Who's That Lady? (9 page)

Shont
é laughed aloud, clapping her hands in approval. “Hold that thought!”

“There’s absolutely no guy,” Crystal said, her jaw tight.

“Trust me, that won’t be true for long,” said Shonté.

The excitement glowing in her friend’s eyes was irresistible. Her sister-girl. A reluctant smile teased Crystal’s mouth. She had to remember that Shonté thrived on drama and change, while Crystal liked routines. For Shonté, continuous change was the very nature of life. Maybe getting her involved in Crystal’s makeover would distract her from Trevor. This had already brought them closer together. Things were bound to work out.

Crystal endured the teasing and questions for the next few minutes as the other co-workers arrived and added their exclamations and questions.

Linda answered the phone, then hung up and called out to Crystal, “That was Dan. He’s got a meeting with some people from the hospital board and wants you to come and talk about personnel training.”

“Oh, my God! I can’t go looking like this!” Crystal exclaimed, feeling her skin go cold.

Shonté and Linda gave her blank stares. “Why not?”

“I look…I don’t look professional,” she said, tugging up on the neckline of the snug-fitting amber dress.

Both women grinned. “I don’t think anyone will complain,” said Linda.

Shont
é patted Crystal on the back. “Don’t worry. Your outfit is completely professional. It just plays up the woman in you. Now go use it!”

Crystal was still uncertain, but saw nothing she could do about it now. Gathering her notes and other pertinent material, she walked to the meeting room a few minutes early, hoping to get seated in a quiet corner. To her dismay, the meeting had apparently started earlier with other topics. Six pairs of eyes turned to her when she walked through the door.

Dan Jefferson stood up and started forward with a smile, but faltered when he got a good look at her. His gaze locked on her chest as if it might bite him if he turned away. In her heels, her chest was nearly level with his chin.

“Am I late?” she piped up through her tight throat muscles.

Dan gulped and lifted his gaze to her face, flushing scarlet.
He must be wondering if I’ve lost my freaking mind.
Crystal wasn’t sure he’d be wrong.

He tilted up the corners of his mouth in automatic politeness. “No, Crystal. Just in time.”

She managed a nod.

He faced the group around the table, four older white men and one woman with fluffy white hair. Crystal’s heart sank further. In this room of dark suits, her brilliant-colored one piece might as well be a bikini. All the men’s attention was riveted on her.

“Folks, this is Crystal Taylor, my new assistant manager of personnel training. Crystal has a solid background and some truly innovative ideas. I wanted to give you the opportunity to meet her yourself. Crystal, this is—”

She kept a smile glued in place as she shook each hand extended to her. At last, she got to sit down. Once she started rattling off her presentation, she was on familiar ground and her nerves unwound a fraction. She finished with the highlights of the program that her department was developing.

“And so,” she finished, “organizational culture theory is simply a point of view that focuses on the ways in which communication creates and sustains social units in a particular organization. We want to create a culture in our organization that will ensure the most growth for our employees and, ultimately, for Whittaker Memorial.”

She nodded to Dan to turn the presentation back over to him. He opened his mouth but one of the other men broke in. Mr. Garillo? Batrillo? He was the executive CFO, she remembered.

“Ms. Taylor. Could you clarify how the nurse orientation program fits into this culturalization plan?”

“Oh. Well, I—” Usually Dan took over at this point with details. She was used to fading into the background at presentation meetings. But he gestured for her to continue.

She answered the CFO’s question. Then the chubby little dark-haired man who represented some trust fund leaned forward with a smarmy grin and asked how she liked working at the hospital.

“Good, good,” he enthused at her dutiful expression of pleasure. “We’re always happy to see new faces, give young folks a chance. I’d like to stop by sometime to see how things are going.”

Crystal’s smile slipped.
He was flirting with her!
Crystal gulped and mumbled something incoherent.

