Other People's Business

by Pamela Yaye

  Tyrell didn’t even blink. “Believe you me, I can handle it.” His probing eyes held hers and in a sickly sweet voice he gushed, “I’m interested in getting to know the real you, Autumn. That’s it. Sleeping with you is the furthest thing from my mind.”

  But in the last three months, it had been the only thing on his mind. In recent weeks, Tyrell had become more agitated about her unwillingness to “put out.” He’d found ways to work sex into every conversation they had and had even gone as far as sending Autumn long, pitiful e-mails on the subject. After weeks of his incessant badgering and “Baby, baby, please,” she’d caved in. Tonight was supposed to be the night. Autumn had sauvignon blanc chilling on ice, Teddy Pendergrass waiting to lend his voice to the occasion and white rose petals sprawled across her candle-laden bedroom.

  Autumn sighed deeply. Tyrell had turned out to be just like all the other guys. He was caught up in the game. The pursuit. The challenge. He was spirited and competitive, and luring her into his bed was just another one of his conquests. Tyrell thought that once he finagled his way into her heart, she would be putty in his hands. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Autumn polished off her cocktail. When a lanky, wide-faced server offered her another glass, she politely declined. “Tyrell always had an answer. He—” Autumn searched for the right words. When none came, she paused a moment longer. “I believed Tyrell when he told me I was the only woman in his life. He took me to nice places, treated me like a lady and he is from the wealthiest African-American family in D.C. The fact that my mother adored him made it easy for me to overlook some of his questionable behavior.” Autumn ran a shaky hand through her hair. She was already dreading her face-off with Evelyn. Her mother was enamored with the Wellmans and had been overjoyed when she had discovered her daughter was dating one. A shiver whizzed up Autumn’s spine. She could only imagine what Evelyn would do when she returned home and learned the truth.

  “I can understand that,” Yvette conceded, “but if that’s all you want—someone to take you to nice places and foot the bill—then stay with him. But if you want a lasting relationship with a man who’s going to be there every step of the way, quit wasting your time with Tyrell.”

  “For months now, I’ve been the one fighting for this relationship. I did the calling, I planned the dates and I was the one making sacrifices so we could spend time together. And for what? So Tyrell could bail on me when I need him the most? He’s not the right man for me and I can see that now.” When Yvette raised her eyebrows and crinkled her nose, Autumn insisted, “I’m serious this time. It’s over.”

  “We’ll see,” Yvette said distrustfully, “because Lord knows I’ve heard that one before.”

  The chalk-white tent, outfitted with drapery, opulent ceiling fans and shiny brass chandeliers, lent an air of glamour to the event. Twenty round tables, each seating ten, were dressed in white tablecloths, gold napkins and heart-shape flower arrangements. Three sphere-shape gold candles sat on flat mirrors on each table, reflecting light throughout the tent.

  Peeking through the curtain, Autumn couldn’t help thinking the evening looked more like a wedding reception than a dinner party for the engaged couple. Well-dressed guests seated on lawn chairs were listening to the colorful banter of Edgar Grisbey, awaiting the arrival of the bridal party.

  Autumn turned back around and checked her impulse to laugh. Mrs. Grisbey was fussing all over her adult daughter as if it was her first day of preschool and Melissa was eating it up.

  “Your father is going to conclude his address by thanking everyone for coming and then he’ll introduce the bridal party.” Mrs. Grisbey adjusted the ultra-thin straps of her daughter’s topaz chiffon dress. “Walk in with your head high, your back slightly curved and don’t forget to smile at the photographers. Now, where is everyone?”

  Melissa fluffed her hair. “The girls went to freshen up and the guys ducked into the game room. But Peter promised they would be right back.” Right on cue, Melissa’s fiancé, Peter, and a half dozen men of varying shades and heights emerged from the rear patio door.

  “I’m going to give them some final instructions.” Mrs. Grisbey rushed over to the all-male group.

  Shante, Melissa’s cousin and a bridesmaid, pointed a lengthy, acrylic nail straight ahead. “Now here comes a piece of chocolate I wouldn’t mind tasting. Hot damn! That brother has the most kissable lips I’ve ever seen,” she finished, low murmuring sounds further emphasizing her point. Then, she turned to her cousin. “Who is that and why haven’t I been introduced?”

