Ebony Angel Page 2

  “Are you serious? You don’t really have anyone on the line do you?”

  He held the phone to her ear, then watched her closely. After a few seconds, she relaxed, held the phone for herself, then laughed and joked with Nonno. He knew his grandfather would win her over. He hadn’t met a woman who could resist the man’s charm. Even his ice queen of a mother melted when Nonno was around.

  She disconnected and handed him the phone. “Your grandfather’s a mess. He said if you don’t treat me right, I should look him up.”

  “Note to self: Stay away from Nonno when Ebony’s around. Now tell me about your child.” He dropped the phone into his inside coat pocket.

  “Crystal’s seven, and the light of my life.”

  His face scrunched up. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “That old? I thought you were eighteen, and I was getting me a young chick.” He flashed a sly grin, his eyebrows bouncing. “Do you have any pictures?”

  “Not on me. I haven’t carried pictures since my wallet was stolen a few years ago.” The the 87th Street station was announced. “Now, I know this is your stop.”

  “I’ll ride to 95th with you, then double back. Are you trying to get rid of me?” he teased, suddenly worried his questions had become too persistent, too personal. He wasn’t usually this forward, but he wanted to know everything about her.

  “Of course not. So you’re opening an office on the south side? Folks out here need financial planning, too.”

  “My thinking exactly. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll be the CFO of a Fortune 500 company by the time I’m forty.” He moved to Chicago to take a regional manager position in his investment firm. Only thirty years old, he was the youngest regional manager in the company’s history.

  “I have a few financial connections if you’re interested.”

  “Thank you. I’ll take all the help I can get. So what about you? What are your plans after college?”

  She made a praying motion with her hands. “I’m so glad this is my last semester. I thought graduation would never come. My short-term plan is finding a job with a consulting firm and moving. My long-term goal is to own a consulting firm someday.”

  The excitement and pride in her voice warmed his heart. She was living proof that the economically depressed parts of the city produced more than criminals, drug addicts and welfare queens. “So you want to be the boss lady?” The train stopped at the 95th Street station. “I’ll walk you out.”

  They walked onto the platform together and went to a secluded but well lit corner. “Thanks for everything,” he said. “I don’t know how to show my appreciation.” She bit her bottom lip, and he thought he would overheat. He longed to kiss her luscious lips, but feared spooking her. “I’ll call you.” He could tell by her stiff stance that she didn’t quite believe him.

  She took off her scarf and handed it to him. “Wrap your ears and face with this. You’ll have to walk a few blocks from the station, and there’s nothing to block the wind.”

  “I’m not taking your wrap. You need it.”

  Slowly spinning with her arms held out, she said, “Look at me. An Eskimo called just the other day wanting to borrow this coat.” She flipped the front flap, then shook the hood. “My scarf and hat are a fashion statement.”

  He hadn’t intended on being outside for longer than the time it took him to run from his parking space to his office. He allowed her to tie the scarf loosely around his neck, grateful she didn’t sign on to the stereotype that white people don’t get cold. Her sweet aroma called to him. “What perfume are you wearing? It’s been driving me crazy all morning.”

  “I’m allergic to perfume. I use lotions and shower gels. This one’s called sweet pea. I bought it at Bath and Body Works.”

  He stroked the scarf, wishing it were Ebony. His instant attraction to her surprised him. He had always been level headed about women. “I think I’ll buy stock in Bath and Body today. They have a winner.” He lifted her perfectly manicured fingers to his lips, then pulled her hand back slightly, staring open mouthed. “Tell me this isn’t a ring on the end of your nail.” He touched the tiny gold ring on the tip of her index fingernail.

  She laughed. “You’re just noticing it?”

  “You are one beautiful—yet strange—woman.” He gently kissed her knuckles. “I’m pleased to have met you, Miss Ebony Washington.”

  “You are one handsome—yet impulsive—man. I think you need to head on to work and warm up, Mr. Richard Pacini.”

  Ignoring curious stares from bystanders, he took her by the hand and escorted her to the exit stairway. “I’ll call you tonight. Is nine too late?”

  “No. I’ll be around. Here comes your ride, and I need to get on before I have to wait for the next bus. Bye.”

  He watched her walk up the steps, wave over her shoulder, then disappear around the corner. He almost convinced himself that if she hadn’t of smiled when she waved, he would have gotten on the train. He laughed at himself. He had never acted this rashly in his life. He could only pray she didn’t think him a scatterbrain. There was something about her that kept him wanting to see more of her.

  He checked his Tag Heuer watch—slightly past 6:30. He took out his cell phone and dialed one of his business associates as he went up the exit steps. Someone had to open the office; he didn’t have to be the one. He finished his call while running to catch up with Ebony at the bus stop.

  * * *

  Richard and Ebony sat on a bench in the rotunda of the student union. Early on, barely a soul was in sight, but as the morning wore on, the place came to life. People were everywhere talking, joking, laughing and hurrying to class. It reminded Richard of his student days at Howard University.