The woman cleared her throat and asked her a question which Crystal answered automatically as her mind worked on a different channel.
These people were noticing her
. Because she looked different. Yeah, there was a sexual awareness to it, but the end result was that they
listened
to her. To Crystal Taylor.

Crystal remembered the looks she had gotten as she’d walked down the hall earlier today. Men had made a point of saying good morning and their eyes followed her while other women looked her over.

This crazy experience was starting to give her a rush of confidence. She felt self-assured in a way she hadn’t anticipated. No time to analyze it now, but it looked as if she could be sexy without sacrificing her business authority. Pushing her embarrassment to the back of her mind, she concentrated on work.

She told Shonté about the meeting at lunchtime in the cafeteria.

“He hit on you, Crystal? That’s awesome!”

Crystal felt her face warm. For some reason, a memory surfaced in her mind. In high school, Shonté had always been fixing her up with dates. There had been an unending supply of guys who were nice, but like her, not popular because they weren’t smart enough, or athletic enough, or cool enough.

“I wouldn’t call it hitting on me. I might have misinterpreted his actions. Maybe he was just being friendly.”

Shonté snorted. “
You
know. It might have been awhile since a guy hit on you, but you still have the instinct. No woman forgets that.” She laughed.

They both chewed on their sandwiches for a few moments.

“Don’t you ever just want to be bad?” Shonté stirred her iced tea with bright-eyed concentration.

“Of course not.”

Shonté looked at her. “That’s the difference between you and me. I like being bad.”

Crystal’s pulse jumped. “You mean you like testing the limits?”

“Maybe. Maybe I’m just not as nice as you.”

Crystal frowned. “I’m not nice. You’re much more likeable than me, Shonté.”

“Oh, yeah, people think I’m cute,” she said in a disgusted tone. “But they don’t take me seriously.”

“That’s your fault. You don’t act serious.”

“What’s the point?” She shrugged. “Nobody listens to me anyway.”

“Is that what this thing with Trevor is all about?”

Shonté threw down her napkin. “It always comes back to Trevor with you! Are you jealous or something?”

Crystal darted a quick glance around at the nearby table when she realized their voices were rising. No one was looking at them though.

She lowered her voice and leaned across the table toward Shonté. “Of course I’m not jealous. I’d never go out with a scumbag like him.”

Shonté’s cheeks flushed crimson under the vanilla of her skin. “Because you’re too good, right?” she sneered through stiff lips.

Once more Crystal was taken aback. “No. I just know it’s a dead end street and you’ll be hurt.”

“You can’t know that.”

Crystal snorted her skepticism.

“Then I’ll get what I deserve.”

Crystal started to say something, and then choked the words back. She lifted her hands wide. “I’m not going to argue with you. I know you’ll do the right thing.”

Shonté
stared at her for a few seconds. Then she propped her elbow on the table and cradled her chin in her palm. She smiled slyly. “Okay, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll do the right thing if you’ll do something naughty.”

“What are you talking about?” Crystal demanded in confusion. Shonté had made one of those lightning mood changes that kept Crystal off balance.

Shonté’s smile widened. Sort of like the Cheshire cat’s. “You know you want to. What about that little fling the other night? Wasn’t that a charge?”

Crystal was having difficulty catching her breath. “It—it was not.”

Shonté’s musical laugh rippled over her. “You’re a terrible liar, Crystal Taylor. And I’m going to see that you get that charge again.”

CHAPTER 8

Jalessa’s mother was supposed to come that evening to talk to her daughter. Shonté took off early to pick Jalessa up at school and Crystal arrived home to find them laughing together like old friends as they prepared a meal in the kitchen.

As Crystal came in, they broke off their conversation and Shonté bustled about with her back to Crystal.

“Can I help?” Crystal asked.

“We got it covered. Hurry up and change,” Shont
é advised. “Mrs. Hines and Key will be here in about half an hour.”

As she retreated, Crystal heard laughter echoing in the room behind her.

