Chardonnay: A Novel (16 page)

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Authors: Jacquilynn Martine

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If I felt I put a move on the room before, I was wrong as ever
before. My grandmother stepped back and said, “Stacey...talk to her.”

My mother looked at her mother and then to me. “Your Aunt Fallon
is dead.” and that’s all she said. She didn’t say it with
love,
she just said it like it was another day. I frowned my eyebrows and said,

“What! No—no she was just here la—”

“Chardonnay, she’s dead! There is no way in hell you could
possibly know her. I don’t know how you know the things you do, but...” my
mother’s words trailed off.

My Aunt Hattie stumbled back into the room and said,

“She comes to her every ten years! Ain’t that some shit! Y’all
slow—it’s her ghost! That’s how that baby knows her. I’m drunk and I figured
that shit out!”

My grandmother shook her head and as if she had already figured
that out and told Aunt Hattie to shut her mouth. I had had enough for one day.
I got up from the table and went up to my
room,
I was
going back to bed...spooked.

14

Eyes
Wide Open

June
swiftly drove by with the added tension to funeral arrangements being made and
a surprise family meeting my Aunt Marjorie was having in the following week. I
had missed the meeting with Superior Ethnic Models and Micah was down my throat
as we sat in front of a quaint coffee shop in a small historic district called
The Crossroads, consumed of ma and pa shoppes.

“WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO MISS A HUGE OPPORTUNITY LIKE THAT!” he
yelled sympathetically at me. I was sure he meant well. I sipped my Chai Tea
and rolled my eyes up at him.

“I totally forgot with the crazy Sunday I had and then
My
grandfather passing away on Monday.

“I’m sorry Micah.” I said giving a reassuring frown.

He pulled his Blackberry out and started tapping away as he chanted,

“The things I do for you....your my girl but you gotta get it
together. I only make business deals not half ass deals so you gotta bring it,
hon.”

“What are you doing?”

“Sending Josh a message and tell her to keep the resume I sent and
that you fell down the steps after hearing your grandfather died and sprang
your ankle.”

I looked at him sideways giving him an estranged look.

Micah looked over his Chanel shades and informed me about a golden
rule in the fashion industry for new comer’s.

“Your family crises don’t count at this point if you can
physically get your ass there—these folks don’t play. All they have to do is
find another girl that looks like you, if not better, and replace you.” he said
with a cold stone face. I nodded my head to express I was taking in his advice,
but honestly, I could give a rats ass. My world was not balanced without my Pal
pal. He had been in my life for as long as I could remember, bouncing me up and
down on his lap even when he got tired and taking the time to actually ask me
about me. It could have been anything...he showed the concern.

Micah sat his Blackberry down and sighed as he looked over at me.

“What’s the real?” he asked.

I shook my head and pressed out,

“I’m just tired.”

“Everyone gets tired, but you have to move it still. Look, let’s
make a promise—I put forth fifty and you put forth fifty and we both make you a
star.”

I smirked at Micah and with a wishful smile saying, “That’s not
possible.”

He leaned in and said, “Girlie—when you’re dealing with Micah Waterford—
anything
is possible, Um’kay!”

“Um’ kay!”
I said making fun of him. He gave me the final
arrangements on the rescheduled meeting with Josh, which was reset for
that
night, including telling me she was a hard ass. This time I prepared myself
meaning I got a Brazilian bikini wax, hair did, nails did,
eyes
cucumberlicous, hair straightened, and went to the spa all courtesy of Micah.

I had on tight hip hugging jeans, a snugged white tank top, and a
cropped silk blazer with lace at it base. The heels Micah bought me were killer
four inches and a shiny patent leather.
 

