The Sweet Potato Queens' First Big-Ass Novel (18 page)

“I think you're entitled to have a little blowout,” Tammy said. She twirled a strand of hair around her fingers. “I'm jealous of you, Jill. The only thing missing from your life is a man, and I'm sure it's only a matter of time.”

“Actually, I met someone,” I said with a huge grin. “I didn't want to talk about it until now because I was afraid I'd jinx it. It's not like I've been very lucky in love in the past.”

“De-tails!” Tammy demanded.

“Where do I start? Ross is a businessman and looks like a matinee idol. He seems to be very wealthy. And—”

“Say no more! I'm green. I'm literally turning into a bell pepper over here.”

“He's a fantastic listener. Not to mention being funny, warm, and so very sexy.”

“You've already
done
it with him! I can tell!” Tammy said, bouncing around in her seat. “You're blushing so hard you look like you have scarlet fever. What letter grade would you give him, A? B? C?”

“The best grade of all—a capital O.”

“Oh?” Tammy said with a knowing smile.

“Oh, oh, oh.
If
you know what I mean.” I happily sank back into the booth. “I gotta tell you, Tammy, my nether regions have never been happier.”

“Where did ya meet him?”

“He came into the gym out of the blue and hired me as his trainer. Not that he needed me. He was already the proverbial brick one. He is so…Ohmigod,” I said, pointing at the door. “He's
here
.”

Tammy turned around for a quick peek. “Is he the guy in the Brooks Brothers shirt?”

I nodded and waved to Ross.

“Greek God alert!” Tammy screeched.

“Shush. Act normal.”

“Hello, ladies,” Ross said as he approached the table.

“Ross! What a nice surprise,” I said.

“I was in the area and I'd remembered you said you were eating here.” He kissed me on the cheek. “I hope I'm not intruding.”

“Absolutely not.” I patted the space beside me. I was tickled pink to show Ross off to Tammy, but also a wee bit disappointed he'd sought me out. Half the fun of having a wonderful new boyfriend was jabbering about him to your friends.

“This is Tammy,” I said. “Tammy, meet Ross.”

“It's a pleasure,” she said, showing off both dimples.

The three of us shot the breeze. I couldn't think straight because Ross's thigh was pressed up against mine. The heat from his touch seemed to pulse through my entire body.

“When did you move here?” Tammy asked.

“A couple of weeks ago,” Ross said. “I'm renting a condo at Governors Arms. I need to do some furniture shopping. It's practically bare.”

“I handle that property, but I don't remember you. You must have come in on my day off.” Tammy pointed to Ross's watch. “Oh wow, is that a Rolex Presidential?”

“Tammy,” I said through clenched teeth. Sometimes her fascination with chi-chi material goods was downright aggravating.

“It is,” Ross said.

“I've never seen one before,” Tammy said, her eyes glittering hungrily. “Where did you get it?”

Ross removed it from his wrist and handed it to her. “A jeweler on Fifth Avenue in New York. I bought it on a whim a couple of years back.”

“Gorgeous!” Tammy said, examining it from every angle. After a moment, a strange look crossed her face.

“Anything wrong?” Ross asked.

“Gosh no,” Tammy said quickly, handing him back the watch. “Will you excuse me a minute? I need to visit the ladies'.”

The second she left, Ross was all over me and I was panting like a collie into his ear. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the waitress approaching the table with a tray of fortune cookies.

“Stop,” I whispered. “The waitress.”

We parted slowly, like pulling gum from the bottom of a shoe.

“Need anything else?” the waitress asked.

“We're good, thank you,” Ross said, waving her off. As soon as she took off, Ross rushed me like a linebacker.

“Why don't you cancel your clients this afternoon?” he said.

“I have to earn a living,” I said, slithering out of his embrace.

“Let me come with you? I promise I'll be very quiet.”

I laughed. I'd never met a man so greedy for my company before.

“I think you'll survive without me for the next four hours or so.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Are you
sure
you're going back to work? Maybe you're meeting your other lover?”

