If This World Were Mine

by E. Lynn Harris

  “Yes, I am. John is downstairs waiting on me,” I said.

  “I didn’t know he was in town,” Leland said.

  “I didn’t either until a few moments ago. He surprised me. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “I guess,” Leland said. He really sounded depressed, but he was usually so strong. Whatever was bothering him could wait until tomorrow, when I would try and cheer him up.

  “Do you want me to ask him about his friend Raymond?” I asked.

  “Raymond? What friend? What are you talking about?” Leland asked.

  “Didn’t I tell you about John’s good-looking friend we ran into when he was here? The one that’s gay,” I said. “Remember I told you how fine he was.”

  “Naw, I don’t remember. But don’t worry about it. My plate is full,” Leland said.

  “I gotta run, Leland. Who knows? This night might be the night,” I said cheerfully.

  “Yolanda.”

  “Yes?”

  “Be careful. Please be careful,” he said sadly. I started to ask him what he meant, but I just said, “I’m always careful. You know that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  When I got downstairs, David opened the door to the limo, and there he was, John Henderson, looking so handsome with a big smile on his face and pink roses in his hands. After the day I had endured, the smell of roses delighted me.

  “Hey, sweet-lips. Looks like we’re off on another adventure,” he said.

  “But, John, no out-of-town trips. I’ve got meetings tomorrow,” I said.

  “I promise to keep it local. Get in,” he instructed.

  I threw my bags to the floor of the limo and climbed in the plush backseat. Inside, John greeted me with a soft, simple kiss and then pulled me closer with a deeper kiss and definitely more tongue. He tasted and smelled great. His breath smelled of cinnamon and he was wearing cologne. John was dressed in a symphony of blue. Cobalt-blue silk pants and a matching shirt. I suddenly wondered what he was wearing under all his blue. Maybe tonight I would find out.

  John had made reservations at one of Chicago’s most popular restaurants, Lola’s, a place I had heard of but had never been. When I asked him how he knew about Lola’s, he said the concierge at his hotel had recommended it. As we drove over toward Wells Street, I enjoyed looking at John and a spectacular autumn sunset coming in through the clear sunroof. The sky was painted with coral and gold colors that were creeping into the heavens. I wasn’t able to enjoy the view for long, because minutes later David was opening the back door.

  I was impressed the moment I walked into Lola’s. It was a forties-style supper club that had the feeling of a sexy theatrical production. I felt sexy although I was still wearing the buttermilk-white suit I had worn all day. There were murals on the walls, palm-leaf chandeliers, and golden ringtail monkeys accenting the bar, while a soaring ceiling crowned the main room. The crowd was mixed with both Black and white people, I noticed Allison Payne of WGN (Dwight’s favorite) and Jon Kelly (my personal favorite), one of Chicago’s handsome sportscasters talking at the bar with another lady I didn’t recognize. I started to go over and introduce myself, but I didn’t want to talk business. My John walked up to the hostess stand, whispered something to a beautiful brunette, and moments later we were seated at a velvet booth in the back of the crowded restaurant.

  We hadn’t been seated for longer than a minute when a waiter came up and welcomed us to Lola’s and asked what we wanted to drink.

  “I’ll have a brandy and the lady will have the same,” John said.

  “No alcohol for me. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I’ll just have cranberry and club soda with a twist of lime,” I said.

  “Are you sure? Maybe just a glass of wine?” the waiter asked.

  “Yeah, come on, Yolanda. Just a glass of wine,” John said.

  “No, I think I’ll stick with the cranberry juice. Maybe I’ll have some wine a little later,” I said. The waiter told us about the specials and John ordered oysters and salads and instructed the waiter to give us a few minutes before we ordered. He laid the menu facedown, and looked me in the eye and said, “So … you glad to see me?”

  “Of course, I’m always glad to see you. But why didn’t you tell me? Do you have another assignment in the area? Is that why you’re here?”