When he got done with me I felt like a girl who stepped out of
Vogue. He taught me techniques to use for poses and even facial expressions.
When we got done with that, I went with Micah to meet Josh and some of their
mutual friends at a restaurant called M&S Grill on the Plaza. It was about
9 at night but that was enough time to catch up, get drinks, talk business, and
mingle for Micah. His friends were already seated at the table when we arrived,
some on their second round of drinks. I spotted Josh a mile away with her
intimidating glare. Micah leaned over and gave hugs and kisses to a few of them
while another one of his friends, female, looked at me and said,

“Well Micah we didn’t know you would be plus one—until late notice—so
we may have to get another table. Oh—and Mr. Vonseigneur is here.”

“Oh, he is! Well, this will be perfect, Chardonnay.” he said
looking at me.

I became nervous as hell. As much as I wanted this intern and
modeling opportunity, I was so scared I thought I’d just back down and not try
at all. To finally meet the CEO would be either suicide or life for eternity
for my legacy with SEM.

“Where is he?” Micah asked wanting to give me a private
introduction.

“Oh, over by the bar.
And I’m Syndi!” the female said
putting her hand out. I shook its strong claps and gave her a subtle, “Chardonnay.”
before Micah snatched me away.

We scrambled over to the bar to a man standing with the back of
his broad shoulders to us as he held conversation with a few
who’s
who’s
as such as himself. Micah cleared his throat and said,

“Excuse us Mr. Vonseigneur, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

When Mr. Vonseigneur turned around to look at us I felt my legs
buckle under me. Micah looked over at me with a strained wide teethed smile,
pulling me up with his arm. I wish I had known...the Chief Executive Officer of
Superior Ethnic Models and Black Billions magazine was
Jase
. My heart
could have stopped. He didn’t look upset or even spiteful at me.

In fact it was as if we hadn’t even met those three times before
and fornicated on the third encounter—what woman
wouldn’t
have after experiencing his presence? That was my excuse and I was sticking to
it.

 
“Chardonnay Houston—this is
Jasen Vonseigneur, son of Jean Vonseigneur and now new CEO of SEM and Black
Billions magazine. Jasen Vonseigneur this is Chardonnay Houston—award winning
writer and aspiring model.” Micah added aspiring model himself to the end of my
credentials.

Jase and I both held a long engaged stare before he fully turned
his body towards Micah and
I
. I tried to step back but
Micah wasn’t having it.

“Go ahead and shake the man’s hand!”

I did so while Jase said a low key,

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Same here.”
I said looking away.

If there was one thing I knew about Micah, it was that he could
peep game on anything very quickly. There was nothing anyone could get past
him, and that’s why he would one day be one of the best managers to the stars,
taking no more than five million for a newbie’s contract for anything. He
looked at the both of us and said a low but exaggerated,

“Damn! My introduction wasn’t needed obviously!”

He looked at me and said,

“You’ve fucked him! Haven’t you?!”

I rushed off to the women’s powder room and locked myself in a
stall. If I thought I was embarrassed when Jasen spotted me at that bachelor
party—it was nothing near the infringement I felt now. Mascara ran down my face
and on to the silk blazer I had on. I grabbed a tissue to try and rub it away
as quick as possible. I heard a knock on the door and Jase’s soft voice to
follow, calling my name, like he had done only a few nights ago.

It had been a week actually since I left him lying lonely in our
wetness and to only be smacked in the face like this was karma. Pure karma and
the bitch loved me. I didn’t respond to any of Jase’s inquiries about me being
okay and after fifteen minutes I didn’t hear him anymore. Eventually Micah
busted into the ladies room and got awkward looks,

“What?!
I’m just as much a girl as y’all—trust!” he
yelled at the women staring at him.

He kicked open every door until he found me and then shooed
everyone else out the ladies room and locked it.

“Have you lost your mind? It’s one thing to sleep with a man who
has a lot of money—but to fuck a
billionaire
and not know it...let’s
just say you’ve had your dumb moment for the rest of your life.”

I got up off the stool and walked over to the sink,

“Micah
don’t
start with me.”

“Uhn uhn—you had me doing all this work for nothing,” he chuckled,

“I never thought to have you sleep with him to get an intern. That
takes Genius!”

“I didn’t know! How could he do this to me?”

