A Hire Love. Candice Dow

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СКАЧАТЬ immediately captivated by her beauty and not to mention her thin-but-thick body. She glowed on the pictures and even more in person. Idle emotions were resurrected in me, as I smiled at her smile and translated her antics. She questioned by batting her long lashes. Her button nose wrinkled when she was uncertain of what to say next. If she doubted what I said, she sucked her cheeks in and pursed her full lips in an adorable juvenile-like manner. Her evenly arched eyebrows rippled when I didn’t respond expeditiously. She was something special and something in her resonated with me. It could have been the humble undertone to her surface-level confidence, but whatever it was I had all the inspiration I needed to fight for this job.

      She propped her elbows on the table and I took note of the large Tiffany bangle that hung around her small wrist and the Cartier watch on the other. The diamond band on her right hand blinded me and I tried to defer my attention from her jewels to focus on her beautiful brown eyes. Her long hair swept back and forth over her shoulders and complemented her contemporary chic attire. She wore jeans and a black top that hung low enough to imagine cleavage, but mostly it was her bare contoured chest that was exposed. A large green Juicy Couture leather bag accentuated her basic outfit. She was the epitome of effortless class.

      I didn’t doubt that she would keep her promise to call. There was just something there. You know that thing when you know the other person finds you just as attractive as you think they are? Still, it was hard for me to pry myself from the seat, because I wanted to find out more about her. She stood when I kissed her hand. Even with high, high heels on, her head met my chest. If she picked me, I planned to reaffirm what she already knew a man should do for a woman.

      Not that I am a slacker by any sorts, but if I were going to hang out with Ms. Fatima and her Cartier watch, I needed to Will-Smith-up my attire. That’s the process whereby you add designer pieces into an average wardrobe. I headed over to Macy’s and splurged with the assumption that I would receive my first check in a couple of weeks.

      After tossing nearly a rack full of clothes over my arm, I looked in the ladies’ department for things I thought would look nice on Fatima. I planned to woo her. She wouldn’t know what hit her when my tenure was done.

      On my way home, I stopped at the florist and bought my mother fresh flowers. It had been awhile since I surprised her. As I continued my previctory celebration, I grabbed some dinner for the only lady that’s down for the cause in my life.

      When I opened the door to the apartment, I called out, “Hey, lil’ mama.”

      She waved to me as she walked from the bedroom talking on the phone. Her strong accent implied that one of her sisters was on the other end. When I handed her the flowers, she said, “This boy. He thinks he can give me flowers for rent.”

      I bent down and kissed her cheek. “Hey, Ma.”

      “What is this?”

      I put our food on paper plates. “Where did you get this roti from, boy?”

      “Your favorite place.”

      “This boy.”

      That was her way of saying she was happy. She continued cackling on the phone as she ate her food. I sat in the living room and studied my script. My mother said, “All you do is read these scripts. When is someone going to hire you? You’re too handsome to be out there looking for work. They should come get you. I know you’re tired of waiting tables.”

      As she spoke to me, her sister talked loudly on the other end. “Your auntie asks, ‘What is wrong? Why you don’t have no woman?’”

      “Women take up too much time and cost too much money.”

      As they found joy in my inability to land an acting role and lack of love, I shook my head. Those voids were in the process of being replaced. I pretended to laugh hysterically, “Ha-ha-ha!”

      “Don’t get cute with me, boy.”

      I stood and headed to my room. When I grabbed the overstuffed shopping bags, she asked, “Anything for me?”

      Speaking into the phone, she said, “I don’t know where he get money from, but he stay sharp as a tack.”

      After I put my new clothes away, I knelt down and prayed. When I got up, my cell phone rang and the caller ID stated PRIVATE CALL.

      I anxiously answered. Fatima’s sweet voice trickled through the line: “Hi, it’s Fatima.”

      I gasped. “Now, I can breathe again.”

      “Not so fast. I’d like to invite you to a second audition.”

      “Give me the time and place and I’ll be there.”

      “I’d like to meet you at Lotus tonight.”

      Lord, you sure answered this one on time. “I’ll be there.”

      When I hung up, I jumped up and sifted through my closet. I was going in for the kill. Everything had to be right. I rushed out for a shape-up on my already freshly cut hair. The barber reshaved my face and I was ready to sweep Fatima off the dance floor.

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