I Saw Your Profile Read online

  Her Camry finally arrived.

  “Nice car,” said Kenny, as he paid the attendant.

  “Thanks.”

  They walked to the driver’s side and Kenny opened her door. He commented on the navigation system inside. She told him she needed it because she gets lost in a closet.

  They laughed.

  Then silence.

  “Aren’t you going to say something, Kenny?”

  He sighed. “I had a nice time. Just wish things had worked out differently.”

  He kissed her on the cheek and hugged her. This time, she hugged him back. The smell of his cologne aroused her.

  Damn! Why did he have to be so big?

  Chapter Five

  Nicole Harris had a man.

  While her sorors and other friends hated on her relationship, she basked in the glow of making love every night with her six-foot-five-inch ebony king.

  She liked to tell them that while their hands played with the little man in the boat, hers played with the little beady hairs on her man’s chest. They wanted what she had, but their jealousy wouldn’t let them see it. At least, that’s how she saw it in the beginning.

  Only one of her girls was married and two were in relationships. The others were on a mad testosterone hunt. The competition in D.C. was fierce and most of the brothers in the suburbs had wives. That didn’t stop several of them from hitting on her at the gym and the grocery store, but she wasn’t trying to share, at least not willingly.

  She’d dated several brothers at her job and others who worked for D.C. government, but things just never seemed to work out so she turned to the ‘net. After meeting several frogs she accepted the fact that she’d be bringing in the new millennium alone. But by Halloween, she’d found her prince on LoveMeBlack.com.

  Hello LMB,

  I am a tall lady, 5'10 to be exact, and I would love a tall, handsome man to sweep me off my feet. I live in Bowie, Maryland, not too far from D.C. I have one son and if you don’t mind being his friend, too, we can talk. I’m a Christian, drug and alcohol free, looking for the same. In addition to being a single parent, I’m a public relations executive, which means I am a busy lady. Have no fear, though, I know how to set my priorities and make time for that special someone. I’m independent, but not so independent that I don’t need to be held. If you’ve been looking for that special lady, I might just be her. Email me and let’s find out.

  Nicole

  Lady Nicole,

  I moved to the US from London a few years ago. I hope my 6'5" frame meets your height specifications. I’m 210 lbs of lean muscle (photos on request). I’m what you Americans call a gym rat. I love anything athletic and that has to do with the outdoors. I’m a personal fitness trainer. Unlike American men, strong black women do not intimidate me. In fact, I adore them. I’d love to find out what we have in common and see where this could lead. I’d also like to know if your inner beauty matches your outer beauty. Hope I hear from you soon.

  Chauncey

  Hello Chauncey,

  How are you? It was nice of you to write. So you’re a personal trainer? I imagine you come across beautiful women every day in your line of work, yet somehow, you still manage to stay single? I work out about three times a week, but I haven’t managed to achieve my goal yet. Maybe you can give some pointers. I, too, enjoy the outdoors and physical activity. Tell me, do you have any children? What religion are you and where do you live? Also, I’d love a photo, so consider this a request.

  Until we “meet” again,

  Nicole

  Lady Nicole,

  It was so nice to hear from you. I would love to help you devise a plan to help you achieve your goals, but first you must tell me where you are and where you’d like to be. I know women don’t like to talk about their weight, but it would help if I knew what you were trying to accomplish.

  However, I must say based on the picture I saw of you online, you look fine just as you are. As for my clients, I have a strict policy of not mixing business with pleasure. I won’t deny that I’ve been propositioned a few times, but I simply don’t date clients.

  I have a son. He lives in London with his mother. We are divorced. I live in New York and I was raised Catholic, but consider myself just Christian. I'm looking for a very special lady to have dinner with, go out to the movies, or just hang out with and have some fun. I am a very fun loving gentleman who doesn't play games and is not looking for a one-night stand. Does this interest you so far? I hope we can get to know one another better. I’ve enclosed a photo. I hope it is to your liking.

  Chauncey

  Hello again Chauncey,

  Well, what you are looking for sounds fine, with one exception. We live four hours apart. But I guess we can cross that bridge when we come to it. How long has it been since you left London and moved to New York? I'm from D.C. but moved to Maryland after I graduated from college. I work in D.C. though. I enjoy being around positive people, people with a sense of humor, who know how to laugh and have fun and don't take themselves too seriously. As for one-night-stands, I'm not looking for one of those either. But, I’m also not looking to rush into anything. Just would like to meet someone I can spend time with, get to know, establish a friendship and take it from there.

  Take Care, Nicole

  P.S. The photo was definitely to my liking and I’m not comfortable telling you what I weigh. At least, not just yet.

  Lady Nicole,

  You may keep your weight to yourself for now, but eventually it will come out. (smile) If you’re worried that I would judge you, don’t be. I think you are a lovely woman already and it’s what’s on the inside that matters.

  So tell me more about yourself? Tell me about your family? About your son? What’s his name? What does he like to do? It must be difficult being a single parent. I love children and I have the utmost respect for women who raise them alone. My parents were divorced when I was eight. I’m originally from Barbados and my mum still lives there with my younger brother. Perhaps one day, you’ll feel comfortable giving me your number and I can call you and put a voice to the face and the emails.

