Riding the Corporate Ladder (Indigo) (12 page)

Mr. Foster leaned back in his seat and watched her every move with an odd look in his eyes.

Deena looked up at him quizzically. “What?” she finally asked.

“Were you always a lawyer?” he asked. “Did you ever do any modeling?”

“I’m not going to shake my ass in one of your music videos,” she kidded, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

He smiled. “You’re half right. I’ve got a suite at the Hyatt Regency for the next couple of days. Would you mind shaking it there?”

Deena smiled. She already had what she wanted, but this man was attractive and fine. Plus it’s not every day you can get in a millionaire’s pants.

“I can come tonight,” she said. “I don’t know about tomorrow or the day after.”

He nodded. “Well, I would be very happy to have you tonight.”

* * *

The Blood Money president had a suite on the nineteenth floor of one of the most elegant hotels in Overbrook Meadows. It was clean and plush, filled with all the niceties someone of his status expected. But it was Mr. Foster’s transformation that surprised Deena the most. Once they were naked, he dropped his culture like those $800 slacks and went back to his roots for some down-home pipe laying.

Deena had been with many vocal lovers, but none who were as nasty and explicit as this man. Sprawled on her knees and elbows, she had to look back at him to make sure those words were really coming from the guy she just had dinner with.

“Ooh, this some good pussy,” he told her. “Damn, this shit is good!” He massaged her bare butt and pronounced good like it had a “t” at the end. His hands were soft and his grip on her ass felt nice.

“Uhn…You like it?” she asked.

“Aw, hell yeah!”

He pulled out and dropped down so he could lick up the mess he was making back there. Deena arched her back and purred like a big cat when she felt his hot tongue and hot breaths between her pubes. Mr. Foster kept talking while he dined.

“Damn, girl, yo pussy taste good. [Lick, slurp] You like that? [Suck, smack] You like that?”

Deena started to respond, but his mouth hopped up a few inches and caught her off guard. She squeezed her butt cheeks closed reflexively, but he pulled them apart with slippery fingers and continued to probe her brown eye with his tongue. Deena closed her eyes and shuddered uncontrollably. She gripped the sheets and had the most wonderful orgasm. This was the first time that ever happened without any direct clitoral stimulation.

“You like that?” he asked between licks.

“Oh, you nasty,” she breathed.

“Say what?”

“You nasty!”

“Aw, hell yeah. I like that.” He gave her asshole one last suck and then backed away to look at it.

“You coming,” he noticed. “I see it, girl, you gushing, baby.”

Deena felt his penis probing again. She thought he might try the small hole, but he slipped easily between her pulsating labia instead. Deena exhaled loudly and rolled into a second orgasm. Her eyes rolled back in her head like she was possessed. Mr. Foster grabbed her hips and yanked back hard. Deena felt him all the way in her gut. She screamed with pleasure.

“Hell, yeah. Talk to me,” he ordered.

“Ow,” Deena yelped. “You getting it, baby.”

“You like it, don’t you,” he prompted. “You like big dicks…”

“I like it,” she moaned.

“Say you like it.”

“I like it!”

His thrusts increased in speed and pressure and she knew he was about to explode.

“Give it to me,” she screamed. “Harder. Come on, harder!”

He mumbled something unintelligible, and slammed in deeper than before. Deena felt him throbbing inside her, and she gradually lost the strength in her arms and legs. She slid down until she lay flat on her stomach. Mr. Foster followed, exhausted and spent.

He lay on top of her for a while, breathing roughly into the back of her neck. His body was very warm and comforting, like a blanket.

“You…you the shit,” he whispered behind her ear.

“I know,” Deena said.

“Huh?”

“I said you the shit, too, baby. You the shit, too.”

At work the next morning, Deena wished her director was there so she could inform him of her latest accomplishment, but Mr. Murray was still away on his vacation to France. Deena sent an email to a few other higher-ups instead, and they forwarded the message to attorneys throughout the firm, encouraging everyone to take time out of their busy day to congratulate Miss Newman on her acquisition of the Blood Money account.

By noon most people had called to do just that. Deena couldn’t remember a day when she received so much praise or felt so important at the firm. Even Bruce stopped by with his kudos, and he didn’t seem upset at all that she took the client away from him. In fact, he had a champagne bottle with him when Karen showed him into Deena’s office.

“You did your damned thing, Miss Newman.” He placed the bottle on her desk and grinned with his hands in his pockets. “So tell me, how did you manage it? I thought Bates and Barker already had their claws in him.”

“They did,” Deena confirmed. She reclined in her chair, loving the spotlight. “But Bates and Barker aren’t about shit.”

“I know that,” Bruce said. “But what did you tell the Blood Money guy?”

“I told him Bates and Barker aren’t about shit,” Deena said. Today she wore a black pants suit with a baby blue blouse and a blue silk scarf. She looked good in all of her clothes, but these slacks were her favorite because they had stretchy fabric that clung to her butt and hips. Even happily married attorneys turned and looked after her when she passed them in the halls. Some of the women did, too.

“You told him that?” Bruce asked. “Those exact words?”

“Oh, yeah,” Deena said. “That’s going to be my platform when I start my own practice. I’m going to put it on all the billboards: Attorney Deena Newman: The lawyer who keeps it real.” She looked towards a far wall and waved her hand like she could really see it.

Bruce laughed. “I didn’t know you wanted to open your own practice.”

“Hmph. I’m not trying to make money for these rich folk all my life. If I make partner, yeah, I might stay for that. But otherwise, I want my own place. I want to see my name in lights.”

“There’s a junior partner position coming up,” Bruce kidded. “Maybe you could go for that.”

