White Male Page 9

  "Have you been here before?" he asked, turning back to look at me intently.

  "Once."

  "On a date?"

  With Gerry, but you don’t need to know that. "With a friend."

  The server took our orders and at last we were alone, in a public social setting for the first time.

  "So,” he began, “were you always interested in pursuing a career in Finance?”

  “Not really, no. I wanted to study French literature actually.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “My father discouraged me.”

  “Why?”

  “He felt choosing that major would limit my future options. He was more concerned about my post college earning capacity.”

  He looked surprised. “So to your dad, the money was more important?”

  I could tell he couldn’t relate at all.

  “Jonathan, my dad had a very humble upbringing. His dad was a bus driver, his mom was a homemaker. So the only way my dad could improve his life was by pursuing a career in Sports and he’s done well for himself coaching college athletes. He struggled hard and he didn’t want me to go through what he went through. So I understand.”

  He was unconvinced. “But isn’t your happiness more important?”

  He had no clue.

  “When you come from where my dad came from, ‘what’s happiness got to do with it’, you know?”

  It felt awkward. He clearly had no understanding of what it was like to grow up with very little, then fight hard to bring up your children to be the best they could be. He, on the other hand, was born with a golden spoon shoved down his throat.

  “So you don’t resent him?”

  “Not in the slightest. I love him and I think I made the right decision. I still have a long way to go in this industry, but I think I’m headed in the right direction.”

  I had to remove the focus from me before he asked another awkward question.

  “And you, Jonathan, what did you study in college?”

  “Economics and Finance degree then an MBA.”

  “Where?”

  “Penn then Harvard, with a year in Germany during my Bachelors.”

  “Why Germany?”

  “I have distant family there.”

  “Is that where the Strauss name came from?”

  “Yes, my mother’s maiden name was Strauss. When she married my father she brought her own wealth with her, so the company name changed from Carter to Strauss Carter.”

  Wow. Old money, German ancestry; I was out of my depth.

  “Did you like Harvard?”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t bad.”

  “I hope to go back to school someday and do my MBA.”

  “Where are you thinking of going?”

  “Stanford,” I said with a laugh.

  “Why is that funny? Why not?”

  “Because it’s Stanford we are talking about,” I replied, rolling my eyes at the impossibility.

  He set his wine glass down. “One small part of me would say, go for it but a huge part would say, don’t.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “It would be great to see you improving your career prospects, but then that’d mean we’d lose you then I won’t be able to see you much when you go off, back to California.”

  I smiled, trying not to bask in the compliment too much. But I knew California didn’t hold all great memories for me. Remembering my ex-boyfriend must have put a scowl on my face because he noticed.

  “You look like you’re remembering something unpleasant about California.”

  I smiled ruefully. “Maybe a little.”

  “Your ex?”

  He was so perceptive. “I guess.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Willis.”

  “I’m guessing he’s the one who broke your heart and made you leave California?”

  “In part I left because of him, yes. A major part, actually.”

  “Well, his loss is my gain,” he said looking at me with a smile to lighten the mood.

  Just then the food arrived and we ate in silence for a few moments.

  “This food is amazing, Lena,” he said, clearly enjoying his meal.

  “Right? I told you it was great.” I eyed his Japanese marbled steak greedily, dying for a taste.

  “Do you mind if I taste your steak? It’s a black thing to stick our forks in each other’s plates,” I joked.

  He smiled shaking his head, then forked a piece of steak for me and brought it to my lips.

  “Taste this,” he said, slipping the fork into my mouth. I couldn’t help moaning with pleasure at the excellent taste and I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the burst of flavors.

  When I opened my eyes, he was watching me with a look of lust in his eyes.

  “Do you know what happened when you tasted your food like that?” he asked, “you made me hard.”

  I blushed and looked down, taking a sip of my wine. He reached his hand across the table, covering mine. I snatched it away which took him by surprise.

  “Why are you snatching your hand away?” he asked clearly amused.

  “Because I thought you wanted to make me feel your dick,” I confessed, lowering my voice.

  He looked at me, shocked; then threw his head back laughing out loud, turning the heads of a few patrons. I looked at him in surprise. Jonathan Carter laughs out loud? I’d never seen him laugh so heartily in my life. I was momentarily embarrassed to have suspected an ulterior motive, but I had to smile at how gorgeous and sexy he was when he laughed; he seemed so carefree and genuine. At the office, he was serious and focused and smiled often at clients and even at me when we were together lately. But laughing out loud was something I’d never seen.

  After a few seconds he was drying his eyes with a napkin. This time I reached my hand across the table to him and watched as he lifted it to his lips and kissed it.

  “You are too sweet, Lena,” he said and I smiled back at him.

  We opted out of dessert, then Jonathan paid for our dinner with an AmEx black card, attracting curious glances from the hostess. We went outside and found Jackson standing by the car, leaning against it. He immediately straightened and unlocked it, but I suggested we walk to the theater just across the street. I noticed Jonathan giving Jackson a look and Jackson nodded in response.

