Politics. Escorts. Blackmail.

by Pynk

  “I do. But I can please you all by myself. I don’t need any damn help.”

  She explained, “I’m saying let’s spice it up. Not you and him touching. Both of you pleasing me.” She looked excited by the thought. “I’ll bet I can take it.”

  “I bet you can.” He looked sure.

  “He is black, but he’s not as big as you.” She offered a smile like she felt she needed to stroke his ego.

  His expression stayed firm. “Beryl, please. I really don’t wanna hear about Ryan’s penis, black or white. Conversation ended.” He headed toward the hallway. “I’ll be right back. You want something to drink?”

  “I’ll have a sip of whatever you have.”

  He turned back, giving her a look. “Okay. While I’m gone, you get that freaky shit out of your head.”

  “Please. Most men are a drink away from it.” She rubbed her eyes and adjusted the pillow under her head.

  Kemba yelled back, “Well, this man is the exception to your silly-ass rule. Guaranteed.”

  Something in him wanted to agree to her threesome suggestion, but he was more worried about what she’d think if he went for it. That maybe he really was okay with two dicks in the room. That he liked men. So he said no. But in his head he remained curious.

  Former governor Robert Sally criticized the president’s budget in a campaign rally, knocking him for what he calls ignoring entitlement programs. Darrell Ellington agreed, calling the president’s budget a gloomy reflection of his failed policies of the past.

  Nineteen

  Virgil

  Thursday—November 10, 2011

  CNN’s Political Ticker reported:

  Team Darrell Ellington continued to take on rival Kalin Graves over his fiscal record while serving in the Senate. Ellington’s campaign is scheduled to hold a press conference on Thursday and issue a barrage of campaign statements criticizing Graves, the mayor of Philadelphia, for his past support of earmarks and “reckless spending.” Republican candidate Ellington’s popularity continues to soar, some say because of his conservative views on popular yet crucial topics like gay marriage and welfare reform.

  Virgil looked disappointed as he sat in the family room of their home, watching his stepfather on television. “Ha! What about his views on prostitution? I’d love it if someone would put a microphone in his face and ask him to address that topic. Hypocritical ass.” He’d had an afternoon business meeting at the Google offices, then came home early to continue more research and development on the business side of his own anti-hacking venture.

  Virgil switched channels but kept finding more political buzz about the presidential campaign. On nearly every channel he saw his stepfather, and most times his mom, Ursula, was by Darrell’s side. He also saw a video of his stepfather’s biggest opponent, Philadelphia mayor Kalin Graves, in a black suit with a red tie, and his lovely wife, Sasha Graves, in a red suit with pearls. They were both offering continuous Colgate smiles, looking conservative and energetic. And they had a beautiful biracial teenage daughter by their side dressed in pink. The media often addressed the fact that silver-haired Kalin Graves was white and his sophisticated wife was black, making mention of how it was a first in political history to have an interracial couple as candidate and wife. Virgil still wondered if the rumors that Kalin Graves was really a racist were true. But his gut told him that he knew enough, just knowing he patronized Lip Service. He decided to let it all go. For the time being.

  Knowing the reality of both Kalin Graves’s and his stepfather’s infidelities turned his stomach. He wondered how both could be so careless. But still and all, his mother continued to be the priority. The absence of Midori had been more and more noticeable. It had been four months. She was very quiet. He did leave messages and sent a few e-mails, but no reply. He knew she was angry, but in his heart, with all that was going on, her absence was missed. In spite of it all, no matter what, she was someone he could talk to. And he needed to talk about everything right now, from the realities of his stepfather’s infidelities, to the possibility of him having to move, to the excitement of his new business venture, to his feelings about what he and Midori had been through. The fact that he got so close to someone who could also be part of the demise of his family, and the demise of the business she worked for, had him conflicted.

  With the house extra-quiet and the squeaky-clean expectations of the political life feeling like the enemy, he gave in and placed another call.

  This time he got a “Hello.” But Midori did not sound welcoming.

  “Hi there. How are you?” Virgil sounded both surprised and elated that she answered.

  “Fine.”

  “Where’ve you been? I called you a few times. Left messages.”

  She sounded edgy. “I was out of town a couple of times. But, honestly, I really don’t know why it matters. Even if I was in town, I wouldn’t have called you back, Virgil.”

  “Be nice.”

  She interjected, “Oh, be nice? You weren’t being very nice when you cussed me out and stormed out of here.”

  “You’re right. Just wanna be nice now.”

  “So, you wanna be friends? After all that, is that what you’re saying?”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “It was apparently all wrong for you to even be associated with me. I’m surprised you’re risking the possibility of living in the White House by calling me. Besides, considering that you record people by using your little spy gadgets, why would I even want to talk to you?”

  He wondered himself, saying, “I understand. I’d just hoped you would.”

  She said, sounding cautious, “You’re not recording this call, are you?”

  “I’m not.”

  She had much attitude. “Whatever, Virgil. I’ll never trust you again.”

  He decided to say what he really thought. “I could be saying that, too. You lied to me yet you’ll never trust me? Ms. Real Estate Agent.”

