Diary of A. . . (3 page)

Touched by her concern, I said, “She got a
little off, if you must know. But I don’t think that her personal
life is affecting her work.”

“I know, but I just know she loves him and
what she did… It was in a moment of weakness.”

“You know?”

“Yes,” she said obviously. “Everyone knows
that she slept with the president of the company, but it wasn’t to
get the V.P. spot. She would have gotten that spot even if she
hadn’t slept with Earl.”

This was a real blow to me. Erin slept her
way to the top. Smart and beautiful, I didn’t think she would have
to sleep her way to the top. Still, this made me feel a little good
about myself since I never had to do that in order to get where I
wanted.

“Well,” I said, trying to hide the fact that
I wanted to smile. “I’m sure Mrs. Nabors is going to be fine,
Lisa.”

“I hope so.” She snapped her finger
suddenly. “Oh yeah, Peter left this morning because his wife went
into labor. He asked if you could take his three o’clock. I checked
your calendar and didn’t see anything in that slot.”

I didn’t have anything left. Yet I wondered
why Peter, the office sales supervisor, would ask me to take his
three o’clock.

“Let me check my email and I’ll call you
back,” I promised, wanting to hurry away before I started to grin
about Erin’s condition.

I know it was wrong to find her situation so
humorous. But damn, when you find out the woman (whose job you
really, really would like to have) slept with the boss, then that
can be pretty fucking funny to you. Especially because you now know
that you’re better than her.

And better is going to get me where I want
to be.

Getting to my desk, I popped open my Outlook
and checked my messages. Peter had written me an email with the
subject line, “Really Big Favor!”

Opening it, he said, “Gotta get to my wife,
but I would love for you to grease the wheels for me by taking Mack
Jackson out to Seldom Blues. The reservation is made and
everything’s all paid for. Just sign my name on the credit slip and
it’ll be fine. I already had it approved by Earl, so you’re cool.
Just sit and listen to him ramble off and let him know he’s in good
hands. Can you do this for me? Didn’t want to go through the bitch,
‘cause she’s been acting like a cactus is up her ass.”

I knew he was talking about Erin. Peter had
written this from his cell phone. I emailed back. “Got your back,
but you owe me big, buddy.”

I called Lisa to confirm that I’d take
Peter’s three o’clock. She promptly delivered Mackeroy Jackson’s
file to me. We needed his business to push out about half a million
dollars worth of orders. I’m the best, so letting Mackeroy Jackson
know that our service is the best would be no problem.

I called the company car to be prepared to
take me to Seldom Blues while I freshened up in my private
bathroom.

Entry Five

(Yawning)

I went and met Mackeroy Jackson, feeling
very confident that I could sway him to choose our company. I
wasn’t a sales associate, but I knew Peter wouldn’t send me if
there were financial negotiations involved.

Most likely this was an old white man just
undecided and needing a little convincing.

The host led me to a table, where there sat
this guy about six feet in height, wide shoulders, light chocolate
skin and a head of red hair, which was very rare for a black man.
Mackeroy Jackson was far from white.

When he stood up, I was even more aghast or
more like turned on at the most handsome man I had ever met.

I said his name hesitantly to make sure I
was not addressing maybe his assistant. When he shook my hand,
looking just as wary, I said, “That’s a strange name.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “But Peter is a strange
name for a woman.”

I blushed furiously. “I apologize. I thought
the assistant or Peter had informed you that Peter’s wife went into
labor and he asked me to come because he didn’t want to cancel. I’m
Sheryl Banks.” I handed him a business card with my title and
contact information on it.

Mackeroy looked very impressed. “Lovely name
for a lovely woman,” he said, kissing those thick pink lips against
my knuckles. Then he waved the host away to help me sit.

When he sat across from me, we ordered
drinks and then met each other’s eyes. I was feeling warm all over.
He had this sultry, sensuous stare that made me flush from my head
to my toes.

Dammit! I have to change my underwear yet
again.

