All Up In My Business

by Lutishia Lovely

  21

  Chardonnay took one last drag from her Newport 100, flicked it out the window, and rolled her eyes. Damn. I would have to roll up the same time as Bobby. She took out her compact, powdered her face, and then used gloss to freshen her lips. Her delay tactic proved unsuccessful. Bobby had time to wait. He always arrived to work at least thirty minutes early and often stayed to finish his work even if he was off the clock. But Chardonnay was too outdone to be impressed. After two months, he was still begging to taste her juice and threatening to expose her with what he swore he’d photographed. Chardonnay sat for a couple minutes while the latest cut from her favorite artist, Fantasia, finished playing on the radio. Then she huffed, puffed, grabbed her purse, and reluctantly exited her car.

  “Thought you were never gonna get out,” Bobby yelled from across the parking lot. He posed against his Hyundai as if it were a Bentley.

  Chardonnay decided to ignore him.

  “You might want to stop swinging that onion long enough to come check out what I’ve got for you.”

  “Whatever it is, I don’t want it,” Chardonnay said over her shoulder. Since seeing Bobby’s appendage three days ago, she’d visited Q’s gym and had seen something even bigger. She’d gone in and inquired about membership. Q recognized her from the restaurant and gave her the tour. When he asked if she had any other questions about the equipment, she mentioned the one that interested her the most, the one he’d forgotten to show her. He took her to his apartment and “showed” her for the next three hours. “Chardonnay, where you going?”

  “Didn’t you hear me? Whatever you’ve got, I don’t want to see it.”

  “Even if it’s the phone with your pics on it?” This comment stopped Chardonnay in her tracks. Bobby had told her that he’d left his phone on an overnight trip to Louisiana, that this was why he hadn’t shown her the pictures. She’d thought he was lying, and that they didn’t exist. Is this fool telling me the truth? Only one way to find out.

  Chardonnay turned around and marched over to the car. She wanted to slap the smug look off of Bobby’s face, but in light of what he might be holding in his hand, she thought better of it. “Let me see,” she said from about two feet away. “C’mon over here, baby girl. I won’t bite.”

  “Coulda fooled me with those fangs in your mouth.”

  “Damn, why you want to hurt a brother?”

  “I ain’t got all day, Bobby. And I don’t have time for games. If you have something, show me. If not, leave me the fuck alone.”

  “A’ight ‘den.” Bobby punched a couple buttons and then, holding the phone firmly in his hand, turned it around for Chardonnay to see.

  Chardonnay’s heart had sped up as she waited, but now she let out a loud guffaw. “What? Is that all you got?” The picture was from behind and showed someone holding something in their hand, with their head bowed. Chardonnay confidently put her hand on her hip. “That picture don’t tell shit.”

  “That’s just the first one. It’s like a movie right here.” He punched up the next picture.

  Chardonnay squinted as she viewed this one. It was taken from behind as well but showed someone with a plate in their left hand, while their right hand was clearly between their legs. “That’s just someone with a plate of food,” Chardonnay said, her voice missing some of its previous bravado. “It ain’t me.” Still, she moved closer, waiting for the next piece of evidence.

  Bobby clicked the next picture. “This ain’t you either?”

  Chardonnay closed her eyes. Her heart sped up at the same time. Bobby had switched from the camera function to video. As the camera rolled, Chardonnay watched as she turned to the side, where she clearly could be seen stirring her finger in the plate. She then picked her nose (damn, I forgot I did that!) and swirled it in the plate again. The camera captured the broad smile she had on as she left the pantry. Her hand had been caught in her coochie, instead of the cookie jar, and it had all been caught on tape.

  Chardonnay fell back against the Hyundai. “Damn, Bobby, this is some messed-up shit.”

  Bobby laughed. “Ain’t it? Who in their right mind would do some shit like that, contaminate a customer’s food? Lawsuits have been won on less evidence, and if the FDA found out, they could shut the restaurant down!”

