Cheesecake and Teardrops

by Faye Thompson

  Finally Nate spoke. “So,” he began. “How long have you been with Freeman?”

  “Eleven years.”

  “And how have you been treated in those eleven years?”

  “I enjoy my job, but I’ve been turned down for the last three promotions I applied for.”

  “Did you think you were the best qualified for the positions?”

  “May I be frank?” she asked him.

  “Absolutely.”

  “I may not spread ’em like butter, but I work my spreadsheets.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard that it’s not what you know, but who you know.”

  “Yes, and apparently sometimes it’s who you do. So watch your back,” she warned him.

  “Off the record, I know all about the state of affairs—pun intended—at Freeman LTD and I was called in to do some housecleaning. On my watch, the best qualified will be rewarded,” Nate said, draining his glass.

  She returned his gaze, refusing to speak. The waitress returned with his medium well prime rib and her grilled chicken. For a moment, they ate in silence.

  “Mmm, this steak is like butter.” He cut her a slice. “Have some.”

  “No, you enjoy it,” she said, slicing her chicken. “I’m fine.”

  They finished their meal and switched gears to talk of the new NBA season. Being a die-hard New Yorker, Charisma insisted that the Knicks had been completely revamped.

  That coupled with their securing the second pick in the draft choice practically clinched a play-off spot.

  “Are you kidding me?” Nate asked her. “I respect your hometown loyalty, but don’t bet on it. I’m going with the Lakers and Miami. Dwyane Wade is no joke.”

  “Dwyane Wade is on the injured list. The Heat don’t have a chance this season.”

  “But don’t forget, it’s early in the season. He has plenty of time to heal,” Nate reminded her.

  “Yeah, before he gets injured again.”

  “Don’t jinx my boy, now. Your Knicks’ll be lucky to reach five hundred, but if you have so much confidence in the Knicks, why don’t we make a little wager. Are you in?”

  “I’m listening,” Charisma said. “A frat brother of mine gave me two tickets to next Saturday’s Knick game.”

  “Against the Lakers?”

  “Exactly. Why don’t you check your schedule, and see if you’re free.”

  “What’s the wager?”

  “If the Knicks win, I’ll buy you dinner. If they lose, you’ll buy me dinner. Is it a deal?”

  “Deal,” she said.

  They finished their meal at Regine’s and headed to Manhattan Proper. Charisma took the Van Wyck Expressway to the Belt Parkway and ended up parking across the street from the Linden Boulevard nightclub. It was well after eight. Of course, at that hour the club was already packed.

  So Charisma and Nate headed straight for the bar. She ordered another apple martini, and he had a gin and tonic.

  “So tell me more about yourself, Charisma,” Nate said.

  “Well, what would you like to know?”

  “A woman as beautiful as you walking around single? What’s wrong with the men in this city?”

  “Did you ever think that maybe I’m single by choice?” she asked.

  “Let me guess. You’re one of those SBW’s. Just what the world needs—another strong black woman.”

  “I detest that phrase. It’s so . . . political.”

  “It is what it is. So why are you still single?”

  “Maybe,” she said, taking a sip of her apple martini, “I just haven’t found the right man.”

  “So what’s your type?”

  “Got an hour?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I want a man who’s sensitive, ambitious, hardworking, family oriented, has a great sense of humor, attractive, and last but not least, can be faithful.”

  “You don’t want much, do you? And I bet he’d have to rock your world in the bedroom too, wouldn’t he?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt.” She smiled, stroking the back of her neck. “Now you see why I’m still single. It’s a tall order to fill, and I’m not about to settle.”

  “Tall? Yes. Impossible? No.”

  First thing Saturday morning Charisma called Tangie and Heather to meet her at IHOP on Rockaway Boulevard in Five Towns. She hadn’t been able to sleep much since she had taken her boss out the other night.

