The Black & The White (14 page)

I laughed and looked over at
Jessica.

“
Alright, I’m in a better
mood. Fuck Dover! I need a man like
that
,” Jessica said pointing to
M.D.’s black American Express credit card, a card famous for not
having a credit limit, a card with it’s own name. The “Centurion
Card.”

“
Ladies, let’s go spotting
for men! Any boys in the mirror?”

I looked at the side mirror and saw a
girl in the passenger seat of the car behind us. I adjusted the
rearview mirror so I was able to see the cars behind us. “Boy
check, negative. Just chicks. Sorry, Jess.”

“
Ugh!” Jessica then started
singing. “Going on a man hunt. I don’t care. Got my pills. Condoms
too. Going on a man hunt. I don’t care. Got my pills. Condoms too.”
Her fist was interchangeably extending above her head. It reminded
me of an awful aerobics video from the Nineteen
Eighties.

Kim and I chanted along with
her.

“
Okay, okay, okay. Dude
check,” Kim said excitedly.

I looked in the rearview mirror
again.

“
Two girls still behind.
Dudes behind them, I think.”

Jessica stood up and looked behind us.
“Confirmed. Dudes. Passable but not stellar.” We all sighed in
disappointment.

“
Bad luck, Ladies. Let’s
just get to the beach,” Kim said.

Cars lined the sides of the roads
leading into the parking lot of Southhampton Beach. Every car had
an orange parking violation stub on its windshield. Kim took one of
the tickets from the car ahead of us and inserted it under our
windshield wiper. “Just in case,” she said.

As we strolled onto the beach, Kim was
still trying to determine whether her new watch suited her wrist,
raising it up to see the sparkle of the gold in the sun.

“
Kimmie!” someone yelled. It
was Jeffrey.

Kim shrieked and ran to him, jumping
up and wrapping her legs around his body. Jeffrey nearly dropped
his mountain bike.

“
I like this hello,” Jeffrey
said. “Hi, there, Isabelle. You haven’t called me.”

I had forgotten just how attractive he
was. With a tan, he was that much more attractive. “Sorry, I didn’t
think you were serious.”

He was too old for me, I thought,
wishing that he wasn’t. Jeffrey had a large, friendly smile, the
smile that turned up at the ends and showed his impeccably straight
teeth. Even with his clothes, it was clear that he had the body of
a biker—long, lean, and toned. His green eyes and short, dark curly
hair against an olive complexion made me think he was Italian.
Later, I learned he was part Portuguese and part American, from
Hawaii but grew up in Boston.

“
Kim, make this girl call
me. What are you guys up to tonight?”

“
Not sure, but hang with us
on the beach. We need cute guys around. Be our wing man for Jessica
here.” Kim smiled at Jessica, teasing her. Jessica rolled her
eyes.

“
Alright, let me get you
ladies some water so you stay hydrated. I’ll find you. Try to stay
on the far end of the beach. Less crowded.” He looked at me. “You
want anything else, Isabelle? Your skinny body looks like it could
use some food.”

“
Ooooh. Someone has a crush
on you,” Kim said when he left. “I’d date him if I were you,
Isabelle. He’s super cute and super nice.”

“
Not my type,” Jessica
pronounced.

Kim and I ignored her.

“
Then why didn’t you ever
date him, Kim?” I asked.

“
Because we’re too
different,” Kim replied. “Long story. Oil and vinegar.”

“
Whatever. He’s not that
hot,” Jessica said. “He’s probably gay. Did you see his eyebrows?
You can’t have perfect manicured eyebrows like that and not be
gay.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “You’re so
grumpy,” I said.

“
Whatever. You’re a skinny
bitch,” Jessica said to me. I glared at Jessica and shook my head
thinking, I may be a bitch, but you can’t even get a guy to like
you, loser.

Jessica noticed my glare and mouthed,
“Fuck off.” I read her lips and smiled, which made her even more
upset.