Pushing away my sexual need, I began to
focus on business. I answered all of his questions along with
relaxing conversation. I garnered a few things about him in the
process. He was thirty-six, president of his family’s business,
divorced, with two children - one of which was heading to college
in a couple of years (he said this gratefully).

We laughed and I found myself very attracted
to this man. When our dinner was over, I knew I had to get back to
the office. But I could tell he didn’t want me to leave, so I
called the office and asked Lisa to adjust some conference calls
and a late appointment.

“A man named Mr. Patrick called,” Lisa said.
“He said he was referred to you by your business card.”

I frowned, not really catching the name.
“Can you forward his information to my palm?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After I hung up, Mack asked while licking
his lips hungrily, “You didn’t move your schedule around for me,
did you?”

“That depends. I don’t mix business with
pleasure, Mr. Jackson.”

“So when do you get off work?”

I laughed, loving his teasing nature. “That
all depends on when you are finished with business.”

He checked his watch. “Let me make some
calls and refresh myself. I can meet you outside in a couple of
minutes.”

“Should I call my company car to pick me
up?”

“No. I could take you back to your office.
If you don’t mind?” His eyes danced.

I nodded, feeling the moisture increase
between my thighs.

When he left the table, I signed the receipt
and then went to the bathroom to refresh myself. I didn’t know what
to expect from him and I was almost nervous.

He was fine! Past fine and damn if he wasn’t
overly successful. I’d love to have him wrapped around my
finger.

I stepped outside a few moments before him.
His gray Benz limousine pulled up and we sat in the back. Soon as
the door closed, Mack asked, “Since you don’t mix business with
pleasure, I assume kissing you would be crossing the line?”

“It would be,” I said, smiling
mischievously. “If it meant kissing you would garner that account
our company wants.”

“I was going to give you the account because
you’re damn smart and because if Earl has a team of you, then I
know I’m in good hands. Kissing me would have nothing to do with
the decision I make concerning your company.”

I liked that response.

Leaning over, I kissed him with so much
passion that even I was amazed. Yeah, I was definitely turned
on.

He pulled me into his lap to straddle his
waist as our tongues circled each other. I tilted my head to feel
more of his ravaging my mouth. One moment I thought the breath was
being sucked out of me. The next moment I was breathing in too much
air.

He was touching my body, revving me up some
more. I wanted whatever he had to offer.

Somehow we maneuvered our clothes out the
way. Then there was nothing between my heaven and his shaft to
impale inside of me, except a rubber. I was glad he had one,
because I had not brought any with me.

It was feeling glorious. Or was it just the
need to release a lot of sexual tension? Either way, I was a sex
vixen, riding his thick rod like I hadn’t had dick for centuries. I
think I came when he first entered me. My muscles clasped around
him so tight that he cursed like I was choking the life out of
him.

“Damn sweetness,” he hissed, sweating and
breathing heavily. “Oh shit!”

I like it when they talk.

I rode him real good, feeling my thick
juices coat him, loving the friction our bodies made. I vibrated
repeatedly as I orgasmed multiple times all over his manhood.

He threw his head back, clutched my waist
and held me close. “Oh damn, Sheryl. Oh damn!”

Mack’s fat nine inches pulsed deep within
me. We shuddered together. Yeah! It was good, right, and I didn’t
regret it one bit.

When our breathing calmed down, he whispered
in my ear, “When can I have some more?”

I giggled, because I was thinking the same
thing.

Entry Six

I was late for work this morning. Not
because I wanted to be, but because of my sister.

Oh, I never mention her, because… well
that’s a long story. Lauren Banks is a complicated person. She
thinks the world shitted on her and didn’t even give her tissue to
wipe it up.

She’s always the victim and I really don’t
want to speak to her most of the time. Sure I’ll call her for her
birthday. I even sent a gift for her wedding anniversary. She
married the first guy she had sex with - poor thing.

Now back to why I was late today.

