Her Good Thing

by Vanessa Miller

  “Hello, Marshall, it’s been quite a while,” the woman said.

  Her voice was so sexy that all conversation stopped at his table as the other men turned and stared. Marshall was flattered that out of all the powerful men in the room, this chocolate goddess chose him. But she spoke his name with familiarity, and he honestly didn’t remember her.

  At his silence, she continued to speak. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

  “I’d like to know.” He turned back to the men at the table and said, “Would you all excuse me for a minute?” He stood up, placed his hand on the woman’s back and walked toward the lobby with her. “So, would you like to tell me where we met?”

  She sat down on the couch in the lobby, ran her hands through her long coal-black hair and waited for Marshall to sit down next to her. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

  He wished that he could tell this woman that he not only remembered their meeting, but he’d kept the memory of her close to his heart. But he got nothing when he looked into her face. He met beautiful women all the time. He shook his head in defeat.

  “Five years ago I met you at a conference just like this one. You took me out to dinner, whispered in my ear and then we went to your hotel room and you made love to me. I wouldn’t normally consider a one-night affair to be lovemaking, but I honestly thought we had connected in a special way.”

  Marshall wanted to rub his hands together in sweet anticipation. He was about to get his freak on. He was about to ask if she wanted to go to his hotel room now and share a little afternoon delight with him, but she interrupted his thoughts.

  “At least I thought we had a special connection. But after waiting by the phone for the call you promised to make, a call that never came, I realized that you don’t have a heart. And you had only been playing with mine.”

  “Now wait a minute. You’re trying to make me out to be the bad guy, but if you just met me that weekend and went to bed with me, then you knew what time it was,” he argued.

  Her voice rose. “You promised to call me.”

  Marshall shrugged. He couldn’t understand what the big deal was. Five years ago his motto had been “love ’em and leave ’em, no strings attached”. And he made sure every woman he got involved with understood that. If this woman hadn’t received the memo, he didn’t know what to tell her.

  Fire flared in her eyes as she stood up. “You’re so smug and confident. It probably doesn’t bother you at all that I dreamed about you that night.”

  He leaned back and stuck his chest out. “Thank you,” he said with a smile that said, oh yeah, I’m the man.

  She smacked him.

  That took the smile off his face, but he didn’t retaliate. He didn’t believe that a man should hit a woman under any circumstance, but Veronica and this woman right here were seriously trying his patience.

  “One day some woman is going to break your heart. She’s going to use you, and then discard you as if you’re nothing. After that, maybe you’ll finally be housebroken.” And with those lovely words she turned and strutted off.

  * * *

  The thing Danetta loved most about Houston was the subtropical weather. They were ten days into February and it was sixty-one degrees. As Danetta got out of the car at Adorable Hair and Nails, she left her jacket in the car and allowed the cool breeze to move her forward. Ryla, Marlene and a few other workers in the salon were standing outside holding balloons in their hands. As she approached, they each let go of the strings, and the balloons floated heavenward. “What’s up with the balloons?”

  “Girl, we are celebrating the end of that tired ponytail you wear almost every single day,” Ryla said.

  “Whatever,” Danetta said, as she walked into the salon. “I like my ponytail. It’s quick and easy.”

  “And unattractive,” Marlene countered.

  “Did I come here to be insulted or to get my hair done?” Danetta asked.

  “Girl, just sit yourself in Marlene’s chair so we can tell you how this is going to go,” Ryla said, as she grabbed Danetta’s arm and guided her to the shop chair.

  Danetta sat down. “Now what do you have up your sleeve?”

  Ryla grinned as she looked at Marlene and then back to Danetta. “Here’s the deal. I’m paying, so I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

  Danetta shook her head. “I can’t let you pay for my hairdo. I’ve got this.”

  “Oh no. I know how cheap you are—”

  Danetta held up a hand. “Frugal...not cheap.”

  “Okay, Ms. Frugal. I’m paying because you are getting a cut and color. You’re also getting your nails done, a pedicure and that bush you call eyebrows waxed. I’m going to drop Jaylen off at my mom’s, and then I’ll be back, so don’t try to chicken out of anything,” Ryla said, as she pulled the keys out of her purse and headed toward the door.

  “Ryla already picked the style and color that she thought would look best on you. So, the question is, do you trust your girl or not?” Marlene asked.

  Danetta looked at her reflection in the salon’s mirror. She was tired of her ponytail also, but just didn’t know what hairstyle she wanted. “Since I have no idea what hairstyle will look best on me, I guess I’ll have to trust her.”

  “Yea!” Marlene clapped her hands like a giddy schoolgirl. “Let’s get this party started.” She pulled the rubber band from around Danetta’s ponytail and threw it in the trash. She then put a cape around Danetta and a plastic bag with holes in it on her head.

  As Marlene began pulling strands of Danetta’s hair through the holes in the plastic bag, Danetta scrunched up her face. “That doesn’t feel so good. Why do you have to pull my hair through those tiny holes?”

