Too Close for Comfort

by La Jill Hunt

  “Good.” He smiled. “Would you consider having dinner with me?”

  “I’d love to have dinner with you, Jason.” She was so elated that she had to stop herself from grinning from ear to ear. Play it cool, Yaya. Don’t be pressed.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight then.” He smiled, looked down at his watch. “I have a meeting in about an hour, but I will call you later.”

  “I’ll talk to you then. Let me walk you out.”

  He took her by the hand, and she walked him back through the shop. All eyes were on them as they exited out the front door. She knew that she and Jason would be the topic of conversation when she returned.

  “So I guess I’ll see you Friday then?”

  He opened the door to his silver Range Rover. “You may see me before then.” He smiled. He leaned over and kissed her gently, and got in.

  She closed his door and walked back inside, making sure to put a sway into her hips, in case he was still looking.

  “I see someone is in a better mood,” Taryn said, as soon as she stepped through the door.

  “Shut up.” Yaya grinned. “You’d be in a bad mood too if you had a hair book shoot and a wedding to do this weekend and your brushes look like mine. Not to mention, I barely have any cremestick liners. Are you gonna loan me yours?”

  “You know better than that,” Taryn said with the quickness. “I got three faces to do myself on Saturday for a bachelor party.”

  “Then you should be a little more sympathetic to my situation.” Yaya noticed that there were empty sections of nail colors on the shelves. “Are we out of colors already?”

  “No, we have stock in the back that hasn’t been opened, I think.” Monya eyed Celeste, who was sitting in the same spot and looking at the same magazine that she was before Yaya went into her office.

  One thing Yaya had learned quickly was that as beneficial as Celeste was in the gossip department, she was as lazy in the work department. Yaya constantly had to tell her what to do, and if she wasn’t told to do it, it wasn’t getting done.

  “Celeste, you’ve gotta keep these shelves stocked. There shouldn’t be any empty spots up here,” Yaya told her.

  “I tried to explain that day before yesterday,” Taryn added.

  “Oh, my bad. I’ll go get it and restock the shelves.” She slowly rose out of her seat and trotted to the back, returning with two boxes of nail polish.

  “Go ahead and replace the bottles with just a little color in them as well,” Yaya advised her.

  “What do you want me to do with the old bottles?”

  “Just put them in a bag and put them on my desk. I’ll figure something out later.” Yaya watched as Celeste put the bottles on the shelves.

  “Why do you have to do faces for a bachelor party, Taryn?” one of the customers asked. “The groom needs make-up or something?”

  “No.” Taryn laughed, along with Monya and Yaya. “The entertainment does.”

  “You’re kidding,” the woman said. “The strippers?”

  “You better believe it,” Taryn told her. “They are some of Yaya’s and my best customers . . . isn’t that right?”

  “She’s right,” Yaya told her. “They really are. And I must admit, some of my most beautiful ones.”

  “I can’t believe you do make-up for strippers.” The lady frowned. “What? Do they swing by here on their way to the club?”

  Yaya could see the hurt in Monya’s eyes and answered, “Our clients are professionals who require professional treatment, and they are paying customers just like everyone else that walks through these doors. I wouldn’t be so quick to judge.”

  Little did the woman know, Monya, herself, used to be a dancer at one point. It wasn’t something she was proud of, but it wasn’t something she was ashamed of either. That was actually how the three of them met—Monya was a dancer in a rap video that both Yaya and Taryn worked on.

  “I’m just saying, I thought you all were high-class make-up artists, that’s all.”

  “We are,” Taryn told her. “As a matter of fact, we are the most sought-after image consultants in the business.”

  “Then why did you open a salon down here rather than in some glitzy upscale place?”

  “Because if we would’ve done that, we wouldn’t be able to service our class of clientele, such as yourself,” Monya said, as she finished the woman’s nails.

  “And what class is that?” The woman paid Monya.

  “The cheap class.” Monya smiled and held the door open for the woman to exit.

  “I guess she won’t be coming back.” Taryn laughed.

  “Probably not. But I have twelve other people waiting to get into that chair, and they tip a hell of a lot better than she does,” Monya replied. “I’m starving.”

  “Me too,” Yaya agreed. “Monya, you should go to Ochie’s and get us some food.”

  “I’m not going all the way down to Ochie’s. Besides, I have two more appointments. You should go.”

  Yaya looked at her like she was crazy. “You know I’m not going down there! T, what time is your next appointment?”

  “Yaya, just get into your car and go get the food. It’s only like fifteen minutes away,” Taryn told her.

  “You’re crazy, and I drove the Lex today too! Now, I could see if I drove the Honda.”

  “No, you’re the crazy one.”

  Taryn and Monya laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  They all looked up to see Fitzgerald coming through the door with a dolly, carrying a stack of boxes. He was dressed in the same brown uniform he had been wearing the first day she met him.

  “What’s up, Fitz?” Taryn greeted him.

  “About damn time!” Yaya snapped. “These boxes should’ve been here two days ago. What? Have you been riding around with them in your truck for a few days because you recognized the address?”

