Friends are forever Pt. 2

“Mandy, we’ve got a problem!”
I looked up as my business partner Susan Ashby walked into my office, waving a pink folder. As usual, she was impeccably dressed: pale green Donna Karan pantsuit, pearl accessories and tan Balenciaga sling backs. Older and wiser beyond her 35 years, Susan often made me forget that only seven years separated our ages. Not that I was a giddy-headed, impetuous youth either. Running one of the top event planning companies on the island didn’t leave much room for rashness. Susan and I had met while we were undergoing training and we decided to team up to realise our dream of running our own event business.
Susan continued. “Debbie is home sick with the flu and she has a couple coming in at 10 for their first consultation. Trust me, we don’t want to lose this one, it’s going to be the society wedding of the year! Can you fit it into your schedule?”
I flipped through my diary, trying to see if I could reorganise my morning to accommodate the additional appointment. I knew that Susan had to spend the entire morning at the reception site of the nervous bride of a local Parliamentarian, and that left two junior event planners who were still getting their feet wet.
“It’s going to be tight but I think I can do it and still make it to Turtle Beach to meet the decorator for the Holloway wedding.”
She sighed in relief and handed over the folder. “Have fun. I hear the groom’s a serious hottie but the bride’s a code red,” she grinned mischievously and waved before heading out the door.
I groaned and flipped open the file. At Ashby-Harris Events we jokingly coded our brides based on the stress level they were likely to cause. A code red meant I was in for a long morning.
My eyes widened when I read the information gathered on the couple I would be meeting in an hour. Oh yeah, I thought, it was going to be a very long morning.
An hour later, my secretary Liz buzzed to let me know that my clients had arrived. I asked her to show them into the conference room and I rose from my desk, smoothing my white Nicole Farhi pantsuit nervously. I checked my reflection in my compact and smoothed my shoulder-length, honey-coloured dreadlocks into place.
The conference room door was still ajar and I stood in the doorway, checking out the altar-bound couple. The groom was standing at the window, arms folded across his broad chest, gazing down at the busy City street four stories below. His bride, slim and attractive in a silk designer skirt suit, was seated at the conference table, engaged in a heated discussion on her cell phone.
I took a deep breath and walked in, closing the door behind me. “Good morning, I’m Amanda Harris. Welcome to AshbyHarris Events.”
Steven Carmichael turned sharply when he heard my voice. “Mandy? I didn’t know you worked here!”
He hesitated, then came over and shook my hand. I tried to ignore the thrill that ran through me when we touched. “I actually co-own the company. How’ve you been?”
“Pretty well, can’t complain. You look well,” he smiled softly. I nodded my thanks and repaid the compliment. I hadn’t set eyes on him in three years and the years had been very kind. His expensive dark suit complemented his muscular body nicely, and his closely shaved head and neatly trimmed moustache and goatee accentuated his dark-brown skin. If possible, he was getting more handsome with age.
He signaled to his bride-to-be, who was still deep in conversation. She held up a finger and launched into another tirade. I didn’t envy the person on the other end of the line.
“Look, Steven, if this is going to be too awkward let me know and I’ll re-schedule you with another planner,” I began.
“Well, if you can deal with it so can I. You tell me,” he replied frankly, placing his hands in his pockets.
I frowned and pondered on the situation. His bride, Veronica McFarrell, was the daughter of one of the richest men on the island and planning her wedding would be a financial and PR coup. But could I honestly help her to marry the man I once loved?
The decision was taken out of my hands by his fiancée, who finished her call and approached us. “I told Stevie that we must have the Ashby-Harris Events that planned Eleanor Wilthshire’s wedding. Only the best for a McFarrell, right darling?”
I suppressed a snicker. I guess I knew which surname she was planning to use after marriage.
“Veronica, Mandy is an old friend of mine from Brighton. We were neighbours for many years,” Steven smiled, placing his arms around her shoulders.
I tried to ignore the casual intimacy between the two and extended my hand, which she shook limply. I ushered them over to the large oak table to get down to the business of planning their wedding.
“Are you married yourself, Mandy? You don’t mind if I call you Mandy, right?” Veronica began as soon as she was seated.
“No, I’ve never been married, Ms. McFarrell. I’ve never been that lucky,” I responded coolly, and Steven raised an eyebrow.
“She was engaged once, Veronica, to another friend of ours,” he returned, smiling thinly.
“Some friend,” I muttered under my breath, then turned my attention to planning the McFarrell-Carmichael wedding.

****

Holiday romance

Since Christmas is such a romantic time of year (must be all that gift-giving), I've decided to introduce something new today. A while back I wrote a short romance story entitled 'Friends are Forever', which I will serialise here on the blog over the next few days. All characters are fictitious and if you know anyone by these names, tell 'em I said sorry! Hope you enjoy....