  “Girl, haven’t you ever had highlights before?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Danetta, Danetta, Danetta, what am I going to do with you?” Marlene asked while shaking her head. Then she began to explain, “I’m going to put this golden-bronze color in your hair. Since your hair is a dark brown, this color is going to lighten your hair up quite a bit, so we’re not going to do a full head of color. I’m pulling the strands of hair through the holes, because I’m only going to color the hair on the outside of the bag. All the rest of your hair will mostly remain the same color. But the colored strands will highlight your hair in a dramatic way.”

  It took all the strength Danetta had to stay glued to her seat. She wasn’t sure if she could handle anything dramatic. And what would her clients say when she showed up at work with golden-bronze highlights?

  “You look nervous, hon. What’s up? Speak now, before it’s too late,” Marlene warned.

  “This just seems like such a drastic change all at once,” Danetta admitted.

  “From what Ryla told me, it sounded as if you were looking for a change. Is that right?”

  No, that’s not right, Danetta wanted to scream. She wanted a man, not a new hairdo. But maybe Ryla didn’t think she’d be able to get a man unless she made a drastic change to her appearance. Plus, she did ask for Ryla’s help. She leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

  For the next few hours, Danetta moved from one salon chair to the next, getting color, a cut, a French manicure, a pedicure and her eyebrows waxed. When Ryla walked back into the salon, she did a double take as she stared at the vision in front of her.

  “Danetta, girl, you are smokin’ hot.”

  Danetta touched her hair as she glanced in the mirror, then she moved her head from side to side. The cut was an improvement from the ponytail she’d been sporting. It brought out the intensity in her eyes. Danetta didn’t just look like another pretty face, the style was boardroom savvy and she liked that. But she wondered if the cut was too much about business and not enough about her as a woman. “You don’t think she cut off too much o
f my hair?”

  “The layered look fits you. And your hair is not short at all. It’s shoulder length.”

  “Yeah, but my hair used to flow down my back. I thought men liked women with long hair?”

  Ryla received the bill and then paid the receptionist. She turned back to Danetta and said, “Trust me, you still have enough hair to make any man happy.”

  “What about the highlights? Do you think it’s too much? Should I get it toned down a bit?” Danetta peered in the mirror. She didn’t know if she could get use to the shimmery color that caught the sunlight every time she moved her head.

  “Don’t change a thing,” Ryla argued. “You’ll see just how much this new ’do suits you, once we get everything else in place. Now come on, we’ve got some shopping to do.”

  “Shopping? Oh no, Ryla. You know I hate shopping,” Danetta complained. “I wanted you to come over to my house and help me mix and match some outfits in my closet.”

  “Girl, we are going to throw some of those tired, old, granny clothes in the trash. Now, come on. You can ride with me, and then I’ll bring you back to get your car when we’re done.”

  Danetta hesitated. “I’m not so sure I need to go this far.”

  “Look, you’ve got the dinner cruise coming up. And take it from me, girlfriend, upgrading your wardrobe will be like bringing the honey to the bee,” Ryla said while snapping her fingers. “And anyway, the dinner cruise is an old-school event, and I know you don’t own anything from the ’70s or ’80s.”

  “I’m going to wear this flower-child dress I wore to a costume party a few years ago.”

  “Look, Danetta,” Ryla said firmly. “Every one of your clients purchased an extra ticket to give to a business associate of their choice. Simply put, your future husband could be attending this event. And since I’m the party planner this year, I refuse to let you attend this event in a flower child’s dress.”

  Ryla worked full-time at an energy company as director of the marketing department. However, a year ago she started a party planning business on the side. So, Danetta decided to help her friend out by providing her with some business. For the past four years, she and Marshall had been hosting a Valentine’s Day event for their clients. The event also served as an annual fundraiser, from which the proceeds went to the local charity of Danetta’s choice. This year, Destiny Home for Girls would be receiving the funds collected.

  Every year, Marshall arrived with a beautiful goddess on his arm. Since Danetta hadn’t been asked on a Valentine’s date in years, she normally brought Surry or Ryla so that they could get their networking on. The fact that this event would be held the weekend following Valentine’s Day, eased a bit of the I-need-a-special-occasion-date pressure. However, watching Marshall play with his latest black Barbie doll always made Danetta feel frumpy and dumpy. But Danetta was throwing frumpy off a cliff this year. She couldn’t wait to see Marshall’s reaction to her new look. “All right, let’s go,” she said as she got in Ryla’s car.

  Chapter 4

  What was wrong with women these days? Marshall wondered as he stretched out on the king-size bed in his hotel room, completely alone. He had high hopes of meeting up with a fine sistah and spending about twelve hours of quality time with her. But he’d been knocked off his game and didn’t have the energy to pursue another woman.

  First Veronica busts up the ceramic lamp Danetta bought him for Christmas, then the crazy woman keyed his car just because he was okay with her breaking up with him. What was he supposed to do, cry over her...call and beg her for another chance?

