9781631050183CrossingBoundariesValiereNC (4 page)

They exploded together in a fiery orgasm that rocketed through their bodies simultaneously. Cassie clawed at Todd’s back with her sharp, long fingernails, and when he climbed off her, she saw that she had left red welts in streaks that testified to the heights of her passion.

Todd sank down beside Cassie on the bed and threw an arm across her. He burrowed his face into the cleft of her neck and nuzzled at her as her breathing slowly quieted and returned to normal. “Thank you, sweets,” he purred. “That was wonderful.”

“Yes, it was,” she agreed. “Yes, it was.”

She lay there in a haze of post-orgasmic stupor, floating in a state of utter satisfaction. Todd stroked her arm and gentled her down from her sexual high. For a few minutes neither of them said anything. Then Todd asked, “Do you want to think about dessert now?”

“I think a butterscotch sundae with butter pecan ice cream would be lovely,” she murmured.

“Stay put. I’ll fix one for each of us and bring them in here,” Todd offered.

“Mmmm, thank you.” Cassie rolled onto her side and curled up in a ball of contentment. She was half asleep when Todd returned with two full bowls and two spoons. Rousing herself, she sat up on the bed and propped herself against the headboard. “You’re trying to fatten me up,” she said, taking the bowl he offered her. “Are you planning to butcher me and roast me on a spit?”

“Ah, you caught on to my devious plan. And here I thought I was being so clever.” Once again he pretended to twirl an old-time villain’s moustache. Then he sank to the bed and crossed his legs, yoga-style. Cassie sat with her legs extended, but each had a bowlful of ice cream sundae in his or her hands. Cassie dug into her sundae first. “Mmmmm,” she said as the super-sweet confection made its way down her throat.

Todd dug into his next. He had taken less ice cream for himself than he had given Cassie. When she observed this discrepancy, she said, “See! You
are
fattening me up for the kill.”

“I plan to work the calories off you—in bed,” he said. “Over a long-term period.”

“My. You really do have plans for the future, don’t you?” Cassie said.

“Sweets, we belong together. I know it already. I sense it. We’re fated to be mated.”

A shiver raced through Cassie. Was this white guy her future? Would the interracial aspect of their relationship work out—or doom their hopes? And what if it didn’t work out? How would she maintain a working relationship with Todd? Right now, everything looked rosy, but how long would that last?

She sighed as she dug into her sundae. Why did life have to be so complicated?

C
hapter Three

The next day the show was on the air again. Ginger knew Cassie had had a date with Todd the night before, but with Todd right there in the booth, there was a limit to what Ginger could ask. With her hands beneath the table, where Todd couldn’t see them from his booth, Ginger spread her hands out palms up while giving a barely perceptible shrug. Keeping her hands also below tabletop level, Cassie flashed a thumbs-up at Ginger with both hands. Ginger grinned at Cassie, and Cassie responded with a wink.

All went well till the third caller, a raspy-voiced man who said his name was Gene. “I take it that one of you girls is black and the other one is white?” Gene asked.

“That’s right,” Cassie answered, wondering where this was heading.

“I suppose there’s no harm in a black girl and a white girl doing a radio show together, except that you make it look normal for blacks and whites to mix.”

“It
is
normal. Welcome to the twenty-first century,” Ginger said.

“Well, now—here’s where the problem starts. I went out to McDonald’s for dinner last night—”

“I can tell you’re a real gourmet,” Ginger cut in drily.

“—and there were these two kids, college age I’d say, hanging out together. Clearly they were a couple, not just friends. She was black and he was white. That’s not right. White guys shouldn’t date black girls. It’s not natural. It’s not proper. How do we put a stop to it?”

“We don’t. We shouldn’t,” Ginger replied sharply. “What we should try to put a stop to is the kind of prejudiced thinking that makes it seem like there’s anything wrong with blacks and whites dating each other in the first place.”

But Gene was not to be silenced that easily. “You’re the white girl, right? You’re Ginger?”

“That’s right.”

“You wouldn’t date a black guy, would you? I bet you haven’t ever gone out with a black guy.”

“It happens that I haven’t, but I certainly would if I met one who appealed to me.”

