by Katie Dowe
He thanked the man who had been in his family’s service for many years and went inside the large structure. People hustled in and out, greeted loved ones arriving or said goodbye to those departing. Brett walked alone. Oddly, he wasn’t always aware of his loneliness, but today for some reason, it was very obvious to him.
The group ahead of him was a family. The mother shielded a new baby to her chest while a small girl and boy ran around their father’s feet playing hide and seek. They giggled and screeched in excitement as they shuffled forward to the ticketing agent who smiled at the band and took their information.
Looking down at his lowly bag and empty side, Brett wondered if his definition of wealth was skewed. As the father took the baby from the mother’s arms, she took control of the rowdy crowd and led the party away. Brett concluded that despite the chaos of controlling a sprouting family, they were the rich ones.
The woman on the intercom didn’t have good news. The gray, cool cloud that once hovered overhead, now was releasing fat raindrops by the billions. It was going to be this way for a while. There was nothing to do but wait.
Wandering over to a very stately decorated food court, Brett chose a latte from a designer coffee shop and a scone from a small patisserie set up like an old box cart. Making his way back to the circular couch on which he waited, he observed the souvenir and trinket shops on the far end of the hall. Funny, each and every single time he had been inside the airport, he had never walked about or explored it - he simply didn’t have time to. He was a busy man running a multi billion dollar firm, exploration wasn’t a part of his daily routine.
Biting into the slightly sweet exterior crust of the pastry, Brett wondered if this could have been avoided if he had taken the private jet. It was sitting in the hangar in a separate compound from the main airport, but William insisted on claiming it for the week stating he was just as entitled to use it as Brett. To avoid another unnecessary battle, Brett opted to just fly first class on a regular plane like everyone else. Sometimes it did people like him, lonely and stuck in large offices, good to mix with the regular folk. Brett never believed he was too good for that.
Scrunching up the orange fancy tissue paper that surrounded his baked treat, Brett rose from his position and dropped it along with the empty cup into the trash. Walking the direction of the men’s room, he relieved himself before making his way to the trinket shops he has seen earlier.
They seemed like more from further away but in reality only five small booths made up the shopping area. A mix of local candy and silly little flags made up the first two booths, while the third sold miniature liquor packed into little baskets. The redhead at the fourth booth smiled nervously as she answered his questions about the fragrance of a particularly colorful soap he pointed out. She rambled on about the ingredients and the process of making soap from scratch while Brett’s eye became distracted by something much more interesting.
A black woman leaned over the counter of her booth, explaining to a plump lady about the composition of a dramatic looking necklace she held in her hand. Stunning as the necklace was, the round posterior of the necklace holder was much more enchanting. Absentmindedly nodding in agreement with whatever the redhead had said, he watched the woman wrap up the purchase and hand it to the customer who seemed more please than punch.
Walking back to a small table at the end of her booth, she sat where she became deeply engaged in the creation of another piece. Cutting off his current one sided conversation with the sales clerk convincing him about rainbow colored soap, he thanked her and excused himself.
Circling the booth with the necklaces, Brett inspected a few and admired the intricacy of the beading. The detail and patience taken to create such delicate work must come from a very artistic person and that person was so focused on her work that she was yet to acknowledge him. He said excuse me several times, but she didn’t hear him. The blonde streak at the front of her hair drew attention to her wrinkled forehead and tight jaw. She was the picture of concentration.
In his most authoritative voice he said, “Excuse me, can I find out about the materials used in this piece?” Finally his voice got through to her, and her sparkling black eyes looked up from her working hands.
“Certainly” she responded and quickly got up and strode to his side.
He watched her glide over, swaying her hips in a hypnotic way she appeared to be unaware of. Wrapping her fingers around the piece of jewelry and extracting it from its stand, she placed it on a velvet mat in front of Brett, who stood mesmerized by more than the necklace directly ahead of him. He watched her transform into an art curator as she pointed out the source of each bead and the origin of the leather string holding together the piece.
She should wear orange all the time. The glow of the fabric seemed to polish her already smooth cinnamon skin and her hair framed her heart shaped face. It took a second to realize that she had finished speaking and was waiting for his next question. No words came as a once eloquent and articulate Brett was reduced to speechlessness. Filling the verbal void, Natalie asked, “Is it for someone special?”
Their little exchange lasted through a few more jokes before Brett and Natalie listened to the woman on the intercom announce that flights would be resuming soon. Wishing the rain would have kept on pouring so he could keep looking into this woman’s eyes, Brett’s face became serious and straight. In a few minutes Natalie had left an impression on him and he wanted her to know that.
As she replaced her precious handmade jewels into the glass case, Brett reached into his pocket and fetched his business card. It was a simple black glossy rectangle bearing only his name, email address and number. It was intentionally ambiguous. Thanking her for spending time with him, he placed the card in her warm palm and stepped back slowly. He would look forward to her call more than she knew.
