“I guess a drink won’t hurt. But let’s not go too far. My car is parked around the corner on Chestnut Street.”
“Cool. I know a spot you’ll like. It’s quiet and the kitchen is still open—in case you get hungry.”
Enjoying the music and the smooth ride, Victoria closed her eyes as they cruised along Walnut Street. The ten-speaker sound system gave the music an almost surreal quality. From the corner of her eyes, she stole glances. She noticed that although Kareem still sported designer labels, this time his look was softer—more GQ. Not as thuggish as before.
The club was situated on a small cobblestone street near Penn’s campus. Though she lived in the area, she had never noticed it, but apparently the place was popular with college kids.
Kareem and Victoria squeezed through a throng of rowdy students.
“It’s not usually this busy!” Kareem yelled over the noise. “But, it’s spring break…” Scanning the room, he spotted an empty table. “Come on, I see a couple of seats.” Kareem was almost a foot taller than Victoria; she didn’t see a thing, but she smiled sweetly and nodded as Kareem squeezed her arm and maneuvered her through the crowd.
It was a romantic setting. Rose buds in a crystal vase. Candlelight. The table was positioned in a cozy corner toward the back of the room, far away from the noise. For some reason, Victoria felt as if the setting was orchestrated, as if perhaps Kareem had arranged it all. She didn’t care. After they were seated, Kareem beckoned the waitress.
In an instant, a pretty, young waitress appeared at their table, pad in hand. “Whatcha havin’?” she asked cheerfully. Overworked and overwhelmed, she still managed a wide smile that revealed perfect teeth. Victoria found herself thinking that a girl as pretty as the waitress would make a killing at Pandora’s. She returned the young woman’s smile, grateful that the she was waiting tables instead of competing with her at work.
Victoria ordered white wine; Kareem ordered a Coke. “I don’t drink,” he explained when Victoria lifted a brow.
“You look a little young to be a recovering…”
Kareem laughed heartily, cutting her off. “No, I’m not an alcoholic. And I’m not on any twelve-step program. I just don’t like the taste, so I don’t drink it.”
Unable to come up with a clever remark, Victoria simply smiled.
“But since we’re getting personal, let me ask you a question.” Kareem paused, then asked, “What’s your real name?”
“Victoria,” she replied, relieved. She had been braced for a difficult question that began with: “What’s a nice girl like you…”
“Victoria,” he repeated. “That’s nice, but I wouldn’t have guessed it.”
“Oh no? What would you have guessed? LaKeisha? Quineesha? Or Tyreesha?” she asked, laughing. So often her laughter was a fake response to something a customer said. It was refreshing to laugh in earnest.
“No, I thought your name would be something like… Angel.”
“Angel?” she repeated, making a face.
Looking at her with soulful eyes, Kareem said, “Yeah, Angel.” He paused, then shook his head. “Because I feel like I’m in heaven.”
Caught off guard, Victoria blushed, and then lowered her gaze. She struggled to control the modest smile that threatened to become a ridiculous grin.
Kareem was a smooth operator. He knew exactly what to say. Victoria tried to suppress a smile, but couldn’t. Then a look of worry clouded her eyes. What was Kareem after—a free session? How many times had she heard the girls at work expound on the qualities of a good hoe. It seemed that the worst thing a working girl could do was to fall in love with a trick, and give up the goods without monetary exchange. The stupid girls who engaged in this practice always ended up disgraced and ashamed when the relationship ended. The trick always returned to the place where he met her. But he’d ignore the foolish girl who’d sold herself cheap. Ready for a new challenge, he’d select someone who’d demand hard cash—up front.
Victoria did not aspire to become a good hoe, but she cringed at the thought of Kareem showing up at Pandora’s and eagerly paying her nemesis, Arianna.
She’d have to be very, very careful, indeed.
But she was perplexed by thoughts of the time they had spent together. She was certain they had shared more than just a night of passion. Their lovemaking had been special; something deep and meaningful had transpired between them.
Feeling self-conscious, Victoria turned the wineglass to her lips and took several sips. She studied her hands, but not knowing what to do with them, she began nervously fiddling with the vase.
