A Love of My Own (8 page)

8
__________________

I had been in New York over a month before I made the phone call I knew I would eventually make, dialing the digits of John Basil Henderson. He was a man I had a love/I-think-you're-out-of-your-mind relationship with. Basil was a super-sexy gray-eyed ex-professional football player I'd had flings with at different times in my life. I called him a friend, although we rarely saw eye to eye on anything. Still, there was something about the sexy Mr. Henderson that maintained my curiosity, and I knew the feelings were mutual. He's so cocksure, and he routinely turns the heads of both men and women.

The moment I'd gotten to the city I had thought about calling Basil, but I decided I should get my bearings in my new position before I brought any John Basil Henderson confusion into my life. Besides, I figured there was nothing like a good-looking man to make me forget about my troubles. The last time I had seen or spoken to Basil, he'd been in a great deal of trouble, but I suspected he had somehow made it through since I hadn't heard from him in a while.

I grabbed my PalmPilot and located Basil's numbers, but I didn't know if I should call his office or apartment. I really just wanted to leave a message and let him contact me.

Basil answered after two rings.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“Raymond Tyler, what are you doing in New York? Looking for me?” Basil asked.

“How did you know I was in New York?” I asked.

“Now, you know a brotha like me gonna have caller ID. It's good hearing your voice,” Basil said.

“So that's why you call me all the time?” I joked.

“I've been meaning to call you,” Basil said.

“Sure, sure. I bet you tell that to all the boys and girls,” I said. Basil was terribly confused when it came to his sexuality, or maybe he was truly bisexual.

“So we got a lot to catch up on. A lot has changed since we last spoke. How long are you here for?”

“A while. I've taken a job here,” I said.

“What? Man, that's great. When's your boy getting here?”

“I'm not certain,” I said quickly. “What's going on with you?”

“I'm in love again, and this time it's the real thing. I can't wait for you to meet her,” Basil said. There was an excitement in his voice I had never heard, so I was thinking that maybe he had finally met the woman who could tame his wild ways.

“That's great. What happened to Rosa? More important, whatever happened with that Yancey lady?”

“I don't know if I should tell you this over the phone or in person,” Basil said.

“You must have big news if you don't want to talk about it over the phone. What's going on with the firm?” The last time I had spoken with Basil, he was trying to decide whether he was going to leave the sports management company he co-owned.

“It's big, and things couldn't be better at the firm. We've signed some of the top talent coming out this year and we got rid of that asshole Nico,” Basil said.

“Nico. I think I remember you talking about him. Was he one of the partners?”

“Yeah, that's the niggah who thought he was going to get me to leave the firm. I did some checking on his dealings with some of our clients' finances and, well, let's just say it was either leave the firm or spend some time in jail,” Basil said.

“Dude, what's going on with your brother's agent? The guy in Florida is getting ready to go on trial. I guess I won't be so judgmental the next time I see some black athlete signed with a white agent.”

“I hear you. But I don't want to talk about that mofo. I can't wait for you to meet Talley Henderson,” Basil said.

I was wondering if I had heard Basil correctly. Did he say the new lady in his life shared his last name? Was Basil married?

“Talley Henderson,” I said nervously. I didn't know why it even mattered who his new lady was. I always assumed Basil would end up with some beautiful lady and keep an equally good-looking man on the side.

“Yes, Talley, and she is beautiful,” Basil boasted.

“I can't wait to meet her,” I said weakly.

“What are you doing this evening?”

“I've got to meet with my new boss. You might know him, or maybe you've heard of him. Davis McClinton.”

“Who hasn't heard of him? I mean, that brotha is the big dog. I heard he might be the first black billionaire. Is that true?”

“Possibly,” I said, feeling very small that I had lied about my plans to Basil. I just didn't want to spend the evening watching him fawn over some beautiful playmate of a woman.

“Maybe we can get together for breakfast or lunch. It might be hard for you to meet Talley because she'll be in nursery school,” Basil said.