  As usual, the IHOP in Five Towns was packed, but amazingly, they were all able to find parking. Unfortunately, they waited well over half an hour to be seated, but breakfast there was always worth it. Charisma ordered a stack of buttermilk pancakes, turkey sausages, and coffee. It was times like these she was glad she worked out on a regular basis. Tangie ordered a western omelet and Heather had egg whites.

  “I thought we were meeting tonight. What happened?” Tangie asked Charisma.

  “I took my boss out the other night. That’s what happened,” Charisma said.

  “So how did it go?” Heather asked.

  Charisma tilted her head back and slowly exhaled an imaginary cigarette à la Bette Davis. “I can’t believe I’m even giving him a second thought. I must be crazy.” She shook her head.

  “Why?” Heather and Tangie said in unison.

  “Why?” Charisma repeated. “It’s a cardinal rule. Don’t get your honey where you make your money. Especially when your boss is involved.”

  “There you go again, the world according to Charisma.” Heather looked up as the waitress returned with their breakfast.

  “I’m sorry, but I just can’t go out like that. It’s not my style.” Charisma poured syrup on her pancakes.

  “Just be open to the possibilities, Charisma. That’s all we’re saying.” Heather dug inside her purse for her diet pills. She placed one in her mouth and washed it down with a couple of sips of water before starting breakfast.

  “You need a real relationship,” Tangie said.

  “You know I’m seeing Dex,” Charisma reminded her.

  “Dex? Please. You and Dex are lovers. You have a lover, Charisma. You don’t have love. There’s a difference. I should know.” Tangie chewed her omelet.

  “For the last time, he’s too close for comfort. He’s off limits. Now, next topic.” Charisma sipped her coffee.

  Heather chose a different strategy. “Now just imagine we were clubbing one Friday night and this fine-looking brother walks up to you and offers to buy you a drink. He’s not wearing a wedding band and neither are you. Do you mean to tell me you’d turn him down without giving him a chance?” Heather asked.

  “No, of course not,” Charisma admitted.

  “That’s what you’re doing to your boss. He can’t help it that he’s your manager. Why punish him? You’re two consenting adults. What you do on your own time is your own business,” Heather insisted.

  “And another thing,” Tangie said, piggybacking off Heather.

  “More people meet their spouses or hook up at work than anywhere else. So what happened on your first date?”

  “It wasn’t a date,” Charisma corrected her. “I was just showing him around.”

  Tangie looked at Heather. “Correction, it was a date,” she said to Heather. Continue,” she told Charisma.

  “We had dinner at Regine’s and drinks at Manhattan Proper,” Charisma said in between chewing turkey sausages.

  “And that’s the whole story?” Tangie grilled her.

  “That’s it,” Charisma said.

  “What time did you get to Manhattan Proper?” Tangie continued.

  Charisma thought for a moment. “A little after eight.”

  “And what time did you get home,” Tangie asked.

  “Around ten-thirty.” Charisma rubbed the back of her neck.

  “Interesting,” Heather said, smiling. “Sounds like a date to me.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll admit it. I had a good time,” Charisma said, smiling.

  “That’s all we wanted to hear.” Tangie retur
ned her smile.

  “Actually, it was fun. I had a better time than I expected. That’s the scary part. Half of me is, don’t you dare, the other half is saying go for it,” Charisma admitted.

  “So you know what you do?” Heather asked without waiting for an answer. “You go for it. What’s the worst that can happen? Right, Tangie?”

  “Right,” Tangie agreed.

  “A lot of help you guys turned out to be.” Charisma shook her head as they finished breakfast. They left a tip for the waitress, put on their jackets, and paid the check. They left the restaurant and stood outside in the November air saying good-bye. Just as they were about to walk to their cars, a black Camry pulled up in the spot next to Charisma and out stepped Nate Arquette.

  “Charisma, how nice.” Nate was casually fine in a pair of freshly ironed blue jeans, an open collar denim shirt, a black leather bomber, and loafers.

  “Hi, Nate. These are my friends, Tangie and Heather. This is my boss, Nate.”

  “Hi,” they all said to each other as Charisma checked out her boss. Finally, she spoke. “We have to get going, Nate. You picked the right spot. Enjoy your breakfast.”

