Moments of Clarity (8 page)

Chapter 7

On the bus ride home, Mr. Ramirez's advice resounded in Sasha's ears. Throwing her pocketbook on the couch, Sasha reached for the phone and pulled up her caller I. D. list. She pressed the redial button, and feeling a little nervous, she waited.

“Hello.” Sexton's voice was slurred from sleep, and Sasha fleetingly wondered if he was naked.

“Sexton, it's me, Sasha. How are you?” Now that she was talking to Sexton her voice sound breathless, and she knew it.

“So you finally decided to return my calls,” Sexton responded.

“I'm sorry that I'm just getting back to you. I've been really busy.” Sasha knew her excuse was lame.

“Liar,” he said mildly. “You decided after the stunt Tiara's husband pulled that you were off men.”

Sasha was chagrined that he had figured her out so easily. “I have to say that I was thrown for a loop. They've only been married for nine months. What could he have been thinking?”

Sexton yawned into the receiver. “A man will pick up a prostitute for one of two reasons. Either he doesn't have a steady woman or he's insecure about his sexual prowess. With a hooker you don't have worry about performance. She'll tell you what you want to hear because her job is to make you feel like you're the man.”

“Have you ever been with a prostitute?”

“Do I have any reason to feel insecure about my lovemaking abilities?” Sexton countered smoothly.

“No, you do not,” Sasha answered emphatically.

“I didn't think so.”

“So then you're telling me that you have a steady girlfriend,” Sasha replied.

“Sasha, if I had a girlfriend I would not have gone home with you and I would not have called you three times this week.” He paused to let his words sink in. “I'm a very busy man and don't have time to play games. Listen, I'm not again going to try to convince you to go out with me and I'm not going to keep reassuring you that I'm a good man. I'm feelin' you, and I know you're feelin' me.”

“Why have you been so persistent?”

“Anything worth having is worth working for,” he answered promptly. “Sasha, is there some dark secret about you that makes you question the fact that a man could want you from the moment he saw you?”

“No.”

“Are you so unlovable that it's impossible to meet a man who may just want to get to know and maybe love you?”

“I hope not,” she responded softly.

“Then let's see where the road can lead us.”

There was a long silence and the air hung heavy between them before he said, “Why are you putting up these barriers between us?”

“I want to spend time with you, Sexton.” She still sounded unsure. “I guess that it's because I don't want to get hurt like Tiara.”

“Tiara's husband is insane. I am not.”

At Sexton's words, Sasha started laughing. “His ass
is
crazy.”

Sexton also chuckled. Once the laughter died down, there was an obvious lighter atmosphere between them.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“I'm not working and I have no plans,” Sasha answered.

“Good. I'll pick you up around seven-thirty and we'll go out to eat. Sunday morning the team is leaving town for a road trip and I would like to see you before I leave.”

“All right, Sexton.” Sasha tied to hide the fact that she was a little disappointed that she would not be able to see him that night because from the moment Sexton answered the telephone and she'd realized that he was in bed, her libido had gone into overdrive.

“Sasha,” Sexton drawled.

“Yes, Sexton?”

“Dress casually,” he ordered before he hung up.

* * *

When Sasha opened her door the next evening she felt desire curl inside her at the sight of Sexton Johnson. He wore a pair of blue plaid shorts with a matching light blue shirt. A baseball cap was pulled down so she couldn't read his expression, but she could tell by the flash of his smile that he was pleased by what he saw.

Sasha had done as she was told to do and had dressed in a light blue baby doll dress. She had finished off her ensemble with a pair of matching blue sandals.

She was tired of wearing her hair pinned up all the time, so she had brushed it back from her face and fashioned it into a ponytail looped casually to one side. Her makeup was lightly applied, but she had darkened her lashes and eyebrows. Her bright red lipstick was dramatic. Sasha had a passion for large earrings, and whenever she wasn't at work it was customary for her to wear three pairs of large hoops in her ears with the largest in the hole in her lobe and the other two running a train up her ear.

