All Up In My Business (26 page)

“Exactly! You weren’t thinking!” Toussaint took a couple steps and stopped. “Shyla, I’m going downstairs to have a drink. When I come back, I don’t want to see any evidence that you were here. And when I get back to Atlanta, I don’t
want to see any evidence that you’re still with the company. Do you understand?”

“Toussaint, I said I was sorry. And I mean it. I never would have come here if I’d known you had company. But what does this personal mistake have to do with my job?”

“You’re getting ready to have a lot of time on your hands to figure that out. I’ll be gone no more than ten minutes. Don’t let me return and find you here.”

50

A
lexis couldn’t stop shaking. After crying almost all the way to the airport, she’d blown her nose, pushed back her shoulders, and dared another tear to drop from her eye. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder,
How could things change so quickly?
One minute, she was living a dream, and now she was trying to claw her way out of a nightmare. Love, snatched away, just like that. Of its own volition, a scene began to play in her mind. Of another time, and another love suddenly gone.

Alexis hoisted the backpack onto her shoulder and then balanced Chinese takeout in one hand and her phone in the other, all while navigating the streets of midtown Manhattan. The week had been grueling, but finally she’d secured an internship at a design shop. But all that started next week. Right now, there was something else on her mind—home. She hadn’t been back in a year, and even with all the drama that came with St. Louis, she was ready to see family, especially her dad. Checking her phone once she reached the bus stop, she wasn’t surprised that she’d missed several calls. “Baby girl, it’s your daddy. Been trying to reach you, but I guess it’s hard to catch up with an up-and-coming design superstar. And, yes, you’re right. Those hang-ups was me. You know I don’t like to talk in
this thing, like a recorder. Okay, that’s it. Just call when you can. I love you, baby girl.”

Alexis smiled as she listened to her father’s message. She saved the message and continued to listen. There was a callback from an earlier interview saying they’d hired someone else, her soon-to-be ex-roommate saying she’d sold the refrigerator (yay, more cash), and then a call from her mom.

“Lexy, it’s me. Call right away. It’s an emergency. Call me.”

The way her mom sounded alarmed Alexis. Her heartbeat sped up, and her palms became clammy. She couldn’t punch in her mother’s number fast enough. “Mama, it’s me. Call me back. I’ve been working all day, just now checking messages. Call me. I’m worried. Okay, bye.”

Alexis continued listening to the messages, becoming more frightened with each passing moment. The second message: “Lexy, call me! Your daddy’s been rushed to the hospital.” Alexis had never heard her usually laid-back (translation,
inebriated)
mother so frantic.

The third message, an hour later, her mother’s weary voice: “Alexis, you need to call me. It’s your mom.”

Alexis was standing in line to board the bus when her phone rang. “Hello? Mom, what is it?” Alexis yelled.

“It’s your daddy, baby.”

“I got your messages. What’s wrong? Where’s Daddy?”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, baby. Your daddy’s dead.”

Alexis stood stunned, watching without really seeing the bus take off. Then she crumpled to the sidewalk, convinced in that moment that one could indeed die of a broken heart.

Shyla’s unexpected appearance had been like her father’s sudden death. Alexis’s father had been in great shape and only fifty-five years old. The drunk driver who’d hit his car head-on had been seventy-two—and lived. This is why she hadn’t wanted to open her heart up to Toussaint, or anybody else. Because she’d never wanted to feel this kind of hurt again.

Digging her nails into her arm, Alexis leaned forward. “Excuse me, how far are we from the airport?”

“We’ll be there in about ten minutes, ma’am.”

Alexis pulled out her BlackBerry and looked up flights on Southwest Airlines. There was a flight to Atlanta that left in two hours. She started to make the reservation, then stopped.
Atlanta is the last place I want to be right now
. Without a second thought, she hit speed dial.

“Hey, Kim.”

“Hey, Lexy! What’s up, girl?”

“Ha! I don’t have to ask what’s up with you.” Alexis decreased the volume on her phone as the wailing on the other end got louder. Then she realized how much she wanted to wail too.

“Yeah, little man here is pretty unhappy.”

“I can relate,” Alexis mumbled.

“Huh? I couldn’t hear you. Wait a minute, Lexy. This boy is taking his nap.” A pause, and then Kim returned. “Bruce would kill me if he knew I was still sneaking his son a bottle, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Now, what’s going on?”