“Then you’re a disgrace to your race,” Gene snorted. “Cassie, you’re the black chick, right? You haven’t ever dated a white guy, have you?”

“I had a date with a white guy last night,” she said quietly but firmly.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” the caller declared.

“And I’m going out with him again tomorrow night,” Cassie added.

Both Ginger and Todd pumped their fists into the air.

“Why can’t you stick to your own kind and leave our boys alone?”

“Why can’t you bury your prejudice and accept that we’re all people? Skin color is irrelevant, just like hair color or eye color. Next you’ll be saying blue-eyed people shouldn’t date brown-eyed people, or redheads shouldn’t date blonds. What’s the difference if one person’s skin is dark and another’s is light? We all have hearts beating underneath.”

“We’re two different races. It’s not natural.”

“It’s your prejudice that’s not natural.” That was Ginger, inserting herself into the fray. “I see we have another caller waiting. I hope he or she has a more enlightened view.” She disconnected Gene and picked up line two. “You’re on the air on
Chocolate and Vanilla.
Whom are we speaking with?”

“My name is Cheryl. I just want to thank you both for speaking up to that last caller. My daughter is a white girl married to a black man, and she’s encountered folks like that Gene who give her grief about her relationship. To be honest, my husband and I weren’t thrilled when we first saw she was getting serious about LeShawn, but he’s just the nicest boy, he treasures my daughter, and she couldn’t be happier. The one fly in the ointment is people like Gene. If we, her parents, are cool with her being married to LeShawn, why do other people have to give her a hard time? What business is it of theirs anyhow?”

Ginger pointed to herself, indicating to Cassie that she wanted to handle this caller. Cassie’s mind was adrift anyway. She was happy to let Ginger take over. Cassie was reflecting on what was ahead of her if she continued to date Todd. She’d be facing people like Gene and people like this caller Cheryl’s daughter had to deal with. She sighed heavily. Why did the world have to be so complicated?

Maybe she was making a mistake to go out with Todd. She really liked him. He was sweet, funny, intelligent, thoughtful, and a good lover too, but what was she letting herself in for? Suppose she got serious about Todd? Suppose one day they decided to live together—or even marry? It was a bit premature to think of such things after just one date, but in this world it helped to be a realist, and these outcomes were realistic possibilities. Maybe it was better to nip this relationship in the bud.

Without thinking, she looked at Todd in his booth. He was looking at her, and when he saw her glance at him, he winked at her, then blew her a kiss. He really was sweet, she thought. Should she give up a promising relationship just because of some sour old apples, some people who wanted to make problems where there really were none?

She began planning the menu she would serve when he came over for dinner tomorrow.

On their third date they went to a restaurant. The dinner she had cooked for him had been an unqualified success, and the lovemaking that followed was as satisfying as on their first date.

“But I don’t want you thinking I’m some cheapskate who doesn’t spend money on his girlfriend,” Todd said later as they lay in bed. “Where do you want me to take you, and what night can we do it? The sooner the better. What are you smiling about?”

He had called her his girlfriend. That elevated their relationship a notch. But she kept her thoughts to herself and just said, “You make me smile. How about tomorrow night? At Morgana’s?” Morgana’s was a local seafood restaurant.

“Great. I’ll make reservations. We can have drinks at my place first, if that’s good with you.”

“Sure.”

“Six o’clock at my place?”

“I’ll be there.”

As she drove to Todd’s apartment the evening of their third date, she was excited to see him again. She had seen him at work that afternoon, of course, but certainly this was different. When she arrived at his apartment, he opened the door and greeted her with a heartfelt, passionate kiss. “The queen of the airwaves and she’s mine, all mine,” he gloated rapturously.

“Queen? I’m no female Howard Stern,” she reproached him.

“You’re my queen,” he replied.

“Then why aren’t you bowing to me?” she teased him.

He bowed low in response, removing an imaginary hat and tipping it to her. “Come in, milady. Your drink is waiting.”

They cuddled on the sofa while sipping their drinks, with one of his arms curved around her shoulder. That hand stroked her upper arm. She snuggled into the strong warmth of his body.