I had not come in the house until two that
morning. Mack and I had a late after dinner snack at his house, got
it on again and then he had his driver bring me home. Even then we
both didn’t want to leave each other.

I really enjoyed myself with him. He was
charming, romantic, and thoughtful. Different for a man like him,
but a bonus for me. He even sent me a text message when I arrived
home to let me know he had really enjoyed himself.

I stayed up the rest of the night going over
résumés for my assistant position. Then I emailed Lisa to let her
know my choice without an interview. I really didn’t have time to
go through all that crap. I just chose the one that looked good on
paper and who Lisa had found great references for.

Finally, I made it to bed.

Then about six o’clock in the morning, my
sister Lauren knocks at my door, looking as if she had just found
anything to throw on her body. Large bags sat under her eyes.

I immediately thought something horrible had
happened to my mother.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, wrapping my robe
tight around me. “Are you okay? Is momma okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Sheryl, I mean health
wise.” Lauren was almost an exact replica of me, except she looked
like a ten year older version of me. Though she was just three
years older, she had this kinda frail look about her. Like if you
raised your voice at her, she’d pass out.

“So why are you visiting me at this time of
morning, Lauren?”

Tears welled in her eyes and she wailed - I
kid you not – WAILED, as if she were dying, “I’m leaving Mitchell!”
Then she collapsed in my arms.

This took me aback because Mitchell was
Lauren’s world. He’d eat dirt for her. I knew if she ever left him,
they’d both be tore up from the floor up.

I tried my best to comfort her, but she
began to get louder and louder. I coaxed her over to the couch and
we sat down.

“Why would you want to leave Mitchell?” I
asked.

Lauren looked up with tears streaming from
her blood shot eyes. “I- I can’t be married to him, Sheryl. I just
can’t.”

“Why not?”

She sat up and even moved a little away from
me. “I’ve been having these weird dreams. Like… well, like bad
dreams.”

I frowned, not understanding her. “I don’t
comprehend you, Lauren. Just spit it out.”

“I think I was raped.”

My heart stopped. I could feel an old
sisterly protectiveness stir in me. Something I hadn’t felt for
Lauren in a long time. “When?”

“When we were little.”

I knew then that Lauren was trying to get
into the “victim role” again and thus didn’t take a word she said
serious. “In the dream you were raped?”

“Yes, but I think it happened for real,
Sheryl.”

“When?” I demanded to know.

“Remember when we were kids and Momma use to
send us to Uncle E’s house?”

I was like six or seven when we use to have
to go to Uncle E’s house every other week. I hated it because it
messed with the Barbie parties I’d have with my neighborhood
friends. And even though Uncle E was nice to me, he treated Lauren
like she was a sore spot on his ass. I didn’t care. By the time I
was eight though, Momma told us Uncle E had died and that was
it.

“You think Uncle E raped you?”

“Yes!” Lauren hissed.

“And you’re just remembering it? Have you
told Momma?”

“I did, and she said I was talking crazy.
She said pregnant women always had crazy dreams.”

I was shocked again. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes,” she replied, as if I should already
know. “But I really don’t think it is that.”

“Okay, so what did Momma say about Uncle
E?”

“She said I needed to put it to rest. That
whether it happened or not, I needed to put it to rest. But you
know what that means, right?”

Shaking my head, I really didn’t know what
that meant. “What?”

“That Mitchell’s not my first. All this time
we relished the fact that we were each others’ first, but as it
turns out, he’s not mine after all. I know in my heart that Uncle E
took my virginity.”

I sighed and tried my best to comfort her by
rubbing her back and arms. “I think you should go to a doctor,
Lauren.”

“I don’t want to.”

“What about a preacher?”

“Sheryl, don’t play with me. If I was raped,
then Uncle E could have raped you, too, and you’re repressing the
memories.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, but its okay.”

I hated being accused of something that
wasn’t true. “I wasn’t raped. All I remember about Uncle E was that
he would try to buy me stuff all the time and I wouldn’t let him. I
never understood why Momma made us visit him so much.”