Free IF YOU WANTED THE MOON by Mallory Monroe

Chandler. She knew it from the moment she first saw him. And the idea of an interracial relationship never bothered her because it wasn’t
    something that she had seriously thought about. Al of her closest friends were black and they al dated and married black. There was never any reason to be opinionated about it. She knew it was a controversial thing. She knew about those times when a brother would walk into a restaurant or into a movie theater with a white woman on his arm and her girlfriends would nudge her and nod their heads, as if they were more than happy to publicaly display their displeasure. But that had never bothered Tori. As far as she was concerned life was too short to categorize God’s children. If he was a good man with striped skin, she’d consider him. But he had to be a good man.

    And that, more than race, was the problem with her attraction to Ethan Chandler. Was he a good man? Or was he the monster many made him out to be? She’d be curious to find out. But not like
    this. Not in this love shack of his. Tori knew the deal. She’d seen Chandler in too many magazines with too many different women on his arms. And she knew that the one thing every one of those females in every one of those articles had in common with each other wasn’t just the fact that they’d been on Ethan Chandler’s arm, but also the fact that they never were around by the time the next article was written. And Tori knew she wasn’t about to let some white man, or any man for that matter, turn her into yesterday’s news.

    The Sunshine Café had been crowded at lunchtime, but by the time Ethan and Tori arrived only a handful of customers remained. They took a seat at a table near the old-fashioned jukebox and, after
    ordering cokes and sandwiches, leaned back and listened to the music. It was hardly either’s favorite, the Beach Boys singing Wouldn’t It Be Nice . But at least, Tori thought, it was upbeat.

    Ethan, who had peeled out of his suit coat and now was in white shirt sleeves, leaned back against his chair, sipping from his coke, and staring at Tori. She was troubled, he could tel. He just couldn’t figure out why.

    “What’s the matter?” he finaly decided to ask her.

    She looked at him and tried to smile. “Nothing,” she replied.

    “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

    Tori hesitated. Would he be nasty or nice, she wondered, if she told him what she was truly thinking? Mildred said he once fired a man for asking too many questions, and, given Tori’s natural propensity to do the same, she advised Tori to remember that. Tori didn’t believe it for a second but, she thought, what if it were true? “Nothing’s wrong, Mr. Chandler, thanks for asking,” she decided to say.

    Ethan exhaled. One day somebody was going to cut that let me tell you what you want to hear so I can get what I want from you routine, and tel it to him straight. He once thought Tori could be that person. “Eat your sandwich, you haven’t touched it,” he said.

    Tori smiled at his concern and took a big bite out of her liverwurst. It wasn’t exactly Chicago style, but it was edible. She nodded as she chewed. “Not bad,” she said. “It’s pretty good then?”

    “It ain’ slammin’,” Tori said in her best street slang voice, and Ethan laughed. “I ain’t saying that. But it’s okay.”

    Ethan nodded his understanding and took a bite himself. Tori looked at him, as he chewed and drank his coke, a man with everything, she thought, who knew how to keep it real. Surely a man like that wouldn’t fire her for being inquisitive. And even if he would, she decided, it was her life, her time on this island, she had a right to know. “May I ask you something, Mr. Chandler?” she said.
    wouldn’t fire her for being inquisitive. And even if he would, she decided, it was her life, her time on this island, she had a right to know. “May I ask you something, Mr. Chandler?” she said.

    Ethan finished chewing his