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Chapter 3

Robin was starting to break a sweat. Twenty minutes left on the

treadmill. She tugged at the elastic of her sports bra, hating the way
sweat always seemed to accumulate right in between her breasts.
Another glance at her watch told her that her heart rate was at a
moderate level. It was twenty minutes after six in the morning. The
gym was relatively empty this morning. Normally the pseudo-athletic
businessmen come in to do their morning workout two or three times a
week, and that was the extent of their exercise regimen. Robin made
it a part of her life, like brushing her teeth. She was at the gym 5 or 6
days a week, and during the spring, summer and fall she ran or inline
skated in Prospect Park. Robin paced herself, her steps echoing the
thumping bass from the Tupac compilation CD she was listening to.
Tupac was one of her favorite rappers, along with Biggie and Wu Tang.
Robin smiled as she thought about how Sean would freak out if she
were to play this CD at home. If it wasn't jazz, Sean wasn't trying to
hear it. He was not the most open-minded person Robin knew.

Fifteen minutes left. Robin increased the incline and increased

her speed. More than anything, she wanted to keep on running and
running. Anything to get away from the stress that was overwhelming
her life at the moment. She reached for the water bottle perched on
the console of the treadmill. Water sloshed over her chin as she took a
sip to soothe her burning throat. She returned the bottle to its holder
and reached for the towel. Surreptitiously glancing around to see if
anyone was looking, she lifted the lower band of her sports bra and

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wiped the sweat away, even though it would be only a matter of

moments before it accumulated again. Sean hated when she came
home sweaty from the gym. Said it made her look butch. Robin
smirked. Like he would even know a lesbian if one came up and kissed
him on the mouth.

As she continued running, Robin marveled at the fact that she

and Sean still considered themselves a couple. It was becoming
increasingly difficult to keep things peaceful between them. Robin's
avant-garde, pro-black, activist nature was not meshing well with
Sean's totally corporate, Buppie persona. When they met in college, it
was cool. They started dating in Robin’s second year. Shortly after,
Robin dropped out, but their relationship continued. And since then,
the differences in their personalities and worldviews become more
apparent. Yet, despite everything, the love was still there. However,
on days like these, when she found herself wondering if it was worth
the effort, Robin thought that maybe their time was past.

“How many miles today?” A male voice next to her asked.

Robin glanced over to the muscle-bound brotha prepping the

treadmill next to hers. “You know I gotta do my five,” she responded.
It was Carl, a sometime workout partner, and one of the few early
morning regulars at the club.

“I hear ya,” Carl said. “I got a late start this morning. Wanna get
breakfast later?”

“Can’t. Gotta run home, shower and change and then meet
Sean for breakfast.”

“Don’t make no kinda sense to go all the way back to Brooklyn

then come back into the city. What’s up, he don’t like your funky
sweaty ass?” Carl laughed.
She adjusted the incline and speed of the treadmill. "Mr.
Princeton? Oh please. He's more prissy than your flamboyant gay
ass," Robin retorted. Carl and Robin were cool enough that she could
joke like that and not have Carl get offended.

"Honey," Carl said, "are you sure he don't play for my team?
Maybe he's a switch hitter."

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Robin didn't answer right away. It wasn't the first time the
subject had been brought to her attention. And even if she didn't
admit it to a soul, she had had the same thoughts herself. "Not Sean.
That wouldn't be politically correct."

Robin finished her workout and headed to the locker room. It

would have made sense to shower and change at the gym, but Robin
hated the slimy conditions of the locker room. If it weren't for the
excellent workout facilities otherwise, she would have given up her
membership long ago. She stopped at the desk long enough to check
out the class schedule for the remainder of the week. Kickboxing
tomorrow afternoon, yeah, that sounds like a plan.

It was gonna be a bitch of a day, considering the humidity level

this early in the morning. Robin decided to take a cab home, instead
of dealing with the morning commuters. Most of the time, they didn't
want to go into Brooklyn, but being that it was rush hour she was sure
she'd have no problem.

Then again, maybe it was a problem. The third cab that stopped
for her agreed to make the trek into Brooklyn. Robin got in the rear of
the cab, feeling a little worn out from her forty minutes on the
treadmill. No matter, she'd be fine once she got into the shower. It
was pretty damn inconvenient to have to back and forth between
Brooklyn and Manhattan, but anything to avoid another argument with
Sean. Seemed like all Robin did nowadays was bend over backwards
to avoid confrontation.

Traffic was light getting back into Brooklyn, and Robin was home
in a matter of moments. Of course, living near the Manhattan Bridge
didn't hurt either. The renovated loft she lived in was another bone of
contention with Sean. He had been after her for some time to move in
with him, but she wanted her own space. And at nearly 2,000 square
feet of loft space, she had more space than she could ever want for
herself. At one time she'd had various roommates, and sublet the
space whenever the road called her, but finally, it was hers and hers
alone. Sean expected her to give the apartment up when they got
married, but Robin was determined to keep it as her own getaway
and/or office away from home. She could not picture herself living
contentedly in whitebred Connecticut without having some sort of
outlet, an escape route back to the city. Her own Underground
Railroad.

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Robin rode the rickety elevator up to her apartment. She

recalled the first time her parents came to see her place. Her father
thought this was some building where she was working, and couldn't
imagine Robin actually living in such conditions. Her mother, always
the practical one, brought along a can of roach spray and some plants.
As she unlocked the door, her eyes drifted towards the one remaining
plant, a cactus. The only kind of plant that had a chance within a fifty
foot radius of her. The huge industrial clock on the wall opposite the
door read seven forty-five, which meant she had forty-five minutes left
to get out of the house and meet Sean.
The answering machine in her living room blinked with
messages. She pressed the play button as she began to strip off her
sweaty workout gear on her way to the bedroom. David's voice was
the first she heard,

"Robbi baby, call me about that article you told me about. I

think I got an idea for you."

