The Score

Home > Other > The Score > Page 4
The Score Page 4

by Demetrius Sewell

“I understand sir.”

  “Good.”

  No, not good.

  Her fake confidence faltered.

  Tatum wasn’t expecting the call. She’d just returned home from work when the phone began ringing. She rushed to the phone and answered it. Her stomach flipped when she heard the voice.

  “I hope I didn’t rush you.”

  “No, no,” she repeated, out of breath.

  Seth chuckled.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” Tatum wanted to kick herself for sounding like she did at work, officious and helpful.

  “Yes, there is actually. Listen, I want to know if you’re busy tonight. Score is hosting a local musician and I thought you might be interested.”

  “Uh, well…”

  “I enjoy your company and would like to get to know you better.”

  His words pushed the fear button in her heart. Was he like Karla said? Would he hurt her for fun? Would he prove her family right? God, help me.

  “Tatum?”

  “Ah, yes I’m here. I’m really sorry, but I can’t join you tonight. I’m going to have to return to work soon,” she lied.

  Seth paused. “I understand.”

  She felt bad, felt the urge to make things better. “Please don’t think I’m being mean or anything. I just have to get some work done tonight and if I go out, I wouldn’t get this work accomplished for the rest of the week.”

  “I totally understand. Listen, because I am in the restaurant business, I sometimes forget the nine-to-five work most people go through every day.”

  Tatum felt a little better. “Yeah, well, thanks for asking though.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Wait,” Tatum said quickly, but she was interrupted by a dial tone. She wanted to know how he’d gotten her number.

  “Thank you for meeting with me.”

  “Trust me,” Seth boasted, “any press is good press.”

  “Really,” the ebony-skinned reporter said.

  The female reporter for the only black daily in Cincinnati, The Cincinnati Sun, was here to do a feature article on him. Her editor had felt there was a need for the black community to get to know the latest business owner in their neighborhood. Besides, there was a lot of misinformation about Seth Carter.

  Seth had to admit to himself that he was nervous. This was a big deal. He’d had plenty of press from the white media, but now he needed to prove himself to everyone else.

  “Yes. I’m glad to finally meet you. I am very impressed with your background. You came here from Hamilton, Ohio to attend the university, but you ended up becoming a very successful businessman. How did you do it?”

  “Well, that’s a loaded question.” He laughed, trying to buy time to think. “I’m no Donald Trump. I’m just a high school graduate who worked hard.”

  “How did you become involved in the nightclub business?”

  “It was the summer before I was to start my freshman year. I was hired by a nightclub owner to intern at one of her clubs. I fell in love with the atmosphere.”

  She finished writing before continuing. “You’re more than successful. You were named one of the Tri-State’s most eligible bachelors. What do you think of that?”

  “It’s a burden. I don’t think anyone wants to be known for their looks.”

  Seth was becoming comfortable answering the questions. He had expected her to ask tough questions. He’d thought when he agreed to this interview that she was a reporter with an agenda, but he was now relaxing a bit.

  Of course, he didn’t realize how smooth a reporter she was.

  “Score is your third restaurant. What makes this one different from the others?”

  Seth took the opportunity to promote his agenda. “I wanted to give the African-American community economic growth and a chance at good entertainment.”

  The reporter finished writing. “Many of your critics say that you could have foregone this club and just hired more blacks into management positions. What do you say to that?”

  He tensed. He had been blindsided. “I, uh, say it’s not true.”

  “What’s not true? You don’t have minorities in management positions at your clubs?”

  For the first time in many years, the smooth Seth was flustered. “I don’t hire people because of their race.”

  “The Sun took an online poll in which we asked our readers what they wanted to know about you. The highest rated question was why minority employees are in the kitchens, behind the bars or in other labor jobs, but the management staff is white. What would you like to say to our readers?”

  “I don’t hire people on the basis of color. I believe everyone is equal.” Seth knew he was simply jabbering, trying to find the right words. “I just hire from the applicant pool I have. I can’t make blacks—African Americans—apply for the jobs.”

  “I always end my interviews by asking people a simple question. What would you like people to know about you that they may not know?”

  “I’m a good guy,” Seth told her, resentfully. “I’m not a racist.”

  Tatum stared at the small cream-colored card with the strong black writing. She sat at her desk smelling the sweet scent of flowers. She’d assumed it was over when she turned Seth down the previous night. He’d sounded like he was going to let it go. Apparently, she’d thought wrong. Seth sent flowers along with an invitation to join him at Score.

  She wasn’t impressed. She was angry. She wanted to be left alone.

  “Tatum and an admirer sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Adam sang, then started dancing in the outer office.

  She shook her head. She didn’t need this, especially from her boss. “Adam, aren’t you supposed to be working on some case or other?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me,” Adam joked as he sat on the end of her desk.

  “Yeah you do. It’s you v. get-off-my-back.” She didn’t care if he knew she was angry.

  Adam ignored her. “Who’s the lucky gent?”

  “There’s no lucky gentleman. The guy won’t leave me alone.”

  Adam sounded protective. “You aren’t attracted to him? He won’t take no for an answer?”

