The Naughty Sins Of A Saint (6 page)

“I understand there was another convention, the L.A. Rainbeau Valentine Conference, last night, the kind that only men are invited to, and it was sold out, as usual,” Xenia said, drawing him back from his lustful thoughts. Saint blinked his eyes and came out of the trance.

“From my understanding, that’s correct, it was sold out,” he said.

“You seem to really leave an impression on people, positive and negative, wherever you go. Oh, I’m sorry, I was supposed to discuss your credentials more.” Xenia was flustered. She couldn’t believe she had lost her train of thought.

“I want to let the audience know, in the interest of saving time, the rest of Dr. Saint Aknaten’s background. He’s not just a sex therapist and author, but a world-renowned public speaker and icon. His topics typically pertain to interracial relationships and sex between Black women and non-Black men. He encourages these unions to a great extent, even stating that they’re necessary from a spiritual standpoint. OK, I don’t get all that,” Xenia frowned. “Dr. Aknaten, can you please explain why you’re so gung-ho about non-Black men dating Black women?” She crossed her arms over her breasts. Saint read her body language and filed it away for further inquiry.

“That’s what my lectures and books are for – to educate. It would take too long to cram an answer into a thirty-minute radio interview, but I can say that it’s imperative that we, as non-Black men, take the cues from God to date, marry, and mate with Black women. There’s a shift, finally, in the acceptance of Black women dating non-Black men. But unfortunately, it’s due more to necessity than preference. The numbers don’t lie. For every Black man in this country there are eight Black women. Because of this difference in numbers, Black women have begun to look elsewhere to see what you’ve been missing.”

“What I’ve been missing?” Xenia laughed.

“Yes, what you’ve been missing. Love and sex don’t have a color. They either exist in one’s life or they don’t. Someone like me, for example, could end up being the love of your life,” Saint grinned.

 “Dr. Saint Aknaten, with all due respect, you come off in your books to be an arrogant, pompous, and egotistical, and from your answer right now, I think that’s a fair assessment. I did look at your book, ‘The Black Vagina Vortex,’ and I can honestly say,” Xenia bent over laughing, “this is ridiculous! Really? You really believe that Black women are just going to leave our brothas in droves? You need to wake up. It isn’t gonna happen. I believe in the survival of the Black family. Now sure, there will be some women that’ll look outside the community, but the majority of us are standing by our Black men, and I refuse to believe those numbers you quoted. That’s just a scare tactic. I want to make it clear to the listening audience that I have nothing against interracial dating. Love who you love, but I refuse to sit here and have our Black man demonized.”

“I didn’t demonize the Black man. You’re giving me entirely too much credit. You don’t have to believe my numbers. Go to your local hospital and ask how many Black boys and girls have been born in the last twenty years, then come challenge me. Investigate how many of these young boys grow up to be incarcerated, drug addicted, or uneducated – sometimes due to racism and a system set against them – but that doesn’t change the end result, now does it? Some of these guys don’t want you anyway. Some are gay, or prefer non-Black women themselves. Don’t blame me for that, it isn’t my fault,” Saint laughed. “Have you ever slept with a man who wasn’t Black, Xenia?” Saint flashed a smile.

“No, I haven’t, but my sex life isn’t part of the discussion.” Xenia rolled her eyes.

“Sure it is. You said the majority of you will stand by your Black man, including yourself. So what you do personally is a part of the conversation. Furthermore, how can you criticize something you’ve never tried? I have a friend who’s never tried pineapple. He thinks it looks unfit for human consumption – all those spikes. But pineapple is sweet and packed full of vitamin C. Unless you try it, you may not see the benefits.”

 “Nope, you aren’t sucking me into that conversation.” Xenia waved her hand at him.

‘But can I suck on you?’ Saint thought.

“In his books, Dr. Aknaten presents Black men as the enemy, folks. He’s sitting here trying to act brand new about what I’m talking about. In my opinion Black men can’t even be racist, Dr. Aknaten. You have to have power in order to be racist. Black men have no governmental, systemic, or economic power.”

“I’d like to respond,” Saint began.

“No, I’m still talking. You also appear to be obsessed with Black women from a purely sexual standpoint.”

