Passin'

by Karen E. Quinones Miller

  She felt bad about not following up with Jenice about going to Harlem to attend Sunday service at Abyssinian Baptist Church, but she hadn’t really wanted to see the woman.

  Lucky for her, and too bad for Paxon & Green, Jenice had been out on vacation for the past two weeks, so Hal’s team actually had been down two people. She had come back two days before, but Nikkie had managed to avoid her. She wasn’t yet prepared to hear Jenice celebrating her new relationship with Tyrone. There was no doubt in her mind that the two had hit it off. They probably had a lot in common. Both were young, drop-dead gorgeous, intelligent, and, most important, African-American. She just hoped she didn’t get invited to the wedding.

  “There you are!” Jenice’s head popped into her cubicle. “How are you doing? Keeping busy?”

  Now, isn’t this ironic? Talk about thinking somebody up.

  “Hey, Jenice. Come on in. Seems to me, you’re the really busy one this week.”

  “Yeah, with Hal being MIA and all,” Jenice said as she sat in a chair. “Of course you don’t know why he’s out, right?”

  Nikkie said nothing.

  Jenice chuckled. “Old secretive Nikkie. No problem. I’m assuming it ended between you two. I hope it didn’t end badly.”

  Nikkie just smiled and shrugged. “So how do you like being team leader while Hal’s gone?”

  “Ah yes! Change the subject.” Jenice chuckled. “But I’m not team leader—Vaughn Spencer has stepped into that role. But I do have more input into what’s going on. People are actually asking my advice, and, more surprising, they’re paying attention.” She gave a little laugh. “But, listen, I wanted to talk to you about your friend Tyrone.”

  “Yes, I’ve been dying to ask how the two of you have been hitting it off,” Nikkie lied while opening her desk drawer and retrieving an emery board. “So? Have I put together a love match?”

  Jenice wrinkled her nose. “Maybe, but not between him and me.”

  “Really?” Nikkie’s emery board was suspended in the air, mid-stroke. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we’ve actually been out twice. That first evening we went to B. Smith’s, like he said, and we had a pretty good time, but he kept making it a point to tell me that I reminded him of one of his sisters. He said I looked like her, talked like her, had a lot of the same mannerisms—he just kept going on and on. I didn’t know quite how to take it, you know? It’s not like he said I remind him of his mother; I

  mean, that’s an obvious no-no.”

  “Uh-huh” was all Nikkie could say.

  “So when he took me home, and he took me home right after dinner, he told me he had a great time. Then he said we should go out again, and of course I said yes. I mean, the man is fine. So two nights later he takes me to this really fancy restaurant—One Fifth Avenue, down in the Village—and we’re talking just a few minutes and then he starts saying that he feels so comfortable talking to me and that he was going to unofficially adopt me as his little sister.”

  “Huh? You’ve got to be kidding! What the hell is that about?”

  “Girl, you tell me! I mean, I played it off, but I was shocked as all hell!”

  “I know you were!”

  “And then he spends the rest of the evening asking about another woman.”

  Nikkie’s heart took a plunge. “Who?” she asked, hoping the disappointment wasn’t apparent in her voice.

  “You! He wanted to know how long we’d known each other, what you were like, and all kinds of crap. I was flabbergasted.”

  “Oh no!” Oh yeah! “I had no idea—”

  Jenice waved her hand. “Girl, please, I know. Then it became all clear to me. He asked us out because he wanted an opportunity to be with you, not me. And then when he was stuck with me, he had to come up with some way to avoid the ‘she won’t go out with me because I went out with her girlfriend’ syndrome you know we can put guys through. So he came up with the ‘you’re like a sister to me’ routine.

  Gotta hand it to him, though. Pretty damn slick. He even called to see if I wanted to go to a basketball game sometime this season.”

  “Are you going?”

  Jenice huffed up. “Are you kidding? I don’t want anything to do with a black man trying to chase behind some white woman.”

  Nikkie’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, and so did Jenice’s as soon as she realized what she’d just said. They were silent for a moment, and then they spontaneously broke out in rip-roaring laughter.