“I have them scattered all over the city,” I said lightly. “Seriously, Ross. I have to go.”

He lightly squeezed my kneecap. “Are you dating anyone else?”

“Absolutely not,” I said, without a smidgen of coyness.

Ross let out a relieved sigh. “Good. I know we haven't talked about this, but I'd like us to have an exclusive relationship. What do you think?”

His eyes were a dizzying blue, and his succulent lips curved into a smile. Honestly, was there such a thing as a person being too good-looking?

“I can't imagine seeing anyone else but you.”

“That's the best news I've heard all week,” he said, locating my ear through a tangle of hair. “As soon as Tammy gets back, let's get out of here. I want to have a few private good-bye kisses in the car before you go back to work.”

“Just a few,” I said, holding up a finger in warning.

When he saw Tammy approach the table, he threw down a hundred-dollar bill. “It was really nice meeting you.”

“I enjoyed meeting you, Ross. Jill, please call me later. We need to finish catching up.”

“I'll call this evening,” I promised.

“Bye now,” Ross said, placing his hand on the small of my back and guiding me to the exit.

I
t's a miracle!” Tammy said over the phone. “Jill Conner lives and breathes. I was beginning to think you were a figment of my imagination.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, picking the dead leaves off a plant I'd neglected. “I know I've been out of touch, but it's not like you've been that easy to track down yourself lately.”

There were twenty messages on my machine when I got home, but I hadn't had time to listen to them yet.

“I've tried to call you at the gym, and I haven't been able to get you there, either.”

“I've been cutting back my hours a little.” I opened the refrigerator and was hit in the face by the stench of rot.

“I'm just glad I got you on the phone,” Tammy said. “There's a lot of stuff going on. Have you heard about Patsy?”

“No. What's up?”

“Jack is having an affair with his secretary.”

“SHIT! That's terrible. How's Patsy doing?”

“Me and Mary Bennett have been trying to comfort her, but she's a wreck. I suspect Mary Bennett isn't in the greatest shape herself.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Brian married the actress who plays his wife on that sitcom he stars in. It's been in all the papers.”

“Does she seem upset?”

“You know Mary Bennett. She pretends it doesn't bother her, but suddenly she's dating up a storm, just like she did when they first broke up.”

The Queens had never discovered the real reason behind their breakup, but we always suspected it wasn't Brian's fault.

“The main reason I called is Mary Bennett thinks it's high time for a Queen get-together. She's been nominated for an Emmy and wants to fly us all out to L.A. for the awards show in two weeks.”

“
All
the Queens?” I asked. “Did she ask Gerald?”

Gerald and Mary Bennett had continued to be on very shaky ground since their Parade Day blowup several years back.

“She asked Gerald, of course. But he said he was busy.”

I sighed. “What's he doing now? Last week, you know, he chained himself to the door of a pharmaceutical rep's car—protesting the marketing program for the company's HIV drugs. It took them all day to get him loose. He had a terrible sunburn—and an even worse case of diaper rash from sitting in a wet Depends all day. Apparently, his
Activism for Dummies
manual didn't mention that possibility in the ‘How to Stage a Successful Sit-in' section.”

After his emotional breakdown at Hal & Mal's, the Queens convinced Gerald to get an AIDS test. To everyone's relief, his results came back negative. Shortly afterward, he started attending regular meetings for P.A.B.A. (Persons Affected by AIDS) and at first, he seemed better. He learned the truth about HIV and he quit acting so weird about being touched. But soon, he became an activist, and he became more and more militant by the day. Though P.A.B.A. was a gentle support group, the loving, compassionate atmosphere somehow riled him up and our sweet, easygoing Gerald had turned into a wild-eyed zealot.

His every waking thought seemed devoted to thinking up all manner of social action groups, from the mild-mannered and well-meaning G.A.G. (Gay and Great), helping people come out as homosexual, to the well-meaning but nonetheless caustic-sounding group designed to introduce the uneducated straight population to their gay neighbors, I.A.M.G.A.Y. (Ignorant Assholes Meeting Gay American Youth) to the proposed dial-up service for the education of mainstream heterosexuals about HIV, C.H.I.A. (Crisis Hotline for Ignorant Assholes).

