by Jaye McCloud
Clearly agitated, he says good night to us and walks to his car. Before getting in, he pins me with a remorseful look. “Tiressa, I’m sorry about everything. Can I call you?” Nodding my head, I reply automatically. “Yes.” I just want him gone. When Derrick drives off, I exhale a long shaky breath I didn’t even realize I had been holding.
Carmen and Janette start talking at the same time. “What’s the matter with you?” from Janette, “It didn’t go well?” from Carmen. I answer Carmen’s question. “No, it didn’t go as well as I had hoped. He was a little upset…maybe even disappointed. But I think it had more to do with his pride than with me not wanting to date him. He’s just that arrogant.”
“Girl. What’s wrong with you? So what if the muthafucka is arrogant. Hell, ain’t nothin wrong with an arrogant man! That just shows he has confidence. He’s the shit and he knows it.” Trust Janette to be so eloquent in her language.
Carmen—never one to miss an opportunity to get Janette even more revved up—throws in a question guaranteed to do just that. “What about his pride? Tiressa thinks Derrick’s upset because she hurt his pride when she dumped him.” Carmen looks at me with a clever little self-satisfied grin. We both know what she has just done.
“The hell with his pride, you really gonna give up a prime opportunity to eat at fancy restaurants, and go on lavish shopping sprees. How bout the exotic places he wanted yall to visit together?! All paid for by him! Really?! And why the hell are you passing up lots of hot freaky wild sex with his good-looking ass?! You ain’t had your cherry popped in a looong time.”
Carmen interrupts her. “How the hell do you know Derrick is a freak in bed?” She ask with a big toothy smile.
“Don’t you see his sexy ass. You can’t tell me he doesn’t know how to work a dick. Besides, what white man ain’t freaky. Now, I’m not into white dudes, but I’ll sho’nuff date one like him ….and rroooock his fuckin world!”
Shaking my head at her extra-crispiness, I reflect on not only our friendship, but also who we are as individuals and how we relate to one another. Our language can be on the salty side, but I love that! Because it’s real, it’s authentic and it’s us. This is the message that I try to get thru to my students who live, sleep and eat slang. My friends and I are examples of how you can be totally inappropriate when you’re speaking with friends, and then switch to more appropriate language when the need arises—like out in public around other people, on a job, or in a proper setting—with ‘proper’ acting people. Multifaceted…that’s what we are.
Just to be contrary, I tease. “No you wouldn’t Janette, you know you love Brian.”
Ignoring my comment, Janette continues. “You’re outta your mind! Tiressa, can’t you see you’re doing the same thing with Derrick that you did with Clarence? And Keith Rogan before him? You keep finding something not to like about them.”
“Wait! Who the hell is Keith Rogan?” Carmen cuts in again.
“He’s one of the top lawyers for the school board. A nice chocolaty mandingo brotha—with a big dick.” That last part really sparks Carmen’s interest. Instead of commenting on the size of Keith’s dick, she swings her inquiring eyes to my mutinous expression and asks, “What happened with you and Keith Rogan? Why aren’t yall together?”
“Shifting my nostalgic gaze to the far side of the park, I recall Keith fondly. He was a good guy. Average height, dark, and not so handsome; which is what I liked about him. His looks complemented his personality, and both were appealing to me. I’m sure he’s great husband material; just not for me.
Focusing my eyes back on Carmen, I reluctantly respond to her question. “We had the makings for a real good, solid relationship. He was nice and caring and generous. He treated me well. Very well. But he wanted to move things faster than I was prepared to go.”
“Look, Tiressa, I’m your girl. So you know I’m gonna keep it real with you. You’re just too damn persnickety. You want the earth, the moon and the stars above. You want it all. And if a man isn’t perfect, then his ass gets the sharp side of the ax.”
“That’s not true Janette! I never look for perfection in anybody…because no such person exists!” I can’t believe she’s not understanding my point of view. She really thinks I’m too picky…too difficult to please. That I’m uppity like Clarence once accused?