“Oh, girl, nothing really.” It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now Alexis didn’t want to share her latest romantic woes. It seemed as if every time she talked to Kim about a man, it was about one she
used
to date.

“Something’s wrong. I can hear it in your voice. Talk to me.”

“Remember the man I told you about, the one for whom I broke the no-dating-clients rule?”

“Toussaint?”

“Oh, right, I told you his name.”

“You told me more than that, Lexy. You’re really feeling him. Oh, Lexy, don’t tell me …”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“What happened?”
Alexis gave Kim the condensed version of what transpired in LA.

“What did Toussaint say when you confronted him?”

“I didn’t.”

“What? Uh, hello, am I talking to Alexis St. Clair? Because the Alexis I know would hardly let a brothah off without getting cussed out at least!”

“Honestly, Kim, I was so shocked, my emotions so scrambled, all I wanted to do was get out of there, away from them.”

Kim was silent a moment, pondering what her dear friend had told her. “You need to at least find out for sure what happened,” she finally said.

“Isn’t it obvious? She was in our suite, Kim!”

“But who’s to say how she got there. Women like her will do anything to get the man they want. Trust me, I know.”

Alexis couldn’t argue. Kim would know. Her husband used to be a professional baseball player. Kim had dealt with several zealous females in the years she’d been married who’d given the words
bold
and
determined
new meaning.

“I don’t know your guy, and we haven’t talked much, but from the little you have told me, Alexis, he at least deserves a chance to be heard.”

Alexis sighed. “I guess you’re right, but I’m not ready to face him. Wait, Kim, hold on.” The unfamiliar number on call-waiting had an Atlanta area code. Alexis thought it could be a client. She clicked over. “Alexis St. Clair.”

“Alexis, it’s Zoe. Are you okay?”

Alexis’s back stiffened. “Did Toussaint ask you to call me?”

“No! Alexis, please don’t hang up. I’m in my room, alone. Toussaint has no idea I’m calling. But let me tell you, girl, he’s worried sick! Almost choked Drake because he thought Drake knew about Shyla!”

“Did you know about her?” Alexis remembered Kim on the other line. “Zoe, hang on.” She clicked over. “Kim, let me call you back.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You know there’s a guest room in Dallas with your name on it.”

“Thanks for the invite, sistah. I’ll keep it in mind.” Alexis’s friendly voice once again turned stern as she clicked back over. “Zoe, I need to ask you something. Just what do you know about Shyla and Toussaint?”

Zoe took a deep breath before answering. “Listen, Alexis. Toussaint’s my boss, indirectly, so I don’t want to get caught up in some mess. But I can tell you this: Shyla and Toussaint used to see each other, but I don’t think that’s still the case. I do know that she wanted to come on this trip and was furious when they brought me instead. I’ve never seen Toussaint as mad as he was earlier. And I’ll tell you something else—Shyla ran out of this hotel as if the devil were chasing her. Bags and all, she’s gone.”

“You saw her?”

“Uh-huh. Me and Drake were sitting at the bar, waiting for a table. I saw girlfriend flying through the lobby. And she looked none too happy. In fact, she looked scared as hell.”

They talked a few more minutes. Zoe assured Alexis that what happened at the Ritz would stay at the Ritz, and Alexis thanked Zoe for the call. Arriving at the airport, Alexis felt better getting out of the taxi than she had getting in. But she still wasn’t ready to go home, alone.

Alexis approached the ticket counter with a new thought in mind. She knew what she needed and where she needed to be. Her brothers may have been deadbeats and her stepfather a drunk and her mother their enabler. But they were all the family she had. And right now, that’s what she needed—family. Alexis made the reservation and headed toward her gate. She would be all right, as soon as she got to St. Louis.

51

C
hardonnay turned her head from side to side, still adjusting to her freshly done weave. “Are you sure it don’t look like too much hair?” She was sitting at Zoe’s dining room table, watching her friend try and act like a chef. “Ooh, olives in meat loaf? That sounds nasty!”

“Unh-unh. Bobby told me this little trick.”

“You seem to talk to him an awful lot. I think y’all screwing.”

“Some women can have men friends and not screw them, Char.”

“But what would be the point?”

