by Mz. Robinson
“That’s right,” Nadia jumped in. “After what happened in L.A., I thought it was better for me to come here and try to work things out.”
At that point, I had no idea where Nadia was going with her conversation. All I knew was that if she told Octavia what had really happened between us in L.A., I was going to lose my future wife, and Nadia’s ass was going to become acquainted with the sidewalk after Octavia put the beat-down on her, which she was well capable of doing.
“What happened in L.A.?” Octavia asked, lowering her eyes at me.
“You didn’t tell her?” Nadia asked, looking at me.
“No,” I said flatly, but I felt like I might as well have been wearing a neon sign on my forehead blinking, “I hit it! I tapped that ass in Cali.”
“Tell me what?” Octavia asked, more demanding this time. She looked from me to Nadia, then back to me again.
During those few seconds I didn’t dare to breathe. My ass was on the line, and all I could do was hope Nadia wouldn’t toss it under the proverbial bus.
“I came on to him,” Nadia finally said. “When I found out he was going to be in town, I went to see him, and all those memories came flooding back. Well, before I knew it…” Nadia never finished her sentence, and Octavia didn’t ask her to elaborate. Thinking about it now, I don’t know if Nadia would have given Octavia the whole story or not. I’m just thankful I didn’t have to find out.
Octavia was still pissed. She shoved her engagement ring back in my face, then drove off, leaving me screaming her name in the wind like something off of some sappy soap opera.
After we made up, I told her nothing had happened with Nadia. Although she never mentioned that day or Nadia, I couldn’t help feeling that my inviting her to see Nadia perform would bring back unwanted memories and lead to a discussion of what Nadia had left out of the conversation that day.
“I’ll check on that,” I lied. “However, I will be in Atlanta next week on business.” I chose not to disclose the fact that I was going to be in L.A. for the weekend. My plate and itinerary for my L.A. visit was full, and attempting to make time for Nadia was not an option on that trip.
“I know.” Nadia laughed lightly. “Your father told Odessa, and she told my grandmother.”
I had forgotten all about the Senior Citizen Gossip Network, hosted by Odessa and Bernice, mine and Nadia’s grandmothers. The women were so into gossip and rumors that they could have worked as informants for those rag mags at the checkout counters. The two of them had been friends for twenty-plus years, and if either of them had had any say in the matter, Nadia and I would have been married with a houseful of babies.
“How is Bernie?” I asked.
“She’s good,” Nadia said. “Full of drama, as always.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I said honestly.
“Well, I look forward to seeing you,” she said with a sigh. “The show is Tuesday through Friday at the Fox Theater. Let me know when you or the two of you would like to come, and I’ll leave tickets at the window.”
“I’ll call you,” I said.
“Talk to you then.”
“Goodbye, Nadia.”
“For now, Damon.”
“Uh, sure…for now.”
Chapter 5
Octavia
Since opening The Ambiance 2, my second restaurant, my plate of duties was running over, to the point where my in-box of paperwork was starting to look like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Being a business owner, mother, wife, daughter, and best friend can be time consuming. Don’t get it twisted…I love all the hats I wear and all the people I wear them for, but this chick is on overload seven days a week. This was one of the reasons why I couldn’t understand that my wonderful husband wanted another child so badly.
Damon insisted on dropping little hints about wanting a son to go along with our beautiful baby girl, every chance he got. From name-dropping to pointing out cute little scenes with fathers and sons on TV, he had become the official spokesman for reproduction. I’m normally open to anything Damon suggests, but Baby 2 was a closed-ended conversation for me. I love being a mommy, of course, but I also missed being on the front lines of my business every day, and my office needed me there.
Before Damon and I got married, I never would have dared to give someone else full reign of my company, but after I had Jasmine, I had to step back and allow my employees to hold me down. Don’t get me wrong: I had a wonderful, capable staff at both my locations, but at the same time, I wanted to be right there at the heart of the action. I also liked to pop in at anytime and see who I might catch slipping on the job. I’m a kind-hearted, fair boss but my people gotta know that I don’t tolerate any slacking, drama, or bullshit. If someone is blessed with an opportunity—like a job in one of my restaurants, for instance—they should show their gratitude by giving 110 percent, just like I do.
After pleading and practically performing an act of Congress, I got Damon to agree to let me hire a nanny so I could return to work full time. Out of a sea of résumés, some of which should have never been submitted in the first place and a few I could instantly tell were plagiarized or faked, I finally narrowed it down to a few people whom I actually wanted to interview. I decided to conduct interviews at The Ambiance. That way, I could get some work done in between appointments, and I wouldn’t have to have strangers parading in and out of my home. It was my plan to select the perfect nanny and then invite her over for a tour.
My first two candidates were automatically knocked out of the running for being late. If they couldn’t bother showing up on time for an interview, surely they couldn’t be trusted to change my daughter’s diaper on time, and the last thing I needed was for Jazz to suffer from diaper rash just because some lazy ass insisted on putting things off.
