“Might have been me.” She padded over to her closet.
“Who woke me up at one in the morning talkin’ bout ‘just a lil taste?’ ” I reached around her and pulled out a sheath dress in an ocean color. I handed it to her.
She sent me a look and stepped into it. “Might have been me as well.”
I rifled through my garment bag. “Mmm-hmm. By the way, I’m out of clothes. Someone wouldn’t let me go by Katrina’s to pick something up. Unless you want me coming to work in a towel, I have to go.”
“We have sample clothes, sugar. Now is as good a time as ever to see how they look on. And speaking of work . . .”
Something in her tone alerted me and I paused midstep. “Yes?”
“I don’t want to advertise our . . . thing.” She made an I-don’t-know-what-to-call-it gesture with her hands.
“Thing?” I repeated the gesture.
She pulled on some eelskin sandals and looked at me. “You know what I’m talking about . . . the more intimate aspect of our relationship.”
“Oh, are we calling this a relationship?” I kept my tone even and selected slate-gray dress pants with a mint-green pinstripe. I would have to go commando. I added the checked white and kelly green shirt. It shouldn’t have looked good together but it did.
“As opposed to calling it what?” She put a hand on her hip.
No way was I going to start throwing descriptive terms around. “I’m Backseat Beau, remember? This is your show.”
“I’m going to have to call bullshiggity on that. I’m running the show at work but uh . . . that’s about it. The rest of the time, you set the music we dance to, sir.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“It’s not a complaint, Beauregard. Don’t get all hot grits in a sizzling skillet on me.”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t do ‘hot grits on a platter,’ or whatever you just said. What does that even mean? Mon Dieu, I’m just asking if you want to have that ‘what is this?’ conversation right now. Do you have the answers to the questions?”
“Do you, darlin’?” She had the attitude of one spoiling for a fight. I wasn’t in the mood to oblige.
“I’m in this. Whatever it is. You’re the one trying to keep secrets,” I shot back.
“I’m not keeping you a secret; I just don’t want to be undermined at work.”
“I think I can be counted on not to grab your ass from eight to five. I do have some sense of professional decorum about myself.” I was starting to get pissed off. I was only good enough to bounce around with in the dark? Really?
“You’re being deliberately snarky.”
“You’re being deliberately rude. If you don’t want to claim me, just say so.”
“Claim you?”
“Sure, if I’m just a cut buddy say it straight out. I’m a grown-ass man; I can take it.”
“Would I have introduced a cut buddy to my family? My father?”
I shrugged. Who knew what she thinking? I sure as hell didn’t.
“This is one of those pretty boy problems, huh?”
“Beg pardon?”
“You’re never sure if someone wants you for you or all your pretty.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, cuz you’re such a hag yourself.”
She laughed. “What are we arguing about?”
“Were we arguing? I was just looking for clarity.”
“Smart-ass. Can we not act like we just jumped each other when we get to the office?”
“Pas de probléme.”
“Can you not look at me like I’m the last slice of peach pie at the county fair?”
“I’m the soul of restraint, mon ami.”
“Like just now?” she said, looking toward the bathroom.
Okay, I had kinda run up on her. I’d own that. “I got it; no bending you over the conference room table and having my way with you.”
“Yeah, um, none of that.”
“No grabbing your hips and pulling them to mine while we share one of those long, slow kisses you’re so good at.”
She put her hand up. “See, this is how you start.”
I gave her my most innocent look, “Me? Mais non, I’m going to be good.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
19
All My Eggs in the Beauregard Basket
Belle—Saturday, May 14, 8:21 PM (later that week)
I checked my Facebook page on my phone as we waited to be seated. “Sweet Jesus, my father has posted another article about black single women over the age of thirty and their chances of achieving happily ever after. He’s added a cheery ‘Don’t let this be you!’ with the link. Whoever put that man on Facebook has a lot to answer for.” Dad had been on a not-so-subtle matrimony theme since meeting Beau.
“My mother used to send me those. Now she’s sending me reminders about babies and fertility treatments,” Jewellen said. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with Beau’s sister-in-law, but what I knew I liked.
“Good Lord, that’s wrong on so many levels,” I sympathized.
“Wait until he forgets that Facebook is public and posts something really personal for all your friends to see. My mother is no longer allowed to post on my wall.” Jewel shook her head. The hostess led us to a booth near the back windows.
“But let’s flip the topic back, Belle. Speaking of happily ever afters, spill it,” Katrina said the minute we put down our purses and slid into the booth at the P. F. Chang’s in Northpark Center. We were all casually dressed in jeans and summer tops since it was still over one hundred degrees outside.
I smiled as the server handed us menus and walked away. “What are you talking about? I think I’m in the mood for seafood; how about you?”
“I never turn down seafood,” Jewellen cosigned.
“Ms. Richards? Ma’am? Just who do you think you’re talking to here?” Katrina said, running her eyes up and down the menu before setting it down.
I sighed. She was giving me the Montgomery pretty-eye stare. I’d seen it from Beau enough times to recognize it for what it was. It meant they wanted answers and they wanted them now. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
“What’s up with you and Brother Beau, besides the obvious?”
