by Pamela Yaye
When the soothing sounds of Motown were replaced with a thunderous hip-hop beat, Autumn left the sanctuary of L.J.’s arms. He placed a hand on the small of her back, and then steered her over to the dessert table. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked, his breath brushing against her ear like a kiss.
Warmed by his heat, she said, “Something cold would be nice.”
“Soda all right?”
“Yes, thanks.”
While they drank, they watched a group of teenagers flaunt the latest dance moves. They moved with the fluency and ease of trained dancers and reminded Autumn just how out of touch she was with the younger generation. She was still in her twenties, but seeing what was “in,” made her feel like she was one birthday cake away from ninety.
“Would you like to go outside?” L.J. asked, realizing it was going to be impossible for them to talk over the ear-shattering music. “A stroll outside will do us some good.” L.J. had been sharing her all night, and was eager to have her to himself. When she hesitated, he added, “I promise not to bite. That is, unless you want me to.”
Autumn laughed off his remark. He’s joking, right? “All right, I’ll come but don’t try anything funny.”
Now, it was L.J.’s turn to laugh.
She curved her fingers around the arm he offered. The chilly evening breeze nipped at Autumn’s bare shoulders as they emerged from behind the tent walls. Her teeth chattered as she rubbed her hands over her chilled arms.
“If you need an extra set of hands, mine are free,” L.J. said, holding them up for her to see.
Autumn laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.” She untied the knitted shawl from around her waist, slung it around her shoulders and stepped back into line with him.
White, cylinder-shape lanterns hung from the tent to the patio and miniature glass bowls with floating candles surrounded the swimming pool. A handful of other couples were roaming around, taking pleasure in the spectacular sunset. The sky was blanketed in a dashing orange hue with streaks of magenta in the backdrop.
“What part of Mississippi are you from?” Autumn asked as they rounded the corner and made their way deeper into the backyard.
“Vicksburg. Also known as the Red Carpet City of the South. But aside from some restored historic museums and centennial homes, the city doesn’t have much to offer. After graduating from Mississippi State University back in ’95, I decided to try my luck in Atlanta, and I’ve been there ever since.”
“And how is the ATL treating you?”
Autumn surveyed L.J. with critical eyes, wondering if everything Melissa had told her about him was true. How could a man with his looks and remarkable personal success still be single at thirty-five? Over the course of dinner, she had discovered that Larry Jeremiah Saunders was every bit as delightful as he appeared to be. He had impressed her with his knowledge of world history, his diverse tastes in literature and music, and his witty sense of humor. When he spoke, he instantly commanded the attention and respect of people around him. He was just that fascinating. Were the women in Atlanta blind? Or is he hiding something? Maybe he has a fetish for wearing women’s underwear. Or maybe he’s bisexual. Autumn studied L.J. He didn’t look bisexual, but what exactly did a bisexual man look like? She stared at him some more. A woman could never be too sure in the new millennium. These days, brothers were skipping out of the closet left, right and center. And the ones who weren’t courageous enough to step out were simply fulfilling their desires on the sly.
“I love everything about the South,” L.J. was saying when Autumn returned to the present. He sat down on one of the striped pool chaises, patted the spot next to him, and when she took the seat, he continued speaking. “Southerners are unbelievably friendly people and Atlanta is one of the few big American cities where black people still smile and nod when passing. It’s the number-one city for African-Americans, and there are a plethora of reasons why. Atlanta is an equal-opportunity city and more welcoming to Blacks than other large cities. We’re a highly educated people starting our own businesses, running Fortune 500 companies and paving the way for the next generation to come into their own. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. I guess deep down, I’m just a good ol’ Southern boy at heart.” A pause, and then, “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Where did that come from? Autumn tried to hide her amusement. She looked over at L.J., surprised to see heat radiating from his eyes and his mouth curled into a delicious smile. She had no doubts about his sexuality now. The man was as straight as a ladder. Before she could tease him for getting all up in her business, she heard the slumberous voice of Tyrell say, “Yes. She does.”