  “Oh, my God! I can’t believe you said that!” Nikkie managed to get out.

  “Neither can I!” Jenice howled. “But you know what I mean!”

  “I know!” Nikkie nodded her head. “I know!”

  The women both had tears rolling down their faces by now, and Nikkie struggled to keep quiet before other coworkers started streaming by to see what was going on. She turned back to Jenice. “But you know that—”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t! And that’s what counts, right?”

  The women started cracking up again.

  “Okay, okay, let’s try and calm down,” Nikkie finally said after a few minutes.

  “All right. We can try.” Jenice dabbed at her eyes with a tissue she fished from her purse. “Listen, I didn’t mean to be offensive—”

  “No offense taken.”

  “But, honestly, I do feel some kind of way about black men who go out with white women. And he made such a big deal about your being white. Saying that you are really pretty for a white woman, and you had a pretty nice butt for

  a white woman. It was sickening, you know?”

  “Jenice?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Let me ask you something. You knew the first time you saw me that I was African-American. How’d you know?” Nikkie paused. “I mean, it’s not like most people can simply look and tell, you know? Especially when I’m not doing anything black at the moment. You know what I mean, right?”

  Jenice nodded. “Yeah.”

  “So how did you know?”

  “Well, remember me telling you that I lived in a series of foster care homes? Well, a couple of the foster parents were white, and one had this other foster kid that was like you, and I just assumed she was white. I was like ten, and she was maybe a year older. Anyway, I made some kind of racial crack—I think I called her a redneck or something— and homegirl commenced to giving me a sho-nuff black ass whuppin’.” The women started laughing again. “After being around her, I guess it just became easy for me to tell somehow.”

  Nikkie thought about it for a moment. “How do you think Tyrone would feel if he were to, you know—”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it wouldn’t make a difference to him, maybe it would. I still wouldn’t be able to stand him because—”

  “I know. Because—”

  “I mean, there he had a beautiful and intelligent African-American woman sitting across from him and all he was doing was thinking about crossing the color line. How insulting is that?”

  Nikkie nodded. She knew where Jenice was coming from, but at the moment she really didn’t care too much. The important thing was that Tyrone Bennett was interested in her. Now, she wondered, what was her next move? It just might be she’d found her ticket back to herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was Tyrone who made the first move, calling her that very afternoon to ask her to lunch the next day, and sending over a large bouquet of red roses when she said yes, causing a bunch of “oohs” and “aahs” from the women in the office. Then he called her home that evening. He confirmed her original thought that he had been intrigued by her since their first meeting, and would have invited her when they were outside the campaign office, but was uncertain when Hal showed up.

  “You didn’t have anything to worry about with Hal—”

  “I know,” Tyrone said, cutting her off. “I just don’t care too much for the man. It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you about it sometime. But let’s stay on a more pleasant subject,
shall we? What kind of food do you like?”

  They talked into the wee hours of the morning, and Nikkie arrived at Paxon & Green a little before 7:30 a.m. on Friday, determined to get all of her work done early so that no one would complain if she took a long lunch hour, or if she decided not to return to the office at all. She didn’t know what to expect, but she wanted to be able to go with the flow.

  It was shortly before 11 a.m. when she heard a tap on her desk and looked up from the press release she was writing. It was Hal.

  “Good morning,” he said in his usual cheerful voice, though his face was drawn, and he looked a little thinner. “I see you’re hard at work.”

  “Yeah, just trying to stay ahead of the game. You know how it is.” She stood up and walked over to him. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. Are you okay?”

  “Sure, sure. I just needed to get away for a little bit. I flew down to Salt Lake City to spend a few days with the folks.” He smiled reassuringly. “I’m not supposed to be back in the office until Monday, but I thought I’d go ahead and pop in today so they can see I’m back on kilter.”

  Is that liquor I smell on his breath? When did Hal start drinking? I thought it was against his religion. And this early in the morning, and at work? “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked in a more concerned voice.

