Derrick Tolbert handed the valet the keys to his BMW along with an extra ten dollars to make sure he’d
park it far away from other cars.  The last thing he needed was some dings on his baby.  Like a parent
eyeing his child being led away by a kindergarten teacher on his first day of school, Derrick watched as the
attendant carefully drove off with his car.  He waited a moment to listen for the squeal of tires.  When he
didn’t hear the telltale sign of abuse, he strolled off, whistling.  A Mercedes is next, he thought.  

In Chicago, where there were more Michael Jordan clones running around per capita than in any other
city, Derrick had his own flavor and he made heads turn.  Just half an inch over six three, two hundred
fifteen pounds, with more muscles than a World Wrestling Entertainment wrestler and the color of a
ripened mango, Derrick was gorgeous.  

He sauntered into his favorite restaurant and the maitre d’ immediately escorted him across the room to
his table.  En route Derrick waved and smiled at more people than a campaigning politician.  Chicago’s
African-American lawyer population was sizeable, but he knew most of them, and it looked like they all were
eating at the restaurant tonight.  

Halfway across the restaurant he could see Darla, his girlfriend sitting stiffly as though she had a pole for a
spine.  He slowed his steps, not looking forward to what he had to do.  He nervously tugged at his collar
and glanced longingly at the bar.  “Man up,” Derrick ordered himself, causing the anxiety to disappear just
as quickly as it came.  As soon as Derrick made it to the table Darla’s stance immediately relaxed.

“Hey,” she gushed, then hopped up, threw her arms around him and kissed him so hard that he was sure
she had bruised his lips.

“Umm, hi baby,” he said, pulling away.  “Thanks for the enthusiastic welcome.”  He rubbed his hand across
his mouth.

“Did I hurt you?  I’m sorry.  Let me make it better,” Darla murmured as she inched closer to Derrick’s mouth.

“I’ll be okay,” Derrick assured her as he moved his lips out of kissing range and pecked her on the
forehead before landing into his seat.  “What a day,” he moaned as he signaled the waiter and ordered a
martini.

“Bad day, baby?” Darla asked, and Derrick shook his head.

“Quite the opposite—it’s been a phenomenal day.  One that’ll go down in the Derrick Tolbert Hall of Fame.”

Darla’s eyes widened and she fixed a pointed gaze on him.  “Wow.  That sounds exciting!  What happened?”


“I got the job.”

Darla pursed her mouth in concentration.  “At Steinbeck and Holmes?  That’ll be nice since it’s downtown.”

“Not that one?”

“Oh, then the one in Houston?”

“No not that one,” Derrick answered slowly.

“Whew.  I was afraid that we were moving.  Which one then?”

“Atlanta baby!  I’ll be lawyering in Atlanta!”

“I love Atlanta!  The weather is a thousand times better.  And I might run into that fine Michael Vick.  So
when are we moving?”  Darla asked, grinning up at Derrick expectantly.  His jaw dropped so far down that
he couldn’t pick it up.  Darla’s eyes widened with disbelief.  “You’re not going to take me with you?” she
asked, her voice quavering with hurt.  

Derrick began squirming in his seat as though he was on the witness stand.  “You have your job and I
know how much you love it.”

“It’s only a job, and I can find another one in Georgia.  It shouldn’t be too hard to find a job as a software
engineer.  So many companies are headquartered there—Coca Cola, UPS and Home Depot.  And there are
tons of smaller companies.”

“I wouldn’t want you to do that—not for me,” Derrick said, his brows furrowed with irritation.  “Besides, all
your family is here.”

“They would love to visit me in Atlanta, especially momma.  Atlanta has the best shopping. And Daddy
would love to see the Falcons play, Nathan could check out Morehouse, he’s thinking about becoming a
doctor, and—”

“I don’t think you should come with me,” Derrick blurted out.

“You don’t think I should come with you?” Darla repeated.  “You’re breaking up with me?”

“Well no…”

“Oh, so we’re gonna try the long-distance thing?” she asked, relieved.

“Well, no, I won’t have time for that.  I’ll need to focus on my job.  I’ll need to figure out my next step.”

“So you are breaking up with me?”

Derrick began fiddling with his drink, then: “I guess I am.”

“I love you, Derrick,” she said quietly, her words ringing with desperation.  

“I love you too, baby,” he insisted.

“So why are you leaving me?” Darla tearfully asked as their two-year relationship was becoming another
piece of black history.  

“Don’t cry,” he softly pleaded.  “This opportunity is too good for me to pass up.  My salary will be doubled,
the company is gonna give me a —”

“I don’t care what you’re going to get,” Darla hissed, her tears gone and her eyes as cold as a Chicago
winter day.  “Answer my question.  Why are you leaving me?  I thought we were going to get married.  We
even looked at rings.”

“You looked at rings,” Derrick said, exasperated, then blew out a stream of air.  “Listen, let’s not have this
conversation here.  Let’s go back to my place and talk in private.  We can get our dinner to—”
Darla vigorously shook her head.  “I want to talk about it now.  Why-are-you-leaving-me?” she bluntly asked.


Derrick shifted nervously in his seat.  Tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, rang in his ears.  But
not if it hurts someone.  “I’m not leaving you.  I’m leaving Chicago.”  There, he thought, satisfied.  But his
smugness was short lived.

“Why Derrick?” Darla asked, the tears returning.  “Just tell me the truth.  Is it the sex?  Is it the way I drool
at night?  Is it the way I look?”  She looked him squarely in the eyes then asked, “Is it someone else?”  
Derrick shook his head.  “Then what?”

Derrick silently regarded the woman who had been at his side for the past two years.  She was gorgeous,
almost flawless, but she reminded him of vanilla pudding.  Together they had as much spark as a water-
logged Eveready battery.  “Because I’m not in love with you,” Derrick admitted.  Darla let out a strangled
wail.  “Shit!  Darla, I’m sorry.”

“All those times, you told me…and you just told me ten minutes ago that you loved me.  I don’t believe it,”
she whispered too dazed to cry.  “So it was all fake?  Us?” she said pointing to Derrick, then to herself.  
“So we weren’t real?”

“We were real!” Derrick insisted.  “And I do love you…but not the way you want me to love you.  Not in the
way you deserve to be loved.”

“So why drag it out for two years, Derrick?  Why couldn’t you have told me six months into it?  Hell, a year
into it?  You’ve wasted my fucking time!” she spat.

“I’m sorry,” Derrick whispered helplessly.

Darla stood up on wobbly legs, planted her hands on the table and looked directly into Derrick’s eyes.  “I’m
sure you’ve heard the saying:  What goes around comes around,” she continued without waiting for his
response.  “Well, life is gonna sucker punch you so hard that it’s gonna turn you inside out.”