“Yeah, I’ll think about that.” Ilene said as Charles headed up stairs and she rolled her eyes. She retrieved her phone from her purse and searched the contact log for the number for the lighting technicians. Just as she was about to press talk, she received an incoming call. The phone number didn’t look familiar, but it was a DC area code, so she assumed it was Marc calling from somewhere.
“Hello?” Ilene asked as she waited for her son’s voice.
“Mrs. Campbell?” A feminine voice answered her that cracked just a little when she said Ilene’s last name. Concerned that something had happened to Marc, Ilene quickly responded.
“Yes, this is she. Who is this?”
“Hi maam, you don’t know me, but I am calling because I don’t know what else to do, and I think that you might be able to help me. My name is Sherise Jenkins…”
Chapter 38 Marc
“You never told me your full name.” Marc said to his new date that bought his time and attention for $7000.
“Names are so formal, don’t you think?” She responded with mischief in her voice as she seductively eyed Marc. Taken aback by her boldness and clandestine sexual innuendo, Marc decided to tread lightly as he sat across from her on the sofa in the lobby of the hotel. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of Sherise’s nightmare.
“I just thought that it would be nice to know the name of such a giving woman. You really did a good thing in there. That money will go far for the kids that we mentor.”
His date, now growing impatient decided to up the anty.
“You haven’t begun to see the giving and good things that I can do.” Marc’s face glowed with embarrassment as she made her intentions unquestionably clear. This scared Marc just enough to back down from his previous intention of sleeping with the beautiful stranger.
“Wow. Is that right? Well, I am sure that some lucky man will have th pleasure to find that out. You probably have a thousand other things to do tonight, so here’s my business card so that we can schedule a night to have that outing.”
Natalie, now irritated by the apparent dismissal, responded.
“Outing? $7000 and all I get is a goddamned outing? What’s up with the S-E-X? You don’t need to waste time with the pleasantries. I already know what you really want. And it’s not for me to take your card. You can keep that shit, really.”
Marc was not sure how to respond to her brashness. Did she just assume that they would have sex? He certainly held the same assumption, until she became belligerent.
“Look lady, this isn’t some kind of call service. If you are that hard up for some dick, go right out on New York Avenue and have at it. You got my card. Good night and I wish I could say it was a pleasure meeting you, but that would be a lie.” Marc rose and buttoned his jacket.
The beautiful stranger sat looking at her expensive shoes, refusing to make eye contact. He turned to leave, agitated that he did not have a back up date to share his hotel suite with.
“Natalie.” The stranger spoke.
Marc hesitated as he turned around to face her. She spoke again. Her voice softened.
“My name is Natalie, and I am really sorry if I offended you. I have been drinking, and I shouldn’t have been because when I drink, these things happen and…”
Marc, now facing Natalie, witnessed tears streaming down her face as she lifted her head to speak to him. She appeared vulnerable and breathtakingly beautiful. Though she was wildly attractive to him, his desire to sleep with her dwindled as she parted her fragile lips. He had an overwhelming urge to hold her and protect her from the pain that hid behind her eyes. She was the type of woman that he envisioned when he daydreamed about meeting his wife.
“You don’t have to apologize Natalie. It’s cool, really. If I had a dime for every time I said something crazy out of my mouth because of alcohol, I would own this damned hotel.” The two shared a chuckle as he attempted to ease her into a comfortable conversation.
“Who did you come with? I hope that you’re not gonna drive yourself home in your condition. Do you need me to grab you a cab?” Marc’s outpouring of concern made Natalie’s eyes water. She willed back the tears as he smiled amiably at her. She attempted to reciprocate the smile.
“Thank you Marc, but I’m okay. I’m staying here so I won’t be jeopardizing anything but my ankles in these high assed heels.” Marc followed her long dark legs to her ultra sexy stilettos. He wanted to kiss the very ankle that she questioned.
“Nice shoes, Jimmy Choo?” Marc asked. Natalie, amazed by Marc’s knowledge of fashion was dismayed.
