Chapter One: First Impressions

The beginning is always surprising.

The band, The UpScales, was playing Stormy Weather by Etta James in the background. Charles thought it was a somber song to be performed at such a lively event but their singer, a dark skinned, small woman, no older than the age of thirty five with short curly hair, had a hypnotizing voice. People slowly danced with their torsos tightly pressed together; Men in Gucci and Armani suits who were previously rigid in arrogance were hunched over resting their hands on their female counterparts waists, methodically rocking their bodies back and forth. 

Charles sat at the bar, alone, drinking his Kamikaze with a smirk on his face. He looked down at the almost empty glass he clutched in his tan right hand and thought of the events that made up his day and lead him to the Annual African American Affair. I’m not even black, he mused. Glancing at his Rolex he saw it was 11:37, too early for the party to be winding down. He finished his drink with satisfaction and ordered a replacement. Where the hell is Andre? Charles was becoming impatient and bored; The only thing keeping him entertained was his liquor. With his back facing the entrance, he didn’t notice her walk in.

She walked with a silent, resolute purpose and an air of pretentiousness about her. She wore a lengthy, all black dress with a slit that rose high up her long legs and had a corset bodice that accentuated her voluptuous body. Her dark, coppery brown hair was pinned up with a few curls framing her diamond shaped face, complimenting her high mahogany cheek bones, and drawing attention to her Crystal Tabac eyes. Others saw her as she gracefully walked across the dance floor, already spotting her target. The light from the many impeccable chandeliers that hung from the vast ceiling illuminated her body so that she seemed to glow from within. It was hard not to stare.

She delicately sat beside Charles, careful not to look at him, and ordered a Pomegranate Tanqueray martini. She watched the bartender shake her beverage but she could feel Charles’ eyes on her. She thanked the man as he handed her her drink and he winked back at her in reply. After taking a few sips from her drink, Charles made himself known to her.

“Excuse me,” Charles started, “but you are absolutely captivating.” 

“Thank you,” The alluring woman said.

“Might I ask your name?” The UpScales started playing Misty by Ella Fitzgerald, another sad song he thought

She took another sip of her pink drink before answering, “Reneé.”

Charles smiled his cocky, seductive smile showing his perfect teeth, crinkling lines around his Hazel eyes. He knew she was going to end up in his bed that night, they all do. None of the other females at the party had attracted his attention because he knew they were easy and he liked a challenge. Reneé was his challenge-his goal. She was way too stunning to fall for old lines and someone boasting about their assets, he was sure she had heard it all before. He was going to have to try something different.

“My name is Charles,” .He introduced, “It is pleasure to meet you.” He took her hand and kissed it causing Reneé to giggle. 

When Charles let go of her hand, Reneé grabbed her martini and took another sip. “So, nice party they’re having here, wouldn’t you say?”

“It is now.” Charles smiled flirtatiously and Reneé giggled once more. I have her just where I want her. This is going well. “The music has been pretty melancholy and I’ve had no one to dance with.” 

“Well that’s sad.” She said looking slightly hurt.

“Yes it is, but it looks like my luck has changed. The gods have mercifully sent me a beautiful dancing partner. That is if she would have me as hers.” Charles playfully suggested.

Reneé politely accepted his request and they both sauntered onto the dance floor arm-in-arm. Charles felt confident, like he was the best man at the party. Everyone was staring at him with envy and acrimony. The one white guy gets the best looking girl. How did he even get in here? How stereotypical. At least it’s not a black guy with a white girl this time.

The song switched again but to something upbeat. A man was onstage with the original singer and he was the one who started the song Charles recognized as Baby (You Got What It Takes) by Dinah Washington and Brook Benton. 

“Do you know why they’re playing  old songs?” Charles asked Reneé.

“Each year the party gets a theme dealing with African American history. The theme this year is vintage, although not many dressed the part.” She answered.

Charles thought this made a lot of sense. “So you’ve been to one of these before?”

“Yes, but I take it you haven’t.” Reneé laughed and he slightly blushed. He really was the only white person there. He looked out of place and awkward, but he didn’t seem bothered by his distinction.

The two danced effortlessly, paying no attention to the many stares they received. When the song ended they kept dancing into the next musical number. They made casual conversation as they moved with each other for awhile until Reneé indicated that she wanted to go back to the bar. 

When they sat down Charles ordered her another Martini and himself his fourth Kamikaze. Everything seemed to be going well with the two. The band started playing Strange Fruit by Nina Simone and Reneé was laughing at something funny Charles had said. She kept laughing even when she saw a stout coffee colored man with dreads about thirty feet behind Charles locked eyes with her. 

While laughing she said, “Charles, I must admit you have been more than entertaining tonight.”

“And the twisted mouth..”

“Well I’m glad I could put a smile on your beautiful face.” He told her. By now the man had left and come back with bigger men behind him, walking toward the couple.

“Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck..”

Reneé smiled at him seductively and crossed her legs so that the slit in her dress revealed a glimpse of her black garter. Charles looked, thought he saw a tip of something metal but Reneé caught his gaze. The men were getting close. They both laughed. 

“Here is a strange and bitter crop..”

Reneé pulled out her Beretta and shot Charles point blank in his face.

Author's Note

I thought of this scene and had to write.