“Janette’s right, Tiressa. You got all kinds of men chasing you…from executives to lawyers to regular everyday guys. And you’ve rejected them all, for one reason or another. Men are meant to be enjoyed. Dating a man is like driving a rental car. You enjoy the way that car rides, for the time that you have it…while getting the most out of it. Then you trade it in for the feel and experience of another make and model. Sometimes you have your rental for a very short period of time, and sometimes you want to keep it a little longer. In the end everyone is satisfied because everyone got what they wanted.”
“I get what you’re saying Carmen. But I’ve never been the ‘lease a car’ type…is that something like ‘lease a dick’? Because if so, that’s just not my style.” Looking Carmen straight in the eye, I get snazzy with her. “Is that what Jason Bentini is to you, another car to lease?” Carmen, always one to stand her ground, gets snazzy right back. “Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. But at least I’m not afraid to get out there and test drive a muthafucka.”
I say heatedly to both of them. “Look. It just didn’t feel right to me! It didn’t feel right with Keith! It didn’t feel right with Clarence! And it didn’t feel right with Derrick! Am I supposed to put my wants and needs and feelings to the side just to make sure they get what they want?!”
“No. But in all honesty, I don’t think you give it a real chance to work. Tiressa, you have to admit that you tend to decide quickly that the relationship isn’t working or going to work and therefore isn’t worth putting the time and effort into developing. You give up so easy.
Girl, there will be hardships in just about any and every relationship. I don’t know anyone who’s had easy-breezy relationships…they just don’t come that way.”
“Okay, Janette, I’ll give you that.” I concede grudgingly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m holding out for some mythical, perfect man. That’s just not the case.”
Swinging my gaze back to Carmen, I ask, “Well?” She just shrugs her shoulders and says, “Ditto. You know we’re right. You’re never going to be truly happy until you stop running from men and relationships. You have to open yourself up to the notion that having a man in your life is better than going through life alone and lonely.” Then Carmen gets this sly look on her face as she turns to Janette. “What I want to know is –Janette how do you know Keith Rogan has a big dick?” Janette rolls her eyes at Carmen. “I know a big dick when I see one. That brotha keeps a pipe bulge in his pants? I saw him again when I went for a training at The Taj last month. I was practically eye-raping him, I was staring at his shit so hard.” Carmen laughs, but I don’t want to think about Keith any more than I already have tonight. To cover that emotion, I say something totally unrelated to our conversation. “I love how everyone calls the school board’s district office building the Taj Mahal, I wonder who started it.” Carmen and Janette give me twin looks that say, nice try. Then Carmen asks in a serious voice. “So, Tiressa, what really happened with Clarence? We know that he didn’t take your dumping him well, but was he really such a bad guy?”
Instead of answering that question, I respond, “Look. I may not know exactly what wrong is. But I definitely know what right feels like. They didn’t feel right. Those relationships didn’t feel right—for whatever reason. I don’t know how else to explain it. Maybe I’m just not ready to be dating—”
“Nah, don’t even try it! Four years is three years, eleven months, and twenty-nine days too damn long to be without a man –and his dingaling! No matter what color it is. Ain’t you tired of your coochie collecting dust?”
Again, such eloquence! Although Janette is over the top, there’s usually a bit of truth
in what she says.
Unfortunately, some of my friends define their relationship with a man in terms of what the man can do for them financially. And sometimes, sexually. They would rather have a piece of man—as they call it—than to have no man at all.
No matter what they think, these are my friends, and I can’t be mad at them. I wish Rachael were here to give her opinion. Our personalities are more alike than me and Janette’s or Carmen’s.
To get them off this topic of conversation, I start a different one…
“Well, one good thing that came out of all this is that I put in an application at Bentini and Sons. I’ve already had my first-round interview, and I’m hoping they’ll call me in for a follow-up interview. If I get the job, I’ll have extra money coming in during the summer months when school’s out.”
