A Love of My Own by E. Lynn Harris

Raymond would be insulted by my referring to him as a boy.
    â€œTrue and true,” Raymond said.
    I breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn’t offended my new boss. “I’m from Nashville,” I said.
    â€œI know. Davis gave me a copy of your bio,” Raymond said.
    â€œWhy am I not surprised,” I said.
    â€œZola, I don’t really want to talk a lot of business over our little picnic. The two of us are going to be working pretty closely together, and I want to get to know the real Zola. Not the magazine editor or the person in the bio,” Raymond said as he took a seat and opened the basket and the scent of the meat became stronger. It reminded me of my parents’ kitchen when they had just brought meat from the grill on holidays or summer evenings when Daddy had a taste for beef.
    â€œSounds good, although I’ll tell you, I’ve never had a picnic before like this in my career,” I said.
    â€œWhat was your relationship with the guy who had my job before me?” Raymond asked as he pulled a plastic container from the basket that looked like it held coleslaw.
    â€œSeth and I really didn’t have a relationship. He was Davis’s right-hand man, but he was too weak and let Davis literally drive him crazy. Maybe it wasn’t Davis but his wife and girlfriend,” I said, laughing. I didn’t know why, but I felt totally comfortable talking with Raymond. I looked over at him and scrutinized his face. His smooth skin glowed like a warm stick of butter, and his eyes were a startling shade of grass green.
    â€œYou’re kidding, right?”
    â€œAbout Seth?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI wish I was. Everybody in the office knew he had a mistress, and sometimes she would come up to the office when he thought everyone was gone. He let this job and Davis get to him. Mr. McClinton’s shadow can be cold and overpowering. There are some stories I could tell you, but I’ll wait until I get to know you better,” I said.
    â€œWould you like both baked beans and coleslaw?” Raymond asked.
    â€œSure. It looks good. Did black folks make this?” I asked.
    â€œI’m not sure. I took a peek at the ribs and they looked like they’d pass the Slap-Yo-Mama’s test,” Raymond said, smiling. He was wearing a starched white shirt with a rose-red tie with a thin strip of royal blue. I noticed a navy blue pinstriped suit coat on a hanger over the door that led to the private bathroom and shower, which I had actually used when the office had been empty while Davis found a replacement for Seth.
    â€œWhat kind of wine is this,” I said as I picked up the bottle and read something in French. I thought about Davis and how pompous he sounded when he ordered in French.
    â€œA very nice French Merlot. Can I pour you a glass?” Raymond asked.
    â€œSure, but just a little corner. I got a lot of work waiting on my desk,” I said.
    Raymond walked over to the bar area and picked up a corkscrew and then went back over to the table, where he opened the wine. He smelled the cork and then poured a little taste in my glass like we were at an expensive restaurant.
    I took a sip and enjoyed the dry fruity taste.
    â€œHow is it?”
    â€œWonderful,” I said.
    â€œI’m glad the lady approves,” Raymond said as he poured me half a glass and about the same into his and sat down and gave me a polite smile. I guess the no cocktail rule was made to be broken.
    â€œSo what do you want to know about me?”
    â€œWho came up with the name
Bling Bling
?”
    â€œI tell you, it wasn’t me. Davis came up with it. I hate the name, but Davis thought that young kids spend more money on music and the products we advertise in the magazine. I guess I’ve gotten used to it. What do you think of it?”
    â€œIt’s different,” Raymond answered quickly.
    â€œSo is that the only business question? Nothing about