FRIENDS ARE FOREVER PT. 1

The telephone must have rung five times before it broke my concentration. Sighing in annoyance, I stopped typing on my laptop and reached over to pick up the receiver. My best friend Lucine Sobers was waiting impatiently on the other end of the line.
“Mandy, you will never believe who’s getting married in December!” she began breathlessly. “Steven Carmichael!”
I almost dropped the phone. “You’re joking! To whom?”
“Some local high society girl. He met her while he was working in New York.”
I leaned back in my chair and gripped the phone tightly. “Well, that’s good news. I wish them both the best of luck.”
Lucine snorted. “Please girl, who’re you trying to fool? This is me you’re talking to. I know how you feel about that man!”
I sighed. “What do you want me to do, Lou? It’s obvious he’s made his choice. What should I do, break up the wedding because he and I have a history? Actually, that says it right there. History, over and done with.”
Lucine sucked her teeth. “I doubt you two will ever be history, no matter what you say.”
She disconnected and I sat with the receiver in hand for a few seconds before replacing it. Steven’s getting married. Lord, I’ve lost him for good.

****

July, 1995

“Romey! I win again!” Steven Carmichael hooted triumphantly and four pairs of hands tossed down their cards in frustration.
“You’re a big thief, that’s what,” Damian Proverbs grumbled dejectedly and proceeded to shuffle the cards again.
I stretched my stiff back and gazed around at my companions, who were all seated on a blanket on the golden sands of Brandons Beach. My 13 year-old sister Angela was to my left, bobbing her head along to Edwin’s Crop Over hit Obadele on her portable radio. To my right was Lucine Sobers, my best friend since primary school. The daughter of our neighbourhood shopkeeper, Lucine was able to get a day off from her shop duties to spend the day with us at the beach.
Damian sat next to Lucine. Already at the age of 18 his face gave an indication of the attractive man he would grow up to become. His light-brown, fine boned features and hazel eyes were said to be a legacy from a Cuban grandfather. It was no secret in our group that Damian had a crush on me. I often felt it was because I was one of the few females immune to his charms.
Between Damian and Angela sat Steven, the object of my teenage affections. Dark-brown and attractive, Steven possessed a ready smile and a quick wit. Kind and generous, Steven had the ability to cheer up anyone around him. His only failing in my eyes was that he remained clueless to my feelings. We had been friends for most of our lives; his parents lived next door to my grandparents and we were the same age. My sister and I had been sent to live with my grandparents when our parents migrated to England to find employment. Over the years, my feelings for Steven had transformed from preteen indifference to outright infatuation.
“You all continue playing, I’m going for a swim. You coming, Mandy?” Steven enquired and I nodded, pulling on my swim cap.
“Have fun, we’ll be here,” Lucine grinned mischievously, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Damian frown. I ignored him and raced across the sand after Steven, who was already plunging into the ocean.
“Cheater! You had a head start!” I yelled and he grinned and waited for me to catch up. We swam out about 100 yards from the shore and hauled ourselves up into a blue and yellow Moses boat anchored in the bay.
“Whew, that was good,” Steven laughed. “You’re getting stronger every time.”
“You’re a good teacher,” I replied, punching him playfully on the arm. His skin felt warm, and I watched as droplets of seawater trickled down his wide, muscular chest and well-defined abs to disappear below his swim trunks. I swallowed hard and folded my arms across my bikini top to hide my body’s sudden reaction to touching him.
“What’s up, you cold?” Steven asked concernedly. Before I could respond, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his warm body.
My breath caught in my throat and I grew tense. Sensing a shift, he turned to me, his face just a few inches from mine. Gathering my courage, I pulled his face to mine and kissed him softly on the lips.
Startled, Steven pulled away. “Wait, Mandy what’re you doing?”
“What does it look like?” I whispered and leaned in to kiss him again.
He placed his hands on my shoulders. “Look, Mandy, you’re one of my best friends. I don’t want to mess with our friendship by making it into something more!”
I flushed angrily and shook off his hands. “So you’re saying you don’t find me attractive?”
He rubbed his neatly shaved head in frustration. “Hell yeah, I do, I’m an 18 year old guy, I’m not made of stone.”
He continued as I started to protest. “But girlfriends come and go, friends are forever. Besides, I’m leaving for New York next month and I’ll be gone for three years. What’s the point of starting something now?”
I grudgingly agreed with his logic. He was always too smart for his own good. “I guess you have a point,” I grumbled.
Steven hugged me tightly and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t be mad at me Mandy, you know I’m right. When my studies are over, who knows? Besides, I don’t think you’ll be hard up for company the way Damian is always rushing you,” he chuckled.
I sucked my teeth and pulled away from his embrace. “If I wanted Damian I wouldn’t be here with you right now.”
I dove off the boat and swam towards the shore, leaving Steven to stare pensively after me.

