One Night: A BWWM Interracial Romance

by Camilla Stevens

  “Jake,” she said, smiling up at him. “I had a very nice time. A very nice time. I wish I had longer to say goodbye but I have to go. We’ll see each other in a few weeks in New York. Maybe we can have a repeat of last night…or this morning.”

  Instead of responding, he stuck to his M.O. and brought her in for a kiss. Like every kiss before, it stunned her into complacency. Screw it, she was going to be late for church.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  JAKE

  Jake looked out the window of the Town Car that was creeping its way along the freeway to the studio. It was the middle of the day on a Sunday and still there was traffic. He didn’t know how people here did it. He thought of Natalie and hoped she wasn’t getting in too much trouble with her family.

  He smiled as he remembered their final kiss.

  The car rolled past the front gates of the studio lot. Jake’s mind momentarily snapped out of the haze of this morning’s adventures to take in his surroundings.

  The car was approaching one of the taller buildings on the property. There was an eager, young man standing there to greet him in a suit which was probably too hot in the dry L.A. Heat.

  “Mr. Steele,” the man said, “Nice to meet you. I’m Corey, Corey Goldberg. Huge fan, by the way.”

  Jake wondered if he said that to all the writers the studio tried to butter up. He didn’t bother to correct him on the name. He was fine hiding behind his pen name for as long as possible.

  He followed the man into the building, up the elevators and eventually into a conference room that overlooked most of the lot. There were five people there, obviously hoping to play the numbers game against him.

  They did the introductions, producers, producers and screen writers. Got it. Jake took the secretary who made an appearance up on her offer of coffee; black, no sugar. He passed on the display of breakfast pastries and fruit that sat on a side board.

  “I’m glad you could take time out of your book tour to meet with us,” the suit, Leo Wright, who seemed to be the one running this meeting, said. “Normally we go through agents, but we thought since you were in town, we’d just have an informal chat to see if we can’t bring you around.”

  “I just want to make sure you’ll actually stay true to the book,” Jake said in an attempt to steer this meeting directly to the point. “Otherwise don’t bother using my name or my characters.”

  “I completely understand,” Leo said, flashing a smile that was far too bright. “Obviously we wouldn’t be discussing making the movie if we didn’t love the story. Especially this last one. We want to jump on board before some other studio picks it up.”

  Jake just nodded, sipping his coffee.

  “But as you know, not everything translates into film, particularly blockbuster films,” Leo began. Another bright smile appeared. “Which is obviously what we’re hoping for.”

  “How do you mean?” Jake said, making him work for it.

  This was the part where Leo turned to the female sitting next to him to graciously pick apart the areas where his novel didn’t “translate into blockbuster films.”

  “Well, Mr. Steele,” she began cautiously, “for example we might cut out a lot of the technical language regarding CIA operations, or maybe dramatize them a bit.”

  Jake just nodded, taking another sip of coffee. It was some damn good coffee, he noted.

  “And we’ll have to cut some scenes,” she continued. “Strictly for length, of course,” she added quickly.

  Jake nodded again. Another sip of coffee.

  “Then we have to decide on characters,” she went on, her words even more careful. “We may not be able to stay exactly true to how they are described. So, for example, where Nick is blonde, we might have to go with Tom Cruise perhaps.”

  “And Naomi?” He asked, helping her get to the point.

  She looked to Leo, some silent communication going on between them, and then back at Jake, “Well, there are only so many actresses who look like her,” she began. “I mean top billing actresses. And not all of them may be available—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there,” Jake interrupted. “I wrote Naomi the way I did because I was inspired. I’m going to continue to write her that way. I just can’t see a movie being made if she isn’t how I wrote her. I think the fans that are currently pushing the book to the top of the best sellers list might agree.”

  “Of course!” She went on, though her eyes took on a slightly panicked look. “We’re just letting you know the possible...obstacles to finding someone who looks exactly like her.”

  “Listen,” he said, interrupting her again. “Let’s not beat around the bush. You want a white Naomi, correct?”

  They each looked at each other with concern, which gave him his answer.

  “In which case, it’s a no,” he said.

  “We’re just investigating all options, Mr. Steele,” Leo quickly said.

  “Maybe you should go through my agent after all,” Jake said, rising up from his seat. “We went through this with the publishers and...well I’m assuming at least one of you read how the book turned out.

  “Be forewarned though,” he said walking to the door. “If you think I’m a hard nut to crack, you have no idea what you’re in for.”

  With that he walked out the door, down the elevator and out into the California sunshine. The meeting had been short and he had a few hours to kill before his next book signing. He thought about how to kill that time. Too bad Natalie was at church, he thought with a devilish smile.

  Maybe he’d visit that In-n-Out place. Was it Animal Fries she’d suggested?

  NATALIE

  “What in the world did you do with your hair?” Natalie’s mom asked, giving her daughter an incredulous once over.

  Natalie had arrived to find her mother, Aunt Gloria, and her grandma waiting outside withe the few stragglers who were the last to enter the large church. Her grandmother was a staunch Southern Baptist and attended church religiously, no pun intended. Somewhere down the line her mother and aunt had decided it would be nice for the four of them to get together occasionally to visit. The most natural setting was her grandma’s church.