On the way back to the departure lounge, Brett became aware of the stiffening member along his leg and his once white face became flushed with embarrassment. The woman had stimulated him in a very real way. He wondered what it would be like for chocolate and vanilla to mix together in his bed. He imagined how her eyes would be as she looked up from pleasuring him and he imagined how her brown hand would look as it stroked his pale cock. This was a magnetic attraction and regardless of how taboo it would be with his family, it would be a challenge he would more than happily take on. Brett hoped she would call.
Chapter 4
This would make the third time Natalie read the application in an hour. Why the hell was she hesitant to try anything? It was a mere matter of filling out the form and paying the two hundred dollar booth fee. The pen hovered over the page and all she managed to write was her name. The form was sent to her by the small business association she was a member of. The expo, an annual event, exposed small business owners to buyers, fashion designers and other select investors or Managers of companies interested in featuring the budding product lines.
The question looming in her mind had been there for as long as she could remember, ‘Was she good enough?’ Yes, the sales of her jewelry had increased and the online store was doing well. Positioning herself as a Jewelry Artist rather than a mere stringer of beads, had allowed her to price her pieces higher than average and the work gave her immense satisfaction and fulfillment.
Still she worried. Suppose no one came to her booth? Suppose the buyers didn’t find her creations exquisite enough? This internal battle was ongoing and there and then Natalie decided to put an end to it. In confident letters, she filled in every piece of information and placed the complete form back into the envelope already stamped with return postage. She would send it off in the morning and this weekend she would begin to create pieces so stunning that the queen herself would be proud to wear them. Her self imposed pressure was on.
*****
The night before the expo may have been chaotic for some participants but tonight Natalie relaxed. She had created thirty new samples and their duplicates were sitting in velvet c
ases for those who wished to purchase. Freshly printed business cards and flyers sat in boxes and tomorrows outfit had been chosen. Natalie was ready.
The fluffy couch in her little apartment beckoned to her and with a glass of red wine, she answered it. Flicking through the channels, Natalie finally selected a romantic movie. Since the breakup, she hadn’t been interested in romance - not even for entertainment purposes. Admittedly, since Brett’s visit, her mind wandered.
A white man had never been an option for her before, but something about him created a stirring deep inside her. The card he left with her remained in her purse with all the other cards passed to her in the course of business. She had not called. It was alright to admire someone, but actually perusing any romantic interests was another matter. Natalie wasn’t sure she possessed the energy necessary to climb the hill of romance and eventually heart break. It was a cycle, a merry go round of misery that she had no intention of riding again.
Yes, he was white, but he was a man and at the end of the day all men did the same thing - demanded all your time and attention, demanded you adapt to their wishes and desires, demanded you morph into some freakish version of yourself to become more acceptable. Natalie wasn’t up to it and presently, she had nothing left to give anyone.
Ironically, the movie on the screen was about a black guy dating a white girl. His family wasn’t accepting of the supposed addition to the family and her family was yet to find out. Was the universe trying to tell her something? Laughing as she sipped her wine and took in the actors take on biracial relationships, Natalie muttered to herself, “This is my time of peace. I will leave the white man alone.”
*****
The expo began at nine am but the participants were asked arrive for seven thirty am. If you had a larger display you were given a midnight pass. Taking advantage of the early access, sculptors and painters had set up elaborate displays for their works. The entrepreneurs with the more manageable pieces strolled in along with her to begin their set up.
The variety of products available were extensive. Clothing designers, toy creators, and technological whizzes with gadgets, natural product makers and exercise gurus all had a place in the gigantic hall. The event, hosted in the Tropical Grande Hotel, was touted to be the launching pad for success and all present understood that this could be their last day as a small business and today could decide their fate.
To the far side of the hall, mounted on the two Grecian pillars, was banner announcing the top three success stories of last years expo. None of them were jewelry designers. Diverting her attention to the task of preparation, Natalie reminded herself that anything good was possible. She has chosen a Bohemian theme for her display with her favorite colors splashed everywhere. Natalie chose an open approach for her display. Arranging cardboard cylinders recycled from the town newspaper’s printing press in a forest of sorts, Natalie placed the tubes of different heights in her designated 6x12 space. Draping them dramatically in orange, turquoise and rust, she then placed on top of each one, a small birds nest made from recycled newspaper spray painted in gold. Under each nest was a small glowing light, illuminating the delicate jewelry cradled within it.
Stock was hauled over in the old Toyota from her airport booth to compliment the signature pieces designed for this special occasion. Rings, bracelets and earrings sparkled as they dangled on the silver painted, haunting, bare branch planted in a rustic looking pot. Imitating a tree was this branch’s finest moment as its finger-like twigs reached out, inviting the onlooker to step into the enchanting grove.
Natalie had spoken to the maintenance men, moving around the hall, to dim the light directly above her booth before adding the small battery operated candles next to each decorated cylinder. Finally, Natalie snapped together four lengths of PVC piping to create a tall rectangle. Mounting it in two small brackets she placed it to the entrance of her booth and finally draped two sheer curtains in her signature colors over the top. Binding each curtain back with a tasseled tie and fixing the sign announcing ‘Emerge’ was open for business, she was finished.