  “Thanks. Nice meeting you both.” He looked at Heather and Tangie, smiling. “See you Monday, Charisma.”

  “Whew! What a reason to get up in the morning,” Heather said under her breath as Charisma got into her car.

  For the rest of the weekend, all Charisma could think of was her boss—as much as she hated to admit it. Sure, he was good-looking and charming, but men like that were a dime a dozen. And if she had a dollar for every man in New York who fit that description, she wouldn’t need her 401(k) plan. Besides, one piece of candy in her candy dish was enough. And that slot was already filled—by Dex. And boy, did he know how to make her drool.

  By the time Monday morning rolled around, Charisma was confident once again that she had everything under control. She found that it was easiest when she stayed out of Nate’s way. She did that as much as possible. In fact, she managed to avoid him all morning long, up until lunchtime.

  It was then that he asked her if she wanted to join him and a few of the other coworkers for a bite to eat. It was a nasty day out, and they were all going down to the cafeteria.

  “No, you go on, Nate,” she told him. “I think I’ll just stay here and read. I just started Jackie Collins’s new novel last night, and I can’t wait to pick up where I left off.”

  “Well, read on, Charisma. Read on.” He smiled.

  The afternoon flew by and before she knew it, it was time to call it a day. She always liked to freshen up before she left the office. You never knew who you might meet on the way home, and you never got a second chance to make a first impression. Unfortunately, Chase Martini, aka Miss Crappuccino, was in the ladies’ lounge mirror as well, applying a fresh coat of war paint.

  “Charisma, you should’ve joined us for lunch. We had a blast. Nate is awesome.”

  Yeah, I know. Your white behind thinks all black men are awesome. Instead, Charisma said, “I’m glad you had a good time.”

  “You know what your problem is, Charisma?” she said, tossing her blond hair.

  “Here it comes, the world according to Chase.”

  “You like to act all nonchalant like you’re not interested in Nate, but I know that half the women in this office have the hots for him—including you. At least I’m honest about my feelings.”

  “Do you know what your problem is?” Charisma didn’t wait for an answer. “You waltzed in here like you’re some freakin’ princess, but you’re nothing but upper-middle ass.”

  “Sounds like a personal problem to me, Charisma. Don’t hate me because I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth and yours was what, plastic? And don’t hate me cause I’m beautiful. Watch me make Nate mine just like I stole those two jobs you wanted from under your nose. Just make sure you take plenty of notes, though, because I work fast and I’m only going to show you once.” She tossed her hair one last time, having perfected the official white girl’s imaginary power move as she left. Charisma secretly hoped she’d snap her neck.

  5

  Heather

  Heather drove out to Ashley Stewart in the Green Acres Mall. She was eager to try on some new clothes, having shed a whopping ten pounds. She walked through the mall checking out the other sisters—their hair, their makeup, their jewelry, their fashion sense. Some things came with a price tag, but when it came to style, Heather knew that hey, either you got it or you don’t. And underneath her body by Häagen-Dazs was a svelte, young thing just itching to get out.

  She walked into Ashley Stewart, fall and winter fashions all around her. A couple of sweaters caught her eye, along with a skirt and some pants. She was ready for the fitting room. Everything fit but the size eighteen black pants, which were a little snug in the thighs. She knew that within a month or so they’d probably fit perfectly, but for now she debated getting them. Her old black wool slacks were so tight that they practically squeaked when she walked. She felt like she could be in a Seinfeld episode. She looked at herself in the mirror one more time before getting dressed, trying to ignore her nose. It didn’t work.

  She was a few feet from the cashier, debating whether or not she should get the pants in a bigger size when someone called her name.

  “Heather Grey. I thought that was you,” an unfamiliar female voice said.

  Heather followed the voice. “Ava Johnson. I haven’t seen you, oh my gosh, since high school,” she said. “And you chopped off your mane.”

  “I had to, girl. My life was too complicated.” Ava was a petite, shapely, medium brown beauty with a short, black boycut.

