The 6'7" tall pale and wimpish 49-year-old Myron continued kneeling in the sand as he watched his 27-year-old black boss walking away with his beautiful, blonde wife. He was still clutching Mona's smallish designer purse and wondering how she could have left it behind.
"Mona never forgets her purses." He reasoned. "Why now?" He asked himself.
The young, 5' 8" 185 lb. chiseled black adonis was about 40 yards away from the already humiliated Myron. He walked side by side with the ravishing blonde woman.
His steps were slow, calculated and non-chalant. His dark muscled right hand remained on the small of Myron's wife's back as they made their way towards the far end of the beach where Je'Quon's new car was parked.
Despite his reluctance, Myron thought it best that his gorgeous wife of fifteen years would appreciate having her purse with her.
"M-Mona?" He quietly tried calling out to her, as she walked side by side with the young black boss.
Mona could not even remotely hear the soft, timid call of her passive husband.
Myron got up and stood there in the hot sand, his wife's mini purse in hand, before deciding to scurry after them. In his mind, it would be a valiant attempt to show his absolutely stunning, blue-eyed and blonde wife just how thoughtful and chivalrous he could be.
He scurried quickly towards them calling out her name every few strides. "Mona? Mona? M-Mona?" he continued to call out.
Mona and Je'Quon finally turned around when the nervous Myron got to within a few yards of them.
Je'Quon appeared to be a bit irritated by his white subordinate's sudden presence, but quickly turned to being amused when he noticed the cowardly Myron holding a dainty, little white purse in his left hand.
"Hey, boy! You look good wit' that lil' bitch purse on ya." He laughed.
Myron was already flushed and breathing heavy from the short run. He was not as athletic as his younger, black boss. But, this comment made his cheeks burn to an even crimson color.
"W-well uh, no sir. I-I just th-thought that I would ... well ... bring M-Mona her p-purse back." He stuttered.
The beautiful Mona seemed relieved. She found it difficult to speak, but managed to return the small talk.
"Oh, good. My lips are getting so chapped in this hot sun and I needed my lip balm." she whispered, as if was barely interested.
Mona began rummaging through her tiny purse.
Myron stood there in agonizing silence as his younger, black stud of a boss stared him down.
Je'Quon's powerful, dark arms were crossed with authority and studying his older white subordinate's panicked-loooking face. The statuesque Myron could not even make eye contact with the intimidating black man standing right before him as Je'Quon seemed to swallow his entire self-esteem.
Mona was overheard going through her purse and complaining about leaving her precious lip balm back at the house.
"Oh, darn. All I have here is my lipstick and my lips ae so dry." Mona said quietly.
Je'Quon turned away from Myron and then towards Mona.
"Yeah. Well, ya' better put that on instead." He said.
"And, put it on real thick too since it's so dang hot out here." Je'Quon directed. "Besides, dat' looks a lot better than that silly lip shit ya' girls always wearin'!" He added.
"Oh, yes. Yes, you're right." Mona replied.
Myron looked on curiously as Mona applied a thick coat of her L'Oreal brand creamy lipstick in that drum beat red shade she often used. He seemed a bit perplexed by the fact that his hot blonde wife was actually applying lipstick at a beach when she had never done that before.
Yet, Myron quickly dismissed that from his mind.
He was much more concerned about how upset he had made his much younger, masculine black boss by spilling that wine all over his feet earlier.
Mona barely glaced upwards with her freshly-painted lips.
"Sweet." Je'Quon commented under his breath.
There was an uncomfortable silence for the timid Myron. It lasted all but 15 seconds, but seemed like an eternity to him.
His beautiful, late 30's blonde wife standing beside the younger, thuggish-looking black boss with her eyes lowered, almost obediently, waiting for the his next words.
"Time to go." Je'Quon exclaimed, breaking the brief silence.
The concern in Myron's face was apparent. Still, he kept reasoning with himself that Mona was a good woman. His dream girl. She was everything he had ever wanted, and more. The type of wife that any man would love to have.
As he watched the young, black stud stroll away from him with his wife, several thoughts of him following along to see this new car his black boss had been bragging about emerged.
These thoughts quickly passed.
Other thoughts of getting bossed around by his masculine boss in the presence of his pretty wife made Myron feel less excited about that possibility. And, so he immediately dismissed them.
With slumped shoulders and his noticeably meek body language, Myron walked even slower back towards the flat rocks, which they had been sitting upon before.
He waited.
Myron looked out towards the lake and began to reminisce about the times he had with his alluring, blonde wife when they first met. He felt as if he was a good husband to her as well as a good provider.
"She must certainly think I am a good man." He thought.
