Let’s Do It Again
“Okay, everyone, please, please take a seat!” Deja clapped her hands at the noisy cloud of students arriving. She had an auditorium of close to two hundred students and only fifty minutes to introduce her lecture and objectives. The students shuffled about hugging and greeting each other after such a long summer break. “Class! Your seats please!” she called out to them again by cupping her hands like a bullhorn so her voice reached above the noise.
She walked to the whiteboard and removed a marker. She wrote “African-American Studies 101” and her name underneath. She wasn’t due back in the classroom until next quarter, but when she got the call to fill an open slot on the curriculum she’d jumped at the chance. Three weeks of moping in her apartment had been far too long.
When she left the island she had expected him to follow. He had the money and the means. She wanted the courtship. A grand gesture to prove he indeed was her superhero. When she searched every gossip site and blog for updates on his fast lifestyle they came up empty. She even broke down and called her sister who was expected to deliver the baby any day now. Dee told her they hadn’t seen or heard from Jon since the party in Abaco. The game was over.
“My name is Dr. Deja Jones. I want to welcome you all to African-American Studies 101. I have a PhD in psychology and behavioral science. Show of hands for those who have been forced to take this class because they needed an elective?” she asked.
The students exchanged looks but only a few dared to raise their hands. Deja chuckled. “It’s okay. In here we can be honest. We will discuss everything in this classroom and I will help you separate facts from fiction. Best way to do that is to do away with the stereotypes, the tropes, the myths and prejudices. Now. Anyone care to give me a stereotype for Africans brought to the Americas?”
No one responded.
“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be shy. What is a prevalent stereotype that you hear about African-Americans?”
A hand went up. She pointed at the girl in the center of the room. “Go ahead.”
“Black people are lazy,” she said.
Deja nodded. “That is a nasty generalization. One of the worst. And it’s evolved within American culture all the way back to the colonial years of settlement. If any of you have read the teachings of Dr. Patricia A. Turner she explores at length the origins of stigma in pop culture. In this class we’ll delve into the cultural influence and achievements of people of color in America. From the teachings of Marcus Garvey, to the love of the n-word in your favorite rap songs. We’ll cover it all. So those of you who were forced into taking an elective you should be happy you chose the right one.”
Several students clapped.
Deja smiled. She turned to the whiteboard.
“What about black women!” a man called out.
She paused and looked back to the class. “Who said that?”
A hand went up to the back of the classroom. She tried to see the person’s face and could not. The man wore a baseball cap pulled low to his brow.
“Okay? Do you have something to add?”
“Yes. What about the stereotype of black women?”
“Which stereotype are we speaking of?” she asked.
The class went silent. No one dared speak. Deja squinted to get a good look at the student.
“I hear they aren’t really popular in the dating game. Last to marry. You know the statistics and stuff.”
“Aha? Statistics?” Deja felt her anger rise. She had opened the can of worms on stereotypes so she couldn’t very well get defensive now. But there was always one student in every class that aggravated her nerves.
“Black women being unwed is a very exaggerated generalization when you hold these studies up to the divorce rate amongst all women,” she said, preferring not to go any deeper. She turned back to the board.
“Really? So are you? Are you married, professor?”
Several students turned around in their seats to see who spoke. Deja, too, was caught by surprise. She again stepped away from the white board.
“That is not open for discussion!” she said.
“I’m curious.”
“I said—”
“Because I don’t believe it, Doc,” he said over her objection. The man who spoke stood from his seat. Deja dropped the marker from her hand. He stepped out of the back aisle seat and turned his baseball cap backward so she could see him. Jon wore jeans and a white-collar shirt. He started down the stairs toward her. “I believe in what I know.”
“And what is it the great Jon Hendrix thinks he knows?” she replied.
“I know that a woman as special as you deserves a ring.”
“This is my class,” she said. “Don’t do this here. Please.”
The eyes of her students were focused on them. She felt their curious stares. Heard the silent whispers. Instead of giving her space he stepped closer. He stood directly in front of her. “Don’t do this. I could get in trouble,” she pleaded.
He looked her over. Deja bent down to check herself. She was wearing a very conservative blazer over a dark blue silk shirt and matching slacks. Nothing about her resembled the exotic flair of the women she believed he courted. Still his gaze roamed over her in appreciation as if he found her nude. And he touched her. His hand grazed her cheek. “Trouble?” he asked.
She nodded.
“You’re already in trouble. Nowhere to run to, Doc. So what are you going to do now?”
“I—”
“Don’t fight me.”
“Jon.”
“Don’t fight me,” he said softly.
