by nikki blaire
And he couldn’t think of a better person to share it with.
*****
Music still played in Charlisse’s room when she woke up, but that was all that was left of the night before.
Marcus had left earlier in the morning before the sun came up. She looked over at the side of the bed that he had slept on for a few hours and grinned.
She thought of him holding her and their cuddling. It had been so peaceful and gave her some of the best sleep of her life. For the first time that she could recall, her mind hadn’t been mulling over her to-do list or worrying about her father being alone in Louisiana.
She simply slept, which made it hard to get out of bed this morning. She had to get up though. She had to come back to reality.
Charlisse shook the memory of the night before from her mind then pushed back her covers. Besides, there was no need to hold onto something that shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
But damn, it was good.
She placed her feet on the floor to stand up when a sudden soreness consumed her body.
“Ugh.” She slowly stretched, but it didn’t dull the sting in her muscles.
Another flash of the night before hit her, but she pushed through it to walk to the kitchen and put on some coffee. She needed it, all of it.
“Way to go, Charlisse. You go from your client to Marcus Forde, Jr. You’re really on a roll now.” She scolded herself, as she reached for a coffee mug.
Last night, Marcus had asked her if she had ever had sex with Councilmember Brandon Bridges. She had been honest with him. The answer was no, but she had thought about it.
Brandon wasn’t her only client, but they were definitely the closest. She had begun consulting for him during his campaign, which is where their friendship really blossomed. Campaigns were grueling with odd hours, so he and Charlisse had ample time to get to know each other.
Early on, she would have never guessed that he was interested in her because Brandon was charming and chatty with everyone. That was how he had won his election.
However, on election night, after he was announced as the victor, he made a pass at her during a quiet celebration with a few key staff members in his hotel room. Initially, she had brushed it off as the after effects of winning, but Brandon kept pushing as time went on. His most recent and blatant advances rushed to the forefront of Charlisse's mind.
“What does a man have to do to get your attention?” Brandon asked Charlisse while they went over his official response to the death of a little girl in his ward who had died because of an oversight by child protective services.
“He has to not be engaged.” She quickly replied then went back to work.
“I’m only engaged because you kept telling me no.” He shook his head. “So, when are we gonna talk about this instead of acting like it’s not happening?”
Charlisse didn’t know what to say. Brandon was a great friend. She was also attracted to him. There were also times when she thought that she might feel the same way as he did.
However, she would never forgive herself if her entire career was wiped away by sleeping with him. She could also never allow herself to be reduced to simply being Mrs. Brandon Bridges.
“Brandon, you act like it’s all so simple when you know it’s not. Vanessa is a lot less complicated.”
She replied then went back to looking at the statement that she had prepared for him.
Now, that Brandon was finally married, Charlisse hoped his coming onto her would stop.
Obviously, she was harboring some pent up sexual energy. That had to be the catalyst for her sleeping with Marcus. Loneliness had definitely dictated her actions.
After her engagement ended, Charlisse intentionally deprioritized men. But, now she was dealing with the consequences. She didn't regret her decision, but it was hard to stick to her guns. It was even harder when she was a little tipsy after leaving one of the most beautiful weddings she had ever seen. Yes, weddings made it worse.
At 35, she was tired of chasing the proverbial dream. Charlisse was tired of trying to make a relationship happen. Nowadays, finding a man was out, while finding herself was in. Being found by the right man was even better. But, she wasn't going to keep putting herself out there for nothing. Charlisse had more important things to do with her time.
She was only interested in someone who took her seriously as a partner and made her feel secure enough to be selfless. Anything else was a distraction.
Too bad distractions felt too good.
She finished her coffee then made herself a healthy breakfast before sitting down at her laptop to begin the workday. She banged out a few tasks until her friend’s number flashed across her phone screen.
She quickly picked up, knowing exactly what Terry Fields wanted to discuss – the wedding. He was the editor-in-chief of the city’s largest newspaper. They had met while working, since so much of Charlisse’s job required her to manage the press. Over time, their friendship evolved into something genuine, which was rare in their line of work.
“Good morning.” She answered begrudgingly.
Little did Terry know, she was trying to forget the wedding and everything that happened after it. Now, Terry was going to try and drag every detail out of her.
“Uh, you know why I'm here. Don’t bullshit me with the pleasantries. How was the wedding?” He dove right in.
“Alright then,” She laughed. “It was nice. You should’ve come as my plus one. I don’t know why you didn’t.”
“I know.” She could envision Terry shaking his head. “My damn grandmamma and her birthday.”
They both laughed before she filled him in on everything, except the part about Marcus. She was taking that to the grave.
“That’s just what I thought it would be. Vanessa is a former pageant queen, so I know she knows how to do two things, wear a gown and spend money. She got everything she wanted by marrying Brandon. I still can’t believe that you couldn’t talk him out of it.”
“Excuse me?” She dared him to repeat himself.
“You know that you’re the little voice in his head.”
