by BWWM Club
*****
Lying at home in a master suite that would dwarf most houses on a regular street, Dawson contemplated his life. There was something missing. It had been a while since he felt so drawn to a woman and this one in particular was proving difficult to conquer. Somewhere in his mind, he wondered if race had any part in her hesitation. Yes, it would be a challenge, but this wasn’t the 60’s and people were more accepting of this kind of relationship. As the thought came to his mind he thought of his father, though he had passed, Dawson knew he would disapprove.
After his father’s passing, Dawson’s uncle Thomas took over the vacant paternal role. Jaded and a bit rough around the edges Uncle Thomas wasn’t always the most lovable character. He would be one to watch if this thing bloomed into something beautiful and if Dawson had his way at today’s final rehearsal, he would ensure the seed would be planted.
*****
Abby was acting funny. Work was being done, but a friend knew when her best friend’s aura was off. There was definitely something wrong. Keeping her answers short and professional, Abby made no small talk and her eyes were downcast. Because she too had her bad day’s (much like yesterday), Victoria left the matter alone. If it continued into the night, she would gently ask her friend if she could help. Maybe she just needed space.
Tonight there would be a change in menu. Some specially invited guests were added to the list and they wanted something a tad more substantial to eat. It was time to get creative.
There was something about pasta that moved Victoria, especially when bathed in some type of creamy sauce. The idea of a layered pasta bowl had been with her for a while and today Dawson and his rich friends would have some. The center would be some kind of surprise. Her mouth watered thinking about it, but that was just the main course, what of the entrée and dessert?
Soup - there was a soup recipe she had concocted years ago that included crab and spinach and a whole lot of pimento peppers. That would work for an entrée and the dessert would be a parfait. It seemed layers would be the theme for the night and she laughed at how it compared to her personality. Love, sadness, pleasure, pain and survival - all layers of her to be peeled back and exposed. As she washed the spinach for the beginning of her soup she remembered Timothy and his words, “You only live once.”
*****
The DMC Theater Live was bustling with activity and anyone observing would believe it was opening night. There were photographers and journalist conducting interviews and an artist had been hired to capture live drawings of the action. The air was wired with excitement and activity. Abby was still cold, but there was no time to coddle her. It was almost time for lights, camera, action.
Dawson looked like something out of an old novel with his brown blazer and fedora. He was entirely too much drama. The actors and actress disappeared behind the curtain and the play began. Sometime during the second act, Dawson turned to search the small crowd for Victoria. She sat in her customary position near the dining room she ran. Victoria caught his smile and wink and returned them before she caught herself. Damn this man.
Behind her back, Abby saw the exchange and was reminded of her failure to capture the rich man’s heart. Life was entirely too unfair and maybe she would have to step out of character to balance the uneven scales. Friendship would have to take the back burner for a while.
With just fifteen minutes to go before the performance ended, the wait staff assembled for instruction. Tonight there would be no buffet but rather a full sit down dinner service.
The tables were already laid and Victoria had inspected the cutlery and glassware with a fine tooth comb. She hated dry water droplet stains. The rousing round of applause indicated the beginning of Palette’s own performance. A few minutes later, the actors stepped into the room as well as the selected few from the journalist and photographers.
Small ramekins containing the festival soup as she called it, was placed in front of the hungry patrons and Victoria held her breath for the reactions. The lead actress closed her eyes and clutched her chest as a look of pleasure crossed her face. It was a home run.
Because Dawson believed himself to be one of the people, he too sat and ate with his dedicated staff. At the head table were the ghost director, a man Victoria didn’t recognize and Dawson. Their vote counted the most. Observing every spoonful from the shadows as she chatted with the head waitress, she waited to see if they would finish all of it. The bowls were scraped clean.
The same thing happened with the pasta bowl and the towering parfait. The guests were stuffed by the end of the meal. Searching for Abby who was chatting with some of the people, she called her over. She still carried the bland look on her face, but came over all the same. Victoria started to speak excitedly, “They enjoyed it! Give me a high five!” Victoria’s hand wavered in mid air alone as Abby simply nodded and moved back to her conversation. This was worse than Victoria thought.
Turning to walk away, she bumped into a broad chest. Apologizing, she stepped back and looked up at the towering figure to see who she may have injured only to be met with Dawson’s green eyes.
“Mr. Ledger, I do apologize.” She uttered sincerely.
“You should be sorry for making me fat… the meal was delicious to say the least and I notice you didn’t eat anything.”
“You had the time to watch me when your head was buried in your bowl?”
“I always watch over anything I have interest in quite closely.”
“And why exactly, are you interested in me?”
“Well, my dear Ms. Jones, I like rare things and I can clearly see that you are one of a kind. That suits my tastes just fine.”
“And suppose you are not my flavor, Mr. Ledger?”
“Oh, I guarantee you I am… and mixing your essence with mine would certainly lead to something wonderful. From a business perspective, I bet you will benefit from our mere association.”
