Sylvia Sinclair
4D Publishing
To those who believe in no color lines, high-five!
Author’s Note
Thank you for adding To Each Her Own to your reading library. I enjoy interracial romances, and decided to try it myself. I think a lot can be learned about love when reading stories involving different races, and the various stumbling blocks and opinions. Love is where you find it, and it is my desire that what you find between these pages shows a lot about love, life, family, temptations, generational curses, bigotry, values, and romance.
And so, I present to you book 1 in The Swirl series, To Each Her Own. Stay tuned for Tall, White & Handsome, and Moonlighting, parts 2 and 3 respectively, both coming soon.
Enjoy!
SS
Chapter 1
Thursday –June 5, 2014
Downtown Atlanta
She was exactly five months from forty; childless, husbandless, and having oral sex with a married man.
At one in the afternoon on a sizzling day in Georgia, thirty-nine year old Shasta Ann Gibson sat at her glass desk in her office at Bain Broadcasting, also known as BB.
The wispy bangs of her blonde hair flirted with her piercing powder blue eyes. She swiped the fine hairs aside and picked up the desk phone. “Hey, Maya.”
“Hey, girl,” her coworker and friend said energetically.
Shasta leaned back and turned her ivory leather chair toward the panoramic sight beyond the window of her twentieth story office. The view of the many green pine trees, and the vastness of the periwinkle sky, met her vision. “I walked by your desk earlier and saw a temp sitting there. How in the world did you swing a day off?”
Maya explained while the sound of traffic escorted her words. “It’s not an off day. Trust me. I thought I told you. I’m at this Outlook training class in Roswell. I’m using my lunch break to head out and pick up some things from Trader Joe’s over here.”
“Oh, okay. It’s an all-day class?”
“Yep. Nine to five.”
Shasta joked, “Sounds like fun.” She picked up a BB ink pen removed the cap, then she put it back on, removing it again.
“It’s not, and you know it. I’ll trade you.”
“No thanks.”
“Uh-huh, thought so.” Maya snickered. “I saw that I missed your call from earlier. What’s up?”
“Nothing. After seeing the temp, I just called to make sure you were okay.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
“What’s up with you?”
“I have a lunch meeting in about thirty minutes.” Shasta set the ink pen down and turned toward her desk, scooting her chair forward, clicking the wireless mouse, and eyeing her laptop. “Just waiting for an email from Keisha. She prepared a PowerPoint presentation that I need.” She scanned through the crowded stream of inbox messages.
“Oh, the meeting with BBDO, the ad agency?”
“Yep. Your boss asked me to do a quick overview about our upcoming twenty-four hour news program to see if BBDO can help us come up with some way to roll it out.” She turned back to the window view.
“Tyson copied me on that.”
“Speaking of your boss, Mr. Tyson Bain, our trusty CEO, how in the world is he dealing with anyone being at your desk other than you? That hasn’t happened in ages.”
“Probably not very well. I’ll check in on the temp in a minute. She’ll be fine.”
“I’m not so sure. I’m surprised he let you go to training. You have spoiled that man to a T.”
“Yeah well. Even though his dad owns the company, he had no choice but to let me go to the class. Human resources said it’s absolutely mandatory for every assistant. I think Keisha goes one day next week.”
“Really?” She scrolled through her Outlook. “Yep. I guess she did tell me that.”
“And anyway, as far as spoiling him, I do not. All I do is get him through the day like I’m supposed to. That’s what executive assistants do. You know how it is. From what you tell me, Keisha does the same for you.”
“She’s good, don’t get me wrong. But you? You deserve the EA award every year. You get his lunch, pick him up from the airport, and take his dog to the vet.”
“Like I said, whatever it takes to get him through the day. He trusts me.”
“I see that.”
Knock. Knock.
Shasta turned toward the door. “Come in.”
