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I decided to post one of her short stories on the blog. Its going to be a 2-part posting. Catch the first half of the story today, read the second half tomorrow. ENJOY! I know you will because I definitely did :)
FYI- It's a lengthy read, but its worth it!
The Way You Love Me
Written by Essence
The Way You Love Me PT. 1
I was naked. Laying on my stomach, flipping through a series of old photographs. Staring at our past. Gazing at our memories. On the other side of the room, she sat in a tall bamboo chair that I bought on our last trip to Asia. The elderly Mandarin man who sold me the chair smiled at us and complimented us on our matching hair. We laughed and teased each other about who started their locks first and which one of us had the idea to reach for the bottle of Cinnamon Brown. As we giggled, I asked the man to snap a picture and capture the moment. We look beautiful with our matching hair and our beautiful new chair. Looking at the picture, the moment appeared perfectly clear in my mind. A warm smile spread across my face.
"What are you smiling about babe?"
I'd been lost in the moment and completely forgot that I had a cheesy grin on my face. When I looked up, she was pulling on her t-shirt and adjusting the top of her underwear. I had to stop and admire her. Jordan certainly had a beautiful figure. Her legs were golden and toned, arms muscular but her body was small-framed and her face very androgynous. Her strong jaw line and surprisingly feminine features gave her the look of a caramel version of Jenny Shimizu. I watched as she pulled her legs into a pair of jeans and reached for a sweater that she'd thrown over a chair last night.
Hmm.. if she just moved in she wouldn't have to put her things on her chair, on the floor, on the dresser, in the living room, in the dining room, and basically anywhere that there's space. But asking Jordan about moving in together is pointless. I might as well turn on her iPod, ask her to put her headphones on and crank the volume up because all she's doing is tuning me out anyway. Trust me, we've been down this road before. Dating since 2005 and we've never even shared the same living space. She says its because things are already great between us and she doesn't want to ruin it. Bullshit. You can travel the world with me, run a business with me, but you can't live with me? Something's wrong with that picture. But a long time ago I decided not to sweat the small things in life. A brush with death can make you do that. Jordan is a good woman, a good woman who loves me. So I decide not to think about our living arrangement anymore. I just want to watch her put on her sweater.
"Just looking at the pictures we took in Asia last year. You're sitting in the chair."
"Oh yeah. That was a great trip. Next time we do Asia, we're hitting Dubai".
Dubai? Seriously? Dubai is one of the richest country's in the world and even though we're doing well, we can't afford to spend too much too fast. Well, I know I can't. We have joint banking accounts but I also set up separate accounts so we can each have our own money to play with. Hell, we work hard. Jordan's been my manager for seven years, when I just starting out as a freelance writer. I didn't even know that I needed a manager. But when magazines started getting interested in both my looks and my writing, I had to get someone to help me handle the rush of bookings for fashion shows, album release parties and club openings. It surprised me that a Black female writer could become the new It girl in today's society which revolved around reality TV stars and anorexic party girls.
I met Jordan at a small gathering thrown by my friend Jade. Jade was going through a tough custody battle with her ex-partner and had turned her new drinking problem into fun for all. It was the average after work party. Lots of women in khakis and business suits, power suits and colorful dresses. Usually I loved these types of parties. There's just something sexy about a room full of beautiful, black and employed women. But this particular day, I wasn't in the best of moods. I'd just been fired from my job as Public Relations director of GIANT Magazine because I kept missing days due to my budding side career. My friends told me that it didn't matter since I was becoming quite popular with the media but I loved my job. I didn't want my co-workers to think I was unprofessional and I knew Smokey would be particularly disappointed. What could I do except drown my sorrows in round after round of shots with Jade. Before I knew it, we were all acting as if we were 18 and had broken into our parent's liquor cabinet. By the time I reached for my umpteenth shot, my hair was around my shoulders and the first three buttons on my shirt were undone. I threw my head back and let the cold vodka slide down my throat. In the process, I spilled some alcohol on my new vintage Diana Von Furstenberg dress. I'd spent half of my rent money on the dress after falling in love with it while shopping at my amazing friend Diana's consignment shop. But in my drunken stupor, I damn sure didn't care.
