White Male
White Male
By
Kim J. West
White Male
Copyright © 2017 Kim J. West Publications
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons; living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.
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Email: westkimj@gmail.com
Twitter: @westkimj
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter One
I bit the inside of my cheek hard as I walked out of my boss, Mr. Jonathan Carter’s office.
I have to make it out of here before I burst out crying, I told myself, trying to maintain my composure as I walked through the busy pool office; headed for the restroom. I was relieved to find it empty and the tear I’d been holding back welled up and rolled down my cheek. I dashed it away angrily, looking in the mirror while struggling to suppress my anger.
He’s such a racist, I screamed silently. I was sick to bastard death of him.
I wasn’t going to put up with his arseholery much longer.
*****
When I first moved to Atlanta from Los Angeles four months previously and started working for Strauss Carter Financial Management, I felt like I’d won the lottery. I began working as a Junior Financial Analyst in the Finance department, loving every minute of it. One afternoon, Mr. Fidelis Parker the Finance Manager, called me to his office. He was an intelligent African American man in his late forties and had a distinguished air about him, made more conspicuous by his rimless spectacles and salt and pepper hair. I knocked on his open door and he indicated the chair in front of his desk, his face not looking very pleased.
“Lena, please sit down.”
I sat down, wondering if there was a problem with the figures I’d submitted for a weekly report and doing a mental run-through of all my current work. He took a sheet of paper out of his folder and placed it before me.
“A new post has been advertised in the Marketing section of the Business Development Department,” he began. “They have an opening for the post of Account Executive; you might want to apply for it.”
I scanned the sheet he’d placed before me, trying to figure out why he wanted me out of his department. I had to ask.
“Sir, do you have any concerns about the work I’ve done in this department?”
He shook his head.
“Not at all. We are very pleased with your work,” he assured me, looking sympathetic.
“We’ve received instructions from the very top to offer this opportunity for consideration to those who already work for the company, especially minority candidates.”
It was my turn to shake my head.
“Sir, I’m not sure I’ll be applying for this post; I’m already very happy doing the work I’m doing right now.”
“Lena, this post would be a promotion and you’d be earning much more, plus commission and other benefits.”
I paused. That would significantly change things.
“Look, you’re already qualified for the job,” he added. “You have a degree in Finance and a minor in Marketing. The work you’ve done in our department has given you a good foundation to be an excellent candidate for this post.”
I suppressed my excitement at the prospect of a promotion after such a short time. I didn’t want to offend Mr. Parker.
“Am I the only candidate?”
“I believe a few others, both internally and externally will be considered.”
“Sir, would you advise me to apply for this post?” I asked, looking at his still grim face wondering why he wasn’t happy.
“Well, Lena, we received a request for your application by name; so as much as we’d hate to lose you, it appears the powers-that-be have taken note of your performance.”
My heart stopped briefly. Who had requested for me in person? I knew the grandson of the company founder, Mr. Jonathan Carter was the Chief of Business Development, but there were several layers beneath him.
“Do you know who requested for me to apply?”
“Nope. It just came to my desk from Janice Walker, a Personal Assistant in that department. So it’s one of the senior managers there, perhaps,” he shrugged, rising from his chair.
“So go ahead, read that job application I’ve given you then try your luck and apply. I can’t say I’d be happy to see you go, but I wish you well,” he smiled rounding his desk.
I walked out of Mr. Parker’s office with a feeling of excitement as I went to my desk to read the sheet he’d given me. The more I read about the post, the more I knew I had to have it.
The job interview included creating a mock presentation for a major corporate client. Being from Los Angeles, I had a policy: "go big or go home".
Over the next two weeks, I prepared professionally bound, full color booklets and a stunning video presentation using Adobe graphics. I suspected my competition, at best, may prepare a pitiful slideshow presentation or some stapled sheets in a folder. I was getting this job no matter what and I was going all out. I heard the interviews would be conducted by two senior managers. Both of these people reported to Jonathan Carter. I’d not heard much on what sort of boss he was, but I knew he was driven. For the last five years, his department’s efforts had quadrupled income for the company which was continually exceeding all projections and had increased the Carter family fortune from millions into billions.
Two weeks later, the day of the interview came. Nine shortlisted applicants were interviewing for the job in groups of three, over three days. All interviews were being conducted in the conference room of the Business Development department, two floors above the Finance department. Two other applicants were also from the company, the rest being external candidates. I was in the third group set for Wednesday.
My group’s interview was beginning at 2.00pm. I’d heard the previous days’ candidates had not impressed the managers with their presentations, but refrained from relaxing over this news. I was going to have to kill it.