  He patted her on the cheek. “Look, I’m fine. It’s not the first time I’ve been dumped. Hopefully”—he chuckled—“it’ll be the last. But either way I’ll survive. And we’re okay. Okay?”

  She thought about asking him about the series of hang-ups, and whether there had been repercussions about his absence, and especially about the scent of brandy on his breath, but thought she’d best leave well enough alone. If he wanted to talk about it, he’d do it in his own time.

  So instead, she simply smiled and said, “Okay.”

  As soon as he left the office, she picked up the telephone and called Tyrone’s cell phone. He had said he’d pick her up at the office to take her to lunch, but now with Hal back, she thought it would be best if they met at the restaurant. When the call went straight through to voice mail, she called his office.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bennett has already left the office and he’s not expected back in until Monday.”

  Damn.

  Nikkie put on a fresh coat of lipstick after the receptionist called to tell her that Tyrone was waiting in the lobby. She took a quick look in the mirror, fluffed her hair, and headed out the door, her heart beating fast. She gasped when she saw him. Not because of his appearance, which was impeccable, but because he was carrying a bouquet of roses even larger than the one he’d sent the day before.

  “Nikkie, so good to see you.” He strode over to her and handed her the flowers, then leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear, and whispered, “I hope I’m not embarrassing you. I just can’t seem to walk or drive by a florist without wanting to buy out the store since I’ve met you.”

  “Well, thank you. These are just beautiful. I’ll just . . .” She looked around, wondering if she should walk back to the office to drop off the flowers or if she was expected to take them with her.

  The receptionist came to her rescue. “Miss Jensen, would you like me to put those in some water for you?”

  Nikkie smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Sharon.” She turned back around to face Tyrone just in time to see the big boss, Arthur Kadinsky, striding toward them.

  “Tyrone, you old dog. What are you doing here? Come to give me some insider secrets, are you?” He pounded Tyrone on the back as they shook hands.

  “No, actually I’m here to kidnap one of your employees.

  I’m taking the lovely Miss Jensen out to lunch.” He picked up Nikkie’s hand and kissed it.

  He’s laying it on thick, and okay, I’m loving it. He really knows how to stake his claim.

  “Well, I won’t presume to impose on your luncheon plans, but I’ll ride down the elevator with you. I’ve got a board meeting over at Rockefeller Center.”

  The two men talked politics and the stock market while they waited for the elevator, but Tyrone grabbed her hand and gave it a little squeeze as if to let her know that he wasn’t ignoring her. He didn’t let go of her hand after the squeeze, and when the elevator door opened, they walked in, holding hands, though he and Kadinsky were still chatting away. It wasn’t until after she turned around in the elevator that she saw who had boarded behind him—a tight-lipped Hal Richardson and a nervous-looking Jenice Hanford.

  Tyrone and Kadinsky were engrossed in conversation, and hadn’t noticed them, and Nikkie prayed the elevator would make no stops between the forty-second floor and the downstairs lobby. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. But it was lunch hour, and every two or three floors more people were getting on. They had made it to the thirty-first floor when Hal moved closer to her and said in a low voice, “I can’t believe you ditched me for a black guy.”

  Nikkie blushed beet red and said nothing, but her silence seemed to piss Hal off. They’d only made it down to the twenty-eighth floor when Hal said loud enough for everyone to hear: “I said, I can’t believe you dumped me for a black guy.”

  Mr. Kadinsky: “What?”

  Tyrone Bennett: “I beg your pardon?”

  Nicole Jensen: “Oh God, please!”

  Jenice Hanford: “Excuse me, I’m getting off at the next floor.”

  “Mind your business. I was talking to the lady,” Hal snarled at Tyrone.

  “Hal, please! Let’s not—”

  “No. I think it was a fair question! And I think I deserve an answer!” Hal was shouting now. “You dumped me for him? Why didn’t you just tell me you had a thing for black guys, Nikkie?”

  Tyrone pulled Nikkie behind him.

