All Up In My Business

by Lutishia Lovely

  “Hello, Toussaint.”

  Toussaint stared at Alexis another moment before stepping farther into the room and looking around. The living/dining masterpiece he’d requested had been delivered, and then some. His home now looked like a spread right out of Architectural Digest. “Alexis, this is fabulous.”

  Alexis smiled and walked to where he was standing in front of the living room’s best feature—the fireplace. “I just love how this turned out and am glad you trusted my judgment on the color of the mosaic inlay.” The traditional red brick had been replaced by a sleek wall of marble in warm earth tones. The raised fireplace was now surrounded by a water feature that cascaded from the ceiling and disappeared into grooves on the floor base. Colorful mosaic tiles were inlaid just above this base and matched the floor-to-ceiling, large glass blocks that now served to separate the living and dining areas. Their vibrant shades, which included burgundy, gold, and turquoise, provided a punch of color to the subdued gray / navy blue / black color scheme and brought Alexis’s whimsical signature style to the room.

  “The controls have all been stored here,” Alexis said, pushing a panel hidden in the heavy black steel mantel. She turned to the wall opposite the fireplace and pushed a button, and an Afrocentric picture, designed by local Atlanta artist Stuart McClean, receded into the wall to reveal a sixty-inch flat-screen television. She continued to point various details out to Toussaint as they walked around the room. Recessed lighting abounded and emphasized Alexis’s smart use of wood, stainless steel, leather, and textured fabrics to design a look that was at once sophisticated and inviting. The dining room, with its expandable table that could seat up to ten people, reflected the living room’s colors and textures, and the modern, square chandelier, gleaming with Swarovski crystals, rivaled the living room fireplace for wow and pizzazz. The curtains and floor-to-ceiling glass doors that shielded the patio now opened electronically, and the patio, filled with hearty plants and seasonal flowers, was now a true outdoor living space. “These vines will fill in and eventually give you complete privacy.” Alexis motioned to the English ivy growing at the base of the four-foot trellis. Her tour of the new living and dining areas was complete. “However, if you want to take in the view, this entire fence is on a pulley and can be pulled to each side of the balcony.”

  “Beautiful,” Toussaint whispered again. But he wasn’t looking at the furnishings or the beautiful downtown skyline clearly visible from his balcony. He wasn’t even commenting on the deep blue September sky or the leaves tinged with yellow, hinting at autumn’s imminent arrival. He was looking at Alexis.

  “I’m glad you like it,” Alexis said. She turned, and her heart jumped. Toussaint’s eyes were boring into hers, and when he unconsciously licked his lips, her eyes were drawn to them like moths to a flame. Was he always this handsome? Did he have that slight mustache the last time I saw him, and were his lips this full and succulent-looking? Of course he was! Suddenly she was all too aware of how well his tailored suit fit his broad shoulders, how nicely the light wool fabric flowed over his lean hips and long legs. Alexis performed this once-over in seconds, although the image would stay branded in her mind for days. She tried to look at him with a casual, yet businesslike stare. What she didn’t know was that the obvious desire she saw when she looked into Toussaint’s eyes was exactly what he saw as he looked into hers.

  Toussaint took a step toward Alexis. She took a step back. “I want you to see my bedroom,” he whispered. “Toussaint, I—”

  “For ideas on how you’d redecorate it … that’s what I meant. And my guest bedroom too.”

  Alexis let out a long, silent breath. She was hot all over, and while she’d so far resisted Jon Abernathy’s advances, she wanted nothing more at the moment than to be in Toussaint’s arms, and in his bed. “I already have my next client lined up,” she said, a bit too breathy for someone trying to sound businesslike.

  “I’ll wait.” Toussaint allowed his eyes to travel and take in Alexis’s long, disheveled locs, the perfectly fitting pantsuit that hugged her breasts and her booty, and the manicured toes visible in jeweled sandals. He imagined sucking those toes, one by one. His manhood leaped to attention. Toussaint quickly turned and walked from the outdoor space back into the penthouse. He didn’t stop until he was behind the small and classy bar area located between the living and dining areas. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked, just to calm himself before his burgeoning erection embarrassed them both.

  “I really should go.”

