Scandalicious: A Novel

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Scandalicious: A Novel Page 20

by Allison Hobbs

“Aye, man. Tell those two knuckleheads that Uncle Earl said, whassup.”

  “Okay, Earl. And try to stay employed…at least get through the ninety-day probationary period.”

  Lincoln and Earl shared a laugh before hanging up, but their laughter was hollow. Both were wondering about the fate of Earl’s friend, Crowbar.

  “I want to talk to you about something,” Lincoln said when Chevonne came home from the gym, carrying the paper brown, Chipotle bag.

  “Okay,” she said, looking worried.

  “Nothing to be upset about.”

  “That’s a relief,” she said, giving Lincoln her disarmingly beautiful smile. She unwrapped the foil around her sandwich. “I had a hard workout. So much stress on my job.” She cut the wrap in half and closed her eyes as she took a bite. “Want some?” In an intimate gesture, she offered Lincoln a bite of her sandwich.

  “No, I’m good. I had Buffalo wings.”

  She nodded as she chewed.

  “I think I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “Counseling.”

  Chevonne leaned back in surprise. “Seriously, Lincoln? You’re willing to go to couples’ counseling?”

  “Yeah, baby. It’s time. I want to get to the real cause of what happened to our marriage. I know we’re doing our best to try to fix what was broken. But it’s not working. All we’re doing is ignoring the problem.”

  Chevonne winced, taking aback by Lincoln’s brutal honesty.

  “I don’t think that trying to bury my feelings is the solution to our problem.” He looked at her intently. “I can’t fake it, Chevonne. What you did is still bothering me, and I’ve got a lot of pent-up anger.” He’d unconsciously balled his hand into a fist and was tapping anxiously on the kitchen table.

  “Do you want me to start looking for a therapist?”

  “Would you, babe?”

  “Of course.” She put her sandwich down, reached across the kitchen table and softly covered his hand with hers, defusing the impending violence of his restless fist.

  CHAPTER 39

  Deon was working for the agency tonight. He and Solay planned to spend time together later, after he’d finished with his escort duties. He told her to expect him around eleven.

  Solay was not comfortable openly discussing Deon’s escort itinerary, but he thought it was important to be open and honest about his job.

  She couldn’t deny the nagging awareness that at this exact moment, her man was getting spruced up, slapping on after shave, so that he could look and smell good for another woman. It made her a little sick to her stomach.

  She fondled the “love note” that hung from her neck, and felt a thrilling little tingle that instantly brought her out of the dark moment that had briefly held her captive.

  Having been up since five in the morning, Solay got in bed and curled under the covers. A two-hour nap would have her fresh and invigorated by the time that Deon stopped by.

  It’s funny how the mind works. The alarm on Solay’s cell was set for ten-thirty, yet her eyes sprang open at ten-fifteen. Wanting to look sexy for Deon, she didn’t waste any time hopping out of bed and heading for the shower. She checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror and frowned. Sleep had done a job on her face, leaving it puffy and tired…and looking irretrievably wrinkled. Gawd, she looked as if twenty years had been added to her age. Solay stepped into the stall, expecting a brisk shower to restore her face to its normal, youthful appearance.

  After a refreshing shower, she wrapped a towel around her and wiped the fog from the mirror. She studied her image, turning her face at different angles. Nothing had changed. She sucked her teeth at the betrayal in the mirror. Her eyes looked tired and her cheeks were so puffy, they looked stuffed with marshmallows. Shit! What the hell had she been doing—fighting in her sleep?

  It was unlike Solay to obsess about her looks, but with Deon constantly telling her that she was pretty, she wanted to feel remotely worthy of his compliments.

  Makeup! Though, she hardly ever wore the stuff, tonight was a good time to try to work some magic. She raced to her bedroom, retrieved her makeup bag from the top drawer, and raced back to the bathroom, where there was better lighting.

  Love! It was both exciting and scary at the same time. Love had Solay completely off balance, an emotional wreck.

  She had it all together by the time Deon arrived—music, candles, and sexy lingerie. Not to mention that the makeup had worked wonders.

