by Unknown
There was a steady flow of tears now and Terrance couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Middle age was taking its toll on her and she was scared stiff of it—of growing old alone but this reckoning did little to dispel what he’d believed since their first encounter. Sylvia Stanton, behind the facade of sophisticated beauty and elegance, had some real, deep-seated emotional problems that were beyond his knowledge and his comprehension. Of one thing, he was certain of now, though: she was, if she hadn’t already had one, was in the midst of having a nervous breakdown. Terrance was quick to notice that faraway look in her eyes she had when they had first made love. It was back now and she didn’t seem cognizant. Again, there were the unintelligible mutterings and incoherent sounds. She slumped to the floor and then rose just as quickly and picked up the Essence magazine that was amongst the mail on the table and began leafing through it like woman possessed, when she finished, she began again. Terrance was frightened now. From time to time, she would look up and stare at him as if she were trying to figure out why this strange man was in her home. It was almost as if she were trying to place this face, to recognize him. At other times, she would stare directly at him but it was obvious that she didn’t or couldn’t see him. And then as if nothing had happened, she jumped as if a pot were burning on the kitchen stove, grabbed her robe from the hall closet and wrapped it around her.
“Terrance, darling, would you be so kind as to pour me a stiff drink, please. I’m not sure if there’s any Chivas Regal left. If not the Glenfiddich will suffice.”
She seemed to have no recollection of the events, which had transpired over the course of the past hour.
“Did I give you the letter from William’s lawyer?”
“Yes, Sill,” Terrance replied, softening a bit.
“Please, make sure that it’s mailed at your earliest convenience? I would hate to stand in the way of progress.”
Terrance put down the suitcase and headed for the kitchen to find that there was no Chivas or Glenfiddich. Pouring her a glass of Courvoisier, he wondered why he hadn’t noticed that there was something wrong before. Or had he, and simply chosen to overlook it? His mind raced. Returning with the glass of brandy, he handed it to her. There was no glazed look now.
“Terrance was I supposed to be getting dressed for dinner?” she asked.
“No, Sill. I think it’s a little too late. I’ve got school tomorrow,” he replied.
“Then why is your car running?” she asked.
Terrance forgot that he’d started the car in his haste to get away before there was a scene.
“Trying to sneak out on me, are you? I knew it wouldn’t be easy trying to keep a good lookin’ young man like you down. But tell the truth, babe, there aren’t too many women out there that work as hard as I do to keep their man happy, are there?” Terrance didn’t know how much more he could take. On the verge of tears, he wondered if he were responsible for her erratic behavior. She continued leafing through the pages of the Essence magazine.
“Are there, Terrance?” she asked again.
“Are there what, Sill?” he asked forgetting her question. His mind was a thousand miles away.
“Are you listening to me, Terrance Daniels? I said, ‘There aren’t many women out there that take care of their men as well as I do.’ Is this true or isn’t it?”
Terrance wasn’t sure whether Sill was playing him or not. Was she simply baiting him out of guilt to answer appropriately or was she truly sincere in her questioning with no idea of what had just occurred. William chose his words carefully. “I don’t know too many women who cater to a man’s need the way you do, Sill,” Terrance replied, carefully.
Sylvia placed the Essence back on the living room table, took off her reading glasses and walked to the hall closet. Reaching down, she picked up a brown shoebox and opened it to reveal some gold high heels with laves for days. She then proceeded to wrap the laces around her calves, tying them in bows right below the knee.
“Don’t move a muscle, Terrance, darling, I’ve got something to show you.” Sylvia walked up the stairs. Reaching the landing, she paused, and com-mented,”My God, I’m sore today. Guess I shouldn’t have run that extra mile.”
Terrance’s head dropped to his hands and tears flowed freely. He couldn’t stay here. There was no way he could face Sylvia after what he’d done. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame. All he wanted to do was extricate himself from the feelings burgeoning inside of him. But how? If he walked out on her now, he’d never be able to look himself in the mirror. And if he stayed, he was only fostering her hope and her denial. What she needed was help. Professional help. He felt that he owed her that much. Still she was so proud. What if she rejected his attempts to seek help? Perhaps he would suggest that they seek counseling together. A professional would certainly be able to recognize the signs of schizophrenia, as he surmised was what ailed her. He had never been this close to anything of this nature and truly believed that he had somehow triggered it. Now what?
Sylvia Stanton approached each step as if she were a supermodel on a Gucci runway. She sported a gold wreath atop her hair, which was now in a bun. Sheathed in a gold and white print, she flaunted a Roman toga with deep, revealing slits on each side. When she hit the landing and was in full view, she raised her arhis, letting the toga fall gently to the floor. And though he’d seen her in the nude before, he gasped. Good God! Underneath, she wore a two-piece ensemble, consisting of little more than a gold halter with gold sequins and fringes and a thong to match. The laces, which caressed her thick brown calves almost made Terrance, forget the ills and misfortunes, which had befallen them. There wasn’t an Egyptian queen or Roman goddess who could hold a candle to Sylvia Stanton. She was simply gorgeous. And then for no reason, he searched her eyes, the eyes which only hours earlier were so animated, so full of life were once again oddly vacant, empty, devoid of life.
