He's Incredible. . .
Denise walked over to Victoria's desk carrying two cups of coffee. “Girlfriend, I'm glad you're back,” she said, handing Victoria a mug.
“Thanks,” Victoria beamed, taking a quick sip.
“So tell me, what's got you showing all your teeth this morning? If this is what being out for a week will do for you, I'm turning in my leave form today!”
Victoria gave Denise all the juicy details of her weekend with Parker.
“Wow, he's a catch. He's fine, romantic, and he's a surgeon on top of all that.”
“I know, he's incredible, and I'm seeing him again tonight.”
Victoria was impressed by Parker's gifted intellect. She learned that growing up he'd been quite the prodigy. He'd graduated from high school at sixteen, whizzed through undergrad at Howard in three years, then on to Med School at Harvard, completing his residency at Johns Hopkins. He'd been an overachiever his entire life.
“You're seeing him tonight?
Hmmm,
sounds serious already,” Denise said, throwing caution into her voice.
“I know what you're thinking . . . ”
“How you figure that?”
“Because I know you. You're thinking, âshe hasn't had a date in a hundred years, and now she's head over heels for the first guy who comes her way.'”
“Okay, you're right this time.” Denise laughed.
“Denise . . . I
really, really
like him. And he's already told me that he's not interested in a one-night stand. This man wants a relationship.”
“He said that?”
“Yeah, I mean, how many brothers are that forthcoming?”
“Well, I'm certainly looking forward to meeting Mr. Stud-muffin. And speaking of stud-muffins, I cleared your calendar so you'll have time to prepare for your
after-hours
meeting with Ted.” Denise winked with a mischievous grin.
Every Last Detail ...
When Ted returned from New York early yesterday morning, he'd instructed his driver to head straight from the airport to the office. It wasn't the way he'd originally planned to spend his first day back home, but he had to take measures to address the stagnant production issues of ViaTech's New York operations.
After plowing through a desk piled high with paperwork, he left the office to meet with his Realtor and look at several properties in the area. He planned to be out of the house he shared with Trudy before she returned next week. The quicker he made plans to be free of her, the sooner he could be with Victoria. This was part of the groundwork for repairing his life. The first step was to get a divorce, the second was to move out, and the third and most ambitious step was to confess his feelings to Victoria.
Ted looked at his watch. It was five-thirty on Monday afternoon, and any minute now Victoria would be standing before him. He'd thought about asking her to meet him at a restaurant for dinner or some place away from the office. But this kind of pronouncement required a more private setting, one which he could control. He was uncharacteristically nervous. Not because he had doubts, but because this was the most sure thing he'd felt in his life, and the thought of Victoria not returning his feelings cut at him like a dull-edged knife.
He planned to go slow. He wouldn't tell her how crazy he was about her right away, just that he was interested in pursuing a relationship that extended beyond the platonic confines of friendship. He would wait for her reaction and go from there. If she wasn't interested, he knew she would let him know. She was that kind of woman. So he prayed she'd give him the response he was hoping for.
“Ted?” Jen's voice caught him off guard. She was standing in the middle of his doorway. “I'm leaving now. I just called Victoria and she's on her way up,” she smiled with knowing.
Ted looked up, giving her a nod. “Thanks, Jen. Have a good evening.”
He watched his assistant as she walked away. He knew that she was on to him, but he wasn't worried. She was one of the few people he trusted, so her knowledge gave him comfort. Plus, she was good friends with Victoria's assistant, a connection he knew would serve him well in the future. A few minutes later, he heard a faint knock on the door.
“Hi.” Victoria smiled, slowly walking toward him.
He took in her long, ivory-colored skirt and matching silk blouse, wanting badly to feel her body next to his. He came from behind his desk to meet her halfway.
“See how well I've recovered. No crutches.”
“Yes, I see. And you look beautiful, as usual.”
“Thank you.”