Autumn’s head spun around so fast, she just knew she’d wake up tomorrow morning with a sore neck.
Tyrell’s eyes darted between his girlfriend and the man with the boulder-size shoulders. “I’ve been looking all over for you, babe.” He pointed towards the tent. “What are you doing out here when there’s a party going on in there?”
L.J. could tell by the frosty expression on Autumn’s face that she wasn’t happy to see the wiry man towering over them. Standing, which displayed his height advantage over the resentful-looking brother, L.J. extended his right hand, saying, “I’m Peter’s best friend, L.J.”
Tyrell buried his hands in his camel-colored slacks. He was obviously annoyed with the situation and seemed bent on creating a scene.
Autumn stood. Folding her hands neatly in front of her, she took a deep breath and locked eyes with Tyrell. He had some nerve showing up at the party after leaving her to roast in the sweltering afternoon heat. She had every right to give him a whip of her tongue, but she restrained from telling him to get out of her face. Tyrell lived for drama the way strippers lived for dollar bills, and if she wasn’t careful, things could get real ugly real fast.
Tyrell was champing on his gum as though it was his first meal of the day, and the sound grated on Autumn’s nerves in the process. “What do you want, Tyrell?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded. “I came to see you.”
“Oh, really?” Autumn didn’t have to pretend surprise. She was astonished. “I thought you were in bed with a hangover. Isn’t that why you couldn’t come help me this afternoon?”
Tyrell’s face twisted in rage. He should have known this was coming. Autumn had to make everything he did or didn’t do a federal case. “Please excuse us.” He clutched her arm, and dragged her down the driveway. “Quit trying to embarrass me,” he ordered. “This is not the time or the place for one of your bitch sessions, Autumn.”
L.J. watched from a distance, trying to cool the anger boiling inside him. He had no business interfering, but he didn’t like the way this Tyrell character was manhandling Autumn. If her ex didn’t release his grip on her soon, he was going to make it his business. But when Peter emerged from the aperture of the tent and waved him over, L.J. had no choice but to leave the bickering lovebirds alone and return inside.
“Get your hands off of me!” Autumn snarled, struggling to free herself. But it was a losing battle. It was as if her arm was caught in a vise and no matter how hard she tugged or pulled, she couldn’t break free.
“I will once you calm the heck down.” Tyrell couldn’t believe her. Not only was she wearing a funky attitude but she was carrying on like a child. He had stumbled out of bed, thrown on some clean clothes and driven all the way to the Grisbey estate to see her. And what did he find? Her drooling all over some bodybuilder. “Why the hell are you airing our business in the street? And what’s going on with you and what’s-his-face?”
Tyrell loosened his grip, but didn’t let go of her arm. “So, you’ve been messing around on me? You’ve been fooling around with that dumbbell?” He was puffing heavily and the veins in his clenched hands were popping.
Autumn wanted to hate him, but her heart wouldn’t let her. Just because things hadn’t worked out between them didn’t mean they had to be enemies. Things hadn’t been all bad.
Being with Tyrell had taught her some valuable life lessons, and she thanked him for the experiences he had given her. He made no apologies for his grandiose lifestyle and encouraged those around him to live life to the fullest. And that’s exactly what she was going to do, just not with him.
Autumn set her voice in the tone she reserved for when people pushed her too far. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I just met L.J. today. Furthermore, you and I aren’t together so how can I be cheating on you?”
“Is it my fault I was sick?” he challenged. Tyrell watched her eyes darken several shades and could almost see steam blowing out of her ears. It was time to wave the white flag. She was angry and upset and arguing with her wouldn’t help matters any. He stepped into the space that separated them, and traced her jawline with his index finger. “I’m sorry you’re upset, babe but I’m only human.” His face softened as he worked his slightly chapped lips into his most charming smile “I messed up, okay? But I promise to do better next time. You know I care about you, don’t you? You mean everything to me, that’s why I came here tonight. I wanted to see you.”