  “Wow, look at you!” he said appreciatively. “You got all dolled up for me; what’s the occasion?”

  “Nothing. I missed you, baby!” Solay fell into his arms as if she hadn’t seen him for years.

  She nuzzled his neck and sniffed, and was jolted by the smell of a woman’s perfume. She could tell that it was something expensive, but on Deon, it smelled foul—really funky. Indignant, Solay wrenched away from him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can smell a woman’s perfume, Deon!”

  “For real? Aw, man.” Deon rubbed his neck, as if he could wipe the stench away. “My client, she…uh, she hugged me when we said good night.”

  “Oh, really! What kind of good night was that?”

  “Nothing serious.”

  “Her perfume is all over you. What the hell were you two doing, dry-humping at her front door?” Solay’s voice was high-pitched and furious.

  “Don’t be like that. Do you want me to take a shower?”

  “No,” she said petulantly.

  “Baby, you went out of your way to set up a romantic night…” He gestured toward the glowing candles that made a path from the living room to the bedroom.

  “Suddenly, I’m not feeling very romantic. And who could blame me?”

  Deon took his jacket off and sat on the couch. “I don’t wanna argue with you tonight. It’s late, and I have an appointment with a client at six in the morning.”

  Scowling, Solay sat on a chair across from him. “How do you think it makes me feel to know, you have to rush from my bed to go spend time with another woman?”

  He leaned back and grimaced. “Whoa, you’re over the top with this. My client is a fifty-something-year-old woman. There’s no reason for you to be jealous.”

  “Well, I can’t help it…I’m jealous!” She folded her arms and glowered at him. “Why can’t that old bag take her saggy butt to the gym? Why does my man have to be her personal trainer? If you weren’t hot-looking, I bet she wouldn’t be paying for you to stretch her out like Bowflex.”

  Deon laughed. It was light and easy.

  “You’re laughing, but I’m serious. I don’t like this shit, Deon.” Solay poked her finger, stabbing at the air in an angry gesture.

  Deon went silent; his mouth drawn tight in frustration.

  “Don’t you have anything to say?” she snapped.

  “Wow! You really spazzing out over this!”

  “Don’t act like I’m some crazy bitch, worked up over nothing. This is hard, Deon.” Solay’s voice cracked; tears spilled down her face. “I thought I could deal with it, but it’s a lot harder than I thought. Now you’ve started telling me all about your escort assignments, like that’s something I really want to hear about.”

  He blinked in confusion. “I thought you’d appreciate it if I kept it one hundred with you. I wouldn’t have shared that information if I thought it would hurt you. That’s the last thing that I want to do.”

  Solay sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Deon.” She shook her head. “Knowing what you’re out there doing…it’s a whole lot to handle.”

  “But I’m not doing anything. I swear, I’m only doing my job…being an escort. That’s it!” Deon held his arms out.

  “A male whore! I should know what you are; I paid for your stud service!” Solay shouted. “And being a personal trainer to middle-aged woman sounds like prostitution to me!”

  There was dead silence for a few moments. Deon looked at her, bewildered, and then rubbed his forehead, h
is hand moving circularly. “So we’re back to that same ol’ shit again,” he said through clenched teeth, voice low to show his restraint. “I thought we’d moved past it. I thought we were all right.”

  “How can we be all right? Accepting what you do for a living is awful…it’s demoralizing. I want a real relationship, Deon. One that’s exclusive.”

  “We are exclusive. I’m not seeing anybody else. I’m not making love to any other woman.”

  Wiping tears, Solay shook her head.

  “Think of it like this…if I was making a movie, and had to do a love scene, would you consider that as cheating? If I had to do a naked love scene that required twenty takes or more…would you think of it as male prostitution?”

  “But this isn’t a movie. It’s real life, and you’re delusional if you really think you’re going to have a film career. That’s nothing but a pipe dream. The only way we’re going to make it as a couple is if you get a real job, making a regular salary.”

