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  A Champion’s Proposal

  The Champion Brothers, Book Seven

  Tina Martin

  Copyright © 2019 Tina Martin

  A CHAMPION’S PROPOSAL

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  A Champion’s Proposal

  Synopsis

  Mordecai Champion has found the house of his dreams. Unfortunately, it’s located in a specially zoned, exclusive neighborhood in Wilmington, North Carolina. To be eligible to buy the home, he must meet certain requirements. Hence, a proposal for the real estate agent who’s caught his eye from the first – Jemisha Rayford.

  Jemisha is struggling to stay afloat with her new real-estate business and Mordecai’s proposal may be just what she needs to secure a much-needed substantial commission. If she accepts, she knows she’ll risk her business and her heart to a playboy who’s never been in a serious relationship, but at this point, she may not have much of a choice.

  A Champion’s Proposal

  Prologue

  “Ay, careful, Miss. That’s my only nephew you’re holding.”

  Miss.

  Jemisha knew the source of the deep, yet annoying, voice before she turned around – Mordecai Champion. It was only a matter of time before he said something to her. In the kitchen, he was standing opposite of her on the other side of the food-filled island in the home of Savannah and Harding – Savannah her best friend and Harding, Mordecai’s brother. In fact, he’d been standing there, watching her and sipping on a drink, pretending to be otherwise occupied by his forever ringing and dinging cell phone but that was all a front. He was watching her, and sipping.

  Her eyes automatically rolled. She didn’t want the attention so she pretended she hadn’t heard him. She bounced baby Harley and admired him for the beautiful baby he was. He looked just like his father – same hazel eyes and all – and he smelled so good. He was a calm baby – must’ve got that from Harding, too, because Savannah didn’t have a calm bone in her body.

  “Savannah had better thank her lucky stars you took after your daddy, Harley. Ain’t that right, poochie, poochie?” she said in baby talk.

  Baby Harley flashed a drooly, gummy smile, one that melted Jemisha’s heart.

  “Hellooo?” Mordecai said, seeking to get Jemisha’s attention once more.

  She looked up at him, her eyes sweeping over his stature. Not only was he tall, but he was gorgeous – like the dangerous kind of gorgeous that could get a woman in some serious trouble if she didn’t keep herself in check. He even had the look of a troublemaker – a bad boy. The type to act first and ask questions later. Whenever she saw him, he always had that insidious smirk on his face like he’d been up to something.

  Probably had.

  Mordecai was a ladies’ man. Why wouldn’t he be? With black, slightly curly hair, he stood six-feet-four with an amazing pair of hazel eyes and skin creamy and delectable enough to be dessert. He usually wore Polos that conformed to the shape of his muscular chest and arms with jeans that rode his hips like a cowboy on a racehorse at the Kentucky Derby. He had a pair of dark, black lashes – the kind most women would either kill for or buy – that curtained his beautiful eyes and a trimmed mustache that brought out the fullness of his, square lips.

  After she was done smiling at Harley, Jemisha wiped the smile from her face, looked at Mordecai and said blandly, “Hi, Mordecai. How are you?”

  “I’m me,” he responded.

  Her eyes narrowed. I’m me. What kind of response was that? And why was he still staring at her, leaned up against the counter watching her like she was the sixty-inch flat screen mounted on the wall in the living room?

  She decided to find out. “Um…did you want something?”

  He cracked a devilish smile. Did he want something…?

  “I would like to spend some time with my nephew if you don’t mind. You’ve been hogging him all evening.”

  Her eyes narrowed to slits. “No, I haven’t. Savannah literally just handed him to me like five minutes ago.”

  Mordecai grinned. She had, hadn’t she? But he didn’t care. Besides, it was no coincidence he’d visited the family the same weekend Jemisha was here. He’d been planning a trip to Asheville for the longest, but with the heavy workload of managing two gyms, he put off scheduling a definite date. Then his sister Zoya slipped up and asked him if he was coming this particular weekend because in her words, “Jemisha would be here, too,” almost as if Zoya had known he’d taken a liking to Jemisha. She probably had. Zoya was observant like that.

  So here he was, staring at the woman – Jemisha Rayford – his sister-in-law’s best friend. He’d seen her in passing but never paid much attention to her because honestly, he paid no considerable amount of attention to any woman. Couldn’t have no broads thinking silly things that weren’t going to happen – like him actually wanting to be in a relationship.

  Not Mordecai Champion.

  He enjoyed his freedom and everything that came along with it. And he didn’t chase women. They chased him. So, why was he road-trippin’ over Jemisha? What was it about her that was so fascinating, he’d plan a trip when he knew he’d have a chance to interact with her? How could he be captivated by someone he didn’t know? Was that even possible?

  He peeped at his watch and said, “Times up, Jemisha. Hand me the boy.”

  “Times not up,” she retorted. “Why don’t you eat? Fix a plate and relax.”