Autumn examined Tyrell’s face. Remorse was absent and his eyes were blank. Tyrell’s half-hearted apology did nothing to salve her bruised feelings. If anything, it made her angrier.
He thinks he can just waltz in here, slap a stupid smile on his face and things will be fine! Do I ever have news for him! Autumn tilted her head to the side, as if she was staring up at the sky. “I’ve had my fill of your tired promises, Tyrell. I deserve more than what you’ve been giving me and your lukewarm apologies mean nothing to me anymore. It’s time for us to go our separate ways.” Her voice was firm, but she couldn’t completely restrain the quiver in her voice.
“Things have been over between us for some time now, but for some reason I was scared to let you go. I’m not scared anymore, Tyrell.” She waited a few seconds for her words to sink in. “I hope in time we can try being friends again.” Autumn didn’t mean it, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
Tyrell’s face registered surprise. “What are you saying?” he asked, a note of skepticism in his voice. “Are you saying this is it? It’s over for once and all? Is that what you’re telling me?”
How much clearer could she be? Did he want her to write it on her forehead in neon pink marker? “Tyrell. It’s over.” Autumn knew she was doing the right thing, but it didn’t lessen the pain she felt in her heart.
Tyrell reached for Autumn, but she drew back. Mumbling under his breath, he drew a hand over his contorted face and then through his wavy hair.
Autumn watched his phoney smile wane as shock gave way to anger. She stepped back. There was no telling what he might do. She had seen him lose control so many times before, nothing he said or did would surprise her.
Tyrell threw his hands up in the air. “Fine Autumn, if that’s the way you want it, but don’t come crying to me when you realize you’ve made a mistake.” After a brief pause, he spoke again. His voice was chillingly cold. “I knew I should have cut you loose a long time ago. I don’t know what I was thinking wasting my time with a frigid stuck-up chick like you when I have swimsuit models blowing up my phone.” He stomped over to his glistening black Porsche Boxer, and gripped the door handle. “You’ll come back to me. You always do, “he vowed, sliding inside the driver’s seat. He brought the muted engine to life, and it roared loud enough to wake up all the residents on the block. He ripped out of the estate and into the bleak night, leaving Autumn in a cloud of swirling dust.
Chapter 4
Ten minutes later, Autumn was back in the tent, trying to keep up with the mindless chatter.
Darcee Kingsway, a willowy, pencil-thin Asian woman standing next to her, gulped down the rest of her drink and then waved over the crinkly-haired waitress standing nearby. Darcee dumped her empty wine flute on the tray the waitress held and helped herself to another. “So, I understand your parents are vacationing in Martinique. When are they due back?”
“I have no idea. They keep pushing back their return date, but I suspect it’ll be sometime next month.”
Darcee twisted the dazzling rhinestone bracelet on her left wrist, and in a tone that was more alcohol-induced than natural, said, “Vance bought me this when we went to Martinique for our first wedding anniversary. Since then, we’ve been to the island at least a dozen times. It’s the place to go to be properly spoiled and pampered, you know. We always stay at the Ilet Oscar, a tiny private island offshore from the town of Le Francois. The enormous nineteenth-century house is simply delightful! It’s staffed with a full-time, live-in maid, cook, masseuse and boatman. Would you believe the house has a twenty-acre tropical reserve and…”
Why didn’t I just go home? Autumn wondered. After watching Tyrell disappear down the block, she had spent some time outside gathering her wits about her. She wasn’t upset that Tyrell had yelled at her. She was ticked off that he’d made a fool of her in front of L.J. Sure, he was a virtual stranger, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed being humiliated. She had returned to the party with the sole purpose of apologizing to him, but after scouring the tent and spotting him huddled in a tiny, dark corner with Shante, her interest had died faster than quick-dry nail polish.
Autumn stole a glance at the attractive twosome, wishing she had some nerve gas to throw into their cozy semicircle. Her eyebrows wrinkled in displeasure. Shante was all over him like chocolate icing on a brownie. She looked on, utterly appalled, as the man-eater pulled out all the stops. Licked her crimson-painted lips. Twirled strands of her “hair” around her middle finger. And swayed seductively to the Ricky Martin song playing.