  “I’m not talking about what I did,” Chardonnay hissed. “I’m talking about your lowdown ass. How you gonna dis a sistah, who’s trying to make it just like you?”

  “Oh, I’m the muthafucka? Just because I caught you being a very bad girl? Ha! I’m not gonna try and blackmail you, Chardonnay. I could, but I’m not. Now here’s what you can do for me. Lighten up, and give me a chance.”

  Chardonnay let out a string of expletives while digging for her cigarettes. “Bobby, you need to delete that shit, for real.”

  “And you need to stop tripping and go out with me.”

  “Fine, okay? Fine! I’ll go out with you. One time. Then … will you leave me alone?”

  “If you want me to.”

  “And delete the pictures?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then come over this Friday. I’ll give you my address when we close up.”

  Bobby watched Chardonnay as she walked away. He began to get hard just watching, thinking that in a couple days that ass would be his. It wasn’t pretty getting here, but we’re here now. And once I get you, I don’t intend to let you go.

  22

  “Baby, really, I’m fine.” Toussaint reached for his glass of wine on the bar and walked toward his open patio doors. He’d worked almost nonstop the past three weeks and had taken the afternoon off, partly to rest and partly to enjoy the luxurious surroundings to which he was still becoming accustomed. The redesigned environment made him feel so good that for the first time in his life, he’d rather stay home than go out. The only thing missing was someone with whom to share his castle. Someone like Alexis. Everywhere his eye landed, he saw her touch. “Yeah, sorry, Shyla, I’m still here … just distracted.”

  Shyla paced in her office. By whom? It took every fiber of her being for Shyla not to ask this question out loud. But if one thing the corporate world had taught her, it was to be patient. Shyla knew that a trip with Toussaint to LA would make all the difference, would put the magic back into their currently stale relationship. Shyla knew she could hang with the women in LA. While not conceited, she knew she was beautiful. It didn’t matter that the hair and breasts had been purchased; they were still hers. The perfect bone structure, long, lanky build, and intelligence had come courtesy of good genes and a stellar education. Shyla knew she was the right woman for Toussaint. Taking this trip together would prove it to him.

  “Have you given any more thought to my accompanying you to Los Angeles? I want to talk with you about the proposal I submitted to the Food Network. I really think we have a shot, but time is of the essence. We could talk out there, away from the office distractions. This is a huge opportunity, Toussaint. I wouldn’t take it lightly.” Shyla hoped she sounded professional, instead of desperate.

  “I checked out your proposal,” Toussaint replied. “It’s tight, no doubt. As for LA, we’re still working out the personnel for that trip. Ace mentioned coming, and Aunt Diane may join us. I wouldn’t pack any bags yet, Shyla, but like I said before, I’ll let you know.”

  “That sounds fabulous. In the meantime, I’m also expanding my marketing ideas for the West Coast expansion. Nothing too detailed, just some ideas I’ve been kicking around since you announced the concept.”

  “That sounds good, Shyla. Copy Daddy and Ace on it.”

  “Absolutely.” Shyla smiled, her confidence growing. If he wants me to copy Adam and Ace, then he’s going to give whatever I send him serious consideration. And after that, I’m as good as shopping on Rodeo Drive! Shyla made a quick mental note to put her hairstylist on standby. LA weaves were some of the best in the world. Shyla wanted to make sure hers was fresh for the trip. “Oh, Toussaint, one more thing—”

  “S
hyla,” Toussaint interrupted. “Ace is calling.”

  “Call me back. Maybe we can get together tonight. I miss you.”

  Toussaint switched calls without responding to Shyla’s invite. It’s time to end things with her. Later, he decided, after returning from Los Angeles. “Hey, Uncle.”

  “Hey, Toussaint. I know you’re busy, so I’ll be quick.”

  “Are you kidding? I always have time for my favorite uncle.”

  “I’m your only uncle, fool,” Ace said, smiling. He’d been Toussaint’s “favorite” uncle for decades. “Listen, me and your aunt Diane were talking about the LA trip. We’re definitely coming.”