Her assistant, Keisha, opened the door and peeked in, speaking at a low tone. “It’s almost time for your eleven o’clock. I just sent you the updated file.”
“Okay, thanks.” Shasta again grabbed the mouse and searched through her inbox. “Got it.”
“Good.” Keisha, short with a naturally curly afro, closed the door.
Maya said, “Listen. I’ll let you go. I’m gonna run in this store right quick.”
“Okay. Oh, yeah, I wanted to say, another reason I called was to find out how your date went last night. And I really hope it was good because one of us needs to have some fun, and it sure hasn’t been me.”
“Girl, you know I need to tell you about that fool. How about I come by later tonight? Pizza maybe. I need to see that last episode of Scandal you have on your DVR that I missed, and the new one tonight. And I’ll get some Red Velvet Merlot while I’m in the store.”
“I can’t pass that up. Sounds like a plan. How’s seven-thirty?”
“See you then. Have a good meeting.”
“Thanks. Enjoy your class.”
“Later.”
Shasta hung up. She checked out the presentation file for a moment, noticed a slight change she needed, and came to a stance. She stepped from behind her desk and exited her office, walking fast, wearing a form fitting, crème colored pantsuit with nude heels.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to Keisha as she passed by her desk. “Do me a favor and make the last page a bullet-list summary. Okay?”
“Got it.”
Shasta offered a pleasant face. “Thanks.” She headed down the hallway and glanced down a long row of cubicles. She stopped. The sight that met her eyes was that of a young guy from the mailroom named Ramón Vaz.
Immediately, just as she was about to continue walking, Ramón turned and looked back at her. “Hey!” he said loudly, stepping away from his mail cart and heading her way.
She replied by giving him a smile, not wanting to talk loud.
Ramón had not been working for BB for very long, but he was already known as the comic relief of the company, always having something funny to say. He was energetic and handsome, yet he was also about five-foot-five. But, as Shasta told herself after chatting with him the previous day, if he were able to stand on top of his swagger and outgoing personality, he would be seven feet tall.
He stood a few feet from her, sporting black Seven jeans and a gray plaid shirt. He was dark, bald, and slim, with bushy eyebrows and long lashes, and he wore a freshly lined up goatee as if he’d just gone to a master barber. He stood before her, deep dimples on full blast. “Well, the weatherman was right because the sun is surely shining in here. Look at you. How are you?” He looked her up and down.
She towered over him, with her four inch heels bringing her to six feet. “Hi, Ramón I’m good. How are you?”
“Better now.” He then asked, “So, did you watch the Miami and San Antonio game last night? You know we got you.” He pointed to her.
“We?” She looked him up and down as if he had some nerve. “I didn’t see you on the court.”
“Oh yeah, I was. Well, actually not on the court, but I was in the stands, like right behind . . .” He stopped. “Nah, I can’t even lie. My b
ehind was up in the nosebleed section. But that was only because your Spurs fans relegate us Heat fans to rows XYZ.”
She crossed her arms under her chest. “Oh we do, huh?”
He looked at her chest. “Yes, you do.” He switched his eyes to her face. “But we got you anyway.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded and smiled.
“You saw Chris Bosh, right?”
“Yes, I did. I admit, he was on a roll.”
“On a roll is right. Like Parkay.” He spread out his arms and then raised his right hand like he was shooting a basket. “And I’m telling you, with a nose like his, he could catch the ball just by inhaling. He has a beak like a vulture. His nose could be Dwayne Wade’s umbrella in the rain. You see the snot locker on that dude?” He grinned and raised his bushy eyebrows.
Shasta shook her head, and gave a quick laugh. “You’re so crazy. His nose is not even big.” She looked around, trying not to laugh loud.
“Come on, now. I mean that dude has to mow his nose hair. Plus, he looks like some dusty rapper.”
She put up her hand, holding in her chuckle. “Ramón, stop.” Her face seemed ready to explode.
