To Each Her Own (The Swirl Book 1) (7 page)

“I get it. So your mom is black?”

“Yes. And my dad is from Mississippi, but he’s Puerto Rican. They both ended up going to school at Broward College in Florida. That’s where they met.”

She thought. She spoke. “Excuse me, but let me ask you this, because I’ve wanted to know: Is Puerto Rican considered Latin American or Hispanic?”

“Actually, they’re two different things. Hispanic is not a race. It means someone who relates to Spain or a Spanish speaking country, or they speak Spanish. So it means you come from a Spanish speaking country. Like Mexicans are from Mexico, but they can be called Hispanic because of their language. Latin Americans, or Latinos, are people having actual heritage in the countries of Latin America, like Brazil, Mexico, Chile, Costa Rica, and many others, including Puerto Rico. Does that make sense, or do I sound like a bogus Spanish teacher?”

She winked. “It does make sense. So your dad is Latin American, from Puerto Rico, right?”

“That’s it. So I say he’s Puerto Rican.”

“Got it.” In her mind, she just had to go back to the subject of him dating black or white. “But as far as black women, have you ever dated any?”

“Oh, I did.” He held up one finger. “Once. But her problem was that she had a problem with my height. I didn’t have a problem with hers, and she was damn near six feet tall. Hell, I enjoy climbing a tree.”

“I guess you do. That’s called confidence. And so you never tried another black girl? Maybe a shorter one?”

“Ha-ha. I’ve dated Puerto Rican woman. And trust me, that’s about as close to black as you can get. Puerto Rican women will put their foot down and be ready to fight. But one thing I don’t like, is that they’ve got some big old heads.”

Shasta looked shocked, but was a millisecond from laughing. “They do not.”

“They do. It’s their foreheads. Even my grandmother and aunts have big old heads.”

“No way.”

“Way. I’m telling you. It’s a fact. Have you ever really looked at them?”

“No, Ramón, I haven’t.” Him trying to convince her, him smiling, him playing around, made him look even more attractive to her.

“But I will say, while Mexicans have very small behinds, Puerto Ricans have got some tiny waists, some serious hip action, and big ole bootys, serious fatties. And my-oh-my, Shasta, if I may say so, you do, too. I’m telling you, you have some major booty meat. A big behind will do it to me every single time.”

That much she knew. “Booty meat, huh? I figured as much.” She thought, w
ith all of that penis you’re carrying around, a woman with a big ass needs you just so you can get past her cheeks.
She gave a full grin just from remembering him hitting her from the back like he was Dolomite.

The waiter placed the check on the table and headed to another table.

Ramón took it. “So where’d you get yours? Your backside I mean?”

She snapped out of it. “Oh, it had to be my dad’s side of the family. Maybe his aunts. But not from my mom. No way. She definitely suffers from a true lack of vitamin A.”

“A as in, Noasitol?”

“Yep.” She giggled.

“Well, that or not, she must have some serious genes because you are fine as frog’s hair.”

She cleared he throat. “Ramón. I’ve always wondered. Do frogs really have hair?”

“Yes, they do. It’s just so fine you can’t see it.”

“You say so.”

“See, Shasta, the way your body is, you have more curves than a racetrack.”

She tried to imagine it. “So you’re saying I’m round.”

“No, you’re packed and you’re stacked, especially in the back. I wanna thank your father for a butt like that.”

She rested her forearms along the table and just looked at him. “Ramón, I mean really. You did not just quote Salt-N-Pepa lyrics.”

“I did.”

She shook her head fast and leaned back. “No. Don’t do that. Now I’m not going to be able to get that song out of my head.”

“Oh, please. You do not know that song.”

“Yes, I do.”

He looked her dead in the eyes.

She sat back and watched him, watch her. “What?”

“Those blue eyes though.”

“Now those are my dad’s for sure.”

“Amazing. You are absolutely beautiful, and I mean that. I really want you to know that just to be able to hang out with you, getting to know you, means so much. Believe it or not, right now, I’m beyond words, and for me, that doesn’t happen very often.”

“Oh it won’t last long, I’m sure.”

“True.”

“But thank you. You’re pretty good looking yourself. You’ve got those dimples that are like quarter slots.”