  We began to walk slowly, talking about our favorite movies. I didn’t know most of his favorites and he didn’t know mine; at least we both agreed the movie ‘Ray’ was pretty special. It was still twenty minutes before the 9.15pm movie. At first I held my clutch in both hands and he had his hands in his leather jacket. But when we were about to cross the street, he offered his hand for me to hold, while making sure the crossing was safe. I could see the Tahoe following us slowly as we made our way across.

  When we got to the theater box office window, I stepped forward to arrange the tickets and took out my credit card. Jonathan stepped beside me and pushed my card out of the way.

  “It’s okay, I’ve got it,” I insisted, pushing his card away.

  “Lena, I invited you out, so it’s on me,” he snapped.

  “But I let you pay for dinner,” I whined.

  “Trust me, Lena; you do not want to compete with me on evening the score. It will go easier on you if you cooperate.”

  I gave up and stepped aside to let him pay.

  The film showing was an action movie, filled with lots of fast moving action scenes. I’d opted for that over a romantic comedy, not wanting to deal with awkward relationship moments that are de rigueur in ‘romcoms’.

  After we’d bought our popcorn and drinks, we entered the theater and chose seats in the center of the movie house. The movie was already in its third week so was only half full, making for a comfortably manageable audience.

  Just as the movie began, a bunch of guys, three in number, came to sit behind us to my left. They were making unnecessary, disruptive comments on the movie the whole time; stan
ding up to clap, holler and hoot at various points in the movie. I was about to ask them to keep it down when an older black woman a few seats from me told them to be quiet. They laughed her off and hollered even more, making horrible comments and calling her names. I knew when the movie ended I’d rather remain seated and let them leave first.

  After the movie, we were amongst the last to leave the partially-filled theater, making our way to the foyer with Jonathan’s hand gently holding my waist. I noticed a few quizzical glances but ignored them as we made our way to the exit. As we got to the exit in front of the theater, we noticed the woman from the movie walking to the parking lot, with the rowdy trio from the movie following her and still mocking her. She kept stopping and turning around, clearly intimidated by them. Jackson was parked quite far from us across the parking lot. Jonathan took in the scene and his hand dropped from my waist.

  “Lena, go wait in the car,” he suggested firmly, his eyes on the group.

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Let me just help this lady get to her car, I’ll be right back. Just go to the car.”

  He turned around and walked towards the lady. I wasn’t about to let him go by himself in case those guys didn’t take too kindly to his interference and things went out of control. I followed at a brisk pace behind him, just as he reached the woman and offered her his arm. The guys hollered even louder. I caught up to Jonathan and the woman, just as she opened her car door. Jonathan was visibly annoyed to see I’d followed him.

  “Lena. Go back to the car please.” His voice was firm and commanding.

  The trio now stood watching us, with clear interest. I looked at them and looked at Jonathan. I could see his concern and irritation as he helped the lady settle in and start her car. While I was walking towards Jackson and the Tahoe, I noticed one of the guys from the group coming towards me. He called out to me to stop. I ignored him and kept walking, glancing backwards in time to see the lady we’d helped driving off slowly.

  “Hey, what’s good, shawty,” the guy called, trotting to catch up, then walking in step with me. I noticed he was quite young, possibly around age twenty one and dressed in baggy jeans and expensive sneakers. I ignored him. I could have answered him and cussed him out, but I was with Jonathan and didn’t want to put him in danger. The thug persisted.

  “So whatchu doin’ tonight? Wanna fuck?”

  “No she doesn’t. Now step off!” Jonathan had caught up with me and stood protectively between me and the guy, his face a lethal mask of rage. Even when I’d seen him lose his temper at work, I’d never seen him this angry. He grabbed my hand and we headed off towards the Tahoe. The other two guys hollered and came jogging towards us, to join their friend who was now clearly spoiling for a confrontation.

  “Hey, black princess,” he called out again. “You don’t need this white man to pay yo’ bills. I got money; here’s two dollars,” he shouted, his friends hooping loudly at his joke.

  Jonathan and I kept walking, as humiliation and embarrassment flooded me at the insult. The guy wouldn’t quit and decided to harass Jonathan instead.

  “Hey yo! White boy! She don’t want you for yo’ small ass dick, bruh. You got money? Coz that’s what them black hoes want from you, man.”

  My steps faltered, but Jonathan’s firm grip urged me on.

  “Keep walking, Lena. I want you safe and secure, so keep moving.”

  Seeing we’d ignored him, the guy ran into step with us and grabbed and held my free hand, walking beside me for several paces as an affront to Jonathan. I tried to yank my hand away but he held it firmly. Jonathan stopped and pushed him away so hard that he stumbled and fell on his back. His friends ran shouting and cursing to help him up. I was gripped with fear; we were outnumbered and now Jonathan was going to get beaten up because of me.

  Across the parking lot, I heard the Tahoe start and the lights switch on, then Jackson drove towards us at high speed. He stopped the car right beside us and Jonathan opened the back door and helped me in quickly then locked and shut the door. Jackson came out and went to the front of the car to meet Jonathan. The two men spoke briefly, then they turned to walk towards the group. I got into a panic.

