Suspicions

by Sasha Campbell

  “Yeah . . . whatever. You don’t want to do it? Fine. I won’t ever ask you again.” He pulled up his boxers, then reached for his pants and slipped them on, followed by his shirt. I rose and wrapped my arms around him and tried to kiss him, but he didn’t kiss me back.

  “Kimbel, please don’t be mad,” I whimpered. He sure looked angry. I’d never seen him act like this before. “It’s going to be worth the wait . . . I promise.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you say.” He went into our bedroom with a huff, then came out a few seconds later with car keys in his hands. I put down the magazine I was pretending to thumb through.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out to have a drink with my boy.”

  Kimbel knew I hated when he hung out with PJ. Even though he was married, PJ messed around on his wife. That was definitely not the type of influence Kimbel needed. “Instead of walking out on me, we should talk.”

  “We’re done talking. You said no and I respect that. I’ll see you later.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek, then headed out the door. Within minutes I heard his Jaguar pull away. I sat there for the longest time scared to death. In my head, I could hear that stupid conversation the other day at the salon. Those heifers had me thinking again. If Kimbel wanted a blow job, how long would it be before he found someone who was willing to do what I wouldn’t?

  6

  Candace

  I had stepped into Situations and was heading over to Tiffany’s booth, when something—correction—someone caught my eye.

  “Who’s that?” Obviously—my question wasn’t quiet, because some nosy female sitting on the couch to my far right whipped her matted head around, looked my way, and smiled.

  My girl Tiffany glanced up from her client’s hair and followed the direction of my eyes. “Oh, that’s Chauncey,” she replied, eyes beaming like she knew something that I didn’t.

  “Chauncey? When he start working here?” I came into the salon at least once a month to get my hair and nails done, but I’d never seen him before. Trust me, a man that fine . . . I would have remembered.

  “He’s been here almost two months. Remember, you cancelled your appointment last month.”

  She was right, which was the reason why I desperately needed some serious work on my toes. The polish was chipped and my heels were so crusty I put a hole in my pantyhose this morning.

  All the seats in the waiting room were taken, so I stood over near Tiffany while she put a relaxer in some chick’s hair. The whole time I was watching him out the corner of my eyes.

  “He’s fine, ain’t he?” Tiffany teased.

  Fine wasn’t the word. He was sexy as all get out, but I wasn’t about to let her know that. “He’s aw’ight,” I replied, trying to act like he was no big deal. Trust me, the last thing I wanted anyone to know was that I was truly feeling a dude that I hadn’t even met yet.

  I leaned against the wall and watched him talking to the owner at the rear of the salon. It was hard to be discreet, yet I couldn’t stop staring. Chauncey’s back was turned and I admired his wide shoulders and the way he filled out a pair of loose-fitting stonewashed jeans. They weren’t sagging to his knees like Tyree wore his pants; instead, they hung from his waist just right.

  He had beautiful dreadlocks that were worn pulled back with a leather band. I could only imagine how they looked swinging around his shoulders. He was about five-ten and weighed at least two hundred. His biceps were large with tattoos that covered the length of both arms. I was dying to know what they said. After a while I felt stupid standing there saying nothing while I stared across the room at some dude who looked too much like a thug for my taste. After Tyree and a handful of others, I decided that I had a habit of picking the wrong men. Well, no more. Tonight I had a blind date with a fourth-year medical student whom one of the nurses at the clinic had hooked me up with. At first I was skeptical about going out with a man I hadn’t even seen, but Brenda had brought in a photo of her nephew and he was a cutie. Not as fine as the dude standing across the room, who was now talking to some fat chick, but good-looking enough for me to go out with him and see where the evening might lead. Brenda told me he was 30 and ready to settle down and start a family. That was enough for me.

  “You still going out tonight?” Tiffany asked as if she had been reading my mind.

  I nodded and briefly gave her my attention. “Yep, he’s picking me up at seven.”

  “Make sure you call me afterwards with all the details.” Tiffany sounded more excited about my date than I was.

