Kim shook her head as she listened to her friends giggling about something. They’d started out as the most unlikely roommates about fourteen years ago. The three of them couldn’t have been more different in temperament. Gregarious was too tame a word to describe Leslie, while Tam was quiet and somewhat shy, and she herself was somewhere in the middle, she supposed. What they shared though was a stubborn streak and a strong sense of what they wanted from life.
Leslie’s family had wanted her to get a degree and a Morehouse man and not necessarily in that order. Her Spelman graduate mother had married her Morehouse graduate father and her Spelman graduate sister had found and married a Morehouse man as well. But Leslie hadn’t been interested in getting married and settling down. She’d chosen instead to major in Chemistry and to do graduate work in the subject at Howard—all without a Morehouse husband. Now, she was an award-winning sales rep for American Pharmaceuticals.
Tam had bucked her blue-collar parents and studied to be a teacher instead of a doctor like her four older sisters. She’d fallen in love with Marcus during freshman year. They’d gotten married right after graduation and she’d followed him to Georgetown University where he’d studied, of all things, medicine.
Kim’s parents hadn’t understood her career choice either. More than anything Kim had wanted to be a writer. For as long as she could remember, she was writing stories. In high school she was editor of the school newspaper, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to her parents when she wanted to study journalism and creative writing in college. It shouldn’t have, but it had. Kim thought it was because her parents had been of another generation. They’d had her when they were in their late forties. In some ways, they’d thought more like grandparents than parents. They’d wanted her to study a safe subject like teaching or nursing which would give her a guarantee of employment when she graduated. But Kim hadn’t been able to accommodate them. She’d gone against their wishes and followed her heart.
“Hey, Kim,” Tam said once they were all seated in the great room again. “Did you hear about Leslie’s promotion?”
“No,” Kim said. She turned to Leslie. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you now. You were out of town on one of your interviews when I heard about it.”
Kim leaned over and hugged her friend. “Congratulations! Did you get a big raise?”
Leslie grinned and her bright eyes shone. “A big raise and a relocation package.”
“A relocation package?” Kim and Tam repeated together.
“You’re moving?” Kim added.
Leslie chuckled. “Calm down. I’m only moving to Atlanta. No big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” Tam said. “I can’t believe you’re leaving us.”
“Me either,” Kim said. “You’re really moving.” The news unsettled Kim. Leslie and Tam, though trying at times, were the closest thing to family she had and she didn’t want them to be separated.
Leslie sat forward on the couch. “I can’t turn this down. I’ll be in charge of a district sales office. You know how much I want something like this.”
“But Atlanta?” Kim said again.
Leslie leaned over and tapped her on the knee. “Don’t look so sad. Maybe I’ll meet my first Nice Guy in Atlanta. Isn’t that where that Reggie guy lives?”
“Sure is,” Tam said. “Wouldn’t it be something if you ran into him?”
“Yes, it would,” Kim said slowly, thoughts of Leslie’s move temporarily replaced by thoughts of Reggie. Why did the idea of Leslie and Reggie getting together bother her? “But Atlanta is a big city. Meeting Reggie would be a huge coincidence.”
“Hey, I could always look him up,” Leslie said. “You have his number, don’t you?”
Yes, she did. “You know I can’t give you the guy’s number.”
“Why not?” Tam asked. “It’s not as if she’s going to stalk him or anything.”
“I know that,” Kim said, “but what are you going to tell him when he asks how you got his number?”
“Good point,” Leslie said. “If he’d agreed to your interview, we’d have a totally different story. Guess I’ll have to forget that idea. But hey, you never know. I could still run into him.”
Kim kept thinking about Reggie while her friends moved on to the next topic of conversation. She didn’t understand why she felt so possessive about him. It wasn’t as though he belonged to her or anything. She didn’t even know the man, for goodness’ sake.
~ ~ ~
Reggie slammed his front door after he let himself in. He couldn’t believe it. He really couldn’t believe it. I want to see other people, Deborah had said. Yeah, right! She’d wanted to see other people, all right. A specific other people.