  “Hal, you’re totally out of line, here.” Mr. Kadinsky’s face was turning almost as red as Nikkie’s. “Tyrone, I apologize for—”

  “You don’t have to apologize to him for me! If I were sorry, I’d say so. But I’m not. And he can go straight to hell. And if he’s not careful, I’ll help him get there!”

  Tyrone’s face was impassive as he said, “I’m not a person with whom you want to tangle.”

  Kadinsky started furiously jabbing at the elevator buttons. “Hal, you’re getting off at the very next floor.”

  “Is he? Then I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll be staying on the elevator, after all,” Jenice said nervously.

  “Oh, you’re not a person I want to tangle with, huh?” Hal threw his head back and laughed. “What’s with you people? You think all white people are afraid of you just because you’re black? Well, this white boy will kick your ass.”

  “I wasn’t planning on resorting to fisticuffs,” Tyrone said coolly. “But I will sue the hell out of you. And I’m sure my lawyer can, as you say, kick your lawyer’s ass.”

  “Get off the elevator now!” Kadinsky shouted as the elevator doors opened at the fifteenth floor.

  Hal ignored him. “Why let your lawyers do your fighting for you, Bennett? Why not be a man about it?”

  “You’re making a fool of yourself.” Tyrone shook his head in disgust. “Calm down, man.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down!” Hal reared back to take a punch, eliciting a large gasp from everyone in the elevator as they all tried to rush into one corner.

  “Hal, please!” Nikkie shouted as Tyrone pushed her to the floor.

  Tyrone ducked out of the way just in time, and Hal’s punch landed on the back of the elevator wall, grazing Jenice’s forehead. Tyrone pulled his fist back to land a blow of his own, but he was too late.

  “Heeyah!” Jenice landed a karate chop to Hal’s throat and followed up with two quick jabs to the man’s face. “Hoowah!” she shouted as she brought her knee up hard into his groin. And just as the elevator doors opened, she let out with a punch to his chest that propelled him backward into three people who were waiting to board.

  “Go ’head, Jenice,” Nikkie said as she scrambled up
from the floor. Kadinsky had grabbed the elevator telephone and was yelling for security.

  “Reflexes,” Jenice said sheepishly. “And I just went for my purple belt last weekend.”

  Tyrone whistled appreciatively. “Sista’s got some skills.”

  Jenice looked over at Kadinsky to make sure he wasn’t paying attention, then stepped in closer to Tyrone. “For the record, I’m not your sista, or your sister. Got it?”

  Tyrone’s face first registered shock, and then contempt. “Got it,” he said brusquely.

  “Security is going after Richardson. I’ve told them to hold him in the lobby, and I understand perfectly if you want to press charges, Tyrone. In fact, I encourage you to do so. This is a total embarrassment.” Kadinsky straightened his tie, looked over the people still on the elevator, then cleared his throat before saying: “I hope you do realize that man’s views are definitely not those of Paxon and Green. Our company stands firmly behind biracial relationships.”

  Now what? Nikkie wondered as she and Tyrone waited to be seated. She’d let the perfect opportunity go by, two perfect opportunities actually, to let him know that she wasn’t white. The first, when Hal made the statement about her liking black guys, and the second, when Mr. Kadinsky made the ludicrous statement about the company’s stance on race relations. She was hoping that she’d not have to say anything at all, just start acting like her natural self, and nudge him until he got the picture. And if and when he came out and asked because of the nudging, she’d say, “Of course. Didn’t you know I was black?” and then gaily laugh.

  But if she let on now, he’d wonder why she hadn’t said anything then. He’d know that she didn’t just look white, she was passing for white. That would be much harder to simply laugh off. She’d have to wait for another opportunity to ease into the subject. She just didn’t know how or when.

  “I’m so sorry we had to go through all that drama back at your office,” Tyrone said for the two hundredth time once they were seated and after he ordered their food. “I suppose it was my fault, I shouldn’t have been so demonstrative at your workplace. And, believe me, I wouldn’t have been, had I