  They limited it to once a month because, frankly the service lasted forever. Natalie knew that grandma had already been here since 8:00 attending Sunday School for the seniors group.

  Natalie had a very strong memory of being dropped off around 7:30 every Sunday at grandma and grandpa’s (when he had been alive). Her parents knew not to even bother coming back to get her before 4:00 p.m., most times just letting her have dinner with her grandparents. Natalie had a strong suspicion that it was so her parents could enjoy a Sunday kid-free, more than her spiritual development.

  “It got wet in the shower,” she said hurriedly. “I didn’t have time to dry and straighten it.”

  By now her hair was pretty dry—and a curly, frizzy, mess. Reaching up to pat the twist down, she could feel the bobby pins straining for dear life. She had checked in the rear view mirror before getting out of the car and, at best, it could be described as some sort of a messy, chic, French twist. The looks her maternal relatives were giving her let her know that they were anything but impressed.

  “And you didn’t have time to find a dress that wasn’t wrinkled?” her mom went on.

  “Leave the girl alone, Caren,” fussed her grandma. “If we don’t go in now, I know that Lucille is going to try and take my pew.”

  Her mother sighed and followed Natalie’s grandma up the steps into the church, giving her daughter one last disappointed look. Aunt Gloria also had a look for her that was far more insinuating than disappointed. She just smiled knowingly then turned to follow them inside. Natalie brought up the rear. Why did she have to run into Jake Cavanaugh this weekend of all weekends?

  As a member of the church, going on 50 years, the congregation allowed Natalie’s grandmother her own unofficial seat, 2nd row, left side. They knew that her daughters and granddaughter joined her every firs
t Sunday so they included room for them as well. The half empty pew beckoned them as the four women strolled in past the congregation that had mostly settled in.

  If Natalie felt like the Walk of Shame this morning in Jake’s hotel room, right now she felt like Lady Godiva. Her hair and wrinkled dress and god knew what else was like a neon sign telling everyone I HAD SEX LAST NIGHT! She probably already had bruises from being groped and grabbed and banged up against the wall of the show—

  She shook her head. It wouldn’t do any good recalling what had happened only hours ago. Natalie stared up at the cross behind Reverend Jackson’s head. Thank God the Baptists didn’t include the actual figure of Jesus.

  As the service wore on, Natalie, as usual, ended up letting her mind wander. Usually it wasn’t all that interesting: the past week; the upcoming week; people in the congregation; her nails; the pair of shoes she’d seen online; TV shows; books; how many more hours to go until church was over.

  Today it was singularly focused on one thing: Jake Cavanaugh. His wet body covered in nothing but a towel. The feel of his hair underneath her hands as his mouth covered her nipples. His strong chest pressed against hers. And that thing he’d done with his tongue this morning!

  Natalie inadvertently let out an audible gasp. She was sitting next to Gloria, who turned to give her a appraising look. Natalie quickly composed herself and turned to her aunt with wide-eyed innocence. This was greeted with a dubious twist of the lips. Then her aunt let it go and turned back to Reverend Jackson.

  Natalie took a surreptitious glance at the time on her watch. Ugh! The service wasn’t even half over. Maybe this Sunday would be a good time to start actually paying attention in church.

  Natalie cleared her mind and stared intently up at the reverend, hanging on to every word.

  After church they continued the tradition by having an early dinner. Natalie was patently ignoring the side glances her mother made at her dress and hair. Thankfully her mother kept her disappointed thoughts to herself.

  “So, Natalie,” Aunt Gloria said, “I hear that you’re famous now.”

  Natalie looked up at her with surprise, then turned to her mother with an accusatory glare.

  “Don’t look so shocked,” her mother said, “Of course I told your Aunt Gloria about it.”

  “It wasn’t so bad,” her aunt assured her, “fairly tame compared to some of the stuff I’ve read. Heck, it’s pretty tame compared to some of the stuff I’ve done!” she laughed.

  “You read it?” Natalie asked with disbelief.

  “Of course I read it,” she said. “I also saw his picture in the back. Not too shabby.” She winked at Natalie, causing her face to burn.

  “Gloria?!” Natalie hissed, nodding her head in the direction of her grandma.

  Natalie’s mom was shooting death stares at her sister, willing her to shut up.

  “You all don’t have to talk around me like I’m not here,” her grandma said, surprising all of them. Her Georgia roots were coloring every word as they did when she got worked up. “Everybody wants to keep grandma in the dark, talk all secretive like grandma doesn’t know what’s going on. Well let me tell you, grandma was here long before all of you and has done far more than all of you. You think grandma didn’t get her grove on back in the day? You think grandpa was the first man grandma’s been with? No. The things grandma did would make all of y’all blush. Now stop this nonsense and clue grandma in.”

  They all stared at her in shock.

  “Jesus, grandma,” Natalie whispered.

  “That doesn’t mean grandma is open to taking the good Lord’s name in vain,” she cautioned her granddaughter.

