Who's That Lady? (8 page)

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Authors: Andrea Jackson

BOOK: Who's That Lady?
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The jangle of her cell phone was a welcome distraction.

“Hey, Shortcake. How’s it going?”

Her heart thudded and her mouth went dry. Fighting her sensitivity to this man’s voice, she managed to answer calmly.

“Hey, Emerson. Things are fine. How’s the player you went to check out?”

“He’s okay. But that’s not important at the moment. I wanted to see how things are going.”

“Pretty well. I got an appointment today at the counseling center I told you about. I’m here with Jalessa now. Her mother came, too. They’re in with the counselor right now.”

“Great. I really appreciate all your help, Crystal. I can always depend on you. I would have done it myself if I hadn’t had this scouting trip to South Carolina scheduled. I’ll be back tomorrow if there’s anything else I need to do.”

“No problem, Key.”

There was a long pause while she tried to think of something, anything, to say that didn’t have a connection with the other night.

“So,” he said at last. “I’ve been thinking about what happened the other night.”

Her heart slammed into her throat. “Emerson, forget it. It wasn’t anything.”

“It was something all right, baby.” His voice thickened to an intimate rumble.

“Don’t call me that,” she ground out.

“What? ‘Baby’? I’ve always called you that.”

She shut her eyes, squeezing her thighs together. The heat and arousal there were unbearable. “No, you haven’t,” she said.

“Yeah. I have. It’s just that it feels different now because I’ve been inside you.”

“Key, don’t—”

“Don’t what, Crystal? Don’t remember? Don’t acknowledge something happened between us that rocked our worlds?”

Now her eyes flew open, but she didn’t see the hallway because her senses were engaged with the vision of Key’s rippling, sweaty stomach and the feel of his tightly-curled pubic hair on her cheek as she nuzzled against it—

“I don’t remember!” she lied in panicked self-defense.

Key sighed. “Geez, Crystal. I wish I could say that too. But I keep getting these little…flashes. And it’s tearing me up.”

“Key,
please
,” she begged, her voice low with torment. “This is why I don’t want to talk about it. How can we be friends if we’re always thinking about that one night?”

“One night,” he repeated, his voice dull now.

“That’s all,” she said, ignoring the regret churning in her core. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Key. Never.”

There was a long silence. Finally he replied in a near-normal tone, “If that’s what you want. So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night when I get back in town?”

“Well…we’ll talk. Oh, I’ve gotta go now, here they come.”

She clicked off the phone and stared at the empty hallway. She wasn’t ready to see Key as a friend so soon. While her head was clear that a sexual relationship spelled disaster, her body throbbed to possess him. Apparently her hormones weren’t as easily controlled as her head, she realized as her breathing leveled out.

CHAPTER 7

After the session with the counselor, Crystal brought Jalessa back to her place for another night. Knowing Shonté would be home soon, Crystal proceeded to her regular monthly beauty shop appointment.

She’d considered rescheduling it, but felt in need of some rejuvenation. Crystal had used Dena’s shop since moving to the city. The front of the full-service salon was set up with tables and chairs for manicure and pedicure services, and in the back, technicians gave facials, body massages, and hot wax treatments. Hair styling stations lined both walls of the shop before full mirrors while gospel music drifted in from the speakers tucked away in the walls. Professional women of all ages filled the shop, getting looks that ranged from mildly trendy to traditional.

The receptionist recognized Crystal as soon as she walked through the door. “Miss Taylor! I tried to call you earlier to let you know Dena had to leave early today. Would you like to make another appointment?”

With a lot of gel, Crystal had managed to get her hair subdued this morning, but it needed something more. Her disappointment must have showed. The manager, Tanya, spoke up from her station behind the reception desk.

“I’ve got an opening. Why don’t I take care of you?”

With effusive thanks, Crystal hurried into the styling chair, letting Tanya drape a black plastic cape around her neck and shoulders.

Tanya ran her hands through Crystal’s mane of hair with efficient thoroughness.

“I see these roots need a touch-up. You want your usual relaxer and styling?”

The reflection Crystal caught in the mirror struck her speechless for a moment. Round face, hair in a conservative side-parted flip, minimal make-up. And the clothes under the cape? Staid and business-like. She looked old!

Last night Marcus and Jalessa had asked her how much older she was than Shonté. When she tried to give Jalessa one of her nightshirts to wear to bed, the girl had been barely able to suppress a shudder. Earlier she had been gushing over Shonté’s clothes, her eyes glowing with admiration for the petite, stylish young woman. Crystal couldn’t blame her—who wasn’t overwhelmed by Shont
é’s beauty and cheerful nature? But listening to the other two females talk fashion had made her feel like a dowdy matron.

Resentment bubbled up inside her. She was tired of being taken for granted. Why couldn’t she be the bad girl once in a while?

Excitement curled prickles of tension inside her. Crystal Taylor was going to be adventurous tonight.

“I think I’d like something a little different today,” she said to Tanya.

Tanya gave her a quizzical smile. “Really? How different?”

