Black Female Read online

  “Good to meet you, Ernest,” I said smiling.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” he replied.

  We introduced our dates to each other, then left them talking while we discussed general pleasantries.

  I could sense Lena by my side and oddly felt as though this was exactly where she’s supposed to be. I was tempted to put my hand on her lower back protectively but suddenly noticed that someone else had already come beside her and beat me to it. I avoided the urge to focus on them and chatted away with Randall. Eventually our conversation wound down and I turned to Lena and the fucker who had his hand on her lower back.

  "Lena, how rude of me," I said offering him my hand, "we haven't been introduced."

  Lena spoke quickly.

  "Mr. Carter, this is Gerry from our Finance department downstairs. We used to work together before I transferred to Business Development."

  Oh, so the fucker worked for me; I’d never seen him before in my life. His hand left Lena’s back and I gave him a vice-grip handshake, pulling him forward. Yeah, the fucker was okay looking, probably some preppy, smart kid, but he was short. Don’t women like tall men?

  "So you work for us?" I asked, wanting it to be clear to him that I was his boss’ boss.

  "Yes sir," he answered enthusiastically. He looked nervous after the awkward handshake I gave him; I didn’t give a fuck.

  "Great to see you putting in overtime," I answered dismissively, turning away from him. If this weak-armed man was Lena’s idea of a boyfriend then I had nothing further to say to him.

  Lena and I headed to Baker and a First Banking Trust executive I hadn’t met, leaving Isabella behind. She was giving me attitude about my discovery of her drug relapse and this was a work function; I chose to focus on talking to Lena and the clients then would deal with her later. After introductions, Lena slipped away and went off with Gerry to talk to a group of assistants.

  From my vantage point, I could see her visibly relax and even share a laugh with them. I’d never seen her laugh; probably because I’d made work tough for her with my attitude. For the first time ever, I felt guilty. She was hard-working and this mixer had been arranged well; perhaps I should ease up on her a little. It was heartwarming to watch her laugh, then flit around making sure our guests were being taken care of.

  The First Banking executives all came to join us for a chat, praising my work in raising the portfolio of Strauss Carter and our successes in the industry. Of course they wanted to know when I’d become CEO; they knew my father was due to retire soon.

  “My father is more capable than ever to remain at the helm,” I assured them. “Right now Strauss Carter is getting two for the price of one,” I added jokingly.

  Later, after I’d finished talking to another First Banking executive I looked around the room to find Lena, congratulate her on a successful mixer then leave. I did not see her, but noticed Gerry going out to the balcony and shutting the doors behind him.

  Oh, so that’s where they were. I followed to talk to her and when I opened the sliding doors, they were in what appeared to be a clinch. Oh so are they fucking then? I wondered, irritated by that uncomfortable feeling of jealousy. I was going to interrupt.

  "Miss Williams,” I said firmly, walking towards them. Gerry acted like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and let go of Lena immediately. I had to dismiss him before he became collateral damage.

  "Gerry, if you will excuse us," I said with my gaze fixed on Lena who was looking uneasy.

  "Sure, Sir," he replied offering me his hand. "I'm heading out now, but it was great to finally meet you, sir."

  I kept my hand firmly in my pocket focusing on Miss Williams.

  Bye, Jeremy," I snapped without looking at him.

  “Umm, it’s Gerald, sir,” he corrected me.

  What, he was still here?

  “Whatever,” I replied dismissively with my back to him.

  "Umm, bye," he mumbled, and I heard the sliding doors open then close.

  Now I was alone with Miss Williams and had to find out if she thought it was professional to make out during a work event.

  "What were you two doing?" I asked sharply.

  "We weren't doing anything," she replied bristling. "And if we were doing something; that would be nobody's business."

  "Everything you do while representing this company is my business," I retorted curtly.

  She began walking towards me with a measured stride. I could see she was losing her temper and I felt a tinge of excitement well up in my chest.

  "Yessuh, Massa Carter," she said sassily, "I apologize, Sire. I’d forgotten that the Master does not like his field hands talking to his bed wench." She got right up in my face and my anger welled up quickly.

  "Do you think saying ridiculous statements to me will change anything?" I retorted, then grabbed her arm and yanked her to a hidden corner of the balcony, behind a square pillar.

  I pressed her body against the wall and lifted her hands high above her head, pinning them with one of mine. With my other hand, I grabbed her luscious behind and pulled her up against my body, making her feel my rigid arousal. I looked into her eyes and saw in hers a feisty contempt. This girl was trouble. My dick thickened at the sight of her defiance, but I saw a flicker of excitement and desire in their depths. I lowered my head to hers and kissed her softly, coaxing and enticing her. I could see she was trying hard to resist me, but I persisted, probing, seducing.

  Her determination crumbled and I felt her responding as I intensified our kiss and pulled her more firmly against me, holding her up. I was already fantasizing about the possibility of taking her in this corner, hard and fast; when she moaned into the kiss then pulled away abruptly, turning her face to the side. Shit, that was nice; I couldn’t understand why she was turning away. We were just getting started.