We tried to tell him he might have more luck recruiting members if he toned down the names a bit. Who wants a T-shirt with
IGNORANT ASSHOLES
on it?

“Oh, Lord, I hadn't heard about the car-door incident,” Tammy said. “But I swear, every time I talk to him, it seems like he's thought up a new and angrier group. I wonder if his friends in that P.A.B.A. group have any idea how furious he is, or if he ever even mentions his ‘social action group' ideas to them. But anyway, he just said he had some kind of family deal to go to and begged off—though I know he's just avoiding Mary Bennett. God, I wish they would patch things up.”

“Well, hell,” I said. “We all do, but I think they're both dealing with bigger stuff than we really know about, and nothing's gonna get better 'til it's all out in the open.”

“There's nothing we can do in the meantime, though, so you'll go with me to California, won't you?” Tammy pleaded.

“Of course I will,” I said. I felt a slight pang about leaving Ross behind, but what the hell, it was only for a couple of days. I'd survive, and our reunion would be worth the trip.

“What's been going on with you? I assume you've been hanging out with that Ross guy a lot.”

“We're inseparable,” I said happily. “Forgive me for being such a crummy friend lately.”

“Ross is definitely a looker.” She paused for moment. “There's something that's been bothering me since I saw you at the Chinese restaurant. I don't know if it's important, but—”

There was a knock at the door. “Hang on, Tammy. Someone's here.

“Ross?” I said, motioning him inside.

“I'm missing you,” he said sadly. I'd been gone only a few hours.

“Ross, I told you I needed to get some things done here and I just—”

“Who are you talking to?” he said, pointing at the phone in my hand.

“Tammy. She just called and…Hold on a minute. Tammy, Ross just got here and—”

“Let me have it,” Ross said, holding out his hand.

“Why? I just—”

When I didn't immediately surrender the phone, he took it out of my hand and said, “Hey there, Tammy. What's shaking? Listen, I hate to hustle you off the phone, but Jill and I are going to be late. I'm whisking her off to the Bahamas for a surprise getaway.”

“What?” I said, still stunned that Ross had snatched the phone from me.

“You take care, too, gorgeous. I'm sure Jill will tell you
all
about it when she gets back. Bye now.”

“The Bahamas? Ross, what are you—?”

He wagged a couple of plane tickets in my face. “Ready for a little R and R?”

“I can't go! I have clients to see. I'm not packed. There's a million things—”

“I did a little shopping and I have your bag packed and ready in the car. It's stuffed with all kinds of goodies.”

“I just—”

“Come on, baby. Live a little! What kind of person turns down a trip to the Bahamas?”

“It's so sudden,” I said, but I felt myself weakening. There was something very appealing about dropping everything and taking off to the tropics. Why was I resisting?

“All right,” I said with a smile. “I'll go.”

“Come on then,” Ross said, tugging on my arm.

“My bills!” I said, looking at the pile of mail on the table. “I'm behind.”

Ross scooped them up and tucked them under his arm. “I'll take care of 'em.”

“What? I can't let you pay those.”

“Why not?” Ross said with a laugh. “You think your piddling little rent and power bills will make the slightest dent in my bank account? I won't even notice.”

“That doesn't seem right to me. I've always—”

“You're a piece of work,” Ross said, shaking his finger and smiling indulgently. “You don't want a trip to the Bahamas. You balk when the man who loves you wants to help out a little with a few bills.”

“But I don't need help. I make enough money to—”

“I know that, baby,” he said, holding my face. “Just let me do something nice for you, okay?”

I have to say, it was nearly impossible for me to refuse him anything when he held my face and looked me in the eye. Every time his fingertips made contact with my skin, I turned into a quivering mound of Jill Jell-O.

“Okay. Just this once,” I said weakly.