She had changed into jeans and a baseball style shirt by the time the others arrived. Mrs. Hines was tall and thin like her daughter. Raising three children alone after the sudden death of her minister husband had taken a toll. She had probably once been as pretty as Jalessa, but her face was now creased with permanent frown wrinkles.

Key arrived at the same time as Mrs. Hines. The stilted meeting between mother and daughter overshadowed whatever awkwardness Crystal might have experienced seeing Key again.

Crystal greeted Key with a fleeting smile, hoping her pounding heart wasn’t audible.

He stared at her with a perplexed wrinkle to his brows. “You did something to your hair?” he asked, twirling a finger near his own head.

“Yeah. Don’t you like it?” she asked in a casual voice.

“Well, it just doesn’t look like…you, Taylor.”

“Gee, thanks.” She ignored her feeling of disappointment. Of course she hadn’t changed her hair for his approval anyway. She was glad she was wearing her usual jeans and baggy shirt now.

“That’s the idea, Key,” broke in Shonté. “She wants to look different.”

Key’s dark-eyed focus speared her. She could have sworn he was trying to read her mind. “Do you?” he asked.

She shrugged, her face warm. “Why not? Everybody needs something new now and then. It’s only a new hairdo.”

Jalessa and her mother complimented her on the new look.

“Guys just don’t get it,” Shonté continued, punching her brother’s arm. “You’d wear nothing but sweats if you could get away with it.”

“Okay, okay,” Key said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll take it seriously.”

He put on an exaggerated pose of evaluation. One eyebrow raised, lips pursed, he stroked his chin as he walked slowly around Crystal, looking her up and down.

She was unreasonably conscious of her breasts as he eyed her. Although she was wearing some of her old clothes, she still had on The Bra. In the past, Crystal had become resolved to the fact that, as a large-busted woman, gravity was not her friend. But this bra made her look more like Pamela Anderson. Her double D’s were positively
perky
. And with Key staring, the nipples swelled tight against the lacy fabric.

Key drew in a deep breath. “Well. I pronounce you our beauty queen of the evening.”

Crystal flounced toward the kitchen. “Good. Now can we eat?”

Everyone laughed and her discomfort faded to a jumpy awareness. She hated this fluttering anxiety. Change was a good thing, but only up to a limit. She liked to be in control.

But control was elusive since Key’s gaze slid to her at odd moments as the evening went on. She’d wanted a change in her life, but things were slipping out of her control.

At dinner, they discussed Jalessa’s future. Mrs. Hines had struggled to find a way to quell her daughter’s rebellious issues and was actually grateful for Crystal’s suggestions. Jalessa agreed to go home with her mother, cool things off with Marcus for awhile, and work with the counselors at the teen shelter. After dinner, she collected her few belongings and left with her mother.

The three of them were left alone.

“What are you girls doing tonight?” asked Key.

Crystal was intensely aware of him across the room as she turned her back to rinse and stack dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’m going to the gym for a little while,” said Shonté.

Crystal whirled. “I’ll come with you.”

Shonté stared at her. Although they belonged to the same club, Crystal wasn’t usually so eager to go along.

“Well all right,” she said at last. “Is this all part of your grand makeover scheme?”

“What makeover scheme?” asked Key.

Crystal turned back to the sink. “There isn’t one. I’ll be finished in a minute, Shonté.”

“Something’s up.” Shonté was oblivious to Crystal’s irritation. “New hair, new clothes, working out. You should have seen the looks she was getting today at work.”

Crystal could have sworn Key’s eyes were boring holes into her back.

“Oh, really?” he drawled at last.

“Yeah, she got hit on a couple of times.”

A long silence.

“So how do you feel about that?” Key asked at last.

Crystal peeked at him over her shoulder. “Shonté’s exaggerating,” she muttered.

“I am not! You know it’s true. And you’ve changed since this weekend. I’m not too stupid to see what’s going on under my nose, you know.”

“I didn’t say that,” she retorted.