  I released her hands and placed both of mine on either side of her, keeping her caged. Okay, I got it. She still had regrets about our encounter on Monday. I felt a twinge of some emotion I couldn’t identify.

  "Lena," I began, taking a deep breath. "I know you hate me for what I did to you on Monday. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel any regret."

  "I didn't regret it Mr. Carter ..."

  She didn’t? I felt relief trickle through me.

  "Jonathan," I corrected. I can’t be Mr. Carter if we were going to make out in dark corners like this.

  "I didn't regret it, Jonathan. I'm just sorry it happened that way and in those circumstances."

  I admit the circumstances were pretty hectic with me being her boss. But as the boss I could adapt the rules as they suited me; as long as I didn’t make her feel compelled to do anything because of my position. But if she didn’t regret it, why did she send the apology text? I had to find out.

  "I got your message yesterday, apologizing,” I said, not hiding my confusion. "Lena, why would you apologize for that?” I looked at her questioningly, seeking answers. I’d had the best sex of my life with her and regret was the last emotion I felt. I continued.

  “I'm not sorry at all, Lena. That night was incredible,” I admitted, brushing the tips of my fingers on her cheek. She looked unconvinced.

  “But I hit you, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry about that.”

  I smiled; it was obviously eating her up so I had to dismiss any worry from her mind immediately if I was going to get a chance for another sizzling encounter with her. Besides, I remember becoming painfully aroused at her audacity. Not many people could challenge me like she’d done.

  “I have to admit, that was quite kinky. I’ve never been beaten up after sex before,” I replied, smirking. “And perhaps I may have deserved it; I’m aware I haven’t treated you well since you came to work for me.”

  I could see the look of surprise in her eyes at my admission that I’d been a little mean to her.

  “Why though?” she asked perplexed. “Why have you been so mean to me? I don’t get it.”

  I felt
like shit at that moment and shook my head then looked into her eyes. I had to admit the truth.

  “I think it’s because I’m attracted to you and was frustrated by that. I apologize for the way I’ve acted.”

  I tried to kiss her again, but she ducked out from under my arm and walked towards the light. I followed her, placing my hands in my pockets. She turned to face me.

  "Mr. Carter, I mean Jonathan,” she corrected, “I know it was a one-time thing and won't happen again, but right now I'm more concerned about Isabella who is waiting for you inside."

  What? A one-time thing? She must be joking; there was no way this was going to be a one-time thing; at least once or twice more, before I could let this go.

  "Isabella is just a friend,” I assured her. “I bring her on dates once in a while but we have no romantic involvement."

  If she was asking for clarity on Isabella, then I needed clarity on Gerry. I’m selfish; I don’t fucking share, unless it’s some finished product like Mrs. Epstein.

  “And what’s Gerry to you; your boyfriend?" I demanded, dreading the answer.

  "No he is not," she snapped. "We are just friends."

  Banks was all over her earlier; perhaps he’s the one; there’s no way a girl like Lena was single.

  “And Banks?”

  She gave me a “don’t be an idiot” glare.

  “Mr. Banks is just a friendly client; nothing more,” she answered, shaking her head in admonishment. I was chastened; indeed I was acting like a total idiot high-schooler, demanding information that shouldn’t even matter for casual adult encounters.

  "My apology to you was genuine and I'll see to it that I avoid anything like that ever happening again." she added adamantly, as though she’d made some final decision in her mind.

  It was frustrating that she was determined to get away from me; I couldn’t recall when last it was this hard to arrange a hook up. I ran my hand through my hair; I had to see her away from everyone. Maybe being around people and work was making her tense. I turned to her.

  "You know what, Lena? We need to talk."

  The sliding doors opened and Isabella came towards us, pouting as she’d done all evening since our argument about her drug use.

  "Jonathan, I want to go. Everyone is leaving."

  She turned around and went back inside and I turned my attention back to Lena.

  "Lena, meet me tomorrow. I'm coming over to your place."

  I watched her calculating then hesitating to accept my offer. Since when? Most women jumped at the chance to have me come over.

  "I don't want pictures showing up, giving the wrong impression."

  Oh, so she’d seen my tabloid photographs and was worried about that.

  "Okay, come over to my place instead; at 1 o'clock,” I suggested, not giving her an option for arguments. I saw her facial expression turn from hesitation to suspicion. She was on to me; she knew I wanted more than just to talk. I tried to put her at ease.

  "There is a private restaurant and café in the building, just for residents and their guests. The concierge will direct you. I'll text you my code for parking."

  I didn’t want her to think too much about it; I’d see her tomorrow. I turned and walked towards the doors, then stopped and turned around. I hadn’t congratulated her on a brilliant evening in more ways than one.

  "Great mixer, well done. Good night."

  I smiled at her then left with Isabella.

  Chapter Nine

  The Skyy Bar was at the top of a building in Midtown and membership was by invitation only. Although I was not into the clubbing scene as much as the tabloids painted me out to be, I maintained a membership for networking purposes. So many deals were struck at these establishments; it was business suicide not to participate in that scene. I rarely drank much alcohol when I was there. Normally, I was able to organize with the barman to serve me non-alcoholic drinks so I could remain in control of myself.