  “That’s great!” Toussaint suddenly thought about Alexis, and how much he’d love for her to accompany him on this trip. He knew that his aunt and uncle would love her. His mother, he was not so sure. When it came to Candace and her sons, nobody seemed good enough. “Maybe we can squeeze in a Lakers game.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Oh, and there’s one more thing. There’s someone else I’d like to accompany us on this trip. I’ve been thinking about promoting her, and how she handles this trip would help me decide.”

  “Um, well, Uncle, I’m not sure how productive Shyla would be on this trip. She and I … Well, things might get complicated with her along.”

  “That’s why you shouldn’t shit where you eat, son, but that’s a conversation for later. And it’s a moot point where this is concerned, because I’m not talking about Shyla. I’m talking about Zoe Williams. You know that we like to promote from within, and I’ve had my eye on her for a while. She’s an excellent worker: smart, dedicated, goes above and beyond the call of duty. With Shyla poised for a director position, it’s time to consider the corporate ladder. Zoe has shown a real knack for marketing and PR and has expressed an interest in those areas. When we go to LA, I’d like to bring her with us.”

  23

  Toussaint had barely begun to digest his uncle’s suggestion to have Zoe join the team heading to LA when his phone rang. One look at the caller ID put a smile on his face.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  Pause. “Hi, Toussaint.”

  “You’re a hard woman to reach. What’s a brothah got to do to get a return phone call?”

  A longer pause. “Be patient.” Toussaint’s throaty laugh produced a tingle between Alexis’s legs. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call back. This latest project has me swamped.”

  “Is that project’s name Jon Abernathy?” Toussaint was surprised this had come out of his mouth, but since it had, he eagerly awaited her answer.

  “Jon? He’s not a client.”

  “Neither am I, not anymore. So what is it, Alexis? Why will you go out with him and not me?”

  Alexis paused, taken aback by the intensity in Toussaint’s voice. “We did go out, Toussaint. And as I said when we had dinner—”

  “Appetizers,” Toussaint corrected. “You ran out before the entrée arrived.”

  “That was an emergency. My mom was stuck at a …” Greyhound bus station. “She was in a bind. “Alexis wasn’t ashamed of her mother’s choice of transportation, but rather why she’d been on the bus in the first place. Alexis’s alcoholic stepfather had wrecked her mother’s car during a road trip two states over, a trip he hadn’t told Mrs. Barnes he was taking. He also hadn’t told her he’d emptied the bank account. It hadn’t been until she’d arrived at the bus station to purchase the ticket that she found out about this hitch in the giddyup. As usual when financial troubles came, she’d called Alexis, who had left the restaurant, and her date with Toussaint, and gone to the bank to deposit money into her mother’s account.

  “I understand. Things come up. But I’m ready to cash in that rain check you offered before running out on me. I want to see you, Alexis. You know I’m feeling you, girl, and I think you’re feeling me too. What are you afraid of … falling in love?”

  “I’ve heard that’s not a good idea where you’re concerned. Your reputation of playing the field precedes you”

  Toussaint’s response wasn’t immediate. The conversation wasn’t going as he’d planned. For once, Toussaint’s whorish ways embarrassed him. But he’d never denied his lifestyle, and he wouldn’t start now. “You’ve heard correctly. I’ve been around. But what does that have to do with us?”

  “Everything.”

  “Why?”

  Alexis closed her eyes and tried to still her erratic heartbeat. It had been years since she’d opened up to a man, since she’d taken a chance on love. And with this man, well, the potential pitfalls were enormous. But then again, she reasoned, nothing ventured, nothing gained. “You’re right, Toussaint. I am feeling you. A lot. And quite honestly, that frightens me. I know I come off as strong and invincible, but … well … it’s a long story.”

  “Why don’t I pick you up at eight, and you can tell it to me. Over dinner.”

