All Up In My Business (9 page)

Toussaint had almost passed on the invitation. Ongoing developments at Taste had his schedule crammed full. On top of that, being temporarily housed at a one-bedroom condo in Buckhead while Alexis tore apart his living and dining room to create the masterpiece she’d shown him on paper was interrupting his groove.
No, brothah, Alexis is interrupting your groove
. Toussaint swiveled around to face the window and leaned back against his chair. It was true. While
her
plans to transform his home were proceeding nicely,
his
plan to tap her fabuluscious badonkadonk was way behind schedule.

To take his mind off his misery, Toussaint had finally accepted the Saturday night NAACP fund-raiser invitation from
a longtime family friend. He’d called Shyla and invited her along. She’d suggested they get together that night, Friday, and they did—had dinner, took in the latest Tyler Perry, and finished the evening with a night of great sex.

They’d arrived at the soiree fashionably late. Toussaint had been his usual suave self, and Shyla had looked radiant beside him. Then, while standing in the local NAACP president’s living room, he’d watched a stunning couple enter the room and cross over to speak to the host. Toussaint had immediately copped an attitude while an uncharacteristic and equally unjustified possessiveness of Alexis ran down his spine. Begrudgingly, he’d admitted that they looked good together. Jon wore a chocolate-brown tailored suit, a shade darker than his skin. Alexis’s cocktail dress was a perfect tan complement, with bulky wooden accessories that added to her exotic allure. When Toussaint’s and Alexis’s eyes met, she’d stabbed him in the heart with her dazzling smile and friendly wave. Jon had looked in his direction then and placed a protective arm around Alexis’s waist. Toussaint would have ignored them (as silly as that would have looked considering Alexis now spent more time in his home than he did and Jon was one of Malcolm’s best friends), but Mr. Gray, the host, had chosen that moment to wave them over. The conversation had been forced and stilted, and shortly after that, he and Shyla had left the party. He’d called Alexis the next day and gotten her voice mail.

Toussaint sighed, turned, and reached for a folder. He consciously focused on the page full of numbers, determined to put his mind back on work, where it belonged. He’d rather think about malls and menus than the uncomfortable truth overriding all other thought—that for the first time in Toussaint’s life, his cock was being blocked.

“Hey, brother, you got a minute?” Malcolm had opened
the door and stuck his head inside Toussaint’s office without Toussaint noticing it.

“Sure, uh, come on in,” Toussaint said, glad for the interruption. “I was just going over the numbers for the Los Angeles location.” He offered the folder to Malcolm. “They’re still pretty rough but you can get an idea—”

“This visit isn’t about business,” Malcolm said wearily, waving away the folder that Toussaint offered and sitting down heavily. “Have you talked to Mama today?”

“This morning. Why?”

“Did she mention anything to you?”

Toussaint’s brow furrowed. “About what?”

“Something serious, by the way she sounded. I just got off the phone with her. She wants me to stop by after work.”

“Why?”

Malcolm shrugged. “I don’t know. She said she’d explain everything when I came over.”

“Maybe I should call and ask if I need to come as well.”

“She didn’t mention you or Dad, which has me puzzled.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been summoned. And that’s how it felt.”

Toussaint leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk and resting his chin on his hands. “You don’t think this could be about their marriage, do you?”

Malcolm’s head shot up, his face a question mark. “Mama and Daddy are cool as always. At least, that’s how it looks to me.”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

Both men were silent a moment, remembering the shock waves that had reverberated through their social circle last year when a friend’s marriage of thirty-five years disintegrated after a love-child revelation.

“Well … no use speculating until we know for sure what’s up.” Toussaint looked into the distance. That’s what he’d been
doing since Saturday—speculating on Jon and Alexis and wondering if the player had already played
his
woman’s instrument. He frowned at the thought.

“Don’t let it worry you, man,” Malcolm said, misreading the reason for Toussaint’s serious expression. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything until I knew what she wanted.”

“What’s up with your boy Jon?”

The abrupt change of subject caught Malcolm off guard. “Jon Abernathy?”

“Who else?”

Malcolm casually reached for the folder Toussaint had earlier offered. “Still doing his thing, far as I know. I saw him the other night at the club.”

