she put up with it because she was ambitious and had her eyes on bigger and better.
It wasn’t only about the money. It was mostly about the challenge of being a thirty-four-year-old black woman making her own way in the lily-white world of finance. For the last year and a half, she had dived headfirst into her career, trying to fill the void Dutch’s death left in her heart. She relived their last time together and her aborted trip to the courtroom over and over. She went through the shoulda, coulda, woulda stages and finally left the what-ifs for the reality of what was. Dutch was gone, and as painful as it had been, Nina had to continue with her life. Her career filled the void.
Until she met Dwight.
He was a mechanic and worked at a local body shop. She met him when her BMW needed body work after a minor fender bender. He was a regular Joe, not into the streets or the game or the fast life. Dwight was a hardworking man. He worked a seventy-two-hour, six-day workweek and watched football on Sundays. He didn’t feel intimidated because she earned more than he did, nor did he try to exploit it and live off her. He viewed their relationship on equal terms and respected her independence.
All that, and he was fine.
Dwight wasn’t tall or muscular, but he did have big, strong hands that Nina loved to hold. He had a brown complexion, clean-cut face, brown eyes with bushy eyebrows, and a charming smile that brightened even the cloudiest day.
Her day was going horribly, and she really needed to hear his voice. She picked up the phone but was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Miss Martin,” her secretary asked before entering.
“Come on in, Susan,” Nina sighed, wishing the day was over.
“You have a visitor. It’s Dwight,” Susan teased.
Nina beamed and hung up the phone. Dwight always seemed to have perfect timing.
“Sure, Susan. Show him in.”
Susan giggled as she closed the door behind her. A few seconds later, Dwight walked in and closed the door behind him. He had taken half a day off and was dressed casually instead of in his work clothes.
“Gimme all the money and nobody’ll get hurt,” he joked, aiming a finger gun at her.
Nina laughed.
“On second thought, forget the money. Fine as you are, I’m takin’ you instead,” he charmed as he sat on the edge of her desk.
“Yeah, right,” Nina replied “Me over all the money in the bank? I don’t think so.”
“Well, maybe not all the money,” he said with a grin as she playfully hit him. “So how’s your day been? Lunch on me?” he offered.
“I wish. I’ve already got a lunch meeting scheduled at two-thirty.”
“So cancel it.”
“If only it was that simple.”
“It is,” he answered, staring her down with his pretty browns. He made her wish it was that simple.
“Anyway, I just dropped by to check on you.”
“So you’re checkin’ on me now?” Nina’s eyebrows arched playfully.
“Damn right, ’cause a brother ain’t takin’ nothing for granted when he’s got a woman like you.”
“Excuuuuuuse me,” she replied.
“You heard me,” he said as he studied her, expressing a bit of his concern. “You okay, baby? You look tired.”
“Long day, I guess.” Nina shrugged.
“Long? It isn’t even noon.”
“I know. This day is going to take forever to end.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got the remedy.”
He walked around the desk and got on one knee in front of her then patted his knee. “Put your feet right here.”
“Dwight, what are you up to?” she asked skeptically.
“What? I can’t give my lady a foot massage without twenty-one questions? Feet please, right here. That’s an order, not a request.”
“Yes, sir!” she said, saluting him jokingly.
Nina kicked off her tan leather pumps and placed her stockinged feet on his knee.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he crooned, using his strong hands to knead and rub the sole of her right foot. “Why keep toes this pretty covered up?”
“Dwight, I’m a bank manager. No one is interested in seeing my toes.” She giggled.
He continued to soothe her spirit as he massaged her foot.
“This is all wrong.”
“What?”
“These stockings. You’re going to have to take them off.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your stockings. I can’t do this right with these stock-”
“Nuh-uh! See, I knew you were up to something,” she said, removing her feet from his knee.
Dwight lifted them back into place.
“No, no, for real. I can’t massage your feet like I could through this material,” he said, lying through his pretty smile.
Nina eyed him, but his gaze melted away her resolve.
“Foot massage, Dwight,” she reminded him.
“Scout’s honor, I’m telling the truth.” He smiled, holding up the two-fingered Boy Scout sign.
“Mmm-hmm,” she doubted, sliding her stockings down from under her blue skirt. “Your ass probably wasn’t even a Scout.”
Dwight chuckled as he slid the stockings all the way off. He began to work his magic, and Nina leaned back in her adjustable chair, relaxed, and closed her eyes. She definitely needed the attention. Her pumps were murder on her feet.
“Feel good?” he questioned.
“Mmm-hmm,” she answered.
The feeling almost made her fall asleep, until she felt his tongue on her ankle, gently kissing along her calf muscle.
“See, I knew it,” she protested, but it felt so damned good. His expert tongue found her most sensitive spots along her inner thigh and made her squirm in the chair. “Dwight, no! Not here,” she said weakly.
“Okay, how about here?”
She felt his breath tickle her flesh. He ran his tongue tantalizingly lightly across her clit.
Nina gripped the arms of the chair. He leaned her back, parting her inner flesh with his thumbs and probed her orally. She couldn’t believe this was happening in her office. She felt like Samantha in
Nina couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled his head up from between her legs and fumbled with his belt.
Dwight helped her by pushing his jeans down around his ankles and entered her all at once. The moment had her on fire as Dwight filled her throbbing walls. He placed her legs on his shoulders and pounded her incessantly. It took all her will not to scream out and alert everyone in the bank of what she was doing in her office. It was a hot and intense quickie. Nina exploded followed by Dwight moments later. They lay slumped in the chair, huffing and puffing.
“Some foot massage,” Nina quipped.
Dwight laughed. “Hey, I’m a mechanic. All we do is body work, baby.”
For the rest of the day, Nina floated on cloud nine, beaming with happiness. The meeting was stress-free, and before she knew it, it was time to go home. She parked her burgundy BMW in front of her newly purchased home in the Jefferson Park section of Elizabeth. It was a modest-sized house that was just the right size for her needs.
She got out of the car just as two young children rode their bikes down the street. She could imagine herself coming home to her own children. Her blossoming emotions could easily place Dwight in the role of the man waiting
