Thread: The Grand Party! (Jack Stalker and  Susel)

When Mr. Alba locked the door behind them Kristen raised her eyebrows in surprise for an instant. Before she could finish her thought process however, the tall black man continued his grasp of her waist and shoved her along towards the middle of the huge room. She couldnt help but smile a little when he ordered drinks and started to talk again. In that way they were all the same. They like hearing them self talk and usually they point out how great they are in the process. In that regard Mr. Alba seemed to be no exception. The commanding tone in his deep voice left no doubt that he was used to give orders and though not consciously, Kristen was used to follow orders. She stepped towards the table, her high heels clicking in a steady rhythm on the expensive Macassar Ebony floor. The young woman could almost feel his eyes on her thin stature, taking in her fragile body, eyeing the long legs with lust. He wasnt the first to stare at her and he would not be the last and Kristen never minded the looks. After she had taken two glasses and filled them with ice, she poured one of the expensive whiskeys that her father owned into them. A Glenfiddich from 1937. Her father had bought the bottle at an auction in 2006 for 20,000 Dollars. Out of the huge collection of rare alcoholic beverages that were part of the inventory of the Steward's Mansion, this one was one of the special ones. Her father would approve without a doubt that this occasion was fitting to pour some of it. While the brunette in the small black dress was concentrating on not spilling any of the costly drink, she couldn't help herself but glance at his lower body for an instant. Asking herself inside her head if the stereotype is true and that all black man are well endowed down there. Thinking of such a thing made her cheeks blush slightly and she was glad that Mr. Alba could not read her mind. The moment he started to talk about what kind of girl he thought she is, her eyes gazed up from the drinks and towards him. She smiled politely until he mentioned the possibility of her father being a closet racist. At these words her face screwed up and she slowly shook her head without interrupting him. In a world where image and money is everything it is wise to keep delicate opinions to yourself and thats exactly what her father had always done. The issue of race was one with blurred lines anyway. She knew her father disliked the poor black population. In private he called them thugs and prated about how they drag down the economy, how they are mostly criminals and rapists. Yet regarding men like Mr. Alba his demeanour was quite the opposite. Though that mostly originated from the simple fact that her father respected power and money. So in order to secure the support of men like Mr. Alba, John Steward would never mention his true point of view. After all, politics were a game that was played with wits and opportunism. Personally her father wasn't interest in racial equality at all, but he wasn't interested in general equality either. He was only interested in his own power and range of influence. She grabbed both glasses and took the few steps towards Mr. Alba, where his impressive stature had seated himself on the edge. Shamelessly he was staring at her legs again and Kristen started to wonder how appealing she was for him, or if he just stared at every pretty girl like that. Her facial expression had changed back to the small smirk, which usually never failed its charming purpose. Mr. Alba, I am horrified that you would even consider the possibility of my father being a secret racist., she answered indignantly, though still smirking. She handed him one of the glasses and continued. It is almost insulting. I am sure you are well aware of the many charities and projects my father has supported over the years in order to fight for equality. Not to mention the countless non-white men and women who work in my father's businesses. My father has one of the highest percentage in the country regarding race variety in his enterprises. I am also sure you know that the COO of the Steward Investment Bank is black. Kristen knew how to make a point, after all she had played the part of the smart, supporting and caring daughter for a while now. She conveniently withheld the fact that she had heard her own father say that the choice of a black COO was only a PR-Stunt and as the CEO of the same company her father was holding all of the power anyway. The black COO was merely a puppet he was controlling. So of course my father is not a racist and of course he is worth supporting Mr. Alba. Despite being rich, he truly seeks improvement for all Americans. The senate is only one step of many, as his ambitions go much further. I think you can imagine where the road ends one day and wouldn't you say having a friend on the top of the highest ladder is a cause worth supporting?, she went on in her clear, almost musical voice. It was shallow talk, but that's how the game was played. She waited for a moment, taking in his reaction before she sat down on the table right next to Mr. Alba, crossing her legs immediately. It is true that money and power can be appealing, though these are not the only traits a women looks for in a man., she chuckled and took a sip from the whiskey. Only barely able to mask the strong reaction the walnut coloured drink was causing in her throat. Obviously I do not discriminate and I want my father to do well. I will support him in every way I can., the last words felt somewhat bitter. The slender brunette was not sure how Mr. Alba meant his last words, was he flirting? Was he implying that she would have to please him beyond this casual walkabout in the Steward Mansion? Not having the time to ponder all her thoughts she replied to his last question. What I want? It's simple really, I want my father to succeed, I want him to become Senator. She took another sip of the drink and glared at the big black man opposite of her.