Ted's desire was momentarily replaced by concern. “V, let's have a seat,” he said, leading Victoria to the large leather couch on the other side of the room. He sat down close beside her. “I hope you don't mind me calling you that?” he asked tentatively. The way Victoria penned her email to him had become his private term of endearment for her. If she looked uncomfortable or objected, he knew it would be a sign for him to proceed with caution.
“I don't mind at all. I think it's sweet.”
A green lightâProceed!
“Are you feeling okay? How's your ankle and your leg?”
“They're healing well. All the swelling is gone.”
“I'm glad to hear that you've been a good patient.”
“Would you expect anything less?” Victoria teased. “I know I can be difficult and stubborn at times, but I eventually come around. It's a trait that I readily attribute to being my father's daughter,” she laughed. It was a characteristic that until now, Victoria had not been willing to admit, but her stubbornness was matched only by John Small's. “And Ted, thanks again for the basket. Godiva chocolates happen to be my favorites.”
I was right!
“Well, I'm glad you liked them.” He took a deep breath, deciding to jump straight in. “V, I'm glad you agreed to meet with me.”
“Sure,” she nodded.
Ted felt his heart pound hard in his chest, like the drums he'd heard the tribal village men beat on the Discovery Channel special he'd seen the night before. He started to sweat. “V, can I get you something to drink?” he asked, standing to regain his composure.
“No thanks,” she answered, noticing the shift in his demeanor.
Ted walked over to the mini bar on the other side of the room.
Dammit, what the hell is wrong with me? Okay, get a grip. Go over there, and get back on track,
he told himself. He took another deep breath to calm his nerves.
Victoria looked at her watch. She wanted to give Ted the opportunity to talk about whatever it was that he wanted to share because it was obviously something big, judging by his mood. But she was supposed to meet Parker for their date tonight and the clock was ticking.
Ted saw Victoria glance down at her watch. “Do you have to leave soon?” he asked, pouring himself a gin and tonic.
“Um, actually, I have a date tonight,” she blurted out. “But I can be a little late. You still have something you wanted to talk about, right?”
Ted had to steady his hands to finish pouring his drink.
Did she just say she has a date?
He walked back over to the couch, reclaiming his seat beside her. “You have a date tonight?” he asked, trying to make his voice sound casual.
“Yes. But I already told him that I had a late afternoon meeting, so. . . .”
“You've met someone?”
Victoria blushed. “Yeah, but we're not here to talk about me . . . ”
“I'm curious. When did this happen?”
Victoria told him about how she and Parker first met, then gave him a brief snapshot of the weekend they'd shared. Ted felt his heart sink. He didn't want to think about her with another man, but he knew it would kill him if he didn't ask questions. “Tell me about him?” he asked.
Victoria eyed him curiously. “Do you really want to hear all this?”
“Yes, V . . . every last detail,” Ted forced himself to say. He took a long gulp of his drink and braced himself.
Oblivious to Ted's anguish, Victoria told him about each encounter she'd had with Parker from their first eventful meeting at The Cheesecake Factory, to their first coffee date, to their dinner and carriage ride, to their three-hour phone call last night. With each romantic detail she revealed, Ted's heart sunk deeper and deeper. He didn't know how much longer he could continue his charade of nodding politely and smiling appropriately, as if he were happy to hear about her new romance.
“So, that's my story,” she concluded. “Now, let's change the subject to you. What is it that you wanted to talk about?”
“Sounds like you two are quite an item.” Ted faked a smile, bringing the focus back to Victoria and her new man in question.
“Yes, there's something very special about him. But I'm exercising caution. My last relationship taught me a thing or two about rushing in.”
“You're absolutely right,” Ted encouraged. “That's a very wise approach to take.”
She could see that he was stalling. “Ted, please tell me what you wanted to talk to me about. You said it was personal?”
“Yes . . . I've filed for divorce. My attorney drew up the papers while I was in New York last week. Trudy will be served when she returns to town. I'm looking at houses in the area, and in the meantime I'll be staying in a suite at the Ritz Carlton.” Ted rattled off the life-changing events as if he'd just told her what he had for breakfast that morning.