“Yeah, they are Jimmy Choo. I would ask how you know that but somehow I don’t think I want to know the answer.” Marc’s eyes widened.
“What? A brother can’t like shoes?” Marc asked.
Natalie responded enthusiastically.
“Yes, a brother can like shoes. But it takes a ‘special’ type of brother to be able to recognize these shoes. Regular men don’t care about details like that.” Natalie wore a curious smirk. Marc, now aware of Natalie’s assumption, grinned from ear to ear.
“Well, I guess you got me figured out then. What can I say?” Natalie sulked in the chair, deflated by Marc’s comment. Marc enjoyed watching her. Her smile disappeared.
“Are there any straight men in the damned universe? Am I in the matrix or some shit?”
Marc sat peering at the Persian rug of the high end hotel and struggled not to burst into laughter at Natalie’s comment. He refused to look up, as it would have allowed her to see the look of pure fascination on his face. He drank her every word. He savored the way that she articulated the letter ‘s’. He could even tell that she had a slight overbite that caused her “m” to sound a little lazy. He studied her. He was ae to collect himself after her five minute tirade that ended with the announcement that she was going to only deal with white men. He was puzzled.
“Now why would you want to do that? There are plenty of brothers who would love to be with you. You’re beautiful and you sound pretty smart.”
“Oh, don’t get it twisted. I’m very smart. The fact of the matter is that the guys that aren’t gay are married or want you to do damned back flips to be with them. I mean, I am a professional black woman with my own career and money. I should be turning brothers away. Instead, they pass me over because I am too “aggressive” and they go for a white girl. Or even worse, I have to act like dumb Dora to make them feel like they’re intelligent. And don’t even get me started on the color struck brothers who think dark-skinned is a curse word…”
Marc couldn’t help but smile at her monologue. She sounded just like one of the articles that he read in Essence while riding the train to work. Though he thought the writer was one of very few black women complaining about the scarcity of black men, he truly could feel Natalie’s dismay. He attempted to intercede on behalf of some of the black men that were so elusive.
“All men are not like that. Shame on them if they don’t recognize an intelligent sister with her shit together. They are probably just intimidated. No offense, but you do look like you could break a brother down. I don’t know about those other brothers, but I would date you.”
Natalie looked at Marc with skepticism.
“Oh yeah, I bet you would ‘date’ me. You would ‘date’ me really well. This shit is so Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Too bad you don’t ‘date’ women, right?”
Marc offered a devilish smirk.
“Who said I didn’t?” He waited for Natalie’s response.
Natalie leapt to her feet.
“See, that’s what I mean. Now here you are playing both sides. The sisters can’t catch a damn break. So what, you’re telling me that you’re bi? And what the hell is that about anyway? Either you like pussy or dick. This aint Burger King, muthafucka’. I can’t even believe that you would come at me like that after all that I just told you about brothers coming at me wrong.”
This time Marc stood and towered over Natalie. He could feel the sexu
al tension between them trickling down his skin.
“I never, not ever, told you that I like dudes. You decided that I did. I was going to tell that you were wrong, but you appear to know everything. You got it all figured out. Right, Na-ta-lee?”
Natalie folded her arms and peered angrily at Marc.
“You’re full of shit. I guess you think that you’re really funny, huh? You know this is some tired shit. You are wasting my time and have completely ruined my buzz. Thanks.”
Natalie turned around to leave. Marc grabbed her by both forearms and pulled her close to him.
“We both know you don’t really want to go. Do you?”
Marc’s face was so close to Natalie’s that she could feel the heat from his breath at the top of her temple. Her panties bore the evidence of the sexual attraction she felt to Marc. She fought her urge to surrender and hoped that he could not detect the accumulation of moisture that now threatened to stain her dress.
“Oh, and I guess you think I should just fall into your arms cause you’re so damned fine. Please! Is that the best you can do?”
Marc was growing agitated by Natalie’s resistance and released her.