The Way You Love Me PT. 2
I was struggling to open a bottle of champagne when I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me and take both the bottle and corkscrew from my hands. I jerked my head around. I just knew that a stranger wouldn't be bold enough to invade my space like that. And just as I started to open my big mouth, I looked into the warmest brown eyes ever. My words got stuck in my throat as she unscrewed the bottle, spraying the sparkling bubbles into the air.
She poured a glass and handed it over. "Now, let this one be your last. I'd hate for you to get another stain on that beautiful dress. Diana isn't cheap, ya know?"
I sipped the glass slowly while I thought. I tried to avert my eyes but she was so incredibly sexy and one thing I've never been able to resist is a woman who knows her designer labels. However, from her appearance, she looked like a woman who knew her way around Bloomingdales. Kenneth Cole loafers. Ralph Lauren blazer. A sleek turquoise tie. Sexy...
"Thanks. I'm usually not this messy", I said as I tried to hide both my embarrassment and attraction. I wanted to stop fidgeting but she made me nervous. I was hoping that Jade would stumble over and interrupt us when she saw the freshly opened bottle in my hand but she just waved and kept flirting with her exotic looking next door neighbor.
She laughed and brushed my hair down a little. It wasn't a harsh laugh or a judgmental laugh. It was a comforting laugh. The type of laugh shared between friends in the corner of a crowded party. That's when I started to relax... and stopped holding in my breath to make myself look thinner.
"Aww, you'll be ok. But no more drinking. We can't have you dancing on the bar. By the way, my name is Jordan."
"It's great to meet you Jordan, I'm Jaisun".
We shook hands and smiled at each other. She was determined to sober me up so we spent the rest of the party standing on the balcony, talking and drinking coffee. She told me that she was a native New Yorker and an only child who'd recently earned her MBA from American University. I told Jordan that I'd graduated from Hampton University years ago and lucked into an entry level position at GIANT. I kept performing well and caught the eye and ear of the magazine's former editor in chief, Smokey D. Fontaine. Smokey and I became the new Andy and Edie...famous for just being famous. Eventually I rose to the PR position that I loved so much and after a few years, writing started to call to me. I'd always loved writing. A few articles here and there turned into a columns in Cosmopolitan and Detail Magazine. I told her that I didn't understand how three fashion spreads had turned me into an overall sensation. But I guess when those magazines are Essence, Vogue and Ebony, success should be expected. When I shared my feelings of becoming quickly overwhelming by my schedule, she offered to become my manager.
Of course, I had to be hesitant. I thought Jordan was a nice woman. Pretty smile. Beautiful face. But I wasn't convinced that it was enough to sign on the dotted line. A few weeks later, she faxed a resume to me. We went on a couple business lunches. Two months later, it was official.
After our business arrangement began, we made an unspoken decision to be friends. Neither of us liked the idea of mixing business with pleasure. Jordan became my manager, my confidante, and my best friend. We'd hit industry parties and then spend hours in IHOP afterwards talking about our ridiculous love lives. We each had bad luck with women. I settled into a forced celibacy while Jordan jumped from woman to woman. She never failed to call me after her failed dates to tell me about the women who threw themselves shamelessly at her. I'd always laugh but inside I felt that Jordan intentionally picked the wrong women. Anyone could see that a woman with her intelligence could do better than video vixens and drama queens. But I just kept my mouth shut and listened to her as she rambled off their never-ending list of faults.
We were friends for three years before things started to change between us. I'd recently broken up with Heather, a newly signed Def Jam artist who preferred to be referred to as DJ Hazard at all times...even in bed. After she pushed me out of bed for forgetting to call her by her stage name, I knew I'd had enough. When Jordan called me one crisp Autumn day to tell me that she'd just dumped Kai, her newest model girlfriend, and was coming over for a talk, I knew what to do. I made two cups of apple cider, laid out a bowl of popcorn, grabbed our favorite big fluffy blanket and popped in Love Jones. Jordan and I both had a deep infatuation with Nia Long and watched the movie whenever we were having a bad day. I was lighting incense when she knocked on the door.
When I opened the door, I expected her to be sad but she greeted me with the same Jordan smile.
"Aww, did the models hurt my pookie? Come here sweetie!", I said pulling her into my arms for a friendly embrace. She nuzzled her head into my chest for a second and then exploded into a fit of laughter.
