ago and had been together since.
The day they met, Carolyn, had been working as a server at a posh dinner reception in Idlewild, where she was spending the summer season. She had stepped over to a table full of what she knew were rich people visiting from the city to serve them coffee after their fancy dinner. As she poured the hot drink, her eyes had danced up, and she’d locked eyes with a handsome young man. He had to be the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her short eighteen years of living. He was definitely better looking than any boy Carolyn had ever laid eyes on in her tiny Michigan hometown.
Carolyn’s perfect caramel face turned red when the beautiful guy cracked a smile at her. His striking grin caused her hands to shake so badly, she’d almost spilled coffee on their table. Carolyn rushed away, embarrassed and scared to death that she might lose her job. It was her first summer season and her first month at the restaurant. In Yates Township, Michigan, there weren’t a lot of jobs in those days, and so when Carolyn graduated high school, she knew she would have to try something different. Most of the girls from her town went to work in Idlewild either as waitresses or housekeepers, and Carolyn felt she had won the lottery when she landed a job in a restaurant instead of having to clean someone’s house. Losing her job would be a devastating blow.
“Oh my God,” she huffed as she rushed toward the servers’ area, her heart galloping. Carolyn put down the fancy silver coffeepot, let out the breath she’d been holding, and wiped her sweat-drenched hands on the little white server’s apron she wore around her waist.
“You’re stupid if you think that city boy was even thinking about you,” said a stern female voice.
Carolyn jumped and spun around at the sound of her boss’s voice. “Um, no. I . . . I . . . wasn’t,” she stammered, her eyes wide with fear.
“I saw him smile at you and you look at him with loving eyes. I know that look, girl. That’s the kind of cruel shit these little rich bastards do all the time. They try to see how far they can go with you, but they don’t really want a poor little server girl. His mama and papa wouldn’t even let him toss a nickel at you, much less date you, so just get your head out of the clouds right now,” Carolyn’s boss said with disgust in her tone. “Keep your head in this here work, so we can get through this night without any mishaps. You want to keep your job, don’t you?”
Carolyn shook her head up and down vigorously. “Ye-yes, Ms. Carmen. I . . . I will keep my eyes to the floor from now on,” Carolyn assured her, her entire body hot with shame.
“Good. Now it’s time to start the cleanup,” her boss said, tossing a cleaning chamois in her direction.
Carolyn scrambled to pick up the rag. She was glad to be dismissed from that conversation. She rushed away, ready to work and eager to keep her job.
The gorgeous guy boldly approached her at the end of the dinner reception. Carolyn, being from the country, had no idea who he was. She later found out that everyone who was anyone in Idlewild knew who Ernest Johnson was—the gorgeous and very wealthy son of Bernard Johnson, Chicago’s most wealthy black businessman. The Johnsons owned Idlewild’s most exclusive club, the Point, and were at the center of the illustrious social scene. It was a well-known fact that Ernest Johnson could have any girl he wanted. Not only was he strikingly attractive, but he was also rich and single, and the opportunities that came his way were abundant. He was twenty-five and number one on the most eligible bachelor list, a fact that was completely lost on Carolyn when Ernest approached her, flashing his perfect smile and displaying the charm of those Prince Charming types that she’d read about in books as a young girl in the South.
Standing together, they looked like the mismatched pair that they were. Carolyn was dressed in a server’s outfit, with her dark brown hair drawn into a tight bun and her makeup-free face flushed red. The handsome stranger, on the other hand, looked rich in his custom tuxedo and diamond cuff links. Together they looked like master and servant.
“You are stunning,” he said to her. “I’m Ernest. It’s so nice to meet you.” His smile was electric.
Carolyn felt dizzy, and her legs almost buckled. A whoosh of breath involuntarily left her lungs through her mouth in response to his smooth baritone. She couldn’t speak a word. Although she looked like a grown woman, Carolyn was only eighteen years old and had never gone on a date. In that moment, she was overwhelmed by Ernest’s beautiful slanted hazel eyes and his neatly trimmed jet-black hair. He reminded Carolyn of a model she’d seen on a billboard. Looking at him made her pulse quicken, so she lowered her eyes, stared down at her feet, and smiled girlishly.
“You probably say that to one hundred girls per day,” Carolyn murmured, still avoiding direct eye contact.
“I haven’t seen one as beautiful as you in a long time,” Ernest replied, using his pointer finger to push her chin up so she was forced to look at him.
Carolyn reluctantly locked eyes with him, and when he smiled, she swore she could feel her heart melting and oozing down her insides. Standing in his presence, Carolyn forgot she was working and might lose her job by fraternizing with the wealthy guests. She forgot everything, and in that moment, she felt like they were the only two people in the large, crowded ballroom. They spent a few more minutes laughing and talking, until Ms. Carmen peeked around the wall separating the servers’ area from the reception hall. Ms. Carmen had a powerful gaze that could stop a giant in his tracks.
“Um, I . . . I’ve got to go,” Carolyn said nervously, her words rushing out. She had felt Ms. Carmen’s eye slap all too well. She turned and strode away.
“Wait . . . I didn’t get your name,” Ernest called after her.
She stopped, turned around, and mouthed her name to him, hoping that Ms. Carmen wouldn’t catch any of it. Then she turned around again and started walking.
“How do I find you?” he yelled at her back.
Carolyn couldn’t turn around to answer, but she dropped something on the floor in her wake. It was a white paper napkin. She could hear his footsteps behind her and hoped he would pick it up. She had quickly scribbled her information down on the napkin. Carolyn didn’t see him do it, but Ernest picked up the napkin and pushed it into his lapel pocket.
The next day Carolyn returned to the house she and some friends lived in for the summer season to find a note stuck to the door of the tiny room she rented.
“I paid this month,” she grumbled, annoyed to think her landlord was trying to fleece her for extra money again. With her hands shaking, she quickly opened the note. She read it and read it again. She sucked in her breath, flabbergasted.
I can’t stop thinking of you. I hope you don’t think this is invasive, but I had to find you. Please call. Ernest Johnson. 312-998-4560.
Carolyn rushed through the door and collapsed on her bed, weak with joy. She kicked her legs in the air and squealed. But then Ms. Carmen’s words played back in her ears. That’s the kind of cruel shit these little rich bastards do all the time. They try to see how far they can go with you, but they don’t really want a poor little server girl. His mama and papa wouldn’t even let him toss a nickel at you, much less date you.
Carolyn’s joy quickly faded. She crumpled up the paper and tossed it across her room.
“Ms. Carmen is right. A man like that is totally out of my league,” she grumbled aloud, staring up at her dingy off-white ceiling. She sighed and turned onto her side. “When you’re poor, you stay poor. The rich stay with their own kind,” she said out loud. Those were some of the