  “You know I will.” She and I had been best friends since eighth grade. Tiffany and her mom, Ruby Dee, had been members of my father’s church for years. Her mother never allowed Tiffany to have many friends. The only reason why I was allowed to hang with her was because I was the preacher’s daughter and her mother thought I was a good influence on Tiffany. I used to laugh about that. I guess she didn’t know that preacher’s kids were some of the biggest freaks.

  I glanced down at my watch, then over at Chauncey. He washed his hands and moved back onto the floor. Damn, I loved me a bowlegged man. He smiled, and all I could do was stare at him with my mouth open. He was gorgeous. No more thugs. No more thugs. The sooner I got my toes done and got the hell outta Dodge, the better. “Where’s Julie?”

  Tiffany didn’t even bother to look up. “Quit.”

  “Quit?” I asked as if I had heard her wrong. When she confirmed with a nod, I leaned in and whispered, “Then who’s doing my feet?”

  She pointed across the room. “That fine-ass specimen standing in the back. Tif, guuurrrl, he’s good, too! Why you think the lobby is full? All those chicks are waiting for him to put his hands on their feet.”

  I looked over at Chauncey again. For a second, I thought he was moving to the barber chair in back. Instead, he had taken a seat on a stool in front of the foot spa and was playing with that fat girl’s feet. My mouth went dry. A man doing pedicures? What the hell? And not just any man, but that sexy creature standing a few feet away. “Oh, hell no! There’s no way I’m letting a man do my pedicure.” Not the way my toes were looking. You would think I’ve been running around barefoot in the jungle, carrying a spear.

  Tiffany chuckled and shook her head like she was trying to figure out how I could pass up letting a man that fine play with my toes. “Suit yourself. Cheryl will be in on Thursday if you want to reschedule.”

  Damn! I was tired of slicing my leg in my sleep. I needed my feet done today. Tiffany and I were planning to go out Saturday night, and I was dying to wear a new pair of Baby Phat sandals I bought at River Oaks Mall last month. For a quick second, I thought about going to the nail salon down the street and decided against it. Unlike other salons, Situations had a satisfaction guarantee policy. If cutie-pie jacked up my feet, Noelle would refund my money. I guess I don’t have much of a choice.

  “He’s good.” I guess Tiffany could tell I was skeptical. “Trust me. All them chicks ain’t here to see me,” she reminded me, just in case I didn’t hear her the first time. I looked at the women eagerly waiting, and the two already sitting in the massage chairs.

  “I guess,” I mumbled under my breath, then took a seat in the reception area. One female’s mouth was watering as she stared at Chauncey’s ass.

  “Guuurrrl, I heard that feet ain’t the only thing he’s good at,” she mumbled to the chick sitting beside her.

  I rolled my eyes. Some females don’t have nothing better to do than spread rumors. The last thing I wanted was a man everybody was trying to get with. I bet you money Chauncey’s been seen at least once at the clinic. You better believe tomorrow morning I planned on running his name through our computer. Speak of the devil . . . he was walking toward me. Lord have mercy! He had the prettiest caramel skin and the most beautiful set of eyes. I couldn’t decide if they were gray or light brown.

  “Which one of you sexy ladies is next?” Chauncey licked a juicy top lip that was covered with a thin mustache. I had to
take several deep breaths to regain my composure, then slowly raised my hand. He nodded, then motioned toward the empty chair on the right. “After you.”

  Suck it up, Candace! I took his cue and moved onto the floor. It took everything I had to ignore his appreciative smile as I passed in black slacks, white blouse, and black leather mules, wishing I had worn the red wrap dress and stilettos I had pulled out my closet this morning. I’m a 36-28-38, which means I’ve got perfect breasts, a small waist, and a black woman’s ass. I loved to be admired and will tell a brotha in a second, “You can look, but you can’t touch.”

  I took a seat and our eyes collided. “How are you doing today?” he asked.

