Cheesecake and Teardrops

by Faye Thompson

  “Of course it is,” Charisma insisted.

  “Anyhow, I just wish I knew why I’m always attracted to the same type. Maybe if I changed my type, I’d have better luck with men,” Tangie said.

  “Heather, when Tangie and I were in third grade, she had her first big crush on a guy who used to steal people’s lunch money. What was his name, Tangie?”

  “Robin Hood?” Heather joked.

  “Ryan. Ryan Garnett,” Tangie said reluctantly, shaking her head.

  “And when we were in the fifth grade, who did you like?” Charisma asked Tangie.

  “Dustin Simms,” Tangie said, yawning.

  “And what was he suspended for?” Charisma asked.

  “Bringing pot to school,” Tangie answered.

  “And what about sixth?” Charisma continued.

  “Enough already,” Tangie said.

  “Well, if you keep doing the same thing, how can you expect different results? Maybe it’s time to change your game plan and give up the roughnecks,” Charisma advised her.

  Tangie thought for a moment. “Maybe you’re right, Charisma. Maybe I should try a diplomatic type or someone with a political mind set.”

  “What’s the difference, Tangie.” Charisma yawned.

  “Diplomats are levelheaded leaders. They’re good providers. Politicians know the players on both sides of the fence. They’re good protectors,” Tangie explained.

  “Just stay away from the clergy,” Heather warned. “As many tricks as you have in your bag, you’d both probably burn in hell.” They all laughed.

  “But seriously, where did this theory on men come from?” Charisma asked.

  “Just something I came up with on my own,” Tangie admitted.

  “Maybe you have too much time on your hands,” Heather sighed.

  “Maybe one day I’ll write a book.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Heather said, shaking her head.

  “You can laugh all you want to now, but when I become a bestselling author, we’ll see who gets the last laugh,” Tangie told them.

  Tangie was grateful that she hadn’t run into Blade at the gym, but her luck was about to run out. Tangie checked her watch. It was almost 7:00 P.M. She was meeting Charisma and Heather at Macy’s in about an hour. She had just enough time to grab her belongings from the locker, sign out, and hit the streets. Thank goodness she had had another uneventful week, which translated into no Blade sightings.

  As she made her way to the underground garage, her heart sank. Parked three cars down from hers, sat Blade in an SUV, his window rolled down. Apparently, his finances were looking up. She tried to shield herself behind another car, but not before he spotted her. He and something were all hugged up in the front seat. Tangie had seen her working out at the gym on more than one occasion. She wasn’t all that.

  “Whassup?” He nodded to Tangie as their eyes met.

  “Hey,” she said simply as she walked to her car. She couldn’t drive away fast enough. As she sped down Jamaica Avenue, her heart returned to near normal. She stopped at a light, whipped out her cell phone, and speed-dialed Charisma.

  “Well, he didn’t waste any time,” Tangie told her.

  “Most men don’t.”

  “She wasn’t even his type.”

  “Please, anything with a hole is his type.”

  The cars behind her honked their horns as the light turned green. “Shut up,” she snapped. “Listen, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.” Tangie flipped her phone shut.

  Traffic was such a nightmare along Sunrise Highway that even Heather beat her to the mall. By the time Tangie met up with them in the shoe department, she was totally ticked off. Charisma had filled Heather in on Tangie running into Blade and his latest in the parking lot.

  “Isn’t it amazing how women want variety in everything—clothes, jewelry, lipstick, shoes—God, knows shoes—but we spend practically our whole life searching for the one. Well, when the hell am I gonna find the one?” Tangie picked up a six-inch stiletto. “And why the hell are heels so damn high these days? Huh? Give me a freakin’ break!”

  Several customers turned to look at her, but she didn’t give a damn.

  “Let’s get the hell outta her before I really explode,” Tangie warned them.

  Charisma gave Heather a look.

  “Let’s get outta here,” Heather said, getting up from a chair.

  “Okay, let me pay my bill,” Charisma said, walking to the register.