“The FGO? You went there?”

“I know it’s been a while. But, yes, I stopped by the other night on my way home. Surprised I didn’t see you. Jon was there. And so was your girl, Alexis.” Malcolm smiled, remembering how much he’d enjoyed hanging out with his friend. “Soon as her date went to the bathroom, Jon was on it.”

So they just met? At FGO, when Alexis was with yet another man?
Toussaint was totally baffled. How was it that she could go out with other brothahs and not him? “Well, knowing Jon—and Alexis—they’re probably already working on a design for his house.” Toussaint leaned back in his chair and tried to sound casual.” By the time he finds out she doesn’t date her clients, it will be too late.”

“Naw, I already told him you’d tried that route. He’s trying another one—the ‘let’s network’ tactic. The good old bait and switch.”

“Damn, man!” So much for being casual. “Why’d you tell him that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You aren’t tasting the cocoa puff. Besides, everybody knows that Shyla is keeping you satisfied, along with who knows how many others.”

Toussaint snorted. “Shyla.”

“Oh, so that’s not the case?”

“I told you about me and Shyla—that’s a casual thing.”

“I don’t know why. Shyla seems like a good woman, and our families know each other. We don’t know anything about Ms. St. Clair, and believe me, Candace Livingston would make it her mission to find out!”

“Mama doesn’t need to do a background check yet. I saw Alexis this past weekend. She was with Jon at the Grays’ party Saturday night. He mention anything to you about that?”

“Oh, so that’s what’s up.” Malcolm eyed his brother a moment. “Jon and I haven’t talked since last week when he invited Victoria and me to that same affair. I wanted to go, but once again
Miss Holy
had plans, something to do with that dat-gum church where she practically lives.”

“Victoria was always religious, but I’ve never known her to be a staunch churchaholic the way she seems now.”

“You don’t know the half.”

“Do I want to?”

“Naw, man. Sounds like your life is way more interesting than mine. Especially since it seems Alexis has your attention but for whatever reason you haven’t been able to get hers.”

“Please …”

“Naw, c’mon now. It’s not like you to beat around the bush when it comes to … well … the bush. You haven’t asked about Jon in a long time, and now I find out you saw the two of them together this past weekend. Hmmm.” Malcolm rubbed his chin. “Have we finally met our match?”

Toussaint’s office phone rang, and even though the caller ID told him it was Shyla, he was glad for the interruption. It wasn’t like a female to ever keep Toussaint out of the panties. He didn’t want Malcolm to know he was slipping. “One moment,” he said to Shyla when he picked up the receiver. And then to Malcolm, “Give me some feedback on those numbers.
We’ll have more concrete information in two weeks, but those are enough to get the conversation started.”

“Just don’t think I’m going to forget the other conversation we were having. The one about—”

“Yeah, later, Malcolm,” Toussaint quickly interrupted.

Malcolm smiled as he softly closed the door, then frowned when he remembered his next destination—his mama’s house.

14

“H
ey, Mama.” Malcolm walked into what he knew was his mother’s favorite room in the house besides the kitchen—the sunroom. It was a tropical paradise, filled with exotic plants, flowing fountains, a koi pond, and statutes bearing the same Eastern flavor as their landscaped backyard. Candace looked liked a queen, draped as she was across a gold velvet chaise. She wore a casual striped pantsuit made of soft, flowing fabric. She stood at Malcolm’s greeting and floated across the room, her arms outstretched.

“Hello, son,” she said, enveloping him in a big hug. “How was your day, baby? You look tired. Can I get you something to drink?”

“I don’t know, Mama. Am I going to need it?” Instead of answering, Candace called for the housekeeper, who returned in minutes with a spritzer for Candace, a spot of cognac for Malcolm, and a tray of veggies, crackers, and dip.

Malcolm watched the housekeeper leave the room and then took a sip of his cognac. “Okay, Mama, what is this all about?”

Candace took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to say this except straight out. Victoria is pregnant.”