Candidate Number 3 was a sweet little old lady by the name of Rosa, the mother of three and grandmother of nine. She didn’t smoke or drink, and she looked too old to make a move on my husband—all great qualities in my book. Rosa was batting 100 until she pulled out a King James Bible during our interview and started answering my questions with scripture verses. I wanted our nanny to have some religion, but Rosa was a little extreme for my taste. I love the Lord and everything, but I am far from a saint, and the last thing I needed was for the person helping with my child to go around passing fire-and-brimstone judgment on me.
Candidate Number 4 was too damn pretty for her own good—case closed. I couldn’t have some big-titted, green-eyed, Size 2 heifer bouncing around my man. I trust my husband, but I’m not stupid, and the best way to keep your man from succumbing to temptation is to avoid having anything around that will tempt him.
Candidate 5 was a recent college graduate by the name of Alexandria. She had an impressive résumé and was fluent in eight different languages. I felt I had a winner when I saw her stroll through my office door. “Hello, Mrs. Whitmore.” She smiled and extended her hand to me for a professional shake.
“Please call me Octavia.” I smiled, giving her the onceover with my eyes. She was tall and slim, with auburn hair worn in a simple boy-cut. She was dressed in an interview-suitable plain blue blazer and slacks. Her facial features were cute, but there was nothing that stood out about her. At first, I took her as the tomboy type, which meant Damon wouldn’t be salivating over her like a hungry dog. “Have a seat.” I smiled. “So, tell me a little bit about yourself,” I prompted, crossing my legs. I noticed her eyes traveling from mine, down, then back up again, and something about that made me a bit uneasy.
“Well, I’m a native of Huntsville,” she began.
I listened as Alexandria gave me a brief bio. Throughout the interview I noticed that her eyes occasionally strayed from mine down to my breasts, then back up again. What the hell? I thought. I crossed my arms across my chest, hoping it would deter her eyes, but it only seemed to attract more unwanted attention from her. I was starting to feel violated, so I decided it was time to wrap our interview up. “Thank you for coming in
today.” I smiled, stood, and walked over to the door. “It was very nice meeting you.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” She smiled and seemed to be staring at me from behind.
Did she just look at my ass?
“I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward,” she said, folding her hands together, “but I think you’re just…well, beautiful.”
“Uh, thanks.” I smiled, holding the office door open for her. It was all I could do not to kick her out of it.
“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”
“Thank you, but no,” I said nicely. “I’m straight…and happily married.”
Smiling, she leaned against the doorframe. “I’m married too,” she said seductively, “and he would be perfectly fine with us.”
Did she just say “us”? There is no “us”! “Good to know,” I said firmly. “Thank you, but you can leave now.”
“You know where I’ll be if you change your mind.” She smiled and winked at me.
Yeah, in the unemployment line, I thought. I waited for her to walk out the door, then wasted no time closing the door behind her.
I had some time between interviews, so I decided to call and check on my girl, Shontay. I missed my bestie with a passion. After leaving Belize, Shontay and Savoy continued their voyage with a trip to London. From London, they planned to travel to Africa before returning to the States. I loved that Shontay was finally living her life on her own terms. She is a wonderful woman who has been through hell. Happiness and peace were long overdue for her.
“Okay, let me get this straight.” She laughed. “You had a Bible-toting granny, too hot for the job, and a bilingual lesbian?” She couldn’t seem to stop laughing after I told her about my interviews.
“Yes,” I said, shaking my head.
“Shit, that sounds like a sitcom. What a mess!”
“A hot one at that,” I added. “I’m afraid to see what’s gonna walk in here next.”
“Hopefully, the next one’ll be perfect,” Shontay said. “Who is she?”
Glancing at the résumé in front of me, I refreshed my memory on the next candidate. “Her name is Kelly Baker,” I read. “Her résumé is impressive. She’s CPR certified, elementary education major, Auburn University graduate, five years as assistant director of a daycare, and several volunteer activities. But I’m sure there’s something wrong with her,” I added. “You know what they say.”
“What’s that?”
“If something’s too good to be true, it probably is.”
“Well, we want only the best for my goddaughter,” Shontay said. “Speaking of which, how is Jasmine?”
A smile crept across my face at the mere mention of my daughter’s name. If anyone would have told me I could ever love anyone as much as I love my daughter, I would have called them a liar to their face. But it’s true what they say, children are the ultimate joy. “Walking and getting bigger by the day.” I smiled again just thinking of her. “Oh, and she’s talking up a storm, though the only word I understand is ‘Da Da’.”
“A daddy’s girl, huh?” Shontay chanted.
“You know it.”
“And how is that brother-in-law of mine?” she asked.
“Damon is fine,” I told her. “How is Savoy?”
“Perfect,” she beamed, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “He is so good to me.”
“That’s great, Tay,” I said sincerely. “I’m so happy for the two of you.”
“Me too.” She sighed a dreamy sigh, like a girl who’d been kissed for the very first time by her high school crush. “I pray this feeling never ends.”
“Yeah, being in love is a beautiful thing,” I said.
“It certainly is,” she said.
