Melina sat at the head of the small conference room table. She waited patiently for everyone to dispense with the early morning chatter, grab their cups of coffee or tea, select from the assortment of Krispy Kreme doughnuts and danishes, and take a seat. She almost felt like a school teacher, using the weapon of silence to wear down the kids into submission.
When everyone was seated, Melina began the bi-monthly meeting.
“Good morning everyone. We have a couple of guests with us for this morning’s meeting. I’m sure everyone knows Tawana Jackson and Gary Bullwhite. They are the Director of Legal Recruiting and Manager of the
“Excuse me Melina. Are we still having the conference call with the D.C. office?” Marjorie Schramm, the Manager of Secretarial Services, was a woman known for her rather abrasive nature, bad sense of timing and short temper. She interrupted Melina for the first of many times during the meeting.
Slightly annoyed, Melina masked her feelings like the consummate professional that she was. She did, however, reprimand Marjorie in the most subtle of ways. “Actually, I was about to discuss that, Marjorie, so if you would please allow me the courtesy of completing my opening remarks before any comments or questions are posed, perhaps we can get through this meeting just a little bit faster than we would otherwise.” Marjorie turned three shades of crimson and rearranged papers in front of her that didn’t need rearranging. Melina couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw Marjorie mouth ‘bitch’ as she lowered her head. Melina made a mental note to kick her ass in her dreams.
Questions and answers relating to business matters were flung back and forth for nearly seventy-five minutes. What band would be playing at the firm Christmas party? The secretaries would like to know if they can earn battle pay when dealing with an obnoxious attorney? Where will the Spring Fling be held next year? Melina was getting bored, and it showed ever so slightly in her far away look. She pushed her chair back from the table and got up to get another cup of coffee and a sugar infused doughnut to give her a boost of energy.
At meeting’s end, Melina addressed the room with brief closing remarks. “…And if that’s all for this week, this meeting is over. I’ll see everyone in two weeks. That meeting will start at ten o’clock instead of nine-thirty due to scheduling difficulties. Please let Jodi know if you’ll be able to attend. Have a good morning.” Melina began to push her chair back from the table when she was stopped by a long manicured hand on her shoulder. She stopped in mid-push. Jodi’s french tipped fingernails rested on Melina’s left shoulder. Melina could smell the soft aroma of her perfume before she knew it was her.
“Before everyone leaves,” Jodi began, looking like she was about to burst a blood vessel in her head, “I have a quick announcement to make.”
Melina looked puzzled. An announcement? I didn’t have anything about a special announcement on the agenda. I know this girl has lost her damn mind if she thinks—
“I just wanted to share a bit of good news with everyone,” Jodi interrupted Melina’s thought stream.
Melina stared up at Jodi with a look just as puzzled as everyone else’s. All activity in the tiny room ceased as they waited for Jodi to continue.
Jodi’s face flushed and she smiled demurely. Then she held her left hand out dramatically for all to see, as if there were a spotlight shining down on her. Justin from accounting was the first to see it, and he squawked like a mangled bird and clapped like he was on the sidelines at a golf tournament. “Oh my Gawd!” he exclaimed with far too much enthusiasm to be bottled up inside of one person.
One by one, they marveled at the platinum 1-carat prong set princess cut center diamond engagement ring with invisible set princess cut diamonds on the sides. The ring was absolutely gorgeous in it’s brilliance. It sparkled like a beacon in the night. Melina didn’t know how she was able to miss the glare from the gigantic rock on Jodi’s finger earlier that morning. Melina’s heart sank heavier than a lead weight. She was so self-absorbed in her own issues that she couldn’t show even the slightest bit of genuine happiness for Jodi. She made a weak attempt at congratulations—wimpy hug, dead pan ‘I’m so happy for you’ delivered with no zest whatsoever, air kisses and all. She was running on auto pilot. Melina Rose was jealous.
The rest of Melina’s day was one big blur, with one activity melting into the next with no distinguishing beginning or end. She conducted four interviews that afternoon and could not remember the names, faces, or any distinguishing traits about any of the applicants. She literally could not wait for the rigors of the work day to be over and done with. So much so that she cancelled her last two interviews, cleared her calendar for the remainder of the afternoon, called the day a wash and telephoned Juan at three-twenty and told him she would be at Café Tu Tu Tango in under twenty-five minutes.
