Stories By Mi'Chelle: The Professor

In Bel Air, Marquess headed home after leaving the condo of a very special woman of his own. That woman was Paula Jackson, a fellow lawyer that he not only admired on a professional level, but who stirred his loins more than any woman he’d ever met.

Marquess met the Hispanic/African-American beauty back in law school. There was an instant attraction between them. Sparks flew every time they were in the same room. Most onlookers deemed it only a matter of time before they sealed the deal.

Unfortunately for Marquess, Paula wouldn’t give him the time of day on a romantic level. He was too much of a ladies man even then. Too much of a heartbreak risk.

Paula was too serious about her life goals to ever hook up with a playboy. She had too many righteous missions to complete in the Hispanic and African-American communities of Los Angeles, unlike her older cousin Sasha, who was/is a socialite to the bone. Incidentally, Sasha is the same cousin that went on to marry Marquess’ oldest brother Duke…twice. The women’s kinship stemmed from their Puerto Rican mothers.

Yet for all of Paula’s seriousness, for all of her aversion to Marquess’ hedonistic ways, she finally gave herself to him the night they graduated. Boy did she ever.

It all started with a drink.

Paula arrived at Marquess’ graduation party late that night. He was surprised she’d come at all considering the fact that she hadn’t attended any of his previous parties, though she’d been invited to each and every one of them. Had it not been for Sasha’s crush on Duke, which prompted her to beg her cousin to take her to that party, Paula might have blown Marquess off again.

Deciding to seize the moment while he could, Marquess greeted Paula at the door and promptly offered her a glass of champagne in celebration of their accomplishment. After all, she’d graduated earlier that day, too.

One drink led to another. Soon a whole bottle of champagne had been consumed and they were halfway through another.

With the kind of false courage that only alcohol can give, Marquess leaned in to kiss Paula in the middle of a lively discussion on torts. When she did not pull away and/or slap his face in protest, he deepened the kiss. Soon they were openly trying to devour each other.

Many were astonished to see Paula so uninhibited. She was usually so reserved. But in light of the mutual attraction that had been brewing for years between the two lawyers, no one made a big deal of that kissing fest. Plus, everyone was too busy enjoying themselves to really care what anyone else was doing or not doing.

When kisses ceased to be enough to satisfy them, Marquess led Paula to his private bedroom. Locking the door behind him, he thought he was about to deflower a virgin or at least teach an inexperienced woman a few things about making love.

Wrong.

The second that door locked, Paula literally attacked him. Marquess didn’t know if he was coming or going as she taught him a few things about making love. More than a few things.

Keeping her stiletto boots on the whole time, Paula showed Marquess how serious she could be in the bedroom, too. Even now he moaned from the memory of all the things she did to him that night. Things that no other woman had been able to match since.

That blissful night, Marquess went to sleep with a big smile on his face and the love of his life in his arms. Unfortunately for him, he woke up alone. Paula had left some time during the early morning hours.

When Marquess sought her out in hopes that they could turn last night into the beginnings of a real romantic relationship, she turned him down flat. Said that she could never get serious with a guy like him. Said that he should consider their time together as one of his regular one-nighters.

Marquess was devastated. Yet his arrogance wouldn’t allow it to show on the outside. In order to prove how quickly he could bounce back from Paula’s rejection, he started dating a paralegal named Fran the very next week.

The two women were almost the exact opposite in every way.

Paula was outgoing and feisty with black hair, brown eyes, olive skin and a voluptuous figure. Fran was a timid beauty with red hair, green eyes, fair skin, and a shapely slender frame that was neither too big nor too small. Fran was also comfortable being a housewife whereas Paula wanted to be out there on the frontlines doing her part to right grievous wrongs in society.

And yet it was Paula that Marquess craved every night, even on his honeymoon. It was the pain of not having her that drove him to eventually start cheating on Fran, though he vowed to be a faithful husband. It was Paula that he sought out when his divorce became final yesterday.

Although Marquess knew he was wrong for cheating on Fran and even felt guilty about it, he deemed her greedy for attaching such a high dollar figure to her pain. A figure that was in direct violation of the pre-nup she’d willingly signed while they were engaged.

Yet when Fran told their lawyers about Marquess’ double diagnosis and about how she thought she should be compensated for the years his cheating put her health in jeopardy, there was little he could do but grant her request. Not even his counter argument that he contracted those STDs months after they stopped being intimate was effective.

To this day Marquess still didn’t know how Fran found out about his diagnosis. Duke, his primary care physician, was bound by law not to reveal such things. Baron claimed to have only told the owner of the strip club in an attempt to act responsibly. And yet one of them must have slipped up with Fran. But which one?

Last night, Paula offered Marquess a listening ear and all the Mexican food he could eat as he expressed his guilt about Fran, his anger and frustration at his ex-wife’s greed, and his ire towards his brothers for inadvertently betraying him. He didn’t want anything more than that from Paula. Or rather wouldn’t allow himself to want anything else. Not with his diagnosis, which he watered down to include just the disease he’d long since been cured of. He said nothing about the disease that remained.

Marquess valued Paula’s opinion too much to tell her about his lingering diagnosis. Why open himself up for that kind of rejection? He hadn’t fully gotten over her last rejection yet.

Marquess also cared too much for Paula to put her at even the slightest risk. Even when his instincts told him that she was prime pickings for another tryst, he didn’t act on that gut feeling no matter how many times it arose last night. When you love someone you protect them. And he definitely loved Paula.

Marquess came to that realization the moment she opened her front door, saw his grief stricken face, and invited him inside without a question asked. Instead Paula had offered him a comforting hug, some of the tasty dinner she’d just finished cooking, and silence when he was finally ready to share some of his grief.

I need a drink, Marquess suddenly decided, unaware that he’d just gone a full twenty-four hours without one.

Around Paula he hadn’t needed alcohol. Her stimulating presence and lively conversation had kept the blues away. Had made him forget all about his pain, disappointments, and guilt. He’d even forgotten about his herpes diagnosis for awhile as they talked all night and well into the morning. They’d slept fully clothed in each others’ arms until this afternoon.

Unfortunately, that brief smack on the cheek Paula had given him before he left today had stirred his libido to distraction again. Now Marquess craved real kisses and so much more.

I need more, he thought miserably as that familiar glove of loneliness surrounded him and squeezed. And yet I can’t have more…with any woman…especially perfect Paula, Marquess thought, deciding to keep his distance from her for both their sakes.

Pressing down harder on the gas pedal, the despondent man couldn’t get to his favorite bar fast enough.