Without a word, Kareem extended an open palm, compelling her to look at him. Victoria lifted her gaze; she suddenly wanted so badly to trust someone again. She took a deep breath, and on a leap of faith, she gave him her hand. Instantly, currents, sensations, coursed up her arm. Their fingers entwined. She was caught up in the whirlwind of a touch so intense and as powerful as actually making love.
CHAPTER 22
“Mommy!” The urgency in Jordan’s voice jerked Victoria from a deep sleep.
“What is it, honey?”
“We don’t have any more cereal.”
“Can’t you eat something else? There’s some strawberry yogurt in the fridge; why don’t you eat that?” Victoria stroked her son’s face, hoping he’d cooperate. She wasn’t ready to leave the warmth of her bed.
“Yogurt?” Jordan wrinkled his nose.
Victoria threw off the comforter. “Okay, all right. I’ll fix pancakes.”
Jordan yelped with glee.
Trudging into the kitchen, Jordan on her heels, Victoria couldn’t help thinking hateful thoughts about her son’s babysitter, Charmaine. The woman had disrupted her sleep earlier that morning when she brought Jordan home at seven in the morning—two hours earlier than she was supposed to.
“Girl, my beautician called last night to tell me that she had an early morning cancellation. You can see how bad my hair is looking, so you know I’m gonna be there as soon as she opens the door,” Charmaine had said, laughing.
Victoria saw no humor in being awakened. She waited for Charmaine to mention returning the extra money she’d paid her, but Charmaine just signaled her son Stevie to follow her out the door. Victoria made a mental note to deduct the money the next time she paid Charmaine.
After Charmaine left, Victoria, still groggy from lack of sleep, had emptied a box of cereal into a bowl, added milk, placed it in front of Jordan and practically dove back into bed.
But cereal wasn’t enough; Jordan was still hungry. She forced herself to become alert as she measured the ingredients for pancakes. Then, pouring batter into the hot skillet, her thoughts drifted to Kareem. Since the night they’d gone out for a drink, the night that had ended on her doorstep with a cautious kiss, Kareem had called every couple of days. “Just checking in,” he’d say.
Awkward silences made their first telephone conversations choppy, without rhythm, but they soon progressed to lengthy, intimate discourse. Victoria was relieved to find out that Kareem did not sell drugs. He told her that he and a partner had recently formed a production company that handled rap artists.
“What’s your partner’s name?” she asked stiffly.
“Max Kleinberg. He’s Jewish, and he’s down with rap.”
Relieved that he didn’t say Justice Martin, Victoria added with a chuckle. “Your partner’s Jewish, and he’s down with money!”
“Aw, that’s cold. Why you hatin’?”
“You left that wide open. I couldn’t resist.”
Despite the staying power of rap music, Victoria still held onto the notion that except for Philly’s own Will Smith, rappers were nothing more than thugs who were paid incredible amounts of money to spew venom onto borrowed tracks. But she kept those thoughts to herself.
Victoria encouraged Kareem to talk about himself, his work. His enthusiasm and drive were refreshing and reminded her of how she used to be. She offered little personal inform
ation, and Kareem didn’t pry. The topic of her former marriage was not worth mentioning, and as far as work was concerned, what tidbit could she share? I met a really weird guy at work today; he offered to tip me an extra fifty if I walked on his back with spike heels…oh yeah, and he also wanted to lick the bottom of my shoes! It was doubtful that Kareem would be comfortable listening to banter such as that, and since she couldn’t guarantee that she’d be able to keep her emotions in check if she discussed her past life as a singer, her contribution to their conversations focused on Jordan—the funny things he said and did, her hopes for his future.
Victoria and Kareem sometimes talked for hours at a time, but there was no mention of when they’d get together again. They were being cautious, and there was so much left unsaid.
After clearing away the breakfast dishes, Victoria napped undisturbed until noon. Feeling refreshed and invigorated, it occurred to her that she should tackle the chore of grocery shopping while she had the energy. Donning a pair of jeans, a Gap sweatshirt, sneakers and dark shades, Victoria pushed a shopping cart up and down the aisles in the supermarket. With his arms draped over the side of the cart, Jordan stood on the bottom rack and rode along. Ordinarily, Victoria would shoo her son from the cart as soon as pushing him became burdensome, but preoccupied with thoughts of Kareem, she hardly noticed the extra weight.
