Okay, That's My Cue. . .
Victoria was hoping that tonight's dinner would make up for her lunch from hell. The Cheesecake Factory in Buckhead was a casual dining spot, popular with the yuppie crowd. She'd been craving cheesecake all week and was thankful for the short wait.
One of the few times that being a party of one has its advantages,
she thought to herself.
As the hostess led her to her table, Victoria noticed two attractive men sitting in the booth directly across from where she was being seated. She slid off her coat, aware that they were watching her, and draped it across the extra chair that no one would be occupying. She took her time as she sat down and scanned the menu. When she looked up in the direction of the two men she had to steady herself... the man staring at her was gorgeous!
He hadn't taken his eyes off her since she'd entered his view. Victoria fumbled with her napkin before getting up the nerve to look at him again. When she did, he smiled and revealed the most perfect set of pearly white teeth she'd ever seen, and dimples so sweet it made her want to smile back at him. His bald head and clean-shaven face added to what she thought was a delicious sex appeal. Her weak attempt to smile back made him grin even harder.
Thank goodness,
Victoria thought when the server came by to take her order. Any distraction was welcome. She stumbled through her order, feeling naked under the gorgeous man's gaze. She had to gather herself before she made her next attempt at innocent flirtation because she couldn't believe she was letting a man's stare have this kind of effect on her. She was used to walking into a room and turning heads. That was the way it had been since she'd turned thirteen and started developing curves. She was about to throw a sexy smile his way when she noticed there were half-empty glasses sitting in the vacant spaces beside each of the men.
Damn! It figures. He's here with someone, but where is she? Probably in the ladies' room,
Victoria thought as she heard the rhythmic chime of her cell phone. She was surprised when she looked at the caller ID. “Tyler, to what occasion do I owe the privilege of a Friday evening phone call?” she asked her best friend. Tyler's wife usually saw to it that Victoria's phone access to him was limited after work hours ended.
Tyler Jacobs had been her
boy
since her freshman year of college. He'd been a sophomore at neighboring Morehouse when they met one weekend at his fraternity's house party. They talked all night, sealing an inseparable friendship. “What's this I hear about your lunch date with Snoop Dogg?” Tyler laughed.
“Umph . . . you talked to Debbie?”
“Yeah. She called me. She feels bad about the whole thing. It sounds fucked up.”
“It was.”
“I could've told you not to let Debbie set you up on a date. I love her like a play sistah, but damn, you know her taste is, uh, out there.”
Victoria laughed, noticing that Mr. Gorgeous was still eyeing her. “Tyler, you should've seen him. The brother had a gold tooth in the front of his mouth, and enough on his body to melt down and make a statue.”
“Get outta here, you kiddin'?”
“I wish. He told me that black women didn't know how to appreciate a good man like him, so he's gonna get himself a white woman. Well, a white woman can have his sorry ass,” Victoria said, lowering her voice.
“See, that's the kinda shit that gives brothahs a bad name.”
“Tell me about it. I've never been so mad and embarrassed in my entire life. But I'll have to tell you all the gory details at another time, I've gotta go.”
“Why? Whatcha doin'?”
“I'm having dinner at The Cheesecake Factory, and I don't want to air my business in this crowded restaurant.”
“Oh, who ya with?”
“I'm with the best company I could have . . . me, myself and I,” Victoria said, trying to sound convincing for the second time tonight.
“Tell that to somebody who doesn't know you like I do. As fine as you are, why the hell are you sittin' up in The Cheesecake Factory by yourself, on a Friday night? How long has it been since you've been on a date . . . I mean a real date?”
Just then, Victoria saw two women approach the table where the men were sitting. Both women were attractive and petite in stature, but that's where their similarities ended. One looked like a typical BAP (Black American Princess) poster girl. Her bobbed, shoulder length hair was relaxed ridiculously straight to within an inch of its folliclely manipulated life. Her tailored herringbone skirt, silk blouse, expensive pumps and understated jewelry said,
I've got style and I know how to wear it.
The other woman was her counterpart's exact opposite. Her long, bouncin'-n-behavin' blondish brown extensions, cropped cargo pants, trendy tight-fitting shirt, and three-inch stilettos said,
I just stepped off the set of Jay-Z's latest video.
Mr. Gorgeous stood up to let the video chick slide into the space next to him. Victoria thought they made an odd pair.
He looks so sophisticated and she looks so . . . not!
she thought to herself. The video chick leaned in close to him, but he looked uncomfortable.
“Are you listening to me?” Tyler asked, pulling Victoria's attention back to their conversation.
“Look, I really don't need another lecture about my love life.”
“What love life?”
“Tyler, please. You know what I've been through.”
“Yeah, but you know I gotta keep it real. You've shut yourself off for over a year now. It's time to get back in the game. You need to get beyond that shit that went down between you and . . . .”
“Tyler, don't you dare say his name,” Victoria hissed in a low voice.
“Hey, you know me better than that. I was just gonna say that you need to get beyond what happened between you and ole boy. Let it go. Victoria, don't allow what happened to keep holdin' you back.”