  She didn’t want him to think Seth was a stalker. “No. I’m just not interested in a relationship right now.”

  “When are you ever interested in a relationship?”

  Tatum gave him a dirty look. Adam took the card and read it. “Why don’t you just go and tell him you’re not interested?”

  She hadn’t thought of that, actually, and wasn’t sure it was the truth. “I don’t know.”

  Adam threw the card on the desk and walked to his office. “If Erica calls, tell her I’m dead.”

  The phone rang and Tatum answered. “Adam Norris, Attorney at Law.”

  Chapter 4

  Although it took her hours to find the right outfit, it took her just minutes to decide to do it. Tatum had to tell him why she didn’t want to date him. She had to protect herself from the ridicule and pain he would put her through. She had no other choice. Tatum was sure this would happen, that he would mistreat her.

  This was the first time she was able to sit in Score and do what she did best, take it all in. She liked the atmosphere. She watched people, silently making funny assumptions based upon their looks or their mode of dress and was just beginning to feel comfortable when she heard, “Tatum.” Seth bent over and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you for joining me.”

  “Well, this isn’t exactly what you might think. I don’t consider this a date.”

  He sat down. “You don’t?”

  “I’m here to tell you that I appreciate your…interest in me, but I don’t want a relationship right now.”

  Seth studied her. He wasn’t convinced. “Did I do something to insult you?”

  “No,” Tatum said quickly, dismissing his concerns out of hand and not wanting to really talk about why this was the case for her. “You are a perfect gentleman.”

  “Is i
t because I’m white?”

  This time she hesitated, taken aback a little by the question. “No.”

  “Why don’t I believe that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Listen, I’d rather you turn me down because you think I’m a jerk and not over something I can’t control.”

  “I know. I mean, I agree.” She knew she was babbling.

  “So why don’t you give me a chance?”

  Tatum couldn’t take it anymore. She was tired of skirting around the truth. She imagined her therapist would be proud.

  She found herself encasing her hands in his and telling the truth. “Honestly, I’m not rejecting you because of your race. I…I just have some issues of my own about class and wealth. Unfortunately, they aren’t issues I created but that were given to me.”

  He caressed the inside of her hand. “Tell me about them.”

  “I don’t think so.” She suddenly realized what was taking place between them and pulled her hand away.

  “Why not?” Seth reached for her hand again.

  She placed both hands under the table. “You wouldn’t want to air your dirty laundry to a total stranger, would you?”

  He winked at her. “I’d tell you anything you wanted to know. I’m not afraid of you. I adore you.”

  Tatum looked away before speaking again, distracted by what he said about adoring her. “I am attracted to you, but I’ve been raised to know that there’s a good chance you’re going to betray me in some way.”

  “You mean cheat on you or something worse?”

  “No. I mean, I can take the normal relationship problems. I just don’t want to be in a relationship with a rich man who only wants to—”

  “Slum?”

  “Yeah.”

  Seth dismissed the statement with a wave. “Listen, I’ve been in enough relationships with women who didn’t have money to know I’m not experimenting.”

  Surprised, Tatum glanced away.

  Seth noticed her discomfort. “Yeah, I’m sorry to tell you that you wouldn’t be my first relationship where I had more money.” He smugly leaned back in his chair.

  Embarrassed he knew she was surprised, she told him, “No, I just didn’t…I wasn’t thinking you were involved…”

  He chuckled, and his blue eyes sparkled. His tone was low and teasing. “Will I be your first?”

  “Who says you’re going to be anything to me?” She tapped her fingers hard in a rapid session of bam, bam, bam on the table.

  Seth smirked.

  “No,” she told him.

  “I’ve had a problem with the word no since my mother first said it when I was a toddler.”

  “There’s therapy for that.”

  He laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Listen, how about you join me for a drink?”

  Tatum hesitated.

  “Come on. If you’re going to reject me, you might as well enjoy it with a drink.”

  She agreed, but she stressed as firmly as she could that this was all that would happen between them. Her tone was firm, bordering on a warning. “I’m not staying long. I have to be at the office early.”

  Seth summoned a waiter. Neither spoke as they watched the waiter quickly place drinks in front of them. Tatum found she missed the heat of Seth’s hands.

  “So,” Seth paused to take a gulp of alcoholic beverage, “you never answered my question. Will I be your first interracial relationship?”

  “Why is that so important?” she said, trying to deflect his question.

  “I thought we were opening ourselves up to each other.”

  Tatum corrected him. “No. I am telling you that we don’t have a future together.”

  “Because I’m going to fool you into thinking that I love you then break things off because you’re not wealthy enough.”

  “Yes.” She was happy he understood.

  “So you’re basing our whole entire relationship on what someone claims?”

  “You don’t understand. It has been drilled into my head like I was programmed or something. I’m trying to get past this attitude, but it will take time.” She tapped her index finger on the base of her wine glass.

  “Then let me help you get past it.”

  She was going to tell him she had a therapist to do that but decided against it. “No.”

