Ebony Angel (2 page)

“
Adiós
.” She turned and saw Richard. “Well hello there. I see you made it safely.” She sat in the seat beside him.

His pulse raced. The contrast between her smooth dark skin and dazzling white smile was as captivating as her sepia eyes. He found himself staring.

She frowned. “Is something wrong? I can sit somewhere else.”

“Oh no, no. Cat got my tongue for a second there. I apologize. I didn’t mean to stare. You’re just so beautiful.”

Ebony covered her face with her hands, displaying at least two gold rings on each finger and long acrylic nails.

He gently pulled her soft hands from her face. He’d swear she was blushing. “Much better. I’m Richard, Richard Pacini.”

“Ebony Washington.”

He reached inside his coat pocket, took out his wallet and searched for a small bill. “Let me repay you now.”

“No need.”

He held out a $50 bill. “This is all I have.” She laughed lightly and shook her head. He knew he’d never seen a brighter day. “What’s so funny?” He brushed his hand over his dark, wavy hair.

“You tried to put a fifty in the machine. No wonder it was confused. You don’t ride the train much, do you? And I’m not taking your money.”

To keep from insulting her, he put the money away. “This is my first time. My car had not one—but two flats.”

“I’m not trying to get into your business, but people like you don’t usually come on this side of the tracks unless they’re looking for drugs or a cheap trick.”

“Like me?” He grinned. “You mean white.”

Her lips tipped up at the corners. “Yes, white.” She took off her charcoal fleece hat, allowing her blonde microbraids to fall freely. “It’s getting hot in here.”

“Whoa, now that’s a shock. Amazing contrast.” He started to reach for a few strands to examine, but thought better of it. He didn’t want to insult her. “This had to take hours to do. Extensions right?”

“About twenty to be exact, and, yes, I wear weave. Do you always get so personal with strangers?” The next stop was announced over the speaker system.

Expecting to see annoyance, he was relieved to see amusement dancing in her eyes instead. “It works for me.” The doors slid open, a few passengers stepped on, then the door closed. “I’m not here
trolling
for women or drugs.” A slight breeze brought a hint of her sweet scent. Like her, the scent made him wish for more.

“You’ve been eavesdropping.” She wrapped the scarf around her hands.

“Who, me? I’d never. What happened to your gloves?”

“I gave them away.” She unrolled the end of the scarf, offering it to him. “So how did you end up at the Laramie Street station?”

“A semi was stuck under the Austin viaduct, so I continued down to Central.”

“Oh, I bet I know what happened. A water main broke on Central last night. I’ll bet Central is still closed.”

“So that’s it! I continued down the road when my car started to lean. I drove down to the next street. For a second I thought the power was off in the neighborhood. You should call your alderman or someone and have the lights fixed. Anyway, I drove around the corner and parked under a streetlight to change my tire.”

“Didn’t you have a spa—” she stopped abruptly. “Wait a second. You said two flats.”

“I should have known there was something wrong with the spot I parked in. The few other empty spaces had chairs and other furniture in them.” The whole placing chairs in the street to reserve a parking space was new to him. Born and raised in Texas, he’d moved to Chicago in December. He was still waiting on a call from his sister to welcome him to her city.

“Well, if you had spent all that time shoveling, you wouldn’t want anyone taking your space either. Even the mayor says to respect others’ parking spots.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s why the spot I parked in was filled with nails. I didn’t see them until I got out of my car.”

“Ouch.”

“Yep, ouch. I saw the train station on Laramie and went for it. I’ll call AAA from work. No offense, but I didn’t want to be sitting in that area any longer than needed.”

“Smart move.”

The automated message announced the approach to the State Street station. He had meant to ask for her number before they separated, but time flew by too quickly.

She stood slowly, zipping her coat. “I’m afraid this is my stop. I have to catch the Red Line.”

The tinge of sorrow that colored her voice encouraged him. “You’re not losing me that easily.”

“You’re transferring also?”

“I am today.”

Richard handed Ebony his cell phone. “Program your number in.” Their fellow passengers ignored them, except for two young black males who had entered the Red Line train with them: one was snarling, the other looked as if he might explode any minute.

“Here you go.” She returned his phone. “But you won’t call.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Right now you’re cold, and it might be affecting your brain,” she teased. “Wait until you’ve had time to thaw.”

“You think I’m prejudiced? Or are you subtly telling me you would never date a white guy?”

She studied him a long while. “Neither. I really like you, but I’m a single mother and don’t have time for games. What would your family say if you took me home for dinner? No sense traveling down a dead end when I’m on a long journey.”

He checked the time on his cell phone, flipped it open and made a call. “Good morning, Nonno.” He loved the way she cocked her head to the side as if to say, “What the heck are you up to?” If he could convince her to take those awful blonde extensions out of her hair, she would move from an eleven to a twelve on the beauty scale, which maxed out at ten.

He winked at Ebony. “Yeah, I know it’s early, but I knew you’d be awake. Would you do me a favor?”

Ebony lowered her face into her hands. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. Tell whomever goodbye and hang up.”

“It’s alright, this is my grandpapà.” He removed his finger. “I’m sitting here with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She won’t go out with me because I’m white.” He laughed at her mortified expression. “Of course I brushed my teeth.”

“You’re a dead man, Richard.” She looked out the window. “Isn’t this your stop?”

He watched a few passengers board. “Nope…Sorry, Nonno, Ebony was trying to distract me…” He frowned. “What do you mean she’s probably too good for me? You’re supposed to be on my side.” His hearty laugh drew stares. “Just tell her I’m the greatest thing since pasta.” He held out the phone. “He wants to speak with you.”

“Are you serious? You don’t really have anyone on the line do you?”