  “Oh please. Virgil, what do you want?”

  “I don’t know. I was just sitting here. My stepfather’s face and name are everywhere I look. Things are getting crazy. Plus, my mother and I talked about me moving out. I’m thinking about it. I just needed to talk to you, that’s all. I miss us.”

  All she said was, “Oh really? So they’re mad at you? What’d you do to them? Spy on them, too?” Her sarcasm was clear.

  He wasn’t surprised. “No.”

  “And she doesn’t know about him?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll bet she does.”

  “Believe me, she doesn’t.” He aimed the conversation in another direction. “But what I called for was just to say that I miss you. It’s been a while. And I was wondering if we could see each other, you know, have a cup of coffee or something.”

  “Why?”

  “Like I said, I miss you. Still can’t believe how things went down. It’s like something’s missing, though. And seeing you would be good, you know?”

  “Oh really?”

  “Really.”

  She actually asked, “When, Virgil?”

  He smiled so big that it could be heard in his reply. “Oh, I was thinking, today maybe. I’m gonna meet my real estate agent in SoHo this afternoon. Gonna look at some properties. Wondered if you could go with me.”

  She replied without hesitation. “To look at places? No thanks.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, I just can’t. I have an appointment.”

  “Where?”

  “Gramercy,” she replied dryly.

  “Good, then you can meet me.”

  “I can’t go with you. I don’t wanna do things like that. It just seems too couple-ish. I’m still coming to terms with everything. My whole life. Losing you. Lying to you. You recording me. It’s too soon to be friends.”

  “Okay.” He knew he deserved it, but he stayed insistent. “Well, maybe we can just meet for a minute. Maybe at the spot we went to the first day we went out. Little Cupcake Bakes
hop on Prince Street.”

  “You want to meet for cupcakes?”

  “I do. What time can you be there?”

  She was quiet.

  “Please.” He wished for her heart to soften.

  “I don’t know about you.” She thought for a minute. “Maybe 2:00. Just for a second. Then I have to leave.”

  He pumped his fist into the air. “Good. I’m meeting my Realtor at 3:30. Perfect.”

  Midori sounded anything but thrilled. “See you there.”

  “Bye.”

  Midori wore her white linen dress, cropped leather jacket, and red heels while at the quaint bakery in trendy SoHo. She sat inside at the tiny round table for two. She was halfway through a cup of banana pudding, with a cup of strong black coffee to wash it down.

  Virgil walked up and pulled out the other chair, in his gray pants and white shirt. He even wore a pocket protector with three pens inside. “I see you got a jump on it, huh, gorgeous?”

  She said, after sipping her coffee, “I can’t come here and pass this up. It’s sinful.” She looked at him as he sat down and leaned back.

  He saw a small box. “I see you got some to go.”

  “The lemon and strawberry ones.” She watched him carefully.

  “Oh, okay.” He stared at her, admiring her face.

  She looked him up and down with caution, like she was reluctant to engage.

  “What? You want to check my pockets? All I have is my cell and my wallet.”

  “No.” She looked away and then asked, “So, you’re not getting anything?”

  “No.”

  She looked him up and down again. “Why come here and not order anything?”

  “I didn’t come here for cupcakes.”

  “So, you lied…again.” She gave a frown.

  “I deserve that. Bring it on.”

  “Are you on some guilt trip, Virgil?”

  “Not even.”

  “You sure? Not sorry that you acted like an ass when you broke up with me?”

  He asked, “Are you on a guilt trip for lying to me?”

  “Not even. I’m just saying, with you being a man, I’d think you’d be hanging out, dating, going hog wild, hitting everything that walks by. You’re free to do whatever you want to do.”

  “I want to be right here.”

  “Yeah, right. You’ve probably been out with someone.”

  “I haven’t. You?”

  “Me? Who’d want me? I’m a hooker, remember?” She sipped her coffee and smiled.

  “So you went out of town for work?”

  “Yes. Real estate.”

  He cleared his throat instead of laughing. “Did you like him?”

  “Honestly, yes, I did. But why are you all up in my business?”

  He leaned forward. “Just asking. Wondering if maybe we can talk every now and then. Be honest with each other. Be up front. Be real. No judgment. Especially now that we’ve got all of the crap out of the way.”

  She took a small bit of the pudding and spoke while eating. “Hard not to judge my life. Don’t be so sure you’ve got my crap out of the way. And I won’t be so sure I know about all of yours.” She licked the spoon.

  “My life is nothing to be proud of. I’ve got problems like everyone else.”

  “Oh, please. You’ve got it made. You’re about to be the son of the next president of the United States. What’s so bad about that?”

  “Let’s just say, I didn’t live the type of life people would think. My birth dad treated me like crap. He cheated on my mom one time too many and then he died. After that she met my stepfather. It took me a minute, but I convinced myself that he treated her good. Though now that I know about his indiscretions, I can see more clearly. It’s some bullshit. But hey, whose life doesn’t have some shit going on?”

  She eyed him down. “You really are a mama’s boy, aren’t you?”

  “If she’s happy, I’m happy.”