  “I could use a drink,” Tangie said.

  “We know,” Heather agreed

  “Applebee’s?” Tangie asked them both.

  “Sounds good to me,” Charisma agreed as they took the escalator down to the main floor. “I’ll drive,” she said as they walked out the door. They found her car and piled inside for the quick ride to the restaurant. They were seated at a booth immediately.

  “I am so broke,” Heather admitted as she opened the menu. “I’m still paying off South Beach, and I need a good used car like yesterday. I can’t take it anymore.”

  “We got cha’,” Tangie said. “Order away.”

  The waiter returned to take their orders. They ordered drinks and two plates of appetizers. Even Heather stuffed her face. By the time the second round of drinks arrived, Tangie was laughing like she hadn’t a care in the world.

  “So what did Blade say to you?” Heather asked.

  “Who?” Tangie asked as she sipped her drink. “You know what we oughtta do tomorrow night?” she asked without waiting for a response. “Let’s go clubbing. I am so over Blade. It’s time I really get back in the game and see what’s out there.”

  “Friday’s payday. Can a sister hold out till then?” Heather asked Tangie.

  She nodded.

  “Then count me in.” Heather said.

  Tangie couldn’t wait for Friday night. In spite of her ranting and raving in Macy’s earlier that week, she slipped on her four-inch heels and strutted out the door. Charisma picked up Heather first, then swung by Tangie’s on her way to the city. Friday-night traffic was no surprise. It wasn’t crazy; it was bearable until they crossed the Fifty-ninth Street bridge. City traffic was atrocious. It was a mild, winter night, and everybody and their mother was out. Charisma refused to pay the garage thirty dollars for a few hours of parking. So she rode around in circles until she lucked up and found a spot. It was a few blocks from the club, but at least it saved them thirty bucks.

  There were a slew of guys hanging out in front of the club, but none of them were head-turning material. Charisma and Heather walked in with Tangie leading the way.

  They checked their coats and headed for the bar. They hung out at the bar for a while, scoping the club for men. Tangie made eye contact with a guy across the dance floor. It was amazing how a dark room could play tricks on one’s eyesight. She gave him a quarter-of-a-tank smile. He left his entourage and sauntered over anyway.

  “I’m Bryce,” he introduced himself, shaking her hand.

  “Tangie,” she said simply.

  “Nice to meet you. Wanna dance?”

  “Sure, why not?” She said rolling her eyes at Heather and Charisma as they walked to the dance floor. It was only a dance. He smiled, and she noticed his teeth. She had never seen an arrangement like that before, and they each had a direction all of their own. They danced to a couple of songs until the DJ decided to slow things down, at which point Tangie said she needed a drink.

  Bryce insisted on buying her one, but she refused his offer. They found seats at the bar. Tangie gave Bryce a quick once-over, stopping at his feet. His black shoes matched his black pants and charcoal gray sweater, but they were like two sizes too big. There was a large gap around his heels.

  Apparently, he thought big feet would give him an in with the ladies. Well, not this lady, she thought. She wondered how he had lasted on the dance floor without tripping over his own feet.

  “Well, Bryce, it’s been real, but I gotta go.”

  “Why don’t
I give you my number, and we can get together sometime.”

  “Let’s not,” she told him before standing up and walking away. No use leading him on.

  Twenty minutes later Tangie told Heather and Charisma the truth. “I thought I was ready for all this, but I’m not.”

  “Nothing before its time,” Charisma said simply, reassuring her.

  “You could bump into the man of your dreams at the coat check, and it wouldn’t mean a thing,” Heather added.

  “You’re right,” Tangie said simply. “Let’s go home.”

  Tangie was dreading Monday morning. She was scheduled to be a recruiter for the gym at the New York job fair in the city, where over one hundred companies would be represented.

  Thank goodness it was just for one day. She got up extra early to dress for success, apply makeup, and do her hair. She caught the Long Island Railroad and transferred to a bus, but luckily, she made it to the Jacob Javits Center without a hitch.