  “Looka here, Aunt Jemima. I already ate.” Mordecai hid a smirk.

  Jemisha grunted then mumbled to baby Harley, “Please don’t grow up to be like your Uncle Mordecai He has issues.”

  Mordecai passed the food and walked around to where she was standing. “That’s a rude thing to say to my nephew.”

  “Rude? You just called me Aunt Jemima.”

  He grinned. “I said Je-mi-sha. That is your name, isn’t it?”

  Jemisha mumbled displeasure under her breath. “Um, Zoya,” she called out. “Can you come in here and get your brother?”

  Zoya walked into the kitchen from the dining room with a look of amusement on her face already. “Mordecai, what are you doing in here?”

  A dimple dived into his jaw as a beautiful, white smile appeared. “I ain’t doing nothing, girl.”

  Jemisha carefully transitioned baby Harley into Mordecai’s muscly arms. She felt the vibration – the sizzle – when their arms accidentally touched. She maintained a frown to affirm the annoyance she felt for this man but she couldn’t deny the spark. The heat.

  “What is he doing, Misha?” Zoya asked since she couldn’t get anything out of Mordecai.

  “He’s being rude—called me Aunt Jemima.”

  Zoya belted out a laugh. “Really, Mordecai?”


  “She was hogging my nephew.”

  “I was not.”

  “You were, almost like you want one of your own.”

  “And that’s my cue…I’m outta here,” Jemisha said, heading out quick, fast and in a hurry.

  Zoya laughed and after Jemisha exited, she asked her brother, “You like her, don’t you?”

  “Who? Jemima—I mean Jemisha?”

  “Come on, Mordecai. Be serious for once. I ain’t never seen you with a woman for more than five minutes and here you are in Asheville the same time Jemisha’s here. Coincidence? I think not?” Zoya crossed her arms awaiting a confession.

  “You’re the one who told me she was coming.”

  “Yeah, only because I know you like her.”

  “Wow,” Mordecai said, slowly rocking Harley. “I’m appalled at you, sis.”

  Zoya picked up a piece of ham and tossed it into her mouth. “Appalled? Why?”

  “You just said you haven’t seen me with a woman for more than five minutes—making me out to be a player.”

  She laughed. “You are a player! What? Does it bother you to hear somebody say it out loud? That’s one of the main reasons you’re so protective of me and Amira—afraid we would end up with someone like you.”

  “Not true.”

  “Oh, whatever. You know it’s true.”

  “It’s not, and I’m not a player. I’m just relationship-challenged.”

  Her laughter filled the kitchen.

  “Go on. Laugh it up. Do you hear this, Harley?” he asked his nephew. “That’s your Aunt Zoe being mean to me.”

  “Stop filling Harley’s head with lies. I’m not being mean. I’m just telling you about yourself and you don’t want to hear it. Hard to hear the truth, ain’t it, especially after those women done blew your head up?”

  “Since you’re grilling me, look—I confess. I know I’ve had issues with women in the past, but I can be a family man. A one-woman man. In fact, I’m going to look into buying a house soon.”

  Zoya’s eyebrows shot up. “You are?”

  “I am.”

  “Shut up and stop your lying, Mordecai. If you were buying a house, you would’ve told Ma and Ma would’ve told me.”

  “I haven’t told her yet.”

  “So that means you’re not serious.”

  “I’m very serious.”

  “Humph.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” she said, then pursed her lips. “It just dawned on me…if you stop teasing Jemisha so much, she could probably help you out with your newfound urge to be a homeowner.”

  “In what way?”

  “Guess who has her own real estate agency in Wilmington?”

  Mordecai frowned. “Jemisha is in real estate?”

  “She is,” Zoya said as she left the kitchen.

  A slow steady smile came to his lips. He wasn’t serious about a lot of things – he’d be the first to admit that. Of most importance to him were his gyms and his own physical fitness. Lately, though, he’d been feeling like there was more to life than that. His brother Harding had married and Zoya had tied the knot and was living their happy lives. Seeing them with their significant others made him realize he had never had that – a real, honest, loving relationship. He wanted a level of stability in his life. Owning a home would be a great pathway to establishing that stability.

  Still holding Harley, Mordecai walked to the dining room entrance and stood there looking at his family sitting around the table. There was his brother Harding, Harding’s wife Savannah. His sister Zoya and her husband Tennyson.

  And then there was Jemisha – the only single one besides him – sitting there looking like she was already a part of the family with her beautiful self. He stared at her long enough to demand her attention then offered an inquisitive smile.

  Jemisha frowned in response and continued eating and enjoying the association of people she considered family.

  Mordecai smiled more, then looked down at the bright eyes of his nephew and said evenly, “What do you think, Harley? Should I hire Jemisha to help me find me a house? What do you think, lil’ buddy?”

