Ink My Heart, Pen My Soul Ch. 01

Chapter One

Ello Peoples

Trying my hand at letting other people read my work. Warning, I am still in the process of writing this, but I'll try to be quick about things. Not really sure if I'm good or not, but I hope someone enjoys. Here goes nothing people.

XOXO

-Chubbiez

Makena sluggishly stepped into her cottage-like home, locking the door behind her. Her feet hurt, her back hurt, and if she never smiled at a bookstore customer again, it would be too soon. As she walked through her small, yet roomy home, she kicked off her black pumps and unclipped her bra. She was unbelievably tired. Makena was the owner of a small bookstore in the middle of the city called Diaspora. Diaspora specialized in books with culturally diverse authors. She had books of Black people, and Asian people, and Hispanic people....Everyone. The huge shipment of books from Japan had arrived today, completely filling her schedule. Right now, she hated everything.

Everything.

Makena sat down at her kitchen bar, throwing her keys and purse on the floor. She laid her head down on the smooth, cool counter, her huge curly Afro tumbling down about her head. Finally, she could relax. Or not.

Fuck! she thought, I forgot to turn the damned answering machine on....maybe there won't be any messages...

Makena turned her head. Sure enough, the number three was blinking a vivid red, taunting her from across the room. The same room she had just walked through. Makena sighed and hissed. She knew she would have to trouble her poor, abused feet to walk even more.

Nah, fuck that.

She quickly took a look around her. The forgotten yellow banana from this morning's breakfast caught her eye.

"Come on, high school softball!" she yelled and threw the bright colored fruit. Makena's hopeful eyes watched the banana soar into the next room...and bounce right off her coffee table.

Fuck you too banana, she thought, Welp. I have to get up and feed myself anyways.

After retrieving the failed missile and turning on the voicemail machine, Makena became making dinner for herself. As she flipped her gas stove on, the first message began to play.

"Kennie? It's momma..."

Oh Lord, what now? Makena thought.

"I was calling because Mrs. Byrd said her grandson's in town. Now, I know you don't want me to interfere, but he's a nice boy, and you're almost 40! I told him you would by over to see me on Sunday. Please be presentable, ok? Momma loves you!"

"God dammit mom, I'm 32, jeez." grumbled Makena. Makena's mother Eshe always tried to marry her off because she was "Almost 40". Makena has almost been forty for at least 15 years. As Makena rolled her eyes and seasoned her food, the second message played.

"Hey Mrs.Williams, this is Bob Calder with People's Publishing."

Makena's eyes bulged out of her eye sockets. She had completely forgotten about Mr. Calder!

I wanted to remind you about our dinner meeting tonight concerning the expanding your publishing power down at Diaspora, and wanted to let you know that I would be bringing a possible new employee with me. You spoke about some trouble getting book covers to catch people's eye. I'm bringing an animator named Jonathis Francois. We'll see you at Jade at 8:00."

Makena's eyes swerved to the stove clock. It was 7:25. Great, she thought, I'm gonna be late and tired. Fuck my life. Makena turned off the pan of stir-fry and ran up the stairs.

I have five minutes to become look acceptable, she thought. Screw it all.

"Uh huh. Right. No, I understand completely. That's fine, see you in a bit."

Bob Calder locked the screen to his phone, turning his attention to his companion.

"That was Ms.Williams. She is running a little late, and said to order without her, "he said apologetically. He met eyes with Johnathis Francois

Bob was a little nervous about disappointing the man. Not only was he a very important client his personal publishing company and the publishing networking group, he was also a huge name in the art and illustration business. Not to mention the man's sheer size! At a mere 5'5, Mr. Francois was an entire foot taller than Bob. His skin was as black as night, and he had Locs. Paired with his large muscles and piercing dark grey eyes, Johnathis Francois looked like a force to be reckoned with. Mr. Calder gulped and averted his eyes.

Please let this woman hurry, he though. My career and health probably depend on it.

"No worries. Besides, my dad always told me to wait until after the lady orders. You go ahead though."

