After Office Hours

by E Caroline Wilson

  She insisted on paying the check. When David objected, she held firm. “Come on, David. You took time to write those letters…to go to negotiate at JJ Demolition offices, and you didn’t take a dime for it. The least I can do is buy you lunch. This is supposed to be a dual celebration, remember?”

  He chuckled, and she happily paid. Picking up the lunch tab really was the least she could do. She really should’ve offered to pay for dinner, but she was worried about how much it would be. Twenty-eight dollars for lunch for two wasn’t bad, for either midtown Manhattan or out here in the Hamptons, but she suspected dinner would easily run over a hundred, maybe over a hundred-and-fifty. She hated to be cheap—after all, she did have twenty grand coming—but spending that much on a single meal was beyond her comprehension.

  You can take the girl out of the projects, but you can’t take the projects out of the girl.

  When they returned to the house, they ditched their sneakers for flip flops, Devin’s made of sturdy rubber and his from brown leather, and went to the beach.

  The wooden ramp was too narrow for them to walk side-by-side, so Devin led the way. David hung back two or three feet. She couldn’t know for certain, but she suspected his eyes were glued to her ass, which she knew filled out the seat of her Capris nicely. Bet mine is nicer than those of the white girls he dates, she thought.

  It delighted her to see that the beach was largely deserted. At her request they strolled close to the tide, the cool water rushing in to lap at their feet. Devin breathed in the salt air, happy and content. Ever since David invited her out here, she’d dreamed of walking hand-in-hand on the beach with him, their flip-flops leaving prints in the wet sand behind them. She could only imagine how it would feel to cuddle with him after making love, and to fall asleep to that repeated, relaxing sound of pounding surf.

  She looked at the backs of the imposing homes that lined Dune Road, only the upper stories and roofs of which were visible past the tall dunes. “This is wonderful, David. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

  They strolled along, still holding hands, chatting about whatever popped into their heads. Devin’s eyes kept going to the houses they passed. Farther west she’d seen small one-story homes built on stilts, but the houses here were all much larger. What would it feel like to be rich, she wondered. To take things like summer homes and playing tennis for granted?

  She reminded herself that all tennis players didn’t come from wealth. Serena Williams and her sister Venus learned to play tennis on the courts of Compton, California. It was their natural talent for the game that brought them wealth and fame. Plus, they had a father to guide them.

  Devin had no natural talent and no father to guide her, nor did she have a college degree. How could she expect to make something of herself?

  But I’m smart, she told herself. Maybe she could learn enough about the legal profession during her time at Holt & Cotten to be able to run a law office…

  “So Devin, where do you see yourself in ten years?”

  Her body jerked. How had David known she’d been pondering her future?

  “Let’s see. In ten years I’ll be thirty-eight years old, so I hope to be married and have a couple of kids by then. I know I can’t afford to be a stay-at-home mom, but I’d like to own a home.” That was her real goal, what she was saving for. “Ideally my mother will live either with, or near my husband and me, and she’ll be able to watch them when they get home from school. She’ll still be young, not quite sixty. Still, that’s too old to be cleaning rooms at the Four Seasons. Too much bending and stretching.”

  “I agree. Where do you see yourself living?”

  “Oh, Rockland County, maybe New Jersey. Someplace affordable.”

  “What type of work do you see yourself doing by that point?”

  She laughed. “That depends on how this job goes. I’d love to run a law office. You know, be Della Street to Perry Mason.” She gave him a curious look. “What about you, David? Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

  His immediate answer told her he’d already given the matter serious thought. “I want my own law firm. I’d keep it small, with one assistant. Maybe one associate, max. Obviously, I’ll still be living in the townhouse. I was brought there after I was born, and I’ll probably live there my whole life.”

  Wouldn’t it be dreamy if I could be his assistant, she thought, in life as well as in the office. Aloud she said, “What about having a family? After all, you’ll be forty-two.”