Sexton leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. She felt herself blushing because she had leaned forward, expecting him to him to kiss her on her mouth.

Sexton's smile widened and he said teasingly, “Sasha, if you want me to kiss you I will.”

“I don't want you to kiss me,” she denied, half-embarrassed.

“Liar,” he said laughingly. Then he enveloped her in his arms.

She closed her eyes in anticipation.

When Sexton's mouth touched hers it was firm and insistent. He opened her mouth with his and then she felt tongue. Electric shocks coursed throughout her as his tongue explored her mouth.

She put her arms around his neck and curled her whole body into his. Sasha felt the hardness of Sexton's body before he slowly withdrew his lips from hers and gently pushed her away.

His voice husky with desire he said, “If we keep this up we'll never get to dinner, and I intend to sit down and have a date with you before I go on the road.”

“Okay.” Sasha dropped her eyes and reached for her purse and keys.

When she walked with him out of her building, she was surprised that he led her to a white Escalade. He opened the door for her to get in.

“What happened to my dream car?” she asked, once comfortably seated inside the car.

“Do you mean my Chrysler 300?” He glanced at her quickly before he pulled out into traffic.

“Yes.”

“It's in my garage, along with my Benz. I only drive that Chrysler when I'm pressed for time and trying to navigate a lot of traffic. It's much easier in that situation than this Escalade.”

“So you're living the dream, right?” she said, smiling at him.

“Not yet.” Sexton momentarily took his eyes off the road to give her a direct stare. “You didn't tell me that the Chrysler is your favorite car. They look more expensive than they actually are. That dream of yours shouldn't be an unreachable one.”

“It really isn't. My sisters offered to buy me one, but I turned them down.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“Because it costs about five hundred and fifty dollars a month to rent a space in the parking garage near my loft and I didn't feel that I could afford the expense.”

“If your sisters offered to buy you one, didn't they take that into account?”

“Of course they did, but I don't like to be dependent on other people for money.” A vision of Tiara's worried face flashed before her. “Gifts are one thing, but needing someone to help you pay a monthly bill is another.”

“Still, your sisters must be pretty cool to offer.”

“My sisters are great. Dominique is the oldest and she's married to Benjamin, who's a doctor. We argue all the time, but usually I start it just to aggravate her and get her going. It's mad funny when I get the best of her in an argument. They have a set of twins who I'm just crazy about. And you met Desiree at Tiara's party.”

“I remember her. She spent a lot of time talking to Calvin. I kind of thought that they were going to hook up, but I guess nothing ever kicked off.”

“It doesn't matter. Now she's married to Tyler and I adore him. He's very good to my sister and has made her very happy. He's helping her to realize her dream of going to law school.”

Suddenly Sasha started laughing and Sexton looked at her inquiringly. “What's so funny?”

“I have to tell you. That night at the party, Desiree and I were making fun of your name. Sexton Johnson. Talk about labeling a kid.”

Sexton flashed a smile at her. “I'm not surprised.” He gave her a tell-me-something-I-don't-know look. “I've heard it all before. So it's all girls in your family?”

“No, I have a brother, Marcus Junior. He's the oldest. He got a promotion at the post office not too long ago, and with last year's Christmas bonus he bought me that LCD television you saw at my loft. He's an avid sports fan and said that I need a decent television if I expect him to ever come and visit me.”

“So you don't hate men after all? You have seen some good male role models?”

“Of course I have. My parents are happy and they've been married forever.”

“So,” he drawled, “you have seen some marriages that seem to be happy.”

“Obviously I have, but unfortunately more times than not I've seen the drama that Tiara is going through. She's in total denial about Peter. You know, I think that she was considering taking him back for financial reasons.”