Johnathis was a patient man. A Jamaican-American, he never did like the hustle and bustle that these large cities tend to have. He didn't mind waiting a while for his meal, especially for a woman. Even though his stomach was curling up into a ball near his spine from hunger. Lost in his thoughts, John didn't hear the fast-paced click of heels behind him.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, I promise I'm usually very punctual!" A high pitched voice rang out like a peal of sultry, melodious bells. John turned to see where that beautiful voice was coming from. He saw a curvy, milk chocolate colored woman making her way across the restaurant. She had to be at least 5'9 without those sexy stilettos she was wearing. She had a huge curly tumble of an afro that John knew he would enjoy playing in. Her thick, curvaceous body was encased in a striking purple wrap dress that he knew he could remove in under ten seconds. Her fast moving form jiggled in all the right places as she rushed to get to John and his companion. She had almost made it when...

"Everything has been so crazy all day! Especially when WHOOOOO—"

At that moment, the beautiful woman's heel caught in the cobblestone-like flooring of the restauraunt. She tipped forward. Mr. Calder stood in panic. Thinking fast, John leaned out of his seat, arms outstretched. The woman fell into John with a HUMPH. His senses were instantly overloaded. John's nose was sheathed in the smell of baby powder and cinnamon spice. His arms sent pleasure signals to his brain as he realized the woman fit perfectly in his arms. But John was suddenly pulled out of his reverie.

"Umm, excuse me?" said the woman, "Thank you for catching me and all...but could you please let me up? This is very awkward."

He quickly let the woman go, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry miss, are you okay?"

The woman stood up straight, adjusting her clothes as his cocoa skin darkened with her blush. She finally sighed and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine thanks to you Mister Superman!"

Mr. Calder stuck his hand out to the woman. "Hello again Ms.Williams! I hope you're alright! The flooring here is a terrible choice and—"

"No, no, I would've tripped regardless. I've two left feet!" replied Makena as she shook Bob's hand. She turned to her savior. "I must know the name of my rescuer?"

The man with the amazing eyes smiled at her with full lips and sparkling teeth. "No ma'am, it was nothing! I'm Johnathis Francois, the illustrator. Please call me John"

Makena smiled as she felt her panty dampen from this man's attention. He was gorgeous!

"It's Makena, John. May I have a seat?"

The two men quickly made room for Makena to sit. John pulled out her chair. Much to Makena's horror, he tried to push her up to the table.

"No, please don't, I'm much too heavy," she said in a nervous laughter.

John scoffed and easily pushed her up to the bamboo table.

"Heavy is not a word synonymous with your figure, Miss Makena."

Taken aback, Makena's cheeks darkened again as she stared at the floor.

Once John had a seat, Mr. Calder brought a folder from his briefcase.

"Now that we are all acquainted, I want to get down to business. Now John, Makena owns a bookstore that also provides publishing services new authors. She needs you to do the covers for the different novels written by her patrons. You will be on her payroll for the next 16 weeks the moment she signs this contract."

Bob slid the contract in question from the depths of the folder.

"Well, I guess I'm your slave for four months," said John jokingly. He met eyes with Makena, suggestively licking his lips. I have got to behave. I can't repeat what happened with Jada, he thought.

As she searched her large purse to grab a pen, Makena freaked out in her head. Don't sleep with a client. Don't sleep with a client. Don't sleep with a client, she silently chanted her mantra. Don't....What the hell am I talking about? Look at him, Makena! He's flawless! As if he would sleep with you!? Makena sighed defeatedly. She reached across the table to sign the document. In her rush, she bumped John's oncoming hand. Sparks actually flew up her arm. Blushing furiously, she quickly withdrew her hand. Holy physical chemistry Batman, she thought.

John watched her shy away. Well....I do like a challenge.

Makena rolled over in frustration. She was tired, hot and sticky. Why in the hell isn't the air on? She thought. She climbed out of her California king four poster. Groaning, she dragged her feet over to the thermostat and flicked the air on. It had been a few days since meeting Bob and John. As she moved to the bathroom, she thought of the phone call John had given her yesterday, she smiled.

It had been around noon on Thursday when her employee Lynne told her that a "cute-sounding man" was on hold. Having no idea who it could be, she picked up quickly.

"Good Afternoon, this is Makena?"

"Hi Makena, this is John Francois, your new cover illustrator?"

"Oh! Hi! Sorry, I didn't recognize your voice! Is something wrong? You don't start until next week."

