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Other People's Business

Page 9

by Pamela Yaye


  “Well, at least let me walk you out.”

  Autumn pressed a hand to his chest. “Don’t bother.” She couldn’t resist shooting Mr. Hamilton a searing look. “I’ve been told I should see myself out.” With that, Autumn spun on her heels and fled from the kitchen as though the devil himself was chasing after her.

  For a woman who claims to be exhausted, she sure moves quickly, L.J. thought. When he heard the front door slam, he turned his attention back to his aunt and uncle. There was more to Autumn’s departure than just fatigue. The sheepish look on his uncle’s face and the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach confirmed his worst fears. Someone had said something to hurt Autumn’s feelings. He tucked his arms under his chest and squared his eyes on his uncle Stu. “What did you do?”

  Fannie returned to her seat. She draped her napkin back over her stick-thin legs and picked up her fork. In the twenty-seven years she had been married to Stu, she had never seen him treat someone with such disdain. It was as if he had a personal vendetta against Autumn or something. But why? She was a genial and sweet young woman who obviously had a lot going for her. How could Stu not like her? Stabbing a meatball with her fork, Fannie glanced at her nephew and then shifted her gaze to her husband. “Go on, Stu. Tell him. Tell L.J. how you insulted her and made her cry.”

  The distant buzz of a lawnmower and the voracious barking of her neighbor’s pit bull stirred Autumn from sleep hours before she was ready. Sun flowed into the bedroom, warming the comfortably decorated space, and birds whistled spring’s song. Making a mental note to talk to the landlord again about her neighbor’s dog, aptly named Killer, Autumn forced her eyes open. It wasn’t even eight o’clock, but the sun was out in full force and the noise pollution was implausibly high.

  Autumn threw off her duvet, swung her feet out of the bed and jammed her feet into her favorite pair of slippers. She yawned until tears filled her eyes, then in a watery haze dragged herself into her en-suite bathroom. She did a series of stretches while she waited for the tub to fill with warm water. A bubble bath was just what she needed to revive her sleep-deprived body. She had planned on going to church, but she just didn’t have the energy this morning. Besides, she had chores waiting, and the sooner she got started, the sooner she could prop her feet up on the coffee table and unwind. She might even spring for a hot-stone massage at the Ritz-Carlton Boutique Spa. It would cost a small fortune, but pampering was well deserved after all she had been through in the last twenty-four hours.

  When Autumn had arrived home last night, she was too wired to go to sleep. Unable to shake what Mr. Hamilton had said, and needing an outlet for her fury, she had climbed on her stationary bike and pedaled away her anger. Forty minutes later, she had worked up a sweat, come to a decision about what to do about her attraction to L.J., taken a quick shower and gone to bed.

  “Was that you clawing at the door, Petals?” Autumn asked when she emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later. She scooped up her month-old Persian kitten and cradled her in her arms. Autumn hadn’t been able to resist buying the blue-eyed kitten after seeing her in a pet-store window last Saturday while shopping with Yvette. She had wanted to get a cat for months, but had held off because Tyrell was allergic to fluffy creatures. Now that he was gone, Autumn could fill her condo with cats if she wanted to.

  “Ready for some breakfast, baby? Come on, let’s go get you some breakfast.”

  Once Petals had her food, Autumn picked up the cordless phone and dialed the number to her parents’ hotel in Martinique.

  When the call connected, a high-pitched, French-accented voice wished her a good morning. “La Bateliere Hotel. Celeste at your service, how may I help you?”

  “Can you put me through to suite seventy-two, please?” Autumn swung open the fridge, put eggs, bread, milk and butter on the kitchen counter and turned on the stove.

  “Very well, madame. Please hold while I connect you to your party.”

  “Thank you.” Autumn cracked two eggs into the frying pan, humming along with the jazz playing over the line. The phone rang several times before returning to the front desk.

  The receptionist asked, “Would you like me to try the room again?”

  “No. No, that’s all right.”

  “Would you care to leave a message for the Nicholsons, madame?”

  “Yes. Please ask them to call home.”

  “I’ll see to it that they get the message.”

  “Thank you.”

  Autumn spread butter on her lightly toasted wheat bread, poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down at the kitchen table. She hadn’t even picked up her fork when the phone rang. Leave it to Mom to call right back. She must think there’s a problem or some catastrophic emergency.

  Autumn abandoned her breakfast and hurried back into the kitchen.

  Evelyn nagged constantly and drove her insane with her needless stresses, but whenever Autumn told her to chill out, she would say, “All good mothers worry. I’m just doing my job.”

  Autumn snatched up the receiver before the answering machine could click on. “Hey, Mom. You didn’t have to call back. There’s no emergency. I just called to see how you and Dad were doing.” Instead of her mother’s delicate voice, she heard a deep chuckle.