“Don't give her any advice,” Sexton cautioned. “In the end she's going to do what she wants to anyhow, and if you let her know that you think she would be a fool to take him back you'll lose a good friend if they do reconcile. She'll tell him what you said and he'll get angry and try to sabotage your relationship. Also, she'll resent you because she'll think that you're passing judgment on the choice she made.” Sexton gave Sasha a knowing look. “That's why she didn't call you when she found out what the deal was. She was trying to keep Peter's betrayal a secret from you and everyone else.”

Sexton parked the car. Looking around, she realized that they were on Lenox Avenue and that the purplish building was Sylvia's restaurant in Harlem.

“You brought me to eat at Sylvia's!” Sasha exclaimed.

“I sure did,” he said with a smile. “I eat here at least once a week. It's the home away from home for every hungry bachelor in New York City.”

“I just love their peach cobbler. It's to die for.”

“Then let's go get some.”

Sasha remained seated because she knew that Sexton expected her to wait until he walked around and opened her car door. As they started down the sidewalk, Sexton suddenly crossed behind her in order to position himself on the outside of her body.

Sasha looked at Sexton with a quizzical expression. “Why did you switch positions like that?”

“The man is supposed to walk closest to the curb when with a woman,” he replied smoothly.

“And why is that?” Sasha slid Sexton a sly look.

“Back in the day, before there were inside toilets, people used to throw the contents of their spittoons and slop buckets out of the window. When you throw something the contents will form an arc. If the man is on the outside the contents will land on him and not the woman. He's sort of a shield for her.”

Sasha's mouth fell open. “I can't believe that you know the reason. Some men know where they're supposed to walk, but I've never known anyone able to give the reason.”

“So do I get an
A
on your little pop quiz?” Sexton asked with a smug look on his face.

“Absolutely.” She smiled back at him.

When they entered, the restaurant was overflowing with people. The interior was reminiscent of the movie set for
Harlem Nights,
and at the tables people sat around laughing and telling stories. The minute Sexton entered the restaurant, he took off his cap and Sasha noticed that almost every female in the restaurant started staring at him. She had to curb her desire to stand in the middle of the room and shout, “I KNOW!”

She saw one lone table in the corner of the restaurant and tugged on Sexton's arm, pointing it out to him. He immediately made a beeline for it, motioning for Sasha to follow.

As she followed him across the room she realized that the women who had been staring so hard at Sexton were now sizing her up.

Sexton stepped aside to allow Sasha to slide in the booth and then slid his body into the other side, stretching out his long legs so that he could be comfortable.

A waitress placed a check on the table to their right and then walked over to them. She smiled and said to Sasha, who was reading the menu she found placed on the table, “Do you need more time before you order?”

“No,” Sasha replied, “I already know what I want, I'll have Sylvia's World Famous Talked About Bar-B-Que Ribs, oven baked macaroni and cheese, collard greens, yellow rice, and peach cobbler for dessert.”

“What would you like to drink?” the waitress asked as she quickly made notations on her pad.

“I'll have a Bedelia's Tropical Pina Colada.”

“Got it,” she answered. Then she looked at Sexton and smiled. “Do you want the usual?”

“Did you even need to ask? But instead of my usual Long Island Iced Tea I'll try the Devil in a Blue Dress.” He looked at Sasha and lifted his eyebrow.

“Got it,” She smiled again and walked off in the direction of the kitchen.

“I got that.” Sasha smiled and touched the collar of her dress. “Good grief, Sexton, you eat here so much that the waitress knows what you're going to order?” She shook her head as if to say that was not a good thing.

“I know, I need a wife.”

Sasha looked at Sexton, but his expression was unfathomable.

“Having a wife doesn't mean that you would be eating home all of the time. A lot of women can't cook,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the memories of some of the dishes she had tasted by women who had boasted that they could cook.

“Can you?” he asked.

“Of course I can,” she paused, “and I'm pretty good at it. My mother made sure of that.”

The waitress returned with their drinks. He reached for his drink and took a long sip. “Uhmm, this stuff is good,” he said suggestively to Sasha.