Читать книгу The Streets Keep Calling - Chunichi - Страница 6

Clients can really stress me out, but Mr. Biggs and his wife earned the grand prize. Mr. Biggs was one of the bank’s biggest clients, as well as one of my biggest headaches. As soon as I saw him coming off the elevator, I took a fast detour into my office, quickly picked up the phone, and put it to my ear. I pulled up my computer screen and pretended to be deep in conversation with whomever was on the phone. Even though I put on an Oscar-winning performance, Mr. Biggs still rudely walked into my office and interrupted me.

“Ms. Johnson, may I speak with you for a moment?” He stood in front of my desk.

I held up one finger to signal that I’d be with him in a minute, as I wrapped up my bogus phone conversation.

“What can I do for you today, Mr. Biggs?” I tugged at my skirt as I stood up, in an attempt to lengthen it a bit.

“There are quite a few things that come to mind,” Mr. Biggs said while walking toward me. He grabbed my hand, then whispered in my ear, “When are you gonna stop playing hard to get? A little Southern beauty like you should be getting spoiled, not working hard every day as some little old bank branch manager.”

My stomach turned as I felt the heat from Mr. Biggs’s breath on my forehead. That sensation along with the combined scent of Doublemint gum and Prada cologne really made me want to vomit.

“Daddy, Daddy.” Mr. Biggs’s moment of sexual harassment was interrupted by his kids running into my office.

“Hey, Jaden. Hi, Kaylyn!” I happily greet them.

“Hi, Ms. Johnson!” They rushed into my arms, greeting me with big hugs.

“What’s going on in here?” Maria walked in with the same rude demeanor she had on a daily basis. I couldn’t figure out if she was just a miserable person or if she had a personal vendetta against me.

“Nothing, sweetheart, just discussing some last-minute business transactions with Ms. Johnson,” Mr. Biggs lied.

“Looks like a little more than talking was going on from where I was standing,” Maria said, eyeing Mr. Biggs. Then she directed her attention to me. “Are you hard of hearing, darling? Otherwise I don’t understand why you must be so close to my man when he’s speaking to you.”

More like your man is all up on me, bitch, I said in my head, but wouldn’t dare let that type of language come out of my mouth. I was much too classy to stoop to Maria’s level. I chose to ignore her comment, and turned toward Mr. Biggs. “Is there anything else you need today, Mr. Biggs? Was everything taken care of for you” I asked.

“Everything is fine, Ms. Johnson,” he replied. “As ususal,” he leaned in and whispered to me when he noticed Maria was distracted with Kaylyn.

“Well, let’s head to dinner. I’ve got reservations for us downtown. Come on, kids,” Maria snapped, getting back to Mr. Biggs and me.

“Bye, Ms. Johnson!” the kids said in unison.

“Wait a minute. Don’t forget your candy. You know Ms. Johnson always gives you candy.” The kids rushed over to get their lollipops.

“After dinner.” Maria snatched the candy from the kids’ hands and they all headed out the door.

I was happy to see Mr. Biggs and Maria leave, but each time I saw those little rug rats they grew on me more and more. They were the only pleasurable part of Mr. Biggs and Maria’s weekly visits. It was sad they had such a horrible person as a mother. It’s against everything I know as a Christian to talk about people, but, truth be told, I didn’t have anything nice to say about that woman. It took everything in me not to curse her out each time Maria’s snobbish behind walked in the bank, with her nose in the air looking down on everybody like she’s better than us. It’s only by God’s grace that her kids hadn’t turned out like her. They’re so cute and well mannered. I always looked forward to seeing them every week.

It was obvious Maria didn’t like me, but I guess when your man is always with another woman, you would have to be on the defensive. On the other hand, if the cheating was that bad for Maria, she could have left him a long time ago. Rumor had it, Jaden and Kaylyn weren’t Mr. Biggs’s kids anyway, so she could easily have left without any ties. I guess to some women, money was all worth it. It was customary for Mr. Biggs to flirt and make passes at women in the bank while Maria wasn’t looking, or especially if she wasn’t around, but sometimes he was bold enough to do it practically right in front of her. He’s the kind of man who just won’t take no for an answer.