Malcolm didn’t move, barely breathed. Surely he’d heard
incorrectly. His brow furrowed slightly as he took another of his signature drink—Rémy Martin XO.
Mama didn’t say what I think she said. There is no way in hell I heard Mama say—
“ Your wife is going to have another baby, son.”

“What the f—” Malcolm began, standing abruptly. “Sorry, Mama.”

“It’s all right, son. I know you’re upset—”

“Upset? You think this kind of news would simply
upset
me?” Malcolm threw back the rest of the cognac and slammed the tumbler down on the table. He began to pace. “That’s why she’s been tripping these last months, why she hasn’t wanted me anywhere near her in the bedroom. That … She’s gone and done it again, Mama. When she knows I don’t want any more kids!”

“She says it was an accident.”

“Well, maybe we can have another accident where she gets pushed down a flight of stairs.”

“Malcolm, don’t even joke like that.”

“Who says I’m joking? We had this conversation before the twins were born and then again afterward. No. More. Kids! Damn!”

“Listen to me, darling.” Candace walked over and stood before him. “Your wife knew you’d be angry, and you have every right to be. That’s why she wanted me to tell you. She honestly didn’t know what you’d do.” Candace shivered, remembering Malcolm’s comment. “I think you should stay here and speak with your father.”

“How far along is she?”

Candace hesitated. “Too far along to do what you’re thinking. It would be dangerous to have an abortion now, Malcolm. She’s almost four months.”

Almost four months
. “So now she can tell me, since it’s too late to do anything about it.” It all made sense now—why she’d stopped dressing around him a couple months ago, refused his advances, spent so much time in the guest room. “I
was a fool not to realize it,” Malcolm concluded. “I should have figured it out.”

“Baby, don’t beat yourself up. Victoria’s been big for a while now, never lost her stomach after the twins. Didn’t look like she was showing at the Fourth of July picnic, and I was around her quite a bit that day. Even Mama didn’t pick up on it, and you know that Marietta Livingston don’t miss much.” Candace had turned to gaze out the window as she talked. When Malcolm didn’t respond, she looked around, just in time to see him leaving the room. “Malcolm, wait, where are you going?” She hurried after him.
Oh, Lord, where is Adam?
“Malcolm!”

Malcolm heard his mother calling him as he headed for the front door, and any other time in his life he would have stopped to answer. But tonight, Candace had told him more than enough. She’d given him a reason to divorce his wife.

15

V
ictoria rose from the side of the bed where she’d been praying. She looked at her watch as she wiped her eyes.
Candace has probably told him by now
. She got ready to go check on the kids and then remembered she’d had the nanny take the twins to the movies and had let the two older children stay with friends. She was alone. The house was too quiet, no sounds to drown out her thoughts. Victoria sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the home’s central air. With four children and an equal amount of housing staff, moments of solitude were rare. Now she realized that was a good thing. Silence amplified her thoughts, and memories …

Looking around the room, Victoria smiled. The place was immaculate, flowers abounded, and a bottle of Malcolm’s favorite bubbly chilled on the buffet. She’d just finished lighting the last candle when the door opened.

“Wow,” Malcolm said as he entered. “What’s the occasion?”

“Hey, baby.” Victoria’s walk was seductive as she slinked toward her husband. She reached him and seared him with a kiss.

“Mmm, that is some greeting.” He kissed her again. “What happened? Did you win the lottery?”

“Ha! Something like that.”

“Seriously, baby, what did I miss? An anniversary, birthday … wait, where are the kids?”

“They’re with your parents.” Victoria reached up, loosened Malcolm’s tie, and undid his first two buttons. “Come sit down, relax. Let me pour you some bubbly.”

Malcolm walked to the couch. “So … we’re celebrating.”

“Uh-huh.” After filling their glasses, Victoria joined Malcolm on the couch. She sat close, the silk wrap she wore teasing his body. He loved silk. That’s why she’d worn it. “Remember what you said about the lottery?”

“We won?”

“No, but we are getting richer.”

Malcolm barely heard her. He’d turned his body toward her, fingering the silky fabric as he eased it off her shoulder. The material, her scent, the setting, the bubbly had quickly put him in the mood. Since having children, alone time was sacred. He reached for her breast, ready to make the most of it.