"Nothing is wrong, I just wanted to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. I'm grilling some steaks and I have a very nice bottle of Moscato. I would like to be joined by beautiful company."

"Um....See, Mr.Francois....I usually don't fraternize with my employees, even new ones."

"Madam Williams, I only want to show you a good time. I think you are a beautiful, intelligent woman and I just want to get to know you better. Especially considering we'll be working so closely together."

"Mr. Francois....fine. But please understand that we must keep a professional relationship. This is highly unorthodox."

"I will be on my best behavior. Ok?"

"Alright. You have a good day.

He called me beautiful, twice! She thought, but this is so inappropriate. I can't like him. I will not. Makena turned on the water in her massive walk-in shower. She squeezed a dollop of lavender and cinnamon body wash into her hands. She rubbed her body, taking care to love up on her now erect chocolate chip nipples. Dammit, John...she thought. She rubbed her thumbs over the sensitive nubs, gasping from the sweet pleasure. One of her hands traveled from her bouncy, supple breast to her now dripping core. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at her front door. In the name of a holy man's right ass cheek, go away! She thought As she quickly rinsed the lavender lather from her body, her doorbell rang.

Fuck, she thought. "I'm coming!" she yelled down the stairs.

Makena grabbed her red silk robe, forgetting how short and thin it was. She ran down the steps, nearly sliding down them on her butt in her rush. When she made it to the door, she yelled, "Who is it?"

"It's Marcus? Marcus Chatham, from next door? I said I would come over to take a look at your sink a couple weeks ago."

Oh, shit she thought, Mr. Lick-My-Lips-Like-LL Cool J is here and I'm naked! Fuck fuck fuck fuck....

"If this is a bad time Makena, I can come back. It's just that this is the first time you've been here when I've knocked..."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry!" Makena yanked open the door and her glass door. Makena took in all of his glory. Marcus was a twenty seven year old advertising exec from Atlanta, GA. He was super tall, nearly six feet four inches of pure, unblemished dark chocolate. With his sweet southern drawl and those deep hazel eyes, Marcus was someone Makena could get highly addicted to. Too bad he wouldn't give me the time of day, she thought.

Marcus soon brought her from the depths of her mind.

"Can I come in?" he drawled sweetly, apparently amused by the obvious eye rape she had been giving him.

"I'm so sorry, where are my manners today! Please come in!"

Marcus strolled past Makena with a small duffel bag, taking in her place. "This is really nice, Makena....So which sink is giving you tr— ah...um..."

Makena watched his eyes get wide and stare at her still damp, robe cloaked body. The cool draft of the AC had made her nipples hardened in a rather apparent manner.

"Oh, sorry!" Makena clutched her robe closed as her cheeks burned, "I was taking a little shower when you knocked. I'll go get decent. The bathroom is the one giving me the trouble, down the hall, first door on right. With that, Makena excused herself and ran upstairs. When she came back, she had on a strapless red sundress with an African print that she loved. She left her afro down and walked barefoot through her home.

When she entered her guest bathroom, Marcus was laying on her floor underneath her sink, with his head in the cabinet.

"Marcus, you alright in there?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Makena, Marcus. My name is Makena. Or Kennie, or Kena, or anything else....just not ma'am, ok? Besides we're friends, or rather, I would like us to be."

Marcus sat up, leaning his head out of the dark brown cabinet. "I would love to be your friend and get to know you better, Kenzie."

Sweet baby Jesus, thought Makena. This man sure knows how to slick a pair of undies.

Makena smiled at his sweet politeness. "Would you like some lunch? I made way too much food last night. I grilled some shrimp and steaks, I have steamed broccoli and a salad, and I made chocolate chip cookies"

Marcus slid from underneath the sink with a large smile on his face. "That would make my day, Miss Makena. Unfortunately I was not graced with cooking skills, past making eggs and pancakes. I was gonna order a pizza."

Makena giggled. She was always surprised at how many men can't cook. Her three older brothers were all schooled by their mother in the basic food groups: breakfast, soul food, holiday food, and dinner. "Alright then. How about I fix you a plate now, and make you something to eat later? And from now on, don't be afraid to knock on my door and see what I have on the stove." Or in the bedroom, she thought. She held her hand out to him. Taking it and grinning sheepishly, Marcus mumbled a "Thank you very much."