I hopped into the back seat and Spencer closed the door and then jumped into the driver’s seat. He put the partition down and periodically glanced at me in the mirror. “Tyler, would you consider going out to dinner and dancing with me this weekend?” Before I could turn him down he said, “I’m making a lot of money now and I can afford to take you someplace nice.”
I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I would have given everything for him to ask me out on a date a year ago, but now that I’ve seen Brandon, it wouldn’t be fair to Spencer. It was clear to me that I had to find some way of getting rid of the feelings I have for Brandon. So I said, “Yes. I would love to go out with you.”
“We have been driving for ten minutes and you haven’t asked me where I’m going?” He smiled with that happy wide grin. “I’m going around the corner on Madison Avenue,” I said. “You can drop me anywhere on that block. I think I can make it to the bank on time.
“No problem.” He drove to the next light and made a right on to the street. The bank sat on the corner.
“You can stop now,” I said. Spencer stopped the limo in front of the building.
“I’ll call you to confirm our date. If you want to bow out, I’ll understand.”
“No, on the contrary, I want to go. I need to go,” I said desperate for company. Spencer hopped out and opened the door and gave me a large smile. “You’re a winner. I know you’ll snag that job.”
I stood a few seconds gazing up at the building with its gold façade. The building was old but well-kept. Escalators led to the main floor where guards stood pacing and eyeing everyone entering. I strutted with new found confidence to the secretary and explained that I was here to interview for one of the bank’s managerial positions. She checked my name and sent me to an office to the right.
The room was large and newly decorated in modern furniture and a large mahogany desk. There were pictures of a sailboat, a paper weight, other than that, the desk was neat and orderly. Hunter green velvet curtains hung from ceiling to floor giving the room a feeling of luxury. On the wall was a young picture of an old man who had founded the bank during the Great Depression. I walked to the gilded frame and peeked at the name.
The name was Jordan Longworth the first.
During my research I discovered that the bank had been created to help farmers and small businesses during the depression. It provided seed money with high interest rates. Most of the farmers were able to pay off their debts after World War II and the bank became well respected around the world.
It was a bank with impeccable credentials and in over a hundred years, it never had a scandal. I sat in a chair facing an impressive desk and was staring at the photograph of handsome man of a bygone era, when I heard the door open, and footsteps headed for the desk. Too nervous to turn around, I waited until the individual walked near his desk, turned casually and faced me.
My eyes wavered between the painting and the young man standing in front of me.
“It’s a painting of my…let me be precise, my great grandfather.” And he smiled warmly and shook my hand, and sat in the chair next to me. It’s a conversation piece don’t you think?”
I shook my head and said, “Yes.”
“I’m Jordan Longworth the fourth. And I’m one of the owners of this bank.”
“Of course,” I said. There is definitely a family resemblance. It was more than a family resemblance. It was as if he stepped out of that painting, except for the clothing.
“Now Ms. Tyler, we have reviewed your transcripts and credentials from your private high school and college and I have a few questions. The first,” and he leaned back and put his hand to his mouth studying me. “With your grades and your acceptance letters to Ivy league colleges and universities like Harvard and Yale, why would you choose a New York University?”
I sat up and told the truth, “My mother died and I couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. And I don’t consider Columbia just any university.”
“I agree,” he said smiling. “The second question, why do you want to work at my bank?”
“Because it’s small and I want to learn from the best.” He smiled at that answer and his face turned into a serious stare. I knew that he would hit me with a question that I couldn’t answer because the questions he asked were benign. Anyone could answer them.
“Question number three.” He walked to his chair behind his desk and sat, looking at me with his dark green eyes. Then he shifted in his brown leather chair and leaned forward. “Would you go on a date with me if I asked you?”
Taking aback by such a question, my first thought was no. I couldn’t understand his thinking. I knew rich guys stayed in their own circles and didn’t mix business with pleasure. So why would he even pose such a question. At that moment I thought that he wouldn’t hire me anyway so I gazed had him. Tall, dark and handsome with green eyes, hell yes I would, but not as long as I’m employed by you, I thought.
My mouth answered when my mind should have. I stood with my purse looped over my shoulder. His eyes follow my actions, I opened my mouth and said, “Yes. Yes, I would date you. Call me when I’m working for someone else.”
I had my hand on the door knob when he said, “You’re hired. You will be contacted tomorrow and you will start next week training as a manager and naturally you will be paid. You will have to know most of the positions in this bank. If you think some positions are beneath you let me know now. But I promise you, you will not be disappointed with the package we’re offering. And that last question was a trick question. I wanted the truth and you gave me the truth.”
He walked around his desk and shook my hand with a firm handshake that a man would give to a woman. I’m sure he saved the strong overpowering handshake for men. He smiled and walked out the door leaving me falling into the chair in shock and gazing at the handsome man in the painting—his great grandfather or him. When I looked closer, I could swear it was the same suit.
I hurried out of the office and down the escalator and out the door on to Madison Ave. I breathed a sigh of relief, letting out the air in my brain. I was happy!