  “No. The only assignment I have is to make sure my lady has the evening of her life. I’m here to please you and you alone,” he said.

  “I see. But what is it going to cost me?” I teased.

  “Nuthin’ but your heart,” John said as he took my hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it ever so gently. I was getting weak and was thankful I was sitting down.

  “Have you heard any more from ESPN? Are they going to give you another assignment soon?” I asked.

  “They’ve talked to my agent. But, come on, Yolanda, no business tonight. I just want to concentrate on you,” he said, and he lifted my hand and kissed it, and then gave me the most irresistible smile.

  After a wonderful meal of lobster and asparagus, all I wanted to do was crawl in my bed and sleep. But I could tell John had other things on his mind. I suggested that we go to my place, but he said his hotel, the Tremont, was only a few minutes away and that I had promised to have at least a glass of wine. So I agreed to go back to his hotel room with him for a glass of wine, mind you. We cuddled up in the back of the limo and toasted the evening with plastic cups of sparkling water the limo company provided. He put his big strong arms around my shoulders, and I laid my head on his firm chest. We rode the rest of the way in silence. There was no need for words. It was all so right, so perfect.

  The limo slowed as it came to the front of the hotel’s luxurious lobby. David got out and came around to open our door. John exited first, and I saw him hand the driver a single folded bill and then dismiss him for the evening. I was thinking I would take a taxi back to my office for my car, but I was also thinking I was exactly where I wanted to be, with the man I wanted to be with.

  When we walked into the small but elegant suite, I noticed a platter of fresh fruit, a bottle of champagne, sparkling apple cider, and Evian. John read the white note card and smiled. “The management’s glad I’m here,” he said.

  “Where’s the rest room?” I asked. John pointed to an open door and I took my bag and went in and freshened my makeup. When I came out, John was on one knee in front of the fireplace. A fireplace I hadn’t noticed.

  “That’s so romantic. Too bad it’s not cold enough to use the fireplace,” I said.

  “Says who? Wait a few minutes. I’ve cranked up the air conditioner. Trust me, it will be cold enough in a matter of minutes,” he said as he stood. The fire began to blaze, and the warm glow framed his stunning physique. He was one handsome man.

  John dimmed the lights, took my hand in his, and walked us over to the pearl-gray sofa in front of the fireplace. He clasped his hands behind my back and gently embraced me. He was so tender.

  “Yolanda,” he whispered in my ear. “My beautiful Yolanda.” He said my name like he was tasting each syllable. He licked my ear-lobe, then traced the outline of my ear with his tongue. He softly blew on my ear, then I felt his tongue on my neck. He kissed my neck ever so lightly and lowered his hands to my hips. I buried my face into the curve of his neck.

  “Ooh, Yolanda,” he said as he kissed my face and cupped my ass in his powerful hands. “Is everything you got this tight, baby?”

  I pushed back from him slightly and began to unbutton his shirt. When his shirt slipped open and I felt the smoothness of his skin I was so ready, but I reminded myself to make sure the condom comes out before the penis goes up. He grabbed my hands in his.

  “Naw, baby, tonight’s your night. Let me do this for you.” He asked me to guide his hands wherever I’d like. I placed them on my stomach and slid them slowly up to my chest. He massaged my breasts gently at first, then held them firmly. He bent down and sucked my nipples through my blouse, leaving wet circles on the pale blue silk. The
skin around my nipples tingled and tightened.

  He tilted my chin up toward him and kissed me so long and so good that I didn’t realize he’d removed my blouse until it fell at my feet. I could feel his proud erection through his slacks.

  “Take it all off, baby. I want to see you.”

  I kicked off my shoes, then reached under my skirt and removed my panty hose. John wrapped his arm around my waist and unzipped my skirt, then stepped back as it dropped silently to the floor. He walked over to me and unhooked my bra, and my breasts fell free in the warm air of the room.

  “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

  I stood there naked except for my French-cut bikini panties. The heat of the fire was at my back and the glow of John’s smile before me. I felt so beautiful.