“I see now why you don’t have a man. You’re bitter. No, scratch that, you’re straight evil. I don’t know who screwed you up, but I aint that brother.”
“No, you didn’t. Why can’t a sister just demand to be treated with respect without being called bitter or angry? The real problem is that you can’t handle a real woman with thoughts and a mind. You want the little stupid broads bouncing their asses on the videos or the hungry looking crack head models who are gonna treat you like you are the best thing walking the earth. Sorry, brah, but I am a little too intelligent for that.”
“There you go. Beyonce got yall thinking that yall the only ones who got your shit together. So what you got a house? Great. You gonna need one, because you gonna definitely be living alone. You got a degree? Outstanding. But women don’t understand that has nothing to do with if a man will want you or not. Women are crazy individuals. You all are nuts. One minute, you want a man to take care of you and pay your bills, keep your little nails and feet done. The next minute, you are kickin’ him to the curb because you don’t need him. Then yall write these dumb assed books and bash the men that yall call dogs, who yall never leave. Forget what Oprah said, if you want a man, check your damned attitude. The shit is unattractive, really.”
Natalie stood with both hands on her hips and prepared to launch a verbal assault on Marc’s monologue. He quickly placed one finger over her lips to silence her.
“See there. You looking as beautiful as I don’t know what and you want to come out of your mouth with ugliness. Just keep looking pretty, don’t say a word. I’m gonna go before you stab me. You have my card. Get at me when you’re not so angry.”
Marc gave her a warm kiss on the cheek and headed for the elevator. He wished that she wasn’t so damaged. He wished the same thing for himself. The bell for the elevator rang as the doors opened. He glanced back at his beauty looking so angry in the middle of the well appointed lobby. He smiled as he quietly killed what could have been between them in his mind.
Chapter 39 Natalie
Natalie stood in the center of the lobby, unsure of what to think of her exchange with Marc. Was he staying in the hotel? She wanted to run after him and beg him to spend the night with her, but she was far too proud to concede defeat and validate the type of behavior that she just dismissed as silly. She reasoned that he probably would call one of the many admirers watching him at the auction and invite her to his suite. She would come to him, without incident and have sex with him that made her feel like a woman. Natalie quietly wished that she were that woman.
She looked down at the business card in her hand. “Marchevis.” She fell in love with his name and scanned the card for a cell phone number. She convinced herself not to call the number as she balled the card up and shoved it into her clutch. As she watched him disappear in the elevator, she retrieved her phone from her purse. Two new messages. Three missed calls. The calls were from Eric, Heath, and number she didn’t recognize in the Houston area. She listened as Eric explained that he would indeed be staying with his new friend for the night and not to wait up for him. Heath sounded disappointed by the fact that he was leaving yet another voicemail message for her. She didn’t want him to think that she was discarding him and decided to call him.
She dialed his number and waited for him to answer. After the fourth ring, his recorded voice instructed her to leave her very important message. She disobeyed and ended her call. “Hell, I might as well call it a night.” Natalie said as she headed towards the elevator.
“Marchevis…Marchevis…Marchevis. Damn even the sound of his name turns me on.” She thought to herself as she pressed the button to call the elevator. She boarded the elevator thinking of her exchange with him. She chided herself for being so rude and ruining her chances of waking up in his arms. She searched her mind for a way to make it up to him. Most importantly, she wanted him to see the side of her that wasn’t a bad mixture of psychotropic drugs and alcohol.
Natalie opened the door to her suite only to find an infomercial for the ab roller waiting for her. After kicking off her strappy stilettos, she marched over to the king sized bed and dove under the covers, fully dressed. She flicked through what seeme like hundreds of infomercials only to settle on an old rerun of The Jeffersons. She smiled at the nostalgia that the show ushered with it. She recalled how she and Eric would rush home after school to watch it and Good Times before their mother got home and insisted that they watch the Bobby Jones Gospel Hour with her. Natalie was even more thrilled when she learned that it was a marathon until tomorrow morning. She decided that the night might not be so bad after all. She grabbed the leather bound room service menu and decided to spoil herself.