At one o’clock on Wednesday, instead of taking a long lunch break, I ate a quick sandwich at my desk and went up to the conference room where the interviews were being conducted. I set up the large digital display screen and checked that my laptop connections were working, along with the lighting and sound. Finally, I adjusted the air-cond
itioning to ensure it was in my comfort zone. When everything was ready, I went to the bathroom to freshen up, top up my lip-gloss and change into pair of fresh panties for extra confidence.
When I got back to the conference room, one of the other candidates, a young blond guy, had arrived. He was about twenty four years old, which would make him the same age as me and he had his hair styled in a fashionable pompadour. The last candidate, an African American guy who reminded me of Carlton from the comedy ‘Fresh Prince of Bel Air’, arrived soon after that. After we exchanged pleasantries and nervous banter, we settled in to wait for the two managers to arrive for the interviews.
Mr. Jack Baker and Mr. Donald Wallace arrived together shortly after; both men were in their early fifties. Mr. Baker had a balding head, a kind face that seemed approachable and was constantly smiling. Mr. Wallace was taller; around six feet tall with gray hair, a large paunch and a serious face, giving him an intimidating appearance. Mr. Wallace was the more senior of the two men. After introducing themselves, Mr. Baker asked who wanted to be first to make their presentation. The young blond guy who was about 5’5” tall raised his hand, grinning enthusiastically, almost baring his brilliant white teeth. I looked at the managers and noticed them giving each other meaningful glances about the excessive grin. After he was given the go ahead, he began handing out a sheaf of slightly crumpled papers to the two interviewers and apologized for not having more for the candidates.
Just as he was about to launch into his prepared pitch, there was a knock on the conference door. Without waiting for a response, the door opened and in entered Mr. Jonathan Carter, the Chief of Business Development and future CEO of Strauss Carter Financial Management. My heart leapt instantly. This would be my first time to meet him in person; I’d occasionally seen him in the entrance lobby, moving with groups of executives or simply passing through. I cringed as I recalled one morning, on my way through the turnstiles; he’d caught me staring at him appreciatively, which he’d answered with a raised eyebrow. I’d quickly looked away, hoping that employing over 800 people meant he could never remember who the audacious black girl was who’d just eye-fucked him in the lobby. Murphy’s Law meant after that embarrassing incident, I found myself running into him more often and trying to avoid him as much as I could; changing my direction or waiting for alternative elevators.
He was a twenty nine year old hot piece of ass and the arrogance and attitude he exuded showed it. He was tall, over 6’3” and had dark hair cropped in a trendy Ivy League hairstyle and piercing blue eyes. His permanent designer stubble gave him a ‘sports-model-meets-money-and-sex’ look and he evidently did a lot of working out, judging from the fit of his dark, slim-fit, Armani suits. His active social life often featured him in the gossip tabloids with some blonde socialite or other, hanging onto his arm. He was considered one of Atlanta's most eligible bachelors in the white community. He was also good at what he did, with his department driving the company hard in getting new business, as well as facilitating mergers and acquisitions across several states.
I’d heard the other interviews had been conducted by the senior managers; so why was he here for ours? Mr. Baker introduced us to him individually, ending with me. Unlike the other candidates, I stood up politely and stepped forward to shake Mr. Carter’s hand, smiling confidently. When my hand touched his palm, I felt a strange sensation pass between us. Many people have described the sensation as an electrical current, but for me it felt more like a sliver of carnality. I held his hand a moment too long, and he raised his eyebrows again, prompting me to retreat quickly, going back to my chair at the far end of the conference table. Shaking his hand had prompted the other candidates to shuffle uneasily out of their seats to do the same.
Mr. Carter sat down at the head of the table, occupying the chair Mr. Wallace had vacated and asked Mr. Baker to proceed. The young blond guy began his presentation again, smiling even more widely for the new arrival’s benefit. I saw Mr. Carter glance questioningly at Mr. Baker who looked down; appearing to hide a smile behind the sheaf of dog-eared papers he’d been given by the candidate.
After his presentation, the two managers interchangeably asked him several quick fire questions as a client would, then the young blond sat down, appearing relieved and pleased with himself. After him, the Carlton Banks lookalike stood up and did a slideshow presentation, placing his laptop directly in from of the managers. Mr. Carter looked rather bored and distracted. After a grilling which showed he was grossly uninformed on the finance industry, he sat down looking displeased with his performance. Mr. Baker prompted me to proceed with mine.
