Confessions Of A Vixen

31|Final Print Copy

November 1997

The end of the first semester was approaching. My time with Miranda was going so smoothly. Besides the fact that she was hot, she was a wise and dependable woman. She urged everyone around her to go after something they had never thought of having. I saw why Prince needed her so much.

This day, Miranda and I were working together on lesson plans for next semester. During this time, I was helping grade finals assignments for finals. I searched my email while she discussed plans for the remainder of the school year with me.

"Yea, so next week, I'll give updates on finals and articles transcripts -" she paused to look up at me. "Janet, are you getting this all down?" It was five minutes ago. While she was speaking, I clicked on one email.

"Hello, Janet. We want to congratulate you on your acceptance into the New York Times Company. We look forward to your internship with us." I screamed into the small room. Miranda jumped in her chair. "What?" She looked ghosted. "I got in! I'm in." She knew what I was talking about, as she was one of my recommendations.

"Oh my god, Janet! Congrats!" She got up from her seat to give me a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around her to return the genuine embrace. "Thank you. I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me in these short months."

Miranda waved me off. "Oh, don't mention it. I'm glad to help at least one student." She went back to the desk and started packing up. I was confused because we had so much to finish and prepare before our following lecture. "Um, where are you going? We have a lot to do."

She looked up and walked past me. "Oh, I know. We won't finish tonight because it's time to celebrate." I was still sitting with my laptop in my lap. "Well, come on. Happy hour is approaching, ma'am." She tapped her petite wrist.

I stood up and widened my arms to stretch. We were there for hours. While I placed my computer in my bag, I peeked at my watch. The time was 7 pm. It was not too late or too early, but every time was a perfect time for a drink. When I was ready, we both took the elevator downstairs.

Miranda was our ride because she had picked me up earlier that day. The receptionist, Laura, waved at us. We both waved back with a smile. A good night was about to become great. She drove us to a local upscale bar/lounge. Local, meaning her office was in one of the sought-after buildings in D.C.

When she parked, we both dug in our purses for our makeup bags. We both renewed our lipsticks and patted our faces.  That's what I loved about Miranda; she was what many women would be ideally. It was like we were twins that day.

Miranda and I wore loose-bottomed slacks with fitted long-sleeve blouses. We loosen a few buttons before getting out of the car. "Aren't you married, Ms. Miranda?" I referred to a leveled-up appearance. "Always keep them looking, no matter the status, Janet."

She pecked my nose with her finger before opening the glass door for us. When we walked in, it was beginning to fill up. It was 8 pm on a Friday. She took my hand to lead me to the bar. We took a seat and waited for the bartender to get to us.

"Hello, what would you beautiful ladies like?" He placed his hands at the edge of the ledge. The man was handsome, nothing to rave home about but good enough to take home. I felt fruity that night. "Hello, can I get a strawberry martini with a strawberry on top?"

"I'll have the same. Thank you." She turns to me and gently taps the table. "So, now that you're in, what's the plan?" I knew I would get in, so I had planned this front-to-back for years. "I mean, you know, work while finishing up school. Then, head up to New York after the summer. Sniff it out; see how I like it. I have a good enough resume to switch if needed."