After deciding that she would feast on lobster, beef Wellington, a spinach salad, and a couple of bottles of Fiji water, Natalie felt content. For dessert, she would have a decadent slice of triple chocolate truffle cake. She decided against alcohol, considering how its affects had helped to sabotage her night. She picked up the phone to place her order when an idea struck her. She dialed ‘0’ for the operator and waited for an answer. When a very cheerful attendant named Cindy answered, Natalie warmed.
“Hi Cindy, this is Natalie Logan in suite 816 and I was wondering if you could help me with a few things…”
By the end of the call Natalie glowed with excitement. She slipped her stilettos back on and headed for the bathroom. She quickly splashed water on her face and removed what was left of her make up. She brushed her teeth and sprayed on a fruity fragrance by Bath and Body Works. The infamous dress remained on. She then relaxed and waited for the fateful knock on her door. She chuckled lightly as George Jefferson slammed his.
Chapter 40 Marc
Marc reclined on the bed watching a documentary about the prohibition of alcohol on the History Channel. His uneasy scowl revealed his disgust. He was thoroughly frustrated that his night turned out to be a flop and he was sitting alone in his suite while he heard Reggie next door doing his thing. He decided against calling one of the women with stars by their names programmed in his phone. They would require coaxing and would likely want to spend the weekend with him. He was not in the mood for their drama.
Natalie’s face kept flashing in his head, replaying itself as if it were secretly programmed to do so. He wanted to believe that she was crazy and bitter and not worthy of a second thought. He could still smell her. It annoyed him and defied his caliber that he wanted to kiss her so badly it made him ache when they were next to each other. He struggled to get comfortable, but his now erect manhood refused to allow such a luxury. He didn’t get a card from her to call her and doubted that she would ever call him. He blew it. The thought of seeing her once more excited and depressed him as he knew it was a lofty goal.
Periodically, he checked his phone to see if she had called, o
nly to find missed calls from Sherise. He struggled not to allow himself to think of their exchange. Anger pulsated through every cell in his body when he saw her sitting in the audience at the auction. He wanted to go off, but decided it would only make him look like a monster to berate this obviously pregnant woman in public.
His thoughts returned to Natalie. He closed his eyes and saw her chocolate skin draped over his. He wanted to touch her and was driving himself mad. Before he was aware of what he was doing, he realized that he was stroking himself as he replayed her seductive voice over and over in his head. He was about to climax when he was startled by a knock at the door. He quickly adjusted himself and wiped his hands on one of the towels in the bathroom.
“Who is it?” He asked, sure it was Reggie coming to ask if he had any extra condoms and to invite him to the festivities.
“Room service, sir.” The male voice answered from the other side of the door.
Marc swung the door open to find a cart filled with food and wine.
“Oh, you must have the wrong room. I didn’t order this stuff.”
The room attendant gave a knowing smiy md motioned for Marc to move aside so he could wheel the cart into the room.
“Of course, sir. This meal was sent compliments of a guest staying with us. Enjoy.” The attendant exited the room without waiting for a gratuity.
“Gaddamn!” Marc said to himself as he stood in front of the cart and unveiled covered dishes of porterhouse steak, lobster, asparagus, and whipped potatoes. He thought maybe he shouldn’t dine on the delicious food since he didn’t know who sent it. He opened the bottle of Merlot chilling in the bucket and poured a glass as he grabbed one of the strawberries on the plate next to it. He secretly hoped that Natalie had sent the food and a way to contact her to thank her for the gesture. He wanted to thank her…a lot.
Smiling gratuitously, he wheeled the cart to the bed. He loosened his tie as he said his grace to protect him from any harm that was intended for him through the food. He reached for the cloth napkin only to find a delicate handwritten note on the hotel’s stationery folded inside. He beamed as he read the very feminine handwriting:
A Price to Pay for Everything Page 26