Crystal waved her hands to indicate her openness. “Make me into a new woman.” She spotted the customer in the next chair. “Why don’t you give me twists like that lady over there?”

Tanya’s nose wrinkled up in a little laugh. “Extensions?”

“Yes. Why not?” said Crystal, slapping the arms of the chair.

“Why don’t you go for the works then? Manicure, brow wax, and facial.”

Crystal took a deep breath. “Okay, I will.”

Starting today, she’d be a sexy sistah, shake up her life. After all, she’d let loose with her wild sexual side. What was the big deal about a little change of style?

Tanya talked while she laid out her supplies. “So what brought this on? You got a new man?”

“Maybe I’m looking for one,” Crystal kidded with a laugh.

“Well, whatever the reason, it’s good to try something fresh now and then. Keeps us from getting old, doesn’t it?”

“Right,” said Crystal.

First, she had a facial and wax. Once the twisting began, she had her manicure and pedicure. The twisting went on seemingly forever, a process of sheer boredom for the person in the chair. Eventually Crystal drifted off into a doze.

A gentle tap on the shoulder awakened her. “All done, Miss Taylor. Want to take a look?”

Stretching her aching arms and legs, Crystal turned to the mirror. Her eyes popped wide open. “Who
is
that?”

Tanya had touched her hair up with streaks of cinnamon, giving it a rich vibrant color. With her complexion, the effect was unearthly, making her look like some autumn wood nymph. Dozens of narrow twists fell to her shoulders from a center part, giving her face a heart shape.

She wasn’t sure if that woman in the mirror was pretty or not, but she was certainly striking.

“It’s
wonderful!
” she said, turning her head from side to side to see different angles. The slender ropes of hair swung against her shoulders in a sensual motion.

As she stood up, still looking in the mirror, her brows puckered in uncertainty. Beneath the earth nymph head, a navy sweater and skirt set hung dowdily. She visualized her wardrobe at home and couldn’t think of a single outfit that would do justice to the new hairdo. Everything she owned was monotone, dark and baggy. She had to get it all together so that maybe her head would look like it belonged to the rest of her body. She needed help.

Quickly she settled her bill and then phoned Shonté’s cell phone.

“Girlfriend, listen. I need you.”

“What for?” Shonté sounded a little suspicious. Their parting this morning had not been friendly.

“I got a new hairdo at the beauty shop. Now I don’t look like myself. Nothing I own goes with this new hair style, and I don’t know what to buy. Help me!”

“Oh my God! Do you mean to tell me you actually decided to lose the Condoleezza Rice look?”

Crystal chuckled, pressing a hand to her cheek. “I did. But the trouble is my hair matched my Condoleezza Rice wardrobe. I don’t know what to do now.”

“Meet me at the mall food court in fifteen minutes.” Shonté
hung up.

With trepidation, Crystal proceeded to the meeting point. In less than two hours, the stores would close. Her anxiety eased somewhat when she saw Shonté strolling the outskirts of the food court, scanning the crowd. Shonté might not be a whiz at business skills, but she was a grand master of shopping. Crystal rushed over and grabbed Shonté’s arm.

Shonté turned to her and let out a whoop.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “Girl, I love it.”

“Do you really? It’s not too
too
?”

“Are you kidding? You look slick.” Shonté snapped her fingers, a wide grin stretching her cheeks. Her black eyes sparkled.

“It doesn’t really feel like me.” Crystal fingered the twists on her shoulder.

“It doesn’t look like you either, girl. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know. Different.”

“And?”

“Saucy, kind of.”

“And?”

“Fabulous,” Crystal admitted at last, laughing. “But it doesn’t go with my clothes, Shonté, and I have no idea what to buy.”

“Come on, let’s go.”

They swept the stores in a whirlwind, Crystal trailing in Shonté’s wake. She wasn’t even sure what she was buying. Shonté snatched articles off the rack, held them up, pushed them back or handed them to her to hold. She sent her to the dressing room a couple of times, took one glance at her and passed judgment. Then while Crystal put back on her own clothes, Shonté would close out at the cash register with Crystal’s debit card.

The pile of bags they ended up carrying to the car gave her a feeling of mild panic. Crystal’s last paycheck had reflected her promotion. While her budget was down the drain right now, she rationalized that she could indulge herself this one time.

When the mall closed, they each drove their car to a 24-hour superstore, where they finished off with accessories and cosmetics. Exhaustion crept up on Crystal, along with a little guilt about abandoning Jalessa. But she was also having a good time with Shonté. She cherished the return of sisterly closeness. Even while she felt impelled to rein in Shonté
’s wildness at times, the girl had a way of getting the adrenaline rush, making Crystal anticipate what life was throwing her way. They were what Crystal’s textbooks called a balanced dialectic match, one of those partnerships of perfect yin and yang. Crystal kept Shonté grounded while Shonté inspired Crystal to dance.

As time passed, Crystal became anxious about leaving Jalessa alone at their apartment. But Shonté coaxed her into getting a quick snack at a fast food place before they went home.