She looked beyond him to her students and then back up into his eyes.
“Why don’t we make a few new stereotypes of our own?”
Deja laughed. She dropped her head, smiling. “Where have you been? It’s been weeks and you haven’t called. No one has heard from you.”
“Moving,” he smiled.
“Huh?” He had her attention. She stepped to him. She put her hands at his waist before she realized it. “Moving where?”
“After your class is over I’ll tell you everything,” he whispered in her ear. Before he turned to walk away she grabbed his sides to keep him with her.
He looked at her with a question in his eyes. It was now or never. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. She wanted him to know that she did want a do-over. She wanted the messy risks, and the soul-endearing rewards that a girl found with new love.
“What is it, Doc?” He lifted her chin and looked directly into her eyes. “Say it.”
Deja cleared her throat. “You told me that everything between us always starts with a kiss?” she whispered up to him as her gaze zeroed in on his lips.
He nodded.
“Then kiss me, Mr. Hendrix.”
“Aren’t you afraid?” he drawled.
She arched a brow. “Of who? You?”
He chuckled. “Of having an audience. Everyone will see you, and they’ll judge you. Make assumptions about us both.”
Deja looked around his arm and saw a couple of students with their cell phones trained on them, filming their reunion. She didn’t care.
“Try me,” she said to Jon.
Slowly he drew her up in his arms until she was standing on her toes in her four-inch heels. He turned them sideways in a fluid movement so the class could get a good look at them. Deja’s excitement was so intense she didn’t know how she managed to suppress a squeal of delight. She lifted her arms to hold him. The class applauded. A few whooped at them. The noise was as thunderous as her heart. The kiss was a beginning. A new one. She didn’t care about perfection or what others thought. She didn’t care about the statistics. All she cared about was that moment. And that man. Her man. His tongue swept in and hers melted around it. She went weak in his arms as he kissed her deeply and she dug her nails into broad shoulders when she lost the ability to breathe. He tore his mouth from hers and she smiled up at him.
“I’ll meet you after class,” he whispered in her ear. She let him go and stumbled back as he turned and walked out. Deja laughed and shook her head, smiling. How the hell would she get through the rest of the day?
* * *
The New York midday blared with the noise of traffic. The weather was crisp and the sky clear of clouds. Jon waited. He watched the front of the building with growing impatience as students and professors came and went. His hopes for a quick and exciting reunion were dashed when it dawned on him he’d have to wait for her to finish her day. At first he circled the campus. When the wait became too long he parked illegally and prayed he’d didn’t caught. He’d spent weeks preparing for this day and he’d wait even longer to have her again. However, each passing minute felt like torture.
After a while, Deja walked out the front doors. She glanced left and right with her curly locks swept across her face from the wind. Jon smiled. He expected her to dress sensibly considering her job as a college professor. Yet Deja was the kind of woman that could make a plain shirt and slacks sexy. Before she spotted him he observed her beauty and recommitted himself to his mission. The past few days without her had taught him a lot. He wanted a woman who challenged him and made him a stronger and better man. Dr. Deja Jones was one of a kind.
Soon her gaze landed on him. Her eyes were wide and sparkling with expectation. Deja approached with her laptop bag on her shoulder and her eyes never leaving him. He greeted her once more with a kiss.
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long. I had to get through class and then wrap up a few things.”
“Get in,” he said.
“In?” she asked. She glanced behind him to the car he leaned on. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere private. We need to talk.” He reached and opened the door. She kissed his lips and then got inside. He closed the door and went around to get in on the driver side. His sports car only sat two. Once inside the car he felt a sense of calm. He’d rehearsed this moment over in his head for weeks.
“What’s with all the mystery?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t call it mystery,” he said. “How about we say adventure?”
“Adventure? Oh, really?” she said, laughing. “You show up in my class after close to two months and then...”
“And then what?” he asked.
“And I want to know why now. It’s been weeks, Jon,” she said.
He nodded. It was a fair question. He gazed ahead as he navigated through traffic. “Back in Abaco, what I did, I...”
“Don’t apologize again. It was my fault for jumping to conclusions. Hell, I even caused the accident,” she said.
He glanced over to her. “I wasn’t going to apologize. I’m not sorry for it. The time we spent together. I’ve had women, lovers, some of them even friends, but never anyone like you, Deja.”
She glanced away and a nervous smile flickered across her lips. Jon returned his eyes to the road. “You told me that I should earn your trust. That’s why I didn’t call you at first. I needed to get my head together.” He let out a deep sigh. “And my life.”
