Would I Lie to You?

by Trisha R. Thomas

  “Here it is.” Jake opened the door of the restaurant for everyone, then slid in behind Venus. Once the restaurant door shut behind them, the daylight was closed out completely like a lid-covered box.

  She could feel Jake behind her in the darkness of the entrance. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Before that she was following the muted sound of dining, plates connecting to forks, voices in light conversation.

  “How’s this?” The hostess stood to the side for the four of them to examine.

  “Perfect, thank you.” Jake pulled the chair out for Venus and sat down next to her. Legend and William took two seats directly across.

  Jake Parson had been a household name, a rap artist who’d made a million from one silly little song. Then turned his attention and his bankroll to clothing and made another million and then another. She’d found as much information on him as possible before their meeting. He was one of the few entertainers she knew who had actually graduated from college. After reading his impressive dossier, she’d still written him off as a hip-hop accident, falling into good luck and fortune.

  Though she must admit, she was impressed with his restaurant selection. Restaurant choice said a lot about someone’s personality. This one was subtle, quiet, but still humming with a vital energy. She could see him in her peripheral vision. Confident. Appealing. Stop that, she told herself. Watching the moves of a man she’d just met (she checked his left hand that held up the menu), an unmarried man, was not smart. Neither smart nor considerate. She prided herself on being both. She’d made plenty of mistakes in her lifetime, with men mostly the source. She was at the pinnacle of her professional career and love life, so why did she feel the heat of Jake Parson’s shoulder every time he bumped her slightly? Answer.

  Lonely. Here in big old Los Angeles without her baby, her kissy face, her sweetness. Nothing more to it than that. She missed Airic. This new person was merely an image, a mirage. No one could make her laugh the way Airic did. No one could sing the words of “One in a Million” by Larry Graham in its entirety, hitting the long notes and all. No one could give a good horseyback ride like Airic, twirling her around until she was dizzy, then dropping her onto the bed, and diving in shortly after. She bit her lip. Plain old-fashioned horny.

  “What do you say, Venus?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Vitro Cabernet? A red wine, not too dry.” Jake was leaning into her face as if she were hard of hearing.

  “Perfect. I’m sorry.”

  “Where’d you go?” He searched her eyes.

  “Probably back to work. All work and no play, that’s the motto, right, Ms. Johnston?” Legend pulled the knot free that was housing his locks. “Try to relax. Chadnum doesn’t have a wire on you, does he?” He loosened his tie with one finger.

  Venus was about to lash out at Legend before being trumped by Jake.

  “Work is going to get the job done. I have no problem with playtime, fellas, but when it comes time to roll up the sleeves, I expect nothing less than what you’d give Mr. Smith, or Mr. Tom. You know what I’m saying?” It was a professional tone she hadn’t heard until now.

  “Always.” William spoke up, putting his hand out for a soul shake, then a knuckle butt.

  Venus crossed her legs under the table. That did it. She’d wait it out. The warm rush. She would not be taken over by such a small gesture. Speaking up for her, taking a stand in her defense. She was too old to fall for chivalry. She worked hard to suppress the acknowledgment but it came out anyway; “Thank you,” she breathed out in a whisper, then put her face back into her menu.

  “Anytime.” Jake stroked his goatee.

  “Let’s order.” Legend’s tone took on an edge. That alone was enough to make her smile.

  She was used to Legend’s and William’s sarcasm, but growing weary by the moment. No one understood their frustration more than Venus. She’d experienced her share of working for people she considered less qualified. After ten years of climbing and groveling, she was finally where she wanted to be, deserved to be—director of multicultural marketing, in charge of helping the big companies connect with their brown brothers and sisters without offensive toe-tapping Bo Jangle ads. She wore the title like a badge of authority and honor. Although Robert Chadnum was an African American himself, he surrounded himself with a staff of the majority consensus, white males. Venus was one of the few female managers, not to mention the even fewer black women, at the corporate headquarters in Washington, D.C. After two years, she still walked into her own office and stood in awe of the sweeping view of the Potomac River, the beautiful teak wood desk and furnishings. The art that she’d picked out herself. Romare Bearden collections full of vibrant yellow and blue hues. She had an expense account that allowed her to take clients skiing in Vail or sailing down the coast instead of to a simple lunch or dinner. She’d done her time and was now enjoying the perks of her servitude.

  That’s how she’d ended up in Los Angeles, going the extra mile, doing what was expected, and exceeding those expectations. But what had it gotten her? A one-way trip to Lonely Town, USA. Los Angeles was filled with people. Five million at last count, and there was still something so isolating about being here. Everyone drove around with their faces forward, blind to what didn’t involve them. Seeing only their immediate connection. The various cultures, black, white, Asian, Middle Eastern, all sectioned off like miniature countries on one land. You had to find a clique, a group, a club, or something, or simply fall into the shadows. She looked up and watched the interaction between the three men, their Adam’s apples rising and falling, and realized she wasn’t going to be a part of this club either.

  “Are you ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” The waitress stood over them with her white shirt buttoned to the neck and her black apron snug around her conservative-fitting black pants and still managed to look charming. Venus guessed, student. The ones who wanted to be actresses usually worked closer to the west side, Century City, Santa Monica.

