A Love of My Own

by E. Lynn Harris

  Zola was shocked and disappointed and told Davis he already did that every time he paid taxes, and she would be more than happy to take him to some of the schools she’d seen in New York and show him how his money was being wasted.

  Veronica’s request was denied.

  * * *

  20

  __________________

  Before my day got started, I gave Basil a call at his office. I wanted to tell him about Sebastian and see when he could meet with him.

  “’Sup, Raymond Tyler? What did I do to start my day off so good?” Basil said.

  “I guess you’re living right,” I said.

  “What can I do for you? Or what can I do to you?” Basil asked with sex dripping off every word.

  “I got somebody I want you to meet,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “Actually it’s somebody you already know, or at least you’ve met.”

  “So you don’t want to have nothing to do with a playa so you giving me to somebody else. Does he look as great as you?” Basil asked.

  I was wondering how many conversations he had like this every day in his office, as I tried to keep my mind on the business at hand.

  “It’s not that kind of party. He’s an ex–football player like yourself who just got cut by the Chargers. He’s really good friends with my brother, Kirby, so be on your best behavior when you meet him,” I said.

  “Why do I need to meet him?”

  “He’s interested in becoming an agent. You might need somebody to help you with the young boyz. We aren’t getting any younger,” I said, laughing.

  “Speak for yourself. Also, ain’t every ex–football player trying to be an agent?”

  “He remembers meeting you and had good things to say about you,” I said.

  “Where did he play?”

  “Florida State.”

  “Then I know I don’t want to meet him again. I spent a lot of time in that country-ass town, and most of the brothers down there end up signing with the white boys,” Basil said.

  “Will you at least meet him and talk with him about the business?”

  “What am I gonna get out of it?”

  “The satisfaction of helping out a young brother.”

  “I need more than that.”

  “I’ll bring him by so you’ll get a chance to see me,” I said.

  “Now we’re talking. When and where?”

  “You tell me,” I said.

  “I haven’t been to the Shark Bar in a while. Let’s meet there,” Basil said.

  “Cool. Is it still on Amsterdam?”

  “Yeah, between Seventy-fourth and Seventy-fifth. Meet you guys around seven.”

  “Cool. Have a nice day.”

  “I’m sure I will. Look how it started.”

  Davis called just before I was getting ready to leave the office to meet Basil and Sebastian. He wanted to talk about yet another company in London he was trying to buy and one he wanted to sell. I was beginning to wonder when he ever just cooled out and relaxed.

  I couldn’t get a cab even in front of my office building, so I walked a few blocks and caught a train to the Seventy-second Street station. It never failed that when I walked out of this particular station I looked toward Columbus Avenue and the block where the Nickel Bar used to be. A bar where I had many fond memories during my stay in New York during the late eighties. I would think about my friends, many of whom were dead, the music, and the many Friday nights when I entered with hopeful anticipation that I was going to meet the man of my dreams.

  A few minutes later I saw the dark blue awning with THE SHARK BAR emblazoned across it. I walked into the dimly lit small bar area and immediately my eyes met Basil’s. He was smiling broadly, and I realized that he was already talking with Sebastian. I walked over toward them and Basil extended his hand and said, “Mr. Tyler, so good to see you again.”

  Sebastian turned around quickly with a pleasant smile and said, “’Sup, homes? Thought you’d forgotten ’bout a brotha.”

  “’Sup, Sebastian. Just got caught up with something at the last minute at the office. I see you two have reacquainted yourselves.”

  “Yo, dude is cool. I might be able to find something for him,” Basil said.

  “Great,” I said as I looked toward the bartender. I ordered a cranberry juice because I was debating going back to the office to get a head start on the information Davis had given me about the companies he was buying in London.

  I was taking a sip of my cranberry juice when Sebastian pulled out a white envelope and handed it to me.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Take a look,” Sebastian said.

  I opened the envelope and saw a contact sheet with several pictures of Sebastian in several stages of undress. I mean, he had on clothes, but the pictures showed what an incredible body Sebastian was hiding beneath his baggy jeans and jacket.

  “What are these for?” I asked, making sure I wasn’t staring too hard at the pictures.

  “I’m going to use them in my ad for training,” Sebastian said.

  “Let me see,” Basil said as he reached for the pictures.

  “I wanted to ask you what magazines and newspapers I should run ads in. I’m also gonna get some cards made and leave them at gyms around the city,” Sebastian said.

  “These are tight, dude. Just make sure you don’t run ads in some of those gay magazines. I mean, with these pictures, your phone’s going to be ringing off the hook and those faggots won’t be looking for training,” Basil said, laughing but looking at me from the corner of his eye.

  “I hear ya, ’cause I ain’t looking for no faggot clientele,” Sebastian said as he exchanged dap with Basil.

  I felt my body become warm and I placed my drink on the bar and made eye contact with Basil and said, “You two seem to be getting along just fine. I’m leaving.” I didn’t say good-bye to either Sebastian or Basil.

  I was halfway down the block, heading toward Seventy-second when I heard Basil call my name. I didn’t stop but increased my pace. I could hear the sound of shoe soles running and a few seconds later Basil was standing in front of me, moving backward.

