Page 18 of Caught off Guard

“My grandparents are from Henry County. My twin and I spent many a summers shelling field peas and skinning our knees on gravel roads. To my mother’s dismay, we also scuffed our white patent leather church shoes up too.” I chuckled, recalling good times spent with my Alabama cousins in the summer heat.

“Small world,” he said, shaking his head.

I settled into the back seat, feeling much more comfortable than I did before entering the SUV.

“Mr. Wayne, what should I know about Cairo?”

He returned his eyes to the mirror and remained silent for several seconds.

“I don’t want to violate any confidentiality issues,” I added quickly, realizing he might have signed a nondisclosure agreement in his role.

Too late; I considered how inappropriate my question was. I’d gotten too comfortable too quickly. I would be livid if a stranger questioned my driver about me.

“I’m gonna answer your question. Just tryin’ to find the right words.” He paused for what seemed like a long time before finally answering.

“He’s a good man to his core. Kind to people he cares about. Fair and honest in business. Solid. That’s Mr. Kinney.”

I nodded.

“Yes, he has already demonstrated his generosity with his donation to Liberation. I appreciate this invitation to his home.”

I wanted to ask if he did that for other women, but I knew that was even more inappropriate than my first question. No matter how curious I was about my host, I would never put a wholesome man like Mr. Wayne in a position to gossip about his employer’s love life.

“Believe me. Everything will be first class. He does nothing less than the best. But I expect a woman of your standing to be used to that. You’re doing big things at Liberation. I bet you’re giving them hell.”

It was Mr. Wayne’s turn to be nosy.I see you, sir.

“My job is challenging but is quite rewarding when I meet people like Cairo and wonderful members of his team like you.” I gave Mr. Wayne my biggest smile.

When I saw a semblance of a blush on his face, I realized my presidential charm was working. Man, I loved my job.

As I reveled in the comfort of my conversation with Mr. Wayne, we pulled up to a large gate. He rolled down his window and punched in a code on the keypad at the entrance. The ornate wrought-iron gates with the initial K opened slowly, leading to a long driveway lined with freshly cut grass and neat junipers spaced evenly along the path to the house.

“Does Cairo live here alone?” I leaned toward the middle of the back seat and stared out the front window before me, finally spotting Cairo’s mansion, which looked more like the Cinderella Castle at Disney World than a residence.

“Yes. This is a lot of land and home for one person, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is.” I turned my head in every direction to take in what looked like miles of acres that stretched as far as the eye could see.

The majesty of the tall trees surrounding the property almost took my breath away as they dipped and rose on hills in the distance around Cairo’s home, framing it like a modern work of art.

“Nature is showing out today.” I pulled out my camera to capture as much of the sun-kissed view of Cairo’s property as I could from my angle in the car.

Mr. Wayne eyed me from his peripheral, slowing down long enough for me to take clear pictures I would share with Lena later.

“That house is gorgeous,” I narrated, taking in the array of large windows, including bay and picture windows that hinted of the diversity of design within the home’s interior.

By the time the SUV rolled over grayish cobblestone pavers surrounding a round cascading fountain, I had no doubt Cairo was as rich as the news outlets tapped him to be. The sandy colored three-story gable roof home that stretched for what looked like a quarter of a mile could only belong to a billionaire boss.

Since I still had my camera out, I discreetly took a photo of the house up close and Cairo, who stood like an African king, tall and handsome in a matching jogging suit by the attached multi-car garage. As he squinted toward the back seat where I sat, I fanned my face with my hand, hoping the tinted windows disguised my nervousness. I steeled my spine to meet my host on his turf, face-to-face.

ANTICIPATION

I pushedmyself to my physical limits in Friday’s early morning Torch practice since I’d have to leave for an “emergency” in the afternoon. About forty-five minutes before Zora was scheduled to arrive at my home, I rushed out of the practice facility, promising the Torch’s head coach I would return as soon as I took care of an urgent issue at my house. Of course, he didn’t question me because the only times I skipped practice over the last ten years was during the months and days of Cece’s sickness and hospice care.

Since I drove myself to practice so Wayne could pick Zora up, I sped down I-75 in my Aston Martin DBX707 to get home ontime. On the way, Musiq Soulchild’s “Yes” floated through my speakers. Sadness pricked my heart as the sentimental song took me back to my final days with Cece.

Cece and I danced to this song many nights as she battled cancer. When she was too weak to stand for long periods of time, I held her in my arms and danced around the room with her. She laughed so hard at my rhythmless moves that tears fell from her eyes. When pain overtook her body during those times, I administered her meds and then placed her frail body in our bed, cradling her like a baby until she fell asleep.

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