by La Jill Hunt
“I can’t believe how great this place looks.” Yaya walked inside. The salon looked better than she ever imagined. The chocolate, teal, and amber décor was warm and inviting. They were all set for the grand opening.
“Lincoln and his crew did a great job,” Taryn said. “This is really happening, Yaya.”
“Yeah, it is,” Yaya told her.
Their dream had come to fruition. In less than twenty-four hours, the doors of After Effex would be open. The invitations to the grand opening reception had been sent, and they were putting the final touches on the decorations.
Monya was placing balloons strategically, while Taryn and Yaya were putting key chains and Carol’s Daughter samples into goodie bags.
“Did you get the shirts, Monya?” Taryn asked.
Monya picked up the special-order baby T’s the girls had finally agreed upon. “Right here. So, it’s these? Black jeans and what shoes?”
“All-black Jordans,” Taryn anwered.
“I don’t want to wear sneakers,” Yaya complained again.
They had been going back and forth about this for days, and she was still trying to convince them to wear something else.
“It’s not up for discussion. I suggest you run by the mall and pick you up a pair when you leave here. Better yet, run next door and see if Twan can hook you up with a pair out his trunk,” Taryn told her. “We agreed. Now, that’s it. We want people to feel comfortable when they come in here.”
“If we had opened downtown like we wanted, they would feel comfortable,” Yaya murmured.
“Here we go again,” Monya groaned.
“Let it go, Yaya,” Taryn told her. “Did you call the caterer and give her a final count?”
“Yes, I did. They’ll be here at nine in the morning to set up.”
“Taryn, which box did you put the extra towels in?” Monya called from the back.
“Hold on. I’ll come and get them. I hope she hasn’t rearranged anything.”
Yaya placed the filled bags neatly behind the counter. “Better hide these. I know this place is gonna have some chickenheads looking for freebies tomorrow, and these are for paying customers only.”
The sound of the door chimes let her know someone had come in.
“Wow! This place looks great.”
Yaya turned around to make sure her ears weren’t deceiving her. “Jason!”
“This is nice.” He walked over and hugged her tight.
Yaya’s mood changed instantly. Her heart began fluttering, and she was smiling from the inside out.
“You like it? Really?” She looked at him to make sure he approved.
“It’s beautiful, Yaya. I’m so proud of you.” He smiled. “I can’t believe you really did it.”
“What’s up, Jason,” Taryn greeted him.
Monya did the same. “Hi, Jason.”
“Ladies, you really outdid yourselves. I can’t believe how good it looks in here. I got my invitation in the mail. So tomorrow’s the big day, huh?”
“Yep.” Yaya nodded. “You’re gonna stop by, right?”
“Of course, I am, Ya. You know I wouldn’t miss it. This is your dream.” He touched her hand softly, and tingles ran up her arm.
The door chimed again.
“Yo, J, I thought you were only gonna be in here in a minute.”
The joy that Yaya was feeling left her body and was replaced by disgust. Impeccably dressed in a Brooks Brothers suit and a pair of Steve Madden loafers, Travis Thorne strolled in and gave Yaya a fake smile. “Hey, Yaya. Nice spot.”
“Thanks.” Yaya gave him a dirty look. She was still pissed about his letting that hag drive her car.
He walked over and stood in front of Taryn, staring at her cleavage as he normally did. “Two tons of fun, nice to see you again.”
“Always an asshole, huh, Travis.” Taryn folded her arms across her chest.
“Why it’s gotta be like that, Taryn? I thought we were better than that.”
“You thought wrong, Travis.” She brushed by him.
“I swear, if I dated big girls, Taryn, you and I would probably be married by now. And I see you even got pretty Monya in on your little nail shop.” He grinned.
Monya rolled her eyes at him.
“Yo, you ready to roll?”
“Give me a sec, Trav,” Jason told him; “I’ll be right there.”
“He’s such a jerk. I can’t believe you really hang with him,” Yaya said after he left.
