Carl Weber Presents Full Figured 6: Plus Size Divas

by Electa Rome Parks

  “No, you weren’t bad. And this was very nice of you.”

  “I know. Five star, it ain’t. But I figure you’re used to five star on the regular, so I wanted to come at you differently. Show you a little of me in my downtime.”

  “Switching up the game?” I queried.

  “Nah. No game. Just being me.”

  “Uh huh. But what if me being ‘me’ were flat broke and unemployed? How would you feel about that?” I posed.

  “Cute,” he said as he plopped his napkin on his finished plate and placed his elbows on the table. “I ain’t ask for a balance sheet, woman. And I’m my own man. It’s just lunch, Artemis. Loosen up.”

  “You’re right,” I admitted. “I’m sorry. Just a lot of stress in my life right now has me guarded.” Well, that and two failed relationships that ended in the most final of ways.

  “Which is why you came to Vegas, I assume. So live now, stress later,” he offered as he placed his hand atop mine on the table. “Will you promise to give it a try?”

  “Okay. I promise.” I sighed, fighting back a tear forming in the corner of my eye. “Ooo. This sauce is spicy,” I offered to hide my feelings as I wiped it away.

  “It’s got a little bit of a bite . . . if you’re not prepared for it,” he said in a way where I wasn’t sure he was referring to barbecue sauce.

  “So, you’re a rider?” I asked, nodding toward the five grizzled black bikers in their leather vests carrying on boisterously among themselves at the picnic table in the far corner.

  “Yeah. Them’s my boys over there,” he said proudly. To prove his point, he hoisted his Corona in the air to acknowledge them. All five yelled back at him with an unexpected name not his own. “Although I’m not an official member of their club, I’m affiliated and ride with ’em sometimes. They see I have my work clothes on . . . and a sexy woman with me, so they’re keeping their distance.”

  “Who’s ‘Weasel’?” I asked, changing the subject so as to not blush over his compliment.

  “Uh . . . that’s my handle. Just a name they gave me.”

  “Should I ask?” I followed up with a smirk.

  “Uh . . . no,” he said, lowering his head in embarrassment. “And I think it’s time to go.”

  Although going there took the same amount of time as coming back, I wanted the return trip to last longer. Of course, I didn’t come out here looking for this, but this informal lunch felt more like a date than dinner from last night. And, knowing how things normally went in my life, I hadn’t been honest with either of them. If I had, both would’ve turned into disasters.

  Maybe that was a solution of a sort. To only share so much with each.

  “Well, here we are,” Lowell said as we arrived back on the Strip and at Hotel Aquos. He got a text on his phone that drew his attention. “Shit,” he muttered as he put the Tahoe in park and read the screen.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  “Got a fare to pick up from the airport,” he replied.

  “I thought you were off today,” I reminded him.

  “I am. But one of my drivers just called in. No real ‘time off’ when you’re your own boss. You know how it is.”

  “Yeah. I do,” I mumbled as I looked away at my reflection in the window.

  Lowell exited and went around to get my door for me. At the rear of the Tahoe, I could hear the vroom-vroom of a car as it pulled up behind us. Somebody high on the floss scale no doubt.

  “Here you go, Ms. Clay,” Lowell said, just as courteous as when he first delivered me here. If I hadn’t been riding in the front, no one would even suspect we’d just been to lunch together. As he took my hand, I gripped his a little tighter than usual. Sensing it too, Lowell smiled.

  Those eyes, those eyes. Lawd, those eyes.

  “There you are, bitch!” an all-too-familiar voice shrieked before any awkward words could be exchanged between Lowell and me. I didn’t even bother hiding my eye-roll as I shuddered. “Artemis!” Ladonna screamed as she came running toward me in a bright yellow dress that clung to her toned shape.

  Lowell stole a glance at her then turned back to me, his eyes saying he was at a loss for words. I shared his wide-eyed gaze as I realized it was Ladonna, in fact, in the sports car behind us.