  Alexis’s heart fluttered, even as a shiver of fear ran through her. Toussaint was one of Atlanta’s most eligible bachelors—a woman’s dream. The last man who was everything she’d ever hoped for had left her unexpectedly. Still, Alexis faced her fears, knowing that any given journey began with the first step. “Here’s my address. Are you ready?”

  Toussaint smiled as he typed her address into his phone. “I’m ready,” he whispered, confident once again. “The question is … are you?”

  24

  The afternoon passed quickly, and a little past seven-thirty, Toussaint climbed into his Mercedes and headed to Atlantic Station and Alexis’s loft. When he arrived, he wasn’t disappointed. Alexis’s home was a study in brilliant contradictions—just like her.

  “Your home is perfectly put together, but I wouldn’t have expected anything less,” Toussaint said after they’d exchanged greetings and hugs. “I would have never considered purchasing a loft. But this … nice.”

  “Thank you. Lofts have come a long way from what one thought of in, say, the seventies or eighties.”

  “Do I get the grand tour?”

  Alexis hesitated, but when she couldn’t quickly think of a logical answer to the contrary, she nodded her consent. Her living and dining area was basically combined, much as she’d designed Toussaint’s home. Floor-to-ceiling panels of shimmering beads, along with strategically placed floor rugs separated the spaces. Her kitchen was top-of-the-line, a fact that impressed Toussaint.

  “I love your kitchen. Do you use it much?” he asked.

  “Yes.” “What? Are you telling me you’re beautiful and can cook too?”

  Alexis warmed at the compliment. “I do all right.”

  “You know you’re talking to a Livingston, right?”

  “I kept that in mind as I gave you my answer.”

  This banter helped to ease the unspoken tension swirling between them. Alexis turned and led the way down the hall to the bathroom and bedroom suite.

  “Wait, who’re these people?” Toussaint had stopped to look at the black-and-white portraits lining Alexis’s wall.

  “Family, mostly.”

  Toussaint leaned closer to the portraits. The first one, of a handsome man dressed to kill, caught his eye. He looked at the portrait and then gazed at Alexis and back again. “This your father?”

  “Yes,” Alexis replied softly. “You look like him.”

  Alexis didn’t know why, but Toussaint’s keen observation caused her to choke up. “We should probably get going,” she said, returning to the living room without looking back to see if Toussaint followed. “Did wherever we’re going require reservations?”

  “Yeah, but we’re good.” Toussaint took another long look at the man on the wall. He hadn’t missed how Alexis’s demeanor had changed when Toussaint had mentioned him. He also noted that the tour was over.

  “Where are we going?” Alexis asked once they’d settled into Toussaint’s car.

  “Someplace special.” Toussaint’s smile was boyish, charming.

  “You’re not going to tell me?”
<
br />   “No.”

  Alexis crossed her arms in a huff. Toussaint laughed and turned on the satellite radio. The pulsating sounds of Latin jazz oozed out of the Bose speakers.

  “Thanks for taking a chance and going out with me,” Toussaint said sincerely.

  Alexis glanced at him before answering. “You’re welcome.”

  Conversation flowed fairly easily as Toussaint cruised down I-75. Not only was he a gentleman, Alexis decided, as he’d opened her car door and helped with her seat belt, he was knowledgeable too. During the short ride, they discussed food, travel, and Atlanta’s social landscape. Alexis relaxed.

  Toussaint noticed and smiled. The evening with Alexis was going exactly as he’d imagined. She was smart, edgy, yet down-to-earth in a way that reminded him of his mother. There was something about being around her that, quite simply, just made him feel good. He changed lanes and took the Peachtree exit.

  “Ah, we’re going to one of my favorite restaurants I see. I bet you guys eat at Taste all the time. I’m not complaining,” she hurried on. “Who better to patronize the establishment than the owners?”

  Toussaint smiled. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  Alexis’s brow furrowed when Toussaint passed the block on which Taste was located and continued toward the business district. What restaurant is out here?