Jeffrey soon returned with several
bottles of cold water and a sausage burger. “Here you go.” He
handed each of us a small bottle of water.

The more we talked, the more charming
Jeffrey became. I could see that Kim was encouraging the
relationship. “Isabelle is so great, isn’t she?” she proclaimed.
She gave me a kiss on my cheek. I tried to smile at Kim’s gesture,
but a drop of food had fallen from my mouth. We all laughed. I was
embarrassed at my clumsiness.

Kim seemed more animated than usual. I
was sure it was because of her new watch.

“
Yes, she is. So don’t
corrupt her,” Jeffrey replied, nudging Kim slightly.

“
Moi? Too late. She’s well
on her way and doesn’t even know it.” Kim had picked up the pieces
of sausage roll I had picked apart. “And look at this. How can you
not love someone with eating habits like this?”

“
What? I only like the
sausage part,” I explained.

I smiled at Kim. I didn’t mind a bit
of corruption. In fact, I had wanted it. I excused myself and made
my way to the row of portable toilets near the parking
lot.

When I came back, I caught Kim’s last
sentence. “Want me to spy for you?”

Jeffrey laughed. “Oh, hi, Isabelle,”
he said.

It was obvious Kim had been talking
about me. She quickly changed the subject by inviting Jeffrey to
M.D.’s house for the barbeque.

“
You should come. You know
where it is, right?” Kim asked.

Jeffrey glanced over at
Kim.

“
Yes, Kim,” Jeffrey
answered, sounding slightly annoyed.

“
Yes, please come. I don’t
really know anyone there and it would be nice to see a familiar
face,” I added.

“
Bring a friend for me,”
Jessica said with her face buried into her towel, catching some
sun. I had nearly forgotten she was still around.

• • •

Jeffrey arrived at eight that night.
M.D.’s driveway was like a luxury car show. Jeffrey’s car stood out
as unpretentious in the sea of opulence.

I watched him walk into the beach
house. M.D.’s friends seemed to be staring at him strangely. He
waved at several people, none of whom returned the gesture. I found
it utterly rude. M.D. stood up and excused himself into the kitchen
when he saw Jeffrey arrive, dragging Kim by her arm. I felt bad for
having invited someone who was obviously not welcome. I wondered
what the problem was.

Jeffrey asked if he could open the
bottle of wine that he had brought. “One bottle for the host, and
one bottle for the guest,” he said, leaving a bottle on a side
table. “For Kim.” Jeffrey then picked up two plastic cups stacked
on the living room table. “Let’s take these classy mugs and sit
outside. It’s nice to be somewhere quiet and listen to nature. Are
you up for that, Isabelle?”

Jeffrey led me past the living room
and through the white French doors that led to the outside pool
deck.

“
I still can’t figure my way
around this place,” I said.

“
It’s pretty big,” he
said.

The spotlight from the house reflected
against the water of the pool. Jeffrey and I stared at the water in
silence. The night was clear apart from a lone white cloud drifting
across the sky. The moon was a sliver. I looked at the stars and
wished I knew more about the constellations.

“
So, why are you in
finance?” he suddenly asked. “You just seem so different from those
people inside.” Jeffrey pointed to the house.

I didn’t have the answer. “I don’t
know. I guess the same reason everyone else gets into finance.
Money, I guess,” I replied.

“
Choose what you enjoy,”
Jeffrey said. “That’s my philosophy. Money will come.” I looked at
him quizzically. “I mean, I think one should do what makes one
happy.”

His comment seemed overly
philosophical at the time. Money was the reason I, much like my
peers, had come, to Wall Street. I couldn’t understand what was
wrong with that. Granted, I wasn’t happy with my boss’s constant
lewd pestering, but wasn’t achieving fortune part of the American
dream?

“
I’m not quite sure I
understand what you mean,” I said. I resisted admitting my
incomprehension.

“
You’re a newbie here in the
big city. You’ll get it sooner or later,” he said. “Money won’t
make you happy, Isabelle.”

