Full Figured 4: Carl Weber Presents

by Weber, Natalie

  On the very day that I decided it was time to close the doors, the limousine with Patti LaBelle pulled up in front of my shop. I was thinking to myself that maybe I had finally won the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes, and Ed McMahon had come to run my money. I had already packed up most of the shop at that point, and one couldn’t tell whether I was moving in or out, because there were boxes everywhere. Part of the problem was I couldn’t find reliable stylists to fill the other chairs. I took a glance in the mirror. I had to make sure my hair was straight and my lip gloss was popping for my big TV debut.

  I noticed two big and burly men get out of the limo and wondered when Ed had started running with security. Or, maybe this was the part they didn’t show on TV. Watching intently, and practicing my surprised reaction in my head, I noticed a woman exit the vehicle with bug-eyed glasses and a huge hat covering her head. Okay, this was some new shit, but I was ready to roll with it.

  One of the guards walked in the front, and one in the back, and that was when it dawned on me that this wasn’t Ed McMahon, and I wasn’t about to make a major come up. Resting my body back in my chair, I prepared myself to tell this person that my shop was closed for business. I had packed everything away, and I really didn’t know where anything was, so even if I wanted to make that last couple of bucks before I shut the doors forever, I couldn’t.

  “I’m sorry. I’m closed for business,” I said to the trio as they entered the salon. The guy in the front acted like he didn’t hear a word I said, and my face was on a fast track to a frown until the woman walked in. She gracefully removed her glasses, and I almost hit the floor when I realized it was none other than Patti LaBelle standing in my doorway.

  “Honey, you might want to open back up. I have an emergency, and you are the only shop open right now that can fix it. I have to be in front of the camera in three hours.”

  I was stuck on stupid, to say the least. Here I was, praying for a come up, and I had just come up in a major way. Patti LaBelle was standing in my shop, and I was stuck with my mouth open.

  “Okay, let’s get started. What do you want done?” I responded, coming to my senses quickly and ungluing my feet from the floor.

  I jumped up and began searching through the million or so boxes so that I could at least get started. I had an entire case of Indian Remy hair that I knew she would love, and so many styles flowed through my head as I searched around. Would she want something slick and chic, or would she want something wild and crazy? Patti was so versatile, you just never knew what to expect from her. I couldn’t believe I had got an opportunity like this, and I knew that after today I would be unpacking my boxes for good. I had to give it another shot.

  We chatted like old friends as we searched through hair magazines and came up with a style that she loved. I even used some of my specially made hair products, and everything flowed naturally. Patti was so warm and inviting, and by the time I turned her chair toward the mirror and added my finishing touches, we had exchanged numbers, and she’d promised to send me some business. On top of all that, she paid me three times the amount I was charging her, and shouted out my salon information during her interview.

  My shop door was in full swing after that, and pretty soon I had way more clients than I could handle. See how God works? I had to call in some reinforcements, and it didn’t take a lot to convince my bestest buddy since forever to take a chair. After the grueling task of finding another stylist with a license, we finally added Shay to the team, and it was straight to the top from there. Within that year I hired a masseuse and a manicurist, and it was a full spa experience behind those doors. Not only could you get fried, dyed, and laid to the side, you could also get pampered with a relaxing massage, among other things. We were waxing and plucking and all that jazz.

  I was enjoying the boost my shop got, and I was able to stack up some major cash in the process. Life was good, finally, and it got even better when I was invited by Jill Scott to an invite-only mixer that was being held in Olde City. I met her at a hair show I was attending where she was the opening act, and I was able to slip her my card on the low. She came to my shop a few times when she was home in Philly, and we got to be real cool. When she invited me out to the mixer, there was no way I could say no. I took an entire day and cleared my book so that I could be ready. Terrell made sure my hair was fabulous after I had a relaxing massage and a brown sugar facial. Tisha, my manicurist, got my feet and hands together, and I got dressed at the shop to make sure my outfit was on point. At that time I was a tight size eleven, with an ample ass and perfect breasts. Those were the days.