Victoria was amazed by the casualness of his revelation. It was the same tone he'd used when he first told her about the details of his paper marriage. She could see that there was still something weighing heavy on his mind. “I know this must be difficult for you, but you're doing the right thing.”
Ted drained his drink, desperately wanting another. “Yes, it was a decision that was long overdue, and I feel better now that I've made it.” His mind vexed under the weight of Victoria's news. He wanted to prolong their time together, to keep her from her date.
“I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to share this with me,” Victoria said in earnest, “and I'll be here for you whenever you want to share anything that's on your mind.”
They talked for another hour about Victoria's ideas for SuperNet, Ted's week in New York, and their plans to go jogging again once her ankle was fully healed. Finally, she told him she had to leave.
He walked her to the parking garage, and on their way down she called Parker to let him know she would be there soon. Ted's ears burned as he listened to the sweetness in her voice, making polite apologies for running late. He resented and envied the man on the other end of the line.
Ted cursed himself after returning to his office. He was frustrated and angry, and he knew he had no one to blame but himself. “Why didn't I just tell her how I felt last week before I left for New York?” he said aloud, banging his fist on his desk. And in that moment, he knew what he had to do. He had to pursue her, quietly and patiently. He knew that her new relationship would fizzle, and when it did he'd be there to pick up the pieces. He knew that because he knew Victoria was meant to be with him.
Professional Or Personal. . .
Victoria stood in the vestibule-like entrance of Parker's ultra-luxe building and rang the buzzer to his unit. “Is that you?” Parker's deep sexy voice floated out to her.
“Yeah, it's me.”
“Thought you'd never get here. Come on up.”
She heard a buzzing noise and a click of the double doors that gave her entry into the inner lobby. She stepped into the mahogany paneled elevator and rode up to the fifth floor.
“I'm glad you finally made it,” Parker welcomed her at his door. His day had been long and hard, but now his mood was instantly brightened. He'd labored through three rough surgeries, each wrought with complications. After meeting with hospital executives about the upcoming Africa project, he made his rounds, then finished the last of the paperwork on his desk. He was tired, but the sight of Victoria standing in his doorway was the perfect end to his day. Parker reached for her hand. “Come in. Let me take your coat.”
Victoria had imagined over and over in her mind what Parker's home was like, and as she looked around, it was pretty much what she'd expected. He had a generous-sized condo, especially for the city. The living room was furnished with a large entertainment center, outfitted with every kind of high-tech electronic gadgetry known to man. The brown leather sectional and mahogany armchair were perfectly centered, and situated in the middle was an iron and glass coffee table.
She walked across the pristine hardwood floor and ran her fingers over the hand-carved set of African drums that sat in the corner beside a large tropical plant. She examined the African prints and the collage of African masks hanging on the walls. It was
good
art tooâoriginals. “Your place is really nice,” she said.
“Thank you, coming from you that's a great compliment.”
“Who decorated for you?”
“I did it myself.”
“Really?”
“What . . . a brother can't have good taste?” Parker teased.
“I didn't mean that. It's just that most men don't get into decorating. They usually leave that kind of thing to their wife, girlfriend, or a designer.”
Parker laughed. “I don't have a wife or a girlfriend . . . yet,” he smiled, “and I'm much too practical to pay a designer to put together what I already know I like, so I did it myself.”
Victoria looked at him and smiled.
Thank you, God, for answering my prayers!
She wanted to ask him if he was handy at fixing things around the house, but decided to table that question for later.
“Let me give you a tour,” Parker motioned, leading Victoria through the front rooms and toward the long, wide hallway. Four beautifully framed Vanderzee prints hung on one side of the wall, while family portraits decorated the other. Victoria stopped to admire them.
“I like your Vanderzees. Very nice.”
“Thanks, my oldest brother gave them to me as a housewarming gift.”