* * *
Nineteen minutes later, after hitting speeds that surely would have landed her in jail had she been caught, and demonstrating some rather impressive NASCAR-like moves on the streets of Atlanta, Melina was sitting at Café Tu Tu Tango’s bar and had already charmed the bartender into making a special CoCo Cabanatini martini that wasn’t on the drink menu by the time Juan came in swathed in mounds of fabric wrapped flamboyantly about his neck.
“Hey baby doll,” he said as he swept in the door in one fluid motion. More than half of the bar patrons gawked at Juan like he was some infamous celebrity slumming with the little people, while the other half gawked at him like he had escaped from
“Bitches,” he whispered in Melina’s ear as he took the seat next to her and began to unfurl the voluminous material from around his neck. “They all wish they were as fabulous as moi. Haven’t they heard? When I was born, the mold was forever broken.”
“Aren’t we the swaddled diva today.”
“It creates an interesting décolletage, don’t you think?”
The bartender placed a napkin down in front of Melina on the bar and was about to put her drink in front of her when she plucked it out of his hovering hand and took a sip before he could fully set it down. “You say interesting, I say it screams La Cage aux Folles.”
Juan stuck his tongue out at Melina. “Jealousy and envy is so damn green on you, baby doll.”
Melina nudged him with her elbow.
“Barkeep, a cocktail please.” The bartender, who, like Juan, also played for the other team, grinned at him, flashing damn near every perfect tooth set in his skull. “What’ll you have, gorgeous?”
“Hmmmmm,” Juan placed his right hand under his chin, tapped the side of his face with his index finger, and pretended to contemplate his choices. “Oh hell, I’ll have what this bitch is having,” he smirked as he tilted his head in Melina’s direction.
Melina nudged him again.
“Life just isn’t fair,” Melina said as she lifted the glass to her mouth and took in more than her mouth would allow. Her cheeks bowed out as she swallowed once, then twice, to finish the mouthful.
“Who said it had to be? Hell, one look at me ought to tell you that.”
“Yeah, but you’re fine living in the skin that you’re in.”
“And you aren’t?” Juan hiked his right eyebrow up so high on his forehead it looked like a rising caterpillar.
Melina slapped his arm playfully. “Hell, you know what I’m talking about. If I’m not proud about anything else in the world, I’m damn proud to be wrapped in this beautiful black skin. I’m talking ‘bout where I’m at in life.”
Juan raised his hand in a closed fist. “Okay let’s take stock of what you have.” With each point he made, he slowly extended a finger to place emphasis on his line of reasoning. “Number one. You’re intelligent and attractive.”
“Can’t argue with you there.”
“Number two, notwithstanding your false modesty, you got it goin’ on. Number three, you have a great career that, despite the times them bitches get on your last nerve, you love.”
Melina rolled her eyes. She did enjoy what she did for a living. Truth be told, she did love it. Melina never talked about her livelihood as merely a job—perhaps with the exception of the occasional Monday, which was increasingly turning out to be more of a chore that she did not want to endure—but rather referred to it proudly as her career of choice, and not just something that she just fell into purely by accident. It was what she wanted to be doing until she just couldn’t do anymore. And she knew she was good at what she did.
“Number four, you got bank. Why you think I keep running to you and hitting you up for cash?”
Melina rolled her eyes.
“Number four, you—”
“You already said that.” Her speech was already beginning to slur.
“Said what? What’d I say?”
“Number four, fool.”
“Damn, and I haven’t even had my first cocktail. Okay, number five, I know your whole thing isn’t about trying to keep up with the Joneses, but you have enough shit of your own for the Joneses to envy, baby doll. Number six—”
Melina held her arms up in mock surrender. “Alright. Enough with the list. Point taken. But you know what, that doesn’t matter much if I’m not happy where it matters.”
“And that would be?” His right eyebrow went up again.
“Stop doing that! You look like Cruella DeVil!”
“Oh, how you flatter.”
“Seriously though. You know what I’m talking about. All around me, people are happy and in love and tip-toeing through the tulips and shit. So I’m already trying to deal with not having any iota of this, when all of a sudden, Jodi’s damn near ready to burst out in a song and dance number at this morning’s meeting because her ass got engaged. Do you know how small and unloved I felt?” Tears were threatening to flow again, but Melina silently dared them to make their presence known. “And now I have to watch her flit around the office for God knows how long like she’s walking on a damn cloud.”