He strode into his kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator. He still couldn’t believe it. He grabbed a can of light beer and popped the top. Then he took a swig of the cold brew, enjoying the burning sensation in his throat. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it. But he had seen it, so he had to believe it.
Deborah was out with Eddie! Eddie, the guy who’d moved out without a word, stolen her furniture and raided her bank account. He couldn’t believe the woman! She’d dumped him—a guy who’d been good to her—for a lowlife like Eddie. Well, he was glad to be rid of her. If she wanted a guy who’d walk all over her, then she deserved Eddie. Taking another swig of beer, he walked into his den and dropped down onto the couch. Maybe she’s lost her mind, he thought as he flicked the remote and turned on the television. Surely, no sane woman would choose to go back to a man who’d so mistreated her.
“Damn,” Reggie muttered. “I can’t believe it. I really can’t believe it.”
But it was true. He’d seen the two of them all snuggled up at The Club. And he knew Deborah had seen him. At least, she’d had the decency to lower her eyes. He hadn’t even bothered to speak to her. He was sure she could read the disbelief in his eyes.
Couldn’t she see that Eddie is no good? he asked himself. How could she have convinced herself to go out with him again?
He shook his head and then flipped the remote, looking for something to take his mind off what he now considered, Mindless Women. Then, Reggie flicked off the television, knowing nothing was going to keep his mind off what he’d seen tonight.
He shouldn’t care, but he did. Deborah was a nice woman. She really was. A little misdirected. Maybe even a little naive, though she was thirty-five. But he thought she’d grown up a little in their time together. She’d established some goals and was well on her way to achieving them. He’d been proud of the way she’d come back after such an awful time with that Eddie character. But now she’d decided to go back with the rat and Reggie was worried.
He knew he shouldn’t be. Deborah was a grown woman, free to make her own choices, whether those choices were good or bad. And this one, he was convinced, was definitely a bad one. He hoped she didn’t get hurt too much. She deserved better. She really did.
He wondered, not for the first time, what made women choose men who were bad for them. What was the appeal of the selfish, self-serving man? Sure, he knew most women would consider Eddie handsome, but there were many men, he was sure, they considered more attractive. Hell, he was pretty sure most women would think he was more attractive than Eddie. So, it wasn’t the man’s looks.
Then what is it? he asked himself. Surely, no woman enjoyed being mistreated, emotionally or physically. He grunted. Maybe it was something even more basic. Could it be that the bad boys were better lovers? Nah, he thought with a shake of his head. How could a man whose sole focus was his own needs be a good lover?
But, then, he really didn’t know what went on behind closed doors. Maybe the guys were tender and considerate lovers. Maybe that dichotomy in their personality was what trapped the women. Maybe women expected that tenderness in the bedroom to carry over outside it. Maybe, maybe, maybe. There was no sense in his trying to figure out women and their choices. The
re was no answer.
Though he wished Deborah the best, with Eddie or whoever she chose, he had the bad feeling Eddie was going to hurt her again. And he suspected she had that feeling too. Obviously, the woman couldn’t help herself. She must really think she was in love with the guy. Reggie was convinced though, that it wasn’t true love. No, even true love had its bounds. And he was sure Eddie had crossed them.
It’s not your problem, he told himself. It’s not your problem.
Though his words were true, they didn’t change his concern. He’d seen Deborah at the lowest point in her life and he didn’t want her to go back to that place. She deserved so much more. She hadn’t believed that when he’d met her, but he’d been sure she’d finally come to realize it. Maybe he’d been wrong.
The ringing telephone brought him out of his thoughts. He considered letting it ring, but decided against it. He reached for the phone on the sofa table behind him.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello. Reggie Stevens?”
The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “Yes, this is Reggie.”
“Reggie,” the soft, feminine voice said. “You probably don’t remember me, but I called you about a month ago.”