  “Hold the hell on. You need to check yourself—These boxes just got there this morning. I knew I was coming over here to get a line-up, so I grabbed them to deliver. I called myself doing you a favor because they weren’t scheduled to be put on a damn truck until late this evening, which meant you wouldn’t have gotten them until tomorrow sometime!”

  Fitzgerald stood in front of her.

  They stared at each other. Yaya was determined not to be intimidated by the intensity in his eyes.

  “Thanks, Fitz.” Taryn’s voice interrupted their staring contest.

  “It’s not a problem.” His eyes finally broke away from hers. He leaned to slide the boxes off the dolly.

  “Can you go ahead and take them to the storage room in the back for me?” Yaya asked.

  Fitz didn’t answer her. He held out the brown electric clipboard. “Sign here.”

  Yaya bit her tongue as she signed her name. She looked at the boxes and grabbed the top one and stormed to the storage area.

  A few moments later, Fitzgerald was right behind her with the remaining boxes on the dolly.

  “You could’ve brought all of those back here for me while you were trying to be funny.”

  “I ain’t do this for you, believe that. Taryn asked me to bring these back here, so I obliged. Where do they need to go?”

  “You can leave them there because I have to go through them and get what I need out. Do you have a blade?”

  “What?” He seemed offended by her question.

  “A knife, a blade . . . something I can use to open these with.” Yaya sighed.

  “Oh, yeah, right here.” He reached into his belt and removed a large cutter.

  “Thanks.” She took it from him.

  “Wow! I can’t believe you actually know how to use those words.”

  “What are you saying?” The sharp blade made a slick noise as she used it to open the first box, removing the invoice lying right inside and rummaging through white pieces of foam, to make sure all her items were there.

  “I’m saying that you are so demanding and sharp-tongued all the time that I di
dn’t know you could actually be appreciative about something.”

  “Are you saying I’m bitchy?” She reached for another box.

  “You said it, I didn’t.” He slid the box over to her so she could open it.

  “I don’t think I’m bitchy.”

  Once again, she opened the box and checked it.

  “What do you call it then?” He grabbed the blade from the shelf and began opening another box and passing her the inventory sheet.

  “I call it being stern.” She looked closely at the paper.

  “I think it’s a little more than stern.”

  They continued talking until all the boxes had been opened. “Where is the last box?”

  “This is it,” Fitz told her.

  “There has to be another box. I have missing items. And the last box says it’s five of six,” she said, becoming irritated.

  The missing box contained the items she knew she would need most this weekend. Frustration crept into her body.

  “I’m telling you, there were only five boxes for you. I double-checked myself.”

  “I have missing stuff. I need my product to work with. What the hell am I gonna do?”

  “When I get back to the—”

  “You know what—you’ve helped enough for the day, Fitz. Don’t even worry about it.”

  Once again, there was a pain in her stomach, and she felt hot. Yaya brushed past Fitz and walked into her office, closing the door. She sat down and laid her head on her desk.

  There was a small knock at the door.

  “Yeah.”

  The door opened, and Taryn stepped in. “Yaya, what’s wrong?”

  “I just don’t feel good, that’s all.” Yaya didn’t lift her head. She could feel her friend’s “cool hands” on her neck.

  “You don’t feel warm. What hurts?”

  “My stomach and my head,” Yaya mumbled.

  “It’s probably because you’re hungry.” Taryn sighed.

  “No, that’s not it. They didn’t ship all my product. I have that shoot for Larry Scott on Friday, and I have a whole wedding party to do on Saturday.”

  “Yaya, you know, whatever you need, if I got it, you got it. Don’t even stress about it. Look, we’ve got everything under control here at the salon. Why don’t you go home and relax for a while?”

  Yaya looked up at her best friend and saw the worry in her face. “I’m good, T. Really.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I am.” Yaya smiled at her.

  “You know you were wrong for dogging Fitz out like that, don’t you?”

  “I ain’t dog him out.”

  “From the way he stormed out of here, you did something to him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Something about your being a ungrateful, stern, and I ain’t even gonna say the other word he used.” Taryn laughed. “But put it this way—it begins with a b, and rhymes with rich.”

  Yaya smiled. She knew that she was rude to Fitz, but didn’t think she was that bad. “Hell, he should meet some of the models and artists I have to work with, and then maybe he’ll see I’m damn near a nun compared to them.”

  “Why do you act like that around him?” Taryn asked.

  Yaya really didn’t have an answer. It was something about Fitzgerald that made her uncomfortable. When he looked at her, it was as if he was trying to see everything inside her head or read her mind. And when she stared into his eyes, she felt as if she was being hypnotized.

  “I don’t act any different around him than I do anyone else. You sound crazy.” Yaya stood. “Come on, let’s go talk Monya into going to Ochie’s for us.”

  Chapter 16

  Paige walked up to the bar and greeted Marlon. “Have you been waiting long?”

  He turned and smiled at her. “Not long at all. You look nice,” he said, rising off the stool.

  She gave him a hug, and he tenderly kissed her on the forehead, something he had always done. She caught a whiff of his Hugo Boss cologne. For a fleeting moment, she closed her eyes, and it was like old times between them, but she stopped herself before she even got caught up in thinking about the past. Don’t forget why we’re here, girl. Remain focused—he’s still the same old triflin’ Marlon.

