Page 13 of Mr. Blackwood

“Or could it be that he thinks you take yourself too seriously, and he’s challenging you the way you challenge everyone else?” Courtney asked.

“I think you’ve found the answer to your problems, but you’re so busy being offended at the man that you don’t see it clearly looking you in the face,” Shana stated.

“What answer? What problem?” Courtney asked. She looked between the two of us, and her face scrunched up. My sister didn’t like being left out of any details, and there was a lot I hadn’t shared with her. My omission wasn’t intentional, but we both had busy schedules, and we seldom had time to visit and talk. Shana, on the other hand, often popped up at the magazine office.

“Your sister is looking for her next breakthrough story that will launch the magazine to a national level. She needs Sullivan Investments to invest in her, but she’s got to prove that she’s a contender with some of the bigger magazines. The only way she can do that is by hosting community events, workshops, panels, and conferences. She needs to be able to leverage her digital platform and create a mobile app for her users,” Shana explained.

“And I need more competitive staff who can get out there and get the stories the people want to read about. Right now, there are only two full-time reporters and a handful of freelance reporters, columnists, and photographers, who I can barely afford to pay. Not to mention, my binding machine needs to be replaced, and other equipment need to be upgraded. I’m not in a good financial place, Court. If something doesn’t change soon, . . . I’ll be out of business.”

“What does this have to do with Mr. Blackwood?”

“Sullivan Investments wants a story on him. They’re willing to invest in us, if we can highlight him in our magazine. They believe that will allow us to compete on a national level with some of the larger magazines. If I can’t get the story, then I likely won’t get the investment,” I explained.

“Why don’t you just go to Mom and Dad for a loan?”

“That’s the last thing that I want to do. You know that I’ll never hear the end of it, and Dad will just want me to come and work for his communications firm. That’s not why I went to school all those years.”

“You’re right; but it might be worth it if it helps you accomplish your long-term goals,” Courtney declared.

“Yeah, but who wants to be up under them when they scarcely wanted to be around us?” I muttered.

She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. I gave hers a little squeeze and cast a weary smile her way. My sister and I were only a year apart, and both of us were sent off to boarding school no sooner than we turned ten. It was difficult, but it was our lives. Rather than having holidays at home with our parents, we spent the holidays with my mother’s parents.

“I still say that your prayers have been answered,” Shana spoke after Courtney and I had our kumbaya moment.

“How?” Courtney and I asked at once.

“You need that one big story to prove to Sullivan Investments you’re worth them funding you. It dropped into your lap.”

I shook my head, still clueless.

“Damn, girl. Do I have to spell everything out for you? Jabari Blackwood. That’s the story you’ve been wanting. He’s almost begging you to go out with him, so go,” Shana declared.

“She’s right, sis,” Courtney replied, pulling her hand from mine. She rested her elbow on the table and placed her chin in the palm of her hand. She looked dreamily at me and remarked, “All you have to do is accept a date with him—get him to trust you, and he’ll tell you his secrets.”

Somehow, I didn’t think it would be as easy as Courtney made it sound, but I had never backed down from a challenge. My attorney had just notified me this week that my divorce from Nick was finalized. I was free to do what I wanted, and what I wanted was to climb the Mt. Everest known as Mr. Jabari Blackwood.

***

Although I had promised myself and my sister I wouldn’t work unusually late anymore, I chose to do it tonight. I had come in late after having brunch with Shana and Courtney, and I decided to put some extra hours in.

I glanced up at the clock and noticed it was a few minutes after nine. I decided to try my luck and head upstairs to the rooftop. I had seen Mr. Blackwood coming in this afternoon when I arrived. He was with a group of men who were equally as fine as he was. They were chatting and laughing in the lobby, and he had caught my gaze. His laughter halted briefly before he returned his attention to the group of men.

Feeling as if I had been released from his spell, I rushed to the elevator and hopped on. When we had dinner a few nights ago, he mentioned that he often went to the rooftop around nine or ten to think. He said he generally stayed there for a few hours. I wondered if he was dropping that nugget in hopes that I would use that in the future.

Whatever the reason was, I was glad he had shared it. I was going to visit him now. I needed to implement a plan. When I arrived, I smelled the exotic scents of oud and tonka bean, mixed in with the sweet fragrance of his cigar.

I found him sitting in the same area he had been the last time, only this time the lights were still on. He was having drinks, and he waved me over.

“I was hoping you would come by.”

“I figured that was why you dropped that piece of information about when you choose to visit up here.”

“Would you like something to drink?” His gaze was heavy, suggesting he already had a couple of drinks in him.

“Sure. I’ll take a rum and coke.”

He nodded and walked to the bar. I watched as he expertly prepared a drink for me and brought it over. “Not only do you have a talent for making lots of money and building successful corporations, but you also make a nice drink,” I replied after taking a couple of sips.