“In-tee-ways … these,” she continued, holding up a gooey red blob, “are sun-dried tomatoes, soaked in olive oil. Both of these add what Bobby and Oliver call texture, those layers that make our food taste so good.”

“What, you’re going to conquer the marketing department and then go for chef? You trying to put Taste of Soul on lock!”

“No, I’m just trying to learn how to cook. One of these days, I’ll have a man up in here and don’t want to have to order pizza every night.”

“What’s his name … Bobby?” Chardonnay’s laugh was hollow and didn’t reach her eyes.

Zoe took a deep breath and ignored Chardonnay. She knew what her friend’s crass, hardened exterior was all about—trying to shield the hurt little girl who still lingered inside her. But Zoe was done preaching to someone who didn’t want to listen. It was her life. If Chardonnay wanted to end up alone and bitter, that was on her. “Like I told you when I came back from LA, “ she said, reaching for a pan from a bottom cabinet and dumping the meat loaf mixture into it. “It’s all about me right now. I’m motivated to better myself, get my degree and make a career with the Livingston Corporation. You might think about the company’s college program, Char. You can apply for one of their employee scholarships, where they help pay for any classes geared toward the food industry.”

Chardonnay stood abruptly. “You got some wine? I need to get my buzz on, shit.”

Zoe nodded toward the refrigerator. “You’re in there.” Chardonnay smiled as she pulled out a bottle of chilled white wine. “Damn, I’m cool just like this too. And taste even better.”

“Girl, please …”

The two friends enjoyed a companionable silence while Chardonnay opened the bottle, poured a large glass of wine, and leaned back on the counter. Zoe placed her hands on the meaty mixture and began sculpting it into a loaf. While she did so, she thought back to a week ago, when she was in LA and Shyla’s unexpected appearance had caused the feces to hit the fan. She still couldn’t believe how fast things changed: Shyla got fired, Drake was given the temporary title of marketing manager to go with that of business development, and Zoe was shifted into the marketing department as a junior manager, directly under Drake.

“I still can’t believe Shyla’s crazy ass,” Chardonnay said, as if reading Zoe’s mind. Zoe had kept her word to Alexis and not told anyone what happened. But as usual, Chardonnay had a way of finding out everything, and once prompted, Drake admitted
that he’d been the one who’d spilled the beans. “Bogarding her way into Toussaint’s room and ruining his new thing. But then again, that’s what he gets for being so fine.”

Instead of responding, Zoe placed the meat loaf in the oven, poured herself a glass of wine, and joined Chardonnay at the table. “What time is Ray-Ray’s father bringing the kids back?”

“I didn’t tell you? His new woman is trying to play wifey. They took the kids to Six Flags and are keeping them overnight. No rug rats for twenty-four hours!”

“And you’re hanging with your BFF instead of a hardhead. I feel all warm and fuzzy.”

“Don’t get it twisted, sistah. I’m just stopping through. Company’s coming over later.”

“Q?”

“Hell no! I found out why his ass went MIA—nucka had gonorrhea. Can you believe that shit?”

“I can’t believe he had it, and I can’t believe he told you!”

“He knew about it the night you met him, said he didn’t tell me because he was using protection. Then guilt started eating him up, and he told me to get checked. Luckily, I’m straight.”

“This feels like a warning to me, girl. You’d better be careful.”

“Girl, you don’t have to tell me twice. As much as I hated to, I dropped his ass. Back with this little tenderoni I met a while back. Looks like a younger version of T.I.”

“A younger version of the rapper? Who’s all of what, twenty-five?”

“T.I. is at least thirty years old. Young blood is twenty.”

“Damn! Kinda close to the cradle, don’t you think?”

Chardonnay shrugged, lighting a cigarette. “He’s five years older than I was when my stepfather took my cherry.”

Zoe had been shocked to learn that Chardonnay’s stepfather had raped her, and that Chardonnay’s mother called her
a liar when told what happened. This revelation helped Zoe understand some of her friend’s behavior—her negative outlook, her rampant marijuana smoking and multiple sex partners. It was a classic example of looking for love in all the wrong places and yet not seeing love when it stared her in the face. “I think you should call Bobby, tell him you want to go to a movie.”

“I’m done with him, Zoe. He’s getting too serious. The minute he deleted those pics from his cell phone, his days were numbered. And now his number’s up.” Chardonnay reached for her purse and stood. “See you later, chickie. Time to test out my new man.”