Page 5 of Divine Sense
KOLBI
“Mr. Vesey,” my secretary’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as she spoke through the intercom. “The Sinclairs are requesting you for a personal meeting.”
“Please put them through, Kendall,” I pushed the button and spoke back. When I looked at the clock I realized I’d missed lunch entirely. It was just after one in the afternoon and I had spent the majority of my lunch hour replaying the encounter I’d had on Saturday morning when I almost ran over the girl with raven black hair. For some reason, the interaction wouldn’t escape me even though it happened nearly four days ago.
I’d gotten up and thrown on some jeans and a shirt to head out for an early morning ride. Growing up, I could always be found at the skatepark on the weekends and after school. As an adult, I could only get on my board once or twice a week. Nothing beats waking up early on a Saturday morning and hopping on my board before the city wakes up and the tourists come out. It had become my time to shut my brain off from a busy week in the office and just be with my thoughts. Duringthe week, I was buttoned up and professional; I needed to be so I could gain the trust of the important people of Charleston. Showing up to a consult in baggy jeans and a ratty T-shirt wasn’t how I had built my business to what it is today. Even when I wasn’t at work, I tried to always look put together in case I ran into clients around the city.
Saturday morning though?
That was my time to let loose and just be me.
I had been on my board for about an hour when I was heading down Church Street towards the water. The sidewalks were empty due to how early it still was, when out of nowhere a girl stepped out into the street in front of me. She had been looking down at her phone when she went to cross the street and even shouting at her hadn’t been enough to avoid a collision. I offered to take her somewhere when I saw she was hurt, but she refused.‘I don’t need someone like you pretending they can help someone like me,’she’d scoffed. While she didn’t come right out and say it, I knew what she meant.
That a Black man like me, dressed in ratty jeans and a spray painted shirt, couldn’t possibly be able to help a white woman like her.
This wasn’t the first time my resources and capabilities were questioned because of how I looked. Growing up in Charleston was hard because of my family roots and the way people saw me. There were many times when I was the first to be blamed when something went missing or a fight broke out at school. Luckily, whenever this happened, my three best friends were there to stick up for me. Whenever someone called me a name or made fun of where I lived, my friends had my back. There were more than a few occasions where Hank, Conrad, and I were pulling Malcolm off of some idiot who had called me a slur.
Even now, something about the girl’s words felt off to me—like she hadn’t truly meant them. I found it odd that sheapologized for getting in the way, just to snap at me in the next breath. I tried to push the interaction out of my mind as I picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello, yes, Mr. Vesey?” the voice on the other end asked.
“This is him.”
“Mr. Vesey, the Sinclairs are requesting a formal meeting at their home tomorrow morning with you. Mr. Sinclair is working to schedule some of his early campaign rallies and would like to go over security with you. We will see you at 10:00 a.m. sharp. Have a good day now.” The voice on the other line spoke feverishly and hung up before I could even respond.
“Sure, let me drop all my prior commitments for you. It’s no problem, checking to see if I’m even available at that time isn’t necessary at all,” I spoke into the receiver that was now just a dial tone.These people.I blew out a long breath and hung up the phone.
I spent the rest of the afternoon rescheduling my Thursday because the drive out to the Sinclair plantation was at least half an hour. With morning traffic in and out of the city, it was a solid hour on a good day. When the clock on the wall chimed at five o’clock, I pushed back in my chair and rubbed my eyes. The last two hours of my day had been spent leaning on my elbows with my face close to my computer, trying to check in with the various teams we had in place around the city. A knock came from my door as I was collecting my things and slipping on my suit jacket.
“You comin’ boss?” Hank asked from the doorway. He and I always walked out together before he jumped on his bike to head home just north of the city.
“Yeah, brother, I’m coming.” I went to meet my friend in the doorway and locked the glass doors of my office behind me.
“Busy day? You didn’t come out for lunch like you normally do,” he questioned as we walked down the long marble hallwaytoward the elevator together. I hadn’t told him about Saturday’s incident yet.
“I had to reschedule some things tomorrow which took up a lot of my time.” It was only half a lie, Ihadspent the last half of my day reworking my schedule. But that wasn’t why I missed lunch.
“Why did you have to reschedule your day? You have your schedule set for like, the next six months,” my friend half chuckled. He wasn’t wrong. My schedule was locked in for months at a time because of how busy business was.
“The Sinclairs called a meeting with me tomorrow at ten,” I explained as we exited the building. We had taken the elevator down from the top floor and had just stepped out onto the sidewalk. The cool, November air blew through the city off the shoreline, signaling that winter was coming.
“You couldn’t tell them they needed to pick a different time? Less than twenty-four hours notice is kind of a hard ask, especially for someone like you.” He gave me a contemptuous look as we moved towards our vehicles.
“Like I said, theycalleda meeting with me, they didn’t ask. The person on the phone told me they expected me at ten tomorrow morning then hung up. I didn’t get a chance to offer another time.” My friend blew out a breath through pursed lips as I explained it to him.
“Imagine being so entitled and self-centered that you just expect people to drop everything they’re doing to serve you.” He shook his head and swung a leg over his bike, chuckling in disbelief.
“It’s not a life I know,” I laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. “See you in a few hours?”
“It is Wednesday.” He gave me a knowing look. “I’m heading towards Bailey’s now to pick her up and then we’re going to grab some food and head over.” He bumped my fist with his beforeslipping on his riding jacket. When I hired my friend to work for me earlier this summer, he used his sign-on bonus to buy himself a tricked-out motorcycle fully custom-made. While the thing was beautiful, I had hoped he would have used the money to get an apartment in a nicer part of town.
“How is Bailey? Now that the trial is over, I mean.” After he came home from serving our country for nearly half his life, Hank fell in love with a woman who is perfectly his match. Bailey, or ‘blondie’ as my friend likes to call her, had been raped two years ago and because of my connections with the city, I helped him find out who had attacked her. We all supported her and Hank through the court proceedings and only just a few weeks ago got the good news that the monster who harmed her was found guilty. The relief we felt when we heard the verdict ring out in the courtroom is something I’ll never forget.
“She’s great, man. I thought she was fiery before, but now? It’s like someone tossed lighter fluid on a spark and it’s completely untamed.” He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “The cloud has lifted from her and I can see it. Thank you again for every?—”
“You don’t need to thank me. I like Bailey and I see how good she is for you. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.” We shook hands and he slid his helmet on. “I’ll see you in a few hours for campaign night. Don’t be late or Conrad will threaten to cut your dick off.”