****

Part 2 later today!

Peter Boyle dies at age 71

While I don't usually blog about the Hollywood scene, I must mention that one of my favourite television characters has passed on. Peter Boyle, who played the cranky, gluttonous father Frank Barone on "Everybody Loves Raymond", died on Tuesday evening after a long battle with heart disease and multiple myeloma, a bone-marrow cancer.
He leaves to mourn a wife and two daughters.
Click here
for more.

Photo: www.people.com

Insensitve CMC

I understand that last night, the Caribbean Media Corporation (CMC) aired footage of a woman who was beheaded in St. Vincent. While I'm not sure how much detail they showed, I don't understand why they needed to broadcast it in the first place! Were they hoping that the gory incident would deter other such incidents? Fine if it does, but I doubt it. All CMC did was traumatise that poor woman's family even more in their quest for better ratings. A brick bat for you, CMC!

Change of guard in St. Lucia

Well, I guess it's safe to say that Kenny Anthony won't be having the merriest of Christmases. Is anyone else as surprised by the result of the St. Lucian elections as I am? Congrats to Sir John Compton, who's one brave man to attempt to lead a country at the age of 83. And to Kenny Anthony, better luck next time. As for poor Vaughan Lewis, he can't catch a break. He switched alliances and now his party is in Opposition. Clyde Mascoll, please take note.

Photo: www.caribbean360.com

Comments enabled!

Hi all, I've finally figured out the settings for this new Beta blogger system and you should all be able to comment easily now. Feel free to comment on earlier posts. I love hearing from you. It let's me know I'm not talking to myself!:)Thanks again for all your words of encouragement. Special shout out to Cal, Mike, Ms. Sweetbread, (you know who you are) Etrici and Ruth!

Dick Stoute is funny

DICK STOUTE (second from left), president of the Barbados Chamber of Commerce and Industry, addressing a recent Press conference while members of the chamber's commerce committee, (from left) Andy Armstrong, Randall Banfield and Ian Alleyne, look on.

I had a good laugh yesterday, and I owe it to the president of the Barbados Chamber of Commerce, Dick Stoute.
According to Mr. Stoute, Whites no longer have economic control of Barbados. They have been replaced by "a successful black entrepreneurial class and a powerful Government".
"It is quite clear that white people do not control anything....Whites are leaders in some high profile positions, but when you look at the whole economy and the level of entrepreneurialship and the number of new businesses that have started up mainly by black people, you see that the situation is changing," he said.
Mr. Stoute added that by dint of Whites making up less than ten percent of the population, it was impossible for them to own all the land, houses, vehicles and cellphones on the island. He further called on Government to release any figures it had compiled on the ownership of these items and the extent of black corporate investment in order "to let people know who owned what in the country".
Well, where should I begin? Maybe by asking a few questions and stating a few opinions.
1. Blacks have outnumbered Whites in Barbados since the days of slavery, yet this small fraction of the population owned the plantations while Blacks were landless and disenfranchised. (The first settlers of Rock Hall, St. Thomas received their right to vote when they were each willed an acre of land; they later lost that right when they subdivided the land for their families.) Since when was the population size of a race in Barbados an indicator of ownership or control?
2. Sure Black Barbadians own land, houses, vehicles and cellphones. But, unless they can afford to pay cash, most of these items really belong to a bank or a financial institution which is charging an exorbitant interest rate. When Mr. Stoute sees a well-dressed Black man or woman cruising down ABC Highway in his/her SUV and chatting on his/her Motorola Razor, he might not realise this picture of wealth comes at a hefty cost. A $5,000 credit limit is not the same as having $5,000 in the bank.
3. What constitutes wealth? Houses and land are assets, cars and cellphones are not. Sure lots of Blacks are driving cars and owning cell phones, because getting credit or loans to buy these items isn't too difficult. It seems more difficult to get a mortgage, and even if you do, land and house prices are getting out of the reach of the average Barbadian.
4. How many Black business start-ups actually go the distance? For every Branckers, Exclusive Lighting and C & I Hardware there are many Black-owned businesses that either fail or are pushed out of the market. Ask the reconditioned car dealers.
5. What qualifies as entrepreneurialship? Selling vegetables outside the Fairchild Street Bus Terminal?
6. I cannot argue that our standard of living has improved. Yet to paint such a fantastic picture of the economic status of Blacks in Barbados is grossly misleading. My family and I are comfortable, but we're not blind to the misfortunes of others. I can take Mr. Stoute on a tour to see families living in abandoned houses without electricity and water and living off the kindness of neighbours. Poverty here is more widespread than we'd like to think.
7. Is Government really powerful? In the past 12 years I've worked for two different administrations; I'm yet to see Government flexing its muscles on the private sector.
Sigh. I'm going to stop ranting now. Suffice it to say, I'll believe Dick Stoute when Black Barbadians own the mortgage, cell phone and real estate companies and the car dealerships.

