Fly Me To The Moon

Chapter 9

The next day at work, I began drafting my letter of resignation from Jackie. But something stopped me, I thought to myself. Why would I give up my career for a man? Even if he is the President?

Suddenly, Dick was at my desk. He had a two dixie cups filled with coffee in his hand, a pen stuck inside his breast pocket and an intoxicating smile on his face.

"Hey there, stranger." He smiled as he placed one of the coffees on my desk.

"Thanks Dick, you're too kind." I smiled as I picked up the coffee and took a sip.

"You know, it's been a few weeks since you've begun working here. I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime." Dick offered in a whispering voice. "Out of the office."

I paused.

"Is that allowed?" I asked him.

"Probably not." He shook his head with a smile. "But I want to get to know you."

"And I want to get back to work." I told him as I handed him back the coffee he got. "In that case, you can take this back."

"Keep it." He placed the coffee on my desk as he stood up. "After your shift I'll be waiting outside the office. We can walk out together."

"I have other obligations." I called out as he began walking off.

"I'll see you later." He winked at me then went to his desk. I looked at him as he sat down. He was definitely attractive, and he was actually around my age.

However I was sure the President wouldn't be happy to find out I was seeing someone in my office. Still, I was curious about what Dick had to offer.

As I walked out the office, Dick was leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He immediately lifted off the wall and walked up to me.

"Ready to head out?" He asked with a grin.

"I'm busy." I answered him, trying to make my way to the bus stop. Dick followed me there, and I stood by the bus stop while ignoring him.

"Look, I don't mean to bother you. I just find you beautiful and I want a chance to take you out." He said as he stood behind me. I still looked forward, not answering.

"I know I'm white and you're... not. But that doesn't mean we can't see each other! It is 1961 after all." He added. I still wasn't buying it.

He walked up so he now stood next to me. He rose a brow and looked up at the bus stop sign I stood next to, then back at me.

"I have a car." He said quietly, and I looked up at him.

We sat in the car as he pressed the buttons to turn on the heat. The warm air immediately began rushing throughout the car.

"These cars are getting fancier and fancier these days, aren't they?" Dick smiled, trying to create conversation. I was silent as I looked out the window. "It's fine because D.C. can get as cold as the North and as hot as the South. We're in the middle."

My fingers played with the hem of my skirt as I tried to occupy myself.

"You don't talk to anyone, don't you?" He asked. I shot a look at him. "Here we are in this cozy car and even here you won't speak to me."

"I came to D.C. to work, not to play house with you." I mumbled.

He stopped the car, and turned to me. I moved closer to the window in order to get father from him. In those days, a lot of cars didn't have the usual arm rest between the driver and the passenger. Three people could fit in the front seat.

"Listen, it'll make things a lot easier if you let people in." Dick said as he looked at me. "Just try."

I contemplated whether or not this would be a good idea. Then suddenly, Dick scooted to the middle of the seat in order to sit next to me.

"Tell me about yourself." He shrugged. "Anything."

I bit my lip, and played with my fingers. Well, I'm sleeping with our boss who happens to be the leader of the free world—

"You start." I told him as I looked into his eyes. Dick chuckled at me, and sat back on the seat, rubbing his chin.

"Well, I guess you could say I'm a spoiled rich kid." He exhaled. "My father is a big business guy, and owns more companies than you could wrap your head around. But I'm sure you wouldn't think that."

"Oh no— I definitely would." I answered him and he laughed. He looked at the blowing heat vent in front of him.

"Well, my mother is a housewife and socialite." He explained. "She didn't really change our diapers or put bandages on our wounds. We had the au pair to do that."

"What was your au pair like?" I asked him quietly.

"Beautiful, not much older than I am. Probably about 20 years older than me." He said as his eyes looked forward. "And uh, she was always nice. Always there for my brother and I. A kind woman, and always there when you needed her. Way more than my mother ever was."

"She was beautiful, you said. What did she look like?" I asked him.

"She was a tall woman. Brown eyes, nice smile. Thick hair." He listed, but then his breathing began to change. "Voluptuous body, an amazing walk and swagger to her. She could strut into a room and everyone would look at her."

I began getting uncomfortable at the lustful way he described this woman who was in his life.

"She's negro, but it never mattered to us. She still works for my family, just as a housekeeper. We could never let her out of our household, we love her too much." He explained. There was a silence in the car.

"Did you ever make love to her?" I asked him silently. His eyes slowly creeped up to mine.

"I've always wanted to." He said. "It's always been something inside of me. Apart of me."

"What would your family say about that?" I asked.

"They'd hit the roof." He snorted. Then, he got even closer to me, and rested the length of his arm on the back of the seat behind me. "But I'm not at home now."