  “Maybe.”

  That was an interesting response, she thought. Before she could ask why he seemed so noncommittal, a wave of water they didn’t see coming rushed at them. Devin squealed as the water splashed over her knees, hitting her with such force it sent her falling against David. Caught off guard, he went down into the wet sand, and she went with him.

  “What just happened?” she said, her forearms outstretched, palms out. Look at me!” She patted her thighs as the water retreated. Her Capris were soaked to the thighs, with sand clinging to her knees where she’d fallen. “And look at you!” The bottom third of his shorts were wet, and clumps of wet sand were plastered to the skin of his legs.

  They looked at each other, and their chuckles at each other’s sand-drenched appearance grew into laughter that bordered on hysterical. The waves continued to rush to the shore, but less forceful than the one that knocked them down.

  “The water out here has always been unpredictable,” David explained. “Every once in a while, an extremely powerful wave will come along. After a storm it can get downright dangerous. Once we went walking a few days after a hurricane, and my mom nearly got swept away. We all had to go in and grab her.”

  “Sounds scary. But what’re we going to do?” Devin said, her hands rubbing her wet pants legs.

  “Simple. We’ll go back to the house and run our clothes through the washer and dryer,” he replied with a shrug. “In an hour we’ll be good as new. Come on, let’s go.” He moved into a kneeling position and held out his hand to help her up.

  He used too much strength, and she stumbled against him. Acting quickly, he hands moved to cup her face. “My God, you’re lovely.”

  Devin knew what was coming, and she welcomed it. It didn’t matter that her pants were covered with salt water and sand. All that mattered was that his face was moving close to hers. She met his lips with her mouth slightly open, eagerly leaning into him. David eased backward onto the wet sand, bringing her with him. They kissed passionately and without interruption, knowing no one was around to see.

  He shifted position slightly, laying her on her side, one of his legs thrown over hers. Devin was so lost in his kiss that she was only vaguely aware of the wet sand against the side of her head. One of her hands clutched at his shoulder, the other pressed against the back of his head. The kiss went on and on, with them breathing through their open mouths.

  A rush of water against her back forced her to break the kiss. Her chest rising and falling rapidly and just imagining how messy she must look, Devin suddenly felt embarrassed.

  So did David. “Looks like I did it again.”

  “So did I,” she murmured.

  “I’m sorry, Devin. I couldn’t help myself. I confess, I’ve been wanting to kiss you ever since I picked you up. You just don’t know how good you look.”

  That made her howl with laughter. She sat up and brushed some sand off her sleeve, then ran a hand over her hair, which was plastered to her neck. “Are you kidding? If there were any little kids around, they’d probably take one look at me and run away screaming like I was a monster or something.”

  “Let’s go back to the house and get cleaned up. I’ll throw these clothes in the washer.”

  “You know,” Devin said as she got to her feet, “In that old movie with the couple kissing on the beach and the waves rolled over them, they looked so nice. But we’re a mess.”

  “Ah, From Here to Eternity. But th
ey were wearing swimsuits. They would have looked a mess, too, if they’d been wearing street clothes like we are.” He brushed sand off of her hair. “And of course, everything looks prettier in the movies.”

  Her thoughts immediately went to her sex tape. Had it been a Hollywood production, it would have looked beautiful, tastefully done with perfect lighting and limited nudity. But her actions on film had just looked raw, with all the discretion of an accusing politician.

  And she couldn’t help wondering…had David seen it?

  Chapter 9

  David moved through the sand as gracefully as a gazelle. He seemed to be in a hurry to get back to the house, Devin noted. She wished he’d slow down a little. For one, it was difficult to walk on the soft sand, and David’s legs were a lot longer than hers, making for longer strides. But what really worried her was what would happen when they got back inside. The type of kiss they’d just shared usually continued naked on a bed, and while she couldn’t deny wanting to have sex with David, she felt it would be unwise. The white girls he brought out here probably didn’t get naked within just a few hours, and damn it, she wasn’t going to, either.