  I was killing them softly when I stepped into the party. I rushed over to Jill when I saw her. I had done her hair the day before, and she told me to have plenty of business cards with me at the party. It was a nice crowd of celebrities and others who were powerful on the back end of the business. John Legend, Musiq Soulchild, and a few others were in the building, doing their thing. I had to take a chill pill for a second after doing the Dougie with Alicia Keys on the dance floor. Still smiling, I walked up to the bar to order a coke; I’d had one drink already, and that was my limit. Drunk driving was not my thing. Besides, the Aston Martin I had rented needed to be back to the dealer in one piece, so I wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Can I have a Coke please?” I leaned over and asked the bartender over the loud music. On the lean back a fine-ass man caught my attention, and I had to keep myself from staring. I had obviously caught his, too, because he smiled at me. When the bartender brought my drink over, he said it had been paid for by my admirer. I mouthed a thank-you his way, turning my back to the bar. As I sipped, I looked out on the crowd, feeling great. I could definitely get used to this! I had passed out a lot of business cards to celebrities and models as well, hoping it would drum up more business. My salon was doing great, but new business was always good.

  “So, how are you enjoying the festivities?” said a smooth, deep voice from the side. I turned to see the guy from the end of the bar standing at my side, and he was even more gorgeous up close. Damn.

  “I’m having a great time so far. You?” I flirted a little, still people watching, scouting potential new clients.

  “It seems like my night might have just gotten a little better. Care to dance?” he asked as the beginnings of “Cupid Shuffle” began to flow through the speakers and a crowd started to form on the dance floor. I gulped down the rest of my Coke and joined everyone on the floor. We two-stepped and dropped it low for hours. I hadn’t had that much fun in a good long time.

  As the night came to an end, I passed out the last of my business cards. After saying my good-byes and snapping a few pictures of my favorite celebs, I gathered myself to make my way to my car. On the way out I rode the elevator down with Jill and Alicia. We chatted about the night we’d just had. Alicia Keys gave me a warm hug, and I stood out front chatting with Jill as we waited for the valet to bring our cars around.

  “I saw you kicking it with Sean. That’s a good catch, girl,” Jill joked with me.

  “Is he? Who is he, exactly?” I questioned seriously. He was kinda fly and had seemed interested.

  “He’s a stockbroker and handles finances for a ton of celebs. He’s been single for a while, too, and can be kind of shy. Don’t sleep on that number, girl,” she replied just as her car was pulling up. We embraced once more before she got in her car and left.

  I was still waiting for my car to come around. Just as I was starting to get impatient, I heard that smooth voice again, causing a smile to involuntarily spread across my face.

  “You didn’t leave a glass slipper behind, so I didn’t know how I would find you. I was so sad,” Sean joked as he stood next to me.

  “I see you were able to catch up.”

  “Yeah, I was hoping we could find a late-night breakfast spot where we can actually talk and not have to holler over the music.”

  “I don’t go out with strangers,” I joked with him as I prepared to get in my ri
de. It was the next car in line to be pulled to the door.

  “I’m not a stranger. You taught me how to Dougie. That makes us friends now.” He smiled as I walked around to the other side. “That’s my car behind yours. Are you hungry?”

  “Sure. Follow me,” I responded, giving in a little too easily. I mean, it was just breakfast. What harm could be done from sharing the most important meal of the day with a handsome new friend? Sean didn’t even wait for the valet to drive all the way up to the door. He ran and hopped in his car and followed me down to a greasy spoon not too far up the road. Things had been going great in my life this year, and I was hoping Sean might be the icing on the cake.

  Rocket Love

  You took me riding in your rocket, gave me a star, but at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back down to this cold, cold world....

  ~Stevie Wonder

  “Valencia, are you going to let me explain?” Sean asked and had the nerve to have an attitude.

