All Up In My Business (8 page)

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Authors: Lutishia Lovely

BOOK: All Up In My Business
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Malcolm nodded. Suddenly, he didn’t want to talk about Victoria, the kids, or Taste of Soul. He wanted to talk about a topic he hadn’t paid much attention to lately—himself.

As if she’d read his mind, Joyce’s next question provided the opportunity to do just that. “How do you know our esteemed councilman?”

“Jon and I went to school together.”

“Morehouse, correct?”

“Yes.” Malcolm shared a little of the good old days, when he was the big man on campus—large and in charge.

“I have a hard time envisioning you as a happy-go-lucky collegiate. You’re always so serious when I see you, so grounded. You seem to lead the life of someone well established, but you can’t be more than, what, thirty-five, six?”

“Thirty-four.” Malcolm took a sip of the drink that had remained untouched since the waiter had brought it over. “I guess I did settle down rather quickly. I married young. Victoria and I had our first child two years later and our daughter two years after that.”

“And you have twins, correct?”

“Three years old.”

“Plans for more? You know, you can have eight and get your own reality TV show.”

“Oh, no,” Malcolm said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Four is more than enough.”
And two more than I wanted
, he thought. “My baby-making days are over, at least the human kind. I have another baby I’m working on, though.”
“Oh, really?” Joyce leaned forward and placed her chin in her palm, giving Malcolm her undivided attention. She’d never talked with him about anything but food and event business, and found him fascinating. “Tell me more.”

Malcolm was just about to share his secret endeavor with Joyce when Jon came back to the table.

“Jon Abernathy,” he said, sitting down and extending his hand to Joyce.

“A pleasure to formally meet you, Councilman. Joyce Witherspoon.”

“Your face looks familiar. Where have I seen you before?”

“Any number of places. I’m an event planner and have organized several affairs for the city, including some campaign fund-raising events.”

“Yes, of course. I knew I’d seen you before.” Joyce reached into her purse and pulled out a card. She’d hoped to learn more about Malcolm but felt that rather than wear out her welcome, now was a good time to take her leave. “Malcolm, I so enjoyed visiting with you. Jon, it was a pleasure to see you again. Please keep me in mind for any social event you need planned, large or small.”

Malcolm rose and helped Joyce out of the booth. “Take care,” he said, giving her a light kiss on the temple. Her fresh, floral scent was intoxicating, a turn-on, especially for a man who’d gone months without intimacy. Yet, he forced himself not to watch her as she walked away. Rather he turned his attention to his friend.

“So … how was your fact-finding mission?”

“Successful, Malcolm. You know how I roll.”

“Oh, really, a date just like that?”

Jon had the decency to look sheepish. “Okay, more like an appointment. She just joined the Black Chamber of Commerce. I’m good friends with the president, and can, you know, help her out.”

“Uh-huh. Who’s that guy she’s with?”

Jon shrugged as he repeated the name. “She introduced him as a friend. But since I didn’t see a wedding ring, I’d say she’s fair game.” Jon looked over at her again. “
Very
fair game. She’s even more beautiful up close.”

Malcolm looked up and met Alexis’s eye. She smiled and waved, and he waved back. “Guess I should go say hello,” he said, easing up from the table. “She turned our family room into my personal paradise and did a bang-up job.”

Is that so?
Jon pondered as he watched her and Malcolm’s easygoing interaction.
Well, when I get with you, baby girl, I’ll be banging too
.

11

Z
oe pulled into the fairly crowded Taste of Soul parking lot. It had been a long Monday, and the last thing she felt like doing was cooking dinner. It had been a while since she’d eaten at the restaurant of her employ. She walked into the bar area, which was also where takeout orders were placed. All of the bar seats were taken, as were most of the two-seater tables. Zoe waved at the hostess and spoke to the woman behind the takeout counter, who handed her a menu. Zoe swayed from side to side as the Commodores serenaded her with sweet love, followed by a love ballad from L.T.D. She’d narrowed her choices down to two when someone came up behind her and whispered in her ear.

“The greens are good, but be careful of the cabbage. … I’m just sayin’.”

Zoe smiled. “You know you better keep your
sauce
out my shit,” she whispered in an equally conspiratorial tone. “What you still doing here, girl?”

Chardonnay waved at one of her regular customers. “Workin’ a double for someone who called in sick.”