They showed their depth. “Thank you.” His face flushed. He looked over to an area beside the bar and asked, “How about we move on over to the pool table? You got game?” He pulled cash from his wallet and paid, taking his copy of the bill.

“I do.” She looked as certain as she felt.

“I’m ready.” He put the bill in his pocket.

“Okay now. The black ball is the one you don’t want to hit,” she kidded.

“See, you’ve got jokes now. Don’t mess with a professional.” He got up. “Follow me.”

She stood and said, “Professional comedian, maybe. Pool shark, we’ll see. Anyway, I’m still upset about you having to go to the Alpharetta office.”

“Don’t you worry yourself.” He waved his hand before her so she would go first.

She proceeded. “I’m pretty sure that I might be able to do something about it.”

He paced himself beside her. “We’re good. Trust me.” As they walked together, she looked down at his super clean gray, white, and blue paisley patterned, size twelve Air Max Nikes, and then noticed his dark jeans, and the swag to his walk. She couldn’t help but to sing in a low tone, “I love you in your big jeans, you give me nice dreams, you make me wanna scream, oo-oo-ooo.”

He sang in a low tune, too. “I like what ya do, when ya do, what ya do.”

And they both sang, “You make me wanna Shoop!”

This time he laughed out loud.

She towered over him as they sauntered over to shoot pool, and she did manage to look around. Part of her was curious about whether or not the two black women were nearby. She saw people watching, and quickly grabbed Ramón’s hand so that everyone clearly knew she was with the man who kept her in stitches.

But unbeknownst to her, he was also the man who like her, was about to inherit millions.  

As they stepped, a tall, thick Caucasian woman walked by, very close to Shasta, right near the side of her face, and she said the word, clearly, “Wigger.”

Shasta shook out her ears and rolled her eyes, without looking back, then she looked at an oblivious Ramón who didn’t blink nor flinch, and they walked on.

The Shoop had turned to shit.

She knew the journey was going to take a very thick skin.

Chapter 7

Downtown Atlanta

By that Friday, Shasta and Ramón had two more bedroom dates at her place. One of the times was after their dinner at Highlander, after each had won two games of pool. He insisted on no tiebreaker. The second time, last night, she had called him over after one in the morning, and he pleased her along her sofa, just the way she liked it, but she sent him home after.

On this day, the final meeting that was on her calendar for the day was a meeting with Tyson scheduled for seven. She arrived in his office ten minutes early. Her first question, the question she had wanted to ask him for days was, “Why did you transfer him?”

But suddenly, Rochelle, the head of human resources, was also early.

Tyson gave Shasta only a blink, then he stood in his navy blue designer suit when he saw Rochelle. His voice was exuberant for her, though he couldn’t reply to Shasta’s question. “Hello, Rochelle. Thanks for joining us so late in the day.”

“No problem. Hello. Hi, Shasta.”

“Hi, Rochelle.”

Tyson swaggered to his office door and closed it. He went back behind his desk and took a seat. “This will only take a second. As I said in my email, it turns out that we have an issue with calls into our switchboard. Someone is doing some fact-checking, snooping to see if we’re taking over the Pappas stations in Fresno and San Diego. We need to take a look at which individuals have been in on those private discussions, and make sure we send an email confirming that nothing is to be discussed one way or another. It’s all confidential.”

Rochelle explained, holding her iPhone. “Yes, sir. I had a quick conversation with Shasta here earlier. We decided we’ll actually have a meeting with those in this office, and a conference call with the heads of the other offices, if that’s okay. I just think that with an email, it’d be too easy to forward it.”

Shasta nodded, and noticed Tyson wearing the purple and blue striped tie she gave him the previous Christmas. “I agree. I can make sure our communications mention nothing about expanding, or travel to the stations, any meetings or even conversations about recent meetings, FCC inquires, none of that. It’ll all be verbal at this point.”

“Sounds good to me. Let’s get right on it.” Tyson adjusted the knot on his tie, looking right at Shasta.

Rochelle said, “Definitely.”

“Thanks.” Tyson stood and headed to the door.

“Is that all?” Rochelle asked, looking surprised, standing too.

He opened the door and stood there. “That’s all. Have a good night.”

“Yes, you as well.” Rochelle stepped to the door.

Tyson moved aside for her to exit. “I will. Thanks.”