  Seth grabbed her hand, stopping the tapping. “Listen, I can’t tell you that I won’t hurt you. I won’t pretend that I can’t be a bastard sometimes, but I’m positive about one thing. I’m never going to degrade you or leave you based on your bank account or, I don’t know, because you’re African American.”

  “Black.”

  “What?” He looked bewildered.

  “I prefer the term black. African American or anything like that denotes ethnicity and not race. I’m black.” She sounded like an elementary teacher explaining a lesson.

  Seth nodded like he was making a mental note. “You do understand what I’m saying? I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Tatum didn’t match his intense stare. She didn’t want to understand. She had to survive her past, not continue to run from it, and she was sure he would interrupt the progress she’d made if she let him into her life any further than he had already intruded.

  “Yes, I know what you’re saying.”

  He looked relieved. “So, we have had a meeting of the minds and understand one another.”

  Tatum shook her head. “Our ‘meeting of the minds’ is not going to change my mind.”

  He leaned back in his seat and studied her. “Are you really this stubborn, or is it just when you’re with me?”

  “I’m not stubborn.” She gave him a disdainful look.

  “Fine, I have a perfect solution.”

  “I already told you the perfect solution. We won’t date.”

  Seth dismissed her statement. “Listen. Take advantage of me?”

  “What?” Tatum tilted her head forward to make sure he didn’t hit his head while she wasn’t looking.

  He waved his hand in the air. “Whatever you want to call it. Have your way with me, pimp me. Whatever.”

  “How will that change anything?”

  “If you do to me what you fear I will do to you, then I…” He stopped, exasperated. “Ok, maybe it doesn’t make sense, but I’m willing to do anything to prove that we belong together.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not willing to find out,” Tatum forcefully told him before leaving.

  “Thank God the weekend’s finally here.” Tatum flopped down on her couch in relief.

  It was Saturday, and the only one who was in a good mood was Tatum. That wasn’t usually the case. Karla, who had made a surprise visit to her apartment, was upset. She kept pacing in front of the television like she was waiting for the doctor to arrive and tell her how a patient’s surgery had gone. Tatum was tempted to say something, but she didn’t want to ruin her good mood.

  “What?” Tatum said finally when Karla stopped pacing and looked at her.

  “I want to go out. I hate staying in on a Saturday night.”

  “Go ahead. I don’t mind staying in.” Tatum waved her hand toward the front door.

  “Come on, girl. Be adventurous.”

  Tatum reached blindly for the remote on the table behind the couch. “You make it sound like I never go anywhere.”

  “You don’t.”

  “Fine,” Tatum said reluctantly, but she knew her friend was right. “Why don’t we go out to eat? I’m starving anyway.”

  Karla was excited. “I’ll drive.”

  By Tatum’s estimate, they should have been at the restaurant almost an hour ago. However, they were still driving. Karla had changed her mind twice about where she wanted to go. First, she had a craving for fast food then decided she was hungry enough for a buffet restaurant. They were driving further and further away from the city each time she changed her mind.

  Once Karla made the final decision, Tatum felt uneasy. They were venturing out to Tri-County, a p
opular shopping area where three Ohio counties lines met…and miles away from Cincinnati.

  She didn’t like being so far away from the city. Cincinnati was in Hamilton County and was the largest city in the area, surrounded by smaller cities and townships. A lot of these places didn’t offer bus service back to the city, if needed. Normally, Tatum wouldn’t feel this on edge, but she wasn’t driving. She didn’t feel in control of the situation because she couldn’t leave whenever she wanted.

  “Why are we stopping?” Tatum nearly shouted.

  Karla parallel parked on a quiet street with big houses and expensive cars. Tatum couldn’t tell where they were. It was too dark. The uneasy feeling became panic. She trusted her friend but was fearful she was on a rampage because her earlier mood.

  “Girl, I’m sorry.”

  Tatum frowned. They’d left the car and were walking to a beige-colored, huge house in the middle of the row of houses. Suddenly, Tatum felt like the crazy one. She had no idea why she was still following her friend or where they might be going.

  “What are you sorry about?”

  “I’m sorry that I forgot I needed to make this stop first. It shouldn’t take long. You’ll be back at home in no time.”

  “Whose house is this?” Tatum asked, not knowing if her jeans and cotton shirt amounted to being underdressed or overdressed for the occasion.

  Karla didn’t answer. She knocked on the door and a man answered dressed in jeans, a red and white Ohio State Buckeyes basketball jersey and a backwards grey basketball cap. He was paying more attention to the flat screen television on the living room wall than to Karla and Tatum.

  A large group of people, mostly male, cheered from the living room. Tatum closed the front door, not comfortable about joining Karla and the stranger in the living room. So, she stayed in the large hallway and reluctantly began the process of becoming familiar with her surroundings.

  She looked around. Everything seemed to either be beige or dark brown. Whoever owned this place definitely loved the color brown.

  “Karla, you made it.”

  Tatum turned toward the voice and instantly closed her eyes. The last thing she expected to hear was Seth’s booming voice. She was so scared that she was about leave. She had no idea where she would go, but it wasn’t important. She had to get away from Seth.

 

‹ Prev