A sharp turn into the coffee aisle caused Jordan to yelp with glee as he clung to the cart wide-eyed and grinning as if he’d just survived a wild roller coaster ride. “Do that again, Mommy!”
There was enough coffee at home to last a year; still, Victoria inspected the containers of coffee beans. Cinnamon Viennese was a new discovery, but the bin was empty; there was only decaffeinated left. Victoria turned up her nose; decaf lacked the kick she needed to get her day started. She spun the shopping cart around and gave it a forceful push. Jordan was delighted to be in motion again as he and his mother speedily left the coffee aisle. Victoria stopped suddenly in front of the pasta and spaghetti sauce. Instead of scanning labels, she pulled her cell phone from its leather case and began pushing numbers to check her answering machine. There was only one message, and it was from Kareem.
“Hey, gorgeous. Sorry I missed you, too.” Kareem said in response to her recorded message that began with: Sorry I missed your call… “Hit me up on my pager when you get this.”
Victoria had to admit that she was quite smitten. And it was time to do something about it. She was ready to take their relationship to another level. There was absolutely nothing to fear. Kareem’s awareness of her profession was a good thing, she reasoned. It absolved her from the burden of having to lie about what she did for a living. She didn’t expect him to approve, but his pursuit of her was evidence that he had accepted it.
“Why are you smiling, Mommy?”
“Because I’m happy.” She cupped her son’s face and kissed him.
Victoria controlled an urge to page Kareem right there in the supermarket. She had a lot to say but decided to wait until she got home and could talk privately.
All interest in grocery shopping ended. Victoria scanned the items that were in her cart, trying to determine if she’d forgotten anything important.
“Can I have this, Mommy?”
Lost in thought, Victoria glanced at Jordan, who was holding a box of Fruit Roll-Ups. She muttered a vague response, which Jordan interpreted as consent. He tossed the box into the cart, and a large bag of caramel corn as well.
“This is fun, Mommy,” Jordan exclaimed as he and his mother, both slinging groceries into the cart, sped up and down the remaining aisles.
At home, Victoria quickly put away the groceries, and then paged Kareem. Sorting through the ton of piled-up laundry gave her something to do while she waited for his return call.
Though she was waiting for the phone to ring, the sound of it made her jump.
She answered with a nonchalant: Hello, and had no idea why she found it necessary to play games.
“Whassup?” Kareem asked. It was his standard greeting.
“Hi, Kareem,” she said, sounding surprised, as if she hadn’t just paged him. More games.
“I’m stuck in Baltimore right now, but I’ll be back in Philly tonight. So, look here…” Kareem paused. “I miss you, girl.”
His declaration took her completely off guard; she was too flustered to think of an appropriate response. The first thing that popped out of her mouth was, “What are you doing in Baltimore?” in a thin, whining voice that she instantly regretted.
“I’m trying to take care of some business,” Kareem replied. “One of my acts is booked to play down here, a young brotha called Indecent. I’m dealing with some contract issues with the promoter. Hopefully, we’ll be able to work things out. But, I didn’t call you to discuss my problems. You working tonight?”
“No!” she lied. She was on the schedule, but wouldn’t hesitate to call out.
“Think we can get together?” There was a nervous crack in Kareem’s voice. “I know you said you don’t go out with…”
“Kareem,” she interrupted him. “We can get together; I’d love to see you tonight.”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll pick you up around eight. Do you have a favorite restaurant?”
“Why don’t you choose,” Victoria suggested. Then in a sultry voice, she added, “I’m open to new experiences. Surprise me.”
CHAPTER 23
Victoria was no longer upset with Charmaine. In fact, she couldn’t thank her enough for agreeing to baby-sit for Jordan on such short notice.
“Your hair looks nice, Charmaine.”
“Thanks.” Charmaine proudly patted her new ’do. Her hair was pulled back into a thick French roll. The style was attractive, but did nothing for Charmaine’s round face. Her beautician probably expected the style to have a slimming effect.