“I think she’s got a new guy,” Shonté chanted in a tattle-tale sing-song.

“Who?” demanded Key, his eyebrows lowering.

At the same time Crystal exclaimed, “I do not!”

Shonté’s head bobbed up and down. “Because it all started Saturday night.”

Crystal’s gaze slipped to Key, who relaxed at his sister’s words. His lips tilted in a smile that caressed Crystal’s body.

“New guy, huh? He treat you right?”

She glowered. “No.”

“He treated you bad?” inquired Shonté.

Crystal opened her mouth but nothing came out. She looked helplessly from one to the other as Shonté leaned on the counter and Key lounged in the doorway. Both watched her keenly. When a gleam of predatory animation peeked from beneath Key’s sleepy eyelids, Crystal shifted in an attempt to ease her flushed body. She drank in the sight of his muscle-corded arms folded across his chest and the dark unshaven shadow on jaw and chin. Her mouth watered.

“No,” she said, then choked. “I mean, there
isn’t
any guy!”

“What’d you do Saturday night?” prodded Shonté
.

“Yeah, Shortcake, what’d you do?” echoed Key, lips curved with mischief while his gaze licked her up and down.

She made a strangling sound and stalked past them. “None of your damn business! Are we going to the gym or not, Shonté?”

She heard brother and sister chortling together as she marched upstairs for her workout clothes.

* * *

Her cell phone rang that night as she got ready for bed.

“I haven’t forgotten, Shortcake.” His voice smoldered with intimacy.

Her heart flip-flopped. “Emerson, stop it. I told you I’m not interested.”

“Meet me alone and tell me that.”

She pressed a fist against her chest, suddenly needing more air. “Emerson, you know this won’t work.”

“I know you’re avoiding me. I think it’s because you’re not so sure it won’t work.”

She slid between the sheets of her bed, cradling the phone in the bend of her shoulder. “Emerson, I explained to you why it won’t work.”

“You’re not attracted to me?”

“It’s not that.”

“You are?” His voice throbbed with pleasure.

Her resolve tipped off-balance once more. “I never said you were unattractive, Emerson.”

“It wasn’t good for you?”

“Geez. Will you forget it? I was drunk and you were drunk.” With difficulty, she kept her voice low enough not to draw Shont
é’s attention. The walls were paper thin.

“So aren’t you at least curious about what it would be like when you’re sober?”

“No,” she snapped. “Because that wasn’t me.”

“Which you? The one before or after this makeover? Give me a clue, baby. Who’s that lady? My Shortcake or some femme fatale?”

“Stop.” Her sour note was a dismissal.

“I want to know more about this makeover,” he insisted.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“You’re not fixing yourself up for some man?”

“I’m doing it for myself, you egotistical ass!”

He chuckled softly. “I didn’t say I was the man.”

“Good night, Emerson,” she said in a firm voice.

“Sweet dreams, Shortcake.”

* * *

When she started ninth grade at Key’s school, she had realized she was in a whole new world, one in which Key Emerson was a star. He was a hotshot running back on the football team. The guys looked up to him and the girls adored him. Even the teachers liked him. At the beginning of the school year, she was confident that being Key’s girl would smooth her path through the mean world of high school.

But there were so many girls who made it plain they would like to replace her. Beautiful girls, bold girls, popular girls. They openly showed their amazement that an overweight, weird geek like Crystal was with a hunk like Keyandré Emerson. She became insecure and jealous. When she heard gossip about Key and some cheerleader while he was at a game, she went berserk and gave him the cold freeze when he met her at the school dance later. Key made a few attempts to start a conversation but when she remained chilly, he got up and circulated around the room, talking with his friends, laughing and eating. His apparent unconcern fueled her rage. Unable to stand it any longer, she stomped over to him and announced in a loud voice, “I’m ready to go.”

His friends gave a few nervous snickers, eyeing Key. He sighed dramatically, slammed his plastic cup on the table and growled, “Let’s go.”