“Just ignore him. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Sure. We can go back in my office.” She led him to the small office she was proud to call her own. It was just large enough to hold a desk for her computer and two chairs. “It’s not all that big, but it works for me.”
“It’s nice. Check out the picture—Is that a Cathy Parker?” He peered at the painting hanging on the wall.
“Yeah, it’s The French Connection.” Yaya was pleased he noticed the original painting by one of her favorite artists. The framed picture of a man and a woman about to French-kiss was erotic, yet tasteful.
“Nice touch.” He nodded.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” He reached out and took her hand. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Jason. You were the one who told me to make my plan and work my plan, remember?” She stepped closer to him.
“But you were the one who did it, and very well, I might add.” He touched her cheek. “Pretty Girl.”
She closed her eyes and savored the moment. Pretty Girl was the name he had given her when they first met. He said she looked like an innocent Janet Jackson, during her years on Fame when Janet was a pretty girl and not a nasty girl. She even had Janet’s body; he always told her she was his fantasy woman.
“Jason—”
His cell phone ringing interrupted her. He took it out of his pocket, “A’ight, man, I’m coming out now.” He closed it and told her, “I gotta run, but I will see you tomorrow at the reception. And tomorrow night, we’ll have a celebration of our own, a’ight?”
“A’ight.”
He put his hand under her chin and tilted her head up.
She closed her eyes, as his lips met hers and kissed her softly.
“Bye, Pretty Girl,” he said and walked out.
Finally, things were looking better. Jason had come to his senses, and things were back to normal. She couldn’t wait until tomorrow night. Having him come and tell her how proud he was of her validated Yaya’s feeling of accomplishment. She knew that opening the salon was a risk, but having his vote of approval gave her just the vote of confidence she needed. She floated out of her office and back into the salon.
“I take it the break is over?” Taryn asked.
“Break is over.” She smiled.
“Thank God . . . because I couldn’t take another day of your moping.” Taryn walked over and gave her a hug.
“Okay. Break open a bottle of champagne. Forget waiting ’til tomorrow!” Yaya declared.
“Now that’s what I’m talking ’bout.” Monya ran to the back and returned with a bottle and three plastic glasses.
“Where is the music? We ’bout to get this party started now!”
The boom box was now replaced by an iPod, which they docked on a surround-sound station. She scrolled through the hand-held device until she found Janet Jackson and hit the title, “You Want This.” She turned the volume all the way up, and the girls began dancing.
They were jamming, when the door opened and Jarrod walked in.
“What the hell are y’all doing over here? Turn that shit down some!” He yelled.
The three of them looked at him and then each other. They danced in a circle around him closer and closer until he was sandwiched between them. Unable to resist, he began dancing and gyrating along with them.
Moments later, Quincy walked in. “What in the world?”
“They jumped me, man. Wasn’t nothing I could do,” Jar
rod said, without missing a beat.
“Yeah, right!” Quincy said.
“I’m serious.” Jarrod shrugged. “Yo, show him what y’all working with.”
The three ladies eased away from Jarrod and circled Quincy. They were so enticing that he found himself dancing, like Jarrod, as well.
A few other guys came over to see what was going on, and before they knew it, a full-blown party had ensued.
“See why I didn’t want a walkthrough doorway.” Yaya laughed in her brother’s ear.
The next morning, decked out in their black After Effex baby T’s, black jeans, and sure enough, all black Air Jordans, courtesy of Twan, who had so much fun at the pre-grand opening party, he gave them each a pair.
Qianna, Taryn and Monya cut the ribbon and opened the doors of After Effex Salon. They had taken care of every little detail, and everything went smoothly: The caterers arrived on time, and the food was delicious; the photographers took shots of everyone and everything; the deejay played the right music at just the right time.
Family, friends, and colleagues all came out to show their support. From top fashion models in the industry to brides whose faces Yaya or Taryn had done on their wedding day, it seemed as if everyone who got an invitation showed up.