  “You, bitch! I thought you were just hiding out in your room when you didn’t answer,” Ladonna exclaimed all out of breath like she’d run a mile. Needless drama. “I wanted you to come car shopping with me,” she said as she swung the massive orange purse around on her arm to allow me a better view of her toy. Whatever it was, it was black, shiny, and low to the ground.

  “It’s—” I went to say as I admired it.

  “It’s a Lotus!” she bellowed in my ear, cutting me off.

  “Nice,” Lowell said at the black curvy car. “Exige, right?” he asked. Of course Mr. Big, Bad Biker would know what it was.

  “Yes! Bravo!” she responded, actually clapping like Lowell deserved a cookie.

  “Ladonna, this is Lowell,” I said, no longer delaying the introductions.

  “Hello, Lowell the driver!” she said as she inappropriately hugged him then disengaged as if he were just that, my driver. Again, that damn purse of hers flew recklessly, walloping him across the back. Part of me was incensed, but she didn’t know any better.

  Lowell cut an awkward grin at me then waved bye. As Lowell drove away, Ladonna was still blowing up my ear about the Lotus she’d bought out of boredom and how she wished I were there to see the fine men at the dealership fighting for her business. Money really was an afterthought to her. I was nodding, but tuning her out when she regained my attention.

  “Uh . . . did I just see you get out the front seat of that Tahoe?” Ladonna posed to me with her hand on her hip.

  “Yeah,” I answered defensively.

  “Uh huh. You and your driver kinda close?” she pressed as she dismissively handed her keys to the valet and gave them her room number. “I mean. I understand. He’s cute . . . for a chauffeur.”

  “Nah. I just had a better view up front,” I slyly replied as I walked inside.

  Yeah. The barbecue sauce was spicy today.

  Chapter 13

  “You have to go for a spin with me, Artemis!” Ladonna gushed as we walked the halls of our floor. She just had to follow me upstairs, that mouth of hers just a-goin’ on autopilot.

  “Uh . . . girl, I don’t think I can fit in that little windup toy of yours, but thanks,” I proffered.

  “Nonsense. You can definitely fit. They wouldn’t make a car that expensive if people can’t fit in it,” she chimed in that airheaded way of hers. “And since you stood me up last night to have dinner with your handsome mystery man, we’ll take it out to the clubs tonight.”

  Did she say “clubs”? Plural?

  “Dang. You ain’t got somebody else you can drag there? What happened to those people from the pool last night?” I asked, halfway joking.

  “What do you think? We had an orgy! But no film,” she said with a wide grin. “And condoms were in effect. I practice what I preach, bitch. Of course, they were as disposable as a condom, so I can’t hang with them anymore. I have real friends like you for that.”

  “Ladonna, we barely know each other,” I bluntly admitted as we stopped in front of her room door.

  “But I wanna know you, dear. I find you interesting. What you want to know about me? Shoot,” she instructed as she folded her arms, that big purse of hers still in the way.

  “Uh . . .” I stuttered, not really wanting to know anything, but I guessed I was stuck with her as long as I was here. Friends and all that. “Where are you from?” I asked to get it out the way.

  “Originally? Jamaica. But we moved to Manhattan when I was a little girl. Big city girl with island roots. I’ve also lived in London, Barcelona, Atlanta, and Fresno, California.”

  “Fresno?” I questioned, surprised.

  “Don’t ask. He had a big cock,” she said with a shake of her head and roll
of her eyes. “And you?”

  “Texas,” I responded. “That’s it.” Of course there was more, as I’d recently found out, but why bother?

  “Knew it,” she said smugly. Was it a real friendship if you wanted to slap the other person more than once in a day? “C’mon inside,” she said as she waved her VIP bracelet to open her room door.

  “What is it you do? For a living.” I decided to ask since we were such friends. I had my own ideas, but figured I might as well confirm them.

  “Besides live off my trust fund, divorce settlement, and investments? Let my money grow looong.” She beamed as if happy I’d asked. “I know. Kinda boring, huh?”

  “Totally,” I deadpanned.

  While my suite was a junior, hers was slightly larger. And God, she needed it. Shopping bags and boxes from stores that I never heard of were clustered in the corner of the living room, some of them untouched. Near them were handfuls of gift cards, too, scattered haphazardly across a table beside a closed laptop. Was I in a suite or a retail store?