“Is she a teacher?”

“A teacher?” Basil asked with a deep laugh.

“Did I say something funny?” I asked.

“Who do you think Talley is?”

“Your new lady,” I said.

“True, but it's not what you think,” Basil said.

“Who is she?”

There was a brief pause and then Basil said proudly, “Talley is my daughter. Ray, I'm a daddy.”

“What? When did this happen? The last time I spoke with you, the biggest thing in your life was telling your father the truth about you. Now you're a father? I can't believe this,” I said.

“It's a long story, but I can't tell you how happy I am, Ray. Talley is just beautiful. She's changed my life.”

“Sounds like it. Who's the mother?” I asked. I hadn't read anything in the entertainment magazine about Basil's ex, Yancey, having a baby. Besides, she knew the real deal about Basil, and I didn't know a lot of women who would knowingly take a chance with a man who slept with both sexes, unless you were Michelle Adams, Trent's baby's mama.

“Rosa. Remember the flight attendant I used to hang with? It's a long story, and I can't wait to sit down and tell you.”

“Are you still hanging with her?”

“No, not like that, but we're cool. Trying our best to be great parents to our daughter,” Basil said. I couldn't believe how mature and serious he sounded. Maybe this parenting thing was more powerful than I could have ever imagined.

“Let me give you my number. I've got to run, but I can't wait to meet your little girl,” I said.

“Do that,” Basil said.

I gave Basil my office numbers and suggested that we get together soon. I didn't know if I was looking forward to seeing him, but I knew it was something I had to do.

9
__________________

I tapped gently on Raymond's office door and I heard a voice say, “Come in.”

When I walked into his office, I smelled the strong scent of food, like somebody had been slaving over an oven or grill.

“Zola, glad you could make it. I hope you like ribs,” Raymond said.

“I do,” I said as I looked to my left and noticed a table with a red and white tablecloth covered with a wooden picnic basket. There was a bottle of red wine standing beside the basket with two wine glasses. I hoped my new boss wasn't trying to get me drunk in the middle of the day and try and have his way with me. I would hate to have to sue him for sexual harassment during his first month.

“Great. I thought instead of going to a noisy restaurant we could have lunch here in my office. I want us to have a chance to get to know one another,” Raymond said as he pulled out a chair. Hmmm, I thought to myself, I like this. Raymond was a gentleman, unlike that fool Seth Matthews, who held the position of CEO before he went wacko and was quickly escorted out of the building.

“Thank you.” I smiled as I took my seat. “Whatever's in that basket smells good,” I said.

“I hope so. I ordered ribs from a place around the corner called Virgil's. Bristol said they have great food, although I'm sure their ribs aren't as good as the ones we cook down in Alabama,” Raymond said.

“So, you're a Southern boy. I should have known,” I said, wondering if Raymond would be insulted by my referring to him as a boy.

“True and true,” Raymond said.

I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn't offended my new boss. “I'm from Nashville,” I said.

“I know. Davis gave me a copy of your bio,” Raymond said.

“Why am I not surprised,” I said.

“Zola, I don't really want to talk a lot of business over our little picnic. The two of us are going to be working pretty closely together, and I want to get to know the real Zola. Not the magazine editor or the person in the bio,” Raymond said as he took a seat and opened the basket and the scent of the meat became stronger. It reminded me of my parents' kitchen when they had just brought meat from the grill on holidays or summer evenings when Daddy had a taste for beef.

“Sounds good, although I'll tell you, I've never had a picnic before like this in my career,” I said.

“What was your relationship with the guy who had my job before me?” Raymond asked as he pulled a plastic container from the basket that looked like it held coleslaw.

“Seth and I really didn't have a relationship. He was Davis's right-hand man, but he was too weak and let Davis literally drive him crazy. Maybe it wasn't Davis but his wife and girlfriend,” I said, laughing. I didn't know why, but I felt totally comfortable talking with Raymond. I looked over at him and scrutinized his face. His smooth skin glowed like a warm stick of butter, and his eyes were a startling shade of grass green.