“Okay. Okay.” His expression shifted and he said in a lower voice. “But we are gonna win it all.” He glanced at her from the waist down. “But most importantly, you look really nice. But then again, that’s nothing new.”
She glanced at the plush carpet, then looked back at him. “Well, thank you.” Suddenly, a woman from the human resources department walked by. Ramón only looked at Shasta, but once Shasta nodded to the woman, so did Ramón. Shasta waited a second before saying, as she pointed, “Well, I need to head this way and then get back to my office for a meeting. Don’t want to be late.”
“Sure. Cool.”
She turned around.
“I just wanted to know something.”
She turned back. “Yes.”
He looked the other way, down the hall, and then at her. “I wanted to know, well, there’s another game tomorrow night at Taco Mac. I live near Sandy Springs. I don’t have any more of those once in a lifetime nosebleed tickets, but, not sure where you live, I was just thinking if maybe you’d want to meet there for a bite, some drinks, maybe. Whatever. I’m totally free. And it’s free. It’s on me. It won’t cost you a thing, other than your time.”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid I couldn’t do that, Ramón. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, but yes you could. Don’t be afraid. It’s a free country, you know.”
She nodded. “That it is.”
“I will admit, I mean I know the company policy about employees getting together and all, and well, as they say, fraternizing.” He used his hands as he talked. “But really, this is just two people watching a game together. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me. Just asking you to friend me, I guess. Just a couple of hours. Not a lifetime. And besides, am I really that ugly that you can’t sit next to me and watch a bunch of equally ugly, sweaty, smelly, lanky athletes play a game? I promise to shower. Friday is my weekly shower day, so you lucked up.” He gave one loud laugh. A funny laugh.
She chuckled but immediately her face shifted to uncertainty. “I just . . .”
“Please.” He waved his hand along the length of his body and said, “Like I said, all of this, for free. And I’m clean? You can’t beat that. Okay, okay. I’ll even brush my teeth, just for you.”
She nodded, crossing her arms. “Oh wow. Well then sure. Can’t beat that deal. Why not?”
He flashed his teeth. “Why not is right. That’s just what I wanted to hear.”
She said, noticing how white and straight his teeth were, “But friends go Dutch.”
“Then just call me Dutch, because I’m not having that. My dad taught me better. You’re a lady, are you kidding me? You are kidding me, right?”
What popped into her mind at that moment was that he looked just like a bald Kevin Hart. She laughed in her head. “We’ll see about that. So, it’s the Taco Mac over on Roswell Road, right? Near 285?”
“That’s the one.”
“Okay. What time?”
“Say seven-thirty. I think the game starts at eight.”
“Okay. That’ll work.”
His smile grew. “Good. See you there.”
She stared at his dimples, and then turned, walking away. “Okay. Bye.”
“Bye. And thank you.” He said in a lower voice, “I hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave.”
She could feel his eyes. She looked back. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”
“No. Just Spurs fans.”
She then headed on down the hall, wondering, Why in the world did I agree to have drinks with the mailroom guy? He’s in his twenties. He’s short. And, he’s my coworker. Good Lord!
At that instant, she looked up and said, “Hi, Mr. Bain.”
“Shasta.” The CEO of the company, Tyson Bain looked serious, nodding as they passed each other. He wore all black, even his tie and shirt. “Don’t be late for your meeting.”
“I won’t.”
He proceeded down the hall. She looked back at him, and he looked back at her. She quickly turned away, remembering the recent companywide email that Ramón alluded to about workplace dating and the pitfalls of getting involved with a coworker. And there he was, her boss, just a few feet away from her after she accepted an offer to meet a coworker for drinks.