  He placed one hand on my shoulder and turned me around. “Damn, damn, damn, baby. Look at you.” He pressed himself to me, and I could feel him behind me unbuckling, then stepping out of his slacks so fast that he almost fell. I cupped my mouth to keep from laughing. John’s shirt fell beside my blouse, and I could feel his muscular chest on my bare back. He reached around and rubbed the palms of his hands across my erect nipples. I threw my head back against him and slid his hands down between my legs.

  John dropped to his knees and pulled my panties down with his teeth. He turned me toward him and nuzzled his face in the soft down of my pubic hair. When his tongue found the spot, I thought I was going to pass out.

  He rose to his feet and led my trembling body to the sofa. He sat and pulled me toward him.

  “Come here, Yolanda.” I started to sit beside him. “Naw, baby, sit here. Sit your beautiful ass right here.” He stroked himself with one hand. I could see the head of his penis protruding from the elastic waistband of the body-fitting briefs he wore. He stood and slipped his briefs off with his free hand, then pulled me to him. My heart was pounding at seeing him completely nude, his ass the perfect curve.

  “I don’t want to spoil the moment,” I said, “but you do have a condom, don’t you?”

  “Back in a flash,” he said as he raced naked into the adjoining bedroom. I decided to surprise him, so I followed him, and when he turned with the packaged condom in his mouth, I slowly removed it and kissed him softly—loving the citrus-like smell of him. We moved toward the bed, and I watched him place the condom on his still-erect penis. He then moved his body on top of mine in a motion so fluid, it seemed choreographed. It was like our whole bodies were kissing as I opened my legs and he pressed the weight of his body inside me so deeply, it felt as though he had located my center and then some.

  “Does it feel good, Yolanda?” he panted as our bodies rose and fell in unison. “It feels good to you! Don’t it, baby? Tell me how it feels, baby. You like having all this man inside of you? Tell me, baby.”

  We rode to ecstasy, twisting and turning, and arrived at the same time. I shouted out his name, “Oh, John, John … John,” as one sexual wave followed another until I was totally spent. I collapsed breathless onto John’s sweaty chest. And though I replayed it in my mind in slow motion—each kiss, each touch—I knew we had entered the room only minutes before. I had to smile at John’s smoothness, and my entire body was flooded by his tenderness and compassion.

  As the two of us nestled in the luxury of the king-sized bed covered with crisp ivory sheets, I whispered, “Thank you, John Basil Henderson.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Yolanda,” he whispered back in his silky voice. “The best is still to come.”

  Chapter 16

  Friday, I tried to reach Yolanda after each patient. No luck. She wasn’t answering at home and Monica said she didn’t expect her in the office until later. I was so preoccupied with trying to reach Yolanda that I’d forgotten that my next patient was Taylor. Today his clothing looked neatly pressed, and he seemed a lot calmer than when I’d seen him earlier in the week. The increased dosage of his medication was helping, he said. When he voiced a lingering concern about running into Basil again, I took it as an opening to get more information.

  “What would you say to him if you did run into him?”

  “I don’t know,” Taylor said.

  “Are you sure? It sounds like you’re still harboring a great deal of anger,” I said.

  “This motherfucker ruined my life,” he said.

  “Do you take any responsibility for allowing him to do this,” I asked gently.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You did enter the relationship on your own free will, right?” I thought Taylor’s paranoia and denial might be exaggerating Basil’s cruelty in the situation, so I wanted him to see his role in the affair very clearly.

  “I guess so. It’s just that I didn’t know what kind of person he was. If I had, I never would have given him a second look,” Taylor said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s not just that he played with my emotions. He became mean about it. Even when I agreed to do what he wanted.”

  “Explain.” Maybe Taylor would contradict himself. Again I was hoping Basil wasn’t as evil as Taylor made him sound.

  “Before his case even hit my docket, he would call my house, and when my wife answered, he would hang up. When he called and I answered, he would tell me that he wanted me to know he could reach me whenever he wanted.”