As practiced, I woke up my already connected laptop and switched on the large digital screen. I walked confidently towards the wall and dimmed the lights. When I glanced at Mr. Carter, I noticed he’d adjusted himself in his seat, leaning forward with his elbows on the table; with his interlocked hands concealing the lower half of his face. His eyes and the eyes of everybody in the room were trained on me. I handed out the full-color, bound booklets of my presentation document to each person, including the other two candidates. I launched my video, speaking over each section of my presentation. The graphics were stunning, the figures were simplified and the presentation was suitably short.
When it ended, I brightened the lights, led them briefly through the brochure then opened the floor to questions. The two managers looked at each other, seemingly impressed; but the two candidates looked horrified. Young blond guy was no longer smiling, his bared teeth now concealed beneath a sulky pout. Mr. Carter wore an unreadable expression on his face, remaining in the same position, hands tented in from of him.
I answered the questions from Mr. Baker and Mr. Wallace easily, having taken note of the ones they’d asked candidate one and two. My knowledge of figures from my time in the Finance department showed I had a suitable grasp of the business and the industry. When they were done, Mr. Baker deferred to Mr. Carter, asking if he had anything to add. He shook his head, wished us luck and left the room without a backward glance.
“Thank you all,” Mr. Baker said, rising and returning our documents to us. “If you’ve been successful, we’ll inform you by email.”
We thanked him and filed out of the room and I returned to my department.
A week later, I received the email I’d been waiting for. I’d gotten the job and would begin the following month, starting with a week of in-house training and a second week of shadowing a colleague to learn the ropes. My package was significantly better than my current post, with commission plus performance bonuses.
I’d moved from Los Angeles to Atlanta for two good reasons. The first was to get away from my vile ex-boyfriend Willis; but more on his small dick later. The other reason was to be reunited with my mother, Regina Williams, so she was the first person I called to share my good fortune. She’d left me with my father, Elvin Williams, in LA years ago when they divorced; her problems with alcohol having driven them apart.
Her losing me in court was the catalyst that led to her recovery and decision to return to her parents’ Atlanta home. She subsequently returned to college to re-train as a nurse, just so she could voluntarily contribute to my upbringing. I loved bonding with her after all those years apart, restoring a relationship we’d conducted for years on the telephone and email. I knew her love for me was the reason for her restoration and I never held it against her for leaving. My father had remarried another woman a year after the divorce and they gave me the stability my mother couldn’t give me at that time.
When I told her about my promotion she squealed in delight as she’d done for years over the phone whenever I achieved something.
“Honey, that’s fantastic!” she exclaimed. “I’ve always known you were destined for greatness. I’ll be praying for you.”
“Thank you, mom.”
Chapter Two
On the first day of my new job, I arrived early and settled into the cubicle I’d been assigned. I’d been introduced to most of my colleague
s during previous meetings I’d had with Mr. Baker in the week before my start date. They’d welcomed me warmly and I already knew a few of them from inter-department dealings. Although I wasn’t the only black female Account Executive, I was now the youngest one and knew my performance would be watched closely.
When Janice Walker, Mr. Carter’s Personal Assistant arrived, she asked me to visit Human Resources to sign the various documents, then she gave me my training schedule for the week to acquaint myself with my role. She was an attractive, slim, young woman around age twenty-seven with long, brown, wavy hair and she always wore sky high heels and the brightest red lipstick she could find. She was very friendly and spoke with a soothing voice that calmed my nerves. She also gave me an appointment to meet with Mr. Carter and Mr. Baker at the end of the second week.
When the appointment day came, Mr. Baker couldn’t make it; he was called away to solve a crisis.
When I reported to Janice, she immediately ushered me into Mr. Carter’s office. Since beginning my new work, I’d seen him once or twice, usually on his way to his office. I was nervous as I entered his office with my notebook in my hand, about to speak to him alone for the first time. He was standing behind his desk, talking on his phone with one hand on his hip. When I walked in, he glanced up, pointed to a chair and carried on with his call. I looked around his office, noting the large portraits of his father and grandfather on the wall. I couldn’t help admiring his attractive, hot-as-hell appearance, but avoided ogling him right there in his office by glancing around the room to avoid his gaze. He ended his call, pulled out his chair and sat behind his desk, glancing at a few papers in a pile in front of him.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Carter,” I said, smiling politely.
He glanced at me, “Good afternoon, Lena. I trust that you are settling in?”
“Yes sir,” I replied.
In marketing training, we’d been taught to begin meetings with an icebreaker when visiting a client. In a split second I made the decision to try it with Mr. Carter.