Victoria laughed at his suggestion. Not one photographer had asked her a question about her business. Dawson’s venture was on showcase here not Palette. Retorting in confidence, Dawson added, “I bet you make the front page tomorrow”
Again, she laughed at his comment. The man was crazy but she decided to play along. Speaking sarcastically she said, “Yes Dawson, I am certain that will happen.”
“What will you do for me if it happens? A simple drink on Sunday evening is all I ask. What do you say?”
As long as she was in Florida only financial achievements, murder or crime had been on the front page. Dawson didn’t have the power to change that or so she believed. Sticking out her hand to confirm she had accepted his challenge she said, “I hope your Sunday reservation is for one because you will lose this bet.” Victoria teased.
Without a hint of humor in his voice he added, “No Victoria, I never lose.” Tipping his ridiculous hat he excused himself. Maybe Victoria had been set up.
*****
It was after six am when the phone started ringing but Victoria had been up since three am prepping the fruit for tonight’s dessert. Only for emergencies did she receive calls at this hour. Why else would anyone call her at this time anyway?
The voice of Dawson Ledger was crisp and bright for the early hour. This was the first time he had called her personally and she jumped at the chance to remind him of his losing bet.
“Calling early to admit defeat I see Mr. Ledger.” She said in a chipper voice.
“Not at all Madame, Have you seen the paper? If you haven’t, please feel free to go get one and call me back at this number. Just remember I like my women dressed in red. Remember that when we meet tomorrow.”
He hung up the phone before she could respond. Victoria stared at the receiver and pressed the off button. No sooner had she done that did it ring again. Repeating her introduction as Abby walked through the door, she listened to the voice on the other end. The woman was planning a baby shower in the richer region of Florida and needed a quote for one hundred guests and a signature cake. She
had seen the morning paper where James Southerland, the journalist had penned a front page piece on her work. Calling the food decadent, and indulgent, he heaped on compliments for the fledgling company endorsed by Dawson Ledger.
Taking the woman’s details before promising to call her back, Victoria hung up and looked at her best friend, “We’ve made the papers.” Waving the black and white folded leaves before her Abby said, “I know.”
Victoria never got to finish the article, the phone rang again and again. Palette was in demand. Turning off the ringer for a few minutes, Victoria cautiously approached Abby who was in the process of violently hacking a melon.
“What’s wrong Abby? Why won’t you talk to me? What have I done wrong?”
Her injured friend looked back at Victoria with tears in her eyes before saying, “When will it be my turn? When will good things happen for me? Even Dawson chose you over me and you flirt with him. Do you know how that makes me feel? I really liked him… It's just unfair.”
There were several ways to deal with this situation and Victoria chose the high road. Cupping her friend’s tears in her hands and wiping the moisture with her thumb, Victoria started to speak.
“Abby I would never leave you behind. You are my bedrock and whatever success comes my way I will share with you. This is a finely oiled machine and without you it cannot run. I need you to quieten these thoughts and see the big picture. This victory is ours to share. Regarding Dawson, I thought it was more of a star struck thing… I had no idea that you seriously wanted to peruse him. I have a meeting with him Sunday afternoon and I will inform him that I am not interested. You have my blessing to follow your heart if it leads you to him.”
Victoria stopped her speech and Abby’s tears dried up. She then looked into her boss’s eyes and said, “That would be silly now Victoria. I see the way he looks at you… He is smitten. When it’s my turn, love will find me.”
Both women smiled at having resolved their issues and turned up the ringer on the cordless phone. Palate was in demand and the canvas was Florida apparently.
*****
Both the owner of Palette Catering Craft and her assistant dressed in white for the night. Their chef jackets were starched and ironed in preparation for tonight’s grand event and the three extra vans needed to transport the food were packed and ready to go. The list for the dining room had doubled as word spread about the amazing chef working for DMC Theater live.
The number was such that Victoria and Abby would be using the theater’s cooperate kitchen to prepare the final plates. At seven pm the curtains parted and the orchestra struck their first note announcing the play ready to begin. Dawson was there at the front dressed in a single button jacket and slacks that hugged his legs all the way to his crocodile skin loafers. His hair had been combed and styled and a different watch circled his wrist just above the sparkling cuff links. They sparkled just as brilliantly as his eyes.
His wink had become a way of communication with her and she played along. Internally, Victoria had become excited at the prospect of speaking with this cocky man in private. Sunday couldn’t get here fast enough. Wasting time wasn’t something that Victoria believed in and she disappeared into the kitchen to snap the staff into shape. They had dinner to serve.
It was around eight thirty that the appetizers went out and the ball kept rolling from there. The specially invited guests and those from the VIP box filled the room while the journalist captured shots of the elite enjoying her food. The actors were there too, several pounds heavier from a full week of eating hearty meals.
The guests were having dessert when Victoria decided to do her duty and walk around the room. “Sumptuous, creative and decadent were words she heard over and over from every satisfied table. Intentionally, she visited Dawson’s table last. Victoria observed that he didn’t have a lady on his arm. Interesting.
