Keeping the Juices Flowing

By G. G. Davenport

Cecily Westbrook is a Jamaican and African American mixed, 27 year-old female. She is beautiful, intelligent, has a good job and a gorgeous boyfriend. She is independent, lives alone and is very private. Cecily is a simple, yet complex person. Her one and only dilemma is that she has no idea why the love of her life has become the latest statistic in the missing persons file, or has he? After years of numerous failed relationships, Cecily realizes that she has been tied emotionally to several meaningless relationships. When her current boyfriend ceases to exist, Cecily chugs all of her conventional attitudes in the trashcan and goes for an excursion on the wild side. She encounters some old-world and new world things with acquaintances as well as strangers. She fears losing touch with herself in the may lay, and struggles to keep the essence of who she really is in tact. But while abandoning all of her senses, she plunges head first into an abyss of sex and wild imaginings, or is it? The novel takes curves with ease and dares the reader to sit back and relax until its surprising ending.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 8, 2005
• ISBN: 9781463471583

G. G. Davenport

1963 was a very volatile time in America, but a blissful time in the home of author G.G. Davenport. Born in February of that year to striving African American parents in South Florida, she was reared with 2 sisters and three brothers. Ms. Davenport was schooled in the Palm Beach County School System, where she currently teaches reading to struggling readers. Due to her own reluctance to reading in the past, teaching reading to others has given her an appreciation for reading and its importance. “Reading was something I wasn’t that fond of, I did it but, I didn’t care for it that much. I’d just as soon write some entries in a makeshift diary of spiral bound paper and a 3-ring binder. I wrote about whatever I wanted to write about.” During her career path, Ms. Davenport acquired a B.A. in Radio and Television Broadcasting. And after working a brief time in a television station she quickly found that the media industry was not where she wanted to be. “Mass Media unfortunately tends to thrive on the negative aspects of life with little emphasis on the positive. Writing has allowed me the opportunity to explore what’s good in life, different emotions and feelings.”

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The object of Charles’ desire was 27 year-old Cecily Westbrook. She was 5’7, 150 pounds, dark hair, and dreamy looking eyes. She had a pair of legs that made men pause and do a double take whenever she entered the scene. Her legs were long, lean and authoritative. There was something about her presence that attracted men to her, despite how she may be feeling on any given day. Basically she was drop dead gorgeous. Cecily was a mix between Paula Abdul and Tyra Banks. She was long and curvaceous like Tyra, with a golden radiant complexion like Paula. Cecily knew she was good looking, so sometimes she didn’t mind playing with men’s weaknesses in a flirty kind of way. But being stared at for hours in the professional setting had become a necessary nuisance for her. And besides her boss was married, and for that reason only, he was kind of off limits.

On this particular morning, Charles was in his office and Cecily was busily working on the history of a business merger when she decided to have a cup of coffee. She put her pen behind her ear into her dark hair and rose from her chair to head toward the coffee machine. Cecily was immaculately dressed as she had been on every day since being hired. She wore a black pinstriped suit, of which she took the coat off and draped over the back of her chair before she headed down the hall. The heels she wore with her suit seemed best suited for a lady of the evening outfit, but because she was in total control of herself, the shoes did not take away from the suit in the slightest, in fact they only helped to enhance her ensemble and her legs even more. Whether Mr. James or anyone else was watching was irrelevant on one hand to Cecily, yet important on the other. Every woman wants to know that she can attract a look or a stare from a man no matter how disturbing it may or may not be, and Cecily was no different. Mr. James on a regular basis confirmed for Cecily that she still had it going on. Mr. James was in his office when he noticed Cecily heading for coffee; he sat up at attention and began to watch Cecily.

She peered around the wall of her office toward the coffee pot, adjusted her clothes, smiled and headed off. Cecily knew without a shadow of doubt that Mr. James was watching so she put a little more strut in her walk. As she walked, she placed one foot in front of the other ever so carefully, just like the runway models do in Paris. As she approached the coffee maker, the side door to the lounge swung open in front of her just barely hitting her, and in walked the UPS deliveryman with his usual delivery. Totally taken by her presence, the deliveryman apologized for his blunder, sat his packages down right in the middle of the floor, and preceded the rest of the way with her to get coffee. The UPS guy was blessed with the gift for gab, and a knack for clumsiness. He spilled sugar on the counter, dumped cream on the floor, and poured coffee on his shoes. By being so absorbed in Cecily, and repeatedly apologizing for his blunders, he didn’t even realize he had fixed Cecily a cup of coffee, she had taken it, and was headed back to her office without saying more than five words to him. He stood there drooling and watching her walk all the way back to her work area, only coming out of his daze by almost getting hit with the door himself. He gathered his packages and left the area in a fog, forgetting what he had come there for.

As Cecily rounded the corner to her office unaffected by the unimpressive UPS guy, she glanced up at Charles’ office, and there he sat gazing down at her. Being caught a little off guard, she smiled agitatedly, waved and returned to her desk. Mr. James did not wave in return, instead he watched her sit her cup down, position her skirt underneath herself, take her pen from her hair, and resume working on what she had taken a break from. She knew that Mr. James was watching and so did everyone else in his office. From her desk she could see Mr. James finally come out of his state of confusion when someone knocked on the long conference table he was sitting at. Startled, he shook his head, repositioned the papers in front of him and continued with the meeting he was in with other partners. Everything had to be repeated.