Next came Sean.

"I tried to reach you on your mobile phone. I guess you're at the
gym already. Can't meet you this morning, got a breakfast meeting
that came up. I'll call you later.

The tape stopped automatically at the end of the messages.

Robin returned to the living room and plopped down on the sofa naked.
Something else she wouldn't be able to do when she moved in with
Sean. Not that he wouldn't enjoy it, but it just wasn't proper. She got
her day planner out of her bag, She needed to finish her piece for The
Source magazine, and try to go see her friend Nicole at Roc-a-Fella in
hopes of setting up an interview later in the week. Other than that,
she'd be at the store today. Normally, Monday was the busiest day of
the week, but being that it was mid-August in New York, no one who
mattered was still in town.

Robin headed into the bathroom. Taking advantage of the little

bit of extra time she had this morning, she ran the water and drew a
bath. She added some bath salts she brought back from the spa in
Cali that she had visited the month before. Abruptly, she returned to
the living room to get her favorite CD, The Best of Sade. Perfect bath-
taking music. Robin dimmed the lights, climbed into the huge antique
tub that was the centerpiece of her huge bathroom and settled in for a
nice, relaxing soak.

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Tepid water against her cheek woke her up. Robin jerked her
head up, apparently having dozed off while in the tub. The CD was
currently playing The Sweetest Taboo, the fourth track, telling Robin
she’d been asleep for some time. She got out the tub, and wrapped
herself in a fluffy black towel. Everything in her bathroom was either
black or silver, even the towels, and when she could find it, the soap
too.

Sufficiently dry and lotioned, Robin opened her closet to find

something to wear. She decided on a peach colored knit tank dress. It
was thin, cool and required no ironing. All the prerequisites of her
summer wardrobe. She knelt on the floor and looked under the canopy
bed, trying to locate her white sandals. Robin bumped her head,
startled by the ringing phone. She backed her way out from under the
bed, and reached for the cordless phone, invariably tangled within the
comforter on the bed.

“Hello,” she said.

“Didn’t you get my message?” It was David, friend and

confidant. And hopefully a source she could use for her next piece.

“I just got out the tub. What’s up?”

“Did you get the go-ahead from Wired?” He asked.

“Not yet. But even if I don’t, I’m still writing the article. I know it
will sell somewhere,” she said.

“I think I’m gonna be out of town later in the week, so if we’re

gonna do this, it has to be today or tomorrow.”

“Hold on,” she said. She ran back into the living room and
picked up her planner. Opening to the current day, she picked the
phone back up. “Okay, how about tomorrow. I need to be at the store
today. I know that’s kinda out of your way, but tomorrow I’ll be
downtown around lunch. Cool?”

“Yeah, that’ll work. Holla at me in the morning and remind me

though. Shit is getting’ hectic ‘round here.”
“Will do. Peace.” Robin hung up the phone. She looked at her
watch. It was five minutes to nine. She needed to leave now if she

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was going to make it to the store by ten. Slipping on her sandals,

Robin grabbed her infamous army backpack off the bed, and dropped
her planner inside. She checked to make sure she remembered all the
essentials. Wallet, checkbook, notebook, cell phone, pager, and mini-
recorder. She snapped the bag shut and slung it over her shoulder.

Robin grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator on her

way out. She was just about to close and lock the door, when the
phone rang again. She paused, waiting for the machine to pick up. It
was Sean again. Robin started to turn back, but instead kept going.
Sean could wait until later.
Outside, Robin made a left and walked over to the High Street
subway station. She pulled out the MetroCard from her wallet, and
went downstairs to the subway platform. The stifling smell of the NYC
transit system hadn’t changed in the hundred years since its inception,
despite all of the renovations being done all over the city. She could
feel a bead of sweat trickle down her back as she waited for the train.
Perched near the edge of the platform, she craned her neck to see if
the train was coming. Nothing. Typical for a Monday morning. To
make the time pass, she got out her notebook, and made some notes
for the interview she wanted to set up with Damon Dash of Roc-a-Fella
records. Robin was deep into her notebook, she neglected to even
notice the train’s arrival until the doors had already opened. She
stepped into the subway car. Not only was it air-conditioned, she was
fortunate to find a seat near the opposite door. Less than ten minutes
later, and after having to transfer to the local, she was at the Spring
Street station.

Prestige was her Aunt Vicki’s baby. A lifelong dream of hers, she
retired, divorced her husband and opened Prestige all within a twelve-
month period. The rest of the family thought it was the most reckless
thing she could do with her retirement fund, but Aunt Vicki made it a
success, and as a result, seemed to take 15 years off her life. She was
happy, and Robin was happy for her. On occasion she worked at the
store part time while she was in high school. Robin thought of it as her
“fall-back” job. Aunt Vicki would never fire her, and always
encouraged her to follow her dreams. Her Aunt was the first person
she went to for advice when she considered dropping out of college.
Instead of lecturing, she not only agreed, but defended Robin to her
parents.

Robin unlocked the roll-down gate and unlocked the front door.
Maria should be here any minute, she thought. After turning on the

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lights, her first task was to turn on the music. One advantage of being
manager was that she chose the music, and dared anyone to complain.
Now that her Aunt was traveling more and more, the brunt of the day-
to-day responsibilities fell to Robin, or in her absence, Maria.

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