  After her first glass of wine, Venus excused herself to the rest room. Jake stood up, as a gentleman would, then William and Legend followed suit as if it were a game of Simon Says. In the dim lighting, she moved carefully around tables and in between seated patrons. A door pushed open and light escaped. A sharply dressed woman walked out. Before the door closed, Venus caught a glimpse of a mirror and sink and beelined it to that direction. The bathroom was lit but still required a flashlight if she wanted to touch up her makeup. She went into the stall and closed the wooden shutter door. She stood staring at the slats in the door casing, trying to remember if it was up or down, when people could see straight through to the other side.

  It didn’t matter, she didn’t really have to use the facilities. She just needed a minute to figure it all out.

  If it was only the lonely bug that had bitten her, why then did she find Legend and William so completely undesirable? They both had the looks, the style, the manliness guaranteed to get the job done. Since they had been working together she’d felt nothing, not even a twinge of possibility. Not a flash of wonder when the two men walked into her office on a bright hot July day making every other female, and a few males, track them as they passed. Nada. Zilch. Not even a flicker of fantasy. The entire office had buzzed after they left. “Who was that? Umph, girrrrrl,” was all she’d heard the rest of the day. She’d been impressed as well on first arrival, she’d heard so much about them, seen their photos in a couple of business articles, but their cockiness had reared its ugly head two minutes into the interview. Legend with his smug attitude and brass bullets of truth. The truth as he saw it. William sitting there, confident and all knowing. Nada. And yet, here was Jake Parson, a perfect stranger, triggering waves of heat in her elbow every time he accidentally nudged her to reach for the bottle of wine or the bread. The instant high when his leg widened, touching hers. Excuse me, excuse me, she should’ve said, you’re in my space. She should have, but no protest, verbal or otherwise.

/>   Venus shook her hands out. The tingly rise of anticipation. Instant attraction was normal. It happened all the time. It didn’t mean anything. The human mind was stronger than the pheromones that lurked, seeking and hunting constantly for a new mate without authorization. I didn’t order this … send it back.

  She took a long minute of meditation in front of the sink while she washed and rewashed her hands. An extra minute to strengthen her resolve before going back to the fire.

  BY the time lunch was over, so was the day. The sky was dark, filled with clouds ready to burst. It had been unusually rainy and cold in Southern California. Venus was beginning to think she’d brought the heavy clouds with her from the East Coast, following her like a bad attitude. You can run but you can’t hide from yourself. Venus stepped outside as the door was held open for her. The others filed out behind. The air was thick with car fumes and misty rain.

  “Why don’t we go back to the studio and put some of this down on paper?”

  “Sure.” Venus tightened the belt around her leather coat while she watched Legend and William stride up ahead. There was a heaviness to her step from the two glasses of wine.

  Jake Parson stayed, walking by her side. “They’re not your biggest fans, huh?”

  “What gave it away?”

  He smiled, showing a straight set of teeth and cocked his head to acknowledge the obvious.

  Venus walked with her eyes on the subjects. “I was the one who brought the two of them to Chadnum’s attention. But instead of being grateful it’s like they blame me for making them aware they’d failed. Like if it wasn’t for me, they’d still have their pride. The big entrepreneurial struggle could go on.”

  “I think you hit it. They have some pride issues … definitely wouldn’t take it personal, though. They’re good guys. They respect you.”

  “Lucky me.” Venus slowed to create more distance between the men walking ahead. “Why didn’t you just hire them to come work for you? I mean, this is obviously an inside job. They could have easily left Chadnum and come and worked for you without the middleman.”

  Jake stayed quiet.

  “What’s that look? If they’re your boys, you didn’t need me here. Right?” She stopped him, touching his arm. “Oh, God. You’re trying to say I have defective merchandise.”

  “You sure do read a lot into silence.” His lips parted into a smile. “None of the above. It was you.”

  “Me?”

  “You, Venus Johnston. I got wind of you about a year ago. I probably should have sought you out then, but I thought I could make wine out of water, gold out of dust, continue doing what I’d started and everything would take care of itself. Then I saw the nice write-up about you teaming up with Legend and William in Black Enterprise and I thought, three birds, one stone. I get the best of both worlds. I trust these guys, I know them, but they need balance.”

  “Balance, as in a mother-hen type to keep them in line?” Venus rolled her eyes to the gray sky above.

  “No. There is nothing motherly about you.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Jake threw up his hands. “I can’t win here. All I’m saying is that you guys complement each other. It may not look that way now, but I know what I’m talking about.” There was an awkward moment of silence, only the sound of their shoes against the pavement, cars passing in the wet street.

  They reached the corner of the JPWear studio and stopped for the light. Jake looked down at her where she only came to his shoulder. “We should probably call it a day. You seem beat.”

  “Yeah, beat down.” She dropped her eyes for a minute, stopping to look up at him, and noticed a dark line in the center of his throat along the edge of his turtleneck. The scar was as neatly placed as the rest of him, as if it were drawn with a felt pen. She quickly diverted her eyes, but too late, he pushed his leather collar closed around his neck.

