As You Wish - Part 3

Talia was smart and pretty and black and not that tall and wanted to be a model. Instead, she worked at The Company, downstairs, and at night, went into Miami to party. Talia was four or five years younger than me. Remy liked her as a person, and I think he related to her drive, and every so often I'd find Talia in Remy's office chatting with him. There was nothing but friendship going on between them.

After a while, Talia found my lunch spot downstairs and would come ask what my book was about, or tell me about a video she was going to audition for, or what was going on at home, or how she wanted to move to New York. She liked to ask me about New York, and even though I explained I hadn't lived in the city, she decided Long Island was close enough, and liked hearing about it anyway.

Talia lived with her mother, and a sister or two (I can't remember), and her only expenses were her cell phone and car. She was taking a class or two at FAU or some other local college.

I liked Talia. She was smart and nice and funny. I learned all about how it doesn't have to be uncomfortable to wear stilettos and how she talked men into paying her cell phone bill. In a very round-about way, Remy was Talia's supervisor, and he'd hear about it when she came to work late. He was hurt by Talia's being late - he felt that since they were friends, she shouldn't put him in the position of having to deal with her lateness. So, he often ignored it. Talia was late because she was at open casting calls in Miami, but knew enough to say she'd had car trouble, or had to take her mother to the doctor, or some other lie.

Talia wanted to surround herself with people who she thought were smart, or successful. At some point, Frank and Talia noticed each other. I got the vibe that Talia was impressed with Frank's impending lawyerness, that she'd never been friends with a black man who'd graduated from through law school. The type of men she'd casually dated were ... not the greatest. I don't know how else to say it, because all I have are hazy memories of impressions, rather than facts.

Talia knew she was pretty, and she was learning at this, her first "real" full-time job, that other people knew she was smart. Remy told me privately once that this was the first job Talia had where she was valued for her intelligence rather than her looks.

Remy wanted me to handle anything I possibly could, to take work away from him. That's how the job of attendance eventually fell to me, and that's how I started noticing that Frank and Talia were gone at the same times. Talia was quiet but not secretive about it, and in answer to my, "We missed you yesterday," would respond by telling me flat out she'd been at the beach with a friend.

Usually when Talia would come talk to me during lunch, she'd lean against a desk or something that showed the quickness of it. One day she pulled over a chair, and propped her feet up on the same box mine were on. I took the hint and closed my book.

"You think it's fucked up that we're hanging out?" I told her not at all, that I understood his appeal to her. "But, he lives with the mother of his child, and what does it say about his respect for her?"

Hell yeah, I'm judgmental. Talia was upset by my answer and walked away. I went back to reading. Talia came back. "You don't understand."

"Okay," I challenged her. "Explain it to me." Talia waved her hands around and tried to form sentences, to defend herself. I caught one of her hands. "You don't have to justify your actions to me. I'm sure there are things I do that you don't agree with. You only have to justify your actions to yourself."

Talia told me that they'd only gone to the beach for part of the day. The other part of the day consisted of going out on one of Frank's fraternity brother's boats. She met his friends. His black lawyer friends. I understood just fine.