“I checked the blog sites, the news stations, the gossip pages of magazines and you weren’t in any of them. I called my sister and they said they hadn’t heard from you,” she said. He felt a profound sense of relief. She’d been looking for him, waiting for him. She hadn’t given up on him. He’d feared that he’d return to her and she would have moved on. Or worse she wouldn’t care to start over with him. That was why he’d taken the risky move of showing up in her class, forcing her to give him another undeserved chance.
They settled into silence. He drove past the speed limit, anxious for the conversation to continue in a more private way. And for whatever reason she didn’t question him. She let him lead the way.
After a twenty-minute drive they arrived at his condo. He drove in through the garage and parked in his private space.
“This is your place?” she asked.
“It is,” he said. He refused to give away any other information. He helped her from the car and walked her through the garage to the private resident elevator. She held his hand and stood at his side in silence. Jon inhaled the delicious provocative fragrance of her skin. When they left the elevator and reached his door he paused outside of it.
Deja glanced up at him and then to the door. Jon turned and faced her. He liked the way she met his stare now with bold confidence. Gone was the shy uncertainty between them. “I’ve relocated my offices, my life, to here,” he said.
She glanced to the closed door and he turned her chin to bring her gaze back to him. “I’ve missed you, Deja. I intend to spend every day that I can to show you how much.” He brushed his lips across her cheek. “You bring out the best in me, Doc,” he said against her ear. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. Jon only released her embrace to open the door. He held it for her to enter. His breath was tight in his lungs, and his palms clammy with nervous sweat.
The natural lighting from the open windows cast few shadows about the space. But the rose petals that led a trail into the spacious living room were clearly evident. Deja glanced back at him and then continued on. Inside the room were several vases of roses and pedestals of candles that had yet to be lit. She stopped and turned to him.
Jon tossed his keys into the candy dish and came in behind her. “I wish I could have done this at your place, but I had to improvise.”
“What is all of this?”
“Dinner, conversation, a chance to get to know each other again,” he said. He blew out his breath and glanced around. This place wasn’t like his other residences. This was him. He had a few sports memorabilia pieces on the wall and hardly any furniture. In fact, the roses gave his condo an appeal he hadn’t seen since he had moved in.
Deja removed her laptop bag’s strap from her arm and dropped it to the sofa. “Jon. We don’t have to start again.”
“You sure about that, Doc? We didn’t part on the best of terms.”
“We parted on my terms. I’m willing to come together again on yours.”
Jon narrowed his eyes on her. He wasn’t sure he heard her right. But the smile to her lips said he might have. She then removed her blazer and tossed it. Jon watched her, transfixed by her beautiful smile. Deja approached him. When she stood before him she reached and took his baseball cap from his head and tossed it aside.
“I’ve been waiting to touch you all day,” he said. He moved his hands up her curvaceous ass and hips. They glided up her back and he drew her in. His lips bore down on hers hard and punishing. Gone was the tender greeting they’d shared earlier. He had rehearsed it in his head. They’d sit by the window and he’d pour out his soul. Tell her his fears, his dreams. Tell her that he wanted a life that wasn’t filled with all the fake baubles of wealth that were spoils from his famous clients. But with Deja he never could find the words. It was when he kissed her that his heart was open and revealed.
“We should talk,” he reasoned between licks and kisses to her mouth.
“Too long...it’s been too long,” she panted returning his kisses. “Talk later,” she said as she loosened his belt. Jon swallowed hard. When his mouth met hers again he felt all his senses come alive. Her lips were soft, succulent and her breasts crushed against his chest. Deja released his belt and lowered his zipper. Her hand soon glided into his boxers and she stroked his erection. Jon groaned with his tongue darting in and out of her mouth. Before he knew it, he had her by the ass and was carrying her to his sectional sofa.
When they both crashed on top of the sofa Jon pulled back. He rested his forehead against hers, dragging in deep breaths to calm himself. “Sex with us is so good, Deja. I don’t want to mess this up. We should wait.”
“Jon, look at me,” she touched his face. He lifted his gaze from her lips to her eyes. “I don’t want anything or anyone but you. It’s already too good between us for me to deny it. I’m yours.”
A sly smile crossed his face. “Stay here, with me. Move in.”
He expected her to reject the offer. After all they hadn’t seen each other in months. He hadn’t given her the list of reasons why. He hadn’t done all the things a woman as special as her deserved. He was fast-forwarding to the end.
“Okay,” she said, snapping him out of his doubts.
“You’re moving in?” he asked.
Deja chuckled. “I told you. I’m never leaving again.”
Jon smiled. “Damn, woman. You keep blowing my mind.”
* * * * *
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