“I hear what you're saying, and honestly, I agree with you. It's just hard, you know?” Mr. Gorgeous was still looking in her direction, so she tried not to show the sadness on her face that she felt in her heart.
“You know you're my girl, and I'm here for you. True blue, baby.” Tyler paused, then became silent as his wife's voice roared in the background. “Hey, I gotta jet. Allison's calling me and we're running late for dinner with her parents.”
“Oh, you're dining with the king and queen tonight?” Victoria smirked through the phone.
Tyler paused again. “Somethin' like that.” He was ready to change the subject. “Hey, you still comin' to Sambuca tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, I'll be there.”
“Okay, catch you later. And don't forget, you owe me blow by blow details of your lunch date . . . Peace.”
Even after his companion had returned to join him, Mr. Gorgeous was still staring in Victoria's direction. She breathed with relief when the server approached her table again. Ironically, her food came out the same time as the couples' across from her. Mr. Gorgeous and his friend had ordered hearty steak entrées, while the two women had both ordered salads. Victoria's chicken dish took up nearly half her plate and was accompanied by a huge serving of mashed potatoes and vegetables. Together with her basket of bread, it looked like she'd ordered for two. Mr. Gorgeous looked at her plate piled high with food and smiled.
I must look like a freakin' pig! Why didn't I order a salad like most weight conscious women? Like those women!
Victoria silently admonished herself. Then, a little voice inside her said . . . because you're hungry, you love food, and you love to eat! She put Mr. Gorgeous out of her mind and grabbed her knife and fork.
She cleaned all the food off her plate and had conquered an entire slice of chocolate mousse cheesecake by the time she finished. Mr. Gorgeous and his friend were eating dessert while their dates took small sips of their after dinner coffee. He'd been stealing glimpses of Victoria throughout the evening and she'd caught each one of them. She also saw the video chick following the direction of her man's eyes, and the woman looked pissed in a major way. If it was one thing Victoria knew, it was that attractive women always noticed other attractive women, especially if their man was within eyesight.
After leaving a generous tip, Victoria reached for her coat and handbag, ready to return homeâalone. She added extra sway to her hips and gave Mr. Gorgeous one last glance as she glided by his table like an elegant gazelle. Out of nowhere, a server came hurrying by and bumped into her with a tray full of food. Victoria lost her balance and her graceful exit suddenly turned into a giant fiasco.
The collision with the server sent her flying into Mr. Gorgeous' table, hurling her and his half eaten strawberry shortcake to the floor with a hard crash. She fell to her knees, looking about as graceful as a bull on Rollerblades. She put her hand to her head, dizzy with embarrassment. The server began apologizing a mile a minute as Mr. Gorgeous jumped out of his seat and knelt down by her side. “Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was like a freshly brewed cup of coffeeâstrong, rich, and full of flavor.
“Um, yes, um, I'm okay . . . thank you,” Victoria answered, trying to regain her composure. She felt like a klutz.
Damn, I'm having shitty luck in restaurants!
Mr. Gorgeous gently held her arm, helping her up from the floor. When he stood, his muscular body towered over herâa good sign in her book. His hands were strong, and warm to the touch. He held her with the delicate care one would use if handling a rare antique. “You sure you're okay?” he asked again.
Just then, Victoria heard another voice rushing up from behind. A wiry, nervous looking man approached. “I'm the general manager and I saw what happened. Are you all right? Is there anything we can do?”
At this point Victoria wished she could snap her fingers and disappear into thin air. But since that wasn't possible, she had to pull herself together and walk out with what little dignity she had left. She turned to the manager and the server, assured them that she was fine and that all she wanted to do was get out of there and go home. The manager looked relieved as he and the server walked away amidst the busy restaurant noise.
The next task was to face Mr. Gorgeous. “Really, I'm fine. I'm sorry for ruining your dessert,” Victoria apologized. Her eyes were on the floor, examining the reddish-pink mess she'd made of his strawberry shortcake. Slowly, she looked up at him, feeling a sensual heat rise between their bodies.
“Please don't apologize. You didn't ruin anything . . . quite the opposite,” Mr. Gorgeous smiled. “Are you sure you're okay?” he asked, shifting his tone. His voice was now official and commanding, like he was used to asking questions and giving orders.
“She said she's fine,” the video chick leaned over, interrupting.
Mr. Gorgeous turned in the woman's direction, giving her an uncomfortable stare.
“Have a good evening and try to make it home in one piece,” the woman snapped, flipping her long synthetic locks.
Okay, that's my cue to either get going right now, or curse this heifer the hell out.
“Sorry for the trouble,” Victoria apologized again, this time returning the video chick's wicked stare.
She and Mr. Gorgeous stood frozen in place, looking at each other one last time. She knew he felt the same heat that was creating a tingling sensation below her waist. It was in his eyes. She watched as he picked up her coat and bag, handing them to her. “Thank you,” she nodded, then turned away and resumed her glide out of the restaurant. She didn't know it, but he remained where he stood, watching the door even after she'd disappeared.