  Her bangs fell just above her brows, emphasizing her wide-set eyes.

  “You’re still here in New York?” Ava asked her.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So how’ve you been?”

  “Just fine,” Heather said. “How about you?”

  “Oh, I can’t complain, but I’m starving. Wanna grab a bite to eat in the food court?”

  “Sure. Let me pay for these first, and I’ll meet you upstairs,” Heather said. She stood in line for over ten minutes before leaving the store with her purchases, minus the pants. She took the escalator up to the second floor and spotted Ava in the center of the food court.

  “Over here,”Ava said, waving to Heather. Ava’s face hadn’t changed much since Bayside High School. She still had that cute little nose and those adorable dimples.

  Heather sat down opposite Ava and put her bags in the empty chair, anxious to take a load off her slightly swollen ankles. “Why don’t I watch your bags while you get your food,” Heather suggested.

  “You sit. I’ll get yours too. What’s your pleasure?”

  “Are you sure?”

  Ava nodded. “It’s no biggie. Why not?”

  “Okay, I’ll have a grilled chicken sandwich from Burger Hut and a diet 7UP.”

  “You want fries to go with that?” Ava asked her.

  “No fries. I’m trying to get to where you are,” Heather told her. “What were you doing in Ashley Stewart, anyway?”

  Heather reached into her wallet and pulled out a ten-dollar bill for Ava.

  “I go in just to remind myself of how far I’ve come.”

  “How much did you lose?” Heather asked her.

  “Seventy-two pounds.”

  “Amazing.” Heather shook her head.

  “Don’t worry. Your day’ll come,” Ava said before going to get their orders.

  Ava returned a few minutes later with Heather’s order and a Wendy’s double cheeseburger for herself. She barely had time to give Heather her change before sinking her teeth into her burger.

  “I haven’t eaten all day,” Ava said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Once a week I treat myself. So what have you been up to since high school?”

  Heather removed the grilled chicken from the buns. She searched in her purse for her diet pills, popped two in her mouth, and washed them
down with diet soda. “Vitamins,” she explained to Ava before continuing. “Well, I did four years at Howard, got a liberal arts degree, and came back to New York to get my master’s. And you’ll never guess where I’m working.”

  “Where?” Ava asked.

  “The Queens Library as a librarian.”

  “Right off the avenue?”

  Heather nodded.

  “Get outta here. How many afternoons did we spend there working on term papers?”

  “Tell me about it. Now I’m helping others do it.”

  “That’s amazing. So is there anyone special in your life?”

  “No, not at the moment. What about you?” Heather asked.

  “Not unless you count my vibrator,” Ava admitted, and they both burst out laughing.

  “Girl, you are still crazy. You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “You have,” Ava said.

  “How?” Heather asked, taking another bite of her chicken.

  “You were so uptight in high school that tampons looked up to you.” She laughed.

  “Stop it,” Heather said, laughing.

  “You were. What’s your guiltiest pleasure now?”

  “Red Lobster biscuits. One day I got so depressed I went to Red Lobster, ordered a dozen to go, sucked them down, and got sick as a dog.”

  “Girl, my cheddar biscuits are so good, I expect Red Lobster to show up on my doorstep and serve me with papers any day now.”

  “I better watch my back with you,” Heather joked, taking one last gulp of her soda.

  “Let’s keep in touch.” Ava whipped out her cell phone and Heather did the same as they exchanged numbers.

  A week later Heather was busy at work when she had an unexpected visitor—Ava had stopped by to have lunch.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Ava said. “I thought you might wanna have lunch.”

  “Perfect timing,” Heather said. “Let me grab my coat.”

  She disappeared behind one of the doors designated for employees only and returned with her black leather swing coat.

  They decided on Margarita Pizza, one of the best pizzerias in all of Queens. As crowded as it was, Heather managed to get two seats in the rear while Ava waited for their piping-hot slices to come out of the oven. Heather took a swig of the bottled water she kept in her purse, hoping to quiet her growling stomach.