  “Jonathan, please let’s just go,” I shouted, worried they’d hurt him and Jackson. The two men got to the thugs and the five men had a brief, terse discussion; I couldn’t make out what they said to each other.

  Suddenly without warning, the guy who’d harassed me swung his fist, missing Jonathan by an inch as he leaned back deftly out of the way. He gave the guy a quick jab to the face, sending him staggering back and falling to the ground, blood spurting from his mouth. One of the other guys lunged at him, but Jonathan stopped the guy dead in his tracks with a hard kick to the chest.

  The third guy also tried to attack him, but Jackson slammed the guy onto the hard tarmac and finished him off with a crunching punch to the face. The first thug got up, cussing and screaming, then quickly held his hands up in surrender when he noticed Jackson reaching into his jacket, implying he had a concealed weapon.

  The other two guys who’d fallen were moaning on the ground rubbing the parts that’d been hurt, swearing and cussing; threatening retribution. Jonathan turned around and walked back towards the Tahoe and jumped into the front passenger seat, giving them a grim ‘don’t fuck with me’ look. Jackson jumped into the driver’s seat and we sped off. After we’d cleared the parking lot, Jonathan looked back at me, reaching his hand to squeeze my knee.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice filled with concern, his expression softer.

  I never would have guessed he could throw down like that; but I was still worried he may have been injured. I grabbed a tissue from my purse.

  “I’m okay,” I sniffed, stifling tears. “Jonathan, are you okay? Are you or Jackson hurt?”

  He ordered Jackson to pull over, then he got out and jumped into the back seat and the car continued.

  “Don’t worry, we’re both fine,” he soothed, taking my hand into both of his.

  As soon as he joined me in the back seat, I couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down my cheeks.

  “Hey, please don’t cry,” he soothed, stroking my arm. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

  “Why didn’t we just go?” I snapped at him, tears blinding my eyes.

  He set his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “I would never let them escape after talking shit to you, Lena,” he responded defiantly.

  He’d beaten them up to defend me; I didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m sorry Jonathan; I invited you here,” I gasped, unable to stop the tears.

  He pulled me into his lap, holding me close to him as Jackson sped off through the streets.

  “It’s not your fault, Lena. They started it and we simply finished it,” he said, planting kisses on my temple and neck.

  We drove in silence as he caressed and comforted me while I brought the last of my sniffles under control.

  When we arrived at my apartment, Jackson parked the car, stepped out and shut the door to give us some privacy.

  “Hey,” he began, shifting me in his lap. “Feel better?” I could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

  “I must look like shit,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You look perfect, always beautiful,” he assured, giving me a gentle kiss.

  “Grab your stuff for the night and tomorrow; let’s go to the Penthouse for the night.”

  He wants me to spend the night at his place. I decided not to think of it as more than it was; one-night-stands spend nights together all the time. I looked at my watch and noticing the late hour, I decided to decline. It was almost midnight and I needed to rest for my weekly Sunday time with my mom. I knew if I went with him we’d hardly get any sleep.

  “I can’t, I have an early day tomorrow, I’m going to church with my mom; so I just need to get some sleep.”

  “I promise, I’ll let you sleep tonight.”

  I blinked at him
, not bothering to hide my obvious disbelief.

  “I promise!” he insisted, smiling and holding his hands up in surrender.

  “Okay, let me get my stuff.”

  “Bring your car keys; we’ll take your car and Jackson will take this one.”

  I went upstairs, thinking about the events of the evening, the amazing dinner, the movie and the altercation afterwards. I shook my head; it seemed like Jonathan and I were the only two people on the planet that couldn’t have a quiet, first real outing in public without something awful happening. I was sure he felt resentful about what that crude thug said to us; in his world, he’d never encounter something like that. I got him into a brawl; being with me had dragged him into a dangerous situation. What if they’d been armed with weapons? On top of that, I didn’t listen to him when he’d asked me to go to the car. Perhaps if I hadn’t followed him, it wouldn’t have gotten as bad as it did. I was just relieved they’d managed to resolve it quickly.

  I quickly packed some clothes and toiletries and got a chance to glance at myself in the mirror. My make-up had run and I looked hideous. I washed my face as quickly as I could, changed into sweats and went back downstairs. Jackson and Jonathan were talking on the sidewalk in hushed tones. I put my stuff into my car and Jonathan came towards me, while Jackson started the Tahoe.

  “I’ll drive,” Jonathan offered, taking my car keys from my hand and opening the door to the front passenger seat for me.

  He started my car and drove off, Jackson following closely behind us.

  “How old is this car?” he asked with a look of disdain on his face.

  “I don’t know; maybe 15 years old?”

  He snorted. I took offence.

  “This is the first car I ever bought with my own money,” I told him, offended by his attitude.

  “It’s a piece of junk, Lena,” he said looking around and peering at the dashboard. “On the outside it’s well maintained but seriously, this thing needs to be compacted.”

  “I didn’t want to go into debt getting a new car; I’m in Finance, remember? So I don’t do long term debt for movable assets,” I argued. “I have a car savings fund for my dream car.”