After Hours

by Rochelle Alers

  While Ronald admitted that he didn’t mind that Karla had the greater earning power of the two, Cory didn’t feel the same. Many thought he was living the American dream with a talented wife and a house in an upscale suburban community, but he was miserable. He wanted his own business and he wanted children. He didn’t know why he’d agreed to the five-year stipulation to wait before starting a family, but he realized Sybil wouldn’t have married him unless he went along with her carefully mapped-out plan as to how she wanted to run her life.

  “I know you’re right, Ronald, but—”

  “If you know I’m right, then why are you whining like a bitch?” Ronald said, cutting him off.

  Cory glared at his friend. “I am not a bitch.” He’d enunciated each word.

  Ronald knew he’d stepped over the line. “I’m sorry, man. I wasn’t calling you a bitch. It’s just that I’ve learned to be grateful for what I’ve been given and I think you should do the same. It’s hard out here for our folks, especially in our field. Remember—we counted the number of brothers at that convention. There wasn’t enough to make two teams for a baseball game.”

  Cory stirred the martini and poured it through a strainer into a chilled glass. “That’s why I suggested setting up an organization of black software engineers like the black accountants and the other professions.”

  “I don’t agree with you. This field is too new for us to isolate, alienate and segregate ourselves. How are we going to know what’s going on if we’re on the outside looking in? Lance Haynes is the exception, not the norm. Once there’re more Lance Hayneses, then I’d be glad to step up and join up.”

  “Here’s your drink.”

  Ronald raised the glass to his mouth and took a deep swallow. Iciness, then warmth, spread throughout his chest. “Damn, that’s good.” He took another sip. “What do you think of Haynes’s woman?”

  Cory gaze shifted to where Dina and Lance sat at a table with an older couple. “What about her?”

  “Karla said they’re just friends, but I find it very hard to believe he’s not sleeping with her.”

  “Why can’t you believe it, Ronald?”

  Ronald shook his head. “She has a certain innocence about her, but I think it’s all a facade. Did you see the way she walks?”

  A smile found its way over Cory’s face. “Who could miss it.”

  “I tell you, man, she’s a freak. Every woman I’ve known with a nasty-ass walk is a freak.”

  “How can you tell?” Cory asked.

  “I just know.” He stared at Dina as she smiled at something Judge Weichert’s wife had said to her. He felt the flesh between his legs stir restlessly. It’d been a long time since he’d wanted to make love to a woman he’d just met, and Dina Gordon definitely turned him on. The last woman who’d turned him on like that he married.

  “Shut down the bar, Cory, and come eat.”

  CHAPTER 49

  It was late afternoon when Dina found herself sitting next to Karla under the shade of a large white umbrella. Most of the other guests were either reclining or sleeping on lounge chairs set up around the pool. Several men, Lance included, had retreated to an area of the patio to watch an action movie on a large built-in screen in an enclosed alcove next to the pool house.

  Karla ran the back of her hand over her forehead. “I think I drank too much. Did you get enough to eat and drink, Dina? Because if you didn’t, then I’ll—”

  “I’m good,” Dina said, cutting her off.

  Karla stared at Dina under lowered lids. Her former client appeared totally relaxed, and no doubt having an incredibly wealthy friend made her life less stressful. Ronald had told her that Lance Haynes was known in the computer world as the black Bill Gates.

  “How’s work, Dina?”

  Dina smiled at Karla. “It’s good.”

  “How many hours a week do you put in?”

  “Right now I’m clocking between ten and fifteen.”

  “Is that enough to pay your rent?”

  “No. But I’m going to be working with Sybil when she hosts private parties, and what I’ll earn from them will more than pay my rent for the month. If I work two or three times a month, then I can really save some money.”

  Karla sat up, her curiosity piqued. “Private parties?”

  Dina also sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the lounge chair. “Yes. I’m going to work as an exotic dancer for bachelor parties.” She’d lowered her voice so she wouldn’t be overheard by another woman sitting close by.