  Have a lovely day,

  Chauncey

  Hi there Chauncey,

  Thanks for the compliment. Without getting into how much I weigh, I’ll tell you that I’m a size 14 and I’d love to go back to being a size 10.

  My son’s name is Jamal, “Jay” for short. His father and I were college sweethearts, but things fell apart after we graduated. Jamal loves basketball and soccer and yes it is hard raising him alone. I’m blessed to have good friends, though, who can bring him to his games when I have to work late and who help out in other ways. His father sees him, but not that often. My parents were married for over 30 years when my father died a few years ago. My mother had a stroke last year and she is in a nursing home. I visit as often as I can. My family is very close. I have a sister who lives in D.C. and a brother who lives in New Jersey.

  Why don’t you give me your phone number and I will call you.

  Take Care,

  Nicole

  She waited a week before calling him.

  “Hello, Chauncey. This is Nicole Harris. How are you?”

  “Lady, Nicole! Why hello. I’m doing well. How are you?”

  His accent was like an aphrodisiac to her ears.

  “I’m okay. Is this a good time? You’re not with a client are you?”

  “No, this is not a bad time. In fact, it’s perfect. Today is Sunday and I always rest on the seventh day.”

  “Good. It’s nice to finally put a voice with the words. I was wondering if you had an accent and I see that you do.”

  “Same here. And my what a lovely voice it is. Very deep and sultry. Do you sing?”

  “Actually, I do. In the church choir.”

  “Another thing we have in common. I used to sing in the chorus back home in Barbados. One day, perhaps, I’ll sing for you. I particularly enjoy Luther Vandross and Stevie Wonder. What about you, daahling? Wh
at kind of music do you like?”

  “I like gospel and rhythm and blues. So which do you consider home, London or Barbados?”

  “I lived in London for ten years, but I was born and raised in Barbados. That is my homeland. We call it Little England.”

  “Well, I don’t want to keep you. I just called to say hello and to finally hear your voice.”

  “You’re not keeping me, but I hope to have the opportunity to hear your lovely voice again. Perhaps you will call me tomorrow or maybe even give me your number so that I may call you.”

  She gave Chauncey her number and after a month of emails and long phone conversations, they agreed to meet in New York for their first date on New Year’s Eve. He bought her a train ticket and met her at Grand Central Station.

  Nicole smiled as Chauncey came toward her, unable to hide the delight in her eyes.

  Did she really have a date with a man who looked like he’d stepped off the cover of a magazine?

  Chauncey looked just like his picture. His sleek baldhead accented his smooth, ebony face. A neatly trimmed black mustache separated his prominent nose from his mouth.

  His narrow brown eyes squinted as he smiled at her, flashing chalk white teeth.

  He took her hand and kissed it.

  “Lady Harris. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. You are a vision.”

  A wave of electricity shot through Nicole and landed between her legs.

  “Thanks. You’re nice to look at, too.”

  He took her bag and they walked to his black Ford Expedition, parked a few blocks away. He drove to Forty-Second Street where they had dinner at the Soul Café, a supper club in the heart of New York’s theater district.

  Nicole sank into the cushioned, high-back chair and listened intently as Chauncey regaled her with stories of the people he’d met online and entertained at his home in London before his divorce. He’d had better luck establishing friendships on the Internet than loveships, but he knew Nicole was about to change that.

  She challenged his assumption, but only half-heartedly. The thought of becoming his lover made her smile inside. He had an encyclopedic mind and photographic memory. The fact that he was fine and worldly to boot increased his stock.

  Nicole was fascinated by other cultures. Between bites of jerk duck, and when she could get a word in, which was only when he was stuffing his mouth with red snapper, she asked questions about Barbados and London. She didn’t mind that Chauncey monopolized the conversation, though, because he was such a great storyteller.

  After dinner, they checked into a midtown Manhattan hotel. Chauncey shared an apartment with his sister. She needed the financial help, he said.

  He wanted Nicole to be comfortable so he booked a room with two beds, giving her the option to sleep alone. She appreciated that.

  In the room, they drank wine, talked, and watched New Year’s Eve celebrations on TV.

  They had planned to go to Times Square and watch the ball drop. Instead, they surrendered to the cozy couch in the suite.

  Chauncey ordered champagne and cheesecake from room service and they had a private party. He fed her a slice of cake. When he finished, he noticed a dot of cream cheese on the corner of her mouth. He licked it off, catching Nicole off guard. She eased away from him.

  “I’m sorry dear haart. Did I offend you?”

  Nicole gave him a nervous smile. “No.”

  “Then why are you over there?”

  Nicole felt like a teenager. How did she keep him close, but not too close? If she gave in, would he think she was easy?

  Chauncey didn’t wait for her answer. He put a glass of champagne to her lips.

  Nicole sipped as he stared at her. She felt her imperfections magnify under his gaze, making her even more nervous.

  “I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to, Lady Harris. I just want to celebrate the New Year with you in my arms.”