Quincy had gone all out, calling in all sorts of favors and taking care of most of the marketing for the girls. The radio station did a live broadcast, and even the newspaper did an interview with them.
Monya and Taryn did nails nonstop. Yaya filled the role of hostess, make-up artist and receptionist at the same time; she was in her element.
“Yo, Yaya, come here for a moment,” Quincy called from the front of the salon.
She walked over to see him standing beside a beautiful woman with short, wavy hair and the cutest little girl. “What’s up, Q?”
She noticed that he was holding the woman’s hand. No doubt, the woman’s looks were striking, but she was different from any woman she had ever seen her brother with. Quincy always went for tall, dark, slim women. Paige was barely five foot five, almond-colored, and clearly a size twelve.
“Yaya, this is Paige. Paige, this is my sister, Yaya.” He beamed.
“Nice to meet you. You can call me Yaya.” She held her hand out to Paige. “And who is this pretty woman?”
“That is Ms. Myla.” Quincy reached over and rubbed the little girl’s head. “Paige’s daughter.”
Yaya was shocked by her brother’s behavior. Quincy rarely, if ever, showed any public displays of affection. To see him openly holding Paige’s hand and showing attention to her daughter let Yaya know that her brother had to be feeling something for this woman. But he hadn’t even talked to her about Paige.
Usually, Quincy would allow Yaya to meet girls before he dated them on the regular, let alone become involved with them on a serious level. Most women often looked forward to meeting her, when he mentioned he had a sister; if they didn’t, they had to be hiding something.
“I have heard so much about you,” Paige told her. “Your brother is so proud of you. You’re all he ever talks about.”
“All good things, I hope.” Yaya smiled. She checked Paige out. He hasn’t said anything about you. And a daughter?—Quincy doesn’t do baby mamas—he says they have too much bag-gage—What is up with this?
“You know I never have anything bad to say about you, sis. I’m gonna show Paige and Myla around the place.”
“Your salon is beautiful,” Paige said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I know it’s going to be a big success.”
Something in the way she said it made Yaya feel warm inside. It was as if Paige believed in her without even knowing her.
She still remained hesitant about liking her. She had been used plenty of times before by females trying to get in good with Quincy—they thought that if they could win her over, it was a surefire way to become the future Mrs. Quincy Westbrooke. And having a child already probably gave Paige even stronger ulterior motives for dating Quincy.
If Paige thought for one moment that she was going to get her hooks in her brother and poof, instant family, she was mistaken. She made a mental note to have a heart-to-heart with her brother and see what was up with that.
A few hours later, Yaya checked her watch and saw that it was after four and Jason hadn’t made it. The salon was crowded, and people were still coming in. She called his cell phone and didn’t get an answer.
“What’s going on, people?” Lincoln gave a hearty greeting as he walked in the door.
“Yo, Linc, my man, you hooked this place up!” Quincy walked over and gave him a hug.
“What’s up, Lincoln?” Taryn, hard at work on Paige’s nails, paused long enough to check herself in the mirror to make sure she was looking tight as ever.
Lincoln walked over, leaned and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
She looked over at Yaya and winked.
“Congratulations.”
Yaya looked up and stared right into the eyes of Fitzgerald.
He was smiling at her.
She couldn’t help smiling back. “Thank you. Where’s Carter? He better not be out there in my parking lot unattended.”
“Ha! It’s Carver, and no, he’s not here to terrorize you today. I left him home, seeing that it was the grand opening and all; I didn’t want to scare off any potential new customers.”
“Thanks. You’re so considerate,” she told him.
“I see your gala is a success. Linc told me you were worried people wouldn’t wanna come to the hood when you opened.”
Yaya wondered what else Lincoln felt the need to share with Fitz. “That’s not true. Well, not exactly true.”
“Yeah, right.” He laughed.