  There, she’d said it, and Solay had no regrets. Deon had thought that cutting back his days would solve the problem, but it hadn’t. The fact remained that Deon was in intimate situations with too many women. He was supposed to be hers and hers only. Sharing him with a pack of desperate cougars and other horny bitches was taking a heavy emotional toll.

  “You’re the only woman that I ever had sex with on the job.”

  Solay held up a hand. “Deon, please.”

  “For real. The agency said that you just wanted to stay home. My intentions were to give you an erotic massage or some kind of romantic fantasy. I was going to play it by ear, since I never had a client that wanted to stay home before.”

  It seemed like he was speaking from the heart, but she wasn’t sure, so she kept her head down, biting her lip, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze.

  “There was this chemistry between us…instant attraction,” Deon went on. “One thing led to another and we ended up in bed. Think about it, Solay.”

  Finally, she raised her head.

  He tapped his chest. “I know what’s in my heart. I could have kept it strictly business between us…but I’m not that dude. No matter what you think, I’m not a male hoe.”

  “I don’t like behaving like this…acting jealous and resorting to name calling. It’s ugly…and I apologize. All I want is the reassurance that I’m the only woman in your life. and it’s hard to feel that way if you’re out with another woman on your arm.”

  “I can dig it. I’d feel the same way, if it was the other way around.” He pondered briefly. “Tell you what…let’s slow down. We can fall back for a minute. That audition that I was telling you about is coming up in a few days. I’ll be in on Wednesday, and I’m staying over until Thursday. If I don’t get it, we can go our separate ways.”

  Solay cringed at the idea of them splitting up for good. She merely wanted Deon to realize she couldn’t put up with him escorting or personally training women.

  “I don’t want this to end. You know that, but I don’t like seeing you upset like this and looking so unhappy.”

  “So, what you’re saying is…that the future of our relationship depends on an acting job?”

  “Pretty much.” With his fingers intertwined, Deon nodded his head. “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. You want a man with a job and a regular pay, but acting is my passion, and there are no guarantees in that profession.”

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d think Deon was simply crazy, thinking that he could go to New York and get an acting job just like that! She loved him, and she wanted to believe in him. But being realistic, his chances seemed slim.

  Deon stood up. “It’s been a long night, and I have to get up early, so I’ma bounce, baby.” He walked toward the front door.

  Solay was right behind him. He turned the doorknob and stood with the door cracked open. “I wanna say that I’ll hit you up tomorrow, but we need some distance—some time to think and get our minds right.”

  Solay nodded. “Call me when you get back from New York, okay?”

  “I love you, Solay. I mean it,” Deon said softly.

  “I love you, too.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” he said.

  The women’s fragrance that lingered on his clothes and on his skin put a barrier between them, and Deon didn’t try to kiss Solay. Instead, he kissed two fingers and held them out to her, before he closed the door gently behind him.

  CHAPTER 40

  With the assistance of an army of students, two thousand cupcakes were baked, frosted and carefully packaged. The gorgeous and scrumptious cupcakes were picked up by a city employee and placed in a city-owned van, and then delivered to the venue.

  Anita Blalock called Solay to thank her and to also invite her to the event. “The media is going to be in attendance, and from one sistah to another, I don’t want you to miss out on a photo op.”

  “Oh, thank you for the invitation. And thank you for selecting Scandalicious for your event.” Solay hung up and smiled. She had a big check from the city and now another blessing…possible promotion.

  She’d been so busy managing the students and getting two thousand cupcakes baked, that it hadn’t occurred to her until this moment, that she hadn’t spoken to Deon since the night he’d left her apartment. No phone calls and no texts. She’d never gotten around to telling him about her opportunity to showcase her cupcakes at a huge charity event. She wished he could share this moment with her, but he was in New York, right now, auditioning for a part. He was obviously giving her some space to analyze their relationship.

  She didn’t want to attend a semi-formal occasion without a date, but what could she do? Hmm. Pretty boy Vidal would make a perfect escort.

  “Are you free tonight?” she asked Vidal as she stocked the bakery case.