  Katie Wong, her partner from the gym’s Flushing branch, had already arrived. Katie was a young, friendly Chinese girl, who had already begun setting up pamphlets and applications.

  The two hit it off instantly. Neither of them was thrilled to be there, but they made the best of a bad situation, talking a mile a minute. Reluctantly, Tangie changed from her sneakers to a pair of navy suede pumps, which were the exact same shade as her business suit. Katie held out until the last possible minute—8:59, to be exact—before she abandoned her flats for heels. Habitual sneaker wearers, they both dreaded the guaranteed eight hours of torture they knew their feet would endure, but appearances were everything while they were at the fair.

  Since their booth was situated at the rear of the floor, it took some time before they saw their first prospect. She was a college graduate with a degree in accounting. Tangie took her résumé and she took pamphlets about career opportunities at Canyon’s Club.

  As the morning progressed, Tangie and Katie became flooded with a constant flow of applicants. Somewhere around noon there was a lull, and they both got the chance to catch their breath. Tangie looked around to check out the other booths. They were just as busy as she had been.

  She stood for a moment to stretch her legs, catching the eye of the man in the booth across from her. She couldn’t help but smile slightly before returning to her seat. She glanced up at the banner hanging above his booth. He was recruiting for the FBI, but after every few applicants, he would glance in her direction.

  Tangie checked him out on the sly. He sported a freshshaved head and a navy pinstriped suit. Nice. Apparently, he thought the same about her because around lunchtime, he strolled over to her booth and invited her to lunch.

  “Hi, I’m Tony. Excuse me for staring a moment ago, but I couldn’t take my eyes off your . . . pumps.” He grinned.

  Blushing, Tangie knew she was already in trouble. “I’m Tangie.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tangie,” he said, shaking her hand and holding it just a bit longer than necessary. She didn’t mind at all. They stood for a moment, enjoying the view, neither speaking.

  “Do you like seafood?” he asked her.

  “I love it.”

  “Have you ever been to Presto’s?”

  “No, would you like to take me there?” She laughed.

  Tony laughed too, rubbing his chrome dome with one swift stroke of the palm of his hand.

  Secretly, the gesture drove her wild.

  “Yes,” he said, grinning.

  “Lead the way,” Tangie said, grabbing her coat. “I’ll be back in time to relieve you,” she told Katie. “Take your time,” Katie said, smiling, looking from one to the other.

  Tangie and Tony walked a few blocks to the restaurant, the winter air brisk and fresh. As much as Tangie loved the city, she didn’t miss working there anymore. It was just too congested.

  Surprisingly though, the restaurant wasn’t crowded. They were seated right away. Tony and Tangie flipped open the menus and checked out the lunch specials.

  “The shrimp scampi is all that,” Tony recommended.

  “Would you believe I’ve never had shrimp scampi, but I’m feeling adventurous,” Tangie admitted. “Shrimp scampi it is,” she told the waiter.

  “Make that two,” Tony agreed.

  Tangie checked her watch and ran her fingers through her hair. She hoped her hair wasn’t too windblown.

  “So, how long have you been with Canyon’s Club?” he asked.

  “Eight years.”

  “Is this your first job fair?”

  “No, it’s my third. How about you?”

  “I have been to more job fairs than I care to remember.”

  “So, how is it working for the FBI?”

  “Well, I travel a lot, and there’s never a dull moment. I’m probably one of the few people who can honestly say that I love my job.”

  The waiter returned with their lunch. It was piping hot and smelled divine. They waited for their meals to cool.

  Tangie quickly said her grace, and when she opened her eyes, Tony was smiling.

  “Do you always bless your food?” he asked.

  “Since I was a little girl. Some things stay with you.”

  “I think it’s wonderful.”

  They began to eat. “You’re right. This is good,” she admitted.

  “So what does Tangie stand for?”

  “Tangela.”