He remembered the voice now. The woman from Urban Style. Kim something.
“I’m Kimberla Washington from Urban Style magazine. I called you about our Nice Guy Contest.”
She paused and he knew she wanted him to acknowledge her earlier call. He chose not to oblige.
“Do you remember me?” she asked when she realized he wasn’t going to jump in.
“I remember telling you that I didn’t want to be interviewed and that I didn’t want to be featured in your contest,” he said. He knew he was being difficult, but he’d had a long day and this woman was not helping.
“I know that’s what you said,” she began. “But I was hoping I could change your mind. This article—”
“I’m not changing my mind, Ms. Washington. I don’t want to be included in your article and I don’t want to be interviewed.”
“But the article is shaping up to be something I’m sure you’d approve.”
“Look, Ms. Washington, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m really not interested in how your article is shaping up. As I told you before, I don’t want to participate.”
“But—”
“No buts, Ms. Washington, just no. Now, I have to go. Have a good evening.”
Reggie hung up the phone rather abruptly, he knew. But the woman should learn to accept “no”. Why should he participate in a Nice Guy Contest, only to get mail from women who said they wanted a nice guy, but, given the chance, would choose a bad one every time?
Why did women say they wanted one type of guy and choose the exact opposite? That was the question he wanted answered. Ms. Kimberla Washington ought to do an article on that. But, he was sure that kind of article wouldn’t appeal to her. She wanted to perpetrate the myth that women were looking for good guys. Well, he knew it was only a myth.
And myths needed to be exposed. Reggie got up from the couch and walked over to the burgundy leather chair and cherry desk that defined his home office. Maybe it was time for the myth to be exposed. And maybe he was the guy to do it.
He eased down into his high-back chair and flicked on his computer. First, he needed a title. If he intended to do this, he was going to do it right.
That’s it, he thought, when the perfect title passed through his mind. He knew he was onto something when he typed the words, “Double-Minded Women and Their Two-Timing Men.”
Chapter 3
Kim was still thinking about Reggie Stevens a week later, after meeting with Jim to discuss the status of the article. He agreed that it was shaping up well so Kim should have been satisfied, but she wasn’t. She knew Reggie Stevens would add a uniqueness, a spark that the article lacked without him. Too bad she couldn’t convince him to participate.
She sat down at her desk and checked her calendar. She still had two more interview trips to make. Just as she was about to pick up her phone to make travel plans, it rang.
“Urban Style, Kim Washington speaking.”
“Kim, have you seen The Papyrus?” Tam’s excited voice rushed out. “Girl, you’ve got to see the paper.”
“What’s up? Tell me what you read in the paper. I haven’t picked up my copy today.”
“You’re not going to believe this,” Tam said. “You’re not going to believe it.”
“Come on, Tam, you’re making me nervous. Tell me.”
“It’s that guy. You know, Reggie Stevens. He’s written an article.”
Kim leaned forward, her interest piqued. “About what?”
“You’re not gonna believe this title. This Reggie Stevens is a bad brother. I wouldn’t mind meeting him myself.”
Kim understood that feeling totally. She certainly wanted to meet him. “Come on, Tam. Tell me about the article.”
“Girl, the title is something. Double-Minded Women and their Two-Timing Men. Can you believe that?”
It was definitely an attention grabber, Kim had to agree. But a title didn’t tell her enough. “So what does he say?”
“I can’t explain it to you. You have to read it for yourself. I have to go now so I can finish it. Too bad you couldn’t interview this guy. He definitely has some strong opinions on male-female relationships.”
“Can’t you—” Kim began.
Kim heard Jim bellow her name. “Kimmy!”
“Forget it, Tam. I’ll get my own paper. Thanks for telling me about the article.”
“Any time, girl,” Tam said. “What are friends for anyway?”
Kim hung up, picked up her pad and headed back to Jim’s office. A bellow usually indicated that a pad was needed.
“Did you see this paper?” Jim demanded as she entered his office. He handed her the Lifestyle page. “Read that.”
