Zero Degrees Part 1

Chapter 3

Seantay

My parents arrived from Dubai a few days later loaded with shopping bags. I couldn’t wait to see what they’d gotten for me. I was a daddy’s girl, but I wasn’t that close to my mother. She took more to Seandra. It was probably because Seandra looked and acted just like her. They both worshipped money and their men.

My mother’s mother was Korean and her father was Black. They’d met in New York when grandfather was a world-renowned photojournalist. Yasho Min was a beautiful Korean American Broadcasting student at NYU. They fell in love and had two sons and one daughter. My mother was the youngest.

Yasho Min and Darryl Robertson both landed their dream jobs at CNN. They traveled around the world with their three kids and made lots of money during their careers. My mother started modeling at the age of thirteen and lived a charmed life. She was spoiled rotten and in a house full of men often got her way. She entered pageants as a preteen and with her rare exotic beauty brought home most of the titles. This led to her modeling career. She mostly did print ads because she wasn’t that tall. She stood an elegant and shapely 5’7. She knew that she was beautiful and raised us to have pride in our appearance. With her beauty, confidence and poise came the snobby attitude of a woman raised with riches. I knew that she loved me, but we had a major difference of opinion.

Although we had money I was not as stuck up as she wanted me to be. True, I was arrogant and conceited at times, but I never turned my nose up at what she referred to as “common people”. Common people, according to my mother, were those individuals who didn’t earn over a million dollars annually. I found those people very intriguing.

“Seantay, darling,” my mother said in her usually over exaggerated way. “Come and give your mother and father a hug. We haven’t seen you in weeks.”

We hugged and she kissed my cheeks lightly. Next I hugged my father.

“Sweetheart, Jacques took the bags upstairs. We have some things for you and your sisters,” he said once we’d separated.

I nodded and figured I’d go peek through the bags later.

Mother sat down and kicked her royal blue Prada pumps off. “My feet are killing me. Sean, sweetheart can you please massage your wife’s feet?”

Dad sat down like the hen pecked sap that he was and rubbed her feet.

My parents were “the perfect couple”, or so everyone thought. They appeared to be perfect because they looked so perfect together. Mom was gorgeous, and dad was extremely handsome. My father was 5’11, with gray Smokey Robinson eyes, creamy, smooth skin, wavy salt and pepper hair, nice lips and a wide masculine smile. Mother had a perfect deep brown complexion, firm skin, dimples, dark, exotic eyes, long, thick lashes, perfectly arched eyebrows, and full seductive lips. They’d played the part of “the perfect couple” for years; however their relationship was far from perfect. As I watched them, I realized that although they weren’t perfect they seemed to be made for one another. It was obvious that my father would never leave my mother and vice versa.

I slowly worked my way up the stairs to my parents’ bedroom. Of course their room was extravagant. It was decorated in beige, dark brown and gold. My mother loved silk, so the sheets, comforter and curtains were all Egyptian Silk. The plush, beige mink carpet was soft and pleasant to my feet. I looked around and spotted the shopping bags in the corner of the studio apartment sized bedroom. My mother had very elegant taste and I was hoping for jewelry. I’d hinted around that I wanted a rare, very expensive black diamond tennis bracelet. I’d seen it online a few months ago. When I found out that my parents were going to Dubai I begged them to get it for me.

My parents would go on vacation and bring us gifts all the time. It was one of the few things mother did to show her love for us. Well, with the exception of Seandra. All of the affection that was left was all thrown on our father, her other prized possession. Dad told me the story of how they’d met a thousand times. Unlike my mom, daddy was a self made man. His parents were both born in New Orleans. They’d owned a local restaurant for fifteen years. When daddy was seventeen years old his father went bankrupt and was forced to sell his business. They were eventually facing foreclosure on their home and had to move to the worst part of the city.

Father didn’t succumb to the streets, or constant teasing of other kids like his siblings. He graduated from high school at the top of his class, received his Bachelor of Architecture from UCLA and his Masters in Business from Harvard. He was very driven and when he had his mind on something he was determined. He was also determined to not repeat the same mistakes in business that his father had made.

One day my father was flipping through a magazine on a flight to Los Angeles when he saw a gorgeous, exotic looking woman in a perfume advertisement. He was in love with this woman at first sight. He’d just been hired as one of the promising new executives at a very prominent Architectural Firm in Miami, Fla. His starting salary was seventy five thousand a year. It wasn’t much, but he was well on his way.

Two years later daddy was promoted to Vice President of the company. His salary was now one hundred fifty thousand a year. His reputation as a lucrative businessman was growing and after a few years he was ready to invest in his own business. One thing he realized was that he would need to do some major networking. He’d met some very prestigious people during his time at the architectural firm. One of his clients happened to be a famous photojournalist for CNN. He’d been doing business with the firm for a while and was a satisfied client. Mr. Robertson encouraged him to do his own thing independently and even decided to invest in the young man’s company. He would later invest in daddy’s real estate ventures and his hotel chain. Father had paid him back ten times over since then.

On the day of the grand opening of father’s first architectural firm Mr. Robertson’s daughter flew in from Milan to visit her parents. She hardly spent time in the states, but her father insisted that she meet the ambitious young man that he’d grown very fond of. To make a long story short, my mother was the beautiful model in the perfume advertisement. She was even more beautiful to him in person. Over time they got to know one another. Daddy told me that mom was very seductive and sexy back then. He said that after one night with her he was whipped. It was too much information, but I thought it was so cute. I guess all the Beauvois women had that power. Well, at least I did. About a year after they were married Renell was born.

I looked through the bags and took out every last box with my name on it. So far none of them were small enough to hold a bracelet. I was so disappointed, until I spotted my name on a box in the last bag. I tore the box open and pulled the beautiful bracelet out. Aww, she had remembered. I was surprised that she’d been able to get the bracelet in the first place. There were only three more in the world like it. I ran down the stairs to thank my mother.





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