“You're kidding, right?”

“About Seth?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I was. Everybody in the office knew he had a mistress, and sometimes she would come up to the office when he thought everyone was gone. He let this job and Davis get to him. Mr. McClinton's shadow can be cold and overpowering. There are some stories I could tell you, but I'll wait until I get to know you better,” I said.

“Would you like both baked beans and coleslaw?” Raymond asked.

“Sure. It looks good. Did black folks make this?” I asked.

“I'm not sure. I took a peek at the ribs and they looked like they'd pass the Slap-Yo-Mama's test,” Raymond said, smiling. He was wearing a starched white shirt with a rose-red tie with a thin strip of royal blue. I noticed a navy blue pinstriped suit coat on a hanger over the door that led to the private bathroom and shower, which I had actually used when the office had been empty while Davis found a replacement for Seth.

“What kind of wine is this,” I said as I picked up the bottle and read something in French. I thought about Davis and how pompous he sounded when he ordered in French.

“A very nice French Merlot. Can I pour you a glass?” Raymond asked.

“Sure, but just a little corner. I got a lot of work waiting on my desk,” I said.

Raymond walked over to the bar area and picked up a corkscrew and then went back over to the table, where he opened the wine. He smelled the cork and then poured a little taste in my glass like we were at an expensive restaurant.

I took a sip and enjoyed the dry fruity taste.

“How is it?”

“Wonderful,” I said.

“I'm glad the lady approves,” Raymond said as he poured me half a glass and about the same into his and sat down and gave me a polite smile. I guess the no cocktail rule was made to be broken.

“So what do you want to know about me?”

“Who came up with the name
Bling Bling
?”

“I tell you, it wasn't me. Davis came up with it. I hate the name, but Davis thought that young kids spend more money on music and the products we advertise in the magazine. I guess I've gotten used to it. What do you think of it?”

“It's different,” Raymond answered quickly.

“So is that the only business question? Nothing about future issues, advertising revenues, or personnel issues?”

“That's it. Now it's Raymond and Zola.”

“So I'll ask again. What do you want to know about me? My family? My friends? What I do for fun or have I been involved in covert activities?” I teased.

“Tell me what you want me to know. Did you pledge while you were in college?” Raymond asked.

“No, I didn't.” A surprised look crossed Raymond's face. “I just knew you were greek,” Raymond said.

“I started to, but I couldn't decide. At first I wanted to pledge Delta, but their lines were always so long. I didn't want to be a small fish in a big sea. Then I was stuck on pledging AKA and really liked the girls on the yard, but they were a large group as well. The fish theory again. I had this professor who I just loved and she was a Zeta, and I decided that's what I wanted to be. Just when I thought I had made up my mind, I became really close with a Sigma, Lorraine, who was majoring in journalism. That sista was bad. She was one of the smartest girls at Tennessee State and could dress her butt off. In the fall, girls couldn't wait to see what Lorraine was wearing the first few weeks of school,” I said. I couldn't believe I was sitting there, chatting easily with Raymond, but there was a warm quality about him that made me feel comfortable and safe. Nothing like being around Davis. With him I always felt I had to think about everything I said before it left my mouth.

“I guess I can understand your not being able to make a choice. They're all great organizations. I also know a lot of it depends on what school or part of the country you're in,” Raymond said.

I took a bite of the rib, which was so good that the meat was falling off the bones. I poured a little of the barbecue sauce and dipped the meat in it like I was eating chicken wings. Raymond was using the black and gold china with the official McClinton Enterprises
crest that Veronica, the wife, had insisted that Davis purchase for the few formal dinners we held at the office.

“Did you pledge?” I asked Raymond after I had finished one rib and dipped my hands into the box for another one.

