Page 28 of Lovers' Dance

Bradston…Brody…Bradley, that was his surname. George had called him Mr Bradley. I brought up Google on my cell and typed in Matthew Bradley. It was the third result. I felt faint, literally felt faint as I read Wikipedia. He was a fucking gazillionaire, his family fortune spanning generations. Oil tycoons that had branched out into corporate businesses all over the world. I stared at my face in the streaked mirror. What the fuck? There was information about his personal life: the socialites he’d been linked with, the models he seduced. A fucking incident in Monaco where he’d crashed his yacht. He hung out with politicians, schmoozed at charity balls where royalty was present. He was the elite of the elitist. A damn gazillionaire who I had let stick his tongue in my private parts and call me poppet. Poppet. I was certain it now meant puppet on a frigging string. Was this some sort of joke? Realization dawned, and I didn’t like the wakeup call.I was his token black fuck.That’s why he was all over me. He wanted to see what it was like to fuck a nigger bitch, then go laughing to his snobby friends about the experience. They were probably laughing at me right now. Him and Nathan. Probably laughing at the way I talked, and acted.Well, fuck him.I was not going to be the token black in this asshole’s life. I stormed out the ladies, fuming. I was supposed to be smart, street-wise. Yet, the idiotic dude, who was a decade older, had played me.Fucking poppet.I’d show him a poppet. I was so mad my hands shook. On my way back to the table some guy stopped me, asking me my name and whether he could buy me a drink. I ignored him, too busy trying to decide whether to punch Matthew Bradley in the face or knee him in the nuts.

He stood up as soon as I got to our table, grey slits of irritation trained on the dude who had stopped me.

“Are you all right, poppet? Was that lad bothering you?”

Fucking poppet.

I reached over to grab my wallet, which I’d left behind on my trip to the ladies. No, I wouldn’t beat the shit out of him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of playing into the stereotypes his kind had—black women are aggressive, ghetto. No, I would be polite and take my leave. Then dance some shit out in the studio. The way I felt right now, I could dance ’til kingdom come and still be pissed.

“Madi.”

“Don’t touch me,” I spat, jerking away from his hand on my arm. “Don’t ever touch me again, Mr Matthew Bradley. You are a disturbed man, a psychotic man who shouldn’t be allowed out in public.”

“What has gotten into you?” he asked, startled by the vehemence on my face. He glanced askance at Nathan, unsure where my anger was coming from. It was polite to clear it up for him. Yes, I would politely tell him to eat shit and die.

“Common sense,” I said coldly. “Common sense has gotten into me. I Googled you. It was weird the way you avoided my question about what you did for a living. I thought you might be a drug dealer, but the truth is a whole lot worse. You’re a gazillionaire.”

Matt’s face had visibly paled when I told him I’d Googled his ass.Ha!The gig was up.

“Madi,” he began, hand reaching out.

“You put that hand on me, and I swear to God I will kick your ass.” I couldn’t maintain my detached demeanour. “What was it, Matt? You saw me today and decided that I would be your new experiment? What? You’d missed your chance the night we met and, as luck would have it, we bumped into each other today, and you couldn’t wait to—to—I’m furious with you. Jesus. I thought you were a nice person. A frigging knight.” I had to get out of here before I started crying like a baby. “You’re a bad person, Matt. A bad man, and I will not be a token black fuck to you so you can run back to your gazillionaire friends and laugh about your walk on the dark side.”

“Stop saying those things,” he said in a controlled, empty voice.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I hissed. “I’m not some—some—bloody dog. Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve made me hate you. I don’t hate anyone—well, some people deserve to be hated on principle, like Hitler, and—” I was babbling. I shook my head and got back on point. “I despise you. You’re sick and I thank God that, after today, I will never see you again. Asshole.”

My voice had gotten a tad louder than expected, so loud that people were starting to look over at us. I had one more thing to say before I left: “Eat shit and die, you pompous, old racist.”

With those last words, I spun on my heels and stormed out the pub, furious at Matthew Bradley, at the shitty world, at myself. I was stupid. So damn stupid. Letting him flirt with me, letting him touch me. I’d told a strange white dude about myself, about my ballet company. Oh, man, I was stupid.

“Ah,” Nathan said in the wake of uncomfortable tension after her enraged departure. “That went well.”

Matt sat back down, internally fuming at the way she had spoken to him in public. And bizarrely turned on by her glorious anger.

“Eat shit and die?” Nathan continued, fiddling with his cuffs. “I must say I’ve never heard that expression before.”

Matt sighed in response, conscious of the curious glances being sent their way.

“Aren’t you going to go after her?” Nathan queried.

“She’ll be back.” Matt ran a hand through his hair and scowled at the salt and pepper shakers.

Nathan burst into incredulous laughter. “You have lost your mind. She’s furious, Matt. Surprisingly so. Most women would be ecstatic to learn a man of your vast wealth was interested in them. I can’t believe we didn’t think of her doing a search on you. Lack of foresight on your part.”

“She’ll be back,” Matt stated with surety. “She doesn’t have keys.”

Nathan blinked a few times, then understanding dawned. “Her bag is in your car.”

Matt nodded curtly. “Yes, and she didn’t have keys on her, so it’s logical to assume they are in her bag. If she wants to get home, she’ll need her keys.”

They fell silent for a few minutes, then Nathan drawled, “She’ll never shag you now. Did you hear what she called you? A pompous, old racist. Thirty-six isn’t old. Then, again, you are a decade older than her.”

Matt grimaced at Nathan. “I was right here when she said it, so, yes, I heard. Thank you for mentioning it.”

Nathan shrugged, thoroughly enjoying his friend’s discomfort. It was rare Matt ever got shot down by a woman. In fact, Nathan couldn’t remember a time when it had ever occurred.

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