  “A glass of champagne to celebrate what a fabulous job you’ve done. And then I’m taking you to dinner.”

  “Oh, no, Toussaint, I couldn’t …”

  “Did that sound like a question, woman?”

  “No, but …”

  “But what? Do you have an appointment or a meeting?” Toussaint continued before Alexis could respond. “Cancel it. For the moment, I am not your client. So I am taking you out for an evening of dining and dancing. And you might as well take the pout off that beautiful face of yours, Alexis St. Clair. You’re mine tonight. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  19

  Toussaint wasn’t the only one not taking no for an answer. Neither was Quintin Bright, owner of Q’s Bodybuilding & Workout Center and Candace’s personal trainer. “Push, Candace,” he barked authoritatively. “Two more minutes.” He stood in front of the stair climber, urging her on.

  “My legs are burning,” Candace panted, willing her legs to press down on the pedals. “I. Can’t.”

  Q stepped closer and placed his mouth right next to Candace’s ear. “You can and you will, do you hear me?” he growled. “I don’t train quitters. Now, come on. Let’s go!”

  “Argh!” New beads of sweat popped out on Candace’s forehead as she gritted her teeth and bore down. Q had continually increased the tension on the device, making her work harder and harder to push down. Right now it felt like hell. But there was no doubt her thighs were toned.

  “Thirty more seconds. Don’t stop now. I’ll do these last few with you.”

  Q hopped up on the stepper next to her, with resistance twice that of hers, and pushed down with no problem. His thigh muscles bulged, and pecs rippled as he executed the moves. He’d toned his body to perfection, and it showed. He looked over at Candace, whose eyes were squeezed shut with the effort of finishing her task. “Keep your arms tight. Two more.”

  Candace finished and wobbled off the machine. Quintin reached out and caught her. “Good job, Candy. Abs next.”

  Candace bent over, panting heavily. “I can’t, Q. Not right now. Just give me a minute.”

  “I’ll give you the time it takes to walk over to the ab board. Drink some water. You’re all right.”

  Candace rolled her eyes. “You’re a slave driver,” she hissed, taking a long drink from her water bottle.

  “Wait, not too much. Short sips, woman. You know better than that.”

  The two walked over to the ab bench where he changed the incline to once again push Candace further into perfect fitness. She knew it would be pointless to argue, so instead of doing so, she simply lay on the bench and waited for his count to begin.

  Q lightly spotted her as they began. He placed two fingers on her abdomen so that he could feel the muscles tighten. “Good, Candy, keep using your abs. Relax your shoulders. Lift from the core only. That’s right … nineteen, twenty.”

  After two more repetitions on the ab board, Candace’s workout was over. She lay on the mat where Q stretched her muscles, ensuring that they’d remain lean and not cramp. He raised her leg up and over her head, something that Candace couldn’t even imagine three months ago. He sat in front of her, legs spread; he placed his feet on her ankles and pushed gently, and when she moaned, “Q, that hurts,” he pushed a little more. Finally, Q mouthed the words she longed to hear, the music to her ears at the end of each workout.

  “We’re done, Candy. Get ready for next time.”

  Forty-five mi
nutes later, Candace walked into the master suite she shared with Adam. He came out of the master bathroom at the same time. “There you are.”

  “Yes, baby.” Candace walked over and kissed Adam on the cheek. “Were you looking for me?”

  “As a matter of fact, I was.”

  “You know I work out every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.”

  “I know. I had an appointment over by that gym, so when it was finished, I stopped to see if you were there.”

  Candace’s heart stopped. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I saw your car but couldn’t find you.”

  There was a reason Adam saw Candace’s car at the gym. She kept it there as part of the cover-up.

  “Hmmm, that’s strange. Did you ask the person at the desk to look for me? I was probably in the shower. Or I might have gone to the juice bar a couple doors down from the gym. Did you look there?”

  “No.”

  Candace breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Called your cell phone, though,” Adam said as he walked into their oversized closet. “Got voice mail.”

  “I don’t have my phone on me while I’m working out, Adam,” Candace replied. “Plus, I’d turned the ringer off earlier when I met with the Jack and Jill committee and forgot to turn it back on.” She took a deep breath and walked over to the closet. “I’m here now. What do you need?”