  “Sorry, grandma,” Natalie said, staring down at the table in attrition.

  One second later she, her mother, and her aunt burst out laughing.

  “Well are you all going to let me know what’s what?” she frowned at them.

  Natalie looked up in horror. Then decided that the best policy would be to control the flow of information. “I have a friend who wrote a book. One of the characters...well, he kind of based it somewhat on me.”

  Natalie gave a look to her aunt, the most obvious candidate contradict her and enlighten her grandmother on the details.

  “Mmm hmm,” her grandma said, looking at her speculatively. She was leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed in her lap, those piercing, all-seeing brown eyes waiting for more.

  “That’s it,” Natalie said.

  “His name is Jake Steele,” Gloria said to her mother. “Good looking white guy.”

  “Jake Cavanaugh, actually,” Natalie corrected.

  “Cavanaugh,” Gloria said dismissively. She turned to Natalie with a conspiratorial smile, “I heard he was in town doing a book tour and some movie thing.”

  Natalie’s jaw hardened. Usually she loved her aunt’s liberal way of viewing life and ability to hilariously poke fun at people. That was when it was turned on certain colorful members of the congregation or other family members. Now all her attention was on her niece, a niece whose face was probably glowing from embarrassment.

  “Have you had a chance to meet up with your friend?” she teased.

  Half truths were better than full lies. “I went to a book signing,” she admitted. “We...had a nice...chat.” Natalie left it at that.

  “Chat, hmm?” Gloria taunted.

  “Stop teasing the girl, Gloria,” her grandma admonished. Then she turned to Natalie and said, “Honey, you don’t have to tiptoe around your grandma’s feelings. You know I don’t have a problem with you dating a white man. And baby, you’re 29. No one here thinks this boy is just a friend. If your dress and hair are any indication, you’d better hold on tight to this one.”

  “Good Lord, mama,” sighed Natalie’s mom, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “What did I say about the Lord’s name?” her grandma said, quick as a whip.

  “Sorry, mama,” her mother said.

  Gloria just laughed. Natalie stared at her grandmother in awe and was rewarded with a wink. Wonders never ceased.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THREE WEEKS LATER

  NATALIE

  Natalie walked into the baggage claim area and saw the driver holding a sign with her name on it. She had just flown first class into JFK from Los Angeles and was feeling pretty damn special. The driver was the icing on the cake.

  She was excited to be in New York. She had visited several times before and loved it so it was nice to be back. She was even more excited to see Jake again. It had been exactly three weeks since they’d spent that night in the hotel. Since then, they had spent almost every night talking on the phone like a couple of teenagers. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be that comfortable with a man.

  She sat back in the back seat of the car watching as they approached the city. The car was taking her to the Ritz Carlton, which Natalie thought was pretty swanky, especially for the girlfriend of a writer, even if he was a best selling author.

  Natalie thought about that term. Girlfriend. They hadn’t really discussed labels yet. She thought maybe they were a couple, even if they did live on opposite coasts. It had been three measly weeks, most of it on the phone.

  In the end, she decided not to dwell on it. This week would be telling. It was one thing to have a night of hot and heavy passion—or rather two such nights when you added them all up. It was another to spend the entire week together. She wondered how the two of them would work out, spending that much time in each other’s company.

  Natalie’s mouth fell open in awe as she walked into the hotel room. She thanked the man who rolled her one suitcase in and gave him what she hoped was a decent tip. The lushness of her surroundings told her she was definitely out of her element. He smiled pleasantly at any rate and closed the door behind him.

  She threw her purse on the armchair and walked over to the window which offered a spectacular view of Central Park. She sat there a while watching the trees and people go by,
smiling to herself. Then she turned around to get a better view of the room. There was a deliciously fluffy-looking, king-sized bed that she quickly walked over to and threw herself down on.

  This was what you called a vacation.

  Her eyes caught a bouquet on the side table. There were beautiful fresh flowers displayed in the room but this one stood out. She slid herself down the bed and went over to inspect them. It was a vase of 24 colorful tulips, her favorite. She saw there was a card tucked inside and she smiled as she pulled it out and opened the envelope.

  For my Muse...and hopefully much more.

  Her smile grew. She walked back over to her purse and pulled out her cell phone. She moved the purse and curled up in the chair to look out the window at the park as she rang Jake’s number.

  “Hey there,” said the voice that still made her melt. “Did you make it okay then?”

  “Yeah,” she said, “The room is so nice. And some secret admirer left me the most beautiful bouquet of flowers.”

  “Hmm,” he said. “Looks like I have some competition. I guess I better impress you while I have you this week.”

  Natalie laughed.

  “So how do you like the room?” he asked.

  “It seems awfully...extravagant,” she said. “I’m not even one of their writers.”

  “Well, it took some pressuring on my part,” he confessed. “They do like to keep me happy.”

  “Obviously. Right now I’m looking out a the most spectacular view of Central Park,” she said with awe.

  “Wow,” he said, “I’m feeling kind of jealous. I just have a view of the building across the street.”