  Karla pushed off the chair. “Come into the house with me,” she ordered Dina. “We need to talk.”

  Dina followed Karla into the spacious coolness of the opulent mansion filled with furnishings she’d only glimpsed in magazines, wondering if she would ever live as grand as Ronald and Karla King. And there was no doubt that Cory and Sybil Cumberland also lived well. She’d discovered that all of the Kings’ guests were professionals: lawyers, doctors, college professors and a state judge. Several were CEOs of their own companies.

  She made certain not to call attention to herself. She responded when spoken to, mouthing what she knew were the appropriate quips when women smiled while their men gave her lecherous stares. If Lance noticed their hungry gazes, he didn’t reveal it. Most times she could find him nearby but not so close as to stifle her. Whenever she wanted something, he’d do her bidding. Publicly he was as attentive as he was whenever they were alone together.

  Karla led her into an in-the-home office, closing the door behind them. “Please sit down, Dina.”

  She complied, sinking down to a sand-colored suede love seat. “What do you want to talk about?” Dina asked Karla when she took a matching chair a few feet away.

  “Sybil’s private parties.”

  “What about them?”

  “When you say work—exactly what type of work will you be doing?”

  Dina stared at Karla, wondering how much she should divulge about her upcoming gig as an exotic dancer for a ballplayer’s birthday party. There was no doubt she and Sybil were good friends—why else would Sybil hire someone without a social security card or with prior work experience? Besides, she trusted Karla implicitly because how else would she have gotten her name changed legally without a court appearance.

  “I’m going to become an exotic dancer.” Lowering her voice conspiratorially, even though there was no one in the room to overhear them, Dina told Karla about her training and commitment to perform for Sybil’s clients.

  Karla felt a rush of excitement as she listened to Dina tell what she had to go through with a professional dance instructor to get her body in shape to perform for rich men living out their sexual fantasies by watching women prance around in next to nothing. She knew firsthand about entertaining men, finding it a power trip. Karla was as good at what she did because she made certain every man in attendance thought she’d become his private dancer. She was smiling when Dina revealed the costume that had been created expressly for her.

  Dina’s eyes were sparkling with excitement. “I can’t explain how I felt when I tried it on for the first time. And the moment I put on the mask I truly felt as if I was Sparkle, the green fairy.”

  Karla nodded, smiling. “Make them pay, Dina. The men you’re going to dance for aren’t the guys who hang out at the tits-and-ass bar on the weekend because they have nothing else to do except watch sports channels. And I know Sybil well enough to know that she’s going to charge them through the nose, so in addition to what she’s going to pay you, you should match it in tips.”

  Eyes wide, Dina stared at Karla as if hearing a language she didn’t understand. Was the lawyer saying that she could possibly make a thousand or more in tips? “How much do you think I can make in tips?”

  “If you don’t come away with at least a grand, then it’s not a good night. Most of these men will blow that much banging Vegas hookers with fake breasts that make her look as if she’s wearing basketballs. You’re young, pretty and everything a
bout you is natural. Even within the realm of fantasy, men want reality.

  “You’ll learn to convey that without opening your mouth when they tuck a bill into your G-string that the bidding starts with fifties. If someone gives you a twenty, then give it back until he ups the ante. If you think top-shelf, then you’ll be top shelf.”

  “How do you know so much about this?” Dina asked Karla, thinking perhaps that at one time she’d had a client who was an exotic dancer.

  A faraway look filled Karla’s dark eyes. “I used to dance.” She ignored Dina’s slight gasp. “I needed money to supplement my partial scholarships.”

  Dina nodded. Like herself, Karla did what she had to do to survive. “Were you good, Karla?”

  A secret smile softened the lawyer’s lips. “Yes, Dina. I was very good.” Her eyebrows lifted. “I suppose you should get back to your friend before he comes looking for you.”

