Panzina's Passion

by Teresa D. Patterson

  “Here we go,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “I’ve been checking you out for quite some time.”

  Is this bitch a stalker?

  “I see that you’ve been teaching for fifteen years. That’s quite a while.”

  What? Did I miss something?

  “Um...teaching?” she asked, hesitantly.

  “Yes, you’ve been a teacher for fifteen years, right?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes. I have.”

  So, where is he going with this?

  “That’s remarkable. It requires strength and dedication. You obviously have both.”

  “This really is a business meeting?” The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

  Mr. Johnson smirked. “What did you think it would be? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t bend women over my desk on the state’s time. I have a job to do and that’s what I aim to do. This school is suffering and I’m going to make sure that there’s a noticeable improvement in the upcoming months. I don’t play when it comes to children and education.” He lifted a file from his desk. “And from what I’ve read, you don’t either. That’s why I have an offer for you.”

  Now Greta’s interest was peaked. “What type of an offer?”

  “Unfortunately, Mrs. Niles will no longer be the assistant principal, for reasons I don’t care to disclose at this moment. She’ll be leaving at the end of this month. Therefore, there will be a vacancy.” He paused and stared at her intensely. “I’d like for you to fill it.”

  Greta’s mouth dropped. Surprise couldn’t even describe what she felt. This was totally unexpected.

  “Ma’am, you may want to close your mouth. We wouldn’t want a fly to land in there,” he joked.

  She cleared her throat. It took a minute to pull it together. But, it wasn’t long before she was once again the professional, debonair woman who radiated confidence.

  “Mr. Johnson, I appreciate your offer. I’ll think it over and get back with you. When do you need a decision?”

  “I was pushing for one by the next PSTA meeting. That will give you two weeks time.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be able to let you know something before then,” she said politely.

  “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Stevenson.”

  “You’re welcome.” Their eyes met and she was the first to look away. She cleared her throat. “Well, if that’s all, I’ll be heading to the classroom.”

  “Yes, that’s all I can think of.” She got up to leave. He waited until she made it to the door. “Oh— Mrs. Stevenson?” She turned just in time to catch the glint in his eyes. “Thanks for last night,” he said mischievously. “I’ll never dread doing laundry again.” He gave her a half-smile, half-smirk.

  She stared at his desk picturing the two of them on it. Having him bend her over that desk wasn’t such a bad idea. As a matter-of-fact, it was quite appealing. She blushed and quickly left his office before she ended up making a fool of herself.

  Chapter Three

  Greta sat grading papers. She wanted to be finished by nine o’clock because Criminal Minds which featured that fine actor, Shemar Moore would be coming on. She knew there was no chance in hell of her ever meeting the man, but every opportunity she got she drooled over him like a damn groupie.

  Of course her phone had to ring and break her concentration. It seemed like every time she got busy, it rang off the hook.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey Girl. What you doin’?” It was Cindy, her oldest and dearest friend. Cindy was a straight up trip and she always enjoyed talking with her.

  “Grading papers. What else.”

  “Girl, why don’t you throw them damn papers to the side and hang out wit’ me tonight?”

  “Hang out where? Child, now you know I don’t set foot in these ghetto-fied, dirty foot clubs in St. Pete.”

  “Are you implyin’ that I do, skank? “

  “Nah, girl. I was just saying.” They both laughed.

  “Let me finish. I’ve been chattin’ wit’ this nigga on MySpace and now we’re supposed to meet up. But, I don’t wanna meet him by myself.”

  “Have you lost your fucking mind? What the hell are you doing wasting time on MySpace? Your ass is supposed to be working, not playing around on those people’s computer.” She knew that Cindy was on MySpace all the time because sometimes she checked MySpace from her laptop and Cindy’s light would always be lit up.

  “The state can kiss my ass. They don’t pay me enough to entice me to become an exemplary employee. I stay on the computer: MySpace, BlackPlanet, Facebook, Match.com and Black Singles. I’m tryin’ to find another damn husband. Anyways, like I was sayin’. I wanna meet this nigga, but I don’t wanna go alone. You down or what? Oh, and the club is in Tampa, not slow, tired ass St. Pete.”

  “What club?” Tampa had some raunchy clubs too.

  “It’s the Blue Martini in International Plaza.”

  “Oh, I like that club. It’s upscale and elite.”

  “I knew yo’ bourgeois, snobbish ass would. So, you goin’ or what?” she asked again.

  “Yeah, I guess I’ll go. I’m just not going to hang out all night. You know I have to be refreshed to teach a class full of kids.”

  “Hell, dealin’ wit’ them crumb snatchers ought to drive you to drinkin’.”

  “I know that’s right. So, what time you coming or should I drive?” She knew how Cindy got. The woman could drink any man she knew under the table. And talk about getting buck wild and turning a club out. Lord have mercy.