  Then this woman whose name he couldn’t even remember hauls off and slaps him just because he hadn’t bothered to call her after they’d spent one night together. Who does that? I mean, come on. If a woman slips up and sleeps with a man the first day they meet, does that woman really believe that any man in his right mind is about to rush home and call her? Marshall considered himself to be a polite man whose mama raised him right. So, he was sure that he thanked ol’ what’s-her-name before she left his hotel room. “Abalit, balit, that’s all folks.”

  He was no different from any other full-grown, unattached man. He liked the ladies but he liked to keep things free and loose—he wasn’t a puppet, so he made sure that no strings were attached to him. As long as everyone was having a good time all was fine. What he couldn’t deal with was the keying cars and slapping-brothers-in-public type of women.

  He put his hands behind his head as he mused that maybe he’d slipped up on his application process with those two, or maybe the game was just growing old. After all, he was thirty-two years old and his mother had started throwing hints about grandchildren. Maybe it was time for him to settle down. He just needed to find one woman and make it happen. In truth, Marshall had dated hundreds of women, but not one of them came to mind when he thought of the woman he’d like to have a few babies with.

  * * *

  Danetta and Ryla spent the rest of the day looking for clothes that didn’t make her look, as Ryla said, like “a tired old granny.”

  “If you want a man to be interested, you need to let him see what you’re working with,” Ryla said as she put back a dress that Danetta thought was perfect.

  “What’s wrong with that dress?” She pointed at the shapeless cloth hanging on the hanger.

  “It’s too long and it billows out at the waistline,” Ryla criticized. “Need I say more?”

  As if a lightbulb finally came on, Danetta smiled, saying, “No one would be able to see my curves in that dress.”

  “Exactly. Now this little number is designed get a man’s attention in a hurry.” Ryla lifted a black nightclub dress off the rack. The fabric was stretchy and designed to be formfitting so it would show off every curve. The quarter-length sleeves and one side of the hem had been slashed so many times, the dress could have been made by Freddy Krueger.

  Danetta’s eyes widened as she said, “Ryla Evans, if you don’t put that dress back, I’m ending this shopping trip right now.”

  Laughing, Ryla put the dress back on the rack. “Hey, I was just trying to see how desperate for a man you really are.”

  “Would you wear something like that?”

  “Not in this life,” Ryla admitted.

  “Then why on earth would you think I would go anywhere in a dress like that? It’s way too revealing.”

  “You’re the one looking for a man,” Ryla joked. “The last thing on my mind is some knuckleheaded man, so I don’t have to worry about dressing to impress.”

  “Ryla, everything you wear is stylish. And whether you know it or not, you attract men to you all day long. Why do you think I asked for your help?”

  Ryla put her finger to her chin as she took a moment to think. “Okay, then I’m going to take you to Galleria Mall. My mom and I shop there every time she comes to Houston. You’ll love it.”

  They drove over to Galleria Mall and Danetta got excited when she found a two hundred and fifty dollar Donna Karan dress that had been marked down to fifty dollars. The dress enhanced her curves, but did not make her look like a stripper. She rarely found deals at the Galleria, so she snatched that dress up real quick. Then they went to Stein Mart, and Danetta found several other outfits. When she was tired of shopping for clothes, Ryla told her that they needed to make one more stop.

  As they stood in front of the cosmetic counter, Danetta thought about changing her mind. She thought that if she needed to change that much just to get a man, then maybe she was okay being alone for the rest of her life. Just then a woman pushing a baby stroller walked past her. Danetta looked inside the stroller and watched the baby cooing as she lifted her chubby little legs in the air. That was all it took. She felt like she didn’t have very many baby-making years left, so she wasn’t going to waste her time complaining about a little makeup if that’s what it took to attract
her husband.

  Danetta’s face held no blemishes whatsoever, which was one of the reasons that she’d never bothered with foundation. So she asked the makeup artist, “Do I really need foundation if I don’t have any freckles or blemishes to cover up?”

  The woman smiled. “Foundation serves as a base for all the other makeup that we will put on your face, it helps to smooth everything out. And you are correct that you don’t need a heavy foundation. But we have a light coverage that will work for your face. Would you like to try it?”

  “Yes, she would,” Ryla responded before Danetta could answer. “The foundation she needs should have a natural finish with golden/olive undertones.” Ryla spoke as if she’d worked as a makeup artist herself.

  The correct shade of foundation was applied to Danetta’s honey-toned skin. Then came the eye shadow, blush and a pinky-brown lip gloss. All the things that Danetta felt were so unnecessary for daily living. However, when the makeup was applied, and Danetta held the mirror and looked at her reflection, she was stunned at the vision she saw. “I-I look beautiful!”

  “If Marshall Windham could see you now, he’d turn in his playa card and become a do-right man,” Ryla said, with a knowing glint in her eye.

  “Don’t kid yourself. Marshall has seen me dressed for awards banquets and business dinners. The man wants nothing from me but friendship.”

  “He hasn’t seen you like this, Danetta. No one has.” Ryla took her digital camera out of her purse and snapped a few shots. “Don’t get the big head, but girl, you clean up real good.”

  Danetta felt herself blush. “Thanks, Ryla. I never had on this much makeup before, and I never imagined that a new hairdo and some makeup could make this much of a difference.”