  “Virgil, she’s your mom, not your woman.”

  His expression didn’t change. He didn’t even look offended. “I know that.”

  “Maybe it is a good idea that you’re looking for your own place. Maybe you need to cut that cord. Be independent. Be on your own.”

  “I agree. Start my own family one day. There’s nothing like family. Like blood.”

  “Humph. Sometimes, some make the cut and some don’t.”

  “I get it.” He smiled. “Talking to you reminds me. One thing we had going for us was that we could always talk. After all these months of not speaking, I want you to know, I hope we can still at least talk to each other.”

  She looked serious. “I trusted you.”

  “And I trusted you.”

  She said, holding her coffee in her hand, “We broke that.”

  “Yes, we did.” He leaned his elbows on the table and said, “Listen, my Realtor asked me to come over to Brooklyn, to the Williamsburg area. I’m thinking about that area because I realized some of the listings he e-mailed me here in SoHo are too expensive. Like over two million. I’m paying cash but want to spend half that, or less.”

  “Half of that? Cash?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She looked surprised and impressed. “Excuse me. I didn’t know you had it like that. Didn’t know Google paid their engineering directors that kinda money.”

  He told her. “They don’t. I have a little money saved up. So, anyway, there are a couple of condos. One is seven hundred thousand in an area that’s like a mini SoHo, and one is over nine hundred thousand. I think it’s a two-bedroom waterfront condo, view of the skyline beyond the East River. I’m pretty sure it has panoramic views. I want you to go with me. Please. Just help me decide.”

  She replied, setting her coffee mug down. “Virgil, I think the East River condo sounds nice. But I can’t come with you. I have that appointment near Gramercy soon. I’m sorry.” She sounded like she was trying to let him down easy. “The waterfront would be great, though. It sounds beautiful. You’ll make the right decision.” She then pushed her chair away, stood, and took hold of her purse and to-go box.

  He stood. “Okay. Well, thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna run. It was good seeing you. If you need any real estate tips, let me know.”

  He laughed. “I’ll do that,” he said, as she stepped away. “I missed you.”

  She turned and waved, saying only, “Good-bye. Good luck.”

  And just like that, she was gone.

  Senator Darrell Ellington emerges as the winner of yesterday’s debate. Hot topics included immigration, health care, and the economy.

  Twenty

  Virgil

  Thursday—November 10, 2011

  Virgil had only been in the taxi five minutes heading to meet his Realtor in Williamsburg when he got a text from Midori:

  My appointment canceled. Please stop by my place when you’re done. I’ll be waiting.

  “Hot damn,” he said aloud in the backseat. The fast-driving taxi driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Virgil kept looking down at his phone and typed, I’ll be there. Thank u.

  It was close to six in the evening when Virgil and Midori sat on the sectional in the living room of her Upper East Side apartment, the same room where he broke it off months earlier after finding out what she really did for living.

  She sat on one end wearing leggings and a black tee. He sat on the other end, still in his dress pants and dress shirt.

  She was the one who asked, “So, what is it? What’s up with us?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I don’t know. I want to be with someone who accepts me, that’s all. Not someone who holds my life against me like I’m some jezebel.”

  “I can understand that.”

  Her legs were crossed. “Could you ever get past the fact that I’ve slept with so many men? I mean, keep it real.”

  “I don’t know.”

  She leaned forward and used her hands as she
spoke. “Okay. Could you accept me if your stepdad ends up winning the election in November? The president’s son dating the escort. That’s tabloid material. You say you don’t want to hurt your mom. That would hurt her. I don’t want to be some woman you hide out because you have to keep it a secret. I think you made a decision to not be with me, and hurt me rather than hurt her.”

  He looked calm. “Being with you has nothing to do with her. You lied to me. Like we said, we have trust issues.”

  “Virgil, we have moral issues. We have salacious issues of secrets and escorts. We have issues of politics and infidelity.”

  He leaned forward, too. “I’m talking about no one other than the two of us in this room. If we tried again, honestly, I wouldn’t want you to keep doing what you’re doing. I’d want you to stop. I need to make a decision about you without basing it on them. Their lives are their lives. They make choices they have to live with, just like I do.”

  She shook her head. “That sounds great, but it’s not realistic. I know how you feel about your mom.”

  “What’s real is that I don’t want to live this life alone. I’ve got a good job, I’m continuing my education, and I want a family.”

  She asked, “Is it okay for me to want the same? I dream of that, too, you know?”

  “Okay. Let’s work toward that. Let’s try and see where things go.”

  She looked uncertain, leaning back against the cushions. “Virgil, I can’t commit to that. I’m still doing what I’m doing and that won’t fit. Not right now anyway.”

  “Then when? Do you see yourself ever stopping?”

  “I do.” She looked down at her lap.

  “Then there’s no time better than now.”

  “I can’t. Not just yet. Just a little time.”

  “You’re saying you need just a little more money in your pocket?”

  “Maybe a year’s worth, maybe less.”

  He asked, “So, it’s about your bank balance? You’re letting money determine when your heart can be fulfilled?”