Deena nodded. “I know,” she said. “I’ve had my eye on it.”

Bruce frowned. “On what?”

“The junior partner position.”

He shook his head. “You’re kidding, right?’

“No, I’m not,” Deena said. “Don’t you think I’d make a good junior partner?”

“Yeah, in about twenty years maybe.”

“Mr. Messing made junior partner at forty.”

“Mr. Messing graduated from Harvard. Plus he’s a Desert Storm vet and the son of a senator.”

“I’m going for it,” Deena said earnestly. “I think I can get it.”

“Just because you have a few emails floating around doesn’t mean they’ll remember you tomorrow,” Bruce warned.

Deena took offense to that, and it showed. “Thanks for the champagne,” she said.

Bruce wavered with uncertainty. “Hey, you’re not mad at me, are you? I was just being honest.”

“I’m not mad at you, Bruce. You and I just have different opinions on life: I think there are no glass ceilings I can’t break through. You think a black woman can’t make it that far.”

“Hold on. I’m black, too. I never said anything about race. Plus we already have a black junior partner.”

“Then it’s my sex?”

“Stop that. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“You know what,” Deena said, “I’m going to make it—all the way to the top. It’s my dream, and it’s what I deserve. I don’t have time for naysayers.”

He chuckled. “You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I have to believe in me,” Deena said. “If not, I’ll have to listen to fools like you. Thanks for the champagne, Bruce.”

“Deena, I— ”

“Good day, Mr. Hayworth.”

He frowned and shook his head before he turned to leave. “Congratulations anyway,” he called over his shoulder.

Deena’s phone rang a few seconds later. It was her secretary.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Is everything all right?” Karen asked.

“Fine. Why?”

“Mr. Hayworth came in all happy. He looked upset when he left.”

“Once he gets that stick out his ass, he’ll be all right,” Deena said.

Karen giggled. “I have a call holding for you on line two.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s your friend Yesenia.”

A smile quickly softened Deena’s features. She picked up the phone eager to tell her buddy about last night’s happenings. She recounted the whole story quickly and kept Yesenia on the edge of her seat—especially when she got to the part about how she got her contracts signed and her salad tossed by the same multi-millionaire.

“Nuh-uh,” Yesenia gasped.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“I swear before God.”

“Ewww. You’re nasty.”

“Why? I didn’t do it.”

“Yeah, but you let him.”

Deena smacked her lips. “Yeah, right. Like you wouldn’t have.”

“Okay, I’m jealous as hell. What was it like?”

Deena squirmed a little in her chair, suddenly feeling the aftershocks. “It was crazy,” she admitted. “Then it was good. Then it was weird again. And then it was good again and I wanted him to keep on going.”

“Man.”

“It was the sweetest taboo,” Deena said. “And it was unexpected. I think that’s what made it so wild—but still weird.”

“Looks like you have to teach Keshaun a new trick,” Yesenia ventured.

Deena shook her head. “No, I don’t think I’d want that.” But then she thought about how skilled her thug already was with his tongue. “Maybe…”

Yesenia laughed. “But you got the contract before all that?”

“I did,” Deena said with definite pride. “I did it with hard work and perseverance, just like you wanted.”

“Aww, ain’t that special?” Yesenia teased. “Are you going out tonight to celebrate?”

“You already know,” Deena said. “I’m about to call the twins and see if they’re down. You’re coming, too, right?”

“Sorry, but I can’t. I got a date tonight.”

“You got a date?”

“Yes, I have a date. Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I didn’t, girl. Don’t go there. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“His name is Darren.”

Deena could hear her friend smiling over the phone. “Is this a guy from the dating service?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’ve got to come with us tonight then,” Deena ordered her. “I already told you I want to be there when you meet him.”

“Where are y’all going?” Yesenia asked. “I don’t want to take him to a club.”

“We can go to the Coco Lounge,” Deena offered. “That place is pretty quiet on the weekdays. You’ll have time to talk. You can get a quiet booth and snuggle if you want.”

“We’re not snuggling on the first date,” Yesenia said.

Considering how far Deena would go on a first date, she thought her friend was quite the prude, but to each her own.

“So you’re coming?” she asked. “You’re going to bring him?”

“All right,” Yesenia said. “But don’t make fun of him if you don’t like him.”

“I won’t,” Deena said. “I promise.”

* * *

When she got off the phone, Deena called the twins to see if they were down for a girls’ night out. Latasha and Natasha were the only high school friends she still kept in touch with. Deena met them her freshman year at Finley High, and they quickly became a three-headed monster; you could hardly ever catch one girl without the other two within earshot.

The twins had always been high-yellow and high maintenance, and they were both still single after all these years because they shared the same philosophy: Men were a means to an end, and you can get more money from them if you don’t have a pesky husband hanging around.

Deena couldn’t get in touch with Latasha, but Natasha was home and eager for festivities.

“Hell, yeah, we want to celebrate!” she said.

Deena laughed because she hadn’t even told her the occasion yet.

* * *

She didn’t get home until after seven, but that was okay tonight. Deena was still in a good mood, and she couldn’t wait to let her hair down and get wild with her friends.

She came in through the garage and tossed her things to the kitchen table so she could scoop Boogie for some good loving. She heated a quick meal for him on the stovetop and popped a DiGiorno in the oven to simmer while she got dressed.

Deena showered with the hardcore rhymes of Lil’ Kim exploding from her bedroom stereo. The Brooklyn rapper’s lyrics took a nose dive when her mentor/ ghostwriter Biggie died in a hail of bullets over a decade ago, but Lil Kim’s first album was a certified classic.