  “I’m drivin’. I promise to stick to two drinks. I don’t wanna get too vulnerable. The guy might turn out to be an ax murder or somethin’ and I might have to drop kick that nigga in the throat.”

  “Damn, sis. You can take the bitch out the hood, but you can’t take the hood out the bitch.”

  “And you know that shit,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m Jordan Park projects in and out, all up and through.” They had both grown up in the projects known as Jordan Park and had been friends since attending Jordan Park Elementary.

  “Should I bring my pepper spray, just in case?”

  “That watered down shit. You might as well just poke a bitch in the eye with two fingers.” Greta heard a male’s voice in the background. She assumed Cindy’s husband had arrived home. “I’ll be there between 9:30 and 10:00,” Cindy said.

  “Make it ten. That’ll give me time to do something with my hair.”

  “You betta throw on a wig or slap on a drawstring ponytail like I do.”

  “I don’t do the ponytails and wigs look too fake.”

  “Not the one I’m gonna wear.”

  “Which one is that? You got so many,” she said sarcastically.

  “Girl, I’m gonna pimp my Beverly Johnson, color #4, style Oprah,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  She had Greta rolling. “You are a trip. Girl, I will see you when you get here. Let me get off this phone and finish up these papers so I can get ready.”

  “Okay. And don’t call my ass in thirty minutes sayin’ you ain’t goin’,” she warned.

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  “Alright then. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  * * *

  “This club had better be jumping. You made me miss the last half hour of Criminal Minds,” Greta told Cindy. They were just getting off the exit that would take them directly into International Plaza.

  “You don’t care nothin’ ‘bout that show. You just watch it to see Shemar Moore. He be wearin’ the hell outta that FBI shirt and vest. That nigga is fione.”

  “Mouth-watering.”

  “Tasty.”

  “Scrumptious.”

  “Damn, you makin’ me want some dick,” Cindy exclaimed.

  “You got Greg at home. You shouldn’t ever be in need of dick.”

  “Ple-ease,” she drugged the word out. “Why the hell you think I’m out here on the prowl? Greg has been havin’ a little malfunction pro
blem as of late.”

  “What? You mean his dick can’t get hard? Don’t lie.”

  “I’m dead ass serious. And the muthafucka won’t go get a checkup. Talkin’ ‘bout his male pride.”

  “Well, what about you? Doesn’t he care that he’s not able to satisfy you?”

  Cindy shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Apparently not enough to get a checkup.”

  “I know you want me to say that I understand. But, I don’t. Cheating is never an option when you’re married,” Greta said seriously.

  “Bitch, what the hell do you know?” She swung into a vacant parking space. “Your dried up ass need to get some damn dick. That shit is going to turn into the motherfucking Sahara Desert.”

  ”How you know I didn’t get some?” Greta replied hotly, gathering her purse and checking her hair in the mirror. Her heartbeat increased just from remembering her heated night of passion with the principal. She wasn’t going to tell Cindy though.

  “From who? You don’t even date. You stay locked in the house. You rarely go anywhere. When did you find time to meet anybody? At church?” She whirled around to stare into her face. “Don’t tell me you done fucked that fine ass pastor at that church you go to from time to time?”

  “Girl, no. Don’t I wish,” she answered truthfully.

  “Hell, I’d do him in a heartbeat. I bet he have all the women creamin’ in their panties every Sunday.”

  “Now, you are going to hell for that one.” Greta shook her head, chuckling. “He is devoted to God and by the look of things he’s going to stay that way.”

  “Maybe he’s gay and is just hiding behind the church.”

  “I don’t know. He was married before and has children. Maybe he had a bad experience and that’s what made him turn to God.”

  “A bitch can do that to a brother. We have some seriously deranged bitches in Da Burg, you hear me?” Cindy switched the car off and removed the keys from the ignition. “Well, this nigga better be here. Look for someone Hispanic, wearin’ a black shirt and beige slacks. He says he’ll have on a black Onyx ring.”

  “That could be any damn body.”

  “He’s about five eight, with a nice body. He claims to be a body builder.”

  “Okay. Lead the way and I’ll follow. Didn’t he send you a picture?”

  “Yeah, but that bitch was blurry. I couldn’t really make out his features.”

  Greta just shook her head and followed Cindy into the club. They both wore form-fitting dresses that were sexy, but conservative. Neither of them wanted to advertise like they were gold-diggers or hookers.

  When they entered, Greta looked around. The club’s environment was more than satisfactory. On one side of the club they played hip-hop and they played reggaeton on the other side. Cindy got into it right away after ordering a drink. She found her way to the center of the dance floor and started dancing like Halle Berry in the movie BAPS.

  Greta was content to stand off to the side and watch. She sipped on some Seagram’s and sprite. She saw a group of women crowded around a fine brother. From the way the women carried on, she figured he played for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Members of the team frequented The Blue Martini.