  “Ray . . . man . . . stop and talk to me. What was that about?”

  “What in the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Why did you leave like that? Left me hanging with youngblood. Old dude doesn’t know what to think,” Basil said.

  “Basil, I don’t give a fuck what either one of you thinks,” I said as I kept walking toward the subway station. I could see the bright lights of the hot dog stand made famous for still selling food for under a dollar, and people moving with care along the sidewalks. I was making eye contact with strangers rather than Basil.

  “Ray, come on, man. Talk to me. I’m sorry.”

  I suddenly stopped and turned toward him and said, “That’s the only truth you’ve probably spoken today. You are a sorry mutherfucker.”

  “Why you got to make everything about being correct? We’re just boys hanging out. Playing the game.”

  “I’m too old for games.”

  “Come on back to the bar. I promise I won’t use that word again.”

  “I got more important things to do,” I said. I saw the light change to green and I darted across the street like I was running the hundred-yard dash, leaving Basil in the dust.

  21

  __________________

  It was late and I thought I was the only one at the office until I heard a door shut. I got up from my desk and walked toward the outer office and saw Raymond reviewing some messages. What was he doing here so late? There was only one way to find out.

  “Raymond, I thought you were gone for the day,” I said.

  Raymond seemed a little surprised to see me, but he looked up and said, “Oh, hi, Zola. Just thought I’d get a head start on tomorrow.”

  “Trying to impress the boss?” I asked.

  “Not really. What are you doing here?” Raymond asked.

&n
bsp; “Oh, an editor’s work is never done,” I said.

  “Oh,” Raymond said.

  “Are you all right?” It was obvious his mind was on something besides me and my magazine.

  “I’ve had better days,” Raymond said.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Do you have a magic wand that can get rid of all the world’s seriously deranged people?” Raymond said. The wry smile on his face let me know he wasn’t really serious.

  “It’s a good thing I don’t have something like that, because I would have to zap some people I really love on most days,” I said. I walked over toward the receptionist station where Raymond was standing and pressed my backside against the desk. Sounded like Raymond needed to talk.

  “So who’s been bothering you?” I asked as I playfully put my arms around Raymond’s shoulders.

  “How have you women put up with us men for so long?” Raymond asked.

  “If I could answer that, I wouldn’t have to look at another magazine layout or model comp card in my life. The one thing I know for sure about you men is that eventually you’ll fuck up. You guys are consistent about that,” I said, laughing.

  Raymond shook his head and said, “You know, Zola, you’re right.”

  “I wish it weren’t true,” I said. Raymond smiled at me and said, “I think I’m going to get my work and take it home. How long are you going to be here?”

  “Maybe an hour or so,” I said.

  “Be careful. I don’t like the idea of you being here by yourself,” Raymond said.

  “Trust me, I have been up here way past midnight.”

  “Thanks for listening,” Raymond said.

  “I wish I had that wand,” I said.

  “So do I,” Raymond said as he walked down the hallway toward his office.

  I went back to my office, still in search of the perfect man at least on the outside.

  After hours of reviewing guys for the Sexiest Brothaman Alive contest, my eyes grew tired of good-looking half-dressed men with confident and sexy smiles and I decided to call it a night. I put on my white knee-length coat, grabbed my purse and briefcase, and headed toward the door. I turned off the lights and was walking toward the door when I heard the buzzer. It scared me. Who was buzzing so late? I looked down the hallway to see if any light was coming from Raymond’s office, but I could see the lights were out from the clear glass panels on the side of the wood door.

  I went over, pressed the intercom, and said, “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Raymond Tyler,” a deep male voice said.

  “I think he left,” I said.

  “Hey, you think I can use the phone?”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m a good friend of Raymond’s. My celly is dead. I promise you, I’m totally harmless.”

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Basil Henderson,” he said.

  “Let me call Raymond and see if he knows you,” I said.

  “Cool,” he said.

  I waited a few minutes, pretending I was calling Raymond. The truth was I didn’t have his home number, but I figured if this man was legit, then he would wait. I then pushed the intercom and asked, “Are you still there?”

  “Yep. Did you talk with Raymond?”

  “Sure did, said he never heard of you,” I said, trying very hard to keep myself from laughing.

  “Come on now, Miss Lady with the Beautiful Voice. I know my good friend didn’t . . .”

  I opened the door, and I don’t know if my eyes bucked or my mouth dropped, but I know one of them happened as I stood face-to-face with one of the best-looking men I had seen in a long time. When he smiled I know my knees began to wiggle like a bowl of yogurt.

  “. . . say anything like that,” Basil said.

  “I was just kidding. I couldn’t reach him,” I said.

  “Now, I hope you don’t open the door like this for everybody,” he said.

  “I’m not worried. It takes a lot to scare me,” I said.

  “Please tell me the name that belongs to such a lovely lady,” Basil said as his beautiful eyes scanned me from my own eyes to the toes of my black mules.

  “Zola Norwood,” I said.

  “Nice meeting you, Zola. I wonder why Raymond hasn’t told me about you.”

