These Are My Confessions

by Robinson, Cheryl; Smith, Meta; King, Joy; Parks, Electa Rome

  What else? I guess you could say I’m a loner. I don’t have very many friends, male or female. That’s fine with me. I’ve halfway attempted to be friends with women at work, but in the end, there are always too many jealousies, insecurities, and backstabbing going on for me. Mother said I shouldn’t stress or worry about it. She claims these women are jealous of my good looks. I don’t know, I think I have average looks. I’m about five-seven. Very fair skinned, long, naturally wavy brownish-red hair, hazel eyes, and a slim frame. Strangers are always saying I could easily be a model with my long legs, slim waist, and exotic looks.

  Anyhow, whatever the reason, I choose to go to work, perform my job duties, and leave. My coworkers assume I’m a snob since I won’t get involved in their gossip, after-work activities, and petty ways. Until a year ago, most weekends found me at home curled up with a good book. Occasionally, Taylor, a college friend, would convince me to hit a local night spot. I’d tag along, to please her, even though the club scene wasn’t really me. Clubbing wasn’t my thing. Typically, I’d sit in a corner for most of the night, nurse one drink and turn down dances left and right. Taylor, on the other hand, lived on the dance floor and loved the attention men showered her with.

  I’ve never been good with men either. I can count on one hand the number of boyfriends I’ve had. I’ve never had problems attracting men, only attracting the right ones. I honestly think I have an invisible sign posted on my forehead that reads: Use and Abuse Me. Please. The wrong ones flock to me like bees to honey.

  After I met Drake, I thought all that had changed. Was all in my past. I felt like I had won the lottery and I had the chance for love, marriage, and a family. How wrong I was. Love is so blind, it feels right even when it’s wrong.

  Life After the Incident…

  Gloomy and bleak, just like me, most of Monday morning found me answering and returning client calls, researching existing problems, and completing follow-up items. This was my first week back at work—after my incident. I had made it halfway down my “to do” list when the phone rang again.

  “Hello, Kennedy Logan speaking.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Save it, save it. Sweetie, what’s going on? You got a minute? I’m seriously stressing on my end. What are you doing?”

  It was Taylor. As usual, she was talking a mile a minute, showed no signs of stalling, and I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

  “Working,” I replied sarcastically.

  “I’m so glad you’re back at work, because your mother wouldn’t let me within one hundred feet of you. I think she set up guard duty next to your phone. I get the impression she thinks I’m a bad influence on you or something.”

  “Taylor, be for real. You know Mother loves you like a second daughter. She’s always asking about you and how you’re doing.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have known it the way she has treated me the last couple of weeks. Every time I called, you were always busy or resting, according to her. I didn’t feel the love. Not at all.”

  “Taylor, you know how Mother is, and I didn’t know she was screening my calls. I thought I hadn’t heard from you because you were out of town on business.”

  “Well, now you know. Plus, when has being out of town ever stopped me from calling you?”

  “True. Well, I apologize.”

  “Plus, I’m so mad at you. I had to go to the club by myself that night you promised you’d hang out.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve had so much on my mind that I completely forgot all about that,” I lied.

  “I know you forgot. Of course, when I called to remind you, your mother wouldn’t put me through. Said you were resting and still not feeling well.”

  “Did she?”

  “Yes, K.”

  “Ump.”

  “Kennedy, what’s going on? For real.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean just what I asked, what’s really going on? Why did you stay out from work this long? A month? And why had Mrs. Logan moved in with you and was acting like your personal bodyguard? Who or what does she have to protect you from?”

  “Taylor, I’ve already told you what happened. Mother was nursing me back from the flu. Even now, my body hasn’t fully recovered. I’m always tired and I’ve lost weight. Mother’s back at her house now.” I wondered silently, how did you inform your best friend that you almost overdosed on prescription pills because of a man? And Mother found me.

  “Kennedy, come on now. This is me you’re talking to. I’ve known you for a minute. I know how you act when you try to lie.”

  Silence.

  “You are not very good at it.”

  To calm down, I breathed deeply through my nose. “Taylor, I don’t feel like talking about this right now. Okay?” I felt a headache coming on.

  “Knowing what a private person you are, I’m going to respect your request, but soon you gotta let me know what’s really going on.”

  “Yeah, soon.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” Taylor quirked with determination in her voice.

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  “Whatever, my ass. I am. I’m always in your corner and don’t you forget that.”

  “I know.”

  “Anyway, I’m supposed to be on a self-imposed twenty minute break. My coworkers have gotten on my last nerve; everybody is tripping, so I had to take a breather. I’m gonna have to go, but I have to know one thing,” Taylor said in a near whisper.

  “What?”

  “Have you seen him yet?”

  “Seen who?”

  “K, what is wrong with you today? Who do you think? Drake.”

  “You know we broke up. I wish you’d stop worrying about me and Drake with your nosy self. No, I haven’t seen him, and I’m not looking for him either.”

  “I’m not nosy!”

  “Yes, you are. You are the nosiest person I know besides Mother.”