She walked into the ladies’ room and entered the stall, knowing that in her life, what she decided upon was to her liking, and it was no one else’s business. A couple of things in her life she had kept to herself and decided to live with, just because she desired a life as full as it could be. She believed in the term To Each His Own but she had changed it to symbolize a liberated woman’s right to do her own thing, actually making it To Each Her Own. She was far too progressive to worry about rigid corporate standards. Based on her two degrees and hard work, she had earned her corporate job and her six figure salary. She even received money every month from her wealthy father’s trust fund. Money, for her, was not a problem. She was happy, for the most part.
All that was missing was the white picket fence style of life that she had put off for so long, which included the kids, the golden retriever, an SUV, and of course, a husband. The clock was ticking. Her thirty-nine year old eggs were expiring and she knew it.
And so, she would get through the day and then go to her bachelorette home and change for her evening with her friend Maya, watching Scandal; two single, childless women who had never been married.
As she sat on the throne she told herself, Screw what he thinks. Tyson is not one to talk.
Besides, he never practiced what he preached. And he never ever, from day one, honored the covenant of his own marriage. Shasta knew because, Tyson Bain, was her personal part-time lover.
As much as she tried to convince herself that it was her degrees that had landed her the quick rise to Sr. Vice President spot at Bain, Shasta Ann Gibson had slept her way up with her mouth skills.
And it irked the hell out of her.
Chapter 2
Johns Creek, GA
“First of all, can I just say that I am so sick of these men out here?” Maya Rose Turner asked Shasta with vigor as she sat on the denim blue living room sofa in Shasta’s Fulton County townhome that evening.
Shasta lived in a sage, three-story, corner unit townhome that had three single garages. The half-million dollar craftsman home in the gated community of Johns Creek Walk had four bedrooms, and four and one-half baths. The master bedroom suite was on the main floor.
Shasta sat on the tan chenille recliner near the stone fireplace, bouncing her bare foot while her legs were crossed. “Was that a statement or a question?”
“Both.”
“Okay. Why do you say that? Was the date that bad?”
Maya’s dark brown, freshly flat-ironed, shoulder length hair shook while she spoke. “Well, this guy, whose name was Jim, was late,
first of all. So after I got past the fact that he was on CP time, I had to deal with him talking about his ex-wife for damn near two hours. He never even asked me my sign or my religion, or if I enjoyed my meal, where I’m from, if I’m a baby’s momma, a convict, a stripper, nothing. He just talked and never shut his damn trap, even while he was swirling his mush refried beans in his mouth.”
“Okay, first of all, CP time. As in colored people time?”
“Yes. It may not sound nice, but the last three men I dated had the CP watch on their wrists. Don’t judge me.”
“Okay, whatever. But the chewing with his mouth open, eww. That’s just nasty, and selfish. Why’d you even listen to him for that long?”
“Well, first of all girl, he ordered the good stuff from the bar. The Patron was on and poppin’ and I was sitting there buzzed, ordering shrimp and lobster and whatever else was clever. The only good thing he did all night, other than run his mouth, was pay the damn bill.”
“Oh. I see. So you used him for his money.”
“Hell no. He used me by asking me out and wasting my time, so I just sat there like I was his friendly neighborhood therapist and I nodded, over and over again while I sipped strong tequila and sucked on sweet lobster. A dang counselor would’ve charged him two hundred an hour. The way I see it, he got off cheap.” Even though Maya sounded mad, she gave Shasta a goofy smile.
Shasta gave a goofy smile back. “Well dang, I can’t argue that. I guess it’s safe to say there won’t be a date number two with his butt. Was there anything you actually liked about him?”
“He had a nice car. A brand spanking new Audi, actually, midnight blue. Oh, and he had a nice hairline. Nice hands were manicured. He was tall. Dressed okay. But none of that crap mattered. He was a selfish motor-mouth, still bonded to his ex. Period. I ain’t trying to mess with that. Negroes are a trip.”
“Well alrighty then.” Shasta shifted in her seat, looked up at the white coffered ceiling, leaned forward and then she grabbed the stemless glass of red wine from the coffee table.
To Each Her Own (The Swirl Book 1) Page 1