To Each Her Own (The Swirl Book 1) (2 page)

“Bye. And thank you.” He said in a lower voice, “I hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave.”

She could feel his eyes. She looked back. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”

“No. Just Spurs fans.”

She then headed on down the hall, wondering,
Why in the world did I agree to have drinks with the mailroom guy? He’s in his twenties. He’s short. And, he’s my coworker. Good Lord!

At that instant, she looked up and said, “Hi, Mr. Bain.”

“Shasta.” The CEO of the company, Tyson Bain looked serious, nodding as they passed each other. He wore all black, even his tie and shirt. “Don’t be late for your meeting.”

“I won’t.”

He proceeded down the hall. She looked back at him, and he looked back at her. She quickly turned away, remembering the recent companywide email that Ramón alluded to about workplace dating and the pitfalls of getting involved with a coworker. And there he was, her boss, just a few feet away from her after she accepted an offer to meet a coworker for drinks.

She walked into the ladies’ room and entered the stall, knowing that in her life, what she decided upon was to her liking, and it was no one else’s business. A couple of things in her life she had kept to herself and decided to live with, just because she desired a life as full as it could be. She believed in the term
To Each His Own
but she had changed it to symbolize a liberated woman’s right to do her own thing, actually making it
To Each Her Own
. She was far too progressive to worry about rigid corporate standards. Based on her two degrees and hard work, she had earned her corporate job and her six figure salary. She even received money every month from her wealthy father’s trust fund. Money, for her, was not a problem. She was happy, for the most part.

All that was missing was the white picket fence style of life that she had put off for so long, which included the kids, the golden retriever, an SUV, and of course, a husband. The clock was ticking. Her thirty-nine year old eggs were expiring and she knew it.

And so, she would get through the day and then go to her bachelorette home and change for her evening with her friend Maya, watching
Scandal
; two single, childless women who had never been married.

As she sat on the throne she told herself,
Screw what he thinks. Tyson is not one to talk.

Besides, he never practiced what he preached. And he never ever, from day one, honored the covenant of his own marriage. Shasta knew because, Tyson Bain, was her personal part-time lover.

As much as she tried to convince herself that it was her degrees that had landed her the quick rise to Sr. Vice President spot at Bain, Shasta Ann Gibson had slept her way up with her mouth skills.

And it irked the hell out of her.

Chapter 2

Johns Creek, GA

“First of all, can I just say that I am so sick of these men out here?” Maya Rose Turner asked Shasta with vigor as she sat on the denim blue living room sofa in Shasta’s Fulton County townhome that evening
.

Shasta lived in a sage, three-story, corner unit townhome that had three single garages. The half-million dollar craftsman home in the gated community of Johns Creek Walk had four bedrooms, and four and one-half baths. The master bedroom suite was on the main floor. 

Shasta sat on the tan chenille recliner near the stone fireplace, bouncing her bare foot while her legs were crossed. “Was that a statement or a question?”

“Both.”

“Okay. Why do you say that? Was the date that bad?”

Maya’s dark brown, freshly flat-ironed, shoulder length hair shook while she spoke. “Well, this guy, whose name was Jim, was late, first of all. So after I got past the fact that he was on CP time, I had to deal with him talking about his ex-wife for damn near two hours. He never even asked me my sign or my religion, or if I enjoyed my meal, where I’m from, if I’m a baby’s momma, a convict, a stripper, nothing. He just talked and never shut his damn trap, even while he was swirling his mush refried beans in his mouth.”

“Okay, first of all, CP time. As in colored people time?”

“Yes. It may not sound nice, but the last three men I dated had the CP watch on their wrists. Don’t judge me.”

“Okay, whatever. But the chewing with his mouth open, eww. That’s just nasty, and selfish. Why’d you even listen to him for that long?”

“Well, first of all girl, he ordered the good stuff from the bar. The Patron was on and poppin’ and I was sitting there buzzed, ordering shrimp and lobster and whatever else was clever. The only good thing he did all night, other than run his mouth, was pay the damn bill.”

“Oh. I see. So you used him for his money.”