  “Depends.” He scowled as if expecting Solay to ask him to work overtime.

  “I’ve been invited to the mural event and I need an escort. Do you have a suit?”

  Vidal’s eyes lit up. “Of course I have a suit—I have a collection of suits: Armani, Marc Jacobs, Gucci, Prada—”

  “Great,” she interrupted. “Can you meet at the Radisson downtown at seven-thirty?”

  “Okay, but can I leave early?”

  “No, I need you out here working the front.”

  “Listen, I have to get my hair and nails done.” He suddenly smoothed the silky hair of his eyebrows. “Oh, Gawd, I need my eyebrows waxed, too! I can’t show up at a high-profile event looking any ole kinda way.”

  Solay sighed. “How early do want to leave, Vidal?”

  “In order to catch my hairstylist, I’ll have to be out of here…um…no later than three.”

  Solay sighed again…this time, long and loud. There was no getting around it. She had to give Vidal his way or got to the mural event alone. On second thought, she could call Rent-A-Man. Nah, she didn’t want to come off of all that money for a hired escort. Also, calling Deon’s employer didn’t sit well with Solay—she’d feel like she was cheating on Deon. Vidal was the perfect escort. He would enjoy the black-tie affair. Mingling with artists and ritzy corporate people would be right up his alley. He’d also take pleasure in seeing those two-thousand Scandalicious cupcakes that he helped create, prominently displayed.

  While most women planned and shopped and took forever to prepare for an important event, Solay had always been low-maintenance. She wore minimal makeup, her hair was styled in a basic wrap, and she maintained her own nails, filing them neatly and applying one coat of clear polish. Tonight she wore a basic black dress, understated jewelry, sensible heels, and a black clutch. Though the end result looked spectacular, it actually took less than an hour for Solay to pull her look together.

  With their arms linked, Solay and Vidal entered the grand ballroom of the Radisson. With his long hair flat-ironed to silky perfection, Vidal was catching the eye of both women and men, and he reveled in all the attention.

  The well-heeled guests mingled
and gazed at the artwork that was hung, but the real show-stopper was the cupcake display. A gigantic Plexiglas case that was shaped like the Liberty Bell dominated the ballroom.

  In awe, Solay and Vidal approached the cupcake exhibit.

  “This is amazing,” Solay murmured.

  “Our cupcakes look like little works of art,” Vidal commented as he gazed at the array of colorful cupcakes. “Let’s get some pictures before the vultures swoop down on our edible art.”

  Alongside Vidal were professional photographers, snapping away. Dressed casually, the photographers stood out from the black-tie crowd.

  “Are y’all from The Philadelphia Inquirer?” nosey Vidal asked.

  “I’m with Philadelphia Magazine,” said a man wearing Dockers and a T-shirt and had an awful, scraggly red-gold beard.

  “We baked all those cupcakes,” Vidal said proudly, motioning to himself and Solay.

  “Oh, are you the owners of Scandalicious?” the bearded man wanted to know.

  “I am. My name is Solay Dandridge.” Solay stepped forward and extended her hand.

  “Jack Grover…Philadelphia Magazine. I’d like to get a picture of you with the display if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Solay said, smiling broadly.

  “Umph, just knock me out of the way. I guess you don’t need me to baby-sit you any longer,” Vidal said huffily. “I might as well go mingle.” He skulked off, mumbling discontentedly.

  As Solay posed, the photographer asked a million questions about Scandalicious. “Maybe we can do a separate story featuring your shop in our Christmas issue.” He gave her his card and merged into the crowd.

  Now Solay needed a drink to steady her nerves. One amazing thing after another had been happening for her. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. Taking a risk, along with hard work, was really starting to pay off.

  After ordering a martini, she caught up with Vidal on the other side of the huge ballroom. He was sipping from a martini glass that was filled with a blue concoction. He seemed to be engrossed in a conversation with an artsy-looking guy. Though he had on a suit and tie, the young man Vidal was talking with was wearing a pair of sneakers. His long locks were tied in two ponytails. Interesting.

 

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