Psychological Affairs

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Racially Offensive

“Your friend offered me a job position—but only if I slept with him.” I said.

“Ryan did what?”

“You heard me. I asked him if I can switch to part-time so I could focus on school and then he offered me a position and then kissed me.”

“What did you do?” He asked, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles changed colors.

“What do you mean, what did I do? I didn’t do anything.” I said in anger.

“I mean, what did you do after he kissed you?”

“I stepped back and then he told me some racially insensitive things to me. Things like how women like me are lucky to be deemed attractive from men like him and then tried to kiss me again. So, I slapped him and quit.”

                I watched as his face turned red in anger, squeezing his steering wheel for life.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He said, removing his hands from the wheel and looking at me.

“Really? You’re sorry?” I asked, getting angrier again.

“Yes, I’m sorry. You should’ve never have to have gone through that.”

“Whatever.” I simply said.

“What-you don’t think I had anything to do with this, don’t you?” He said incrediously.

“So, we’re not going to explain you magically popping out of nowhere, right?”

“Listen, I’m here for a meeting, not what you think it I’m here for.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you?” I asked.

“Yeah, you are. You’ve known me for three years—yes, I’ve had some faults but you know I would never do this.”

“How am I supposed to know? For three years, what was I really? Was I just some fetish you had? Something you white men can just brag about—you know, sleeping with a black girl.”

“You’re kidding me, right? I am nothing like other white men.”

I simply chuckled at him, rolling my eyes.

“If you were a fetish, trust me—you wouldn’t last three years.”

“I wasn’t just a good fuck, right?”

                He sighed, sitting back into his chair.

“I don’t know what Ryan thinks—or believes, but I don’t see you in that way. I actually did love you and I still do.”

“You know what? Can I leave please?” I asked, gripping the door handle.

“And how are you going home?”

“My boyfriend will pick me up.” I quickly blurted out.

“Boyfriend?” He questioned with his eyebrow raised.

“Yes, boyfriend. In fact, I’ll call him right now.” I said, quickly pulling out my phone.

                I dialed Chris’ cell phone number and put it to my ear. The sound of a beep invaded my ears as I finally realized a problem. “Shit.” I muttered under my breath. I hung up and put the phone back into my purse.

“Problem?” James asked, a small grin popping from the sides of his mouth.

                I glared at him, turning red in the face.

“No, he just isn’t picking up. I forgot that he’s in meetings all day.” I said as a matter-of-factly.

“Oh really? A lawyer, I assume?”