  She was practically hyperventilating when they reached the narrow boardwalk. He captured her hand and cautioned her to watch her step when it ended by turning sharply downward into the sand. Devin expected him to release her hand after that, but he held it all the way to the back door, letting it go only to pick up a hose, which he playfully aimed at her feet. She squealed at the shock of cold water on her ankles and feet.

  David rinsed his feet as well, then removed hand towels from a cabinet, which they used to dry off. He chuckled. “We wouldn’t want the housekeeper to quit if there’s sand tracked all through the house when she comes in on Monday. I’ll give you a plastic bag to put your clothes in, and a bathrobe to put on. When you’re all done, I’ll show you the laundry room.”

  Devin instantly began to feel more comfortable. For a moment she thought he might suggest they shower together. “Okay.” She patted her wet hair. “Do you have some shampoo?”

  “There should be a variety of shampoos and conditioners in the vanity in your bathroom. A hair dryer, too.”

  “What about your bathroom? Is there shampoo there?” The last thing she wanted was for him to knock on the bathroom door asking for shampoo while she was naked.

  “Yeah, all the bathrooms are stocked.”

  *****

  Devin, freshly showered with her hair washed and conditioned, blew her hair dry. She chuckled, remembering how she’d strongly considered going to the salon for a blowout to have her tresses—which were too thick and bushy to be worn loose—straightened into silkiness, like those of the white girls David surely dated. Only a strong desire to be her natural bushy-haired self stopped her from making an appointment. And, considering what had just happened on the beach, it was just as well that she hadn’t gone through with a silk press; it would have gotten ruined. She’d come out of the bathroom looking like a completely different woman, and David no doubt would be puzzled by the change in her hair texture.

  Devin stepped out of the bathroom barefoot, wearing a large white robe made from terrycloth so soft it felt as if she were wrapped in a huge towel, her wet hair wrapped in a towel, carrying the plastic bag that held her clothes. “David?” she called. “Where are you?”

  “Hey.” He emerged from the bedroom across from hers, wearing a plaid shirt and tan shorts with his flip-flops. His hair was obviously wet, looking darker than usual. “All set for the washer?”

  “Yes.” She held up the bag…and clutched at the front closure of her robe a little tighter.

  “Here it is.” The laundry room was right next to the bathroom where she’d just showered. She’d noticed it earlier, but had to force herself not to gawk when David pulled out what she’d thought was a storage drawer at the bottom of the front-loading washer but was actually a mini washer. It was perfect to wash a few items. She’d never seen anything like that before.

  “That’s pretty neat,” she said. Pointing her chin at the dryer pedestal, she said, “Is that a mini-dryer, too?”

  “No, just storage. Go ahead and put your clothes in.”

  She did as he asked, careful to put in her bra and panties first and cover them with her Capris and sweater so he wouldn’t see them. She wasn’t ready for that type of intimacy.

  *****

  The afternoon was one of the most pleasant Devin could remember. After they changed clothes—David put on a pair of khakis and a golf shirt she suspected he kept here at the house—they went to the tennis court, where he gave her her first tennis lesson. When he went to stand behind her to instruct her on the proper way to grip the tennis racket and serve, her heart began to race, and she didn’t care if he could tell or not. This was heaven, and she never wanted it to end.

  After tennis, they got back in the car and drove to Southampton, where they strolled along the famous shopping district of Jobs Lane (she learned it was pronounced “Jobe’s”). She and David browsed in the different boutiques and other shops. She decided to buy a T-shirt, choosing a simple one in navy with white underlined lettering that simply said The Hamptons. David insisted on buying it for her. “You should have something tangible to remind you of this weekend,” he said.

  Devin was all for that. She loved the idea of wearing something that showed everyone, people she knew as well as strangers, that she’d experienced Eastern Long Island in all its glory.

