Who's That Lady?

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Who's That Lady? Page 9

by Andrea Jackson


  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.

  Shonté 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,” Shonté 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.

  Shonté laughed aloud, clapping her hands in approval. “Hold that thought!”

  “There’s absolutely no guy,” Crystal said, her jaw tight.

  “Trust me, that won’t be true for long,” said Shonté.

  The excitement glowing in her friend’s eyes was irresistible. Her sister-girl. A reluctant smile teased Crystal’s mouth. She had to remember that Shonté thrived on drama and change, while Crystal liked routines. For Shonté, continuous change was the very nature of life. Maybe getting her involved in Crystal’s makeover would distract her from Trevor. This had already brought them closer together. Things were bound to work out.

  Crystal endured the teasing and questions for the next few minutes as the other co-workers arrived and added their exclamations and questions.

  Linda answered the phone, then hung up and called out to Crystal, “That was Dan. He’s got a meeting with some people from the hospital board and wants you to come and talk about personnel training.”

  “Oh, my God! I can’t go looking like this!” Crystal exclaimed, feeling her skin go cold.

  Shonté and Linda gave her blank stares. “Why not?”

  “I look…I don’t look professional,” she said, tugging up on the neckline of the snug-fitting amber dress.

  Both women grinned. “I don’t think anyone will complain,” said Linda.

  Shonté patted Crystal on the back. “Don’t worry. Your outfit is completely professional. It just plays up the woman in you. Now go use it!”

  Crystal was still uncertain, but saw nothing she could do about it now. Gathering her notes and other pertinent material, she walked to the meeting room a few minutes early, hoping to get seated in a quiet corner. To her dismay, the meeting had apparently started earlier with other topics. Six pairs of eyes turned to her when she walked through the door.

  Dan Jefferson stood up and started forward with a smile, but faltered when he got a good look at her. His gaze locked on her chest as if it might bite him if he turned away. In her heels, her chest was nearly level wit
h his chin.

  “Am I late?” she piped up through her tight throat muscles.

  Dan gulped and lifted his gaze to her face, flushing scarlet. He must be wondering if I’ve lost my freaking mind. Crystal wasn’t sure he’d be wrong.

  He tilted up the corners of his mouth in automatic politeness. “No, Crystal. Just in time.”

  She managed a nod.

  He faced the group around the table, four older white men and one woman with fluffy white hair. Crystal’s heart sank further. In this room of dark suits, her brilliant-colored one piece might as well be a bikini. All the men’s attention was riveted on her.

  “Folks, this is Crystal Taylor, my new assistant manager of personnel training. Crystal has a solid background and some truly innovative ideas. I wanted to give you the opportunity to meet her yourself. Crystal, this is—”

  She kept a smile glued in place as she shook each hand extended to her. At last, she got to sit down. Once she started rattling off her presentation, she was on familiar ground and her nerves unwound a fraction. She finished with the highlights of the program that her department was developing.

  “And so,” she finished, “organizational culture theory is simply a point of view that focuses on the ways in which communication creates and sustains social units in a particular organization. We want to create a culture in our organization that will ensure the most growth for our employees and, ultimately, for Whittaker Memorial.”

  She nodded to Dan to turn the presentation back over to him. He opened his mouth but one of the other men broke in. Mr. Garillo? Batrillo? He was the executive CFO, she remembered.

  “Ms. Taylor. Could you clarify how the nurse orientation program fits into this culturalization plan?”

  “Oh. Well, I—” Usually Dan took over at this point with details. She was used to fading into the background at presentation meetings. But he gestured for her to continue.

  She answered the CFO’s question. Then the chubby little dark-haired man who represented some trust fund leaned forward with a smarmy grin and asked how she liked working at the hospital.

  “Good, good,” he enthused at her dutiful expression of pleasure. “We’re always happy to see new faces, give young folks a chance. I’d like to stop by sometime to see how things are going.”

  Crystal’s smile slipped. He was flirting with her! Crystal gulped and mumbled something incoherent.

  The woman cleared her throat and asked her a question which Crystal answered automatically as her mind worked on a different channel. These people were noticing her. Because she looked different. Yeah, there was a sexual awareness to it, but the end result was that they listened to her. To Crystal Taylor.

  Crystal remembered the looks she had gotten as she’d walked down the hall earlier today. Men had made a point of saying good morning and their eyes followed her while other women looked her over.

  This crazy experience was starting to give her a rush of confidence. She felt self-assured in a way she hadn’t anticipated. No time to analyze it now, but it looked as if she could be sexy without sacrificing her business authority. Pushing her embarrassment to the back of her mind, she concentrated on work.

  She told Shonté about the meeting at lunchtime in the cafeteria.

  “He hit on you, Crystal? That’s awesome!”

  Crystal felt her face warm. For some reason, a memory surfaced in her mind. In high school, Shonté had always been fixing her up with dates. There had been an unending supply of guys who were nice, but like her, not popular because they weren’t smart enough, or athletic enough, or cool enough.

  “I wouldn’t call it hitting on me. I might have misinterpreted his actions. Maybe he was just being friendly.”

  Shonté snorted. “You know. It might have been awhile since a guy hit on you, but you still have the instinct. No woman forgets that.” She laughed.

  They both chewed on their sandwiches for a few moments.

  “Don’t you ever just want to be bad?” Shonté stirred her iced tea with bright-eyed concentration.