I had to buy a few suits for work. I knew a friend in the garment district on Seventh Ave. who Chris had introduced me to, but even then I couldn’t afford the dresses, or was too proud to accept them. I had only two suits for interviews, a black suit with a white collar and cuffs, and the blue suit I had on. As I stepped to the curve for a cab, a black limo drove up. Out jumped Spencer. He didn’t see me, or he was pretending to be important. Strutting around to open the car door, he glanced my way with a stoic expression. I waved and he continued to ignore me, then the door opened and outstepped Brandon and a young woman.
Chapter 11
Brandon angled his long legs out stepping on the curb. He extended his hand to the giddy young woman of college age. His suit a dark blue pinstripe with a white shirt and gold cuff links and that tie he wore probably cost a fortune for a small piece of silk. His black shoes had a shine that I swore I could see myself in. He noticed me standing in awe next to the curb, with my hand hoisted in the air hailing a taxi. Turning to his left, his gaze locked on me. His brow furrowed and he bit his lip. No smile. No longing was present in his eyes. Only the look of a man who had made a mistake. His stare brief, and he turned his head quickly. The woman kept her head up and didn’t notice a lonely, needy, young woman standing on the outskirts of a life I couldn’t touch or enjoy.
She possessed none of the insecurities of a loving wife. I read somewhere that she was at least five years older. And this woman was eighteen or nineteen give or take a day or two. I can recognize the unsophistication of a young woman pretending to be a woman of the world.
What would that make the wife about thirty-two? I smiled and then realized that she wasn’t too old for a young man whose blood was hot and body was hotter. But she was too old for my Brandon. Here I am claiming a man that’s married. I had no ownership of him or his affections. I was just another one of his young girlfriends
whom he had fucked for a week or two. Maybe he liked this one better than me, or the last one I saw him with in the restaurant? My thoughts were toxic, unbearable, stifling, and I was out of my mind with jealousy.
Glued to one spot on the sidewalk with people rushing around and passing me with a curious look—one of the homeless, with mental issues. Brandon’s expression reminded me that I was only one of the many women who passed in his life and soon to be forgotten. Brandon drunk and needing to sleep with someone, said that he loved me and wanted to see me again.
Finally I came to terms with my own reality and I dismissed any thoughts of him and waved a cab on. And before the cab could stop, Spencer looked around at me and climbed into the driver seat of the limo and yelled, “Tyler, get in.” He waved to me coxing me into the car. I stepped in closed my door and leaned forward.
“What’s going on with Brandon?”
“Oh, Mr. Charles is going to lunch with a friend. He owns that bank I dropped you in front of earlier.” Spencer appeared to not notice my concern for Brandon. “Where can I take you?”
“Take me on Seventh Avenue. I’ll tell you where to stop. I need to buy something for work.”
“You got the job, Tyler. I knew you would. Look at you with your beautiful self.”
“I hope he didn’t hire me because he thought I was attractive. A woman can’t live on her looks.”
“Yea. But every bit helps,” Spencer said to me. I raised the glass partition and sat back giving out a silent scream. Then I realized that it wasn’t Spencer’s fault. He did me a favor. I lowered the partition.
“I’m here. You can let me out now.”
“Are you going to give your resignation at the restaurant?”
“I’m not sure?” I said.
“Mr. Charles asked me to inquire. He knows we’re friends.”
“What business is it of his? I know now that he wants me out of there so I’m quitting.”
“He’s not that kind of man.”
“What kind is he? You work for him for a few mornings and now you’re singing his praises, Spencer. Did you see how he looked at me?” I said feeling downright bitter.
“No I didn’t. You don’t know how he feels about you. The other night he was trying to get you in his bed, now why would he act like that?”
“Because now he’s sober and he was drunk then. I’m getting out here, Spencer. Stop.”
He stopped the car and I hopped out he put the window down and I threw him a kiss. “Thank you.”
“Do you want me to wait for you?”
“No thanks. I don’t need anyone that’s close to your Mr. Charles influencing me at this moment.”
“Don’t judge me Tyler,” Spencer said, his feeling hurt. “We still have a date?”
“Absolutely.” Spencer parked the car, stepped out and opened the door for me. I smiled and said goodbye.
He wasn’t Spencer’s Mr. Charles but mine. At least he used to be. I had enough of wishing and hoping so I decided to get on with my life. While shopping for work, I remembered that I needed a dress to go dancing with Spencer, so I picked up a beautiful little black dress with straps that tied like ribbons. I would wear it with my black high heel sandals.
***
A date with Spencer would be my last night out for a long time. I knew the many hours I would have to devote to my new position wouldn’t leave time for much else. Staying with Chris is a must because of the hours I would have to devote to keeping my job. On Friday’s I plan to head to New Jersey on the train and then back again to New York on Sunday’s.
I rarely saw Chris, she slept over with her boyfriend Patrick, a starving artist who had a one room apartment in the Village.
She refused to take a dime from me but I left her what I could afford at the end of the month. I tried to pay my way. I promised her that I would pay her back one day.
