"What's up, my brother?" Marjorie Etienne said, and the six-foot-tall, curvy, dark-skinned young Haitian-American woman looked at Rudolph, the only other Black person working in the Acquisitions Division of Magyar Tech, and smiled warmly. Rudolph Stanwood was the newest hire, and as far as newbies went, this one seemed most promising.
Magyar Tech may think of itself as diverse and progressive but it's anything but, Marjorie thought. Last month, a group of Japanese businessmen hailing from Osaka, Japan, had come to visit the downtown office of Magyar Tech. They were potential investors, and the company leaders wanted to make a good impression, so they sent one of their very best, the unforgettable Marjorie Etienne.
Marjorie, who'd been tasked with handling the foreign visitors, could never forget the shocked looks on the Japanese businessmen when they realized that a Black person had been sent to greet them. You expecting someone else? Marjorie thought, annoyed, as the Japanese businessmen gasped in shock and muttered among themselves. To this day the incident irked her, for as tough as Marjorie considered herself, she was not immune to the effects of prejudice...
"Oh hello, Marge," Rudolph said, addressing Marjorie by the same moniker everyone else at Magyar Tech seemed to. Marjorie was a bit peeved about that, since she'd only spoken to Rudolph a couple of times since he'd been hired. The top brass at Magyar Tech, a Hungarian-American corporate giant, was going after small tech companies beyond Minnesota, and they wanted some local talent on their hit squad.
Magyar Tech, started by Hungarian-American siblings and MIT alumni Joseph Magyar and Rachel Magyar, had grown from a small start-up in 1998 to one of the biggest tech companies in the State of Minnesota twenty years later. They had their main office right here in the City of Minneapolis, and satellite offices in Duluth and Saint Paul. Five hundred employees worked for them, and the company was still growing...
Marjorie Etienne, who was born in Cap-Haitien, Republic of Haiti, and raised in the City of Boston, Massachusetts, moved to Minneapolis, Minnesota, three years ago. Armed with a Master's degree in Computer Science from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Marjorie had been handpicked by the company founders themselves to spearhead their aggressive new acquisitions division.
"How are we liking the company so far?" Marjorie asked, and Rudolph paused for a moment, smiling faintly. She considered the six-foot-two, ruggedly handsome Black man with the deep voice standing before her. Rudolph Stanwood was built like a College football player, yet his resume stated that he'd gotten by on an academic scholarship at University of Minneapolis. The brother looks like he lives at the gym, Marjorie mused.
Rudolph Stanwood was something of a man of mystery, and a lot of people at Magyar Tech had their eyes on him. Marjorie, who made a habit of checking out potential rivals, competitors and enemies, thoroughly screen Rudolph's life. He studied economics at the University of Minneapolis, then went out of state for his MBA, which he earned at Northeastern University in Boston. Interesting fellow, Marjorie thought.
"Anything to get away from Boston and my psychotic ex-boyfriend David Clinton," Rudolph said, and Marjorie's smile froze, for she hadn't been expecting...that. Rudolph looked, acted and sounded like a regular guy. He didn't have a funny, vaguely feminine voice. He didn't make funny hand gestures. He didn't walk funny. He looked good, strong and manly. His voice was deep and masculine. Marjorie's heart sank when she realized that Rudolph swung the other way...
"Bad breakups can happen to any of us," Marjorie said, and she looked Rudolph over and again, and could detect absolutely nothing in his looks or behavior that would have pegged him as...one of those. Rudolph wore a dark gray business suit over a sky-blue silk shirt, Black tie, and dark gray dress pants. His pants were nomal, not too tight, which would have been suspicious, and not too loose, which would have been ill-suited for a business environment.
"Yeah, I was dating David for a while and he couldn't handle the fact that I'm Bisexual, I like the fellas just fine but sometimes I just need a lady," Rudolph said, smiling. Marjorie cocked an eyebrow. This was most unexpected, to say the least. Rudolph Stanwood was Bisexual, and not Gay, as Marjorie had previously surmised? Very interesting.
Rudolph Stanwood looked at Marjorie Etienne, the tall, attractive young Black woman in the stylish pantsuit. She seemed friendly, and for some reason, he felt really comfortable around her. She'd been part of the team that interviewed Rudolph when he first arrived at Magyar Tech. A stunningly attractive Black lady who reminded him of Sofia, the last woman he dated prior to coming out...