  “Of course not.”

  Shonté looked at her. “That’s the difference between you and me. I like being bad.”

  Crystal’s pulse jumped. “You mean you like testing the limits?”

  “Maybe. Maybe I’m just not as nice as you.”

  Crystal frowned. “I’m not nice. You’re much more likeable than me, Shonté.”

  “Oh, yeah, people think I’m cute,” she said in a disgusted tone. “But they don’t take me seriously.”

  “That’s your fault. You don’t act serious.”

  “What’s the point?” She shrugged. “Nobody listens to me anyway.”

  “Is that what this thing with Trevor is all about?”

  Shonté threw down her napkin. “It always comes back to Trevor with you! Are you jealous or something?”

  Crystal darted a quick glance around at the nearby table when she realized their voices were rising. No one was looking at them though.

  She lowered her voice and leaned across the table toward Shonté. “Of course I’m not jealous. I’d never go out with a scumbag like him.”

  Shonté’s cheeks flushed crimson under the vanilla of her skin. “Because you’re too good, right?” she sneered through stiff lips.

  Once more Crystal was taken aback. “No. I just know it’s a dead end street and you’ll be hurt.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  Crystal snorted her skepticism.

  “Then I’ll get what I deserve.”

  Crystal started to say something, and then choked the words back. She lifted her hands wide. “I’m not going to argue with you. I know you’ll do the right thing.”

  Shonté stared at her for a few seconds. Then she propped her elbow on the table and cradled her chin in her palm. She smiled slyly. “Okay, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll do the right thing if you’ll do something naughty.”

  “What are you talking about?” Crystal demanded in confusion. Shonté had made one of those lightning mood changes that kept Crystal off balance.

  Shonté’s smile widened. Sort of like the Cheshire cat’s. “You know you want to. What about that little fling the other night? Wasn’t that a charge?”

  Crystal was having difficulty catching her breath. “It—it was not.”

  Shonté’s musical laugh rippled over her. “You’re a terrible liar, Crystal Taylor. And I’m going to see that you get that charge again.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Jalessa’s mother was supposed to come that evening to talk to her daughter. Shonté took off early to pick Jalessa up at school and Crystal arrived home to find them laughing together like old friends as they prepared a meal in the kitchen.

  As Crystal came in, they broke off their conversation and Shonté bustled about with her back to Crystal.

  “Can I help?” Crystal asked.

  “We got it covered. Hurry up and change,” Shonté advised. “Mrs. Hines and Key will be here in about half an hour.”

  As she retreated, Crystal heard laughter echoing in the room behind her.

  She had changed into jeans and a baseball style shirt by the time the others arrived. Mrs. Hines was tall and thin like her daughter. Raising three children alone after the sudden death of her minister husband had taken a toll. She had probably once been as pretty as Jalessa, but her face was now creased with permanent frown wrinkles.

  Key arrived at the same time as Mrs. Hines. The stilted meeting between mother and daughter overshadowed whatever awkwardness Crystal might have experienced seeing Key again.

  Crystal greeted Key with a fleeting smile, hoping her pounding heart wasn’t audible.

  He stared at her with a perplexed wrinkle to his brows. “You did something to your hair?” he asked, twirling a finger near his own head.

  “Yeah. Don’t you like it?” she asked in a casual voice.

  “Well, it just doesn’t look like…you, Taylor.”

  “Gee, thanks.” She ignored her feeling of di
sappointment. Of course she hadn’t changed her hair for his approval anyway. She was glad she was wearing her usual jeans and baggy shirt now.

  “That’s the idea, Key,” broke in Shonté. “She wants to look different.”

  Key’s dark-eyed focus speared her. She could have sworn he was trying to read her mind. “Do you?” he asked.

  She shrugged, her face warm. “Why not? Everybody needs something new now and then. It’s only a new hairdo.”

  Jalessa and her mother complimented her on the new look.

  “Guys just don’t get it,” Shonté continued, punching her brother’s arm. “You’d wear nothing but sweats if you could get away with it.”

  “Okay, okay,” Key said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll take it seriously.”

  He put on an exaggerated pose of evaluation. One eyebrow raised, lips pursed, he stroked his chin as he walked slowly around Crystal, looking her up and down.

  She was unreasonably conscious of her breasts as he eyed her. Although she was wearing some of her old clothes, she still had on The Bra. In the past, Crystal had become resolved to the fact that, as a large-busted woman, gravity was not her friend. But this bra made her look more like Pamela Anderson. Her double D’s were positively perky. And with Key staring, the nipples swelled tight against the lacy fabric.

  Key drew in a deep breath. “Well. I pronounce you our beauty queen of the evening.”

  Crystal flounced toward the kitchen. “Good. Now can we eat?”

  Everyone laughed and her discomfort faded to a jumpy awareness. She hated this fluttering anxiety. Change was a good thing, but only up to a limit. She liked to be in control.

  But control was elusive since Key’s gaze slid to her at odd moments as the evening went on. She’d wanted a change in her life, but things were slipping out of her control.

  At dinner, they discussed Jalessa’s future. Mrs. Hines had struggled to find a way to quell her daughter’s rebellious issues and was actually grateful for Crystal’s suggestions. Jalessa agreed to go home with her mother, cool things off with Marcus for awhile, and work with the counselors at the teen shelter. After dinner, she collected her few belongings and left with her mother.

 

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