  The celebratory function for Dick Howey’s successful movie was being held at the bar and I headed there with Isabella. There’d be lots of celebrities there and she needed to network to get the kind of contacts she wanted. So far, she’d done a few test shoots and some catalog work. I knew taking her there and being seen with me would attract attention to her so I had to do it as a favor for an old friend. She was a lot friendlier after our incident earlier and her resting bitch face was drastically improved.

  We arrived at the club and the waiting photographers took endless photos; I tried not to look irritated while Isabella did her thing. I noticed Dick in the ‘members only’ area talking to a group of starlets and wannabe actors and I approached him to say hello.

  “Hey, Jonathan,” he replied enthusiastically. “I didn’t think you’d make it, I’m glad you came.”

  “I’m glad to be here,” I answered as I pulled Isabella by the arm to introduce her to Dick.

  “This is my very good friend, Isabella Novak,” I said as Dick took her hand and brought it to his lips. “She is a top model from Europe and she has come to the US to see if she might want to work here as well.”

  Dick was immediately interested in her, and introduced her to a few of his friends. A wealthy couple from Miami who had a casting agency that’d worked with Dick spent some time chatting with her, while I had drinks with the Executive Producer on the financing dynamics of the movie business. Naturally, many people came by to say hello to me; including several women, some of whom made a pass at me when they shook my hand. Across the room; I noticed a friend of mine, Chad Bowman who was now dating my ex-girlfriend Carmen Jennings. I was glad they appeared to still be happily together, after I practically gave her to him. The two of them deserved each other; I’d dodged a bullet with Carmen.

  By 11.00pm I was ready to leave. When I found Isabella again, she was having a great time with the new friends she’d met. Since she decided to stay longer, I gave her Jackson’s number to call when she was ready to go home and I left.

  The next morning, I woke up at 7.00am and immediately went to the gym to make up for the work outs I’d missed while in New York. I focused entirely on free weights, saving the cardio for later if I got lucky with Lena Williams. After two hundred crunches which the twin girls were watching me do the whole time in awe, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and rushed out of there before they approached me. They were only eighteen years old and far too young for me to look at them twice. I liked my women grown, plus I knew their father.

  Immediately after breakfast, I called George, the concierge to add Lena Williams to my approved guest list, then sent Lena a text message with my address and a parking code for her, reminding her I expected her at 1.00pm.

  She replied immediately.

  “Heard you had found The One.”

  I snorted; whenever I went out for a night on the town, there were stupid stories about me in the tabloids. She’d probably seen some dumb report about last night. I replied.

  “Fake news. With me, get used to it.”

  When she didn’t reply back, I hoped the message had been received so I set my phone aside and set about doing some crucial work in my home office, before the very distracting Miss Williams arrived for her visit. Since I was meeting her in the restaurant, I intended to find out more about her; I knew almost nothing about her personal life apart from what was on file. I forcibly suppressed my excitement until later and set to work.

  At 12.45pm, I ended a long call with the corporate lawyer, Mark Dixon. We’d spent time refining clauses on an agreement we were working on in a takeover bid for a company based in California.

  I called George, the concierge to inform him that Miss Williams must be escorted to the residents’ restaurant upon arrival, then ran upstairs to wear a T-shirt over my long shorts and some casual shoes. Just before 1.00pm, I went down to the second floor restaurant to wait for Lena; I was surprised to feel a little anxious. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt nervous when waiting for a date.

  A few mom
ents later, I got a call on my cell phone from George.

  “Yes?” I answered.

  “Sir, you have a guest here claiming to be Lena Williams,” he began.

  “Bring her up then,” I ordered him.

  “But sir, there is a bit of a problem,” he added nervously.

  Shit; I hoped Lena hadn’t clapped him or something.

  “Problem?”

  “Yes sir, are you expecting an African American woman? She rudely refused to give us some form of ID.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. George was a pompous ass and if he was asking me this, he could possibly have said something dumb to Lena.

  “George,” I began trying to remain calm, “yes, Miss Williams is African American. Bring her up immediately for fuck sakes.”

  “Yes, sir,” he answered quickly.

  I felt my face flaming with embarrassment at how he may have treated her. George was useful when it came to getting rid of female pests who regularly showed up at the building uninvited to try and meet me, but today was not the day for his blow off skills. He just might have ruined my date.

  I was interrupted by another call from the lawyer, asking for clarity on one more issue. When I saw George and Lena approaching my table in the restaurant, I had to end the call.

  “Listen, Dixon,” I said quietly. “I am not available for the rest of today; if you need anything else, please use email and I’ll revert ASAP.” I ended the call without waiting for his response.

  I stood up and looked at George, not bothering to hide my displeasure with him. He noticeably quailed in response before announcing Lena.

  "Miss Williams," he said timidly, nodding towards her.

  I ignored him and turned my attention to Lena while George scuttled off.

  She was dressed casually in flat shoes, a close-fitting T-Shirt that barely skimmed her waist, and the tightest jeans I’d ever seen. Her body was built to give heart attacks and I felt my own heart racing with excitement. I wondered how she’d managed to pull those jeans over that butt; perhaps it was that stretchy stuff girls wore these days.