“About his career, Terry. Not his personal life.”
“Whatever,” Terry scoffed. “This is Washington, D.C. Your personal life is your career.”
Your personal life is your career.
She said the words again to herself. That was exactly her problem. As he droned on, Charlisse began to pack her night with Marcus even further away in her mind. She needed to bury him.
“Charlisse!” Terry practically yelled her name.
“What?” She jumped.
“I’ve been calling your name, girl.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She hadn’t meant to let her mind wander that far away from the conversation. “What were you saying?”
“I was asking if the Fordes were there.”
“The who?” She had heard him, but just didn’t want to believe that Terry was actually asking about the very same last name that she was trying desperately to forget.
“You know who the hell I’m talking about, Charlisse. You need another cup of coffee or something because you are off today.” She could feel him rolling his eyes.
“Were Claudette and Marcus, Sr. there?”
“Yes, of course. Why?”
She actually did get up to pour herself another cup of coffee. What had started off feeling like a daydream was surely turning to a nightmare.
“Well, you didn’t hear it from me,” He began, which let her know that something big was about to be revealed.
“But I got word that there’s trouble in paradise. Apparently, Marcus, Sr. is cheating and has been for some time.”
“How credible is the source, Terry? You know stuff like this pops up all of the time. Most of the time, it’s unsubstantiated.”
“No, no, no,” Terry cut her off. “This source has receipts. Hotel room reservations, trips, and dinners, all paid for on the company dime.”
Charlisse
swallowed hard.
“That’s...not good,” was all that she could think of in response.
“No, it’s not. You know the whites get in a tizzy when it involves money. I haven’t gotten the full story, but there’s a lot of pressure for me to run it. You know how I am about slandering Black people though, Charlisse. I never want to be part of tearing someone down, unless it's warranted.”
“Right.” Charlisse let Terry continue on, while she tried to remember if anything from the previous night seemed odd about the couple, but she couldn’t think of a single thing that seemed out of the ordinary.
“Don’t even worry about it.” Terry let it go. “They’re the king and queen of couth. I doubt a single hair was out of place. Okay, girl. I’m going to get back to doing my real job instead of gossiping.”
They said goodbye, but Terry’s comments replayed several times. She sat still for a moment to gather herself, but was hit by a sudden urge to warn Marcus.
“You don’t know him.” She sipped her coffee to give herself a reality check. “And you couldn’t contact him even if you wanted to. So, stop.”
This was his problem and there was nothing that she could or should do about it. News traveled fast. She was sure that he would find out sooner or later. Besides, she assumed he was probably involved. How could he not be, as his father’s right hand? Those expenses had to be approved by someone.
She shook the thought from her head then went back to answering emails for a while until she stood up to grab a glass of water. That’s when she was reminded of her soreness.
“This might be a good morning for yoga.”
She looked over to the mat that sat discarded in the corner then decided to change and head to her class. Anything to clear her mind and get her back on task.
She had told Marcus, and herself, that their time together was just for one night. But here he was creeping into her life on the morning after.
Three
Marcus sat in his father’s office, but his mind was far away from business. He wasn’t a coffee drinker, but his head was so blurry that he considered having a cup. He blinked his eyes hoping that would wake him up, but closing them only took him back to the night before. He had struggled to pull himself away from Charlisse’s bed.
“Marc.” He became alert again at hearing his name.
He focused his eyes to find his father glaring at him.
“Yes.” He refused to acknowledge that he had been distracted.
“This looks good.”
His father closed the report that Marcus had presented to him. Their accounts were doing well, but Marcus was most proud of the success of his solo venture to financially manage the city’s basketball star, Damien Winston. He was a homegrown talent that was making a name for himself on and off the court.
“Glad to see everything’s going well so early in the quarter. It sets a good precedent. The clients always like to kick things off on a good note.” His father leaned back in his chair. “Even your new client is doing well. Tremaine had a good idea.”
“Are you fuckin’ with me?” He couldn’t hide his contempt, which made his father chuckle.
“He did tell you the first steps of how to make the shit work, Marc.” His father clasped his fingers.
“But I’m making it successful. I’m turning the profit.” Marcus exhaled angrily. “What the hell is up with everyone acting like Ayda isn’t making a terrible decision?”
“Your sister’s fuck ups are her own now. I stopped giving a damn a long time ago.” Marcus, Sr. stood up and ventured over to the fully stocked bar that he kept in his office.
He pulled out two glasses then poured scotch into each.
“But that kid is smart and has a knack for this business. I’ve been doing this for a long time, Marc. Keep your enemies close to you.” He held the glass out to Marcus then took a drink of his own.
“You’d be a dumb ass to let the competition get him, especially since your brother and sister keep acting like money grows on trees, but don’t want to join the firm and work for it.”
Marcus took the drink from his father then knocked it back. He wouldn’t ignore his father’s advice, but he did question it.
“How was the Nexlon meeting?” Marcus forced a new subject.