  Adam, who’d replaced his slacks, shirt, and tie with a sweat suit, turned and faced his wife. “You,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “I was going to take you out to lunch, but now I guess it will have to be dinner instead. And then,” he continued, kissing her temple, “when we get back home, I want dessert.” He kissed her then, conservatively yet caringly.

  Candace kissed him back. She immediately deepened the exchange, her tongue swirling, probing, even as her hands reached for his buttocks and pressed him to her.

  “Whoa, Can, slow down, baby. I said I wanted you for dessert, not an appetizer!”

  “Why can’t I be both?” Candace countered, nibbling his ear. Even though she’d just endured an arduous workout, she was ready for more pumping.

  “Later … after dinner. I’m headed back to the office but will pick you up—say, six-thirty? Our reservations are for seven.”

  “Sure, Adam. That sounds fine.”

  Later that evening, Adam treated Candace to a fabulous dinner. The Thai food was excellent, and from the kanom jeeb chau moung dumplings, to the tom kha kung soup, to their main courses of duck breast and braised lamb tenderloin, the couple enjoyed the food and each other. And, as promised, Candace was Adam’s dessert, and he was hers. Both went to sleep fully satiated, especially Candace, who later that night enjoyed a second helping….

  20

  Zoe sat behind her desk, which was situated just outside Ace’s office. She tried to look professional, consumed with Taste business, while she typed instant messages to Chardonnay, who had the day off.

  What do you mean you saw it?

  Zoe placed papers in her inbox while she waited for Chardonnay’s response.

  That nasty dog pulled it out while we were both in the pantry.

  LMAO! ::silently:: Girl, shut UP! If I’m lying, I’m dying.

  Well … ? Well, what?

  Well, what’s he working with?”

  Damn, girl, I gotta admit it. His face is a problem but his dick look good.

  He’s not that bad, Char, probably cleans up nicely.

  Just needs a woman’s touch.

  Yeah, he needs a touch all right … from a plastic surgeon.

  LOL! Ooh, got

  Zoe quickly closed the IM window as Ace approached her desk. “These letters are signed and ready to go. Do you have the report that I asked for earlier?”

  “Yes, Mr. Livingston. I just need to print it out.”

  Ace nodded. “Put it on my desk. I want to look at it before the meeting.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ace started for his office, then turned around. “Oh, and, Zoe …”

  “Yes?”

  “I appreciated the information you gathered online, regarding America’s changing eating habits and focus on health. These are topics we in management are already discussing, but I appreciate your proactive contribution to this ongoing dialogue.”

  “Thanks, Ace. I just love being a part of what’s going on here.”

  Ace nodded. “We see you.”

  Once Ace returned to his office, and Zoe had given Ace the printout, she hurriedly reopened the IM screen. She knew that Chardonnay would wonder what happened and then eventually figure out she’d been interrupted. As Zoe scanned the screen, she realized it had taken her friend a minute to realize they’d been interrupted.

  Got what?

  Hello?

  You mad because I’m talking ‘bout your man, Zoe? You might as well go on after him ‘cause you ain’t never gonna be Mrs. Toussaint.:)

  Okay, Mr. Boss Man must have walked out and put you on lock. Hollah later …

  Zoe closed the IM screen and went back to work. She tweaked a PowerPoint presentation, separated the day’s mail, and filed the stack of papers that had piled up on her desk. She then went to the restroom where she freshened up her makeup and spritzed on perfume. She popped a mint in her mouth, took another look at herself in the mirror, pulled in her stomach, and proceeded to the conference room and to her fantasy man.

  Zoe was the person who prepared the room for meetings and as such was the first to arrive. Shortly after she’d filled the pitchers with lemon water and placed them on the table along with napkins and glasses, Adam, Malcolm, Ace, Toussaint, Shyla, and a couple others joined her. She was hoping to sit next to Toussaint and share some small talk, but Shyla quickly claimed that spot. It didn’t matter. As soon as everyone was seated around the table, Adam began the meeting.

  “I have some good news,” he said, sitting up in his chair. “Torrance Edwards, the young man who was burned back in June, is doing much better. He had his last skin graft last week, and his family seems pleased with how he’s progressed thus far. Additionally, all of the lawyers have finally agreed on a settlement amount. Our insurance covers it, so we should be able to close the books on this ordeal in the next few weeks.”

