All Up In My Business

by Lutishia Lovely

  “Girl, any glow you see is from that pound cake you put your foot into.” Candace tried to remain nonchalant, even as her heart quickened.

  “I don’t think so,” Diane said, eyeing her sister-in-law closely. “I might want to check out your personal trainer myself, because whatever he’s doing is sure working for you.”

  * * *

  In the study, Ace looked up as his brother returned from the restroom. “Everything come out okay?” he jokingly asked. When Adam didn’t respond, Ace looked up. “You all right, twin?”

  “I don’t know,” Ace said with a frown. “I felt a bit of a burning sensation when I took a piss just now.”

  “You ain’t been out creepin’, have you?” Ace said this in jest. No Livingston man had stepped out on his wife in more than fifty years.

  “No,” Adam replied. He sat down in the leather recliner opposite his brother and carefully relit his cigar. “But that shit don’t feel right.”

  “You might want to have old man Bronson check you out if it don’t go away.” James Bronson was not only the Livingston family physician, but also a trusted family friend. “Probably nothin’, though.”

  “You damn right it’s nothing,” Adam replied, even as he adjusted himself in his pants. “Ain’t been nobody for me but Baby Girl in over thirty years. So I know I don’t have to worry about shit.”

  27

  Malcolm bounded out of bed and was out of the house by seven o’clock. After pouring himself a cup of the ever-present coffee in the break room, he went back to his office and was immediately buried in work. There had been a sizable spike in expenses at several Taste locations, and Malcolm spent an hour in a conference call with the managers. The rest of the morning was spent approving expense reports, talking with human resources, and reading a myriad of reports. As the noon hour approached, Malcolm’s stomach growled. Perfect timing. After giving his assistant instructions regarding a report he was drafting, he headed to the private dining room attached to the catering and taste kitchen.

  The room was buzzing with conversation, but all talk ceased and all eyes turned as soon as Malcolm walked into the room.

  “Smells good in here, son,” Adam said. “But there’s an unfamiliar chef in the kitchen with Oliver, and both of their mouths are closed tighter than the lid on the pickle drum. What’s going on here?”

  “Don’t mind your father,” Candace said, coming over to hug Malcolm. “He’s so nosy. And I am too. Did you cook the barbeque I’m smelling?”

  Malcolm greeted Diane, Ace, and Toussaint, who were seated at the table. Diane and Ace engaged him in small talk, while Toussaint texted on his phone. “We need to get this meeting started,” he said without looking up. “I have a conference call with some LA Realtors at two o’clock.”

  “Slow your roll, little brother. Good things come to those who wait.”

  “That may be, son,” Candace answered, “but I won’t be waiting past one-thirty. You know I work out on Tuesdays.”

  “We’re waiting for one more person, and then we can begin.”

  “Oh, is Victoria coming?” Diane asked. Candace had told her this was a Livingston meeting. “I thought the doctor advised her to stay in bed.”

  “No, Victoria won’t be here.”

  “Then who could—” Diane paused as the door opened. Four sets of eyes looked to see who was behind door number one.

  “Hello, everyone!” Joyce enthusiastically greeted the room. She walked over and gave Malcolm a brief hug. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Candace and Diane exchanged looks, as did Adam and Ace. Toussaint’s brows rose in question. “Joyce, this is a surprise,” he said.

  “Today’s meeting will be full of surprises.” Before anyone could respond to Malcolm’s cryptic answer, Oliver and the unfamiliar cook came out of the kitchen. Malcolm stood and introduced him to the table. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet a brilliant engineer-turned-closet-cook, Luis Sanchez. He’s the mastermind behind the technical aspects of this device and is assisting Oliver in today’s presentation.”

  Those around the room nodded or said hello, curiosity evident on their faces. Luis placed the large box he carried on the table, next to Malcolm, and then returned to the kitchen.

  “Would you like me to bring out the salads now, Malcolm?” Oliver asked.