  “I think I’ll go home and sink into a big tub of bubbles.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.” They crossed the street without Legend and William noticing they were no longer following.

  “So where’s home?”

  “An apartment on Wilshire, the 9000 block.”

  “Chadnum must pay well.”

  Venus didn’t answer, happy to let her lifestyle speak for itself. She pulled out her keys and pressed the unlock button to her leased BMW. “You’ve been a perfect gentleman. I hope some of it wears off on your boys.”

  “I’ll see that it does.” He brought his hand up for a warm shake, even softer than in the office when they’d first met. His hand swallowed hers.

  “See you Monday.” She opened the car door.

  “Why do we have to wait until Monday?”

  Venus rolled her eyes. “I think you know the answer to that question, Mr. Parson, colleague, client, sir.” She gleamed a smile while taking her hand back.

  He leaned on the open car door, grinning. “I’m all that, huh?”

  “All that.”

  “See you Monday.” Tapping lightly then closing the door for her without a fight. She figured Jake Parson had to try, page two in the player’s handbook.

  BUTTONS

  LUNCH was still heavy on her mind. Her stomach as well. She threw off her work clothes and grabbed the gray flannel shirt hanging on the chair. She put her face into it before putting it on. She loved the comfort and smell of Airic’s shirts. The worn-out buttonholes came undone as quickly as she’d buttoned them. Only one, midway down, stayed closed. She picked up the phone and carried it with her while she scooted between the cool sheets of her bed.

  For the third time she dialed Airic’s number. He wasn’t in his office or at the house that still held her blue toothbrush and favorite weekend jeans. The white terry robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was three hours later in D.C. and Airic was nowhere to be found.

  The phone rang while it lay in her hands. She answered quickly, “Hi, Honey.”

  “Hi.”

  Venus paused for a quizzical second. “You’re not Honey.”

  “No, but stranger things have happened.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Someone who asked you out earlier this evening and you turned me down.”

  “Mr. Parson, how did you get my phone number?” She sat up against the pillows.

  “That was the easy part. I’ve been contemplating this call for the last hour. I wasn’t sure if you’d be too happy about it. But then again, you called me honey.”

  “That’s because I thought you were Honey.” She couldn’t erase the smile on her face.

  “So Honey hasn’t called?”

  “He’s probably trying to call right now, but you’re tying up my line.” She picked at a tiny feather that made its way through the down comforter’s duvet.

  “I feel really bad about that. So what’s the real reason behind turning down my invitation, besides you and your honey?”

  “Isn’t that enough of a reason?”

  “No. I wouldn’t think it’s all that serious.”

  “I’m not going to do anything that’s going to jeopardize our working relationship.”

  “I just wanted to have a bite with you, talk shop.”

  “We just had a bite, and a drink. Lunch lasted nearly three hours; wasn’t that enough?”

  “Obviously not or I wouldn’t have asked for more. Didn’t want our creative streak to have a chance to die down come Monday.”

  She could already feel the tone change, his voice slowing into a soft rhythm. “I thought two days was a long time to wait since we were on a roll.”

  “Mr. Parson, I’m not stupid. I know what I know.”

  “What do you think you know?” He attempted to formalize his voice.

  “Trouble.”

  “So now my name is trouble?”

  She pictured him running a hand across the silky hairs on his face that matched his neatly cropped Afro.

  “You know what I
mean. I don’t want to play this game.” This time she pulled two of the light feathers, digging for more.

  “Really?” He took a long deep breath. “I love your smile, reminds me of sunshine, bright and beautiful.”

  “Is that the best you can do?” She coughed out a laugh. “Aren’t you the one responsible for ‘luscious lips and fat juicy hips … c’mon baby I want to ride’?” Venus smirked to herself, remembering the song that played on the radio every hour, every minute of the day.

  “Those were my younger days when I didn’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Parson. You have a good night.”

  “You too. And I hope Honey calls soon.”

  Me too, Venus thought, while hanging up the phone and kicking the hot covers off her feet. She went into the small kitchen, checking the cabinets for comfort food. She opened a can of salty Campbell’s soup but then dumped it down the drain. She watched as the soft noodles slithered into the mouth of the garbage disposal.

  The company Airic, or in this case, Honey, had built from scratch was now a mega player on the World Wide Web. He’d patented software that provided virtual private networks, allowing companies to keep their employees’ web surfing under control. Venus had put together the marketing material, a picture of a businessman sitting in front of his computer screen with glazed eyes staring at a fleshy woman on a porn site, the caption underneath, A mind is a terrible thing to waste. Protect yours. Airic poured his heart and soul into the company. But Venus never complained about feeling neglected or played as a second fiddle. She didn’t have to. She had her own career to keep her busy, one she enjoyed immensely. It was a two-way street. Numerous times she’d been unavailable to Airic. He never once complained. It was only fair that she now comply with the rules. Their relationship was based on mutual respect, mutual admiration, and a mutual love of work.

  Like every other relationship Venus had experienced, she looked to the long term. Anything good was worth working and waiting for. If it came too easy, it had no value, empty calories like the package of popcorn she had just stuck in the microwave. She stood in front of it watching the numbers count backward.