There was a knock on my office door. Looking at my watch, I saw I still had thirty minutes until my next interview, so I assumed it was one of my employees on the other side of the door. “It’s open!” I yelled.
The door opened, and in walked a tall, attractive brother wearing a button-down dress shirt, tie, and slacks. His skin was the color of milk chocolate, and he had a round, smooth baby-face. “Good afternoon,” he said with a smile, revealing two rows of perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth.
“Good afternoon.” I smiled. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“My name is Kelly Baker,” he said politely. “I have a one o’clock interview.”
I had been sure Kelly sounded too good to be true on paper, and I was right. She was a man, and there was no way in hell I was going to hire a male nanny to take care of my little girl! Call me sexist or narrow-minded or whatever you want to call me, but there are some roles I simply do not feel men are cut out to handle. “Tay, my one o’clock is here,” I said. “Let me call you back.”
“Good luck.” She laughed, as she’d heard the masculine introduction. “Love ya.”
“Love you too…and, uh, thanks.” I hung up the phone and turned to my guest. “Please have a seat,” I smiled, placing my Blackberry down on my desk.
“Thank you.” The scent of his cologne floated across the desk as he sat down, masculine but not too strong. The brother smelled good. “Am I too early?” he asked. “I can come back if it’s a problem,” he added.
“No, early is good,” I said. “Can you tell me a little about yourself.”
“Let’s see…” he began. “I was born in Japan.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “My father served in the military for fifteen years. He was stationed in Okinawa at the time of my birth.”
“So you grew up overseas? In Asia?”
“No, not really. We moved to Memphis when I was one,” he explained, staring at me. There was something hypnotizing about Kelly’s gray eyes and the way they held my attention.
I shook my head, attempting to break the magnetic pull, and focused back on the reason he was in my office. “Interesting. Can you tell me a little about your work history?”
***
Ten minutes later, I was torn by the decision I needed to make. Kelly was perfect on paper and in person. I even tried to slip him up by crossing my legs or leaning slightly forward to see if he would stare at my breasts, but he didn’t; his eyes stayed locked on mine for the entire interview. Shit! I thought to myself. At least if he would’ve scoped me out, I would have had a legitimate reason not to want to hire him. As it was, I had no excuses other than the fact that he was a man. “May I ask you a question?” I asked, staring across the desk at him.
“Sure.”
“Why do you want to be a nanny, of all things?” I asked, putting emphasis on the word “nanny.”
“Why do you say it like that?” he asked, frowning.
“Say what like what?”
“Nanny,” he said. “You make it sound degrading,” He waited for me to answer.
I could tell by the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes that he was bothered by my question. I was hoping he was not going to transform into one of those eye-rolling, overly sensitive men who make you want to bitch-slap their asses for being too emotional. “I didn’t mean for it to sound degrading,” I said, folding my hands in front of me. “It’s just that you’re…well, you’re not what I expected.”
“Because I’m not a woman?” he concluded.
“Well, yes, I did expect a woman,” I said, “judging from your name and—”
“And what? The position I’m applying for?” he said, cutting me off.
That was the answer, of course, but I didn’t have the nerve to agree with him out loud, so I said nothing.
“Let me ask you something,” he said, adjusting his tie.
“Go ahead.”
“Would you have called me for an interview if you had known I am a man?”
Hell naw, I thought to myself.
Smiling, he shook his head, as if he was reading my thoughts. “That’s what I thought.” He laughed.
“However, after meeting you, I’m glad I
called you.”
“But?”
“Well, I just don’t think you’re the right fit for this position.”
“Because I’m a man,” he concluded.
I was trying my best not to get dragged into a debate over his gender, and I had no time to get caught up in a possible sexual discrimination lawsuit. “I didn’t say that,” I said.
“You can be honest with me,” he said calmly. “Trust me, I understand. Can you at least tell me why I am not a good fit?” he asked.
Exhaling, I looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m just not comfortable allowing a man to take care of my daughter,” I confessed, and I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
When Kelly gave me a warm, friendly smile I felt confident that he would take my words with a grain of salt. Unfortunately, I was wrong.
“So your husband is a woman?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at me.
I knew where he was going with his little line of questioning, but I decided to give him some satisfaction and play along. “No. I assure you he is all man.” I smiled.
“But you just said you’re not comfortable having your daughter taken care of by a man,” he said, smirking at me as if he’d tripped me up.
“I’m not comfortable with a strange man.”
“But you’re comfortable hiring a strange woman?” he asked, lowering his eyes at me.
If she’s qualified, yes I am! I screamed to myself. He paused, waiting for me to answer, but I never did.
“Let me ask you another question,” he said. This time, he didn’t wait for my reply. “As a woman, if you were told you weren’t hirable because you’re not a man, how would you handle that?”
I couldn’t believe he actually had the nerve to turn the tables on me, but that was exactly what he was doing. “I see you’re trying to make a point, Mr. Baker.”
“I already have, Mrs. Whitmore,” he said, rising from his chair and looking victorious. I watched as he strolled smoothly to the door and turned to face me one more time. “I think we both know you wouldn’t take such obvious discrimination lightly.”