“How didn’t you know? I mean, come on, he just
looks
like
money! But anyway, he’s out there waiting for you, girl. And as long as I’ve
known Mr. Vonseigneur—I’ve never seen him on a chick...was starting to think he
was on my team. But that’s his professionalism—however if you can change
that...you must be some kind of special to him.”

Micah stared at me with empathetic eyes. I took in a deep breath
and decided for the rest of the night it would be about business. If Jase
approached me wanting to engage in talk of our personal life together—I would
cut him short. The only trick now was regaining my reputation and his trust in
order to get the chance of a life time.

*
 
*
 
*
 
*

The night
went on as planned and Jase never took one glance at me as he sipped his
bourbon at the table all ten of us shared, while having casual entertainment
talk and laughs. After it was over small talk began through good-byes and some
hugs were shared. I walked off outside to Micah’s car to wait
 
on him since I felt the need to keep distance
clear away from Jase, but I only made it easy for him to get me alone and talk
to me. He walked up on me as I was about to get in the car as the valet opened
the door.

“Chardonnay, I just can’t let you leave yet.” he called out.

I turned and pulled my left foot back out and stepped up on the
curb.

“What Jase or Jasen if that’s your real name?”

“Is that any way to speak to the man who may make you a star?”

“See this is what I didn’t want.
A man that is
in control of my destiny.
This is exactly why I don’t have a man as
well.”

“I’m not trying to be chauvinistic. I have a sense of humor and
you know that. But what I don’t have is time for petty little girl games. If
you couldn’t handle a man like me—why didn’t you tell me that from the go?
Or to my face for that matter?”

I felt a lump build up in my heart and I tried looking off from
him, but his supple hands gently pulled my face back to his gleaming exotic
eyes. I was falling for him. But I couldn’t tell him. And obviously like in my
letter when I wrote he would understand later—that time hadn’t come. He looked
into my expressionless face and shook his head.

“What are you gonna do? Leave me with these feelings?” he asked.

Lord knows I wanted to love him but my heart wouldn’t let me.

“Why me?”
I asked.

“Why not you?”

Micah walked out the doors of the restaurant laughing it up with
the woman who had introduced herself to me as Syndi. Jase pulled back from me
but kept his eyes flexed on me. When they walked up to us Micah shook his head
and went around the other side of the car,

“Nice to see you Mr. Vonseigneur!” he yelled.

“You too Waterford.”
Jase said slightly looking up from
me.

“Jase, are you coming?” Syndi asked as she cut her eyes at me.

He looked over his shoulder and then back at me. It was something
about being a woman who had been played over and over again that in her voice I
heard a proprietorship to Jase’s name. He whispered a,

“Good night Chardonnay...nice to meet you.” and quickly walked off
with Syndi.

When I heard her say, “Babe—did everything go okay?” I knew the
answered to his question of why not you.
Men.

*
 
*
 
*
 
*

Going back
to my parent’s house was inevitable. Most of the family who had come was now in
hotel rooms since their stay had been prolonged due to family quarrels about my
grandfather’s estate and apparently bonds and trust funds he had set up for
some of his grandchildren—not his children. As I sat in the family meeting with
Konstance by my side, she poked and typed at her Blackberry, sending me text
messages to mine. Her first one was inquiring about me stripping at a party and
that Myron,
which
was typed in bold capped letters,
knew about it now. I typed back that I could give a hell less. We sat through
more boring but depressing debates of whether my grandfather should be buried
in Oak or Cherry wood. Biggie was buried in gold—I wanted to suggest that but I
thought that I might keep that to myself.

Konstance whispered in my ear, “After this—my room-annual summer
party at the Bryers Estate—it’s gone be huge!”

I looked at her sideways. How could she think of such a thing at a
time like this?

“Can we bury Pal pal first?”

“Nay you need to stop stressing, he would want us to not dwell
like you are.”

I knew she was right, but it was all too much for me. My Aunt
Marjorie continued to dispel my grandfather’s long will when she came across my
name and paused. She looked at my mother and then to me.

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