Juan sighed and patted his hands in his lap, then swung to the right on his chair to face Melina. He grabbed her hands in his and looked her directly in her eyes. “Baby doll, shit happens. There’s no getting around that. But it doesn’t mean that it’s gonna hit the fan all the time, twenty-four seven. The man that is meant for you just hasn’t made himself known yet.”
Melina’s eyes averted his. She loved Juan like a brother, but she did not want him to see the true depth of emotions that lay suppressed just beyond the surface. She prided herself on allowing only so much of her true being to be disclosed to others and, even to those closest to her, she was still a carefully veiled enigma.
“Juan, I’m so sick and tired of dealing with the no good men out here. I’ve been through a litany of men who were nothing but poison to my system. Roderick, Steve, Damien—the list goes on.”
Juan cocked his head to the side. “And you know what all of these men have in common?” He planted one hand on his hip like he dared Melina to even take a stab at answering.
“Yeah . . . they’re men,” she said sarcastically. She pulled her remaining hand away from Juan’s grasp and reached for her martini glass which was almost empty.
Juan reached for her hand again and pushed it down. “Wait a sec. You need to be clear headed for this cause I don’t want your ass telling me later you did something under duress.”
Puzzled, Melina opened her mouth. “Duress? What the—”
“Look, forget that right now. You know what they have in common?” Melina looked at him blankly but didn’t answer. “You let them come to you.” It was a simple statement, one which Juan believed would have sunk deep into Melina’s psyche almost immediately, yet she continued to stare at him like his head was sprouting a cottage cheese afro. “Come on woman, think. Think! You’ve never allowed yourself to be the one to approach a man, to choose a man, to say ‘Hey, I’d like to get to know you.’ You’ve fallen back on those old granny ways and always thought that a man has to be the one to make the move.” Juan was on a roll. The bartender placed his drink in front of him on the bar, but he barely noticed. And he never even noticed the sly wink and telephone number surreptitiously scrawled on the napkin either. It didn’t matter. Juan was on a roll.
“It’s time you took control of your love life, girl. It’s time you started making the choices.”
“Oh yeah, right. So I’m supposed to go out there, club some poor man over the head and drag him back by the scruff of his neck to my fashionably appointed cave now?” Melina huffed.
Whap! Juan clunked Melina on her forehead with the heel of his hand. Too stunned to even be mad, she started laughing. “And what the hell was that for?!?”
“Because, you’re not thinking. You go clubbing. You let a man make the first move. You go to the mall. You let a man make the first move. You wander around damn Publix on a Saturday morning looking like something that the cat dragged in and you see a fine ass man in the frozen food section and what do you do? You still let a man make the first move. Haven’t you ever wanted to make the first move first?”
As simple as the solution seemed, Melina had never given any thought to the notion. Men approached women, not the other way around. Except for the Sadie Hawkins dance, she had never in her life ever even asked a man out for coffee, let alone a real “take-a-shower-put-on-makeup-wash-my-coochie-just-in-case date. What if she had worked up the nerve to purse her lips to ask him and he turned around and gave her an emphatically shouted ‘No’? Then she would have to take the dreaded walk of shame back to her cave with the crush of humiliation weighing heavily upon her. Her fear of rejection was profoundly paralyzing.
She stammered, and not because of the CoCo Cabanatini martini. “Well, uh, yeah, sometimes. But I can’t do that, Juan. That’s just not me.” Melina looked liked she was nearly shocked out of her skin.
“Girl, get that look off your face. It’s not like I just told you to go dry hump the leader of the free world.” Juan laughed as his own joke. Melina merely frowned. “Look, there’s this new trend in dating. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It’s called internet dating. Say it with me now. In-ter-net dat-ing.”
Melina looked even more horrified than before. “Internet dating?!?” she shrieked. “Have you lost your damn mind? Do you know how—”
“You may wanna shout just a little bit louder. I don’t think our troops heard you in
“Do you know how desperate you have to be to resort to internet dating?” Melina whispered. It’s official, she thought. Juan has finally lost his mind. Ain’t no way in hell I’m gonna put myself out there like that. Damn internet dating. He must be crazy. All she had ever heard about internet dating stories was disaster. And just her luck, she would hook up with an insane panty sniffing moron who was far too fixated on his mother, had probably killed his last five dates, and chopped up their bodies and buried the pieces in his basement floor. “Juan, I, I just don’t even know what to say. That’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard.”
Juan sucked his teeth, rolled his eyes, and took one long swallow of his martini. He had his work cut out for him.