“I'm a member of KAQ,” Raymond said calmly.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Why do you ask that?” Raymond asked.

“Two words. Pretty boy,” I said. I noticed Raymond blushing and thought maybe I had crossed the line, but I still thought it was wonderful to know my new boss was bashful and seemingly not conceited.

“That's not true,” Raymond protested.

“Raymond, this is one thing you need to know about me. I am brutally honest. I call them as I see them. I'm sure your wife or girlfriend would agree with me.”

“I'm not married and I don't have a girlfriend,” Raymond said matter-of-factly. I stopped eating my food and gazed at him for a moment.

“Zola, is there something you want to ask me?”

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

“I just broke up with my partner of several years,” Raymond said.

I was thinking he didn't have to hit me over the head with a rib bone. My new boss was gay, which certainly didn't bother me. Still, I didn't think I should tell him I knew just yet in case Raymond wasn't comfortable talking about his sexuality. If he was, then it would be quite refreshing if he was open and honest and not trying to trick a sister by living his life on the d.l., which I called the d.l.d.—dirty low down.

I wondered for a moment if Raymond would be somebody Hayden might be interested in but quickly remembered my friend was interested only in the low down.

“I'm sorry to hear that. Are you okay?”

“I'm a big boy. I'll be fine,” Raymond said.

“Breakups can be a bitch,” I said.

“Yeah, they can,” Raymond said as he stood and walked over to his desk and picked up a photo. He came back and sat down and asked me to look at the picture. It was a sepia-toned picture of two African American boys and two girls on the back of a truck. It looked like a photo taken in the fifties or early sixties.

“Who is this?” I asked as I studied the photograph closely.

“I don't know. I thought you might know. I found it in my desk, mixed in with some letterheads,” Raymond said.

“Did you ask Bristol?” I noticed the names Norman and Scooter printed in a child's handwriting.

“No, these people look black,” Raymond said.

I looked at the picture again and said, “Yeah, they're light but not white. Even though sometimes I think Bristol might be an undercover brotha. You know, passing,” I said, laughing.

“You're crazy. But Bristol does have a sense of what's right about our culture. He picked up all these great CDs for me. Maxwell, Joe, Angie Stone. I guess he reads your magazine.” Raymond laughed.

“Yeah, Bristol is cool people. I talk to him every now and then. Did he tell you he used to work at
Vibe
and
Vanity Fair
?”

“Yes.”

“I'm pretty sure Davis stole him from over there by offering him a lot of money and making a lot of promises,” I said.

“Do you think it belongs to Seth?”

“What?”

“The photograph,” Raymond said.

“I doubt it. Seth was very dark, blue-black,” I said. “I personally love every shade we come in. From light-bright to blue-black.”

“I hear you. Are you sure it's not a family photo that belonged to Seth?”

“Besides, he was an only child like Davis. The two of them started off really tight. I think they went to college together. You should have seen the two of them together when they had a couple of drinks. Styling and profiling, smoking big cigars, talking about the good old days at prep school and Harvard,” I said.

“What happened to them?”

“Just between you and me, I think Seth resented Davis's success. I think he wanted to be just like him, but Seth wasn't as confident or aggressive as Davis and gradually got annoyed by that. He knew Davis was looking to replace him because people in their social circles were talking about it. His job was so important to him he couldn't take the pressure. I guess that's why old Seth lost it. I wasn't here when it happened, but office lore has it that when Seth cleaned out his office he did it in a yellowed T-shirt stained with coffee, a tie around his neck, and plaid boxer shorts,” I said.

“That's sad,” Raymond said.

“Yes, sad would be the word. Just make sure you don't leave here that way,” I said.

“Thanks for the warning,” Raymond said.

“Thanks for the ribs,” I said as I got up to go back to my office.

From
Bling Bling
Confidential

People often spent so much time looking at how beautiful Raymond's green eyes were that they never noticed they were stained with loneliness.