  Melissa stared at the posse of black men that had encircled her mother. “You need to be more specific, Shante. There are a dozen pieces of ‘chocolate’ over there,” she joked, laughing lightly.

  “The bald hottie in the tan suit.” She added with a toothy grin, “The one with all those muscles, the wide strapping shoulders and the tight, brick-hard butt.”

  Autumn tried not to gape. Not only was the hunky stranger a walking billboard for GQ but he also had a smile that could melt the wax off a slow-burning candle in the blink of an eye. Mr. Tan Suit can light my fire any day of the week! Autumn felt her face warm. It was bad enough she was openly lusting, she didn’t want to add swooning to the equation, too, so she forced her eyes to look away.

  Yvette whistled. “Now, that’s what I call fine. Long limbs, heavy lips and a body so hot it could thaw a block of butter. Yum-m-y.”

  Autumn chuckled. Sometimes Yvette was just too much. She kept her voice natural and her facial expression non-chlant when she asked Melissa who the stranger was. “Is he one of Peter’s co-workers? A family friend? A distant relative or something?”

  A self-righteous smile curved Melissa’s lips. Autumn was trying to appear uninterested, but desire shone clear in her eyes. Melissa turned from her cousin to her best friend. “Remember last week when you said no to a blind date with the best man?”

  “Yeah…” Autumn murmured.

  “That’s him. Peter’s best man, Larry,” Melissa explained slyly.

  “Larry?” Autumn and Yvette bellowed in unison.

  “That’s the guy you were trying to hook Autumn up with?” Yvette asked dubiously. “The country bamma from Mississippi?”

  Melissa looked as though she wanted to laugh. “The one and only. Now, pick your jaw up from off the pavement, put your eyes back in your head and smile, Autumn. Here he comes.”

  Autumn gathered her wits about her. She tightened her slack jaw, smoothed the creases out of her cheeks and plastered what she thought was a welcoming smile on her face. She could do this. He was just a man. An incredibly gorgeous man whose very presence suddenly made her very nervous. But still just a man.

  “Ready to make your grand entrance?” Peter asked, kissing his bride-to-be.

  Melissa twined her arms around his slim torso. “I’m ready now that you’re here.”

  Shante looked on in amazement as the ridiculously happy couple retreated to a just-the-two-of-us world. They hugged and kissed and whispered as though they were alone in their bedroom, rather than among family and friends. Shante straightened her slinky black dress. She didn’t have time to wait for the lovebirds to sober up and make the necessary introductions. There was no telling when they would resurface from their fantasy world, and time was of the essence. She had to make a move on the Jet centerfold before Autumn sank her claws into him. A year ago, Little Miss Perfect had swiped Tyrell right out from underneath her. But not this time. She refused to be outshone and outsmarted again.

  Shante raked a hand through her waist-length hair, flashing a sly smile the stranger’s way. She took a bold step forward, primed to fire off her best pickup line. But before she could part her lips, he focused his eyes on Autumn, and asked, “Did you make it home okay this afternoon?”

  The sound of his husky, late-night voice snapped Autumn’s mind to attention. “Excuse me?”

  He smiled, revealing perfectly straight teeth. “I can’t believe the fifteen minutes we spe
nt together meant absolutely nothing to you.” His hundred-watt smile dimmed. Then he threw his left hand over his chest and grinned mischievously. “I’m hurt by how little you care.”

  Autumn exchanged a baffled look with Yvette.

  “You’ve met?” Melissa inquired, suddenly interested in their exchange. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

  “I didn’t know we had.”

  “I guess our brief meeting meant more to me than it did to you,” Larry said, taking off his sunglasses. “I never forget a face, especially one as pretty as yours.”

  Autumn gave him the once-over, staggered by her intense reaction to him. She had never been this taken with a man before. Never. She couldn’t remember the last time she had agreed with Shante, but there was no disputing the man-eater’s claim—the man had kissable lips. Autumn was nothing if not disciplined, and in the three years she had been celibate, she had never once stumbled. But than again, Autumn had never met a man who made her body shake, rattle and roll with just one smile. His bedroom eyes taunted her and his sultry five o’clock shadow made her heart do the cha-cha. He had the kind of extraordinarily long eyelashes that drag queens would kill for, and his brown coloring reminded Autumn of caramel—rich, smooth and creamy.