***
I showered, blow dried my hair, applied lip gloss, my only makeup, and pulled my little black dress from the closet and on to the bed. When I tried on the dress, it hugged my bottom and lifted it above my knees, which showed off my best assets—my legs. Lately I had been getting complements. Some men admired my breasts, some men admired my eyes and some admired my lips, and at the time I didn’t understand why they preferred my lips, until Chris made it clear that they were measuring my lips for a good fit, like my lips and mouth were a pair of shoes, only they didn’t want my lips to fit on any appendage but one—their dick.
It’s amazing what you learn from others. By going to that prep school, I learned many useful and not so useful things about men from girls who had brothers. I was an only child with limited experiences. I learned what mattered to rich men. Their families and their money trumped all else. Not love, not devotion, not even sex. Maybe sex followed a close third.
My mind had wandered too long about men likes and dislikes. Looking at the clock, nine p.m. sneaked up on me, and I found myself standing in one spot in my black bra and black sheer panties. Not that I thought Spencer would make a pass, but I had to be ready just in case I was weak enough or my hormones were raging, where I couldn’t help myself. I had been too long without a man whispering in my ear and trying to take me to bed. Not that I would want Spencer. Brandon spoiled me, and I held on to a mistaken belief that one day we would be together.
Well, Brandon and I did meet again and he changed from hot to cold. One minute he wanted me to stay with him in his hotel suite, and the next he looked through me as if I were a stranger asking for his autograph.
I slipped on my dress and heels. I turned around looking to see if everything was in order. Unconsciously I put my hair up, strands falling on both side of my face framing it, with my thoughts running back to Brandon. The bell rang. I rushed to buzz Spencer in. It took him a few minutes and he stood at the door.
Looking through the peephole, I opened the door. “Wow. You look…beautiful.”
“Do you think so?”
“If you don’t know…then this is my lucky night.” I shot him a smile and a raised eyebrow.
“Where are we going?” Spencer helped me with my black silk sweater. Reaching for my purse and headed for the door, I repeated, “Where are we going?”
“I promise you dancing and dinner. If you’re hungry, we can eat first.”
“I’d rather go dancing first. I had a snack and I’m ready,” I said to him.
When we stepped outside the building, Brandon’s limo set parked a car length from the door. “Why are we going in Brandon’s limo?” Spencer’s silence echoed loud and he opened the door. “Don’t worry,” he said. I stepped in and before I could turn, Spencer closed the door.
My breath shallow, my sight gone. All I saw was a blank space because anger took hold of me. When I blinked, this incredible man sitting next to me, didn’t smile. His reserved hot beautiful body sat focused in my direction. His piercing blue-green eyes selected me as his target and he hit the bull’s-eye. I sensed his fear. My fear welled up inside because I didn’t want to make the same mistake as I did five years ago and his face said that he was afraid that he could fall in love with me again, and I wanted him. I desired him so much more than before.
“Why are you here?” I said to Brandon. He tilted his head and a strange look descended over his face. I could hear his heart beat fast or was it mine?
“You’re more beautiful than you were at eighteen,” he said shaking his head.
“I don’t think so. Maybe my beauty lessened because you spent too many nights sleeping with me and now that you have missed my body, you have built up an urge once more,” I said with my words dripping with resentment.
“I remember when you weren’t so snotty and foul mouth like some of the girls I know, but now you appear to be just like them,” he said staring me down.
“I remember when you were a man I fell in love with who was honest and loving, and then lied to me and deserted me.”
“I remember returning and calling you but you were gone and wouldn�
��t call me back,” he said as he moved closer to me making me sweat. He reached for my face and it trembled in his hands and he brought it to him, softly kissing my lips. He pulled back gazing into my eyes and my mouth fell into his. His kiss although soft was hard and demanding. His tongue caressed my lips before entering my mouth and claiming it. His hands reached for my breasts. I pulled away and moved from him with my breasts heaving up and down.
“I want to be away from you, now!” I screamed. I beat on the window and shouted for Spencer to stop the car. He did and Spencer jumped out quickly and opened the door.
“Did he hurt you?” he said.
“No. I didn’t hurt her. I would never do that,” Brandon said looking into my eyes.
“You’re doing me harm now by treating me like one of your teenagers. I’m not a teenager anymore and I don’t want to be treated like I’m stupid and worship men like you.” And I glanced at Spencer, “And as far as you are concerned, we are no longer friends.”
“I’m sorry Tyler. I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. I thought you liked Mr. Charles,” he said.
“So you set me up with this phony date.”
Brandon stepped out of the car and reached for my arm. I looked down at his hand and he released me. “It’s not Spencer’s fault. If you want to blame someone blame me,” he said.
“I blame both of you.” I stepped onto the curb of the cobblestone street to hail a cab. My night started with promise and now it has ended like so many of my many nights, alone.
I looked back and Brandon whispered something to Spencer. Spencer walked near me giving an apologetic gaze, his eyes downward with hunched shoulders. He raised his hand and a cab came to a sudden stop. Spencer mumbled, “How can I make this up to you?”
“You can’t” I said with a defiant glance. I stepped into the cab, Spencer closed the door. He walked around and spoke to the cab driver and gave him the fare back to the loft.
One Desire Page 7