Big Daddy Sinatra: There Was a Ruthless Man(19)

“Not to them. I’m graduating from a two-year trade school, in essence, when they expected me to graduate from an Ivy League school the way they had. My mother said it best: ‘It’s not as if you’re graduating from med school or law school, or even a real college.’” Jenay then smiled.

Charles stared at her. If the pain was there, she was masking it well.

“I’m afraid I’ve been a grave disappointment to my folks,” she said. “Everything they wanted me to do, I did the opposite.”

“You sound like my sons.”

She laughed. “They told me to stay clear of my ex-husband,” she continued, “but I wouldn’t listen. They told me that if I had to have him, at least go to college first and get a degree. Do me, was how my mother put it. But I married him and took to raising his two girls instead. They told me to never rely on a man as long as I lived. I was twenty-two and relying completely on a man.” Then she hesitated. “I was young and dumb and wouldn’t listen. Point blank period. And I paid for it.”

There was an eerie silence in the room. Charles didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t as if he could wave a wand and her past could be erased. If that were the case, he’d be waving all kinds of wanes at himself. “Econolodge,” he finally said.

Jenay looked at him. Where did that come from? “Excuse me?”

“Go with the Econolodge offer. At least you’ll be a manager there. Motel 6 is only offering you assistant manager. Go with the Econolodge offer.”

Jenay smiled. “I’ll see,” she said.

She was no pushover, which he liked. But they both knew he was lingering. It was long past time for him to go.

He finally stood up. “I’d better go,” he said, and placed his hands in his pockets. Lingering again. “You take care of yourself, Jenay.”

She nodded. “You too, Charlie.”

“Do you need me to drop you off somewhere?”

“No, no thank-you, I’m fine. One of my friends will pick me up. But thanks.”

He wanted to kiss her, and hold her, but what the hell would that prove? But as he turned to leave, he turned back around. Lingering yet again. He couldn’t just leave! “Jenay, maybe we can . . .” Even he had to pull himself back.

“Take care, Charlie,” she said.

But he couldn’t say goodbye. He couldn’t just say goodbye. “Maybe we can get together again sometime,” he said, and suddenly felt as if he was suspended on a hook.

Jenay looked at him. A part of her wished he meant it. He was that straightforward kind of man she would have liked to get to know better. But she had to face the truth. Even if he did want to see her again, it would more than likely be more about seeing her body again than seeing her. And if sex, albeit great sex, was all there was to their relationship, who needed it? She could get sex anywhere. “What good would come of it?” she asked him.

He knew it too. It was a question he definitely couldn’t answer.

“Have a nice day, Charlie,” she said.

Charles actually felt relieved. She got him off the hook. “You too,” he said, and meant it. And then he stopped such fanciful thoughts, and left.

Jenay would have liked a kiss goodbye, and to feel his big, warm arms around her again. And that magical penis of his. She would give a lot to feel that inside of her again. But she was glad he didn’t go there. They had a night. A wonderful night. Nothing more. Nothing less. Get over it, Jenay!

And she did.

She got out of bed, and hopped into the shower.





CHAPTER SEVEN



Seven Weeks Later



They never come alone. Charles stood at the window inside his downtown office and watched Joe Mason and his small son get out of his Mercedes and walk across the sidewalk. A Mercedes, Charles thought. He didn’t pay his mortgage, but he paid that car note. And that was find by Charles. But why did they always run to him when the mortgage was due?

His desk intercom buzzed, as he knew it would, and his secretary announced that Mr. Mason was there to see him.

He told her to send him in, and then he unbuttoned his suit coat, and sat behind his desk. Like the coward Charles took him for, Mason pushed his innocent child out front, as he walked in.

Once the two men spoke, Charles motioned for Mason and son to take a seat.

“You remember my boy, don’t you, Big Daddy?” Mason was smiling when he said that, as if a man like Charles would be swayed by such buttery.

“Yes,” Charles said.

“Say hello to Big Daddy, Mikey,” Mason ordered his son.

“Hey, Big Daddy,” the boy said in a way that reminded him of his own baby boy.

“Still doing good in school?” Charles asked.