Victoria turned to look at his family portraits. There must have been twenty pictures of various sizes covering the wall. As she examined each impeccably framed photo, she felt the air grow thin. From the two large portraits of who she assumed to be the family patriarch and matriarch at the top, to the many children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and other relatives scattered throughout, they all looked the same. They were all very light in complexion. Some even looked white. The older black and white portraits of Parker's ancestors depicted somber-looking men and women, devoid of any recognizable African features. They were dressed in what Victoria could see was the very finest in turn of the century attire. She imagined this was what a wall of pictures in the Sanders' home would have looked like. It brought back a painful past. One she'd only heard about...
The week after Victoria had been born, her mother's family traveled to North Carolina to visit their new addition. But the first thing they all wanted to know was the infant's skin color. Everyone in Elizabeth's family was very fair in complexion, as were all the people who married into the clan. The Sanderses believed in the old fashioned practice of color-codingâmaking sure the pale hue in the family stayed that way. Elizabeth often recoiled at her family's ways. “Mother, how many times do I have to tell you, we don't use the term
colored
anymore. We're black,” Elizabeth would say.
“We are colored, and mildly at best. We will never be
black
,” her mother would throw back in a matter-of-fact tone.
John was the lone chocolate chip in the batch, and the only reason he was accepted into the Sanders family was because he and Elizabeth's brother, Maxx, were best friends, but more important, he came from a family with money and land. John never had a problem with the Sanderses, but he knew how they were and he'd never liked it.
When the family came to visit, John tried to have patience with his in-laws because he wanted things to go smoothly, especially after all that he and Elizabeth had been through over the last couple of years: losing their first baby, and nearly losing Victoria as well. But when Elizabeth's mother made her now infamous comment, the shit hit the fan! Grace Sanders looked at her tiny one-week-old granddaughter and started what was to escalate into a dramatic scene. “At least you can tell she's going to have good hair, she's actually a cute little baby to be so dark,” she had the nerve to say.
John was fuming and Elizabeth was embarrassed by her mother's behavior. But Grace didn't stop there. “Don't get upset with me. I'm only thinking about her future. It's one thing to be a dark colored man, but who will want to marry a dark colored woman? Really, I'm just thinking about the poor little thing's future,” she said.
Within five minutes, John had cleared his home of Elizabeth's entire family. Even though John was educated, successful, and came from a family with money, he was still dark. And down south in those days, having light skin was just like having money; it gave you a leg up. The fact that John was dark was a strike against him.
“You should be grateful that we even allowed you into our family,” Grace spat out at John, then turned to follow her husband and other family members out the door.
John was normally a restrained man, but they'd pushed him over the edge. “You can all kiss my black ass!” he yelled, slamming the door on his mother-in-law's heels. After that, relations with Elizabeth's side of the family were non-existent. Her brother Maxx was the only relative who still remained close to them.
“This is the Brightwood clan,” Parker announced with pride. “That's my grandparents at the top,” he smiled, pointing to the two large portraits, “and the rest are their children and their children's children, along with others who've married into the family.”
“You sound very proud of your family,” Victoria said with an edge.
“I am. We're very close, and that's hard to find in many families today. We believe in tradition.”
“Oh yeah, what kind of tradition?”
Keeping the darkies out?
Victoria thought. She could hear the sarcasm coloring her voice, and she was sure he'd heard it too.
“The tradition of family, hard work, and strong morals. Those kind of values.” Parker paused. “Victoria, are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah, I'm fine.” Victoria tried not to judge, but she knew what that scene was all about. Looking at the pictures on Parker's wall took her back to that night when she was seven years old. The night she learned how to swallow hurt and rejection like bad medicine.
“Shall we continue?” he asked.
Victoria didn't want to ruin their evening because of a wall full of pictures. “Sure,” she said.
“Now, on to the love den,” Parker smiled, giving Victoria a wink. She looked at him suspiciously. “I'm only kidding,” he laughed.
Parker's bedroom was a mixture of rugged masculinity and modern comfort, with deep colors and contrasting fabrics. His mahogany king-size sleigh bed was covered with a rich-looking paisley-patterned comforter that made Victoria want to lay on top of itâwith him. She walked over to inspect his large master bathroom and walk-in closet. She looked at Parker and wondered how many women had recently taken the Brightwood home tour, and if his bedroom was the main attraction.