  Dina stood up. “He probably doesn’t realize that I’m missing.”

  Karla wanted to tell Dina that she was wrong about Lance Haynes. Although he hadn’t hovered over her, he’d been aware of where she was at all times. “Even if he doesn’t, I don’t want him to think that I’m monopolizing his woman.”

  Smiling, Dina averted her gaze. It felt good to be referred to as Lance’s woman. She wanted to belong to him in every way possible. It’d been more than four weeks since her procedure and she was ready to sleep with Lancelot Haynes.

  “It was nice talking to you, Karla. And thank you for the tip about tipping.”

  “Anytime you want to talk to me—about anything—then call me, Dina. I was where you are now, and if it hadn’t been for one of my professors, I certainly wouldn’t be who I am today. We all need mentors and I’m personally appointing myself your mentor.”

  There was a moment of silence as Dina bit down on her lower lip. “Thank you.”

  Karla waved a hand. “Now go and get your man before some of these sex-starved heifers try to seduce him.”

  “But—but—they’re married,” Dina sputtered.

  “When does marriage stop a man or woman from straying? Those so-called nice folks lounging around my backyard all have closets filled with rattling skeletons, yours truly included in the mix. So don’t fool yourself into believing they’re above reproach. What you’ll eventually discover is that beyond the mansions and manicured lawns lies a moneyed world filled with sex, power, seduction and an occasional scandal. But we do what we do best—we bury our shit before it starts to stink.

  “Lance Haynes is a part of that world, even though he’s low-key. When you invited him to come with you, you had no inkling that my husband and Sybil’s would know him. It’s a very small world in which you’re going to become a major player.”

  “How do you know this?” Dina was certain Karla could hear her heart beating inside her chest.

  “You’re going to marry Lance, and the moment you do your life will never be the same. You’ve changed your name but not your face. Now what I’m going to say to you is free advice.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You can run from your past, but you can’t hide it. When you become Mrs. Lance Haynes, I suggest you keep a low profile. No unnecessary photographs. What may save you is that Lance is quiet and unassuming. Try and live your life away from the spotlight and you’ll have your happily ever after.”

  “Do you think I’ll jeopardize my future with Lance if I go through with my commitment as a private dancer?”

  Karla shook her head. “No. Right now you’re not married to him, and as a single woman you have a right do anything you want. Even when you marry, you should always maintain a measure of independence and autonomy. The man’s your partner, not your jailor or keeper.” She waved her hand again. “Go, Dina.”

  Waiting until the door closed behind the younger woman, Karla walked over to the window and stared out at the beginnings of a Japanese garden. Talking with Dina had sparked memories of her eye-popping, jaw-dropping routine as Chocolate Ice.

  She’d loved the money, but craved the attention she got from the men who’d come to see her perform. She’d cautioned Dina about independence and autonomy. In her marriage with Ronald they claimed both. The problem was she was getting bored with their open marriage because there wasn’t anyone in their Open Door circle she wanted to sleep with. Sex with her husband was not only satisfying but fulfilling.

  The rules for the Open Door mandated couples only, so Ronald wouldn’t be able to attend without her or vice versa. Maybe if she told him that he could get another member to sleep with him off-site, then he would be amenable to her opting out.

  The urge to return to dancing was something she thought about occasionally. She’d challenged herself when she pushed her body to extremes executing splits and contortions; she’d also loved the attention from the men who were enthralled by her physical prowess and she’d loved counting her tips at the end of the night. The high she’d derived from dancing was something that couldn’t be duplicated—not even when she had sex with her husband.

  CHAPTER 50

  “Are you ready to leave, baby girl?”

  Dina opened her eyes to find Lance hovering above her. The sun had set, taking with it the heat. The sky had darkened, and stars littered the nighttime sky like precious stones scattered on dark blue velvet. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep on the chaise.

  Sitting up, she ran her hand over her forehead and hair. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Not long.”