I played dumb. “The obvious?”
“You two are clearly gettin’ it in at every available opportunity.”
I winced. “Kat.”
Jewel blinked at both of us. “When did this happen? I’m so out of the loop.”
Katrina said, “A few weeks now. They’re still in that ‘give it to me, baby’ phase, where everyone knows what they’ve been doing all night.”
I had no defense. “You’re killing me, Katrina.”
“Oh, I’m not supposed to mention the ‘just got laid and laid well’ vibe dripping off the two of you twenty-four seven, making the rest of us sick?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, you’re not.”
“Fine. We’ll just bury our head in the sand on that one. But my brother hasn’t slept at my house since you two jetted off for Hotlanta. I wanna know what’s really happening. Is it a love thing or what?”
Excellent question and one that I did not have the answer to . . . at all. “We uh—we haven’t put a label on it as yet.” The waiter appeared beside the table and asked for our drink order.
“Ginger-peach iced tea, please,” Katrina said to the waiter.
“Sprite,” Jewel requested.
“I’ll have the blackberry iced tea. And some lettuce wraps?” I added.
The waiter moved away after setting three glasses of water on the table. Katrina started back in again. “Let me see if I understand. He works with you all day and stays with you all night and you haven’t defined it yet?”
“He moved in with you?” Jewel asked, eyes wide.
“Not exactly,” I dodged.
“He might as well have,” Katrina volunteered. “You all haven’t had the what are we doing talk?”
“Not in so many words, not r
eally.” Now I was tempted to squirm. I wanted off the hot seat, please.
Katrina clucked her teeth. “Belle, you are the most dot-the-i-and-cross-the-t person I know, and you’re just winging it?”
Sounded bad when she put it like that, but . . . “Yes.”
“That’s okay as long as you’re both comfortable with it.” Jewel shrugged.
“Well, how do you feel?” Katrina asked.
“About what?”
“About him!” Katrina slammed her hand down on the table in impatience.
“Oh. Well, I like him.” I did. I liked Beau a lot.
“Clearly,” Jewel added.
“And I respect him.”
“Another good thing,” Katrina added.
My voice and expression went dreamy. “And since you brought it up . . . the things that man can do to me! Gets me every time. That Cajun has the most magical—”
Katrina squealed in protest. “Hold up, that’s my brother you’re sexually objectifying.”
“I was going to say hands.” No, I wasn’t.
She shook her head violently. “No you weren’t! Eww!”
Jewel grinned. “Those Montgomery men are... blessed with natural talent.”
“Well, yes, they’re given so much to work with.” She and I exchanged a high five and a giggle.
Jewel leaned in. “Nothing like a big, strong, take charge man who knows what he’s doing!”
“Amen!” I agreed.
Katrina’s horrified gaze cut from me to Jewellen and back. “You two can see me, right? I haven’t turned invisible.”
“Our bad,” Jewel teased. “But you have to know your brothers are fine.”
“Nuff said. Fine I can live with.” Katrina put her hand up. “But beyond that, please ladies. Now, Belle, what else?”
“Oh I’m just not sure...” I wasn’t ready to make any sort of declarations.
Katrina frowned at me. “What?”
“Katrina, you know your brother.”
“I am familiar with him, yes.”
“I can’t put all my eggs in the Beauregard basket, know what I’m saying?”
“Hmmm.” Jewel crossed her arms and sat back.
“Clarify.” Katrina tilted her head to the side.
“What I mean is—how do I know I’m not just Beau’s current flavor? Your brother has cut quite the swath through the female population. I’ve never seen any indication that he was a settle-down-forever kind of guy.”
“Six months ago, I would have agreed with you. But Beau has come into his own lately. He’s on some grown-man flow. He’s focused, he’s driven, he’s dedicated, and I’m not just talking about at work. Believe me, if you were just one of Beau’s rotating cuties, he would be hanging out at night and coming into work late, taking long lunches and basically disappearing at random times. If Beau doesn’t give a damn, he doesn’t give a damn. He doesn’t keep up appearances or sugarcoat. He’s authentic one way or the other.”
I laughed. “You’re saying if your brother was just playing—”
“He would be acting like a playboy. He’s into you, Belle,” Katrina assured me.
Jewel nodded. “I have to agree. I have seen Beau in playboy mode. This isn’t that. I knew something was different when he brought you to Sunday dinner. He’s never brought a woman to the family dinner.”
“Oh, it was really more of a casual thing.”
Katrina shook her head. “No, it wasn’t. Beau acts casual, but he’s not.”
That made me happy and nervous all at the same time. “I hear you.”
“Please do. If you’re not all in, cut him loose. He acts like he’s made of Teflon and as if nothing hurts him, but underneath all that pretty is a sensitive soul.”
“Another Montgomery trait?” Jewel asked with a smile.
“Maybe, but it’s definitely more pronounced in Beau. Roman holds it in and then blows up, sharing every thought and feeling until he’s positive you’ve heard and understood him. Beau is the smiling, silent one. He’s all swirling emotion and heart under the surface, behind that easy smile.”