I listened to him and wondered where
the genius in his comment could be. It was a comment I had heard
many times. Right then, I didn’t believe it. My salary had afforded
me my new designer jeans, my gorgeous sandals, and a cashmere
sweater. I longed for a car like M.D.’s, luggage like Kim’s, and a
house in the Hamptons. Granted, that all might come at the cost of
being harassed by my boss, but as Kim had pointed out, it was just
a price to pay for all the nice things I had recently
acquired.

The air was chilly. Jeffrey stripped
off his college sweatshirt and gave it to me. It was a sweatshirt
that had some mileage on it—the collar and sleeves were fraying and
there was a tiny hole at the elbow. The sleeves were far too long
and the whole garment hung low on my body. We laughed at my outfit.
I tucked my legs inside the sweatshirt. I secretly took in whiffs
of his musky cologne.

“
You went to Cornell?” I
asked Jeffrey.

“
Yeah, long time ago. I’m an
old man.” He was forty-seven.

“
Did you know that Eric went
there too?” I asked.

Jeffrey quickly looked up at
me.

“
Yeah, I heard.” He quickly
changed the subject.

We talked about his travels through
Tibet, his five-day vow of silence in Nepal, his stay at a
monastery in Laos, his trip to Vietnam, his hike through
Myanmar.

“
Wall Street is a cancer
that eats at your soul,” Jeffrey said out of the blue. He was so
assertive that it was easy to confuse his opinion with fact. Yet,
there was something about his strong opinion that attracted me. He
exuded a certain je ne sais quoi.

“
Geez, I work in finance,” I
said in a slightly flirtatious way.

“
I did too. It isn’t
personal. In the restaurant world you see a lot of cheating, some
of them people I used to work with.”

I wondered if he knew about Kim’s
situation.

I wanted to kiss him that night, but I
chickened out and hugged him instead.

A
fter the Hamptons, I began to spend more time with Jeffrey,
seeing him nearly every day either at his restaurant or elsewhere.
We grew to be very good friends. Although I sensed he had feelings
for me and we were attracted to each other, I still was not ready
to become romantically entangled.

Everything Jeffrey and I did involved
food and wine—tastings, restaurant openings, and Food Network
visits. I even got to know various celebrity chefs. My favorite was
Todd English, who was charming.

One day, Jeffrey wasn’t able to make
it to dinner, but he urged me to go to Todd’s restaurant opening,
nonetheless. I brought Carin with me. When Todd saw us standing
with the hostess, he left his kitchen to give me a hug. “So glad
you could make it,” he said.

“
Yeah, sorry Jeffrey
couldn’t make it. So I brought a friend. He suggested
it.”

“
Just happy you could make
it,” Todd said. He then turned to the hostess. “Make sure you seat
these girls fast.” He then excused himself to get back to the
kitchen.

“
Follow me!” the hostess
said.

Carin was impressed. I looked around
and noticed customers smiling at me. We were seated at a table in
the middle of the room.

“
It pays to know the chef,”
Carin said.

I smiled, and we gave each other
high-fives.

Todd started to send food over to us
before we had even ordered anything.

“
Compliments of the chef,”
the waitress said. Todd waved from the kitchen. Carin and I lifted
our wine glasses and toasted to him.

The food was adventurous yet familiar.
It was accessible yet delicate. Carin described the meal as the
best meal any Italian grandmother could make.

When we asked for the bill, the
waitress said it had been “taken care of by Todd.”

“
Shit, had I known that, I
would have gotten a more expensive bottle of wine,” Carin said.
“Why does food taste so much better when it’s free?” she asked. I
agreed.

The next day at work, I wanted to tell
Kim about my evening at Todd’s restaurant. I was floored by his
generosity and wanted to share it with her but she was
uninterested. She seemed to be too self-absorbed to listen to my
own New York moment.

“
If you have no plans this
week, let’s meet up with M.D. tomorrow. We’re going to Chelsea
Piers where his friend keeps a boat.”