  “Yes, please.” Once Oliver returned to the kitchen, Malcolm stood. “As you all know, this has been a rather interesting time in my household. What you didn’t know is that Victoria’s unexpected—and untimely—pregnancy was not the only new project under way.

  “Dad, about five years ago, I mentioned an idea to you—an invention, of sorts. The desire to see this idea come to fruition never left, and today it is my pleasure to tell you that not only has this idea been realized, but also soon it will be in millions of households.” Malcolm smiled at the mixture of expressions around the table—a delicious blend of curiosity, expectation and, in Joyce’s case, joy. He opened the top of the box, leaving the cooker exposed and sitting on the box’s bottom. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Soul Smoker!”

  Stunned silence filled the room for just a moment, and then everyone started talking at once.

  “What is a soul smoker?”

  “What in the world?”

  “Where did you get this contraption?”

  “Oh, my goodness, what have you gone and done?”

  Malcolm smiled and held up his hands. “I’ll answer all your questions, promise.” He paused while Oliver brought out the salads. No one touched their plates but rather continued to look at Malcolm expectantly. “This device will allow the novice barbecuer to make slabs as good as the pro. It’s a combination cooker and grill, where one can place their meat in the cooker, walk away, and return an hour or so later to perfectly done meat—every time.” He continued the presentation, opening the smoker and walking them through the steps to prepare meat inside it. He passed around the detachable parts, including the skewers and sauce holder, and explained how the timer and other controls worked.

  “You have been busy, big brother,” Toussaint said, his expression unreadable. “Is it patented?”

  “We’re in the final stages. Unlike a copyright, a patent is a long, complicated process that’s already taken us a year and a half, and that was without this final product fully completed. It will take another six months, we’re guessing, to have the patent, but we can still implement part two of this national plan.”

  “National?” Toussaint asked. He dug into his salad. “Yes, I am planning on marketing this product nationwide.”

  “How?” Ace asked, finally picking up a fork, spearing a broccoli floret, and dipping it into tahini dressing.

  “That’s where Joyce comes in,” Malcolm said, smiling at Joyce. “She has a major contact that will ensure me high visibility in target markets.”

  “Are we talking newspapers, Internet, television, what?” Diane’s interest was piqued, especially since she knew Shyla was working on an independent campaign for when Tous-saint’s cooking episode aired on the Food Network.

  Candace put her fork down and wiped her mouth. “Joyce, how did you get involved?” For some reason, the secrecy surrounding the whole affair didn’t sit well with her, and neither did this woman who seemed just a little too cozy at her son’s side.

  “It was a fluke, really. He mentioned needing national exposure for a project he was working on, and I mentioned my contact. That’s pretty much it.”

  “Interesting.” Candace didn’t believe for a minute that was all there was to it, and she planned to have a talk with Malcolm later to find out how right she was. Immediately, a pang of guilt shot through her. You’ve got your nerve questioning someone else’s morality. Take a look in the mirror, sistah!

  Luis brought out another smoker. The strong smell of barbeque oozed out of its openings. He sat it on the table next to the clean smoker and plugged it in. Malcolm explained how the slab inside had been cooked and that a chicken had been prepa
red in yet another smoker. He wanted his family to experience the smoker’s ability to grill the perfect meat no matter the type.

  For the next thirty minutes, the family oohed and aahed over the barbeque made in Malcolm’s smoker, which the chef served with fried potato salad. The meat was fall-off-the-bone tender, as it had been the night Malcolm and Joyce tried it, and had been moistened perfectly by the automatic sprayers inside the cylinder. Likewise, the sauce that had been brushed on internally was just enough to coat the meat. Extra sauce was provided, but no one used it. Everyone said the meat was perfect straight out of the smoker.

  “I hate to eat and run, but you’ve given me a real reason to work out today,” Candace said, rising from the table. She walked over and hugged Malcolm. “This invention is fantastic. I’m proud of you, son.”

  “I concur, big bro,” Toussaint chimed in. He and Malcolm exchanged a soul brother’s handshake. “We can put one of these in every Taste of Soul across the country, and around the world.” Toussaint’s comment made it clear that he fully intended to see his dreams realized, as had his brother.