My secretary buzzed not even five minutes after Mr. Biggs and Maria had walked out of my office. “Ms. Johnson, the tellers need you up front.”

“Mrs. Biggs, unfortunately, our shipment is running late. I won’t have those brand new hundreds for you for the next hour. As an alternative, I can get you brand new fifty dollar bills,” I heard my lead teller say as I walked up.

“I’ve been coming in the branch every week at 4:00 P.M. with the same request. This isn’t anything new. I want my hundreds. And I want them now,” Maria demanded as she looked me up and down while clenching her Chanel purse.

For the next ten minutes, she gave me a lecture about how much she and Mr. Biggs had invested with the bank, as though they were our only big clients. Believe me, we had other clients with much more than Mr. Biggs. As my temples tightened, I decided to call another branch. Fortunately, they had those precious brand new hundreds Maria so desperately needed.

“I’m going to have to go to another branch to get the money for you, Maria. It will take me about thirty minutes. Is that okay?” I asked, hoping she would decline my offer since she had dinner plans.

“You’re ruining my dinner plans, but I will wait. I’m sending you to teach you a lesson. I’m sure the next time you will be prepared,” Maria barked.

I didn’t respond as I walked out of the bank. My assistant manager and I drove to the other branch. When we returned, Maria made me personally count each bill into her hand. I developed a terrible migraine from the fiasco, and decided to go home. I quickly straightened my desk and packed up my things, then headed out the door.

“Smile, baby girl. It can’t be that bad.” I looked up to see a familiar face. I instantly recognized the little cutie I’d met the night before. He was passing by as I was heading out the door.

“Yes, it is.” I nodded smiling.

“Aw. You need a hug, sweetheart?” The cleaning guy smiled, showing his perfect pearly whites.

“I need a hug, foot rub, and an Excedrin,” I vented.

“Don’t you have a man to do all that for you?” he asked right away.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business. But if you must know, yes, I do have a man,” I replied, even though I was lying through my teeth. I was not about to admit how alone and desperately single I really was. Shoot, I wished I did have a man to go home to on tiring days like today.

“I know you’re lying, but it’s cool.” He smirked, “I can afford to give you that hug now, but I’m gonna have to owe you that foot rub.”

“Nothing is this world is free. What are you going to expect in return?” I quickly responded, knowing the business of give and take.

“You won’t owe me anything. You’ve already paid me with your smile. I really needed to have a beautiful woman smile at me today, so you can say we’ll be even. Your smile will carry until tomorrow. Problem is, what am I gonna do when I need my next fix?” He gave me a mischievous smile, then continued, “I’m gonna need to see you every morning for that.”

“And how do you plan on making that happen?” I asked, curious to hear how this guy would respond. His words were so corny, but his swagger was adorable.

“Well, I was thinking. You could give me your number. Then give me your address. Then I’ll stop by every morning, give you a call, and tell you I’m outside. Then you could just stick your head out the window and smile.” We both burst out in laughter. This guy was hilarious!

“I can’t give you my address, but I will take your number.” Although I knew deep inside that I had no intention of calling this guy, there was no way I could tell him no. He was so sweet and charming. After all, he did put a smile on my face.

“Okay. What’s the number?” I pulled out my BlackBerry Curve, and entered his number as he called out each digit.

“What’s your name, baby girl?” he asked.

“Tanisha. And yours?”

“Breeze.”

“Breeze?” I giggled. I could only imagine where such a name came from.

“Yep,” he said proudly, like he wasn’t ashamed to have such a foolish nickname.

“Okay, Breeze. You have a good evening.” I wrapped up our conversation.

“You do the same,” he replied.

After a few steps, I heard a call. “Yo, Tanisha!”

I turned around to see Breeze standing with his arms wide open. “You forgot your hug!”

Although it was tempting, I didn’t go around hugging perfect strangers, so I politely declined. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine. Maybe next time.”