“I’m trying to decide between Marvin’s Mellow Meat Loaf and the Tempting Temptations T-Bone.”

“The meat loaf, hands down. Chef put his foot in it today, real talk. Plus, that special comes with three sides.”

“Dang, my mouth is already watering.”

“I’m getting ready to take my break. So I’ll go ahead and put in the order with Chef, tell him to hold it for ten, and then you can join me in the parking lot for a cigarette.”

“Bet. Hook me up with the greens, fried potato salad, and, of course, the mac and cheese. Oh, and add a slice of that sweet potato pie.”

A couple minutes later, Zoe and Chardonnay sat in Zoe’s Toyota Camry, puffing on Newports. “It’s hot as Hades out here!”

“Yeah, they say this is going to be the hottest August Atlanta has seen in a long time.”

“Sure feels like it.” Zoe took a drag from her borrowed cigarette. Her New Year’s resolution had been to quit smoking, but so far she’d only managed to quit buying her own. “Shyla been back?”

“Naw, that skank ain’t been back in here. But this fine brother walked up in here today. His name’s Q. He’s a personal trainer and also owns a gym.”

“What, you’re getting ready to start exercising?”

“Yes, but probably not in the way you mean.”

“Ha! You’re a mess, girl.”

“Uh-huh. Toussaint’s been back, too, with another heifah on his arm.”

“That boy has a woman for every day of the week.”

“Shit, I wouldn’t mind a day of the week with his fine ass.” Chardonnay took a long pull off her Newport, followed by a swig of cola.” But you were probably right with what you said. Brothah like him would never look twice at a chick like me.”

“C’mon now, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I was just saying—”

“You don’t have to explain that shit,” Chardonnay interrupted.
“I know I’m not high black society, model material, rich or whatever. I know I’m a single mother with two bad-ass kids by two different fathers. But my pussy is still tight, and I can rival a video vixen when it comes to giving head. So don’t count me out. ‘Cause no matter what circle you travel in, an expert blow job is clout all day long.”

“You’re good peeps, Chardonnay. And one of these days a brothah’s gonna see that.”

At that precise moment, the back door to the restaurant opened and Bobby strolled out. He looked rugged and work-ready in a cool white top and loose jeans.

“Aw, hell,” Chardonnay said. “Here comes trouble.”

Zoe watched as Bobby approached. She took in his plain facial features while noting his tight, albeit thin, body and the muscles evident through his sleeveless white tee.
There’s something about him

“What’s up, ladies?” Bobby said once he’d reached the car and Zoe had rolled down the window on Chardonnay’s side. “Tobacco all y’all smokin’?”

“What else would I be smoking with three more hours on my shift?” Chardonnay shot back. “You one ignorant-ass mutha—”

“What’s that tattoo on your arm?” Zoe interrupted, overriding Chardonnay’s insult.

“Aw, that’s in memory of my moms. She loved flowers, roses especially. When she died a few years ago, I got this rose,” he said, turning to show off the tattoo more effectively, “with the sun in the background on account of how she was the sunshine of my life. And then the cross running through it is because she was a religious woman. I ain’t followed in her footsteps on that right there, but I think her prayers are still keeping a brothah protected, you know?”

“That’s beautiful, Bobby,” Zoe said sincerely.

Chardonnay stared straight ahead as Bobby walked over to her side of the car. She finished her cigarette and squashed it in
the ashtray. “Your order’s probably up,” she said to Zoe. “And so is my break. Move, Bobby!”

“Damn, baby girl, you’re so hot! I like that shit right there—bodacious!” Bobby’s smile was lopsided as he opened Chardonnay’s door and stepped aside.

“Bye, Zoe,” Chardonnay said as she stepped out of the car. She brushed past Bobby and hurried into the restaurant.

Zoe waved to Bobby before going around to the front of the restaurant and picking up her special—Marvin’s Mellow Meat Loaf with sides. She smiled when she checked her order and noted that Chardonnay had exchanged her collard greens for smothered cabbage. “Whatever, wench,” she said, laughing out loud. She loved each green equally and was confident that the only seasonings in this serving were from the chef’s pantry, not Chardonnay’s panties.