“I’ve been saving this for you, Terrance. How do you like it?” she asked. She made her way to the sofa where Terrance sat. Nuzzling his ear, she started to unbutton his shirt. Grabbing her hands, he spoke to her, gently but firmly! “You are amazingly beautiful, Sylvia, even more beautiful without the outfit. There’s a beauty inside of you that makes you the person you are, the person that made your students adore you so. That inner beauty is what attracted me to you, from the very beginning. But there’s also something else—something wrong, Sill. There’s eating you up inside, something has deeply hurt you, maybe even traumatized you and it’s eaten away at you so long that it’s making you, well—ill. Let’s you and I go and talk to someone that knows about these things, maybe get to the bottom of all this, find out what’s wrong so we can make it right.”
“Oh, so now you’re my therapist? Did you think I put this outfit on so I can receive bargain basement counseling at a discount price? Tell you what, Mr. Daniels, I’ll get help when you get help. Ask yourself why you need the approval of more than one woman to consider yourself a man. Are you that insecure? All I’m trying to do is hold on to the one man that I love and after months of baiting, then luring me to the point where he can screw me he decides he doesn’t want to play anymore. Now, you need your space, your independence, as you call it. You’re nothing but a cold, calloused, insensitive dog.”
Terrance gasped. “Sill, I’m leaving. I’ve had enough for one day.” He pushed her off him and went for the suitcase, which was still sitting at the door. “When you decide to get some help, call me. You know that I love you and will be glad to go with you. That’s the only way I’d be willing to continue in this relationship.”
“Let me ask you one thing before you step out that door, Terrance Daniels,” she said. “How is it that you can speak your mind and no matter how angry I get, I listen to you and try to work things out but when I disagree with what you say, there’s no debate? You just get angry and leave, case closed. My way or the highway. Explain that to me.”
Terrance ignored her. “Like I said before, when you decide t
o get help call me,” Terrance said picking up the suitcase.
“Terrance Daniels you need to bring your little scrawny ass back in here. You already know that you’re not leaving me. Terrance, please don’t make me cry again.”
“I love you, Sylvia.” Terrance closed the door behind him.
Sylvia still attired in halter top, thong and heels opened the front door for all to see. Neighbors started in disbelief but she saw no one but Ter-rance.”Damn you, Terrance. OK, I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. Damn, what more do you want. What? You want to rape me again? Here, rape me, then.”
With the front door wide open, Sylvia Stanton pulled off the thong retreated to the living room and bent, spread eagle over the sofa. “Go ahead, Terrance, you can have me. C’mon, rape me again, if it’s good for you, baby, then just keep raping me. I can take it. Just don’t leave me.” When she heard the Volkswagen roar out of the parking space, she grabbed her toga and ran back to the door where the neighbors still stood, watching in amazement. Embarrassed, she yelled: “Get that license plate number. That man just raped me.” Dressed in her six-inch heels, thong and halter-top, Sylvia Stanton was somehow less than convincing.
During the next two months, William immersed himself in his work, refining his oral presentation for prospective clients and took courses in assertive-ness training and public speaking at Melinda’s both of which were recommended, somewhat ironically by Melinda.
In the month since the trip, William grabbed three new accounts and was on the verge of closing on a fourth. He had been named, ‘Employee of the Month,’ for the third consecutive month, and was a shoo-in to receive the award again this month. To say he was hot was an understatement. He was in the zone.
And Ol’ Man Morris, who always kept abreast, was well aware of William’s recent success and was quick to offer him a small bonus for each of the new accounts. William, however, adhering to Melinda’s plan declined the bonuses in favor of a lump sum stock option. Morris, quick to realize a gold mine, not only agreed to William’s request but restructured his contract for the second time in a manner of months, giving him a thirteen per-cent share of the company making William the largest minority shareholder.
Morris knew the incentive would have a dual effect. First, it would keep William productive. After all, the more the agency brought in, the higher the shares; thus making William’s holdings even more valuable.
The move also eliminated Morris having to consider making William a partner in the very near future. And although he’d consider making the move over the past few months, there were already rumors about preferential treatment among some of his other employees and a few of the board members who were in league with Jack Thomas coup to be the next senior partner based solely on seniority.
Aware of the politics, which sought to disclaim William’s recent success, Melinda had suggested letting an article leak to her good friend Val who just happened to be the financial editor for the Atlanta Constitution, Atlanta’s largest daily newspaper. That way William’s success would be known throughout the Atlanta business community and any thought of moving someone ahead of him could very shine a negative light on the firm as well as result in a possible discrimination suit and the last thing a firm with billions of dollars in holdings in Third World countries needed was a lawsuit screaming discrimination. But that was not the only reason Melinda deemed the leak important. William’s name needed to become a household name in the days ahead if there was any chance of success for her plan. These days she was so overwhelmed with implementing her strategy, taking care of the usual day-to-day routines that made the Atlanta branch of Hill and Morris run smoothly that she had little time for herself let alone anything else including herself. Still, she maintained her regular routine at the gym. By the time she reached home at night she was so exhausted that she could do little but crawl in the bed and call it a day. She saw little of William these days outside of the office and even less of him in the office as he was constantly on the go, driven by a passion to be the best in his field despite the grumbling from Jack Thomas who viewed William as little more than a token nigga and the recipient of affirmative action on the corporate level.