  Autumn flipped through her mental address file of all the men she had met recently and came up blank. No Ebony Hunk. It wasn’t possible that they had met and she couldn’t remember. He wasn’t the type of man a woman forgot. Her eyes lingered on his lips. She could just feel the heat of his mouth as his lips blazed a trail from her neck to her breasts. His strong, manly hands would grab a handful of her… Whoa! Get a grip! This is not how a celibate woman behaves. Autumn cleared her throat. She was crossing the line. Jumping over it was more like it. If Regina or any of the other group members could see her now, they would ban her from attending any more group sessions.

  “Are you sure you don’t remember me?”

  The man reeked of charm, which made him all the more appealing. Autumn stared on as he licked his lips with more finesse than LL Cool J, then set his mouth in a broad grin. Did he work in her building? Had they met at Rawlins and McGill? Autumn thought back to earlier in the day. She had handed the file to the Mr. Whithers’s receptionist, Eugenia, and after a few minutes of polite conversation, returned to the parking lot and collected her car. She hadn’t even been in the law firm a full five minutes. “I’m quite certain we have never met before,” Autumn replied, her mind working overtime. She tried desperately to place him. Something about the man was oddly familiar and he was eyeing her as if they shared a secret.

  “I’ve always had a soft spot for a damsel in distress. I guess my mom read me one too many fairy tales as a child,” Larry acknowledged good-naturedly. “So when I spotted a young woman…”

  Suddenly everything clicked. It was him. The Good Samaritan who had changed her flat tire. Her eyes narrowed. Autumn could hardly believe that the hunk standing before her was the same foul-smelling man who had helped her just two hours ago. But he was. Giving her eyes free rein, she subtly checked him out. He had cleaned up nicely. Clean, trimmed nails, no traces of mud or dirt anywhere, and he smelled like lemon and coriander, not spoiled milk. The stained white T-shirt and shorts had been swapped for a fitted suit, stylish leather dress shoes and a few pieces of simple jewelry.

  Autumn couldn’t believe her luck. If this wasn’t one of fate’s twisted jokes, she didn’t know what was. Over seven hundred thousand people lived in Washington, D.C. Anyone of them could have come to her aid, but she had been rescued by the very man Melissa wanted to set her up with. Larry. Larry Saunders. This had made-for-TV movie written all over it. Autumn tilted her head to the side. Melissa was grinning from ear to ear like someone who had pulled off the con of all cons. Autumn’s mouth settled into a deep frown. If she didn’t know any better, she would think Melissa had rigged her tire and then sent Larry to come and save her. Autumn almost burst into wild laughter at the absurd workings of her mind. She was definitely losing it.

  “When I saw shapely legs peeking out of the passenger door, I almost drove off the road,” he confessed in a hushed voice.

  Larry examined Ms. Flat Tire closely. His eyes traveled down her curvy frame and back up again before she could label him a creep. “So we meet again.”

  “I guess so,” was all Autumn could say.

  This time, when her knight in shining armor extended his right hand, she took it, in part to keep from keeling over onto the grass and in part to prove to herself she wasn’t the least bit affected by being in such close proximity to him. Even if her body was telling her otherwise.

  “Larry Saunders. But like I told you before, my friends call me L.J.”

  “What does the J stand for?”

  “Jeremiah. And what’s your name? Little Miss. Reckless Driver?”

  Autumn couldn’t hold back her smile. His eyes were alive with laughter when she said, “For your information, I’m an excellent driver, Jeremiah, and I have the merit points to prove it.”

  No one called him Jeremiah except his grandmother, but L.J. loved the way it sounded rolling off this woman’s lips. Strong. Powerful. Herculean even. He had adopted the moniker L.J. in the fifth grade after his cousin, Dominick, said it sounded a hundred times cooler than Larry or Jeremiah. But his abhorrence for his middle name dissolved as soon as Ms. Flat Tire said it. With a lovely face and a body to match, the woman could call him Chewbacca for all he cared. Titillated by the silkiness of her voice and wanting to hear more, he squeezed her hand. “Now it’s your turn. What should I call you?”