In big, bold letters were the words, “Double-Minded Women and their Two-Timing Men—Reggie Stevens speaks out for the nice guys in America.” Kim skimmed the article. “There is much media attention these days on the black woman and her unsuccessful search for a mate,” Kim read to herself. “A good man, these women complain, is hard to find. All the black men are either married, gay or in jail, hordes of single black women complain. They constantly moan, If only I could find a nice guy. I’m not looking for a rocket scientist or a Tyson double, they say, just a nice, simple guy who’s not playing games and who understands the definition of commitment.”
“To these black women, I say, Stop lying to yourselves and to the nice black men that you say you’re looking for. Black women today may say with their lips that they want a nice guy, but their actions speak a different truth. Consider the woman who leaves a hard-working, straight-forward brother for a guy who puts her down and always wants to borrow money from her. Or the woman who chooses a man with four other women over a guy who believes in monogamy. What about the women who say they want a nice guy, but who choose the exact opposite? From a nice guy who’s been through his share of women who talked the talk, but didn’t walk the walk, I say these women are double-minded and have no idea what they really want. And I also say that these women deserve the two-timing men they choose.”
Kim didn’t need to read any more right now to get Mr. Stevens’ drift. No, the man had been perfectly clear. In a single article, he’d slammed the entire black female population. She wondered if she’d judged him a true nice guy prematurely. She looked up at Jim. “What about it?”
“What about it?” he shouted. “Isn’t this Stevens guy one of the finalists in the Nicest Guy in America Contest?”
Kim shook her head. “We wanted him, but he refused the interview. You remember, don’t you?”
Jim waved his hands disregarding her words. “Get him for the article, Kim. We need him.”
“No, we don’t. I thought you said the article was shaping up nicely.”
“That was before I saw this paper and ta
lked to the editor. It seems the story originated in the Atlanta Voice and was picked up by the Number One urban radio station in Atlanta. The deejays are talking up the article and getting their listeners to discuss its merits. This means other papers in other urban markets are going to be picking up the story and other radio stations are going to be talking about it. The word on the street is that Tom Joyner will be joining the discussion in the next few days.”
Kim glanced at the article again. If Tom Joyner was going to start discussing Reggie’s article on his syndicated show, then the article would probably end up in all the urban papers. Tom had Oprah-like clout in that sense. And given the title and contents of the article, Kim wouldn’t be surprised if Reggie ended up on some local, maybe even national, talk shows. She began to see Jim’s point.
“We have to get him, Kimmy,” Jim continued. “This is too good to pass up. Just think what this guy could do for our circulation. We could put him on the cover with Nice Guy Fights Back. You’ve got to get him, Kimmy, and you have to get to him before the other magazines do. I’ll bet Ebony, Essence, Upscale and Emerge have already contacted him. Upscale might be our strongest competition since they’re based in Atlanta and have the hometown advantage.”
Kim understood Jim’s position, but she didn’t see how she could convince Reggie Stevens to participate. She told Jim as much.
“Well, you’d better come up with something because we have to have him. Consider getting Reggie Stevens on the cover of Urban Style your sole job right now. And Kimmy, don’t let me down.”
Kim knew further explanation was futile. Jim didn’t want excuses. He wanted results. But how could she do it? She’d already called the man twice and he’d made it clear that he wasn’t interested. “Okay, Jim, I’ll do my best to get him,” she finally said.
“Don’t do your best, Kimmy. Get him.”
Kim nodded and walked out of his office and back to her desk. The first thing she needed to do was get a copy of the paper and read the article in full. Then she needed to call her friend at WBAH, the local station that ran Joyner’s show, and find out if he was really going to talk about Reggie’s article. Jim’s info could be wrong; in which case getting to Reggie was not as urgent. But if, as Jim expected, Joyner was taking the topic to the airwaves, she had to get Reggie for Urban Style and she had to get him soon.
The Nicest Guy in America Page 4