“Hell no. He used me by asking me out and wasting my time, so I just sat there like I was his friendly neighborhood therapist and I nodded, over and over again while I sipped strong tequila and sucked on sweet lobster. A dang counselor would’ve charged him two hundred an hour. The way I see it, he got off cheap.” Even though Maya sounded mad, she gave Shasta a goofy smile.

Shasta gave a goofy smile back. “Well dang, I can’t argue that. I guess it’s safe to say there won’t be a date number two with his butt. Was there anything you actually liked about him?”

“He had a nice car. A brand spanking new Audi, actually, midnight blue. Oh, and he had a nice hairline. Nice hands were manicured. He was tall. Dressed okay. But none of that crap mattered. He was a selfish motor-mouth, still bonded to his ex. Period. I ain’t trying to mess with that. Negroes are a trip.”

“Well alrighty then.” Shasta shifted in her seat, looked up at the white coffered ceiling, leaned forward and then she grabbed the stemless glass of red wine from the coffee table.

Maya eyed her down. “Why are you looking so smug?”

Shasta tried to give as pleasant a face as possible. “I’m not.” She took a small sip.

“What dates have you been on lately?”

Shasta sat back, holding her glass. Her long, golden, rhinestone-tipped fingernails shimmered. “Oh, so now you’re going to get on me since your date went south?” Shasta bucked her head back.

“Excuse you? I never hear your dating stories. You even said you were gonna get on Plenty of Fish, and as far as I know, you never did go fishing.” Maya reached to the side table and took hold of her wine glass as well.

“You’re right. I didn’t. Online just isn’t for me. If I don’t run into someone, it’s not kismet. I’m wondering whatever happened to chemistry, chance meetings, and courting? Chemistry is something you’ve got to smell.”

“It’s 2014.”

“And?”

“And so you’re not seeing anyone?”

“No.” Shasta took another small sip.

“Uh huh.” Maya took a big sip.

Shasta set her glass down. “What? A woman can’t
not
date? Seriously, I’m fine with being alone. Just because I’m alone, doesn’t mean I’m lonely.” That sentence rang a bell in her head.

“Yadda, yadda. Don’t give me that crap. We both want a man of our own. I don’t buy into it when women say they don’t need a man. We may not need one, but we sure as hell want one.”

“True. You’re right. I do. But I won’t settle.”

“Me neither.”

Shasta said, “Good. So we’re on the same page.”

“We are. I, for one, am glad that fool Mark who I dated went away and moved on. No more drunken texts. I actually saw him on Facebook. It says he’s in a relationship.”

“You guys are Facebook friends?”

“No. But I can see his posts.”

“Do not go there, Maya. Stay away. You need to block him just so you can’t see him and get tempted.”

“You know I’m nosey.”

“Okay now. Nosey is going to backfire on you.”

“Whatever. I even check Tyson’s page?”

“Tyson Bain.”

“No, Tyson Beckford. Of course Tyson Bain.” Maya smirked.

Shasta did not. “Why?”

“His wife tags him in a bunch of random shit. It’s a trip.”

“Wow. Well while you’re doing all of this snooping, just make sure no one can see what you’re doing.”

“Oh they can’t. Trust me. I check the
View As
link regularly.”

“Good.” Shasta took hold of the remote. “So has the guy from last night even called?”

“Nope. Thank, God. I’m done with men, like I said.” Maya took an even bigger sip of her wine.

“We can’t be done. I know you want kids as much as I do.”

“Hell, I’ll be a stepmom. That is, if he’s not still in love with his ex, like Mr. Jim Bob. But at least I’m trying to meet someone.” She gave a fake cough.

“I will give you that. Yes, you are.”

Maya set her glass down. “See, I never told you this, Shasta, but you know what I think the reason is that you don’t really date that much?”

“Reason?”

“Yes. The reason.”

“Please. Do tell. I’ve got to hear this.” Shasta scooted back.

“I think the reason you don’t date is because, your list is too long.”

“My list?”

“Yes. That list you told me about a few months ago. The one that goes on and on.”

“Maya, it was not that long.”

“It was too. Tell me, what was on it?”

Shasta looked toward the TV. “I don’t remember. It’s not like I have it written down.”

“Well what are some of the things on it? What are your wants?”