“Why am I here if you’re going to do all the talking? I thought this was an interview.” Saint calmly clasped his hands together and chewed his gum.

“Nothing about your books demonstrates to me that you’re serious at all about the lives and love of Black women,” Xenia continued. For some reason, she couldn’t stop herself. “I mean,” she rolled her eyes again, “how does your mother feel about you basically saying she isn’t good enough to date, mate, and marry? Your mother’s Korean, right? That’s what your bio says.”

Saint was quiet and stared deeply at Xenia. She stared back, taking on his nonverbal threat before rolling her eyes now a third time.

“Well? Cat got your tongue?” she teased. “We’re on live radio here.”

“Yes, Xenia, my mother is Korean. However, she’s also dead, so she actually has no opinion on it at all at this time.”

Xenia
froze.

 “If you’d done your research thoroughly, like a good journalist, or at least had one of your interns look me up on Wikipedia, you would’ve known that.” Saint’s voice remained calm as he chastised her. Xenia’s large, dark-brown eyes softened as she realized her mistake.

“Dr. Aknaten, I do apologize. I wasn’t aware of the passing of your mother.”

Saint remained quiet as he folded his arms over his chest. Xenia looked around the room anxiously as her producer frowned at her.

“I’m an author myself,” Xenia offered, “of two self-help texts that…”

“I know who you are, Xenia Donnellson. You’ve written two books, one called ‘Make That Man Beg,’ which is about women holding out on sex for the first three months of dating, and ‘How to Pimp your Finances,’ about investing. You’re all for the empowerment of women. We both are, yet you see me as an adversary. You’re also a well-loved local and national personality, and indulge in trifle celebrity gossip on Fridays. On Wednesdays, you have a lunch give-away, and on Mondays you have people call in from 8:00-9:00 in the morning to tell jokes. You’re thirty-two years old. Your birthday just passed actually – happy belated. You’re unmarried, no children, and you live in an upscale part of Los Angeles. Your mother raised you. You’re pro-Black. You have a seven-year-old Jack Russell terrier named ‘Sphinx,’ and you’re one of the few women who actually enjoys playing video games, especially the kind that involve a lot of shooting and mayhem. I did my homework, Ms. Donnellson. I just wish you had done the same.”

Xenia
swallowed hard. Her body heat increased tenfold. She waved her finger at him after gathering her thoughts. “Ladies and gentlemen, you should see Dr. Aknaten’s face right now. Apparently I hit a nerve. This topic is about his work, but we’ve discovered something much deeper in this interview, and it’s just begun. Let’s go to commercial break, and we’ll be right back on the Xenia Donnellson show!” Xenia snatched off her headphones and pushed the mute button as they were taken into commercial. She leaned over the controls in front of her, exposing her ample bust in her low-cut, soft, purple shirt. Saint’s eyes immediately went to them, and that’s where his eyes stayed for the next twenty seconds.

“Dr. Aknaten, let’s get one thing straight right now. This is my show! You don’t want to fuck with me the way you just did. This is an interview! I interview celebrities, and sometimes the questions may be uncomfortable. I appreciate you being here, but you obviously can’t take the heat. This interview can help your career. I have over one hundred thousand listeners on my worst day. Anyone who’s been on my show has seen at least a thirty percent jump in their book and product sales. As you’re such a controversial person, yours will probably double that. You should be thanking me instead of attacking me!”

“Are you finished?” Saint calmly lifted his eyes from her rack, his arms still crossed over his chest. “You never shut up. Let me know when you’re done, please. Are you finished now, for real, because I need to be sure.” Saint wore a slight grin.

“Yes, motherfucker, I am!” Xenia could feel her face turning red. “I wish I could kick your flippant ass out of here, but my boss would pitch a fit! I’m not going to kiss your ass like some others do! I know what the hell goes on with guys like you. You think you run the world and can have anyone you want, like Black women are your property. You think we’re the latest gadgets. We don’t want your lame asses. I need a real man, not some half-Kung-Fu asshole talking shit.”

“I thought you said you were finished.” Saint raised an eyebrow.