  “Well, I’m in good company,” she laughed.

  “Whatever.”

  “K, you’ll have to see him sooner or later. For God’s sake, you work for the same company. I still can’t believe, you of all people, got caught up in an office romance.”

  “That’s right. Pour more salt on my wounds.”

  “I’m sorry, but you’re usually so practical about everything. This office romance was so uncharacteristic of you.”

  “I guess Drake was very persuasive.”

  “Just don’t let him sweet-talk you, change your mind, and draw you back into his life and his bed. His dick is not gold.”

  “I won’t, Mother. Now stop bugging me,” I laughed, but the laugher never reached my eyes.

  “Kennedy, I know you, and you didn’t stop loving that man overnight. You don’t give your love away frivolously. You’re vulnerable right now and Drake knows that. So, be weary of that slimy snake in the grass.”

  “Okay, I will. I promise. Now, enough.”

  “Drake doesn’t deserve you.”

  “That’s what you and Mother keep telling me,” I cited, playing with the phone cord, wrapping it around my thin fingers.

  “Well, it’s true. You’re too good for him. Always was.”

  Deadly silence.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I have to run; we have our weekly meeting in a few minutes. I’ll talk to you later. Maybe we can do lunch one day this week and play catch-up.”

  “Cool. Let me know,” I answered as we said our good-byes and hung up the phone. My mind was reeling back to what Taylor had said, the exact same thing Drake had stated in what seemed like eons ago. I would have to see him sooner or later. Hopefully, it would be later, much later. Like when hell froze over.

  First Encounter…

  Dear Journal,

  The first time I laid eyes on Drake was a year, two months, and a day ago. I can break it down to the hours, minutes, even seconds if you asked me to because I recall it just like it was yesterday. If only I had known or sensed in som
e way that he’d be trouble. Trouble with a capital T. It’s true, if it’s too good to be true, then it probably is. All that glitters isn’t gold. Drake was more like fool’s gold.

  I was hand delivering business reports and correspondence, up on the sixth floor, to one of the managers, Bill Walker. Mr. Walker managed some of the top tier clients that I serviced. We were engaged in the usual, cordial, how’s the weather chitchat in his spacious office. Not much of anything was really being said. Just polite conversation. Then Mr. Walker asked me the question that changed my entire life–for the worse.

  “Kennedy, have you met our new manager, Drake Collins? He came to us by way of California roughly two weeks ago.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Well, come and let me introduce the two of you. You’ll probably work with him periodically on accounts and assist in getting him up to speed.”

  We walked out of Mr. Walker’s corner office and strolled four doors over. I envied management. They all had large, stately offices that had floor-to-ceiling windows and were privileged to a spectacular view of Atlanta and could see as far away as Stone Mountain. Me, I had a tiny cubicle that didn’t have a door I could conveniently close for privacy, and I definitely didn’t have a view of the city. My view was the grayish walls of my cubbyhole.

  With my degree in business administration, I could be in management within a few years, but I didn’t have the desire to work my way up the ladder. Sometimes I felt that corporate America was not for me. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Whenever I complained to Mother, she encouraged me to go back to school for my MBA. Sometimes I thought it was a good idea, but other times I wasn’t feeling like another two or more years of professors, studying, and exams. With a full-time job, when would I have the time or energy?

  As we walked into Mr. Collins’s office, sitting with his back to us and talking on the phone was an African-American male who I hadn’t seen before. He signaled with his finger that he’d be just a moment. We patiently waited for him to end his phone call, and I quickly checked out his office space with curiosity. Everything was neat, in place, and very efficient-looking. There weren’t a lot of personal items such as photos or anything of that nature. So I wasn’t sure if he was married or had any children. This new manager had a few colorful framed prints and affirmations on his wall and credenza. I still hadn’t gotten a good look at this Mr. Collins yet. I was secretly thinking about all the work piled up on my desk.

  Finally, he turned around and stood up to address us and I stumbled head first into his soulful eyes. Standing before me was the absolute most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my entire life. My breath caught in my throat. He was almost flawless; almost too perfect. Drake was the perfect specimen of a strong, black man, on the outside anyway. The only imperfection I saw was a small scar, barely noticeable, right below his perfect bottom lip. I wanted to reach out, touch his cheek and see if he was real because the man standing before me had to be an illusion.

  With close-cropped, slightly wavy hair, light brown eyes with specks of green, a thin mustache, and smooth dark brown skin, he was a god. And to top it all off, he had a beautiful smile to match his six feet, two inch frame. Even through his business jacket, I could make out the six-pack that was beneath his blue dress shirt. It was obvious he worked out at a gym because he was too tight. I figured he was around thirty, no older than thirty-three. Yes, this was all man because just his presence was affecting me.

  I was truly shocked I hadn’t heard the women on my floor talking, gossiping, and placing claims on this manly specimen. You couldn’t miss Drake. When he walked in a room, he was the kind of man who made you pause in whatever you were doing and just drool. He commanded attention. I had simply blocked out my coworkers’ comments regarding him, or maybe they didn’t bother to inform me about him. I know they didn’t consider me competition, not because of my looks, but because they knew I didn’t date on the job.