  Ready and willing, Autumn thought. Acutely aware that they were still holding hands, and that they had a band of nosy spectators behind them, she pulled away. “Autumn. Autumn Nicholson. And thanks again for this afternoon.”

  “It was my pleasure. But you can properly thank me on the dance floor.”

  Autumn took the bait. “Just say when.”

  Chapter 3

  L.J. couldn’t remember the last time he had been this entertained. Seated between Yvette and Autumn, he couldn’t have asked for better dinner companions. Yvette, who reminded him of his sister, Kellianne, was the exemplary round-the-way girl. She embraced everything from the raunchy lyrics of The Notorious B.I.G. to the well-regarded poetry of Langston Hughes. Autumn, who sat to his right and dazzled him in her papaya-colored dress and sparkly crystal earrings, was utterly enchanting and had the girl-next-door thing down to a science.

  L.J. had spent so much time hamming it up with the two women he had scarcely tasted the three-course dinner. With dessert coming to an end, he was ready to call it a night. It had been a long day and although he was having an awesome time with Yvette and Autumn, his body was screaming out for sleep. He had arrived in Washington late last night, awakened at dawn, put in a full eight-hour day at his uncle’s farm and then come straight to the engagement party. If he didn’t get some shut-eye soon, he’d be sleeping in his bowl of piña colada pudding.

  L.J. hated skipping out so early—it wasn’t even ten o’clock, but he was struggling to stay awake. He was nodding at everything coming out of Yvette’s mouth, but he had been sleeping with his eyes open for the last half hour. When Autumn turned to him and asked if he was having a good time, L.J. forced himself to focus. Maybe I’m not as sleepy as I thought, he decided as he responded to her question. He wasn’t going anywhere until he’d had the dance Autumn had promised him earlier.

  L.J.’s chance to dance with Autumn came ten minutes later. When the bridal party was summoned to the dance floor to join Melissa and Peter, L.J. shot to his feet and helped Autumn out of her chair. Praying the DJ would play a slow tune so he could hold her in his arms, he led her out to the dance floor. He draped his arms around her sinewy waist as the familiar melody of “Always and Forever” filled the room. L.J. inhaled her aromatic, fruity perfume as their bodies came together. Autumn felt even better than he had imagined. Silky. Delicate. All woman. She had curves like a twisting road and eac
h shift of her generous hips made his pulse soar. And that wasn’t the only part of his body rising. A bashful man would have pulled away to conceal his body’s reaction, but not L.J. He drew Autumn closer. The feel of her soft flesh under his hands made his entire body yearn for the taste of her lips.

  L.J. prided himself on being a man of conviction. When he made a decision he stuck to it. But he was also man enough to admit when he was wrong. And he had been dead wrong about Autumn. After she had rebuffed him and sprinted over to her car, L.J. had labeled her a snob. He had grouped her with all the other stuck-up women he had ever met in Washington. But when he had returned to his uncle’s house, and caught sight of his gruesome reflection in one of the hallway mirrors, he’d staggered back in shock. He looked like he’d been sloshing around in a pigpen. Dirt and mud coated his clothes, grease stains masked his face and he smelled like spoiled meat. No wonder Autumn had recoiled when he’d asked for her name!

  Autumn closed her eyes. Resting her head on his shoulder, she decided this was heaven. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this good in a man’s arms. For the past two years she had fortified her second virginity better than a Brink’s truck and had subsequently limited all physical contact with the opposite sex. No hugs. No intimate touches. And no dancing. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed the comforting touch of a man’s hands until L.J.’s fingers caressed her back.

  What are you doing? Have you forgotten rules ten and eleven? Autumn lifted her head as swiftly as she’d let it fall. She didn’t know L.J. from Adam but here she was getting up close and personal with him on the dance floor. She disregarded the questioning looks from her friends, but inched back anyways. The last thing she needed was word getting back to her parents that she had been grinding on the dance floor with some stranger. Her parents were vacationing in Martinique and wouldn’t be back for several weeks, which gave Autumn ample time to prepare for the inescapable showdown with her mother. Evelyn would raise Cain when she learned her daughter wasn’t going to be the next Mrs. Wellman. Autumn could only hope that Evelyn would respect the decision she had made.