Читать книгу Visible Lives: - Terrance Dean - Страница 13

My assistant had the daunting task of locating the summer intern for our department. I entrusted her with locating someone who would be perfect for us.

I needed someone with a desire and interest in television production. I wanted someone who knew and understood they would be working hard and it wouldn’t be a cake walk.

I also needed someone who was smart.

Quick.

A fast thinker.

And definitely black.

I am about helping young black brothers and sisters make it in this business. It’s a beast in the entertainment industry and there are definitely not too many of us at the top. We are few and far between. The entertainment business is ninety percent who you know and ten percent what you know.

I made it to the top because I have three things:

The first two are tenacity and drive.

The third is I attended Vanderbilt University with Charles Goldstein, the son of the President of GBS Television.

Charles Goldstein and I were roommates the first two years of college and became good friends. We are both from New York City. But, Charles is from the Upper East Side and I am from Brooklyn.

Two very vastly different worlds.

He is rich.

I was not.

However, we shared the bond of having the world’s epicenter of fashion and culture as our home.

Charles knew I wanted to work in television and he convinced his father to give me an internship with GBS Television my junior year. By the time I graduated I was offered a full-time position as the department assistant in production events. I worked hard, but having the president of the company as a friend, well, let’s just say it has helped a hell of a lot.

When my assistant informed me she found the perfect candidate, I let her know it was her decision to hire them.

I had no idea it would be Quincy Thornberry.

Quincy’s credentials are impressive.

Well, no, that’s an understatement.

They are stellar.

I have never seen a young person so eager and passionate about pursuing a career in television as Quincy.

He knows what he wants and where he wants to go. Something that’s very hard to find in young people today.

A native New Yorker, from Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, Quincy is entering his senior year at Stanford University. He is a film and television major. He earned a full academic scholarship and is on the dean’s list with a three-point-eight grade point average.

He plays basketball and is quite impressive on the court. He brought in his portfolio with all his accomplishments. There were several Los Angeles Times newspaper clippings about his impressive basketball skills.

When he strolls into my office on the first day of his internship I lose my breath.

Literally, I gasp.

He is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. He stands six-feet-four—pure muscle. Quincy has the face sculpted to perfection like that of model/actor Boris Kodjoe. He is the deep rich chocolate color of actor Morris Chestnut, and exudes the sexiness of Blair Underwood. His voice is like that of Barry White, but with a heavy Brooklyn accent.

“Hello, Mr. Kennedy. My name is Quincy Thornberry,” he says as he extends his massive right hand to shake mine. His voice sinks into my head. It moves and shakes everything in me when he speaks my name.

My.

My.

My.

It feels good to touch a man.

A fine-ass black man.

“Hello, Mr. Quincy Thornberry,” I reply. My knees buckle. My heart races as I glide from behind my desk. “Welcome to GBS Television and to production events.”

“I am looking forward to learning a lot from you. I am very excited to be in your department. I Googled everything about you.” He smiles enthusiastically.

He took the time to Google me. Wow, I am impressed.

“Good, good, Quincy. There is a lot to learn and you only have a few months.” I smile. I need to remain professional. I keep reminding myself he is a college student. A young man here for the summer as an intern. There is to be no attraction.

None whatsoever.

No matter how fine he is.

“I am sure my assistant Alicia has shown you around the office.” I stare into his dark brown eyes. They smile when he smiles. They are inviting and enticing.

I am sure he has a girlfriend or three, I think. He’s definitely a player. He’s on the basketball team.

“Yes. I have met everyone in the department. You were the last person I had to meet.”

“Well, we are glad to have you here with us,” I say, tearing my gaze away. I feel his eyes are piercing into my soul. Or, maybe it’s my imagination.

I begin walking toward my office door. There is a brief silence. That uncomfortable silence when two people are on a date and neither can think of anything to say. I start biting my bottom lip.

“We still on for lunch?” He smiles, revealing his big white teeth. Damn, even his teeth are perfect. Does he have any imperfections?

I surely don’t remember making lunch plans with an intern, especially not with Quincy. I must look confused because he quickly speaks, interrupting my thoughts.

“The schedule that your assistant Alicia gave me says that I am to have lunch with you.” He points at the itinerary in his hands.

“Oh, is that today?” I ask. Forgetting everything. Losing all train of thought.

“I know you are very busy, Mr. Kennedy. If you can’t make it…” A disappointed look sweeps across his face.

“No, no, it’s no problem at all. I just completely forgot about it,” I interject. I am, yet again, lost in his gaze. I reach over and delicately touch him on his left arm. His huge muscular bicep flexes at my touch. A shiver shoots through my spine and into my groin.

“Cool, I can’t wait to have lunch with you. I have so many questions.” He grins with those succulent kissable thick lips.

“Great,” I say. “I’ll meet you in the elevator bank at one-thirty.” My entire body smiles and I feel my dick becoming erect. Just give me the strength, Jesus. Just give me the strength, I silently say to myself.