Shasta stood, saying loudly. “Good-night, Rochelle.” And then saying, “Good-night, Tyson.” She walked to the door, hearing Rochelle say, “Nite,” but Tyson shut it after Rochelle.

He was two feet from her. “Ms. Gibson. Just a minute. I want to discuss the points of those conversations, about the meeting and the call if you don’t mind.”

“Okay.” She knew better. “But first, I need you to answer my question.”

“He’s using you. You know, the one I transferred. The short black one.”

She frowned. “He’s not.”

Tyson headed to his desk again, saying. “I told you what I would do. I’m not playing with you, Shasta.”

She walked over and faced him. “You can’t just transfer someone who has had no performance issues, make up some bogus staffing reason, and act like you have someone new coming in to replace them when you don’t.”

“Oh, but I do.”

“HR got someone?”

“They did.”

She came closer. “Well Ramón has been gone since Tuesday, and I don’t see anyone new here. But fine. You do what you want.” She wanted to say more, but only sighed.

He stared and reached for her hand, taking hold of it.

She looked up at him. He put his other hand on her shoulder, and began to squeeze. “You’re tense.”

She angled her shoulder just enough to escape both of his hands, and stepped back.

He again stepped to her, looking down at her face, and then her chest. He even took another step. Uncomfortable. They were nose to nose. He said in a sexy, wanting voice, “Just five minutes. You and me. That’s all I need. Just enough time for me to suck you, you know where. Five little minutes. I know for a fact that’s all the time it takes for me to make you come.” His lustful voice matched his eyes.

She shook out her neck and gave an exhale, looking at him, then speaking in the same sexy, wanting voice as he did. “What I want is for you to forget about this dumb transfer of someone who did nothing to you.”

“I can.”

“You promise?”

“I do.”

Shasta knew just what that meant. She shook out her shoulders and moved to her right, placing her phone on the edge of his desk. She took careful steps, walking back toward the door of Tyson’s private bathroom. She brought her hand up to undo the top button of her black cotton blouse, looked back at him as he watched her, and took a step inside, then turned. She heard Maya’s voice. Just as she did, Tyson said, “Yes, Maya. What is it?” He closed the door behind Shasta.

Shasta heard his office door open, and Maya say, “That was a quick meeting.” She re-buttoned her blouse.

Tyson’s voice was on edge. “I thought I asked you to knock.”

Maya’s voice was soft. “Never this late. Besides, I was just checking to see if you were done. I wasn’t at my desk at seven so I never saw Rochelle or Maya.”

“The meeting was short. I’m about to go the bathroom. You can go home.”

Maya’s voice was even softer. “Oh no. Not yet. I have work to do.”

“It can wait.”

“This can’t.” There was silence.

After a moment, Tyson cleared his throat hard. “Trust me. I need to go in there alone. My late lunch is banging around in my stomach.”

“Just me and you for a minute.”

Shasta’s heart beat fast. She heard a few steps and then the bathroom doorknob turned and it opened a bit. Shasta carefully stepped back. Instantly, the door was pulled to.

“No.” Tyson’s voice had extra depth.

“What?” Maya asked, not sounding mad, but instead, sounding like a purring kitten.

He spoke fast. “Not right now. I told you, I’m not feeling well.”

“What’s wrong with you, Baby lump?”

Shasta grinned inside, saying,
Baby lump
?

“Maya, not right now.”

“Wow. Okay.” The footsteps went further away. “Did someone leave their phone?” There was silence. “Is that Shasta’s phone?”

Damn that Zebra phone case.

Tyson replied, “I guess one of them did. I’ll let them know.”

“It’s Shasta’s. I’ll give it to her.”

He spoke fast again. “Leave it here.”

“I’ve got it, Tyson.”

Shasta heard two sets of footsteps. It stopped. The office door opened.

Maya asked, “Aren’t you going to the bathroom?”

This time his voice was riled up. “Maya. Give me that phone.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down,” Maya said, no longer purring.

“Go home,” he told her.

“Sure thing.” She sounded calm.

“Goodnight.”

Door closed.

Lock sounded.

Footsteps coming closer.

Bathroom door opened.

Shasta was stunned, saying as she saw his face, “You’re seeing Maya.”

He stepped inside and closed the door, standing right before her. “No.”