she powered up her laptop later to check her bank account balance online, she noticed that she had a couple of messages from Mr. Good Black Man 2008, and that his online now icon was blinking. She turned off the computer without reading the messages and went to bed.
Chris arrived at Dior’s door at seven o’clock on the nose. Looking quite debonair in a tasteful pair of Rock & Republic jeans, a black sweater, and a pair of black and white Gucci sneakers, plus bearing a box of chocolates, he definitely got the date started off on the right foot. Dior greeted Chris with a kiss on the cheek as she took the chocolates off his hands. She invited him in just so that he wouldn’t have to stand in the cold while she touched up her makeup and put on her coat. He sat on her new sofa and waited patiently for her, commenting, from time to time, on how nice she had decorated since he had been there the day before.
Chris opened the door for Dior and escorted her inside his 2008 Cadillac Escalade. He then walked around the back of the car and got in the driver’s seat. He was being a perfect gentleman. Dior was pleased. The two drove through the busy Saturday night Manhattan traffic, making stops, at Nobu’s for dinner, the Belasco Theatre to preview a play, and Serendipity’s for dessert, finally ending their night on the town at Pacha Nightclub for a drink and a dance.
Choosing to go to various spots was Chris’s way of showing Dior several parts of the city and entertaining her at the same time, and Dior was more than satisfied as that was the most fun she’d had in a long time. At one point she almost suggested that they go to MoBay’s since she still hadn’t made it to the jazz club, but quickly decided against it. Stupid as it sounded she felt like that would be cheating on Mr. Good Black Man 2008 since that was the club he recommended.
Throughout the evening Chris and Dior laughed and conversed and learned a lot about one another. As the time wound down, neither of them wanted the date to end, especially not Dior, who, instead of kissing Chris good-bye once they arrived at her apartment, invited him inside.
Dior was tipsy and still up for a good time, so she figured it wouldn’t hurt to have him come in for an hour or two. Unbelievably attractive, well groomed, well mannered, well rounded, and apparently well off, Chris was everything she could want in a man.
Dior took off her coat, with Chris’s assistance, and hung it in her closet. She took Chris’s leather blazer and hung it up, too. The two sat on the sofa and stared into each other’s eyes for a moment.
“You are so beautiful,” Chris said, eyes glassy from the numerous Grey Goose martinis he’d had at the club.
“It’s funny, I hear that a lot from guys, but hearing it from you, I got all tingly inside just now,” Dior responded with a blush, playfully hitting Chris on his knee.
Just then, Chris leaned in and kissed Dior on her lips. She returned the kiss and the next thing Dior knew, her hand was rubbing Chris’s thigh and his hands were rubbing hers. They were kissing and feeling each other’s body parts and before long, they had made their way into Dior’s bedroom and were breaking in her new bed.
Dior was in fairyland as she hadn’t had any in a long time and Chris lived up to his massive sex appeal. He was as great in bed as he was to look at, maybe greater. When they were done, Dior was wide open. She helped him put on his boots and everything. She even flushed the condom down the toilet for him.
After about a half hour, Chris and Dior parted ways. It was close to five in the morning when she walked him outside. He bent down and kissed her once more, then walked to his car, which was parked up the block. Dior went back inside her apartment and closed her door. She leaned up against it, folding her arms over her chest, and exhaling with a huge smile on her face as if she were in love.
She glanced around at her furnished apartment and thought back on the amazing sex she had just had with the equally amazing man and she patted herself on the back. This was a good week, she thought to herself. The furniture and Chris were both a perfect fit.
Dior was both exhilarated and scared witless as she sat in the conference room. She and two other senior copywriters had made their presentations in front of the company brass the day before, and it was her campaign that the company had decided to go with. Now her insides were doing jumping jacks as she waited to make the presentation in front of her movie idol.
Just deny it was me, she reminded herself over and over again. And maybe he won’t even remember me. I’m sure I’m not the only girl whose chest he’s signed.
Larissa brought a pitcher of ice water and several cups into the room. She also made sure the coffee-and teapots were filled.
“Dior, this is quite impressive. I knew you had it in you,” Barbara said, skimming over the last of the six pages. “And you came up with this in a little over a week, that’s great. And I love this catchphrase, when you only have money left for food, do you pay the driver? That’s funny. I think he’ll go for it. You ready?”
Dior’s mouth was too dry to speak, so she simply nodded. Just then the intercom buzzed.
“Mrs. Roman, we’ve just been notified your guests are on their way up the elevator.”
Barbara stood up quickly. “Dior, you wait here. I’ll meet them at the elevator and bring them in here. Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little queasy.”
“I’m fine,” Dior managed to croak.
Just deny it, just deny it, Dior said to herself over and over again. She stood up as the conference room door swung open.
“Ms. Barker, this is Dior Emerson, one of the bright young stars at Kacey and Patnick. She’s the one who came up with the campaign and will be making the presentation today. Dior, this is Kit Barker. Mr. Pacino’s publicist.”
Dior’s eyes widened. “His publicist? I’m sorry. I was under the impression Mr. Pacino would be here himself.”
Kit Barker chuckled. “No, dear. Mr. Pacino would need stunt doubles to go to every business meeting of his. I’ll be the one you have to convince. Then I’ll present it to Mr. Pacino, and of course he’ll have the final say.”
God, you’re the bomb, Dior said in her head as a feeling of relief came over her. She could do her job now without the fear of being found out and having her reputation scrutinized. She proceeded to give her presentation as if it were a walk in the park. Afterward she walked out of the conference room head held high, and with a huge grin on her face.
“I take it that it went well, then?” Candace Waller asked as she passed her in the hall. “Congrats. I hope they go for it.”
“Thanks,” Dior said airily. Candace had been shooting dagger looks her way since the day before when the company had chosen Dior’s presentation over hers, but even the woman’s attitude couldn’t bring her down at the moment.
“I heard you nailed it, girl!” Gordon said when he stopped by her desk later that afternoon. “Um-hm, you know you’re going to be the new company golden girl if you did.”
Dior beamed up at the man. “Gordon, I really think I did.”
“Uh-huh. And you know Miss Candace is hating on you right now.” The man laughed. “Serves her ass right. She thinks just because she’s a copywriter she can treat everyone else like shit. You know if her presentation had been picked they would have automatically promoted her to senior copywriter, right? I sure would have held up her pay raise, though. We do have some power in Human Resources, you know.”
Now that the presentation was over, Dior had extra time on her hands, so she decided to surf the Net for a while checking out the latest Gucci and Versace fashions, though promising herself she wouldn’t buy anything. After a half hour or so she logged on to MySpace and found seven messages from Mr. Good Black Man 2008 logged in over the last forty-eight hours. Most were simply wondering where she was, and how she was doing, and how the Pacino presentation went. She was getting ready to log off when she saw his online now icon suddenly start blinking.
Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact for a while.