 

Before I knew it, we were in first class heading toward the Bahamas. Ross, who drank a Scotch and water before takeoff, was snoozing softly beside me. His face was a collection of perfectly defined curves and peaks.

The stewardess fawned all over him and couldn't resist sneaking looks as she passed by. When she finally noticed me, her eyes widened with bewilderment. If she had a thought bubble over her head, it'd say, “What is Robert Redford doing with Big Foot?”

I flipped open my compact mirror. Well, maybe not Big Foot, but my collection of genes wasn't near as flawless as Ross's. Now that we were on the way, I'd finally begun to unwind. I had perked up at the thought of a little partying in the flashy Bahamian casinos and nightclubs and little seaside lolling. Since we met, Ross and I had been as isolated as two bears in a cave.

 

“To the docks,” Ross said to the cabdriver after we'd collected our luggage in the baggage area.

“Is our hotel on the water?” I asked, shading my eyes against the bright Bahamian sun. I'd forgotten to bring sunglasses, but imagined the hotel gift shop sold them.

“We're taking a boat to our final destination.”

“What?” I said, gazing out the window as we passed rows of pastel buildings thronged by palm trees. “Call me crazy, but isn't
this
the Bahamas?”

“This is Nassau, but they ought to call it Nas-ty, because it's touristy, crowded, and commercialized. We're going to a secluded out-island called Spanish Wells. We might go days without seeing another soul.”

My heart dropped at the word “secluded.”

“What's wrong, sweetie?” Ross asked, draping his well-muscled arm over my shoulders. “You look upset.”

“What is the deal, Ross? Are you ashamed of me or something? Why do we always have to be off by ourselves?”

“Jill. Baby.” He tightened his grip around me. “Course I'm not.”

“I know I'm no Heather Locklear.”

“You're breathtaking! Don't you ever look in the mirror? I thought you knew why we hardly go out in public.”

“Why?” I asked in a small voice.

“Because I don't want to share you with anyone.”

 

“Isn't this the most gorgeous sunset you've ever seen in your life?” Ross said. We were lounging on the porch of our villa, which had a panoramic view of the spectacular aquamarine Atlantic. Our room was mere footsteps from the ocean, separated by only a narrow strip of sugary white sand. Soon the sunset would give way to a sky studded with more stars than I'd ever seen in my entire life.

“And to think I was worried about missing
Wheel of Fortune,
” I said, taking a long draw on my piña colada.

I'd become completely taken in by the tranquillity of our little paradise. Sadly, real life was fixin' to rear its ugly head.

“I gotta write a column,” I said with a groan, rising to go inside. I wore a flowered sarong Ross had packed for me. “Don't leave me,” Ross said, tugging on the hem of my skirt. “It's so beautiful right now. Whatever they pay you for that column, I'll quadruple it.”

“You can't quadruple it, Mr. Money Bags,” I said, swatting him away. “I write the column for free.”

“You're kidding,” he said, frowning. “Why are you selling yourself short like that?” He encircled my waist with his arms, and pulled me onto his lap. “No column writing tonight.”

I tried to squirm away from him but he held fast. “Come on, Ross. I have a deadline. And I
like
writing it.”

“More than you like being with me?” he whispered in my ear.

“One thing doesn't have anything to do with the other.”

“This is our last night together here and you want to spend it writing a column you don't even get paid for. Can't you put it off until we get back?”

He looked so pitiful. I relented.

“All right,” I said. “I'll write it on the plane on the way home. I don't feel like doing it right now anyway.”

“You seem to have enjoyed relaxing in the sun,” he said, covering my hand with his.

“Hunny, I'm
the
queen of not-doing-jack-shit. The only thing I want to interrupt my lolling is meals, naps in the shade, and romps in the bedroom, and not necessarily in that order.”

He laughed. “Stick with me, baby, and you'll have plenty of opportunity for all those things.”

“You
do
seem to have a lot of free time,” I said with a grin. “I'm dying to know what kind of business allows for so much goofing off. I'd love to get in on the ground floor of that deal.”