Women like that made Autumn sick. Trained in nothing, Shante Patterson had recently cashed in her trust fund and put the money to good use upgrading her physical assets. Her breasts had been enhanced, her eyes had been permanently eyelined and liposuction had erased her love handles. L.J. didn’t seem like the type to go for such a plastic-looking woman. But what did she know about what he, or any other man wanted for that matter?
“Come dance with me.”
Autumn peeked over her shoulder to ascertain who the throaty voice belonged to.
Omar winked at her, then his mouth broke out into an ear-to-ear smile. “I want to see your moves, Sexy Lady.”
Autumn returned his smile. Omar, the youngest of eight groomsmen and Peter’s cousin, had been flirting with her all night. She couldn’t help teasing him. “Are you sure? Because it looks like you could use a break.”
His smoky-gray suit jacket was nowhere to be found and his short-sleeved, olive-green dress shirt was drenched in sweat. He pulled out a white, crumpled handkerchief from his front pocket and wiped frantically to keep up with the sweat trickling from his neck-length dreadlocks and down his face. “Oh, I’m ready for you,” he came back with. “I have been waiting to get you out on that dance floor all night.”
Autumn opened her mouth to say maybe later, but caught herself. Why not? What she’d had with Tyrell was over. Done. Finished. To be no more. There was no use throwing away the rest of the night because she had a case of the blahs. She could analyze the demise of their relationship tomorrow. It was Melissa’s engagement party and she wasn’t about to let what had transpired with Tyrell put a damper on her night. She allowed Omar to pull her to her feet. Lobbing her shawl over her chair, she said, “All right, Omar, you asked for it. Let’s go!”
Omar wasn’t nearly as good a dancer as L.J., but he held his own on the dance floor. After working up a sweat to several radio-friendly songs, Autumn needed a break. Her feet were on fire. She didn’t know what had possessed her to dance in her cute shoes. Her heels earned high marks in the style and fashion department, but when it came to comfort they scored zero.
Autumn strained her voice so she could be heard over the music. “I need a break, Omar. I’m going to sit this one out, but I’ll see you later.” She turned to leave, but he grabbed her around the waist and whirled her around as though they were
ballroom dancing.
“Just one more dance,” he begged as an updated version of a once-popular Temptations song filled the room. “Then we’ll sit.”
He had been singing the same tune for the last fifteen minutes. “Sorry, Omar, but I’m all danced out.” She untied his arms from around her waist and shouldered her way through the throng of gyrating dancers.
“Okay. But when you get your second wind, I’m first in line!” Omar called after her. But the music was so loud and the crowd so thick, Autumn could barely hear him.
Autumn was midway across the floor when she spotted Yvette, Shante and L.J. at “her” table. She thought of finding somewhere else to sit, but remembered her purse and shawl were on her chair.
She noticed L.J. eyeing her, and straightened her shoulders. Disregarding the stabbing pain shooting up her calves, she lifted her head high and put more hip into her walk. By the time she reached the table, L.J. was back in conversation with Shante, and her feet were screaming to be set free.
“Hey, girl.” Yvette swatted Autumn’s thighs playfully, then slapped a brand-new dollar bill into her palm. “Hot stuff! You looked real good out there, shaking your little money-maker for all it’s worth.”
Autumn burst out laughing. She was so loud, Shante and L.J. glanced over at her. Autumn ignored them, but quieted down. “I may have looked good, but my feet were bawling for relief,” she confessed, taking the vacant chair to Yvette’s right. Autumn slipped off her sandals, bent down and inconspicuously massaged her aching soles. The first thing she was going to do when she got home was bury the killer sandals in the back of her closet.
Three songs later, Omar shuffled over to their table and plunked down next to L.J. “Anyone interested in going to the Calypso Café? The party’ll be winding down soon, but the night’s still young, y’all!”