  “How long is not long?” she asked, embarrassed that she’d fallen asleep when she should’ve been interacting with Karla and Ronald’s other guests.

  She remembered after talking to Karla about becoming Sparkle, she’d returned to the pool area to relax and wait for her food to digest before taking off her shoes to dangle her legs and feet in the heated pool. Although the invitation had indicated that she should bring a swimsuit, she hadn’t because she wanted to wait before exposing herself to the chemicals in the water that might react adversely with her surgically altered vaginal area. Dr. Lowe had reassured her that she’d healed completely, but she was still apprehensive.

  Dina also recalled drinking a glass of champagne with the others while enjoying a slice of the most delicious strawberry shortcake she’d ever tasted. She’d discovered the contrast of the premium wine on her palate and the tartness of the fresh strawberries tantalizing; she’d downed two glasses of champagne before crawling up on the chaise and closing her eyes.

  Lance cupped her elbow and pulled her gently to her feet. She swayed slightly before he righted her. “Don’t worry about it, Dina,” he whispered near her ear. “You weren’t the only one sleeping.”

  She glanced around to find others on recliners and chaises, sound asleep. Dozens of lighted votives surrounded the perimeter of the pool and were set out on the tables. The flickering flames competed with light from strategically placed floodlights that reflected off the columns of the towering white Colonial-style mansion.

  Leaning against Lance to maintain her balance, Dina slipped her feet into her espadrilles. “You still shouldn’t have let me sleep,” she chastised softly.

  Lance wanted to tell Dina not to agonize over something that wasn’t that socially inept, but held his tongue. He didn’t want to argue with her. When he’d accepted the invitation to accompany her to Oldwick, he never could’ve imagined meeting two other African-American men who were also into computer engineering. After viewing a classic Bruce Willis action movie, he, Ronald and Cory had huddled together to discuss the merits of a new program recently introduced by a company challenging several computer giants.

  One hour became two, then three, and before long they were deeply engrossed in the pros and cons of testing configurations of software compatibility and other embedded software. While some of the other men discussed sports, they’d discussed high-tech electronics. He’d taken furtive glances at Dina on one of the lounge chairs near the pool, but hadn’t suspect
ed she’d fallen asleep.

  “Let’s make our goodbyes before leaving.”

  They found Karla with Sybil. The two women were laughing and talking softly with each other. Karla noticed them first.

  “I take it you’re leaving.”

  Dina nodded as she swallowed back a yawn. “Yes, we are. Thank you for everything.”

  Karla smiled. “I want to thank you for coming.” Her gaze shifted to Lance. “Ronald and I thank you for the champagne. I’m afraid our very thirsty guests drank more than half the case. Luckily I told Ronald to keep out three bottles for us.” Lance Haynes had brought twelve bottles of a much-sought-after imported champagne.

  Lance pulled Dina closer to his side. “I’d like to thank you for your generous hospitality. Dina and I would like to reciprocate. Whenever you and Ronald have a free weekend, we’d like you to come up to West New York for some R & R. I’ve already extended an invitation to Cory and Sybil to join us.”

  “I’m going to speak for Ronald when I say we’d love to come. Dina, please call me once you select a date.”

  Dina nodded numbly. She realized Lance had said we— not I—when he’d invited the Kings and the Cumberlands to his home and wondered if Karla had picked up on the reference that they were a couple. The reality was that she and Lance weren’t a couple. It’d been weeks since she’d spent the night in his guest room, and after the one encounter when he hadn’t been able to contact her Lance hadn’t stayed over at her apartment.

  They went out to dinner, took in a movie. He picked her up after work on weekends, and no matter how late the hour he always saw her to her door. Dina had insisted he take her home to convalesce without bringing his attention to her procedure; she also found that she liked being alone because it gave her time to discover exactly who she was. Sure, she was supposedly the new and improved Dina Gordon, but she was also cognizant that Adina Jenkins lurked just below the surface of her newly created persona.