"Well, Rudolph, I don't mean to cut you short but I have to go, I hope your heart is on the mend and that you're liking it here at Magyar Tech," Marjorie said, and she gently clapped him on the shoulder, then walked away. As Marjorie reached the elevators, she could feel Rudolph's eyes on her and briefly turned. She found him standing a few meters away, a smirk on his face.
"What is this brother's deal?" Marjorie asked herself as she headed downstairs. Like most Black women living in the United States of America, Marjorie was aware of Down Low Brothers, men who considered themselves straight and had wives or girlfriends, yet went around sleeping with other men. Marjorie had bought a copy of On The Down Low by J.L. King during her senior year at M.I.T. out of curiosity and it opened her mind to a whole new world...
According to the book, Down Low Brothers were out there, hiding in plain sight. A man like Rudolph Stanwood, who admitted to being Bisexual, wasn't on the Down Low, then. Rudolph hadn't tried to seduce Marjorie or any woman at the company while hiding some boyfriend somewhere. Marjorie silently praised him for his honesty, then wondered why a man as tall, handsome and masculine as Rudolph would go around messing with the fellas...
For the rest of the day, Marjorie handled her business. Human resources sent her a bunch of resumes to look at. Five young White guys between the ages of twenty two and thirty, all of them with MBAs and Master's degrees in Economics or Computer Science or Computer Engineering from schools like Stanford University, Yale, M.I.T. and of course Northeastern University and Harvard.
"Ambitious, smart, and Whiter than sour cream," Marjorie thought to herself as she looked at the resumes of Todd Jenkins, Thomas Wilson, Hayden Wolfgang, Justin Harrison and Elliott Christensen. Marjorie had nothing against White guys and strove to treat people fairly regardless of race, gender, or, as it turns out, sexual orientation. Still, would it kill human resources to send her some minority resumes once in a while?
Marjorie believed in balance in all things, and that went for the personal as well as the professional. Last year, Marjorie made one hundred and sixty six thousand dollars, plus a performance-related bonus of twenty two thousand, thanks to the good folks at Magyar Tech. Making big bucks working for Whitey, Marjorie thought with a bittersweet smile.
Not selling out, not now, not ever, Marjorie thought, looking at the other young Black female professionals working in downtown Minneapolis. Sisters with degrees from Howard University, Spelman College, Texas Southern University, and the like. A lot of those young ladies dated men of other races. The few Black male professionals hanging around seemed to gravitate toward White women and Latin women.
What's a true soul sister to do under those circumstances? Marjorie wondered. The hard-working young Haitian American woman never forgot where she came from, ever. Marjorie spent a lot of time volunteering for Black youth organizations in Minneapolis. After all, they were the future of the country. One day, Marjorie went in to do some volunteer work, and ran into...him.
Marjorie came to the center to do some volunteering, and also to use the swimming pool. When she couldn't find the young woman whom she was supposed to be mentoring, Marjorie decided to go for a dip. She hadn't counted on running into a certain tall, dark and handsome mystery man here.
Rudolph Stanwood was at the swimming pool of the youth sports league, and he was training some minority young men and women how to swim. Marjorie gasped in shock as she saw the tall, handsome, dark-skinned brother rise out of the water in dark red swim trunks. He was built like NBA legend Dwight Howard, only a bit shorter. Oh, and there was a major bulge at the front of his trunks.
"Brother wouldn't be chasing the fellas if he had some of this pussy," Marjorie thought, as she admired Rudolph's fit, muscular body. He hadn't noticed her and continued to talk to the young men and women gathered around him. Marjorie watched him as he showed them how to swim, and practiced with them. Dude seemed to know his craft...
"Alright, people, remember, glide, don't fight the water, kick those legs and let it work for you," Rudolph said, and he clapped his hands, and his students waded into the water. Marjorie went to the ladies room, changed into her tank top and swimming shorts, then went into the water. She winced at its coldness, then her body adjusted to it. Resolutely, she made her way toward Rudolph.
"Hey stranger," Marjorie said, tapping Rudolph on the shoulder, and he turned around and smiled. He didn't seem the least bit surprised to see her there. Marjorie grinned at him, and they shook hands. Rudolph looked at her a bit longer than was considered socially acceptable, and Marjorie wasn't sure what to make of that. I don't have a dick, darling, I don't do it for you, Marjorie thought sourly.