  The hours with Ebony passed like minutes. He wondered if she hadn’t checked the time or moved seats for the same reason as he. He didn’t want to do anything that might ruin the moment and bring their time to an end. Slightly winded from their jog from the bus stop, they had sat on the first bench they came to. Unfortunately, it was next to the revolving door. With each rotation came a gust of freezing air.

  The patch of bright yellow sweater that peeked through the opening of Ebony’s coat was a lovely contrast with her dark skin. He appreciated contrast in everything from color to personalities. The often unexpected beauty resulting from combining the differences intrigued him. “You’re one contrast after another,” he said to Ebony.

  “Don’t you mean contradiction?”

  “Granted, it’s not everyday someone from your neighborhood earns an undergraduate degree from a school like the University of Chicago. But I don’t consider that a contradiction. I think of contradictions as things that shouldn’t be but are. The contrast between your upbringing and your college experience will give you an advantage over others.”

  “Is that why you went to a historically black university?”

  He held his coat closed as the revolving door spun around. “That and the incredibly beautiful women.” They both laughed.

  “I’ll bet your parents had a fit.”

  “And you would be right. At least my mother did.” He sat tall in his seat, tilted his head slightly upward, cleared his throat and imitated his mother’s clipped tones. “This simply will not do, Richard. Harvard. Yale. Now those are real universities. Somewhere you can be proud to be a graduate of.”

  “My friends and mother weren’t supportive of my going to the U of C. I had a full scholarship, but they didn’t understand the opportunity. I don’t think they were trying to hold me back on purpose. A lot of people are afraid to try something different, and they become afraid for you, too.”

  “Why didn’t you go there for your graduate school?”

  “To be honest, I didn’t want to go to graduate school. You don’t know how bad I want to move out of my neighborhood. The only type of job I could find would have paid enough to move me from one bad area to another.”

  “Oh yeah, we were in a
serious recession.”

  “The market was filled with experienced computer science professionals who had been laid off and were willing to take any position. So I decided to continue in school to give the market time to recover. By the time I graduated, I had already resigned myself that the U of C part of my life was over. Don’t get me wrong. They have great programs, but I was ready for a change.”

  “Is Chicago State a historically black college?” Over ninety percent of the students he had seen so far were black.

  “It’s not considered one.”

  “Ebony?”

  They turned toward a chubby young woman walking toward them. She stopped a few feet short of the two. “Oh, so this is why you skipped class today. You’d better not miss artificial intelligence.” She continued on her way.

  Ebony pulled her coat sleeve back and checked her Timex. “Oh my goodness! It’s almost three.” Grabbing her book bag and purse, she stood. “Where did the time go?”

  He took her book bag from her. “I’ll walk with you.”

  They waited outside the classroom the few minutes before her class started. “Sorry I made you miss class.”

  “I had a great time. Thanks for making me miss class. I’m sorry for making you miss work.”

  He wanted to kiss her, but settled for taking her soft hands into his. “I’ll call tonight.” She didn’t pull away or seem to care that students were watching them. He didn’t care, either, but knew to test the waters before dipping in. “I have more contrast to discover about you.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “It will be.” He handed her book bag over. “Tonight.” He brushed his lips over her ear, then touched his lips to her cheek.

  “Tonight.” She nodded a goodbye.

  Tonight would be different for him, he thought. After the day they had shared, he saw his whole life changing.

  * * *

  Ebony sat against the wall of the aerobics room at the school gym with her friend, Jessica Moore. She had missed her morning workout, but made up for it after her artificial intelligence class. “He had the sexiest grin you’ll ever see. It’s crooked.” She felt herself flushing, so lowered her head to her knees. “When he called his grandfather, I thought I’d die.”

  Jessica took off her ponytail holder, letting her black microbraids fall to her shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re interested in some white guy. Trae’s gonna snap.”

  “He really needs to get a grip.” She leaned against the wall.

  “He’s Crystal’s father. He has a right to be concerned.”

  “There is a tremendous difference between concerned and controlling. I’m not playing his games. I date whomever I please.”

  “All right. You gonna get that white boy shot.” She pointed her chubby finger at Ebony. “He’s only after you for sex. Once he gets a taste of dark chocolate, he’ll be on his way. You need to marry Trae. He loves you, girl. What do you see in that white boy, anyway?”

  Ebony closed her eyes, wondering why her friends kept pushing her toward marrying Trae. It all seemed so simple to her: She didn’t approve of his lifestyle, she wanted things out of life he could never offer and she wasn’t in love with him.

  Her heart sang with joy as images of Richard entered her mind: His curiosity intrigued her, his openness freed her, his goofy humor tickled her. But there was more. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint drew her to him, but this much she knew: He understood and wanted the same security she longed for. Praying he would call, she sighed.

  “Are you listening to me, Ebony?”

  “I’m tired of this.” She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know. You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

  “I am.”

  “This is unbelievable. If you’re my friend, why would you want me to marry a man you think would shoot someone? Trae is a drug-dealing gang-banger. His life isn’t a secret. He doesn’t even have enough sense to be ashamed of his criminal activity or try to change his life.”

  “He’s not that bad,” Jessica protested. “If you would marry him, he would change, but you won’t give him a chance.”