  “Early Christmas gifts?” I joked as I pointed to the gift cards.

  “Those?” she responded as she worked her touch-screen virtual menu on the half wall faster than I could follow. I think she was adjusting her room temperature, scheduling a hair appointment, and purchasing concert tickets at the same damn time. And how did her virtual assistant look like a hot dude? “I hand them out in addition to tips sometimes. That is if the service is extra good. You’d be surprised how some people go crazy over them. One time at Wolfgang Puck’s, a fight broke out between my servers over who was going to get it. Makes me feel like Santa Claus, helping the less fortunate. Well . . . if Saint Nick were a girl and sexy like me. Take a few and try it out,” she instructed as she walked over, grabbed several, and placed them in my hand.

  My eyes must’ve been twinkling as I curiously asked, “How much are these?”

  “I dunno. Five, I think,” she muttered while moving on to her shopping bags to hastily dig for something.

  “Five dollars each?”

  She looked at me like I was stupid, breaking off her search. “Now what can someone do with five dollars? That ain’t even enough for coffee. Those gift cards are for five hundred each, silly. Why do you think they fought over one at Puck’s?”

  I blinked hard and almost peed on myself with Ladonna’s admission. This bitch was breaking off $500 in gift cards on a whim? I was so not worthy to be around here. One of these alone would pay two of my utility bills back home and she was tossing them around like leftover pennies in an ashtray.

  “Oh, my God. You are throwing money around like a Saudi.”

  “Ha! That was my ex-husband. It was never going to work anyway. The whole ‘racial’ thing with his family,” she commented, stunning me further.

  “I couldn’t,” I mumbled softly about the gift cards I held.

  “Oh please! They’re a tax write-off to me. At least that’s what my accountant tells me. Charitable contributions, or something.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Nope, but that’s what I pay the Republican for.” She giggled as she found the outfit she was looking for, tag still on it.

  “I meant to do some shopping myself. I guess I could use a few . . . for tips like you said,” I mentioned while hiding the tremble of my hand as I multiplied $500 by the number of cards I’d counted. The last gift card I held was one to Chili’s mere days ago, a consolation prize for the bonus I’d earned. The cumulative amount of these gift cards put my bonus I was cheated out of to shame.

  “Good. Well, take ’em and go,” Ladonna instructed. “Because I just scheduled a chemical peel and hair appointment, so I must be getting downstairs to the salon. Give me your number so I can text you before we hook up tonight.”

  I walked back to my suite with my hands sweating. The plastic in my hands was worth more than I had in my name when I arrived. I shouldn’t have been feeling that way, but I felt like a thief, wondering how comfortable Ladonna would be with me if she knew I was a broke woman. Still, I wasn’t lying when I told her I planned on shopping. It was just going to be window shopping . . . until now.

  “Breathe, girl. Breathe,” I said aloud as I closed the door behind me and silently counted to ten. When no one knocked to tell me my charade was over, I smiled.

  The suite’s touch-screen display had a message flashing on it and the red button on the room phone was lit also. I strolled over to the glass panel and tapped it with my fingertip. My virtual assistant popped up as before, telling me there was a package waiting for me. I had no idea what it was, but chose to have it brought up. Perhaps it was a traditional welcome package from the hotel or something.

  About five minutes later, there was a knock at my door.

  “Ms. Clay, this was left at the front desk for you,” the young man in black said with a bright smile. It was the same one who’d carried my luggage up yesterday.

  “Oh,” I exclaimed. “Do you know who left it?” I pressed, surprised by the lovely gift-wrapped box.

  “No, ma’am. Perhaps somebody at the front desk knows more,” he said.

  “Okay. Thank you,” I responded. As he went to leave, I stopped him. “What do you do besides work here?” I asked him.

  “Ma’am?” he replied, caught off-guard by my question.

  “Do you work another job or something?” I questioned intently.

  “I attend school at CSN full time, so I can’t work any other jobs,” he admitted. He had goals. I liked that.