“It went well. They’re giving us more to invest.” He raised his glass for Marcus to toast with him.
Nexlon was a multi-billion dollar materials company that his father had been managing for the past few years. Nexlon was a relatively new client, but the company was becoming one of Forde Financials’ most lucrative accounts.
Marcus rarely dealt with anything regarding their services since the account was so complex. Still, he was just as invested in the account's success.
“I’ve got a trip to New York next week for them, so I’ll be out of the office. You can handle things for me, can’t you?” The question was more rhetorical.
Marcus always handled everything all of the time.
“You got it. Just make sure you’re keeping your damn receipts. You know your assistant has to do your expenses and she keeps complaining to me about statements not matching up. We’ve covered a few things, but you need to do better.”
"Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He waved Marcus off.
“I’m serious. We’re getting bigger and bigger, Dad. The audits are becoming more frequent. I don’t want any shit because of a missing hotel receipt.”
He finished his drink then handed the glass back to his father. “I can do it for you, if it’s a hassle.”
“No need. I’ve got it.” Marcus, Sr. exhaled then lifted an eyebrow in his son's direction.
“You were daydreaming about Vanessa, earlier, huh? She looked good as hell at the wedding, son. You may have missed out on that one.”
The smirk on his father’s face was wide and supercilious.
“Not at all.”
In fact, his mind was far from Vanessa. He was taken back to wrapping Charlisse’s legs around him. They had gone at it so many times that he had lost count.
“You’ve got another one. That’s right. That’s my son.” His father poured himself another drink. “Never settle, son. Have the best of everything.”
He nodded at him then raised his glass, but Marcus didn’t need another round of drinks.
He needed another round of Charlisse, but she had made it clear that they were a one-time thing.
But she’ll change her mind after what I gave her last night.
He was confident. He had put in some of his best work. She had brought it out of him with her soft moans and even softer skin. They had made magic together.
“I’ve gotta get back to work.” He excused himself and went back to his own office.
He trudged over to the windows, which were identical to the panes in Charlisse’s bedroom. The view of the city usually calmed him, but today, it just reminded him of taking Charlisse against the windows in her room.
“Damn.” He turned away and went back to his desk.
He would just text her. Maybe that would clear his mind.
Marcus flopped down in his office chair then pulled out her card and his phone. He typed in her number then sent her a simple message.
It’s Marc. I still want to take you to dinner.
Then, he tossed the phone aside to avoid waiting anxiously.
“She’ll respond.” He reassured himself, but soon, hours passed with nothing from Charlisse.
After getting home, he checked his phone again, as he walked through the front door. There was still no response, so he dropped it on the side table in the foyer with his keys.
But, he couldn’t forget her. He showered and ordered food, but found himself checking his phone again in hopes that something would be there from her. Still, the message thread only showed his text to her.
“Maybe I should call?” He thought out loud, but quickly dismissed the idea.
He refused to look desperate. So, he settled in for the night and worked hard to push his
unanswered message out of his mind. Unfortunately, television didn’t hold his attention and neither did forcing himself to do some work.
“Marc, get your shit together, man. You don’t even know this girl.”
He tried to snap out of it.
Truly, he didn’t know her at all, despite her knowing so much about him. At most, he knew that she was from New Orleans, but that was about it. In their time together, Charlisse hadn’t shared much about herself, but had gotten him to talk about his family and Vanessa.
His face grew hot from a fiery mix of anxiety and frustration. Marcus felt like he had been swindled at the realization of just how much he had opened up to this stranger. Before he could control himself, his fingers were typing her name into Google to see what he could find.
“There she goes.”
The first several pages of results showed Charlisse’s various accolades and accomplishments. Next, he found her LinkedIn page, which featured a headshot of her that barely did her justice. He stared at it for a moment then scrolled down to read her profile.
“Princeton for her Master’s, what?” He laid back in his bed, as if settling in to read a fascinating book. “She didn’t say shit about that.”
He took a bite of the pad Thai he had ordered.
“HBCU for undergrad, wow. She could’ve told me that she went to Southern.”
He scrolled through the profile to see her job history. She had been telling the truth about coming to Washington, D.C. shortly after obtaining her Master’s degree. However, she had not told him that she had started her career with the Congressional Black Caucus or that she was once a lobbyist for a national government affairs firm.
“She tried to act so damn humble.” He groaned to himself.
From her resume, Charlisse didn’t have any trouble getting anything that she wanted in this city. He could also see why she was so protective of her reputation.
He closed out of the page then went to the next search result, which was a sociology paper that she had written on Black voter outreach. Without hesitation, he downloaded it then saved it to read later.
The more he clicked, the more he found out, and the deeper his attraction to her grew. Not only was Charlisse accomplished, but she was brilliant. She also came from a quite notable family in Louisiana. While Charlisse had casually mentioned that her father was a judge, she conveniently did not mention that he was the Chief Judge on the Louisiana Supreme Court.