They both look at me in complete surprise. “When did you do all that?” Carmen asks.
“A couple of months ago; when Derrick and I first started talking. I told him I was looking for summer employment and he suggested that I send in my résumé and application for a temp position. He even let me list him as a personal reference. I also listed Rachael, but I don’t think anyone in personnel is really going to know that she’s a cousin of the Bentini’s.
“Well, aren’t you the sneaky one.” Janette says. I smile at both of them. “Yeah, that was kinda sneaky. But yall know that the only sure secret is the one you don’t tell anybody, including your best friends. Anyway, there’s no guarantee that I’ll be hired. Some of the other teachers have probably done the same thing. Now that we’re in partnership with B&S, they figure–just like me—that there’s a slim chance it bolsters their probability of getting hired. Besides, I heard that B&S has partnerships with several other schools in our district. That means my probability decreases even more. I’m hoping that by having Derrick’s name as a reference it will give me a small advantage. We’ll just have to wait and see.” That last part was said with false nonchalance. I’m hoping against hope that I get summer employment at Bentini and Sons.
Carmen looks at me in her distinctive mischievous way, and says. “You may be sneaky, but I’m sneakier.” Then she giggles and explain what she’s talking about. “Jason told me that Derrick told him that you wanted a job at B&S. Well, I asked Jason to pull some strings and help you get a position, if not at B&S, then at one of their other businesses in the city. You know they have a store up on the boulevard.”
When I just sit there staring at her in shock with my mouth hanging open, she squeals. “Well, what do you think?!”
“Oh my gawd, Carmen. I don’t know what to think.” The words tumble out.
“What’s wrong with you, Ti? You should be glad she has your back.”
“Janette stop being the damn friend police. I’m glad Carmen has my back. But I don’t want Jason to think that I put her up to it or that I want to exploit our friendship for my own personal gain.”
Janette purses her lips and rolls her eyes at me. Carmen tries to allay my concern. “Girl, you know Jason isn’t like that. He likes you and he said he didn’t mind at all.” When she sees that I’m still not all that sure, I think she tries to distract me by asking, “What if you do get a job at B&S and you end up running into Derrick every day?”
“Gawd I hope not. Besides, that shouldn’t be a problem because he’s in upper management. I applied for an entry level position. So there should be little to no chance of us running into each other.
***
It took several long, drawn out, and sometimes heated, conversations for Derrick to finally accept that I wasn’t going to change my mind about not being his girlfriend. Eventually we agreed to remain friends. He wasn’t exactly pleased about it, but he wasn’t angry either. I didn’t go on any more dates with him. If Carmen invited me out with her and Jason Bentini, I would make sure that Derrick wasn’t invited too. In fact, the only time I saw Derrick was when he and Jason came to our school’s annual end of the year staff dinner. We all had a good time celebrating the completion of a particularly rough school year. Derrick and Jason mingled with the other staff members, and business representatives, but they came back to our table repeatedly.
That day I was extra-crispy happy because I had received a call from the personnel department of Bentini and Sons. I was asked if I would like to come in for a second interview. To which, I shouted, “Hell yeah, of course I would!”
Okay, so that last part happened in my mind. I’m not a damn fool.
Chapter 3
The morning of my callback interview was a complete disaster. Although my alarm clock went off, I didn’t immediately get up, and as a result ended up running thirty minutes late all morning. After scorching one of my favorite blouses, stopping to gas up my car, and driving like a damn maniac, I arrive at Bentini and Sons with ten minutes to spare.
The building is located just off one of the main roads. I decide to pay for parking on the street, since I don’t figure I will be inside for more than an hour or so. Bentini and Sons’ property takes up a good chunk of land space. The office building has five floors, with a huge warehouse, and a distribution and receiving center. It faces a nice-size park across the street and has several small businesses and cafés on both sides.
Walking through the tall, tinted glass doors, it’s apparent that B&S believe in security because you can’t just walk in off the street. You have to check in with the receptionist—who looks more like a nightclub bouncer.