  “Does Raymond handle your social life?” I asked.

  “Not at all, but he knows how much I appreciate a beautiful woman.”

  “Do you still need to use the phone? I really need to get home. It’s been a long day,” I said.

  “Yeah, I do. But after I make my call, what would I have to do to convince you to have a drink with me?”

  “Do it some other time. I’m going home.”

  “You’re tough. Where’s the phone?”

  I pointed to the phone on the receptionist’s desk and Basil walked over slowly to the area, turning his head every few seconds to see if I was looking at him. I was, but he couldn’t tell. He was a handsome man, and I was wondering why Raymond hadn’t introduced us.

  Basil made his call and hung up after a few minutes. He turned toward me and smiled.

  “You get in touch with Raymond?”

  “Yeah, he’s at home. He said he was tired too. You people must work hard here,” Basil said.

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “What would you like me to do?”

  “I would say model.”

  “Not hardly,” Basil said.

  “Now, I know someone has told you you could model if you wanted to,” I said.

  “People have told me I do a lot of things well.”

  “Would you be interested in doing some shots for me?”

  “Are you a photographer?”

  “No, but I have this issue I think you might be great for,” I said.

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “I would have that drink with you and you would have a whole lot of female fans all across the country,” I said.

  “Let me think about it,” Basil said.

  “I don’t have much time,” I said. I looked in my bag and pulled out one of my cards. I printed my cell number on the back and then handed it to Basil.

  “So will I be naked in these pictures? You want to see me butt-ass naked?”

  “That will be between you and the photographer,” I said.

  “Are you going to be at the shoot?”

  “So you’ll do it?”

  “Not so fast. I still need to think about it,” Basil said.

  “That’s fair. But I hope you’ll call me soon,” I said as I noticed it was almost ten o’clock.

  “Damn, what am I thinking, the women of the world needs to see this jammin’ body I got. I’ll do it. Naked, half naked, whatever the pretty lady wants,” Basil said.

  “Thank you. I know you’ll be great,” I said.

  “Can I offer you a ride home? Maybe I could give you a little preview of what your readers are going to feast on,” Basil said.

  “Thanks, but I have a car service,” I said. “And I’ll wait with my readers on that look.”

  “Oh, you’re big-time. I guess they don’t call the magazine Bling Bling for nothing. When you take a look at my pictures, you’ll wish you’d taken me up on my offer,” Basil said, smiling and licking his beautiful full lips.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m going to have to let you out. I need to go over a few things,” I said.

  “You want me to wait for you?”

  “Thanks, but I do have something I need to do. It was nice meeting you, and I’ll look forward to your call so we can set up your photo shoot,” I said as I extended my hand toward Basil.

  He took my hand and looked at my ring finger and said, “No wedding ring. That’s what’s up.” He then very gently kissed my hand, nodded, opened the door, and vanished.

  * * *

  From Bling Bling Confidential

  Davis often offered Zola unsolicited advice when it came to her life. He onc
e told Zola she should get on as many charity boards as possible, with the exception of the ones Veronica was already on. When Zola told him how she served as principal for a day in one of Harlem’s elementary schools and gave generously to the NAACP and United Negro College Fund, Davis told her no one of importance would notice.

  * * *

  22

  __________________

  When I walked into my apartment, the phone was ringing. It was Basil saying he needed to stop by and talk with me, so I told him to give me thirty minutes so that I could take a shower, and he agreed.

  I finished my tension-relieving shower and decided to give Kirby a call. I wanted to tell him I had met Sebastian and let him know what a knucklehead I was beginning to think Sebastian was.

  I dialed Kirby’s number and he picked up the phone and said, “’Sup, big brotha.”

  “How’s it going, Kirby?”

  “Little tired from practice, and I promised this honey I would take her for something to eat. Man, you got to wine and dine these San Diego ladies before they ready to roll,” Kirby said.

  I ignored Kirby’s last statement and said, “I met Sebastian.”

  “You did. He’s a cool dude,” Kirby said.

  “If you say so. This evening I had set up a meeting to introduce him to Basil. They seemed to hit it off,” I said.

  “Thanks, Ray. Good looking out. I appreciate you doing this. Is Basil going to help him get a gig?”

  “I don’t know. Since they were getting along so well, I decided to leave the two of them alone,” I said. I didn’t know how to tell Kirby what happened. I didn’t want to assume that he always told his friends that his big brother was gay. Maybe he was embarrassed by it.

  “Are you all right?” Kirby asked.

  “I’m cool. I’m a little concerned that Sebastian uses the word faggot with ease,” I said.

  “Dude, tell me he didn’t come out of the box like that. I mean, he’s my boy and all, but if he did that, then I’m going to be on a plane and jack a niggah up,” Kirby said.

  I started laughing at the thought of Kirby flying all the way to New York to defend my honor and said, “Naw, he wasn’t crazy enough to do that. I just wondered if you had told him about me and whether it would make a difference. We’ve talked about him training me, and I don’t want to be in a situation where I’ve got to watch what I say and talk about women, using terms like bitch and whore just to seem cool around some youngblood. You know I don’t roll like that.”