That night her dreams were filled with his face, his smile, and his touch. She wondered who the mysterious, gorgeous man was who'd managed to occupy her mind and her heart in just one night.
A Surprising Comfort . . . . . .
The next morning Victoria rose early and went downstairs for a heart-pumping workout in her home gym. After a couple of miles on the treadmill she was ready to start her day. Later that afternoon, she sat in her office at work, rubbing her eyes from slight fatigue. I'll finish this up when I come in on Monday morning, she thought to herself as she put the large stack of documents away.
She'd been pouring over the senior management evaluations, or SME's as they were called. SME was Victoria's brainchild. It was a new type of annual review she'd developed to allow non-exempt employees to evaluate their managers and directors.
After putting away the papers, she rose from her desk and was taking a long stretch when she looked up to find Ted Thornton standing at her door.
“You're very dedicated. Only we die-hards come in on Saturday,” he smiled.
This was the second time in two days that he'd startled her. Victoria knew he was in the building because she'd seen his black, vintage Jaguar parked in his reserved space in the parking garage when she came in. Ted was notorious for keeping late night and weekend hours. He was a very driven man, and Victoria admired that.
She noticed how different Ted looked outside of his standard corporate uniform, which consisted of expensive ties and custom-made suits. She examined his simple khakis, white button down, navy blazer, and brown loafers. The look was classically preppy, yet somehow it was very chic on him. His appearance made Victoria aware of her own.
Her black, lycra knit top, snug fitting low-rise jeans, and chunky heeled black boots created an ensemble more fitting for afternoon errands around town, which she planned to do once she left the office, than for work. She wasn't revealing any skin, but she was definitely showing her curves. She hadn't expected anyone else to show up in her department on a cold, rainy Saturday.
Why is he here in my office? Is he checking up on me?
she wondered. “Hi Ted, I'm just finishing up a little work on the SME report,” she answered.
“How's it coming?”
“Very well,” Victoria said, shifting her weight to one leg. “As a matter of fact, my report will be ready by Monday.”
“Good, then you'll be a day ahead of schedule.”
“A day?”
“Yes, Tuesday . . . that's the deadline Patricia stated in the email she sent to the executive team yesterday. Is that not correct?”
Damn, she's trying to set me up,
Victoria quietly seethed.
That bitch specifically told me that the report was due on Wednesday.
“It was communicated to me that the deadline is Wednesday. Nevertheless, it's almost complete. I'm sure Patricia chose different deadline dates for her own reasons,” Victoria responded, hoping Ted would catch her hint.
“Great,” he said, seemingly oblivious to her intent.
Victoria wanted to shake her head, but instead she concentrated on the overstuffed manila envelope in Ted's hand. “So, what brings you down to my office?”
“I was on my way out and thought I'd drop this off on your assistant's desk so you'd have it when you come in on Monday morning. But since you're here, I can give it to you now.” He handed Victoria the envelope. “It's the EMP application packet. I also included some additional reading material I thought would be helpful to you.”
Ted had been on his way out when he spotted Victoria's car in the parking garage. A few months earlier, he'd seen her leaving work late one afternoon and remembered that the silver Audi parked in the reserved spaces for senior management belonged to her. He came back into the building, retrieved the EMP packet off his assistant's desk, and added a few additional items before heading two floors down to Victoria's office.
“Thank you, Ted, but you didn't have to do this. As I said, I don't think I . . .”
“You never know, you might have a change of heart,” he interjected.
She nodded, trying to play it cool. “Okay, I'll look over it this weekend.”
“I hope you're not going to spend your entire weekend working? Otherwise, I'm sure your boyfriend will think I run a sweatshop operation,” Ted hinted with a tease. He was venturing into bold territory, but his curiosity was eating away at him. He knew from her personnel file and from the bare ring finger on her left hand that she wasn't married. But that she didn't have a man in her life was still up for question.
Victoria bit her lower lip, speaking slowly. “There's no boyfriend to worry about how I spend my time.”
“I didn't mean to be presumptuous. I just thought that you were . . . ”
“It's okay . . . really. I was involved with someone, but it ended over a year ago. It's actually been a long time since I've even been on a date.”
My god, why did I just tell him that?
The truth was that she felt a surprising comfort with him. It was like he was just another guy. But she was very aware of who he was, so she knew that she had to be careful.
Ted looked at her with disbelief. He couldn't imagine why she wasn't seeing anyone. He'd been fully prepared for competition.
Victoria noticed the puzzled look clouding Ted's face. “I'm sorry,” she began, “I don't know what came over me. I'm sure you don't want to hear about the details of my personal life.”
“I'm the one who brought up the subject, you just answered honestly, and I'm glad you did. Victoria, I hope to work closely with you in the EMP program over the next year, and that means we'll get to know each other better. I admire you as a colleague, and it's my hope that we'll form a good friendship.”
Ted Thornton wants to be friends with me?
Victoria was a little shocked, especially when she heard herself say, “I'd like that.”
They walked out to the parking garage and stood by her car, laughing and talking for another hour before they each drove off to live their lives in different worlds.