Leaving her to trail behind him, he stalked across the room and out the door.

Once they were in the car, she lashed out in accusation and verbal abuse. He tried to proclaim his innocence and she called him some ugly names.

Key fired back at her. “I don’t need no jealous, nagging bitch holding me down.”

“Holding you down?” she screeched. “I’m not good enough for you? Not hot enough? Is that it?”

“Well, you sure aren’t my idea of a girlfriend.”

Her blood turned to ice. He had said it. The words lay between them like a sore that had burst open.

She turned her head to stare out the window before her stinging eyes spilled over with humiliating tears. “Then screw you, Key Emerson. I don’t need you!”

“I don’t need this crap either.”

“I hate you. You’re nothing but a block-headed, conceited, over-rated jock. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

“Fine,” he said through tight lips.

“Fine,” she retorted.

He jammed the car to a stop in front of her house. She jerked her door open and all but tumbled out on the street. “You asshole,” she spat and slammed the door.

With a screech of tires and roaring of the engine, Key left her standing on the side of the road.

They hadn’t spoken for most of the remaining school year. Only Shonté’s intervention got them to be friends again. They both agreed they were never going to let romance interfere with their friendship.

Crystal took a deep shaky breath. She had no desire to repeat that horrible freshman year of high school.

She was no longer a silly teenager dazzled by the magnificent Keyandré Emerson. They were both adults now. Surely they could relate on a more mature level. Was it possible to have a love affair? Excitement shivered in her womb at the thought of kissing him, being with him. Then again, what if it wasn’t that good when they were sober? What if he got tired of her and moved on in his usual pattern? The prospect left her unable to breathe, chilled with fear. Until now. Damn, why had she made love to Key?

* * *

Shonté popped into Crystal’s office at 4:45 the next day. “What are you doing after work?”

“Nothing.”

A huge grin spread across Shonté’s face. “Now you are. We’re going speed dating.”

Crystal’s head started to spin as it often did in conversations with Shonté. “What are you talking about?”

“Speed dating. There’s a social club having a speed dating meet downtown tonight. I got us in.”

“But what—”

“It will be a chance for you to meet some guys. It’s like a cocktail party with a checkout line.”

“I’m not going to that!”

“Why not?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Is it worse than meeting guys at clubs, wasting all night getting dressed, making small talk, then waiting for them to call? This way you can get, like, thirty first dates in one fell swoop and they’re prescreened for you. They have jobs and they’re looking for someone of the opposite sex.”

“Well, that’s a plus. Do they fill out an application or something?” Sarcasm laced Crystal’s tone.

“Exactly.”

Her agreement startled her. “I have to fill out an application?”

“I already filled one out for you.”

“You! How did you answer for me?”

“We’re like sisters, girl. I’ve known you half my life.”

True enough. But that didn’t ease Crystal’s anxiety. Shonté’s perspective on details was entirely different from hers.

“I’d feel weird. Like I’m desperate.”

“Not desperate. It’s fun. You only have to try it out. You have so much time to make up for, Cee!”

“Don’t I need to change?” She was dressed in black leather, a short jacket and straight-legged pants. Formerly she would never have worn black leather. But as usual, Shonté’s fashion sense was unerring.

“It’s perfect,” said Shonté. “Everybody will be in work clothes.”

Shonté had a reply for every argument she dredged up. In the end, Crystal let her friend push her through the revolving entry door of the hotel and then into the ballroom hired by the organizers. The muted buzz of a moderate-sized crowd swept them up into the activity. They registered at a reception table and picked up a name tag. Crystal felt like a job candidate. She peeked around the room. Other candidates, in various degrees of nervousness, milled around her. They came in all races, sizes, and types. Tables for two were set up all around the room. The women were to sit on one side and the men were to move down the rows at the signal of a bell.

As they went toward the seats, Crystal was startled when she saw Shonté wore a name tag also.