She tried not to notice how attractive he was in his jeans and long white T-shirt. His dreads were hanging today, and he had on a pair of what looked to be brand-new white Nike’s.
“Well, I just wanted to say congratulations.”
“Thank you, Fitz. Listen, hang out for a while, grab a plate, get a manicure. I can even hook those brows up if you want.”
“My brows?—I don’t think so.” He touched them.
She stared into his strong grey eyes.
“But I will get a plate.”
“Enjoy. Here’s a coupon in case you want that manicure, though.”
She passed him the small slip of paper, which entitled him to three dollars off.
He walked over to the buffet table and began talking with Quincy and Lincoln.
She felt someone staring at her and checked to see where it was coming from. Taryn and Monya both were smiling as if they had discovered some deep, dark secret she was hiding from them and there was nothing she could do about it.
“What? Get back to work,” she snapped at them, and they giggled.
For the hundredth time that day, Yaya looked around to see if Jason had slipped by her and she missed his coming through the door. She was again disappointed to see he wasn’t there.
“Are you all booked for today?” someone asked. Two women were standing at the receptionist’s area.
“I’m sorry. Yeah, we are.” Yaya looked down at the book and saw that they were almost booked for the next two weeks. Yaya was tickled to death.
“My girlfriend told me to get here early, but somebody held me up at the mall.” The woman elbowed the young-looking girl standing beside her.
“I said, ‘Sorry,’” the younger girl said. “You know I was filling out applications.”
Feeling sorry for the women, Yaya agreed to squeeze them in on Monday and even doubled their coupon.
“’Bout time you got here.” Paige walked over to them.
“They’re booked up,” the woman said. “Camille here decided to fill out a million applications.”
“I figured since we were already at the mall, I would go ahead and apply for some jobs.” Camille shrugged.
“Yaya, this is my best friend Nina, and my sister-in-law, Camille,” Paige said, intr
oducing them.
“Oh, okay. Welcome.” Yaya smiled. “Yeah, there’s no way we can take anyone else today. But I promised to hook them up on Monday.”
“I know you will.” Paige smiled. She held up her perfectly manicured hands—“Check it out.”
“Niiiiiceeeeee.” Nina admired her nails. “And look at that. Can I get a serving of him?—super-size, please?”
“Girl, make mine a double,” Camille added. “I just wanna run my fingers through his dreads.”
Yaya looked to see they were talking about Fitzgerald.
“Camille, cut it out. Nina, stop encouraging her,” Paige hissed as they walked off.
Yaya laughed, amused by their reaction.
It was well after nine when the last customer left the salon. The girls were exhausted.
“It’s over!” Monya said, locking the door.
“I can’t believe we did it. We are officially in business.” Taryn collapsed on the sofa of the waiting area.
“I just wanna go home and get in my bed.” Monya fell into the matching chair next to Taryn.
“What about our plans to go have a drink?” Taryn asked.
“I’m too tired,” Monya told her.
“But I told Lincoln and Jarrod we were coming over to State Streets,” Taryn replied. “We’ve gotta go; I’m tired too. Come on.”
“Fine.” Monya sighed. “But just one drink.”
“I just don’t want to stand them up. You ready, Ya? What’s wrong?—You been quiet for a while now.”
Yaya shook her head. “Nothing. Just tired.” She stretched her arms.
Truth is, she was irritated. Today had come and gone, and Jason never showed up. He hadn’t even called. The most important day of her life, and he wasn’t there.
Monya sat up. “I guess we need to change before we go to the club, huh?”
“No doubt. You know we can’t step in there with jeans and sneakers on . . . although the shirts would make great advertisement.” Taryn looked down at her shirt. “Like walking billboards.”
“How come your words look bigger than mine?” Monya looked at hers, pointing out the difference.
“It’s not the size of the words, boo-boo, it’s the size of the billboard.” Taryn laughed. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you both.” She walked into the back and returned with two small, black gift bags and gave one to Yaya and Monya.