Chapter 7: The Chosen One
The day had finally come.
The day I would lose my virginity had arrived and I was handling it with all the grace and composure you would expect from a twenty one year old woman who had thrown up three times before even leaving the house.
In my defense I think it was the full body mud wrap from the spa the day before. It had a bit of an odor. That is my story and I am absolutely sticking with it.
I had gone through the full grooming regiment. Spa day. Hair. Makeup. Wardrobe. I had trimmed the hedge, which hurt like an absolute son of a bitch and I want that on the record. I looked perfect from head to toe. I was terrified from head to toe. Both things were true simultaneously.
I walked out into the humid night sky. The sun was setting and the clouds were doing that thing where the whole sky turns orange and beautiful and you feel like the universe is putting on a show just for you. Ben stood outside the car with the door open, smiling from ear to ear like a proud father dropping his daughter off at prom.
"Good evening Suga," he said.
"Good evening Ben," I said, stepping into the car sideways because the heels were the highest I had ever worn in my life and the dress was short enough that one wrong move would introduce me to the whole street. I was not about to do that.
The ride was quiet for the first ten minutes. I was staring out the window clutching my water bottle from the built in fridge like it was a life raft.
"So are you ready?" Ben asked.
"I hope so. My nerves are trying to get the best of me."
"Have you ever been to a play or a movie?" he asked, which was not at all the question I was expecting.
"Yes, but Ben you missed your turn," I said, looking out the back window.
"Plans have changed. So has the destination."
"Oh," I said. Because what else do you say to that.
"What I am saying," he continued, with the patient energy of a man who had learned long ago to just keep talking until young people caught up, "is that if you are nervous, pretend to play a different part. Go in there as the woman you always wanted to be. You want to run a hospital one day? Go in there as the most dominant person in the room. You want to rule the world? Take that confidence in with you. You do not have to be scared. Be the best version of Cadence. Just do not lose yourself in the process."
I turned that over in my mind for the rest of the ride. Ben had a way of making things sound simple that were not simple at all. But he was not wrong. I had already decided I would not overthink this. I would take what Evan had taught me and use it. I would scope the situation out first. I would be present. I would not throw up again.
Ben pulled up to a private airstrip. A small jet was waiting.
I looked at the jet. I looked at Ben. He opened my door with that same smile.
I stepped out, walked toward the plane and told myself that rich and powerful women boarded private jets all the time without their hearts trying to exit through their throats. I was going to be one of those women tonight.
When I arrived on the island my date for the evening was already standing and waiting. Polo shirt. Blue jeans. Barefoot. He had trimmed his hair since I last saw him and he looked absolutely scrumptious. For an older man he looked so much younger in the soft island light.
"Welcome Cadence," he said, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek and escorting me inside. "Welcome to my little piece of paradise. I hope you do not mind that I changed the plans a little. I thought we could both relax and enjoy each other’s company."
"I am excited to be here," I said. And I was. I was also quietly telling myself not to throw up. Do not throw up Cadence. Not now.
He led me into the great room. The large patio doors were open and the ocean breeze came through immediately, cooling me down in more ways than one. He gestured for me to sit and moved a stray hair from my face with a gentleness that caught me off guard.
"I think I like this look on you," he said.
I looked into his soft grey eyes and smiled. His blond curly hair was perfectly in place. He had just shaved and his skin looked impossibly soft. I wanted to touch his cheek but I resisted. We were not there yet.
"I thought we could have dinner first," he said. "What do you say?"
"Sounds wonderful. I am starving."
"Good. I made my famous shrimp scampi in a white wine sauce."
Anything with seafood was my weakness and he had somehow already known that. The table was set with china plates and gold trimmed wine glasses and we ate in a comfortable silence that surprised me. I had expected awkward. I had braced for awkward. This was not awkward.
When we finished he pulled my chair out and led me to the balcony outside the living room. Two lounge chairs faced the Atlantic Ocean. Stars were out in full. The breeze moved through my hair and he sat down and guided me to sit between his legs and I let him.
"I have a question for you," he said quietly.
"Go ahead."
"Why did you choose me? Every man in that room was competing for your attention. Some were richer. Some were younger. Why me when you could have had any of them?"
I turned around to look at him properly.
"I chose you because I felt the most comfortable with you. You were the first one to ask me to dance. You were the first one who wanted to kiss me in a crowded room and stopped himself out of respect. So I wanted you to be the first to really have me, the way a man should have a woman. You made me feel something and when I looked in your eyes that night I saw something else."
"What did you see?"
"Loneliness," I said. "I have felt that way so many times. In high school. In college. Being biracial has never been easy. No one group wants to fully claim you. My parents are gone and I am raising two teenage girls on my own. It has not been simple. But somehow I keep getting through it. Maybe we were supposed to meet. Maybe we can both take just a little of that loneliness away from each other tonight."
I could feel the tears coming before I could stop them. He reached up and wiped the one that fell with the pad of his finger.
"Close your eyes," he said softly. "Make a wish and blow the tear away."
I closed my eyes and thought hard about what I actually wanted. Not what I needed. Not what made financial sense. What I wanted.
I opened my eyes and he blew the tear from his finger like it was a wish on a dandelion.
"I promise I will try to live up to your expectations," he said. "And if at any point you are not comfortable, you promise to tell me."
I swallowed. I looked at him and I knew in my heart I had chosen correctly.
"I will," I said.
We sat like that for a few more minutes, both of us looking at the moon over the Atlantic like we had all the time in the world.
Then he whispered in my ear.
"Are you ready?"
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