AlTonya Washington - Pride and Consequence

Malik slipped one arm around her waist. “I thought we could go there for lunch—they’ve got a restaurant here at the resort.”

“Sounds good,” Zakira absently replied, her brown eyes widening as she spotted another interesting booth.

“Do you have room left for anything?” Malik asked his petite wife, watching as she scanned the menu of Louisiana specialties.

“Please,” Zakira drawled without looking away from the menu, “I’ve been thinking about that gumbo since you told me about this place.”

“Did I hear someone say gumbo?”

Zakira looked up and smiled at the cheerful young woman who had arrived at the table. “You sure did. I’d like your biggest bowl,” she said, giggling when Malik uttered a soft mocking sound of shock.

“Great choice,” the perky honey-complexioned waitress replied before turning to Malik. “And will it be the same for you, sir?”

Malik’s slanting gaze narrowed a bit more and he pushed his menu aside. “Nah, I think I’m gonna pass.”

Zakira leaned forward. “Baby, aren’t you gonna eat anything?”

“Just bring me a glass of lemonade, will you?” he asked the waitress, who smiled and nodded before leaving the table.

“You must be hungry? You barely sampled any of the food out there,” Zakira noted, watching Malik shrug. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine, Zaki. Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting, I just—”

“I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be back.” He interjected, leaving Zakira staring after him.

Lunch was a quiet affair. Malik’s silence had unnerved and angered her so that Zakira managed to finish only half of the spicy rich seafood gumbo. She had the remainder of the lunch packed in a to-go container and told her husband she would see him later. She spent the rest of the afternoon visiting more booths, chatting with other restaurant owners and enjoying the vibrant beauty of the seaside resort. She adjourned to the suite much later that afternoon and decided to take a nap before the evening’s scheduled gala.

Subtle tingles of sensation surged up and down Zakira’s spine. She shivered in her sleep and snuggled deeper into the warm queen-sized bed.

“Zaki…”

“Hmm?” she moaned, slowly awakening when the pleasurable sensations grew stronger as they coursed through her body.

Malik’s perfect teeth fastened to Zakira’s earlobe and he whispered her name again. When her lashes fluttered open and her brown eyes focused on his face, he pressed a kiss to her mouth.

Zakira rolled her eyes in response. When she turned her head away, she could hear his deep chuckle in her ear.

“I’m sorry,” he sang.

Zakira turned onto her back and fixed him with an unimpressed glare. “I know,” she replied pointedly

Again, Malik chuckled. “Forgive me?”

Zakira laced her fingers together atop the crisp blue sheets. “I guess I could, if I knew what happened. We were having a great time, and all of a sudden you flip.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“And that’s it? You’ve been acting strange for a while now, and your only explanation is you’re sorry?”

Malik fixed her with another devastating smile. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he declared, leaning over when she turned her face away.

The soft lingering kisses he dropped to her neck slowly melted the ice wall she had constructed. After a few moments, she turned and pulled him into bed with her. Malik’s hands were everywhere, caressing, squeezing, fondling…. Zakira moaned his name as her fingers entwined in the long dreadlocks. Malik cupped her breasts in his wide palms and savored the taste of one, firm bud. The kisses journeyed upward, landing against Zakira’s collarbone and along the smooth column of her neck.

“Mmm…” she moaned, encircling his neck as she arched into his chest. The fabric of his shirt grazed her bare skin with the most delicious intensity. Suddenly, the full force of his massive frame settled across Zakira’s body and her eyes snapped open.

“Mmm…Malik, wait a minute…Malik…Malik?” she called, nudging his side with her knee.

There was no response and she began to shove against his broad shoulders. “Malik? Son of a…” she sighed, realizing her husband had fallen asleep while making love to her. When the sound of soft snores caught her ear, she braced all her weight against his and managed to push him away.

While Malik slumbered, Zakira stood next to the bed and watched him. Her suspicions were raging, and the strange pill bottle was at the center of her thoughts.

“Forget this,” she whispered. “I have a party to dress for.” She headed for the bathroom while Malik’s snoring gained volume.

“Actually, we’ve been having problems simply finding a venue for the event.”

“Who wouldn’t want to take part in something like that?”

Two women stood talking next to Zakira at the buffet table. The annual Saturday Night Gala had been in full swing when she arrived. The black-and-white affair offered dancing, wine tasting and, of course, an immense dinner buffet.

“You’d be surprised how fast people shy away when they find out something’s for charity. Especially the businesses. All they care about is what type of fee they’ll generate for renting out their establishment.”

“Excuse me?”

The two women silenced their discussion and turned to face Zakira.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said with a smile. “I couldn’t help but overhear. What is your charity, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No, of course not. It’s the Richmond Children’s Cancer Research Fund.”

“Richmond? Virginia?” Zakira asked.

The woman who had spoken pressed one white-gloved hand to her throat. “Yes, it’s really just a group of doctors’ wives who run the organization. We have no ties with the hospitals or state agencies, but we’ve managed to collect over half a million dollars during our two years in existence.”

“That’s admirable,” Zakira breathed, highly impressed by the group’s success.

Suddenly, the woman shook her head and gave a nervous laugh. “Please forgive me. I don’t know where my manners are. I’m Lydia Cartright.”

“And I’m Jessica Black.”

Zakira set her plate down on the buffet table and shook hands with both women. “Zakira Badu, I’m also from Richmond.”

“Well, it’s certainly nice to meet a home girl.” Lydia noted before gesturing at their surroundings. “So, what brings you all the way to a California food festival? Pigging out like the rest of us?”

Zakira laughed. “Yes and no,” she replied. “My husband owns a restaurant in Richmond. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of Badu’s?”

“Badu’s?” Lydia and Jessica cried, exchanging glances.

“Honey, my husband and I eat there all the time!” Jessica was saying.

“Same here. In fact, Badu’s was the next restaurant on my list,” Lydia softly mentioned.

Zakira’s brown eyes narrowed. “On your list?”

Jessica cleared her throat and fiddled with the folds of her white satin evening gown. “Lydia’s trying to organize the next event for the charity. We were thinking of renting a hall and hiring caterers, but then we thought it might be cheaper to rent a nice restaurant for the evening.”

“Unfortunately, your other colleagues in town are making us want to consider a charity picnic,” Lydia shared. “Bring your own food, of course,” she added.

“Well, it sounds like a great cause. I’d love to help any way I can,” Zakira offered, folding her arms over the square bodice of her black evening gown.

Jessica and Lydia were overcome with gratefulness.

“You can’t know what this means for us,” Lydia whispered as she squeezed Zakira’s hands. “We’re hoping to schedule the event two weeks before Christmas—hopefully folks will be a bit more charitable.”