He held the phone to her ear, then watched her closely. After a few seconds, she relaxed, held the phone for herself, then laughed and joked with Nonno. He knew his grandfather would win her over. He hadn’t met a woman who could resist the man’s charm. Even his ice queen of a mother melted when Nonno was around.

She disconnected and handed him the phone. “Your grandfather’s a mess. He said if you don’t treat me right, I should look him up.”

“Note to self: Stay away from Nonno when Ebony’s around. Now tell me about your child.” He dropped the phone into his inside coat pocket.

“Crystal’s seven, and the light of my life.”

His face scrunched up. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“That old? I thought you were eighteen, and I was getting me a young chick.” He flashed a sly grin, his eyebrows bouncing. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Not on me. I haven’t carried pictures since my wallet was stolen a few years ago.” The the 87th Street station was announced. “Now, I know this is your stop.”

“I’ll ride to 95th with you, then double back. Are you trying to get rid of me?” he teased, suddenly worried his questions had become too persistent, too personal. He wasn’t usually this forward, but he wanted to know everything about her.

“Of course not. So you’re opening an office on the south side? Folks out here need financial planning, too.”

“My thinking exactly. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll be the CFO of a Fortune 500 company by the time I’m forty.” He moved to Chicago to take a regional manager position in his investment firm. Only thirty years old, he was the youngest regional manager in the company’s history.

“I have a few financial connections if you’re interested.”

“Thank you. I’ll take all the help I can get. So what about you? What are your plans after college?”

She made a praying motion with her hands. “I’m so glad this is my last semester. I thought graduation would never come. My short-term plan is finding a job with a consulting firm and moving. My long-term goal is to own a consulting firm someday.”

The excitement and pride in her voice warmed his heart. She was living proof that the economically depressed parts of the city produced more than criminals, drug addicts and welfare queens. “So you want to be the boss lady?” The train stopped at the 95th Street station. “I’ll walk you out.”

They walked onto the platform together and went to a secluded but well lit corner. “Thanks for everything,” he said. “I don’t know how to show my appreciation.” She bit her bottom lip, and he thought he would overheat. He longed to kiss her luscious lips, but feared spooking her. “I’ll call you.” He could tell by her stiff stance that she didn’t quite believe him.

She took off her scarf and handed it to him. “Wrap your ears and face with this. You’ll have to walk a few blocks from the station, and there’s nothing to block the wind.”

“I’m not taking your wrap. You need it.”

Slowly spinning with her arms held out, she said, “Look at me. An Eskimo called just the other day wanting to borrow this coat.” She flipped the front flap, then shook the hood. “My scarf and hat are a fashion statement.”

He hadn’t intended on being outside for longer than the time it took him to run from his parking space to his office. He allowed her to tie the scarf loosely around his neck, grateful she didn’t sign on to the stereotype that white people don’t get cold. Her sweet aroma called to him. “What perfume are you wearing? It’s been driving me crazy all morning.”

“I’m allergic to perfume. I use lotions and shower gels. This one’s called sweet pea. I bought it at Bath and Body Works.”

He stroked the scarf, wishing it were Ebony. His instant attraction to her surprised him. He had always been level headed about women. “I think I’ll buy stock in Bath and Body today. They have a winner.” He lifted her perfectly manicured fingers to his lips, then pulled her hand back slightly, staring open mouthed. “Tell me this isn’t a ring on the end of your nail.” He touched the tiny gold ring on the tip of her index fingernail.

She laughed. “You’re just noticing it?”

“You are one beautiful—yet strange—woman.” He gently kissed her knuckles. “I’m pleased to have met you, Miss Ebony Washington.”

“You are one handsome—yet impulsive—man. I think you need to head on to work and warm up, Mr. Richard Pacini.”

Ignoring curious stares from bystanders, he took her by the hand and escorted her to the exit stairway. “I’ll call you tonight. Is nine too late?”

“No. I’ll be around. Here comes your ride, and I need to get on before I have to wait for the next bus. Bye.”

He watched her walk up the steps, wave over her shoulder, then disappear around the corner. He almost convinced himself that if she hadn’t of smiled when she waved, he would have gotten on the train. He laughed at himself. He had never acted this rashly in his life. He could only pray she didn’t think him a scatterbrain. There was something about her that kept him wanting to see more of her.

He checked his Tag Heuer watch—slightly past 6:30. He took out his cell phone and dialed one of his business associates as he went up the exit steps. Someone had to open the office; he didn’t have to be the one. He finished his call while running to catch up with Ebony at the bus stop.

* * *

Richard and Ebony sat on a bench in the rotunda of the student union. Early on, barely a soul was in sight, but as the morning wore on, the place came to life. People were everywhere talking, joking, laughing and hurrying to class. It reminded Richard of his student days at Howard University.

The hours with Ebony passed like minutes. He wondered if she hadn’t checked the time or moved seats for the same reason as he. He didn’t want to do anything that might ruin the moment and bring their time to an end. Slightly winded from their jog from the bus stop, they had sat on the first bench they came to. Unfortunately, it was next to the revolving door. With each rotation came a gust of freezing air.

The patch of bright yellow sweater that peeked through the opening of Ebony’s coat was a lovely contrast with her dark skin. He appreciated contrast in everything from color to personalities. The often unexpected beauty resulting from combining the differences intrigued him. “You’re one contrast after another,” he said to Ebony.

“Don’t you mean contradiction?”

“Granted, it’s not everyday someone from your neighborhood earns an undergraduate degree from a school like the University of Chicago. But I don’t consider that a contradiction. I think of contradictions as things that shouldn’t be but are. The contrast between your upbringing and your college experience will give you an advantage over others.”