  They wrapped up the afternoon by taking bikes out of the garage and going for a ride through the tiny town of Quogue. Devin didn’t see a single brown face, something she refrained from commenting on. She knew there had to be blacks and Latinos around somewhere…somebody had to keep all these beach mansions clean, and even if white women worked as housekeepers—plenty of Mama’s fellow maids at the Four Seasons were white—with there being so many rich folks out this way, there was probably plenty of work to go around.

  They were happily exhausted when they returned to the house and put the bikes away. “Why don’t we just chill for a couple of hours before we go to dinner?” David suggested.

  “That’s fine with me.”

  *****

  They changed clothes before going to dinner. Devin pinned her hair into a bun atop her head and put on her sundress, her shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She applied simple makeup of just blusher and lipstick. David wore tan khakis, a navy polo shirt and a navy blazer, the kind with brass buttons that was standard for rich folks. She loved the way he looked at her, shaking his head from side to side and smiling, as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world. Oddly, he said nothing.

  “Everything okay?” she prompted.

  “More than okay. With you on my arm, I’m going to be the envy of every man who sees me.”

  “You’re sweet.”

  “And you’re gorgeous. Um…I thought we’d go to Lulu’s in Sag Harbor. They’ve got great lobster, and we can sit outside if you don’t think it’s too cold.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine. We’ll have to have a drink to toast our success, and there’s nothing like alcohol to take the chill off.”

  Devin had heard of Sag Harbor, which was quite popular with wealthy blacks who didn’t go to the Vineyard. She didn’t know until they arrived that it was actually located on a bay rather than on the ocean. She never expected to go there herself, but here she was. She found herself wishing the summer season had already begun, rather than it being a few weeks before the official kick-off, so she could be seen by more than the handful of brown faces she saw, even if she didn’t know who they were any more than they knew who she was.

  They sat on the open terrace in front of the restaurant, one row of tables between them and the comfortably chilly night air. Devin took David’s recommendation and ordered a grilled lobster, and he had a skirt steak. David ordered drinks for a toast, and as she predicted, the liquor in the specialty cocktail she requested—a concoction featuring Campari, tequila
, ginger, grapefruit juice, and soda—warmed her blood, as did memories of kissing David in the sand.

  “This has been a memorable day for me,” she told him truthfully.

  “I’m sorry it wasn’t warmer. We could have ridden out to Montauk for dinner. The sunsets out there are glorious. Nothing but water, as far as you can see.”

  “I’ll bet.” She noticed he hadn’t said that they would do it one day, only that he regretted the weather wasn’t cooperating this one time. She chased the thought away, determined to live for the moment and not for what might have been.

  The sky started to rumble as they were ordering dessert, an apple crisp for two with vanilla ice cream sprinkled with brown sugar. Devin enjoyed the intimacy of eating off of a single plate. The apples and crust practically melted in her mouth. “Mmm, delicious.”

  As they finished, she reached out, napkin in hand, and used it to brush away some crumbs and melted ice cream off the corner of his mustache. “Have you always worn a mustache and beard?” she asked as she brushed it off.

  “No. Just for the past year or so. I wanted a different look.”

  Devin didn’t tell him how the facial hair drew attention to his lips. Instead her heart stopped momentarily when he turned his head to kiss the back of her finger. His lips felt warm, and his gaze when he looked back at her full of sensuality.

  His gesture made her drip between her legs.

  After he paid the check, they dashed for the car, parked a few doors down Main Street. Large raindrops fell on them at a steadily accelerating pace; they made it back to the car just as the sky opened up and the rain came down in sheets.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” she prompted. “What’re you thinking about?”

  He sighed. “If you want to know the truth, that long drive home.”

  Devin had been thinking about it, too. “David, to be honest, I’m not keen myself on making that drive in this rain. Plus, you did have two Jack Daniels.” She chuckled. “Of course, I only had one drink, and I’d offer to drive…except I don’t know how.”