She tried to put her negative thoughts out of her mind. “Since we're going to miss the movie, do you want to go straight to dinner?” Victoria asked.
“To be honest, I really don't feel like being in a crowded restaurant tonight. I was thinking we could order something and stay in. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure.”
After looking over several menus, they decided to order Thai. They sat next to each other at a safe distance on the couch, waiting for their food to arrive. Victoria could feel his heat and it made her want him. She had to find a distraction. Her eyes landed on a photo album sitting on the bottom base of the coffee table. “Do you mind if I look through your album?” she asked, hoping to uncover something that would contradict what she'd seen on his family wall of shame.
“Help yourself. But I must warn you, there are a few ex-girlfriends in there . . . all ancient history, of course. Unlike women, men very rarely throw away anything.” They shared an awkward laugh at his joke. Now Victoria was more curious than ever to see what she would find.
The first few pages were a repeat of the hallway, filled with noble looking, color-conscious Brightwoods of the past and present. Parker gave her a run down of who was who in each picture. They leafed through page after page of family gatherings, wedding photos, and pictures of Parker in various stages of development from Boy Scouts and Jack and Jill, to his college days at Howard.
He's a Kappa,
Victoria smiled to herself. He was a member of the same fraternity as Tyler. She hoped that being frat brothers would give the two men a good start, especially since Tyler was so skeptical about the men she dated.
They moved on to several pages of Parker posing with different women. Victoria remembered what Juliet had said about him having a lot of women, and even Parker had told her so himself. The women were all very attractive, well-bred looking BAPs, and they all looked like his relatives. Victoria didn't want to obsess over the color thing, but it struck her as too calculated to be coincidence. She wondered if Pamela, the one who had moved to Atlanta to be near him, was one of the women on the pages in front of her.
Parker could see Victoria's uneasiness. He put his hand over hers and reached to close the book. “Victoria, those pictures are old. I lost contact with most of those women years ago,” he said in a serious voice, returning the book to the bottom of the table.
Victoria wasn't ready to discuss her suspicions of his possible color bias, or admit it to herself.
Why would I even be here if he felt that way? I need to just relax and enjoy the evening,
she told herself.
After their food arrived, Parker chose a smooth white wine from his collection to accompany their meal. He lit two candles, and they ate, serenaded by the soft, glowing light. Parker sat his chopsticks on the side of his plate, reached for Victoria's hand, and held it in his. “I'm glad we stayed in tonight.”
“Me too,” she smiled.
After they finished their meal, Victoria helped to put away the dishes before they returned to the couch. She felt amorous sitting so close to him. She'd been thinking about kissing him since she walked through the door. But she knew she had to be strong because Parker's seductive charm was like credit card debt . . . it could sneak up on you, and before you knew it you were about to go over your limit.
“How's your ankle feeling? You were walking so well when you came in, I almost forgot to ask.”
“It's fine. As you can see, the swelling is completely gone, and so is most of the bruising on my thigh. But I still can't wear pants or pantyhose until it heals a little more.”
“Oh, let me take a look.”
Before Victoria could respond, Parker had lifted her long flowing skirt and was moving in for a closer examination. His quick action took her by surprise.
Parker saw the look on her face. “Don't worry,” he said gently, patting her hand, “I'm a surgeon. I've seen it all.” He glided his fingers over her leg and upper thigh. “Mild abrasions, several small lacerations, but not too bad . . . probably negligible scarring . . . Obikwelu does clean suture rows,” Parker said, almost to himself.
He was talking in his professional doctor voice and it made Victoria laugh.
“What's so funny?” he asked, still examining her leg.
“It's interesting to see you totally disconnect like that. One minute you're Parker Brightwood, charming and sexy. And the next you're Dr. Brightwood, serious and methodical. It's an interesting dichotomy.”
“There's a time and place for everything. As a medical professional it's critical that I separate my personal emotions from my professional responsibilities,” he said, continuing to rub her thigh, but more slowly now.