  Shyla was itching to ask what he’d received but knew that was not her business. She made a mental note to ask Toussaint later.

  Zoe wondered about the settlement amount as well. That could be one way for Char to quit her job, she thought in jest. Zoe loved her job and respected the Livingstons too much to ever suggest doing something so underhanded as getting hurt on purpose to collect insurance money. But goodness knew that Chardonnay’s other option—meeting a man with pockets deep enough to take care of her and her kids and who didn’t sling crack—looked less likely with each passing day. Cognac was seven and Tangeray was five. Pretty soon there would be no more babies needing a daddy. But Chardonnay would still need a man.

  “Regarding the company’s financial picture,” Adam continued, “we’ve had a bit of a setback. The bank has decided not to grant an extension on our loan payment. We’ve put in an application for an additional line of credit. It’s imperative that it go through.”

  “Or what?” Malcolm asked.

  No one answered. Everyone knew that bankruptcy loomed ever closer on the horizon.

  Adam cleared his throat and looked at his twin brother. “Give us some good news regarding operations, Ace.”

  Although by most corporate ladder structures, Ace, as COO, was beneath Adam, who was CEO, these two brothers shared equal power at the Livingston Group. Adam valued Ace’s opinion almost as much as he did their dad’s, and he never made a decision without consulting him—and vice versa. As for Ace, he’d always preferred operating behind the scenes and possessed a calm confidence that allowed him to not be affected by Adam’s more vocal role in the company. It was an interesting switch, because outside the office, Adam was the more conservative one while Ace livened up the party. As Ace succinctly shared his inf
ormation and answered questions, his proficiency and expertise was evident, as was his subdued swagger. “Even though we’ve had to overhaul both the Dallas and Houston kitchens as a precaution against further accidents,” Ace concluded, “operations are running smoothly.”

  Adam nodded at Ace and poured himself another glass of water. “Toussaint has submitted a second, more extensive plan regarding the expansion he introduced at our biannual meeting. We’ve tabled the franchise idea—”

  Toussaint shifted, causing Adam to look at him. “For now,” Adam continued, nonplussed. “However, after carefully reviewing the other parts of his proposal, I’ve concluded that further discussion is warranted, especially the idea of branching out into other markets. Toussaint?”

  “In Los Angeles, there are two major soul food restaurants, M&M Restaurant, which has two locations, and a place called Aunt Kizzy’s Back Porch.”

  “What about that chicken and waffle place?” Ace asked. He and Diane had vacationed in Los Angeles the previous year and had dined at Roscoe’s House of Chicken ‘n Waffles.

  “Researched them too,” Toussaint replied. “Roscoe’s has definitely made a name in LA, with five locations that stretch from Pasadena to Long Beach. But they don’t qualify as a bona fide soul food restaurant. Nobody out there has what we’re bringing. I’ll be flying out there the first week in October to visit these establishments and continue my development research.”

  Two pairs of ears perked up at this news. Shyla’s mind went into overdrive for a way she could accompany him. Something had changed between them, and Shyla was almost certain it involved another woman. Toussaint had been distant for the past two weeks, and they’d been intimate only once. His excuse that he’d been too swamped sounded legit, but Shyla knew different. Toussaint was too virile, too sexual, too potent to be celibate for long.

  Zoe also fantasized about rendezvousing with Toussaint on the West Coast. But she knew that’s all it was, a pipe dream. She remembered Ace’s earlier comments and decided she’d do better to focus on climbing up the corporate ladder instead of into Toussaint’s bed. After all, she reasoned, Shyla had done that, and where had it gotten her? Zoe looked at Toussaint laughing at something his uncle had said and noticed the dimple she wanted to touch with her tongue, the sparkling white teeth against smooth coffee skin, the long tapered fingers that casually straightened a pin-striped tie, and imagined laying her head against the chest upon which that tie rested. She groaned inwardly, even as she began gathering her things to go back to her desk. I’ll focus on the promotion. That’s my best shot to get ahead. But damn, like Chardonnay said two weeks ago, a woman can dream.