  “Well, here. This is for you,” I said as I placed one of Ladonna’s gift cards in his hand. “I know how it was when I was a college student.”

  “Thank you. Thank you very much,” he stated warmly. Once he found out how much the gift card was for, he’d really be excited.

  I carried the present with me to the kitchen where I opened a bottle of sparkling water and set it atop the counter. I grinned, thinking maybe Lowell was lying when he said he had a fare to pick up. The sly fox probably just wanted to run somewhere to pick up a gift for me, I assumed.

  As I carefully peeled back the red foil wrap, I began thinking about what I would say to Lowell when I called him. I guess our lunch affected him the same way it did me. The box underneath revealed it was from a dress shop, which made my stomach jump.

  And the dress inside made me jump.

  “Nooooo!” I crowed as I held the black draped cocktail dress up to my body. The designer was Tadashi Shoji and I’d be damned if it didn’t look to be my size. Lowell’s attention to detail impressed me even more.

  Before trying it on, I decided to call Lowell first just to thank him. At this point, it didn’t matter if it fit, for it’s the thought that counts.

  His phone was ringing when I noticed the card in the bottom of the box.

  “Hello?” Lowell answered.

  “Hey! I . . .” I said, pausing mid-sentence as I glanced over the note. And the signature at the end of it.

  “Artemis, you there?” he called out.

  “Yeah,” I softly replied. “I . . . I was just checking to make sure you got to your fare in time,” I added.

  “Yes, I did. That was very considerate of you.”

  “Yeah,” I said again, short with my words. “I’m considerate like that.”

  The signature at the end of the note wasn’t Lowell’s.

  It was Julian’s.

  The dress was a gift from Julian.

  Chapter 14

  Julian’s message read:

  Artemis,

  Thank you for putting me in my place when we first met. I’m not used to someone being so forthright and appreciate your bluntness, honesty, and beauty. Hope you don’t mind this small token of my appreciation and remembrance of our brief time together last night. Even though our time here in Las Vegas has been short, I really hope to have many more moments in the future.

  Julian

  “Wow,” I mouthed in a low tone with Lowell still on the phone.


  “Something going on over there?” Lowell questioned.

  “No. I’m sorry. I’m just a little distracted,” I admitted as I admired the linen card etched with Julian’s words. For all I knew, Julian had one of his people pick out the dress and address the note. Yet . . . it somehow didn’t feel that way. Despite his claims of turning over a new leaf thanks to me, I didn’t think he would be willing to share these kinds of thoughts with an employee of his.

  “Is your unusual friend Ladonna around? I could see why she’d be a distraction,” he admitted.

  “Nah,” I replied. “I managed to free myself of her. For a minute.”

  “Okay. Anything you want to share with me?” the Harley-riding, limo-driving brother whose friends called him “Weasel” for some reason asked.

  What I wanted to share was my appreciation for the gorgeous, generous gift, except . . .

  I was wrong.

  Julian had sent it to me.

  “Nah. That’s it. Just making sure you got to your fare in time. Oh. The barbecue was great also. Thank you . . . again,” I feebly offered Lowell in an effort to get off the phone.

  “See! Your honesty is finally winning out,” he clowned, probably thinking he was having a breakthrough with me. “I am really getting you to open up, Artemis.”

  “True.” I giggled. “Well . . . guess I should go now.”

  “Okay, you go. But don’t forget that I’m at your beck and call whenever you need me,” Lowell casually reminded me oh so timely.

  “Got another Facebook page for me to ‘Like’? Because I’ve gotten good at clicking,” I teased.

  “Nah,” he said. “But you can ‘like’ me if you want. I don’t come with buttons though.”

  “Fine. I’ll take that. But I thought for sure you had buttons for me to push, Weasel. It’s a shame that you don’t,” I said coyly before catching myself. Had to keep telling myself flirtation like this was too soon. Yet it was hard to live by lofty goals with two very different yet equally appealing men vying for my time and attention. Who knew? Maybe, my heart and mind, too?

  “Oh, now you wanna mess with my head. And on that note, I’m out,” he crowed, abruptly hanging up on me.