  “Fine.” I started chanting in my head. Stay focused.You didn’t come to conversate. You came to get your toes done. Chauncey was gorgeous, but he’s still a man just like all the others, at least that’s what I was trying to convince myself. Men who looked like him trapped you with their good looks and charm, and once they’ve stolen your heart, dropped you like a bad habit. I slipped off my shoes, rolled up my pants legs, took a seat, then lowered my feet in the tub. To make sure he knew what time it was, I reached for a book out of my purse.

  “How’s that water feel?”

  Almost as good as that warm tingling feeling he was causing between my legs. My feet felt so good I wanted to moan, but I forced myself to nod since I definitely didn’t trust myself to speak.

  “Sit back and enjoy. I’ll be back in a second.” He programmed the massage chair, then walked over to pick up some sterilized utensils. I took advantage of the opportunity to watch him move. Oh, did he have a swagger that was out of this world. His walk reminded me of my baby’s daddy, which was an oh-hell-no! moment. Chauncey was definitely not the type of man I needed in my life. I forced myself to dig deep and remember what I had gone through with Tyree.

  Tyree had been locked up long before Miasha was even born, and ever since he was paroled, he been dropping by almost every week. However, every time he came through, he seemed more interested in climbing back in my bed than spending time with his daughter. I need stability in my life. And Tyree was definitely not the one.

  Chauncey took a seat on the stool in front of me. “What can I do for you?”

  “French tips would be fine.”

  He smiled up at me, batting his thick, long lashes, and I felt my stomach quiver. “Your man ever tell you you have pretty feet?” Oh Lord, no, he wasn’t trying to go there. “Baby, they look good enough to suck.” Was he actually flirting with me?

  I glanced over at the female in the next chair. She looked like she wanted to slap me because he was talking about my feet and not hers. I cut my eyes at her because she needed to mind her own business. As desperate as she looked, she probably would have asked, “When and where you want it?” A female like me simply had more respect for herself than to fall for that shit he was dishing out. “Are you going to do my feet or what, ’cause I can just come back another time?”

  For a brief second I thought Chauncey was going to tell me to do just that and I would have slapped myself if he had. But as quickly as the frown appeared, it left and his smile returned. “Damn, boo . . . relax . . . I got you.”

  “I ain’t your boo.” I hardened the tone of my voice. If I could keep this attitude up until I got out the salon, I would be fine at least until I got home and grabbed my vibrator from the nightstand. His smile was sexy and the way he talked was a downright turn-on. Why he gotta be so fine?

  I opened my book and tried to focus on reading. I love me some James Patterson, but it was hard to focus when a gorgeous man was handling my feet. He rubbed hot oil on my legs all the way up past my knees. Ooh, Chauncey had mad skills! I couldn’t help but wonder what else he was good at. Maybe I should have paid closer attention to what they were discussing in the lobby.

  I looked up from my book and my eyes locked in his gray depth. I kid you not, while Chauncey rubbed oil on my calves, he stared up into my eyes with his lips parted and a look on his face that said, “You know you want some of this.” And no matter how hard I tried to look away, I couldn’t. This man had a sex appeal about him that was dangerous, to say the least.

  “You want your nails shortened?” he asked, then licked his lips.

  “Uh-huh.” I nodded my head like an idiot. Snap out of it! I went back to reading my book while he doctored my feet. I had managed to read two pages when I heard him ask me a question.

  “What’s your name?”

  I frowned because he had interrupted my flow, but the sexy smirk on his beautiful face made it impossible to stay mad. “Candace.”

  “Nice to meet you, Candace.” I could have sworn there was a twinkle in his eye. I nodded, then went back to reading again.

  “So what you do for a living, Candace?”

  I lifted my gaze to meet his. “Why? You looking for someone to pay your bills?” Shit, I had to ask. Most of the men I knew were always looking for a handout.

  He laughed. “Actually, I don’t believe in taking money from a woman. I just asked because you stepping in here looking all good in that outfit.”

  “Really? You don’t take women’s money? I find that hard to believe since you work here. I’m sure your pockets are full of tips.”

  “It comes with the job. Trust me . . . anything I get from a female is because I earned it. I believe in putting in my work.”