  “What did he mean by that?”

  “He didn’t have my phone number. I mean, I didn’t give him my number. It’s unlisted. When we got together, I either called or paged him. He knew I was married, so he understood. The first time I heard his voice on the other end of my home phone, I almost lost it,” Taylor said.

  “Did you ask him how he got your number?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did he say?”

  “ ‘I have my ways.’ ”

  “Taylor, have you thought any more about resuming your marriage?”

  “Yes, but my wife wants to make sure I’m cured,” he said softly.

  “Cured?” I knew what he meant, but I wanted him to put it in his own words. It still amazed me that so many intelligent folk thought somebody could be “cured” of their sexuality.

  “Yes. She says she won’t even consider taking me back unless I can promise her that I will never sleep with another man. That this phase of my life is over.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “I love my wife,” he said firmly.

  “Okay, but what if you run into Basil again or someone like him?”

  “There’s nobody out there like Basil Henderson.” He paused. “Nobody.” When he spoke again, his voice was earnest and calm. “It’s almost like he has some secret, eerie powers. You can see it in his eyes. If you met him, you’d know what I’m talking about.”

  “Did you practice safe sex?”

  “For the most part. I didn’t always with the oral stuff,” Taylor said.

  “Let’s forget about Basil Henderson for a minute. What if you meet another man and find yourself attracted to him? What are you going to do then?”

  “I won’t allow anything to happen. I have control over that now. I’ll stay away from certain places. If a man gives me the look, I’ll turn away. I want to save my marriage and what’s left of my career.”

  “Would you go back on the bench? You took a leave of absence, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but I couldn’t put the robe back on, knowing what I’ve done. I’m not worthy of the robe or the faith people put in me.” I started to ask Taylor would he feel that way if he was “cured,” but I didn’t.

  “Maybe you’re being too hard on yourself. Though I don’t think you’ve faced up to the real problem,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Dealing with your bisexuality,” I said. Looking over my notes on Taylor, I had noticed how much he had talked about what his family and peers would think. How important his marriage was for appearance’s sake. Earlier he told me how much he loved his son, and how his wife had threatened to keep him away from his ch
ild unless he got some help.

  “I kept it in check for all those years, I can do it again,” Taylor said. “I can find other ways to satisfy that side of me,” he added confidently.

  “How so?”

  “You know, I have a porn collection I used to keep in my office. I gave it to a friend for safekeeping. I can look without touching,” he said. We didn’t have enough time to pursue how empty that might prove in the long run. So I focused on what was working for him at this moment.

  “So the medication is helping?”

  “Yeah, I don’t feel so helpless.” I looked at my watch and realized Taylor’s time was up. I still hadn’t gotten any information that would help me with regard to Yolanda.

  “Good, that’s good. Taylor, I see here in your records you haven’t taken another HIV test since you’ve been back in Chicago. Is that still true?”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “Don’t you think maybe you should?”

  “I can’t deal with that right now. Besides, we always practiced safe sex and Basil told me he was HIV-negative.”

  “Can you trust this Basil guy on something so important?”

  “I guess not. But isn’t oral sex safe without a condom?”

  “The verdict is still out on that. You don’t have to make a decision right now. Just think about it,” I said.

  Taylor stood and stretched his long, thin arms. “I’m not making any promises, Doc, but I’ll think about it.”

  I stood up and opened the door. “Do that,” I said. Maybe there was hope for Taylor. When I walked him into the reception area, the receptionist said she had a message from Yolanda canceling our regular Friday-evening date.

  “Was that all she said?” I asked her.

  “Yes, Dr. Thompson.”

  “How did she sound?”

  “Excuse me?” she asked with a puzzled look on her face.

  “I’m sorry, did she sound okay to you?”

  “She sounded very happy. Like a woman in love, if you ask me,” she said cheerfully.

  Let’s pray you’re wrong, I thought.