  He stood up and reached for her hand. Nicole gave it to him. They walked the short distance from the living area of the suite to the bedroom.

  “I’ll let you get undressed in private.” Chauncey shut the door and went across the hall to the bathroom.

  Nicole changed into a long, blue satin nightgown and climbed into one of the queen beds. Though she didn’t usually sleep in panties, that night she kept them on.

  Chauncey wore only a pair of white briefs when he joined her in the bedroom. Even in the darkness, she could make out the outline of his muscles.

  Nicole sent up a quick prayer for strength, hoping it would help keep her legs closed.

  Chauncey slid under the covers, pulling her body close to his. “I just want to be next to you, that’s all.”

  Nicole laid her head on his chest. “I had a great start to my new year. Thank you.”

  “Happy New Year, Lady Nicole.”

  Their schedules kept them from seeing each other for a long time. They kept in touch with more emails, phone calls and instant messages.

  Three months after their first date, Chauncey took a train to Baltimore and she picked him up in her green Jeep Cherokee.

  She told Jay he was a friend whom she liked a lot who might become more.

  “Like a boyfriend?” her son asked.

  “Something like that, honey. We’ll see.”

  Chauncey stayed at her home for two weeks, making dinner for her when she arrived home from work. He played video games with her son and they shot hoops in the backyard.

  For Nicole, it was like having the family Jamal Sr. had deprived her of. He was hardly ever home when they lived together and he never was much of a father. Chauncey gave her an emotional closeness that she’d never experienced with her son’s father.

  Also, Chauncey wasn’t afraid to talk about his feelings.

  “I loved Lydia completely. I was devastated when I learned of her betrayal,” he said about his ex-wife as they washed dishes together after dinner one evening.

  “Finding your wife in bed with another man is not easy for any man, but I tried to work things out for my son’s sake. But she chose her lover over me. I came to the states because I felt I had to get away before I did something I would regret. Besides, there are more opportunities here for people of color. Racism in London is even worse than it is here in America.”

  “She must’ve really hurt you.”

  “It was as if someone had stabbed me with a knife and twisted it. It was a year before I dated again. I threw myself into my work. I try not to hold her actions against all women. But it has been difficult for me to trust again.”

  After the first week, Chauncey moved from the sofa bed in the living room to her bedroom at night, and back to the sofa bed in the morning for Jay’s benefit. He made her believe she was the best thing that ever happened to him.

  “Do you believe in soul mates, daahling?” He slid his tongue over her toes as they lay in bed.

  Her breathing got heavier with each lap of his tongue.

  “I’m. Not. Sure. Why?”

  “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I feel as if I’ve known you for years, Lady Nicole. You’ve stolen my haart.”

  He caressed and kissed her all over, even the deep, golden stretch marks on her flabby stomach.

  They made love.

  Chauncey squeezed his eyes tightly and roared like a mountain lion when he came. “Grrrr Grrrr Grrrr.”

  She whispered as they panted their way back to earth, “I’ve never heard a noise like that before.”

  He pulled out and lay next to her. “That was the sound of satisfaction from a man in love.”

  He kissed her forehead.

  She wasn’t convinced. It was too soon.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do,” he said. “And one day soon you will trust in my feelings for you and you’ll be able to trust yours for me.”

  Chauncey peeked across the hall to make sure Jay was still sleeping, and then went to the bathroom to flush his Trojan. Nicole followed to take a shower. He
climbed in behind her and massaged her shoulders, working his way down to the small of her back. She leaned into him and purred her satisfaction.

  “Mmm. Your hands are like magic.”

  “You are the magician, Lady Harris. You’ve shown me how to love again.”

  A month later, Chauncey was back on Amtrak for what was supposed to be another two-week visit.

  He stayed for three. When he left it was to get his clothes, his truck and other personal things.

  For most of the first year they lived together, he contributed little in the way of money. He said it was hard trying to build clientele in an area like Bowie, even though it was a stone’s throw from D.C.

  He did his part in other ways. He watched Jay after school, cleaned the house, did the laundry, and helped with the cooking.

  They worked out together at the gym every morning before she went to the office. He would often stay after she left, working on his huge biceps, perfectly chiseled pecs, quads and hamstrings.

  The three of them went to the nine o’clock service at church every Sunday. They ate together and held hands to say grace before each meal.

  Nicole sent clients his way whenever she could. Women in her office and others who worked for D.C. government, ladies from her church, sisters from her sorority. Word eventually spread and Chauncey was on his way to making business.

  At first, he wouldn’t take clients from three to six so he could still watch Jay.

  One day, she came home and he was teaching Jay to play cards. She asked Chauncey about the last time he saw his own son.

  “When I left London, about two years ago.”

  “You miss him, don’t you?”

  “Of course. We were very close. He stayed with me the night before I left London, and on the morning of my depaarture, he acted out because he didn’t want me to go. I was stern with him and told him he had to behave like a man, but after his mother came and picked him up, I cried.”

  Chauncey’s story brought back memories of her own father. Nicole was daddy’s little girl and everything she wanted, he gave her.