It wasn’t until she was almost home, with visions of meat loaf dancing in her head, that she remembered what she’d forgotten to ask her friend. What she meant to find out from Chardonnay the next time she saw her. What was up with her and Bobby? Had he told the truth? Had Chardonnay really been on Bobby’s Candid Cell Camera, thus enabling him to blackmail her for a “taste” of her goodies? Or had she just been punked?

12

T
he house was quiet. Candace browsed through the materials for the upcoming Jack and Jill conference while Adam flipped through a
Forbes
magazine. The chef had cleaned the kitchen and gone home for the night, his dinner of filet of sole with braised vegetables and saffron rice a pleasant memory. A bowl of fresh, cut fruit chilled in the refrigerator, along with a bottle of sparkling white wine. Candace had turned down Adam’s initial offer for a glass of bubbly but now thought it might be just what she needed. She had a lot on her mind.

“I think I’ll have that glass of wine now,” she said, rising. “And some fruit. You want some?”

Adam eyed her suggestively. “I sure do.”

Candace laughed, even as thoughts of greed and indulgence interfered with her husband’s flirtations. She’d been with the same man for three decades, enjoying two wonderful boys and a fairly stable family life. Adam had given her the world, without her even asking. “You’re too good to me, you know that?” she whispered, walking toward him.

“Is that so? You’re too good to me, too—looking good, that is. Those workouts are agreeing with you.”

Candace twirled around, her soft cotton housecoat flowing around her. “Ooh, can you tell?”

“I’d better be able to tell something. You’re working out now, what, three days a week?”

“Yes, if you don’t include my Pilates class.”

“Just remember, I like a woman with some meat on her bones and some junk in the trunk.”

“I’ll remember.”

Just then a memory flashed in Adam’s mind—the naked picture Joyce had sent him months ago, before the conversation in which he warned her to not call him again. He deleted the mental image quickly, just as he’d done from his computer. He was glad to be rid of her; he had all he needed right here.

Candace leaned down, placing a tender kiss on Adam’s lips. “Wine or cognac?”

“I’ll lay off the heavy stuff tonight and share the wine with you.”

Moments later, Candace joined Adam on the couch. He put down the magazine and, once Candace had reclined beside him, reached over and began to massage her feet.

Candace closed her eyes, focused on her husband’s ministrations.
It’s these little things

“Can.”

“Hum?”

“What’s on your mind, baby?”

Candace’s eyes opened slowly. “Nothing, Adam. Why do you ask?”

“Girl, don’t even try it. I’ve loved you over half my life and know you probably better than I know myself. Now, talk to me, baby. What’s wrong?”

Candace sighed.
Everything and nothing
. Crazy mood swings that she blamed on the change. But she didn’t have the energy to verbalize all of what she was feeling. So she shared what she could. “Victoria stopped by today.”

“Oh, really? She finally decided to rejoin the Livingston clan? What did she have to say for herself?”

“More than either you, me, or definitely Malcolm would
ever want to hear.” Candace waited a beat and then continued. “She’s pregnant.”

Adam calmly absorbed this news. He placed Candace’s right foot down and reached for her left one. “Again?” he finally asked. “I thought they were done having babies.”

“Yeah, so did Malcolm.”

“What is he saying?”

“That’s just it. He doesn’t know yet.”

Adam’s hand stopped in midstroke. “What in the hell is she waiting on to tell him?”

“Courage. She’s afraid of how he’ll react, since he was so adamant that they stop having kids two kids ago. Now, here comes another one … and more weight gain.”

“Why does she keep doing this, letting herself get pregnant? The girl’s got a head on her shoulders. She knows how babies are made. So what exactly is going on here, Candace? Did she tell you that?”

“I think she’s still trying to figure that out.” Candace shifted her body until she lay in Adam’s arms. During their conversation, Victoria had opened up more than she had in the ten-plus years she’d been a Livingston. And now Candace was called on to break the news that Victoria could not.

“I remember when those two got married,” Adam said.

“Who could forget? Valarie Saunders just about drove us all crazy …”

“Wasn’t that her prerogative as the mother of the bride?”

“If you say so.”

“What was it, five hundred guests?”

“Fifteen bridesmaids and groomsmen on top of the best man and maid of honor—and don’t get me started with that seven-course sit-down dinner and the orchestra flown in from Japan.”

“Ha! But the doves that flew away at the end, that was a nice touch.”

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