“Chocolate and vanilla—that’s not just the name of your show. That’s us, and I don’t care who doesn’t like it,” he said.

So the attitudes of people like Gene had been weighing on his mind too, she thought. Why did the world have to be so complicated?

“I heard from my brother in college today,” Todd said.

“Oh? What’s he studying?”

“Engineering.”

“What type of engineering does he want to get into?” she asked.

Todd sighed. “He doesn’t really want to be an engineer. He really wants to be a musician. It runs in the family. But he’s going to be a civil engineer.”

“He decided engineering was a more secure field?”

“Mother decided for him.”

“Your mother decided? Isn’t he old enough to make up his own mind?”

“Can you spell ‘matriarch’? Can you spell ‘domineering’? Mother rules the family with an iron hand. Even though she has a raft of health problems, she hasn’t relaxed her grip on the reins of the family one iota.”

“You don’t seem to be under your mother’s thumb.”

“I had to give up a lot—including a trust fund—to get out from under,” Todd said, squeezing Cassie’s shoulders. “And Mother still tries to run my life, despite my independence. When you meet her, you’ll see for yourself.”

When you meet her?
He was already planning to introduce Cassie to his mother? Good grief—the man was getting serious!

Todd changed the topic abruptly. “So, how do you see your future in broadcasting? Are you aiming for a network show, or TV, or what? Will I be listening to you over Sirius radio a year from now or seeing you co-hosting a TV talk show?”

“Actually, I don’t have any grand plans. That would mean moving away from Indian Springs, and I like it here. I also enjoy my work in real estate. If some kind of full-time broadcasting opportunity here in Indian Springs came up, I don’t know what I would do. I don’t know if I would take it. I love broadcasting, but I love real estate too. I know I don’t want to move away. That much I’m sure of.”

“You don’t have stars in your eyes? You’re not aiming for the big time? That’s very unusual. What about Ginger? Is she aiming to climb the ladder?”

“You know, we never really discussed that. I’ll have to ask her one of these days. That’s a good question. What about
you?
What are
your
aspirations?”

“To do work I enjoy in a place I enjoy being. I’m happy here, so staying in this area would suit me fine. I enjoy my radio engineering job, although I wouldn’t be averse to taking some other job, preferably in broadcasting. I could move up to become the station manager, I suppose, or learn the ropes at a recording studio and become an audio engineer there. I guess I’m not ambitious—I want to earn enough to support myself and someday a family, but I’m not dreaming of being a millionaire. Being happy is more important to me than being rich.”

“I like that attitude,” Cassie said. “You want to earn a decent living, but you’re more interested in happiness than in great wealth. I’d say you’ve got your feet on the ground.”

“That’s one of the things my mother and I don’t agree on. Dad was a company president. Mother thinks I should aspire to be one too. She doesn’t approve of my current job because it’s not a great career path to the top. Dad never really enjoyed his work. Mother says, ‘That’s immaterial. He was
successful
!’ Well, to me that’s
not
immaterial. To me that’s very important. Being unhappy is not my idea of success.”

They had finished their drinks. Todd checked his watch. “We’d better get a move on. I made our reservations for seven-fifteen,” he said. “If you want another drink, we can always have one at the restaurant.”

“No, I’m good,” Cassie said. “Lead me to the lobster. I hope they have lobster Newburg, but if they don’t, a plain boiled lobster will do fine.”

“How about lobster fra diavolo?” Todd asked as they stood up and got their coats on.

“Or lobster thermidor,” Cassie said. “That’s good too. What are you jonesing for?”

“The shrimp à la Morgana. It’s the house special. Garlic by the ton. Capers and pimientos, tomatoes and parmesan cheese, a wine sauce—I’ve tried to duplicate it at home, but it never comes out the same. There must be some secret ingredient that’s not obvious when you’re eating it. At one time I thought it was Worcestershire sauce, but I tried adding that and it still didn’t come out the same.”

They went downstairs, got into Todd’s car, and began the drive to the restaurant. “If you order this shrimp à la Morgana, let me have a taste?” Cassie asked.

“Sure. You’ll be sorry you didn’t order it yourself.”

“Maybe so, but my intention is to see if I can figure out what the secret ingredient is.”