  “Thank you. You want to go ahead and get a table?”

  “Yeah, we can.” Marlon grinned.

  The hostess seated them at a table in the back of the restaurant, and they sat down. “You want a drink?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “So tell me, to what do I owe the honor of this meeting?—What’s up?” Marlon sat back.

  “Well, it’s sort of a celebration lunch.”

  “What are we celebrating?” He looked at her curiously. “Don’t tell me you’re about to get married or something. I know you didn’t bring me here to tell me some nonsense like that.”

  “No, that’s not it at all. And, if I was, at least that would show more respect than you have for me; I had to hear about your marriage from Camille. And let’s not talk about the fact that you were still trying to get back with me, when you up and got married.”

  “I don’t even wanna talk about that right now. Don’t try to change the subject.” He sighed.

  “You were the one that brought the subject of marriage up. I’m curious though. Why is it a mess?”

  “Don’t go there, Paige. Come on now, tell me what’s going on. What’s this supposed celebration for?”

  “Hold on. I’m about to tell you right now.” Paige spotted Tia walking through the door of the restaurant. “We are celebrating the refinance of our house!”

  Marlon looked as if he was about to throw up, when Tia walked up and said, “Hi there!”

  “Hey, girl, have a seat,” Paige told her. “I really appreciate you meeting us down here.”

  “It wasn’t a problem at all.” Tia smiled. “Hey, Marlon.”

  “What the hell is this about?”

  “Well, Tia was nice enough to meet us so we can sign the paperwork and get our checks at the same time. That way, it would be no delay on anyone’s part. Right, Tia?”

  “That’s right.” Tia placed a brown leather briefcase on the table and popped it open. She removed some stacks of paperwork and closed it back up. “I was able to get you guys a great rate, like I promised both of you.”

  “I knew you would, girl. Marlon, I can’t believe how much equity we had in that house.”

  He glared at her. “Paige, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Well, when the mortgage broker from the bank called to verify my information, I thought, why use him when my cousin works for the same company? So, I called Tia, and she took care of everything for us. Good thing the other guy called because you forgot to tell me about re-financing the house. I guess with your “mess” of a marriage and everything else going on, it slipped your mind. Nevertheless, she was able to get it done, and here we are at the celebration lunch.”

  “I just need for you to sign here and here, Paige.” Tia pointed to the papers and gave her a pen. Paige signed her name with flair and then passed the papers to Marlon.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me, Paige,” he said to her, his eyes full of anger.

  “I can’t believe a lot of things you’ve done to me, Marlon. That house was supposed to be an investment for both of us, and you try to go behind my back and steal from me? That’s like taking money from Myla. The only time we were going to borrow on that house was to pay for her education. And then you tried to do it behind my back?”

  “Paige, things are just hard for me right now. Kasey’s not working because she is there taking care of my mother.”

  “Your mother’s not sick, Marlon; she was fine the last time I saw her—she was drunk, but that’s always been the case. I don’t want to hear any of this. Hell, it’s been a rough time for me too. I had to start over myself, but I would never ever go behind your back and do what you tried to do to me.”

  Marlon l
ooked over at Tia for support, but found none.

  “Look, I’ve known both of you for a long time,” Tia said. “Marlon, you know going behind Paige’s back was dead wrong. She could actually have you arrested for fraud. You signed her name on a loan application. I don’t know what to say about that. If times were that hard, you should’ve gone to her and explained that you needed some cash and the only way you could see you could get it was to re-finance the house.”

  “She would’ve said no,” he said.

  “You don’t know that. Maybe she would’ve; maybe not. But at least you would have given her the respect of talking to her, before you made a big decision like that behind her back. So, now you have your money. It may only be half of what you thought you were gonna get, but that’s better than none. So, sign right here so I can give you both your checks and leave.”

  As Marlon scribbled his name, Tia reached inside the manilla folder, passing each of them a large, business-size check.

  Paige folded hers and put it in her purse without even looking at it; Marlon just slipped his into his pocket.

  “Thanks, Tia.” Paige leaned over and hugged her.

  “No problem. I’ll be praying for both of you, and I’m still here for both of you. Call me if you need anything,” she said, rising from the table.

  “I don’t believe this,” Marlon said, after she was gone.

  “Don’t start, Marlon.” Paige grabbed her purse and prepared to leave as well. “It’s over and done. You have over a hundred thousand dollars in your pocket, and the mortgage is even cheaper—you’ll get by.”

  “I don’t want to get by—I want to get out.”

  Paige shook her head and looked at him. “Then get out, Marlon. I don’t know why you got in it in the first place. Nobody made you to marry that woman.”

  “You don’t get it.” He shook his head.

  “Oh, I get it—I got it for seven years—You were the one who didn’t get it. And if you still don’t see what the problem is, then you deserve to stay there.”

  Paige reached into her purse and pulled out her shades, placing them on her face to hide the tears that had formed. She didn’t even know why she was crying. Marlon was no longer her problem. She had her money from the house, and that’s all that mattered.