As they sat down at a table with their trays, Shonté gave Crystal a curious look.

“I definitely approve of the change, Cee. But I’m still wondering why.”

Crystal tossed her head, feeling an unaccustomed swish against the side of her neck. “Why what?”

Shonté’s gaze remained speculative. “Who are you doing this makeover for?”

“I just needed a change,” she said with studied casualness. She poked at the lettuce and tomato piled high in a bed for grilled chicken strips.

“Uh-uh.”

The sarcasm in the tone made Crystal’s eyes fly up to meet her friend’s.

Shont
é sucked noisily on her drink, then slapped the paper cup on the table. “What’s going on?”

Avoiding her friend’s gaze, Crystal kept her tone casual. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Shonté snorted. “Last week you were Miss Rod-up-your-butt. Then you have a drunken one-night stand, change your hair, your clothes and you’re keeping secrets from me. I don’t know who you are anymore.” A plaintive note of accusation crept into her voice.

“I’m the same person,” she protested.

Shonté regarded her from narrowed eyes. “It all started Saturday night.”

Crystal shoved a cherry tomato into her mouth and kept her eyes down.

“Key said I should let it go. But I want to know. Who was he?”

“What did Key say about him?” she asked in a small voice, poking at the seeds in her tomato.

“Key knows him?” Shonté gasped.

“No!” Crystal yelped.

Shonté relaxed. “Oh. So did this man hurt you, Crystal? Did he make you do something you didn’t want to?”

“No, no, no.” She threw down her fork and sighed. “Shonté, I don’t want to talk about it. It didn’t mean anything.”

The other girl shook her head in frustration, her black hair swinging. “This is not like you, Crystal.”

“Then maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” She pretended not to notice the hurt that sprang into Shonté’s eyes and looked at her watch. “We really should get going. You ready?” She stood up.

“Later,” Shonté grunted. Her lips were a tight line and she didn’t look up at Crystal.

Crystal hesitated, but then left alone to dump her tray and head to the parking lot.

This was simply one of those inevitable bumpy places in any relationship, she assured herself. Key and Shonté had been part of her life for too long for anything to ruin that now. Maybe they’d all gotten a little complacent, a little bored. Some stirring up might bring them closer than ever.

Shonté arrived home almost an hour after Crystal did. She entered with flushed cheeks, tousled hair and a soft smile curving her lips. A secretive shadow seemed to drop over her eyes as she met Crystal’s gaze. They were polite to one another in front of Jalessa but proceeded to bed without any more conversation.

* * *

Crystal stepped off the elevator, wobbling a little on her spike-heeled, narrow-toed Prada pumps. The shoes were the biggest extravagance of yesterday’s shopping orgy with Shonté
. Her friend had laughed at the time and insisted that a girl wearing these shoes was guaranteed to get some play.

This morning when Crystal came out of her room dressed for work, Shonté had shooed her back and picked out another outfit and accessories. Crystal had protested feebly, but she was so happy to see Shonté friendly again that she went along with her decisions.

When she looked in the mirror she had to admit that the form-fitting amber silk dress did incredible things to her skin and hair color. And the suede pumps with the strap across the instep made her legs look long and shapely. If she didn’t fall.

“Isn’t this a little tight?” she suggested, twisting in front of the mirror to see her rear end.

Shonté snapped her fingers. “Work that butt, girl! You got it going on.”

“Okay, but seriously, isn’t my butt too big for this dress?”

“Absolutely not. Men like something they can grab hold of.”

Crystal giggled nervously. The front of the dress scared her, too. It wasn’t low cut, exactly, but her bosom kind of swelled out of the square neckline. Maybe it was the bra. Shonté had blown a substantial portion of the shopping budget on undergarments. Crystal’s eyes had widened in delight when she opened the bags at home to discover the kind of undies a girl wore when she was going on a hot date with someone like—

Not going there,
she reminded herself sternly. That was over. Closed. Buried.

“Girl, you are going to strut your stuff today,” Shont
é insisted. “This is the grand introduction of the new and improved Crystal Taylor.”

So here she was, making her debut at Whittaker Memorial Hospital. Giving some excuse, Shonté left her to make an entrance alone. As Crystal stalked (a girl couldn’t do anything but stalk in heels like these) through the corridors, she saw some double takes and sidelong glances following her. By the time she reached her own office, she felt like a fool. What was she doing? This outfit wasn’t her.

She tripped as she hurried across the large, open room. Linda, one of the other office clerks, looked up and whistled. “Hey, girl. Have you got a date after work today?” Linda, a youngish grandmother, was a regular after-work patron of the many country-western bars in the area.

“No, why do you ask?” Crystal spoke gruffly.

“Doesn’t she look good?” Shonté gushed, coming into the office.

“Sure does,” Linda agreed with a nod. “Are you sure there’s no guy you’re trying to impress? Look at you. All dolled up in that little dress and those stripper heels.”

Crystal choked, glaring at Shonté. She should
not
have let Shonté talk her into wearing these shoes today.

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