  Whoever the player was, he appeared to be bewildered and uncomfortable. It wasn’t long before he got up and left. The crowd of gold-diggers stood with their mouths wide open in shock.

  “No he didn’t,” one of them said.

  “He ain’t all that.”

  “He must think his shit doesn’t stink.”

  Greta found it all amusing. They needed to stop fronting. They were just mad because he wasn’t interested in any of them.

  “Hey, sexy,” someone breathed against her earlobe. “Can I refresh that drink?” She turned to see Larry Newsome standing there.

  “Hey, Larry.” She smiled and gave him a quick hug. “I would let you buy me another one, but I think this is going to be it for tonight.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Greta gazed out toward the dance floor and saw Cindy doing some stripper type dance. Where the hell had she learned that?

  “I’m sure,” she said. “I may have to drive home.”

  “Well, how about a dance later on?” Larry asked.

  “I’ll think about it, Lar,” she said politely. She didn’t want to turn him down flat. Larry was a nice guy. He was handsome, witty, and smart. She just didn’t want to get involved with him and she could tell that he was more than a little interested in her. Why lead him on?

  “I hope your answer will be yes,” he said smoothly then walked off.

  Greta put her empty glass onto the counter. A song by Akon and Snoop Dog blasted out the speakers and everybody in the club seemed to come alive. The dance floor went from semi-empty to overly-crowded in mere seconds.

  I see you windin’ and grindin’ up on that pole. And I see you lookin’ at me and you already know. I wanna fuck you.

  “What?” Greta couldn’t believe the lyrics blasting from the loud speakers. It seemed that the more vulgar the lyrics got, the more hype the crowd became. She knew there was a reason why she didn’t frequent nightclubs anymore.

  People were gyrating, bumping, grinding and pulling it down. They were popping, twirking and shaking everything God and their mamas gave them. It was just too much for her system to handle.

  “Hey. Greta, I found him,” Cindy said breathlessly, pulling on the arm of a very attractive Hispanic guy. “This is my best friend, Greta,” she introduced. “Greta, this is Diego.”

  “Hello, Diego.”

  “Hello.” They nodded at each other politely.

  “Diego, I’ll be right back.” Cindy said, and pulled Greta in the direction of the bathroom because they couldn’t carry on a conversation over the loud music.

  “Girl, I gotta get wit’ this fine ass man,” she said. “He’s gonna follow us home.”

  “What? You can’t take him to your place. Isn’t Greg home?”

  “Yes Greg’s flat foot ass is home. I know I can’t take him there. I’m going to take you home and leave my car at your place. Then, me and Diego are leaving in his car and we gonna get a room.”

  “Cindy. Why don’t you at least wait until you two go out a few times?” She hadn’t waited to let Austin Johnson hit it. Who was she to try to tell her friend how long to wait to give her stuff up?

  “Fuck that. I’m horny. Shit, do you realize that I haven’t had any dick in damn near three months?”

  “Shit. That’s a long time. But-”

  “I’m fuckin’ him,” Cindy cut in. “Period.”

  “Okay,” Greta said lowly.

  “So, are you ready to leave?” She checked her hair in the mirror and reapplied her lipstick.

  “Sure. I might as well be.”

  “Don’t have an attitude. You knew why I wanted to come here tonight,” she reminded.

  Greta gave a reluctant nod. “Okay. It’s your business. Just be careful,” she finally said.

  “I will. I got the Trojans and the Magnums- just in case.” She winked suggestively and Greta shook her head. “Now, let me get back to that fine motherfucker before some skank snatches him up.” They headed out of the ladies’ room. “Hey, isn’t that Larry?” Greta turned to look where Cindy pointed.

  “Yeah, I spoke to him earlier. He wanted to get a dance before I left. I guess he’ll have to wait on that another time.”

  “I don’t know why you don’t get wit’ him. He’d probably be good for you. Y’all have similar interests,” Cindy said.

  “I don’t know. There’s just something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

  They rejoined Diego at the bar. Cindy slipped her arms around the lucky man. Greta could admit that Diego was quite handsome and even though small in stature, his body was chiseled. When he finished his drink, the three of them headed for the exit.

  As Greta, Cindy and her newfound friend left the club, Larry stared behind them. His face tightened and he got a strange look in
his eye. Suddenly, he slammed the glass he’d been drinking from onto the counter top.

  Trifling bitches. They are all alike.

  “Sir, would you like another drink?” The bartender asked nervously.

  “No. I’m good.” He gave her a cold look. “What you doing after you get off?”

  “I’m engaged,” she said, wiggling her left hand and the ring in the air. She quickly turned her attention to another customer.

  “As if that matters,” Larry muttered. “Married, engaged, in a relationship—that shit don’t matter. If a bitch wants to fuck, a bitch is gonna get some outside dick.”