"Jaisun, stop. You know me better than that. There's a million more women out there and all they all want me". We laughed some more and Jordan shrugged off her hoodie and threw it on a chair. "I'm not trippin over no female. Especially not Kai. When she started asking for a key, I knew it was time for her to go".
She flopped down next to me. "But that's old news. How was your day?"
I couldn't believe it. Jordan had just broken up with her woman and yet she was acting nonchalant and easy-going as always. It didn't even bother her. For some reason, the fact that she could easily dismiss women from her life without a second thought didn't sit well with me.
"How was my day? Girl, have you even called Kai? Do you know how she's doing? Do you even know if she's okay?"
Jordan stopped reaching for the popcorn long enough to stare at me in shock. "What the hell? Why do you care Jaisun? You said she looked like her favorite position was leaning over a toilet seat!"
I walked away shouting, "You're right! I don't care! I could care fucking less!" I went into my room and buried my face into a pillow. She's right, I thought. What am I mad about? Jordan would never hurt me. Jordan loves me. I love Jordan.
With that thought, I sat straight up. "Oh shit, I love Jordan", I said aloud. I covered my mouth in disbelief, unable to handle what I'd just said. I couldn't love Jordan. She was my friend. Jordan was the person who washed my car when I was too lazy to. She held my hand at each of my grandparent's funeral. Fought with me when I claimed to be too tired to work out. Jordan was my best friend.
I heard her come into the room. At first she hesitated to come closer but eventually she sat on the edge of bed.
"Jai? Are you crying? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."
I shifted my weight so she couldn't my face. "I'll be fine Jordy. Just give me a minute".
I turned to stand up and there they were again, those same eyes. Before I could stop myself, I leaned over and kissed her. The first kiss was soft and cautious. Jordan paused for a second and inched back. Then she pressed her lips harder and took hold of the back of my neck. I'd always imagined what it would be like to kiss her. I thought her lips would be hard and pictured her as being an aggressive kisser. But she wasn't. She held me as if I was a precious object, something fragile and delicate. She didn't rush. Her hands and lips explored me with ease, unbuttoning my shirt and sliding it off my shoulders. Her lips wandered from my lips to my neck to my shoulders and back again. We sat kissing for nearly fifteen minutes before she abruptly pulled away.
I thought she would fall off the damn couch. She struggled to slide backwards but decided to stand.
"Jaisun, we can't. We just...can't. You're my friend. My homie. My client! We cannot fucking do this." She grabbed her coat and moved towards the door. "Look, just call me later. I have some shit to take care of".
I quickly buttoned my shirt and tried to beat her door. I kicked a basketball out of the way and winched in pain.
"Ouch! Damn it! Jordan, stop!" I put my back against the door and looked into her eyes. "Don't run away from this. You know that we have something. We have an amazing connection. You're my best friend. I didn't want to fall in love with you but I did".
"Oh shit, are you serious Jaisun? I'm out. I can't handle this shit".
Damn, I thought. I was so sure that Jordan felt the same way. I knew she did. I just couldn't let her walk away from something that felt so right. I knew I needed to try to a different approach and fast.
"So you're just gonna act like a little bitch? Then go ahead. Walk out. Go back to the bucket headed bitches that keep wasting your time. If you're too stupid to recognize a good thing, then fuck it".
The look on her face was priceless. It was a mixture of shock, amusement and stubbornness. "Oh shit, you wanna be tough huh? Ok, be tough now!" Jordan grabbed me and start tickling me. I knew that she wouldn't be able to resist my tough girl act. I begged and pleaded but she wouldn't let me go. Tears were streaming down my face when she finally relaxed her grip. My head was in her lap and as my laughter died off, Jordan shifted her weight to cradle me and stared at me. She had never looked at me with so much intensity.
"I love you Jaisun."
We sat like for a long time. Staring into each other's eyes. Smiling for no reason. We talked for a long time after that. She told me about the times her heartbeat had quickened when she walked in while I was in my bra and panties. The moments when she'd wanted to caress my face while I was sleeping. I couldn't help but to blush. I never knew she'd felt that way. I'd just taken a chance in the moment. But Jordan reassured me that her feelings were real.