  “Brilliant ideas from brilliant sons,” Candace cooed, smoothly diffusing the all-too-familiar competitive energy. “I want one of those in my house before midnight,” she whispered to Malcolm.

  Joyce glanced at her watch. She was hoping to spend a few moments alone with Malcolm, but the rest of the family seemed in no hurry to leave and she had an appointment. “You were great today, Malcolm. It felt special to be here. Thank you so much for including me in what I’m sure will be a rousing success and for allowing me to share this moment with you and your family.”

  “You’re welcome,” Malcolm said. He gave Joyce a brief hug. “Your encouragement these last couple months really helped me push on through to the project’s completion. I appreciate you.”

  Joyce warmed all over. At first, she’d approached Malcolm with the sole purpose of getting Adam out of her head by getting Malcolm into her bed. But now, her feelings for him went beyond lust. In the short time Joyce had gotten to know Malcolm, she’d found him to be an intelligent, compassionate, focused, and faithful man, one whom any woman would be blessed to have. She didn’t want to admit it, but Joyce was in love with him. “I know Victoria wishes she could have been here. She must be proud of you too.”

  Before Malcolm could respond, his father walked up. “Good job, son,” Adam said, eyeing both Joyce and Candace as they hurried out the door. “Didn’t know you and Joyce had gotten so friendly.”

  “We’re helping each other out with some shared goals is all.”

  “You sure about that? Joyce is an attractive, unattached woman. She hasn’t hit on you, flirted, or nothing?”

  “Why do you ask?” Malcolm asked, his brow furrowed. His love life was a rare topic between father and son.

  “I know things are strained between you and Victoria, but you know that when it comes to stepping out on your wife …”

  “I know, Dad. We have a legacy of faithfulness to uphold.”

  “That’s right.”

  “So that’s what you stayed behind to find out? Whether my relationship with Joyce extends beyond business?”

  “Just looking out for your best interests, son.” Adam turned to leave. “Come by my office later. I want to run some things by you.”

  Adam left the conference room with an urge to use the restroom. Once again, it burned when he peed. Damn, that felt even worse than last night. As he washed his hands, he remembered what Ace had said. You might want to have old man Bronson check you out if it don’t go away. Adam felt that Ace was right, and when Malcolm stopped by to see him later that day, Adam’s office was unoccupied.

  28

  Candace turned off her phone as she walked up the steps to Q’s gym. The door opened as she reached it.

  “You’re late,” Q said as she passed him.

  “I know, business luncheon, couldn’t be helped.”

  Q gripped the towel that was around his neck and eyed his client slowly. “So, Candy, are you ready to work off that meal?”

  Candace took off her jacket and smiled.

  Adam paced Doctor Bronson’s office, too keyed up to sit. It wasn’t just the earlier experience in the office bathroom that had him on edge, but also the conversation he’d had with Candace last night.

  “It burned when I took a piss just now,” Adam said as he crawled into the bed. “Anything going on with you?”

  “What do you mean?” Candace asked, not looking up from the Ebony magazine she flipped through.

  “Everything all right when you use the bathroom?”

  “Now that you mention it,” Candace said after a long pause, “I have noticed a discharge. I think I might have a yeast infection.”

  “That shouldn’t make my dick burn, should it?” Candace shrugged. “I think I’ll go see Doctor Bronson.”

  “Are you sure, baby?” Candace quickly asked. “It’s probably nothing.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  Candace had not replied, and when Adam reached over to hug her, she’d stiffened. This unusual behavior had caused him to ponder other moments that at the time he’d ignored but now seemed strange. Especially since he was standing in Doctor Bronson’s office because whatever was burning hadn’t gone away.

  Adam tried to distract himself by flipping through a medical magazine, but he tossed it aside as soon as Doctor Bronson entered the room and closed the door. “Well, James, what’d you find out?”