  “Tangela,” he said slowly, putting his fork down. “I like that. Mind if I call you Tangela?”

  “That’s my name.” She grinned, taking a sip of bottled water. She liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.

  She shook her head. “This shrimp is really good.”

  “I guess our first date was a success, but for me the only thing missing is your phone number.”

  “Well, that should be a piece of cake for you, Mr. FBI.”

  “Yeah, and I have one helluva sweet tooth.” He winked at her.

  13

  Charisma

  Charisma was ticked off with Dex. Ever since Thanksgiving, he had been sniffing around her like a puppy.

  He was constantly dropping by her house unannounced to the point where she had to forbid him from coming by without calling first. It was getting ridiculous. When she stopped answering her doorbell, he realized that she meant business. He called her one night and told her he was coming by. He didn’t ask her. He told her. That’s when she decided enough was enough.

  “What time did you leave work today?” he asked the minute he walked through the door.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. What time did you leave work? Seems like you’ve been working a lot of overtime.”

  “Not that I owe you an explanation, but I’m working on a special project.”

  “Yeah, boning your boss. It must take a lot of energy. Let’s see. Where do you begin? There’s the conference room, the ladies’ lounge, and let’s not forget his desktop. That’s like the headquarters of the entire operation. Am I right?” he asked with disgust.

  “You oughtta quit your day job and head for Hollywood ’cause you’d make one helluva writer,” Charisma said.

  “And we both know you have one helluva sweet ass, don’t we. You been giving my stuff away? Huh?”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Well, I don’t share.”

  “You should know by now that I’m a one-man woman.”

  “I saw you two were checking each other out on Thanksgiving and the guilty look on your face when you saw me. You must think I’m stupid. Don’t insult my intelligence, okay?”

  “I said nothing is going on. Now, if you’re looking for something, I’ll make sure you find it.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Look, I don’t have time for this, Dex. I really don’t. It’s been a long day, and I don’t feel like arguing. So if you don’t mind, my bed is calling me.”

  “Yeah, and I bet your boss’s is too.”

  “Good-bye, Dex.” Charisma walked to
the front door, opened it, and waited for Dex to walk through. She wasn’t in the mood for his crap tonight, especially when she had a meeting first thing in the morning.

  Charisma got to work bright and early. She rode the elevator up with Nate, but he barely said more to her than a polite good morning. She noticed that he had turned rather cool toward her ever since Thanksgiving. Was he avoiding her? No more laughing and joking around and no more “dates.” It was now strictly business, and their conversations were limited to work. Then again, maybe he was just flipping the script and playing hard to get. Men were famous for that.

  Charisma poured herself a big cup of coffee before heading into the conference room for her first meeting of the day. It was only thirty degrees outside when she woke up that morning, and the fresh, hot brew hit the spot. She couldn’t believe how the temperature had dropped overnight, but winter was definitely here. No more cute little leather jackets. It was time for cashmere sweaters and fur.

  After the staff of Freeman LTD was seated, Nate walked in. Miss Crappuccino was close behind, flirting with the boss as usual. Evidently, something got her in to work early that morning.

  “How much you wanna bet she’s baiting her trap?” Lauren leaned over and whispered in Charisma’s ear.

  “With what?” Charisma whispered back. “Dark meat has so much more flava.”

  Nate took his seat at the head of the conference table and the meeting began. “I just received an e-mail from our corporate office. Unfortunately, we’ve lost the Emerson account.

  Apparently, Emerson felt that a larger marketing firm with more resources would be to his advantage. So, of course with the loss of that account comes a loss in projected revenue.”

  Charisma’s eyes scanned the room. Everyone seemed absorbed in what Nate was saying. He made eye contact with many but avoided hers. She watched him from across the room, her eyes settling on his lips as he spoke and wondering what it would be like to . . .

  The meeting lasted another half hour and included a PowerPoint presentation of the company’s goals for the coming year. Concluding, Nate stressed the importance of maintaining their reputation of excellence.