She stepped back to admire what she personally considered to be the best looking booth in the whole place. Apparently other participants agreed and passed by to look at the creation. Even if she didn’t reap the success she hoped for, Natalie was proud of her set up, it was an accurate representation of her work. Warm, inviting, unique and alluring.
There was a man with a clipboard and a number of cell phones attached to his hip, loudly announcing that the doors would be open in fifteen minutes. Natalie was ready.
At exactly nine thirty the doors to the grand hall in the Tropical Grande hotel opened and the first interested buyers strolled through. Natalie was proud of herself and it showed as she spoke to the many important people who showed interest in her work. At least the fear that no one would stop by was eliminated and as the day progressed, she was confident that even if a single buyer didn’t call, she had represented herself well.
The hall bustled with people moving to and fro, and as the wave of humans inside her booth receded, Natalie took a deep breath and smiled. Taking a seat on the far side of the booth, she took stock of the pieces that sold and the cards of people that promised they would call to solidify business arrangements. In the midst of her concentration she heard a voice say, “Good day.”
And she quickly rose to her feet to greet her latest visitor. He was tall, broad chested and awfully familiar. Sticking out her hand Natalie said, “Hi there, welcome to Emerge. I can answer any questions you may have about anything that piques your interest.”
Shaking her extended hand, he replied, “Thanks for the welcome. I love your set up.”
The man took a few seconds longer than necessary to release her hand and somehow when he referred to her set up, she didn’t think he meant her jewelry display. Extracting her hand from his as professionally as possible, Natalie smiled and cocked her head to the side. “Feel free to take a look and we can discuss any piece you like.”
Smiling lazily, the man whose name tag simply read ‘VIP’, strolled around the cylinders and began firing questions about pricing and stock availability in rapid succession. He wanted to know the time from order to shipping. He wanted to know how she cornered her niche market and how ‘exclusive’ could she really make her business. He was a bulldog snapping hard, but she was the charming poodle crooning out responses with poise and assurance.
Exhausting his artillery of questions, the man, satisfied with her answers, smiled again before saying, “My name is Will and I may have a very interesting proposition for you. My company is launching a new addition to its collection of businesses and I think what you have created here would be a more than formidable match. Are you free to meet with me next week and discuss a possible arrangement?”
Natalie was a business woman to the end and before she committed to any meeting she wanted to know more - who did he work for and did they have experience with marketing fine apparel such as hers? Would this be a contractual arrangement or a buyout proposal… she needed answers.
Will answered in long sentences without really saying anything much and Natalie was aware of his side stepping. As he reached in his pocket to retrieve his card, a man in a dark suit and sunglasses appeared at his side. “Mr. Haughton,” he said, “You left the party, but they have indicated they wish to retire to the Sun Glow Restaurant on the top floor lunch. Do you wish to join them?”
Ignoring the man at his elbow, Will handed the card to Natalie with parting words, “I’m going to have Joan. My secretary pencil you in for ten am on Monday morning. Shall I send a car to pick you up?”
He was laying it on too thick and Natalie grew suspicious of his intentions. He was flirting and offering way too much. Either he was interested in her or, her business was more valuable than she thought. Smiling and accepting the card she said, “You know what Will, I will be there. And no thanks regarding the car, I will get there on my own.”
Finally acknowledgin
g the man, Will walked away from Emerge.
*****
Brett was very aware that Natalie didn’t call. After their exchange in the airport, he had no reason to pass that way again. William had relinquished his hold on the private jet and the hangar he used wasn’t exactly in her way. He considered returning, but he didn’t want to appear like a stalker. His flight was filled with nothing but imaginings of Natalie that would make most people blush. He was on a business trip, but his mind was filled with nothing but pleasure.
The young woman who they were now backing, Penelope, was more than thrilled to be the recipient of the financial support and was now anxiously planning the launch of her first store front, ‘Carbon.’ The positive wheels were turning.
Brett’s eyes felt gritty. The once transparent green pools were now murky with fatigue as he stared at his day’s itinerary. He truthfully wasn’t in the mood for meetings and business chats. He wanted to go home. Last night he had a drinking competition with himself. Every shot was a band aid for his wounds that seemed to surface at night.
His house was large. As a matter of fact, it was enormous and the size echoed with the silence of his nonexistent family. In Brett’s younger days he didn’t think it was possible for a man to have a nesting instinct, and as his friends, one by one, committed to the ball and chain of marriage he laughed. He would never take the plunge.
With the old man’s death and subsequently the revelation of the harsh conditions of the will, he found himself hard pressed to meet the demands his father left behind. Priscilla had been a bed warmer for a while and had all the attributes a rich wife should possess. His mother all but pushed them up the aisle.
The bitch was bitter and barren and left Brett’s heart bare and broken after his experience with love - or at least what he thought was love. All the examples he had seen of any marriage in the elite society was akin to a business arrangement. They chose looks and status rather than character and virtues. No one waited for the warm fuzzy feelings, or the longings of the heart when one partner was absent - the rich simply didn’t love that way.