  Men. I swear they don’t have the sense that God gave them.

  “There’s nothing to explain, Sean. I know what I saw, and it’s a done deal. You wanted skinny, you got it. Do you.”

  “I really wish you would let me get a word in edgewise,” he said, more frustrated than he’d been in the beginning.

  Like I give a flying rat’s ass.

  “And I really wish something had happened to me that caused me to have short-term memory loss. That way it would be like I never met you.”

  The phone line went quiet for a minute, and I allowed him the time to let my last statement sink in. Okay, so I’d gained weight. In a marriage you worked through the problems. You didn’t bring in more issues. Not that I would have felt any differently had he been cheating with another fat chick, but to have someone I knew in my damn bed was unacceptable. She’d broken bread in my house and everything. I knew there was something about her that had never really set well with me, and I came to find out it was because she had a thing for my husband. Well, my possible ex-husband. I didn’t know how we were going to get through this one.

  “Was that necessary?”

  “Was you sleeping with your assistant in our bed necessary? Wait. There wasn’t any sleeping going on, so I guess that doesn’t constitute y’all actually sleeping together.”

  “Valencia, seriously. I can’t deal with this today. When I get back from handling business, we’ll talk about this. You act like you didn’t push me out the door.”

  Now it was my turn to be stunned into silence. Did this man just blame me for his infidelity? What was the world coming to? True, he had been on my ass for a good minute about my weight steadily going up. The crazy shit was, I didn’t really pay it that much attention. I wore sweats most of the time, so when they got a little too tight, I just went out and got a bigger size, blaming the tight fit on dryer shrinkage. It was not like I was depressed or harboring some deep, dark childhood secret that had me ballooning out of control, like most folks that attached that stigma to their weight problems. I was on the go and didn’t always make the best food choices—simple as that.

  Okay, so who knew that three too many half gallons of Turkey Hill butter pecan and daily trips to Cold Stone Creamery during the summer would have me tipping the scale? Those mix-ins had me hooked! The life of a hairstylist was brutal, with long hours and trying to please the public. I’d admit I let myself go a little bit, but was it that serious? My life was on fast-forward, and we all ate on the go. Clients could get a little testy when they felt like you were taking a break and they had been sitting for a while.

  No one could have ever told me that Sean and I would be at this point. Ours had been like a whirlwind romance right off the pages of Harlequin. We sat in the diner for hours, and I felt like I was catching up with an old friend. We had so much in common, and he made me laugh. I hadn’t laughed in a long time, after swearing off men to start my path to independence. My ex-boyfriend was a dumb ass, and I wasn’t in a rush to relive that kind of life with anyone else.

  “So, how did you learn how to Dougie?” he asked me as we shared an ice cream sundae covered in hot fudge. We both had an undeniable sweet tooth and found that fact to be a plus.

  “I don’t know.” I blushed a little as I continued to eat. “Watching videos at the shop, I guess. I’ve always had a nice rhythm, though.”

  “Oh yeah, I can see that,” he responded, looking me up and down.

  This man was looking good and smelling even better. I had to pep talk myself into keeping my panties on and going straight home afterward.

  “So you saying you really know how to move?” he asked.

  “I’m saying I can hold my own,” I replied, flirting back.

  “Well, listen,” he began after checking the time on a nice Franck Muller wrist piece. This man had money and good taste. “It’s seven in the morning, and I’m already running behind the times. There’s a sexy little salsa spot in Jersey that is always jumping on Saturday nights. Can I get some of your time next weekend?”

  He was right about having to get a move on. I had a standing eight o’clock appointment that always showed up a half hour early, so I needed to be there on time. I had just enough time to jet home, shower and change, and make it the shop to get Ms. Jackson curled and back out the door. His offer sounded tempting, but of course, it would only be fitting to play a little hard to get since I gave in to breakfast so easily.