Cecily sat mostly at her desk while she worked, only venturing to the coffee machine twice during the day, and to Charles’ office when summoned. Feeling a little degraded made Cecily withdraw at work, but return to herself when she left the confines of her job. She worked very diligently on her work, and very seldom received any personal phone calls. All her incoming calls were of a business nature, and she made very few if any personal calls. She had a strained yet good working relationship with her co-workers currently, but dug deep to find the strength to respect them for their individual expertise. Although sometimes it seemed as though they didn’t feel the same about her. Mr. James was undoubtedly at the root of this dissension. Even though she was the newest to be hired, and was still in the learning phase of her employment with the company, Cecily was no twig to shake a stick at. Having studied abroad, and finishing from a top law school, she had all the qualifications to be a top player in this fresh new company stocked full of star players.

As usual her second cup of coffee came around 11:30. She did her thing placing her pen behind her ear, straightening her stockings, and leaving her coat behind. As she glanced around the office she noticed that Charles and the other male associates had left for early lunches. She wasn’t so eager to get coffee this time; I guess it was because her trip to the machine would prove uneventful. She returned to her desk disappointed, and ate her bag lunch alone in her office.

When Charles and the others returned from their meetings and extended lunches, it was near the end of the workday, they entered engrossed in robust laughter. Cecily sat at her desk completing the finishing touches of a business merger. As Charles and the others dispersed he could see Cecily bent over near her computer. She seemed to be having trouble with it. Charles suddenly began to feel a rise in his anatomy. So he laid his doggy bag down on his desk, adjusted his manhood and turned to go and assist her, when out of nowhere in his doorway stood Cecily. She stood there poised and elegant with outreached hands saying, Here are your papers on the merger you requested, Mr. James. I worked through lunch so I would have it ready for you today.

Charles stammered, Thank-you Ms. Westbrook. I was just about to see if you needed assistance with your printer.

It’s fine Mr. James, she said, It couldn’t be better. I dropped my pen, and it rolled under the printer.

Oh, said Mr. James. Taking a glance at the merger, Charles said to Cecily, Come in Ms. Westbrook, have a seat.

Is there something wrong with the merger? asked Cecily.

No, it seems fine. It’s just that I’ve been wanting to talk with you for quite some time now, said Charles, taking a seat also.

What about? said Cecily.

Well I just wanted to let you know I’m very pleased with your work, and feel it’s about time for a review, which would result in an increase in your salary, said Charles.

Seemingly shocked, Cecily said, So soon, Mr. James, I’ve only been here for six months, and a usual review would occur after a year of service.

Well, because we are a privately owned company we have a little more latitude with promotions, said Charles, smiling sheepishly.

Looking intently at Mr. James, Cecily said, How does that work?

Well it’s simple, when I cut your check, you’ll see an additional $250 bi-weekly. How does that sound? asked Mr. James?

That’s great! I can finally get a better apartment. Thanks Mr. James" said Cecily as she stood to leave.

Charles interrupted awkwardly, Wait Cecily, there is one other matter I’d like to discuss with you. Cecily sat back down in the chair with her leg shaking. How would you like to have dinner with me one night Cecily? asked Charles.

Cecily speaking bizarrely asked, Aren’t you married Mr. James?

Well that’s what the certificate says, said Charles.

What does your wife say? asked Cecily.

She barely has time for me, she’s a doctor on call all the time. Most nights I have dinner alone, and my kids are grown and have lives of their own, said Mr. James.

Cecily looked at Mr. James, down at the floor, then back up at Charles flushed face, then she caught a glimpse of herself in the window, her legs were crossed, and she was leaning quite seductively in her chair. She thought to herself if she were a man she probably would be carrying on like Mr. James too. What came so naturally to Cecily was at times a hindrance for her well-being. Seeing her body language she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward to talk to Mr. James.

Cecily blurted out, I have one question Mr. James.

Fire away Ms. Westbrook with your question, said Mr. James.

Does my raise have anything to do with your dinner invitation?

Whatever do you mean by that Ms. Westbrook? asked Charles.

I just find it odd that you would connect the two thoughts in the same breath, said Cecily smiling back at Mr. James.

Ms. Westbrook, I do find you extremely attractive, but your work record stands alone, said Mr. James.

Cecily paused, graceful as always, stood up, adjusted her well-put together clothes and smiled again at Mr. James, and said in a hushed voice leaning over his desk to give him a peek into her low cut blouse, In that case, I decline the offer.

CHAPTER TWO

Does this story sound typical to you? Well maybe it is but to me it is far from typical. It is my story, Cecily Westbrook, of how good things can go haywire before you know it right before your eyes. I guess I should go back and tell you some of how I arrived in this predicament. I was born in California to an African American father, and a Jamaican bred mother. To some that’s not a big deal, but to me it was because I didn’t look anything like my parents. I love my parents to death, but where did I come from? My father was black with the kinkiest hair you could imagine, and my mother was a good looking black