  “I know that’s right!” cried the overweight chick in the chair beside me. Why was she so loud? She rolled up a tendollar bill and slipped it into his shirt pocket but not before grazing her thumb across his pecs. “Lord, you should be outlawed!” she added with a giggle.

  I started reading my book again, ignoring both their asses. The last thing I needed was to be competing with another woman for a man’s attention, not that I had anything to worry about. I was short, petite, and sexy. I was confident in my own skin, and that’s not something every woman could comfortably say about herself.

  Chauncey finished up that chick’s feet, and while she threw herself at him I concentrated on my book. I was so into the mystery that I didn’t even realize he was scraping the heel of my foot. Dead skin flew all over his lap. I was so embarrassed for coming in here like that.

  “So, Candace . . . you got a man?”

  I looked up from my page. “Nope, but I’m seeing someone.” Technically, I was seeing someone, starting tonight. Hopefully there would be a lot more after that. Chauncey licked his lips again. I was ready to reach in my purse and hand him some ChapStick.

  “So I guess there’s no chance of me taking you out to dinner?”

  I laughed. “Damn, smooth. Is that how you do it?’

  He looked confused. “Do what?”

  “Make your tips by asking females out while you’re playing with their feet. I saw how you were looking at that chick sitting under the nail dryer, staring up at her with your pretty eyes while licking your lips.”

  “So you like my eyes?” he asked with a confident smirk.

  Why was he twisting my words around? Okay, so maybe I do think his eyes are sexy, and maybe he does remind me of Michael Ealy from Barbershop 2, but I’d been damned before I tell him that. “All I’m saying is that I’m not in the mood for some muthafucka running game. Been there and got the stretch marks to prove it.” He shook his head and had the nerve to start laughing. “What the hell is so funny?”

  “You, sexy.”

  The way the word sexy rolled of his tongue caused me to squeeze my thighs together while I watched as he walked over and retrieved some hot towels. He laid them across my legs and I exhaled. Chauncey signaled for the next customer to take a seat and I sat there pretending to read my book, but really, I was flabbergasted. I couldn’t believe how quickly he had given up. Most dudes kept asking me out until I either said yes or cussed them out.

  When Chauncey came back a few minutes later to paint my feet, he didn’t even bother to strike up a conversation about anything other than if I was happy with his serv
ice, and I must say, he did one helluva job. I paid him. Gave him a reasonable tip because I was paying him for his service, not his looks, then moved over to the foot dryer and listened to him laughing with another client. Chauncey was definitely a hit with the females. Like I said, he wasn’t at all what I needed in my life.

  I got up to leave and Tiffany signaled for me. “Get on over here and let me see your feet.” I came over still wearing those disposable flip-flops. “Ooh, I love the way he put a pink rhinestone at the corner of your big toes.”

  “Yeah, I do look kinda cute,” I giggled, then wiggled my hips to the beat of the music all the way out the door. For some reason, I couldn’t help it, I had to take one last look. I glanced through the glass and found Chauncey watching me. He was staring so hard I was trapped in his spell. He stole my breath away. I don’t know how long I would have stood there staring through the window if someone hadn’t tapped me on my shoulder.

  “Uh, excuse me.” My head whipped around to stare at some chick with a unibrow, waiting impatiently to get inside the salon. With that thick bush, she looked like one of those aliens from Star Trek. I hope for her sake she was here to get those eyebrows waxed. I moved out of her way and hurried over to a white Pontiac GT parked on the corner. Mama let me borrow her car for the afternoon so I could run to the store before going to pick up Miasha.

  I was on my way to Dominick’s grocery store and was still thinking about Chauncey. I didn’t need a college education to understand I liked everything I saw. It’s a damn shame, but I was more interested in knowing about Chauncey than I was about my date tonight. For the life of me I couldn’t even remember that dude’s name.

  The second I pulled into the parking lot, Tyree called. “What do you want, Tyree?” I barked.

  “What you think I want? To see my daughter. To come by and break you off some money and maybe take y’all up to White Castle’s for some burgers.”