Still, he was content to keep this to himself and a few of the board members who agreed but the anonymosity was there. And when the Ol’ Man made it a point to fly down shortly after William picked up his fourth consecutive, ‘Employee-of-the-Month Award’, and give it to him in person at the quarterly meeting, jack Thomas was fuming. After all, he’d been with Hill and Morris for twenty-five years and Morris had never given him anything resembling an award and he’d led the company in sales almost from it’s inception. What was more, was that during the meeting and in spite of the impending flak sure to come, the Ol’ Man went so far as to offer William Stanton a full partnership in the firm of Hill and Morris, effective immediately.
Upon hearing this, a few of the board gasped but only because it had come as such a complete surprise. Overall, most of them that had come to know him over the years were well aware of his achievements and had grown to respect William. And were as a whole happy for him.
Jack Thomas, on the other hand, was outraged and let it be known in no uncertain terms that the whole thing was nothing but a goddamn charade. And well that he’d earned that position and, ‘would never, not in this lifetime, ever work for a nigga’.
In spite of the whole drug trafficking affair that consumed William whenever he thought of the Ol’ Man he’d never felt closer to Mr. Morris than he did that day in the board room of Hill and Morris when the Ol’ Man visibly shaken by Jack Thomas’, outburst as anyone in the room took a minute before replying.
“Well, Jack, what can I say? As long as I’ve known you you’ve been a loyal and valuable employee of Hill and Morris. You’ve always been a top-flight accent representative. If you had only been as good a man as you were a rep then I may have been faced with a dilemma in naming a partner but as your discourteous manner has shown you still have a ways to go. Since you’ve decided that you can’t work for the man I’ve chosen to succeed me I again
thank you for your loyal service over the years and will make sure that you receive a first class recommendation.”
William smiled appreciatively and shook Morris’ hand before addressing the board members.
“First of all, I’d like to show my gratitude to Mr. Morris, my mentor, for taking a chance on me and then having the patience to show me the ropes during my tenure. He has always been there when I needed the support. In many ways he has been more than a mentor. He has also been somewhat of a father figure to me. Again, I appreciate his offer and I know some others would leap at this opportunity, (although I won’t mention any names), but I must admit that.. .well, it comes somewhat of as a shock and although I would love to have the opportunity to take over the reigns when Mr. Morris chooses to retire it’s not a decision that I can just say yes to that easily. I currently have twenty some odd accounts open and I would like to think that my clients have their faith not just in Hill and Morris but also in me. I, would therefore hate to abandon them when they have put their trust in me. Please give me a few days to see if I can’t reassign some of my more tedious accounts and let me get back to you,” William said turning to Mr. Morris who seemed more shocked by this display of uncertainty on William’s part than he had by Jack Thomas’ theatrics.
Morris returned to the podium.
“Always so deliberate, so methodical,” he smiled at William and then the board members. “I’m sure we’ll be receiving William’s assent within the next day or two,” he smiled, returning his gaze to William.
“Now, if there are no further questions then please excuse me. I have a flight to catch.” And with that the Ol’ Man shook William’s hand, then leaned over and whispered into William’s ear. “I hope you don’t think I’m taking no for an answer,” and William noticed that he wasn’t smiling now. Call me on Wednesday and give me your decision.
No sooner than Morris le
ft, William realized the embarrassment his indeci-siveness caused the Ol’ Man and though he hadn’t meant to, he could hardly accept the position and still be in accordance with Melinda’s plan. Oh God, how he hoped she knew what she was doing. If she didn’t the whole damn thing was liable to blow up in their faces.
Anxiety was beginning to play a large part in his attitude and on returning to the office he hardly heard the congratulations or felt the countless pats on the back. His thoughts were somewhere else completely. And Melinda bore the brunt of his angst.
By the time Wednesday rolled around he had received word that Morris wanted to see him in person and not knowing what the gist of the meeting was he was even more nervous than he’d been when he’d been offered the partnership. Entering his office Wednesday morning there were no cordial greetings or attention given to Melinda’s attire. It was just as it had been for the past two days and was a side Melinda had never seen before. She wondered if this was the same man that had placed his hand on her thigh ever so gently, told her he loved her and proposed to her all in the same evening. Stepping into the office on Wednesday morning William Stanton threw his London Fog over the chair in the outer office and barked at his assistant.
“Get in touch with Valerie at the paper! Ask her to let you have a copy of the article before it goes to print,” he proceeded almost breathlessly.
“Anything else, Mr. Stanton?” William not used to being referred to so formally by Melinda, suddenly realized the solemn nature of his own tone and demands and started to apologize when Melinda stopped him.
“Forgive me, Melinda, I don’t know what’s gotten into—”
“No need to explain, William, I understand. I’ll take care of everything. Just relax, William. Relax.”
