AuthorSuite Blog: #MFRWhooks: Young, Carefree and Broke…

A black man, a white girl, and a deceptive job offer

#RomanticThriller #Interracial #Blackmail

Femi, a young, black graduate with a First Class degree in Chemistry, has no long-term ambitions until he meets Jessica Rhodes, a blonde exchange student from San Diego. When they land two spectacular job offers within the first week of graduation, their bleak honeymoon is transformed into a dream. Egged on by a free trip to New York to evaluate one offer and a 30-day grace period to accept the other, they are surprised to find their future dangling over a multi-billion dollar cliff-hanger as they hop across the Atlantic. What they don't know is that undisclosed details of the deal will not only pitch them against each other but will also drag them to the place where dreams end and nightmares begin.

Will their fragile marriage survive the greed, the captivating allure of Black Gold, and that vile, ancient tradition that seeks to determine who should be married and to whom?

Blurb

He’s black. She’s white. And they think nothing of it until he takes her home...

The scene where the young man takes his new American bride back to visit his parents without having first informed them of her existence is riveting, agonizing, and devastating as he runs unsuspectingly into a titanic clash between his parents’ traditional values and his European education, and this passage stands out as a gem in 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝.

The Hook - {Book Excerpt}

The splendid country-style bistro named Replay Café was located on Rue Grimaldi in the heart of Monte Carlo. It was a chic spot for high rollers and charming tourists, and its best-selling drink was the champagne-based l’apèritif Stephanie, a compulsive choice for the glamorous people who patronized it.

This evening—the last day of Femi and Jessica’s short-lived honeymoon—the bistro was packed, as usual, with many of its patrons waiting in line for a chance to enter. Notwithstanding the long queue, the honeymooning couple successfully bluffed their way in and found a table at the rear of the café beside a group of young, extravagant tourists, who were guzzling the expensive, sought-after drink and chattering away in French.

No sooner had they settled in than a waiter stepped forward, making them exchange gloomy glances. “Should we stay?”

Jessica’s gaze dropped to the fancy tablecloth. Teeth gritted, she sat still, unsure of what to do.

Femi gazed at her in trepidation, embarrassment oozing from every pore of his skin the way sweat seeps through a runner’s shirt. Short on cash, he realized he couldn’t afford two glasses of the drink though he was eager to treat her to it.

The waiter reached their table. “Hi,” she smiled.

Jessica lifted her face. “L’apèritif Stephanie,” she said in a steady voice. “One glass.”

The waiter glanced sideways at Femi, nodded and turned without speaking.

“We can afford one glass, right?” Jessica mumbled, averting her gaze. “I think it’s better than walking out in embarrassment, don’t you agree?”

“I agree,” Femi’s gaze remained on her face. “One day…” he said.

Jessica waved him to silence. “We’ll share it,” she offered, reaching for his hand on the table. “I understand, okay? Now, don’t give me that look.”

His gaze moved from her face to their clasped hands. He grimaced. “Okay.”

They lapsed into silence until the drink arrived. The surrounding noise increased. Gleeful laughter filled the bistro. Several couples, including new arrivals, chatted, laughed, and kissed. In silence, the duo sipped the drink through two straws, listening to the loud chatter at the nearby table with increasing discomfort.

“It’s the eve of our D-day…” Femi whispered, watching Jessica over his straw.

“Don’t say that,” she rebuked him in a mild voice. “It’s just the beginning. We have two offers on the table; we only have to decide which one to accept.”

Femi exhaled. “We know nothing about this VenChemical Group except that it is based in New York and its chairman is Italian,” he paused and regarded her. “If we accept their offer, we don’t quite know where they’ll send us.”

“New York,” Jessica said without hesitation.

“I doubt it. I was interviewed for their Africa Operations Unit, I’m not sure that’s based in New York.”

Jessica sipped the champagne-based drink and gazed thoughtfully at him. “Well, we’ll be in New York in the first week of your employment, isn’t that what they said? The orientation…”

“Yes, yes,” he nodded. “The orientation program comes first and then the moment of truth.”

“You aren’t considering the NNPC offer first, are you?”

Femi puffed his cheeks in thought.

“I mean, they gave you until the end of the month to respond…”

“I know,” he averted his gaze, pondering the job offer from the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation—NNPC—a seemingly simple decision that was somehow enmeshed in the complexity of his craving for foreign currency.

Jessica regarded him. “If you choose the NNPC, I’ll understand,” she hesitated for a fraction of a second. “It’ll be like a homecoming for you, right?” She breathed. “You know I’ll live with you anywhere but if you think about it, the VenChemical Group is offering you a better condition of service and they’ll be paying you in dollars.”

Femi did not respond.

“Listen, seeing as we have until the end of the month to respond to the NNPC, why don’t we play all the cards?”

He looked up. “You mean, going to New York tomorrow to assess the VenChemical offer?”

“Right,” Jessica beamed. “After all it’s an all-expenses-paid trip. If it works out, we stay, if not we go to Lagos and take up the NNPC job.”

Their eyes locked.

She softened her face when he smiled. “Would you have acted differently if I were the one with two job offers on the table?”

“Nope,” he shook his head and a broad smile crossed his face.