Ebony Washington had the world at her feet. She was young, and she was beautiful. Ebony had a dream job which paid her enough money to get everything she ever wanted. She bought nice clothes, drove a new Volvo and she lived in a nice apartment near the Hudson River.
And Ebony was in love.
She drove her car slowly down West 132nd Street, looking for a place to park. As she drove past her apartment and turned onto Riverside Drive, she thought parking was the only thing that she regretted about living in Harlem. Even though she could now afford to live anywhere she wanted, she was born and raised in Harlem and wouldn’t think of living anywhere else.
The last few days had been hard for her. It’s not an easy thing to hear bad things about the one you love, but sometimes you have to-even if it’s just to give you an opportunity to ask questions and give them an opportunity to respond. It’s good to clear the air sometimes, Ebony thought. Get things out in the open.
She had spent the better part of the evening with Martin. They had dinner at Via Brasil on 46th street. Ebony liked eating there. The food was excellent and the portions were always huge. She usually had the Misto, which was mixed grill skewered with Brazilian sausage, beef, chicken and pork, but that night she opted for the Frango Bossa Nova, which consisted of fried diced chicken in a garlic lemon sauce. After dinner, they went for drinks at People Lounge on Allen Street, another one of her favorite places. She liked the atmosphere, with its dark wood tables that accented the comfortable apple-green suede couches. The ample recessed lighting, the den-like atmosphere, the chocolate-brown walls, and the waterfall pane made the place feel so romantic.
Over Lychee martini’s she asked Martin about the rumors she’d heard about him being involved with gangsters and ordering the execution of a man in Mexico when things didn’t go the way they were planned. It made her feel a lot better when Martin looked her in the eyes and told her that those things weren’t true.
Martin told her that he had heard the rumors and was doing everything in his power to put a stop to them. Then he assured her that he wasn’t the type of man to be involved in anything like that. He even seemed to be a little hurt and somewhat disappointed that she would ask him questions like that. Ebony could feel the sincerity in his voice coming through loud and clear when he told her, "I love you, Ebony. I wouldn’t do anything that would mess up what we have here," Martin said to her and kissed her hand. "I would do anything for you."
Anything but divorce your wife, Ebony thought.
On her way home she gave some thought to the fact that she was in love with a married man. Hell, I’m not the first and I won’t be the last, she thought. But no matter how she tried to rationalize what she was doing, the facts were still the same-she didn’t seem to care. His wife couldn’t love him as much as she did. The frigid bitch could never make love to him the way she did. And he didn’t love her; not anymore. He couldn’t love his wife the way that he loved her. He couldn’t, and that was all there was to it.
Ebony turned on Riverside Drive and circled the block again, thinking maybe she should end all the drama and look into getting a garage. She finally spotted a place to park and began the three-block walk toward her apartment.
She had walked about a block when Ebony heard footsteps coming up quickly behind her. Ebony looked over her shoulder and saw two men walking behind her. She began to walk faster, and so did her pursuers. Once she rounded the corner of 132nd Street, Ebony began to run as fast as she could in a tight skirt and heels. As the men hit the corner they began to run after her.
Two doors down from her building, Ebony fell but got up quickly. But it was too late. They were on her now. She stumbled to her stairs and fell again. She turned and looked into the face of her attacker, who stood over her with a gun pointed at her.
"No! Please don’t! NO!"