  “I’ll contact you this week, once I see what my schedule looks like. Is that cool?”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  Both of us gathered our stuff up, and I discreetly slipped my shoes back on, as I had come out of them during our meal. I sashayed in front of him, working the hell out of the silk wrap dress I was wearing. He was such the gentleman as he rushed to open the door for me. We slowly walked to my car, and I really didn’t want our time to end.

  “Okay, princess, get home safe and enjoy your Saturday. Don’t work too hard,” he said into my ear as we embraced tightly. Damn, it felt good being in his arms. It had been a minute since I’d been held like that, and I was a little reluctant to let go. As we stepped back, he planted the softest kiss in the world on my forehead, which almost had me laid out, but your girl held it together. I had to represent.

  We said our good-byes, and once I was securely in my car, he turned and got inside of his, and we were off. It was already quarter after seven by then, so I had to settle for just removing my makeup and throwing on some sweats so that I could hurry to the shop. I’d have my assistant take the rental car back later. I was smiling all the way to the shop, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. As I glanced at his business card on the dash, I reminded myself to stick it in my pocketbook before I forgot. I wanted to get to know Sean ... definitely.

  “Diva!” Terrell shouted out to me as I walked into the shop. I was still smiling and couldn’t wait to update them on my night. “Diva, do spill all the juicy details!”

  “Let me take care of Ms. Jackson, and I’ll tell you everything. Let her know that I’m ready.”

  I had gotten to the shop five minutes late, and Ms. Jackson, although a faithful client, was extra impatient and I needed to get her out the door. I didn’t know what caused her to be so ornery, and she wasn’t an old woman, by any means. I whipped her up in record time, and after entering her appointment for next Saturday morning in my book, I had time to sit and dish the dirt.

  Over breakfast I ran down the entire night to the crew, making sure to leave nothing out. Sean had me wondering, and I was hoping next Saturday would get here soon. I hadn’t really been out to enjoy myself in a minute with the shop picking up business the way it had, and my book almost doubling in a matter of months. I was thinking about adding a barber to the mix, and I wanted to redecorate, so every free moment I had was spent getting my shop where I needed it to be. A little “man-tainment” was well overdue!

  “He called you princess?” Terrell blushed as he sat, wide-eyed, listening
to my story. “Girl, I’m in love for you! What does he do for a living?”

  “Apparently, he’s someone to reckon with. All the people at the party said he was a good catch,” I replied as I pulled his card out to show them. It was like winning the golden ticket to get into the chocolate factory. Everyone was in awe.

  “Wait.” Terrell got up and took the card from my hand. “Are you telling me that you just had breakfast with Sean King, stockbroker to the stars?”

  “I guess so. At least, that was the word at the party. Why?”

  “Girl, do you know who he is?” Terrell asked, looking like I had just hit Powerball.

  “Well, the card says he’s a stockbroker, and everyone has confirmed it. Why are you so amped up about it?”

  Instead of responding, he went to the computer and quickly began to type something in Google. We all gathered around like it was story time, waiting for the screen to display the answers. I came to find out, Sean was a heavy hitter and was known all over the globe for helping people stay millionaires. He worked only with A-list celebs, and apparently even Oprah trusted him with her money. There was a little mess with a bad breakup he endured a few years back, but other than that, he seemed like a pretty clean-cut dude. I was very, very impressed.

  “Girl, seems like you might have hit the jackpot,” Terrell finally said as we backed away from the computer to tend to our clients.

  “Maybe, maybe not. We’re supposed to be hooking up on Saturday to go salsa dancing, so I guess we’ll see where it goes from there, if it goes anywhere at all. Hell, we just met last night,” I responded, more to bring myself down than to appease the crowd. Sean was nice, but he was on the go. I was more of a stationary kind of person, so I didn’t know how that would work out. It was nice that he was paid, but I had my own money, so his was a non-issue. I wasn’t putting all my eggs in one basket, and I really wasn’t even sure I was ready to start dating yet, so we would see.