"Come here babe...". She lifted me up, clutching the side of my waist. Cradling the side of my head, Jordan began to slowly kiss me. For a while I had absolutely no control over my body. I didn't feel my clothes peeling off. I couldn't feel my legs widening. But all of those things were happening. I saw an entirely new side of Jordan. She wasn't playful and jovial. She was intense and aggressive and sexy. She knew exactly how and where to kiss me. It was as if her body just talked to mine. Awakening something within me. I'd never felt that way about any woman. Sex had always been fun but no woman had actually taken the time to understand my body. To dig deep within its cervices and discover entirely new places of joy. Jordan showed me that she loved me through the way that she made love to me. I know it sounds weird but its true. Only a person who truly loves you would take their time pleasing you, making sure that you are left entirely satisfied whenever your bodies cease to connect.
When we finished making love, we laid on the floor. I was breathless. My legs were quivering. Most importantly, I needed a glass of water. I grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around me. My ankle bracelets jingled as I walked to the kitchen sink.
I had just taken my first sip of water when Jordan said, "Let's go to Monte Carlo".
I swallowed hard and said, "Monte Carlo?! For what?"
Jordan walked over and grabbed me by the waist. She pulled me close and said," Because we can. Let's just hope on a plane and go".
And we did. We went to Monte Carlo. I almost didn't believe her until Jordan picked up the phone and called our travel agent. We held hands and sipped green tea on the plane. We never drank during our flights. Jordan loved feeling as if she was floating above everything. She wanted to enjoy the sensation. When we landed, I went to the baggage claim and Jordan rented the car. I don't know why I thought that letting her pick the car was a good idea. I couldn't miss the yellow Porsche Boxster S as I walked through the terminals exit.
"Jordan, what the hell?! This is too expensive!"
She looked up and flashed me a wicked smile. "Its about time that we start enjoying this money". I climbed into beside her after throwing the luggage into the rear. We turned up the music, put on our shades and sped off.
Before we hit the first curve, Jordan turned to me and said, "Jai, how fast do you think this car can go?" I gripped the sides of the seat as Jordan sped around the sharp curves. A part of me was terribly afraid but another part of me knew that I could trust Jordan with my life.
We rented a villa. It wasn't as grand as the nearby mansions of Madonna and Tina Turner but it was perfect for us. Surrounded by an exotic garden and shaded by trees, it gave us just the right amount of privacy. We spent days taking walks along the seemingly endless shore and nights tangled in crisp white sheets. The locals embraced us. The women taught me the endless amount of uses for olive oil. The man laid their jackets over puddles for us. They smiled as we ate off each other's forks and played together in the rain. The people there didn't just accept me or her, they accepted us. Jordan loved going to the casinos. We'd get dressed up and go drop thousands of dollars on blackjack. I'd dress as a Hollywood starlet. Lots of red lipstick and tight fitting dresses. Jordan would wear a tuxedo with dark Prada shades. She always did have a thing for James Bond. We gambled and drank and ate and fucked for a month straight. Completely abandoned our lives. Created a space for only us. But after a while, Jordan started feeling that itch again. Her Type A personality wouldn't allow her to remain away from business for long.
One day she came to me and asked me, "Don't you miss it Jaisun?"
I rolled over on the grass and said, "Miss what?" I knew what she was talking about. I knew she missed being busy. She missed the boardroom and the studios and the clubs.
"You know what I mean. Baby, we gotta go back. We have the opportunity to live an amazing life. Let's do that."
The next day we left.
That was three years and eleven months ago. We came back to New York. Came back to our separate apartments. Just as easily as we slipped into our friendship, we blended into being a couple. The time spent in Monte Carlo gave us a closeness that other couples envied. We could be in a room full of people and still act as if we were totally secluded. Other women sighed quietly to themselves when they saw us sitting alone, whispering to one another. Her co-workers still look jealous when I emerge from her office after a two hour "lunch meeting", looking cool and collected. A small hint of sex in the air but our faces didn’t show that I’d just been bent over her desk. We have a true love, built on friendship and respect. I would never disrespect Jordan and I know she’d never disrespect me. There have been times when other women have tried their luck but they were quickly put in their place. I never had to worry about indiscretion and if she cheated, I never knew. But we've been together for four years and have never lived together. Jordan says I only harp on that issue because we don't have any other problems.
And she's right. We don't.
Well, that statement isn't entirely true.
Tune in tomorrow for part 2!!
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