I impatiently shift my weight from one high-heeled foot to the other as I watch the guy seated at the reception desk checking identifications and giving directions. I can’t help noticing the security guard standing in close proximity, appearing alert and vigilant. There’s nothing wrong with a lot of security. That just means that disgruntled employees, or anybody else who may have intent to do harm, will be more effectively stopped before any real damage can occur. I ain’t mad at that…that’s how it is at The Taj.
The attentive security guard, a handsome black man with a clean-edged, tight-looking dreadlock hairstyle, catches my eye. I’m not usually attracted to men with dreadlocked hair, but it looks good on him. And it doesn’t hurt that he has a very athletic body, and is wearing the hell out of his uniform. I’m not a man-gawker, but I do sometimes like to look.
“Hello…” I smile at both the brawny receptionist and the hunky security guard…correction, security officer—he actually has a gun, a taser, handcuffs, and a baton…the whole nine yards. “…My name is Tiressa Hawkins, I have an appointment with Ms. Carlito.” Addressing the receptionist, who smiles back at me, checks his lists then directs me to the elevators that lead to the fifth floor. I thank him and head in that direction.
As I walk past the chocolate Adonis security officer, our eyes meet again. He beams a confident grin at me and says, “Good morning lovely lady.” His voice is deep, rich and very masculine. This may be a new level of sensual sexy baritones for me. With a smile of my own, I reply, “Good morning Officer…” I pretend to squint to see the name on his ID badge and he promptly offers… “Langston. Allen Langston, mam.”
“Mam is my mom.” I flash him a cheeky grin. “And good morning to you, Officer Langston.” I say in my seldom used, fake soft drawl, as I sashay on across the lobby to the bank of elevators well aware that his bold eyes are glued to my firm round derrière. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m behaving almost like Carmen.
Although, I’ve been here before, I’ve never been on the fifth floor. When I interviewed the first time, it wasn’t with Ms. Carlito. I don’t know who she is. I reason, she must be someone important if her office is located on the fifth floor. Stepping off the elevator, the butterflies that I’ve been suppressing since I entered the building, hit me full force and my legs actually tremble as I walk to the big receptionist desk twenty feet in front of me. Pasting a big smile on my face, I address the woman who’s looking at me expectantly.
“Good morning, my name is Tiressa Hawkins, I have an appointm
ent with Ms. Carlito.”
The middle-aged receptionist kinda resembles Alice from the Brady Bunch. “Good morning. Please sign in, take a seat, and I’ll let Ms. Carlito know you’re here.” She responds with a nice friendly smile directed right at me. I thank her and take a seat in the well-lit, comfortable reception area. I’m leafing through a magazine when a tall lady with salt and pepper hair laid back in a classic bun, comes out of one of the offices and sedately approaches me. “Hello, I’m Ms. Carlito”, she introduces herself. “And you must be Ms. Hawkins?”
“Yes, yes I am...” I smile, quickly standing up and shaking the hand she extends in greeting, “…and pleased to meet you.” I happily respond, so relieved that her smile wipes out the stern features of her face. “I am Mr. Bentini’s executive assistant. I work closely with all the members of the Bentini family here at Bentini and Sons.”
What the hell is going on? Why is someone so high up interviewing me for such a simple position?
Ms. Carlito invites me to follow her into a rather large corner office. As I walk through the door, I notice another woman across the room sitting behind a beautiful elaborately designed desk. I must have a confused look on my face because Ms. Carlito says, by way of explanation, “Let me introduce you to Mrs. Bentini, The Boss Lady. She says this with so much warmth that it puts me somewhat at ease. But, not by much.
Although, there are few deep wrinkles on her face, and absolutely no hint of gray in her hair, I judge Mrs. Bentini to be in her mid to late fifty’s. Glancing at the pictures strategically placed around the office, I quickly realize that this elegant woman sitting before me must be the matriarch of the Bentini family.