Photo: Daily Nation

Cover dreams

Rihanna is having a great year. On the heels of winning four Billboard Awards, she has also be named the new face of Cover Girl cosmetics. Now this is the type of news what we want to see from Rihanna, not more pictures of those 'barely-there' dresses she's been sporting recently.

Photo: www.socialitelife.com


The cast of Dream Girls (l-r) Eddie Murphy, Jamie Foxx and Beyonce. Jennifer Hudson and Anika Noni Rose are featured on the fold-out section.

And speaking of covers, history was made this week when Vanity Fair magazine revealed its January 2007 cover. It features not one, not two, but three African-Americans on the front cover. Five if you count the other two African-Americans on the fold-out section!
Why is this a big deal you ask? Well, mainstream U.S. magazines have been notorious for ignoring that segment of the population for years. Have you ever flipped through a Vogue or Cosmopolitan magazine and seen more than one token Black model, if you found one at all? Vanity Fair has not featured a solo Black person on its cover since the late 1990's, and Beyonce is the first African-American woman to appear since Tina Turner in 1993. Apparently issues featuring Blacks on the covers don't sell too well, or so the editors say. The sad thing is, you want to bet we're the ones who buy most of the products featured in the same magazines?
Well, one victory at a time I guess...Have a great weekend, all!

Photo: www.justjared.com

Fallen heroine

I received an email recently about the death of the first minority female command sergeant in the history of the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, Lt. Emily Perez. Perez, a platoon leader, was patrolling southern Iraq near Najaf on Sept. 12 when a roadside bomb exploded under her Humvee. The second lieutenant was buried on September 22 at the academy, the first female graduate of West Point to die in Iraq.
The email was captioned "Bet you won't see this on CNN". And it's sad, but true. Click on the link below to read the fascinating story of the fallen service woman, laid to rest at the age of 23.
West Point Mourns

Photo courtesy the Washington Post

Caribbean Airlines going south

Caribbean Airlines hasn't even been launched officially and I'm already wondering if its management has lost its darn mind.
According to yesterday's Daily Nation, when Caribbean Airlines begins operating on January 1, it will be eliminating, at least in the initial stages,direct services between Grantley Adams International Airport and Miami, New York and Toronto on the North American continent.
The paper reports that "a simple flight from Barbados to Miami, which now takes just over three hours, after January 1 could include an overnight stop in Trinidad after leaving Barbados at 7 p.m. and a midday arrival in North America the next day".
Now I don't know about you, but if I'm faced with a scenario where I can leave Bim early and be kicking back in Westland Mall in Miami by 1 pm that same day, or going to Trinidad first and getting to Miami the next day, which one do you think I'm going to choose?
Are they serious? This is the 21st century, people! It's bad enough we have to fly North to get back to South America and fly to Europe to get to Africa. Now we have to go South to go North. And pay for an overnight stay to boot!
This must be the best news Air Jamaica and the other carriers have had in a long time....

Congrats Rihanna

Rihanna has copped another top award. Last night at the Billboard Music Awards, she beat out Mary J. Blige and Beyonce to win the Best Female Artist of the Year Award! Rihanna also won in the categories of Female Hot 100 Artist and Pop 100 Artist. She also unveiled a new hairstyle too. Congrats girl child. She looks lovely for that award environment, but as a Bajan watching all I keep thinking is she's going to catch her death of cold if she keeps exposing herself like this...

Photos courtesy of www.justjared.com

The face of the future?

Sen. Barack Obama, D-Ill., speaks during the ground breaking ceremony for the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial on the National Mall in Washington, Monday, Nov. 13, 2006. (AP Photo/Lawrence Jackson)

Is it possible that in my lifetime a Black man might be the president of the United States of America? While Democratic Senator for Illinois and the only Black man in the Senate, Barack Obama, is still playing his cards close to his chest where running in the 2008 Presidential elections is concerned, there is a strong possibility that he might run.
If he does, and if he wins, I suspect that the world will never be the same again. Good luck to him, and I pray that he will be protected against all those negative forces that would do anything to halt his aspirations.

Our First Lady

I must admit I'm impressed with the Prime Minister's wife, Mrs. Julie Arthur. At every event she is impeccably dressed, but not over-dressed. Very classy. Perhaps she can give a few style tips to certain female members of Cabinet....




Photos courtesy of The Nation Newspaper