  James Bronson walked over and sat in the chair next to Adam, the friend-turned-patient whom he’d known for over twenty years. Bronson looked older than his fifty-seven years, largely due to his near-white hair and premature wrinkles. His ruddy, freckled face, a nod to his half-Indian heritage, was a mask of calm as he turned and faced Adam. “Well, friend, there’s no easy way to tell you this. You’ve got gonorrhea.”

  “I’ve got what? Man, you’re bullshittin’ me.”

  “No, ran the tests myself, keeping it confidential, like you asked.”

  “Well, you need to run them again, because there’s no way I’ve got the clap!”

  Doctor Bronson ignored Adam’s outburst. “You need to speak with … whomever you’re sleeping with,” he continued calmly. “Have them get checked out as well so they can be treated. The sooner the better, Adam. This disease isn’t anything to play around with.”

  “Are you listening to me, James? I’ve been faithful to Candace since the day we married, man. Now I’m telling you, there’s no way in the world I’ve got that shit.”

  “And I’m telling you that these results don’t lie. And gonorrhea doesn’t just happen out of nowhere.” Doctor Bronson said nothing further but stared at Adam with unblinking gray eyes.

  Adam stared back. Realization dawned. “Wait. You don’t mean to say …” Adam stood and began pacing again. He stopped at the window, looking without seeing the colorful oak leaves on the tree just beyond him, and then turned back around. “Are you trying to say what I think you’re trying to say? That Candace is cheating on me?”

  “Brother, as your doctor, I can only tell you the results of these tests. For any other information, you’ll need to ask your wife.”

  “Q, please,” Candace panted, ignoring the sweat that rolled off her naked body. “It feels so … it feels …” Her brain too dis-combobulated to put together a complete sentence, she gave up trying. “Mmm.”

  “Whose pussy is this, huh?” Q lifted his face from where it had been wedged between Candace’s legs. Instead of waiting for an answer, he dipped down and used his tongue as a sword, spearing the flesh between her nether folds and swirling her nub with a fencer’s precision. His head was buried so deep that anyone watching would have wondered how he breathed, since his nose seemed to be immersed as deep as his tongue. “Who does this belong to? Huh?” he asked again when he finally came up for air.

  Candace whimpered, incapable of saying anything more. Q spread her lips as wide as they could go an
d then dove into her paradise. He made deep, purring sounds, lapping, nibbling, sucking, and then lapping some more. Candace’s legs began shaking violently as an intense orgasm seemed to erupt from her very core. She moaned against the sweatshirt she’d stuck in her mouth moments before, knowing if she didn’t her screams would reverberate off of the gym’s front door.

  But Q wasn’t finished. Before she could catch her breath, he flipped her legs to the side, moved behind her and plunged his nine-inch sword into her still-quivering heat. Candace didn’t think it possible, didn’t think she had any more energy, but within seconds she was writhing against him, encouraging him to go faster, deeper.

  “Uh-huh, you love this big dick, don’tcha? Don’tcha?” Q placed his hand under Candace’s knee and lifted her leg higher. They were positioned on a long, padded bench in Q’s private office. Candace had one foot on the floor and one on the bench while Q, with one knee on the bench as well, effortlessly supported the rest of her weight. The office door was locked, and his phone had been forwarded to voice mail. As always, Candace had been booked for a ninety-minute session. The first sixty minutes had happened out on the gym floor. Now, Q was finishing her workout. “Ain’t nobody ever gonna be able to push these buttons like I do, baby,” he murmured as he spread her cheeks wide and continued his assault with one hand while cupping her breasts with the other. “That’s why you’re gonna keep coming back to me.”

  He motioned Candace to lie on the bench, positioned himself on top of her, and proceeded to pummel her with his juicy, thick dick. Candace moaned louder and louder until Q placed a hand over her mouth. “I know you wanna scream, Candy, but you gotta squash that shit.”

  “I’m trying to but …” Candace panted between thrusts.

  “But it’s good, right?”

  “Uh-huh. Feels … so … good …”

  “How about this?” Q’s motion went from in and out to side to side.