  Baby Harley smiled, then Mordecai replied, “You a sneaky lil’ devil just like your daddy, ain’t you? I knew you would say that. Alright…we gon’ find out what she’s made of. Uncle Mordecai will have a place for you to come visit in no time.”

  Chapter 1

  A Week Later

  Jemisha sighed as she used her desktop for a make-shift pillow in the modest office on the second floor of a downtown Wilmington business tower. Selling and buying homes was her career of choice. It was a job she enjoyed so much that she started her own real estate business. That’s what people usually encouraged you to do when you inquired about a career choice – do something you love.

  “Do something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life,” they’d say.

  Lies.

  All lies!

  Jemisha had learned that the hard way. Your passion – that thing that lights a fire to your britches and gets you waking up exhausted in the morning, seeking coffee with both eyes cracked, is nothing but work. Hard work. It didn’t matter if you were working for yourself or someone else.

  After years of working for another agency in the saturated Charleston, South Carolina housing market – an agency comprised of mostly white agents, white owners and customers (buyers and sellers alike) – Jemisha saw a need for an agency that looked out for her people – a place that could handle all cares for the African-American community in the home-buying realm. After all, black people bought houses, too. The only problem with Charleston was, the market was just too rich – at least for the people she wanted to help the most.

  Taking that drive and determination with her, Jemisha relocated to Wilmington, North Carolina two months ago. It’s the place where she thought her best friend Savannah would settle down, but Savannah had moved to Asheville since her husband, Harding Champion would be working for The Champion Corporation and reestablishing his own business there. But she didn’t let that stop her from her plan of opening her own company – Rayford Real Estate.

  It was a dream come true. She was her own boss and she had big dreams of sprinkling black girl magic all over Wilmington. She would be the real-estate Oprah for African-Americans who ran into roadblocks in their quest to buy a home: “You get a house. You get a house! Everybody gets a house!”

  There was a new sheriff in town.

  Rayford Real Estate in the building!

  This city was ‘bout to be woke when it came to this housing thang.

  Never underestimate a black woman’s drive to succeed.

  You can do anything you set your mind to.

  The sky’s the limit.

  And then…

  Opendoor and Offerpad happened – those in addition to a wave of other nontraditional ways of selling and buying houses via the Internet and phone apps. Who would’ve ever thought something like that could be a possibility? And it seemed people were more interested in going that route since it was marketed as more convenient. She’d come across a few stragglers who wanted to buy a home the traditional way. In two months, she could count the number of clients she had on one hand.

  That wasn’t good for a new business. She had a mortgage of her own to pay in addition to the rent she owed on the office space she leased. Made her wonder why she started out with an office in the first place. Working at home probably would’ve saved her a little worry and anxiety – and money – but the ink had dried on the lease months ago. She had to make this work. Had to.

  She peeled her face up from her desk. After sliding into the red heels she wore to work, she walked over to the window where she had a good view of the street.

  All these people and ain’t nobody in the market for a home?

  She sighed, glancing at her watch. “Come on, people. I’m right up here. Ready and waiting…” she mumbled.

  Chirp…chirp.

 
; She turned to the cell phone on her desk. She rushed to get it, hoping it was a client. It wasn’t. She grew deflated when she saw that it was Savannah was calling – not that she didn’t want to hear from her friend. At this particular point, she needed to hear from a client more.

  She picked up her phone and answered, “Hey, Savannah.”

  “Hey, girl…haven’t talked to you all last week.”

  “I know. I meant to call. I’ve been super busy wallowing around in pity and hating myself.”

  “Girl, stop it. Whatever’s going on, it’s not that bad.”

  “But it’s bad, Savannah. Business is slow, or shall I just be honest and say nonexistent. I haven’t had a single client in a week and now, here I am starting the process all over again this week. Another week of boredom and no sales equals Jemisha Rayford out on her tail.”

  Savannah chuckled. “I’m supposed to be the one with all the drama. Not you.”

  “Well, while you’re laughing, tell baby Harley to slide over. Auntie Misha gon’ need to share his crib.”

  Savannah laughed harder. “Sorry, girl. I don’t mean to laugh.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “Look—you know you’re going to be fine. I don’t know why you’re trippin’.”

  Jemisha looked around her empty office. How was she going to be fine with no business? “Well, I can truly say your outlook is much better than mine. I’m sitting here staring at walls that I can’t afford to pay for, but thanks for the optimism.”

  “Your company is still new, Misha, and you’re tucked away in that massive tower with a host of other businesses. You need to invest in some marketing.”

  “With what money? My savings account is on deflate. I nearly emptied my account moving here and leasing this office space. I hate to do this, but if I don’t get a sale soon, the first thing Imma have to do is end the lease on this office.”

  She sighed. She hadn’t paid last month’s rent and it didn’t look like she’d be able to afford this month’s payment either. “Why did I think I could just pick up and move to another city? I should’ve just listened to my mom and stayed in Charleston.”