  I didn’t believe in office romances. I had witnessed what messing with the boss could do for you—give you your walking papers when the relationship went south, or just an internal black ball followed you out the door. The termination of office affairs had ended some promising careers at my company.

  “Kennedy, Kennedy?” Mr. Walker repeated, giving me an odd look with a slight smile on his pale face. Mr. Walker was forever in need of a few hours of sun, but he was pretty decent. He always treated me with respect and valued my opinion regarding clients. Recently, he personally called and asked me why I hadn’t interviewed for one of the management positions that was open. Internal associates always received first priority over external candidates. Mr. Walker thought I was a perfect candidate to interview for the position.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. “I spaced out for a moment. I guess I was thinking about the workload waiting on my desk downstairs.”

  “Well, yes. You guys have been swamped with a high volume of calls lately, since we installed the new software. Don’t worry, Drake and I won’t keep you long.”

  Drake and I awkwardly stared at each other. I longed to hear what his voice would sound like directed toward me. I thought it would be rich, deep and sexy. Suddenly, images of him whispering sweet nothings in my ear clouded my brain. What was going on?

  “As I was saying, Kennedy, I’d like for you to meet Drake Collins. Drake, this is Kennedy Logan. She’s one of our best customer service representatives. Kennedy has helped me out on numerous occasions and has an excellent rapport with many of our top tier clients. She’s a great asset to the company.”

  As I tried unsuccessfully to stop the huge blush that had assaulted my face, I held out my slightly shaky right hand. I was pretty light-skinned, so I knew that Drake and Mr. Walker noticed the redness that flushed my cheeks, neck and face.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Collins. Welcome aboard.”

  “Same here, nice to meet you too,” he stated as his huge hand swallowed mine. I couldn’t help but notice the contrast of our skin tones as they meshed in a handshake. I observed that Drake had perfectly manicured nails. And his hands were smooth and soft to the touch. I knew then that this man took care of himself and hadn’t done any hard labor a day in his life. He had been pampered and catered to.

  Even though we were in a professional setting, I saw Drake quickly take me in from head to toe. Starting at my feet, he swiftly admired my long legs, paused at my hips, made his way up to my chest, and finally took in my glowing face. All in a matter of seconds. When I went out with Taylor, this was the same look that I typically received from the men in the clubs. In the clubs, it turned me off because I always felt like I was being sized up like a piece of raw meat by the hungry lions. For some reason, with Drake, my heart gave a quick flutter. This completely caught me off guard.

  “Kennedy. What a lovely name.” My name just flowed off his tongue like a fine wine poured into expensive crystal glassware.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you originally from Atlanta, Kennedy?”

  “Yes, born and raised here. A Georgia peach.”

  “I can’t believe it. I’m finding it’s rare to find a true Atlanta native. Everyone here seems to be a transplant from New York, Florida, or someplace up North.”

  “Well, you’ve found me.”

  “Indeed I did.”

  He smiled.

  I smiled.

  “Maybe you can suggest some good restaurants for lunch and dinner, for that matter. I just relocated here from Los Angeles, and I’m still learning my way around and finding the hot spots in the city.”

  “I’m afraid I’m the wrong one to ask. I usually eat lunch at my desk, I’m a diehard brown bagger,” I explained, Drake’s eyes never left mine. I could get lost in them. Drown. When the sunlight from his open window blinds hit them just right, the specks of green in his eyes danced around in merry circles.

  When we heard Mr. Walker politely clear his throat, we came back to reality. As I br
ushed my wild hair out of my face, I quickly blushed again and looked down at the floor. Suddenly, I wished I had worn my nice black Donna Karan suit and put on some makeup. Plus, I was in dire need of a manicure. I quickly balled my fingers into tight fists at my sides and hoped he hadn’t noticed.

  “Well, Miss Kennedy…it is Miss, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” I wanted to scream out, Yes, I’m single. Single and available. It had been a while since I’d been in a long-term relationship. Any relationship.

  ”It’s a pleasure to meet you, and I may have to call you so you can explain some of these reports you guys generate in your department. And if Bill recommended you, then you must be great,” he said, holding my hand again—a bit too long. I shuddered. Felt a moistness that surprised me.

  “Nice meeting you too. And sure, I’ll be glad to explain the client reports. They can be a bit confusing to someone not used to reviewing them. Just give me a call. I’m in the directory, extension 3–5123.”

  “I may certainly do that,” he said, finally releasing his hand and eyes from mine. My heart stopped fluttering then, slowly returned to near normal.

  As Mr. Walker and I walked out, I felt Drake’s eyes as they seductively caressed my butt. When I discreetly glanced back, our eyes meshed, I was lost, and he smiled. I offered a weak one in return and kept walking, faster. Somebody was a lucky woman because I knew that man had a woman. And if she was smart, she was a woman who kept a close eye on him. Drake could almost make a woman go back on her promise to never date someone she worked with. As Taylor would say, “Don’t shit where you eat.”