After agreeing to baby-sit, Charmaine asked with widened eyes and screwed up lips that suggested concern, “Are you working again tonight?” It seemed to Victoria that Charmaine’s curious face had become an enormous circle with smaller circles filled in.
“No, I’m not working. Actually, I have a date,” Victoria said, beaming.
“Well, you go, girl. It’s about time. Now you can start wearing some of those expensive clothes I know you been buying.” Victoria looked surprised. “Honey, I don’t miss much. I see you coming home carrying bags from Macy’s, Bloomingdale’s, and what’s that other one…Neeman somebody.”
“Neiman Marcus,” Victoria said, laughing.
It was true. Victoria’s closet was overflowing with expensive outfits she had never worn. Her date with Kareem was a perfect opportunity to wear one of her favorite dresses, a Nicole Miller black sheath. The dress was cut low in the front, and for maximum exposure, there was a long slit in the back. Seamed stockings would add an extra sexy touch, and show off her long shapely legs.
Victoria hustled Jordan to Charmaine’s at five o’clock, then rushed to get a manicure and pedicure at the nail salon on Baltimore Avenue.
Admiring her shimmering oyster-colored nails, Victoria returned home at twenty after six. To set the mood, she clicked on the stereo and popped in Voodoo by D’Angelo. She filled the bathtub with warm water and peach scented bubble bath. Humming along with “Send It On”, she padded into the kitchen to uncork a chilled bottle of Pouilly-Fuisse and poured herself a glass. Sipping wine and harmonizing with D’Angelo, she returned to the bathroom. She carefully placed the wineglass on the side of the tub, lit a peach-scented candle, and deeply inhaled the delicious aroma that wafted through the air.
Victoria stripped out of her clothes, pinned up her braids, and eased down into the soapy water. A warm glow relaxed her body; she took a few more sips of wine before easing her head against the bath pillow. Behind closed eyes she saw a beautifully vivid image of Kareem—naked. Hot and excited, she sat up straight, splashing water from the tub as she fanned herself, then reached for the wineglass. She couldn’t recall t
he last time she’d felt so exhilarated, so happy.
Victoria listened with a smile as D’Angelo belted out the question, How Does It Feel? She slid back down into the tub, knowing she’d get the answer to that question tonight.
“You look beautiful.”
Victoria managed to look both shy and seductive as she looked across the table at Kareem. “Thank you,” she said, meeting his gaze. Then she looked around admiringly at the posh, dimly-lit room that was accentuated by displayed artwork. Adding to the ambiance were flowers and foliage that hung from exposed beams. Soft jazz played in the background.
“A friend recommended this restaurant. I wasn’t sure if I was capable of offering a new dining experience to someone as sophisticated as you.” There was a glint of mischief in Kareem’s eyes.
The modest, downcast angle of Victoria’s eyes revealed that she was flattered, but she made no immediate response. Kareem was so smooth, she wasn’t sure if he was being playful or sincere. After a long pause, she said, “This is lovely, Kareem. Your friend has exquisite taste.”
“True. I have to give my man his props. But you have to admit…I have pretty good taste, too.”
Victoria looked surprised.
“It’s obvious.” He laughed. Then his tone turned serious and low. “Look at you. You’re beautiful—intelligent. And no joke, Victoria…I can’t believe I’m sitting here with you.”
The fear that Kareem was toying with her prevented Victoria from enjoying his compliments completely. Searching for a glimmer of deception, she looked into his eyes and stared intently. Reflected in his eyes were raw emotions that matched her own. She saw yearning and hope…a willingness to love.
Feeling safe enough to peel away a protective layer of nonchalance, Victoria said in a whisper, “For whatever reasons and for however long, I’m glad that you’re in my life, Kareem.”
Kareem didn’t miss a beat. “And I’m going to be here as long as you want me to.”
The desire for physical contact had never been so strong. It was on the tip of her tongue to say: “Kareem, I want you now!” Her eyes darted around the room at the other diners and she was reminded that they were not alone. More than anything, Victoria wanted to hold and be held by Kareem.
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