“I am, mark-ass lame!” Xenia briefly turned away and adjusted the music fade buttons.

“Good. First of all, Kung-Fu was created by the Chinese, so please get your Asian stereotypes correct before you use them. It was created during the Ming Dynasty, if you even truly give a shit. Anyway, it looks like we have five minutes before we’re back on air, so let me make something clear, right here, right now, Ms. Donnellson. Don’t ever bring up my mother again, and we won’t have another problem. What you did was purely for ratings and because I make you uncomfortable. It wasn’t to help me, you, or the listening audience. Respect me, and I’ll respect you back. Don’t start a war with me and then act surprised when I defend myself. You’re one of those women who want to cry when you get what you gave. Don’t come at me hard if you can’t hang.”

“Oh, shut up! You aren’t intimidating me.”

“If you can dish it, be prepared to get it handed right back to you and take it like a champ. I’m not going to tiptoe around your feelings while you berate me, and I don’t care about how you feel right about now. Don’t try any girl-power bullshit on me. You want to wrestle me like a man, then fuck your feelings.”

“Fuck yours, too!” Xenia spat.

“You want to pretend you have balls? Fine, then. Be prepared to play with the big boys. You’re probably one of those Black female apologists. You have to make ‘the brothas’ feel comfortable, even though the ones you deal with don’t give a shit about you. You’re doing all this rallying and cheerleading for men who don’t care if you draw another breath. Yet you keep the fight going and truthfully, I really don’t care what your stance is on this. For someone who doesn’t want any ‘rainbeau’ love, you sure are defensive and angry.”

“What the hell is ‘rainbeau’ love anyway?” Xenia asked.

“A ‘rainbeau’ is a man who courts a woman correctly, in the proper way, and he isn’t Black, but he pursues Black women for dating and marriage. He’s a gentleman and...”

“A gentleman? Like you? You’re the rudest mothafucka I’ve ever laid eyes on! How can you sit there and talk about being a gentleman?”

“Don’t interrupt me again,” Saint demanded. “Your personal views have nothing to do with this interview, but you make them fair game when you pose personal questions. I’m not trying to make you do anything, so why you are taking it personally? Perhaps you have something invested in this, or you’re afraid that I might be right. And for the record, you can call it cocky if you want, but you know you want me.” He flashed a huge grin.

Xenia
laughed and hit the table in front of her. “Where the hell did that come from? You’re blowing my mind!” she laughed. “You’re the most arrogant person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting!”

 “You can do all the name-calling you want. It just makes you look small, unlike those big-ass titties you keep shaking in my face. You twirled your hair at least four times, and that’s a direct flirtation. You smiled while you insulted me, and it was genuine. You’ve been shaking your leg like it’s an oil pump. The damn thing is gonna detach and fly across this fucking room if you don’t stop – another sign of your attraction towards me. I make you uneasy, and I don’t give a shit. I have enough book and video sales to keep me sustained until I’m a thousand years old. I don’t need you to drag me through the mud. I have integrity.”

“Oh, please!” Xenia waved him off. “Integrity? I know about your reputation, Mr. Hoes-in-all-the-area-codes. Your dick has seen more pussy than a veterinarian. Don’t talk to me about integrity. You’re a smart gigolo, a male whore with a doctorate, nothing more, nothing less. Wikipedia that, bitch!”

“That may be true, but you still want to fuck me,” Saint said with a grin. “This entire argument is making your pussy wet. I can smell it from over here. If I were you, I’d advise no one to sit there until you get the clean-up on aisle red chair taken care of first.”

There was silence as Xenia stared at him, so angry her body shook.

“Whatever game you want to play, Ms. Donnellson, I can play it better,” Saint continued. “You warned me to not fuck with you – interesting choice of words, considering the topic. You’re being warned as well. I hope we have an understanding, because I’m a person you don’t want to go to war with. It won’t be pretty. Come at me like that again, and just watch what happens. I eat people like you for breakfast. Take that any way you wish. You’ll lose every time. Now hurry up and let’s get this shit over with. Your goddamn light is blinking.” Saint threw an ink pen across the room, leaned back in his chair, put his hand up to his chin, and displayed a look of utter disgust.