“Good evening gentlemen. How are we this evening?”
Dawson opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by the man she had been unable to identify from last night. “We are great, you know I said to myself, it must be a black woman in the kitchen. You can cook girl.”
The use of black and girl from a white man she didn’t know from Adam, didn’t come off as a compliment. She glared at him in shock, contemplating if to respond as nastily as she would have liked. Victoria glanced at Dawson who had turned an odd shade of red. The ghost director at the table was equally stunned. She didn’t answer him, but instead turned on her heels and headed for the kitchen door.
In an instant, Dawson was behind her, quickly gaining speed to catch up with her short legs. “I’m sorry Victoria. He’s my uncle and a real asshole sometimes. I raked him over the coals about his brash statement.”
Quietly Victoria asked, “Is that all I am to you? A black girl who can cook? A house hand?” Holding her hand in a manner that indicated it would be better to comply, Dawson stalked off in the direction of the washroom bringing her along and once inside he locked the door. The kiss he planted on her full mouth was passionate but soft. He wanted her to understand that he was indeed sorry and no he wasn’t like that.
Releasing her and staring into Victoria’s eyes, he mumbled, “We are not all bad.” Victoria quietly left the bathroom unconvinced.
Chapter 5
There was going to be a settling of the score at Restaurant Pegasus this evening. Victoria contemplated not going. Dawson was too much and his family was even more. He didn’t deserve her company. The tug of war over her choice lasted all day and when four thirty rolled around, she made her final decision to go. She would be early, she didn’t need anyone to wait for her and it would let her regain some control over the evening.
He had suggested she wear red so she decided on orange. He could not and would not tell her what to do. He was a rich man, but still a man none the less and she would not be governed by someone who knew nothing about her. The dress ended just above her knees and was strapless. The layered outfit consisted of a plain rust orange sheath underneath with a floral transparent high low over dress that fluttered when she walked. The over dress ended just beneath her breast at the front, and brought attention to the ample area but still covered enough to be decent. It ended near her ankles in the back. The heels were nude with tiny crystals decorating the peep toe and the ankle strap.
Victoria’s makeup made her skin glow like copper and the nude lip gloss made her natural pout more alluring. She was ready. Her large apartment was in a middle class district where people knew each other and the buildings were at least fifty years old. She decorated it with her favorite colors - green, orange and a little black. Though it doubled as her place of work, it was well kept and she liked it that way. Order made things easier. It made for a quaint, almost village like feel and she loved it there. She used a taxi this evening - the service van would never do. At exactly five forty five she left her neighborhood for Pegasus and the equally white man who had invited her. She planned to make this their first and last date.
*****
Dawson had a stiff word with his uncle about the way he conducted himself. Being from the old school, he thought his comments to the chef were compliments and not insults. He saw no reason to apologize but when Dawson arrived at the restaurant, he intended to tell Victoria that his uncle was sorry.
He half expected her not to show. She had pride that was presently injured and Dawson knew she would withdraw. Pleasantly surprised that she was there first, he smiled and nodded as he approached the table. He loved that she was true to herself. Everyone here looked like they were from the same cookie cutter - thousand dollar shoes and platinum cards. None were unique like Victoria. She acknowledged his arrival with a conceited smile and he kissed her hand like a gentleman. His looks were distracting.
Dawson started the conversation. “Why are you so breathtakingly beautiful?”
She was quick to respond, “You would have to tell me Mr. Ledger… why do you find me beautiful?”
“Please, call me
Dawson. We are not at the theater and this is supposed to be a light setting.” Victoria did not offer him the privilege of calling her by her first name and he noticed.
He continued, “I like your personality. I also like the determined jut of your chin and this enchanting fragrance that you wear… it’s subtly magnetic.
The woman to their left thought she went unnoticed as she whispered and pointed at Victoria and Dawson. Victoria was sharper than that. She used the situation to launch into what was really on her mind.
“I’m flattered that you find me beautiful, but you see this white woman with the white hair next to us? She’s been whispering and pointing the entire time I’ve been here. As a matter of fact, she all but gawked when I came in. Can you handle that all of the time?”
Dawson sipped his pre dinner beverage and replaced the crystal tumbler on the brilliant white table cloth before responding. “ Did you ever stop to think that maybe she recognized you from the paper? Or probably she saw you at last night’s premiere. Don’t be so fast to think that people are judging you just because of your skin. “
“What about your uncle? As a representative of your family, he made his position quite clear on how my kind is viewed in circles like this.”
“My uncle is an old jackass who has sent his most humble apologies for saying those insensitive things to you. He knows he was wrong.”
“And what about you Dawson, have you ever dated a black woman?
Pausing for a second, he answered truthfully, “No, I haven’t, but aren’t all women the same? You need attention, nice clothes and some good sex to make you happy.”
The shallow answer was intentional. He wanted her to say what she was really looking for. Dawson knew she was more complicated than that. Victoria saw it for what it was and offered no satisfaction. She simply smiled and picked up her menu. She was bored with him or so she pretended.