  “I’m not so arrogant as to think I can change people, and I shouldn’t have to. Don’t get me wrong. I love Trae. He gave me Crystal. I’ll always have a special place in my heart for him. But I don’t want the life he has to offer. I want—need—a security Trae doesn’t understand.” She also resented him for forcing her to remain a part of the drug world—a world she detested. The lives she’d seen lost to addiction weighed heavily on her soul. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

  “Trae wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, girl.”

  “I’m not talking about physical security. I don’t approve of his lifestyle. How long until he’s arrested? How long before the cops search my home because of his activities? How long before he’s killed? How long before Crystal discovers what he is? How long before she loses her father?” She trailed off.

  Voicing some of her greatest fears spiked a chill of reality along her spine. She had lost her father to the drug life, and couldn’t bear the thought of Crystal losing hers, couldn’t bear the thought of her baby seeking to fill a void that could never be filled. She had been trying for years to convince Trae to give up the drug life so they could all be free. She thought about the arrangement she had made with Trae when Crystal first came into her life. She thought he would change. Prayed he would change. Thought she could change him. But reality finally slapped sense into her. Changing had to start in Trae’s heart.

  “I don’t want what he has to offer.” She had also worked for years to provide the security her child deserved; soon, it would be hers. She could picture living in a nice quiet neighborhood where it was safe for Crystal to play hopscotch on the sidewalk, make friends with the neighborhood children and have a normal life.

  Ebony didn’t need a large home, just a home of her own in a safer neighborhood. Earning her master’s degree was the road to her dream, not dating a drug dealer, not counting on others to provide for her child. Now that the economy had finally turned around, her day was coming.

  Jessica stared at Ebony a long while. “You really like this white boy, don’t you?”

  “Stop calling him white boy. His name is Richard. And, yes, I really like him.” Talking about Richard sent excitement pulsing through her body. “Besides being fine as hell, we connected on an emotional level from the moment we met. He didn’t bat an eye when I told him about Crystal. We talked for nine hours, and it was like nine minutes. I can’t find the words to explain.”

  Jessica sucked air through her teeth as she rolled her chubby neck. “You know I got your back, girl. If you want this wh…Richard, I’ll help you.” She took Ebony’s hands into hers. “Just do me one favor. If Richard ever hurts you, don’t let Trae find out.”

  “Oh, my goodness. Aren’t you being a tad bit dramatic? I’ve dated other men, and guess what? Trae didn’t hurt any of them. We grew up on the streets. He’s only surviving. I just found a better way to survive.” Years ago, her uncle Dan used to be a drug dealer, but he turned his life around and was now a role model for the young men in the community. Many a night she wished Dan were her father. She didn’t see any reason Trae couldn’t do the same as Dan. Trae was an excellent father to their child, so she knew he had the potential in him to change. She silently prayed Trae’s time for change would come soon.

  “I’ve never seen you so worked up over a man before. This isn’t like you.” She held Ebony’s chin with her fingers, examining her closely. “You’re glowing, girl. You could actually fall in love with this guy. Trae didn’t have anything to worry about with the others.”

  “Trae knows I’ll never be his woman. Someday I’ll marry. I don’t know who, but you better believe it won’t be a drug dealer. I need to shower before I head downtown.” They walked along the hallway toward the locker room.

  Jessica looked up at Ebony. “So when you gonna hook me up with Skeet?”

  “He’
s a playa. I’m not hooking up my best friend with a playa. That’s final.”

  “I’m grown. I can handle him.”

  Ebony opened the locker room door. “You’re not blaming me for his playing you. Nope. This ain’t that kind of party. Ask him out on your own. You need to stop thinking you have the power to change people.”

  Jessica tsked. “Why do you insist on playing this tired, old record?” She spun the combination on her lock.

  “Because I don’t want you hurt—again.”

  “Instead of saving me, you need to worry about Richie Rich hurting you. Hook me up. We can double date.”

  “You have issues.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Richard glared at Clark, his work associate and longtime friend. “Don’t ever call her ghetto-fabulous again.” He spun his chair around and looked out the window at the plaza parking lot.

  “We didn’t move to this God-forsaken tundra for you to ruin everything for a ghetto-fabulous piece of ass.” Clark snatched Richard’s cell phone off the desk and scrolled through to Ebony’s number. “How could you show me this crap? How could you get so serious about any woman so fast?”

  Richard regretted telling Clark about Ebony. In his excitement, he hadn’t thought clearly. He wanted to announce to the world that he had found Miss Right. He vowed to be more careful in the future. “Ebony won’t ruin what we’ve set out to do.” He understood Clark’s confusion. Before today, Richard had appeared to be all business. In reality, Richard worked so hard to keep loneliness from consuming him.

  Clark walked around the desk to face Richard. “You know I’m not prejudiced. Some of my best friends are black. But you also know the old white men who run businesses have different beliefs. They want a certain image for their company. A CFO with Slamquesha for a wife doesn’t fit the bill. Yes, you need to find a wife, but she needs to at least be white. If you must go slumming, pick a trailer-park tramp and clean her up. Make her look the part.” He pressed the delete button then, handed the phone to Richard. “Bye, bye Slamquesha.”