My heart hitched a little. “I know. Every now and again, there’s this vulnerability that shows through. Just grabs you right there, you know? You wouldn’t believe how great he was with my family. My father all but called him ‘son.’ ”
“Well, then . . . you know I’m down for another sister-in-law.”
“Amen again,” Jewellen said, clinking her drink glass with Katrina’s.
I hastened to set them straight. “Hold up ladies, we’re still at early stages yet; you all have us marching down the aisle. Everybody just take a step back and give us some time.”
“Hmpfh. You’re not getting any younger,” Katrina muttered.
“And those eggs don’t stay fresh forever,” Jewel said, trying to keep a straight face.
I sent both of them a side-eye and motioned for the waiter. “Can you bring a round of pear mojitos for the table, please? A few of us need to mellow out.”
20
You Turnin’ In Your Playa Card?
Beau—9:09 PM the same night
“Did your brother share with you that he is completely and totally whipped?” Carter asked Roman. My father walked back to the table at that moment with a pitcher of beer.
“My eldest? Whipped? C’est inconcevable!” Avery Senior set the pitcher in the center of the table and sat down in between me and Carter. We were relaxing at a table in a sports bar watching the NBA playoffs.
“It’s not only possible, it’s entirely true.” Carter laughed and poured himself a mug.
I sighed. “I’m already regretting inviting you out to Montgomery Man Night.”
“I like to think of myself as a Montgomery man just through length of acquaintance and the fact that your mama loves me.”
“She does love the boy.” Pops nodded.
“God only knows why,” I muttered.
Roman rolled his eyes. “So back to the whipped part? By who? How? And since when?”
“Gotta be that Belle; she was something special.” Pops gave a sly grin.
I almost spit my beer across the table. “M’excusez?”
“Hmpfh. You’re excused. I’m married, not dead, boy. I have eyes in my head; I’m gonna use ’em. That’s a good-looking woman with a nice shape and some sense in her head. You might wanna lock that one down.”
I exchanged a look with Roman. Pops was in rare form today. Roman smiled. “So, you and a former supermodel. I’m stunned.”
“Don’t start. It’s not even like that.”
“No?” He quirked a brow.
Carter said, “He chartered a jet to take her home when her father was in the hospital. And he went with her. And he stayed.”
Pops whistled. “You met the family?”
“Mais oui.”
Roman’s eyebrows went up. “That’s different. Beau actually opening up his wallet?”
“I pay for things,” I snapped, irritated at the inference.
“No one is calling you cheap,” Carter explained, “but you are not one to make extravagant gestures.”
“It wasn’t an extravagant gesture,” I countered.
“Son, you chartered a private plane to fly yourself and a woman you had known for less than a month eight hundred miles. I ain’t one to put labels on things, but that spells sprung to me,” Pops pointed out.
Roman and Carter roared with laughter. I had to smile. “Maybe it was a little over the top, but it got her attention.” After that slip-up with Renee, I needed a grand gesture. That flight back had been worth every single damn penny.
“I see by that smile it must have been worth it,” Carter said.
“You know a gentleman never kisses and tells. But I’d do it all over again.”
“So what does this mean?” Roman asked. “We’re a little past the point of using terms like ‘girlfriend’.”
“You boys are past the point of having girlfriends,” Avery Senior said. “Well past
time for the house to be running over with grandchildren. At least this one gotta wife and a son. You need to get on it, Beauregard.”
“We’re not there yet. Well, she’s not there yet.” I knew if I got the slightest sign from her that she was looking for a serious commitment from me, I was ready. Even if it gave me a little unease.
Carter slammed his glass down on the table. “Wait a damn minute! Are you talking about turnin’ in your playa card?”
I considered it for a second. “Maybe so. Maybe so.”
Roman smiled. “So this is the one, huh? She’s it?”
“I think so, bro.”
An attractive young woman walked up and tapped me on the shoulder. “Excuse me?”
I flashed a grin. “Yes?”
“My friends and I are wondering if you and your friends would like to join us for a drink?”
I didn’t even turn to look at the table of friends she was referring to. “I’m sorry petite fille, not tonight. But tell your friends we appreciate the offer.”
She nodded and walked away. I turned back to the table and found three sets of eyes staring at me with varying shades of disbelief. “What?” I asked defensively.
Roman exclaimed, “I’ve never seen you turn a good-looking woman down.”
“Why did you speak for all of us? I’m not shackled up like you three,”Carter complained.
Pops said, “I’m proud of you, Beauregard.”
I shook my head. “You guys are killing me. I haven’t been that bad, have I?”
“Man, don’t get us started.”
“Pontchartrain Poonhound sound familiar?”
“You’ve made some changes. Some of them just because it was time and others are directly from having this woman in your life. I like what I’m seeing.” My father nodded as he spoke.
“Do we have to hug it out or can we just watch the game now?” I asked, feeling more than a little bit self-conscious.
Carter teased, “So we’re in agreement on that whipped thing?”
“You wish you were whipped,” Roman said. Pops and I toasted him for that one.
21
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