Other People's Business. Pamela Yaye
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“You don’t have to. I’ll buy you one when we get to the club. You know what, Autumn? I’ll buy you as many as you want!”
Now look who’s trying to be cute, she thought, more than amused. They were out-and-out flirting and now the ball was in her court. Autumn was set to kick the game up a notch, but Shante beat her to it. “You know what my favorite Caribbean cocktail is, L.J.? Skinny-Dipping on a Nude Beach,” Shante purred. She laced her toned arms through his, and rubbed her chest across his forearm like it was butter and he was bread.
Autumn couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. Shante was throwing out more take-me-home-tonight signs than a baseball catcher and it was annoying. This is torture, she thought, taking a mouthful of her lukewarm cream soda. Could she be any more obvious? Autumn would sooner go line dancing at a country bar than go anywhere with Shante.
Impatient for a change of scenery, Omar drummed his fingers on the table. “So, what’s the verdict? Are we going or what? People are starting to file out of here.”
“I’m ready,” Shante winked at L.J, then licked her lips teasingly. “I’m always up for some action. Anytime, anyplace, anywhere.”
Nixing another eye roll, Autumn searched for a plausible explanation for why she couldn’t join the group. Spending the rest of the evening watching Shante put the moves on L.J. was not her idea of fun. She was eager to apologize to L.J. for Tyrell’s deplorable behavior, but not with Shante the man-eater in the mix. Drinks at the Calypso was definitely out of the question. “I’d love to hang out some more,” she lied, “but I’m beat. I’ve been fighting all night just to keep my eyes open. Sorry, guys. This girl is going home to bed.”
“Come on,” Yvette pleaded, throwing her arms around Autumn’s shoulders. “I can’t remember the last time we went to the Calypso and enjoyed some live reggae music. Stop acting like a little old lady and come on. You can catch up on sleep tomorrow.”
“I know, but it’s been a tiring week, Yvette. When I leave here, all I want to do is go home, light some candles, put on some Al Green and take a hot chamomile bath.”
“Oh, I get it,” Shante quipped, turning her eyes from L.J. to Autumn. “Planning a little sumthin’ sumthin’ back at your place for Tyrell? Speaking of your man, where is he? I thought I saw his fine ass around here somewhere.”
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
Shante raised her surgically perfected eyebrows midway up her forehead. “Since when? Y’all looked all lovey-dovey when I ran into you guys having dinner at the Mercury a few weeks ago. This is rather sudden, isn’t it, Autumn? How are you holding up, girl?”
Autumn wanted to reach across the table and yank that ridiculously long weave out of Shante’s head. “Well,” Autumn began, her eyes dipping to Shante’s overflowing cleavage, “you should know better than anyone how quickly things can change.”
Omar rubbed his hands together. “Hot damn! This is better than ringside tickets at the MGM Grand!”
Shante stared Autumn down. Then, to the surprise of everyone at the table, she burst into loud, raucous laughter. “I gather from your testy response that it wasn’t an amicable break-up. You poor, sad soul. I’ve never been dumped, but I can image how difficult it must be. No wonder you’re a mess.”
Autumn wanted to clock Shante into next week. Delving into the details of her split from Tyrell wasn’t an option, but she wasn’t about to let this she-devil knock her down, either. For the second time that night, someone was trying to humiliate her, but this time she wasn’t having it. Girding herself for a fight, she pressed her hands down on the table and tilted her body forward. “You listen here, you—”
Yvette projected her voice above Autumn’s, “I’m going to pass on that drink, too. The kids are with their grandmother and I’m sure Elsie’s ready to throttle them. I’m going to go rescue her and take my little darlings home.” She turned to her best friend. “Ready, Autumn?”
Autumn nodded.
Omar, who was making eyes at a voluptuous redhead standing alone by the punch bowl, mumbled something about being thirsty, and scurried off.
Shante beamed. Latching on to L.J.’s arm, she snuggled even closer to him. “Our first date! How romantic.”
L.J. got to his feet before Shante could go the extra mile and hop right onto his lap. “It’s too late for you ladies to be walking the streets alone. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to escort you to your cars.”
Yvette shared a look with Autumn. They were both impressed. Yvette smiled at him. “Thanks, L.J., that’s very thoughtful of you.”
Shante dug her clawlike fingernails into his forearm. “You don’t have to walk them out. Nothing’s going to happen to them on the estate. There are people everywhere! Besides, we should get going. The Calypso is the size of an airplane bathroom, so it doesn’t take much for it to fill up.”
L.J. didn’t want to be rude, but this buxom woman with the coarse mouth and aggressive personality was too much. And the last thing he wanted was Shante tagging along when reconnecting with Autumn was the only thing on his mind. He drew out his words nice and slow. “Shante, I’ll be right back. Wait here.”
Autumn didn’t know if she could make it outside without hobbling. Her feet were sore and painfully tender. She contemplated carrying her sandals, but canned the idea without giving it proper thought. She didn’t want to give Shante any more ammunition to embarrass her. Autumn put her heels back on, swiped her purse off the table, and without so much as a goodbye to Shante, headed for the exit.
“What are you going to do to keep yourself busy while you’re in D.C., L.J.?” Yvette asked as they emerged from the tent and into the starless night. She put her jacket on over her floral dress and zipped it up. The temperature had dropped considerably since they’d arrived at the estate hours earlier. A fierce wind was swaying the tent and rustling the oak trees shielding the expansive property.
“Hang out with Peter before Melissa lays down the law,” he answered. A deep chuckle ripped from his mouth when Yvette gave him a hard shove.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yvette’s tone was harsh, but she was smiling.
“My grandfather used to say, ‘wedlock is a padlock’ and he was wrong about most things, but he was right about how miserable marriage could be. I bet Melissa will be giving Peter a curfew before the ink has dried on their marriage license.”
Yvette’s shoulders shook as she laughed. “Come on, L.J., marriage isn’t that bad. When you find the right person, it can be the best thing in the world.”
L.J. took a peek over his shoulder. Autumn was limping a few feet behind them. She hadn’t said a word since her exchange with Shante, and he wanted to bring her into the conversation. “What do you think, Autumn?”
I think these shoes are cutting off my circulation. If I don’t get to my car soon, you guys will be picking me up off the pavement! “I’m with Yvette,” was all Autumn could manage. She wanted