Shasta looked up like she was reading from the ceiling. “I don’t know, tall, educated, successful, professional job, well off financially, loves God, protective.”

“Good ones.”

Shasta added as she looked at Maya, “Oh, and funny, honest, devoted, great lover, a gentleman, wants kids. Yes, and wants to get married. That’s something I ask right up front.”

“I see. And?”

She put her index finger to her chin “Likes to travel. Not on drugs, mentally stable, secure in who he is. Works out. Oh, and nice teeth.”

“OMG! And you want all of that in one man?”

Shasta was certain. She went on, saying, “I do. And definitely a man who doesn’t cheat. A man who isn’t hanging out at the strip club, and sitting up in bars all the time with his friends. A man who can cook. Someone who owns his own home would be nice. Someone who’s a good communicator. Someone who loves his mother. And honestly, I like Leo men. I think they’re really confident and strong. Also, Scorpio men are cool. They’re good in the bed.”

“Shit, Shasta! He has to be a Scorpio-ho, too? And born in a certain month? How can any one man be all of that?”

“Maybe not all of that, but most of it. As close to it as possible. Heck, what they’re getting in return is someone who works out, who’s successful, faithful, church going, and who can cook. I’m all of that and more.”

“Maybe. But no man is most of what you just mentioned. Everyone has flaws. Even you.”

“Of course I do.”

“Like what?”

“Having you as a friend.”

Maya pointed to Shasta with her eyes. “Yeah right, very funny. And what else?”

“Maya, you know I told you that Walter said I’m stuck in my ways. And, I’m picky. I’m way too frugal sometimes. You know I’d rather save money than spend it. I go to bed early. I like the room to be cold all the time. I even snore. Shoot. I know I’m not perfect.”

“You snore?”

“Yes. And?”

“And what if you get a man who has all that’s on your list? You’re telling me he has to put up with your snoring ass?”

Shasta gave a devilish look. “Oh, I’ll make it worth his while, now.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll bet you will.”

Shasta nodded. “Sure will.”

“So tell me this. What if he has bad feet?” Maya asked.

Shasta turned up her nose and raised her eyebrows. “Oh no. I cannot do bad feet. Sorry, Charlie.”

“Shasta.” Maya examined her like she was sad.

“I’m being honest.”

“Okay, so let me ask you this. What if he’s black?”

“Black? Now why would you ask me that?”

“Because. I’m just wondering. Have you ever dated black men?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Shasta shrugged. “I just haven’t.”

“Why?”

“No reason. Heck, have you ever dated white men?”

“Dated? No.”

“Oh, so you’ve been with white men?

“I said no.” Maya reached over and ran her fingertip along the rim of the wine glass.

“Okay, so why haven’t you?”

“Because white men don’t approach me.”

“I’ll bet they do.”

Maya crossed her arms as she sat. “I’ll tell you what I can bet on, because I see it with my own eyes, is that black men check you out all the time.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that. But trust and believe, I’m not specifically looking for a certain race.”

“Maybe not consciously, but subconsciously, maybe you’re excluding anyone who’s not white?” Maya sat forward and grabbed the wine bottle from the coffee table, pouring more into her glass.

“I am not. Are you excluding anyone who’s not black?”

“No. You want anymore wine?”

“No, thanks.”

Maya asked, putting the bottle back, “So if men of other races asked us out, we’d both be open, right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Why not?” Maya sat back, taking her glass in hand.

“Maya, I will admit that I grew up in the south. In Augusta, Georgia. There were mainly white kids in my school. But in my case it’s not so much about how I grew up. It’s how my father grew up. Back then, in the 1940’s and 50’s, things were segregated. He let it be known when I was young, that . . . well, that mixing races is something that bothered him. And I’ve had to live with understanding that about him. I didn’t talk to him in detail about it. But, I know his beliefs are deep rooted, and I respect that about him.”

“Okay. So in respecting him, don’t you think he persuaded you to
not
be open to it?”

“No. When I went to college, there were at times more blacks than whites in class. I was fine. I don’t dislike anyone based on race.”

“I think he did persuade you.”

“Maya, my dad was talking about not having kids that are mixed. That was his opinion. I have no problem with it. Mixed kids are beautiful.”