  “I know I could’ve called later but I couldn’t wait to hear your voice.”

  The phone slipped out of Autumn’s hand, but she caught it before it hit the tile floor. She was acting like the target of the creepy caller in all those Scream movies. Wiping her sweaty palms on her cotton shorts, she took a long, calming, deep breath. Ambling into the living room, she asked, “How did you get my number?” But Autumn knew the answer to her question before the last word was out of her mouth. There was only one person—well, two actually, but one was out of the country—insolent enough to give out her unlisted number without checking with her first: Melissa Renee Grisbey.

  “Good morning to you, too. I’m fine. Thanks for asking. How are you?” L.J. asked.

  “I didn’t mean to be rude,” Autumn mumbled. “I just didn’t expect to pick up the phone and hear you laughing on the other end of the line.” Petals crept into the living room and nipped at Autumn’s heels. “Stop that!”

  “Stop what?”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” L.J. asked.

  “No, Petals startled me.”

  “Who’s Petals?”

  “My kitten.”

  “Cute name.” L.J. wasted no time getting to the reason behind his early-morning call. “I’m sorry about what happened last night. I shouldn’t have stayed on the phone with Peter as long as I did. That was discourteous and inconsiderate. But what my uncle said to you was way out of line.” L.J. paused. He didn’t want Autumn to think he was defending Stu, but he didn’t want her to think his uncle was a jerk, either. “Stu’s a terrific guy. He’s like a second father to me and when you get to know him better you’ll see that he’s just a big ol’ teddy bear.”

  More like a prickly porcupine, she thought. Mr. Hamilton was astoundingly rude, and Autumn couldn’t figure out why someone as good-humored and loveable as Fannie would want to be his wife.

  The drive home had helped Autumn sort out her feelings, and her late-night workout had cleared out the cobwebs in her mind. She had to stay away from L.J. From now on, she was going to keep her interactions with him strictly wedding-related. No more double dates to the movies. No more nightcaps. And most importantly, no more kisses. She was keeping her distance from him for the duration of his stay in Washington. It was unfortunate, because she had really taken to Fannie. “Well, it doesn’t matter how terrific Stu is, because that was my first and last visit to his house.”

  “Don’t say that, Autumn. I like you and I want to get to know you better. I thought I made that perfectly clear last night.”

  It wasn’t a pot-banging surprise to Autumn that L.J. was interested in her, but she was taken aback by his confession. This was
all so sudden. Two weeks ago he was a stranger who had fixed her flat tire, and now she knew what it felt like to be in his arms and how sweet his lips tasted.

  Autumn would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about what would happen if they gave into their mutual attraction. If that kiss were any indication, it would be something intense. Fierce. Mind-blowing. But after butting heads with his uncle Stu, she knew that hooking up with L.J. would be emotional suicide. They were from different worlds and although they had shared interests, their differences would eventually pull them apart. And aside from their varied backgrounds, the timing couldn’t be more wrong. She was fresh out of a relationship and she wasn’t interested in jumping into another one. If that was even what L.J. was looking for. He could just be looking for someone to keep his bed warm for the weeks he was in D.C. And if that was the case, he should turn his attention to Shante; casual sex and no-strings-attached relationships were her forte.

  “My uncle wasn’t speaking on my behalf,” L.J. explained, cutting into her thoughts. “He…um, has some issues with the rich and…”

  Tell me something I don’t know.

  “Stu grew up poorer than poor. He had to drop out of high school when he was only sixteen,” L.J. began. “When his father died of heart failure, he became the man of the house and helped his mom raise his younger siblings. She worked a handful of odd jobs, mostly low-paying, long hours. My uncle pretty much raised himself.”

  Autumn didn’t care if the man was raised by wolves; it didn’t give him the right to attack her verbally. Mr. Hamilton was an inverted snob who sneered at anyone and anything associated with wealth. He was hard-hearted and callous and Autumn prayed to God she would never have to lay eyes on the craggy-faced man again.

  “He has always resented the well-off and I think seeing someone of your obvious social standing may have triggered some hard memories. Don’t take offence to his running off at the mouth. That’s just the way he is. He insulted Peter the first time he met him, too. But now they get along great.” When silence settled over the line, L.J. searched for something else to say. He didn’t want Autumn harboring any hard feelings or forming an unjust opinion of him because of his uncle’s tirade. “He’ll warm up to you,” L.J. insisted. “It takes him some time, that’s all.”

  Autumn didn’t feel better learning Stu had a history of insulting people; if anything, it made her more nervous about seeing him again.

  “My Aunt Fannie could start an I-love-Autumn fan club with all the kind things she had to say about you. I don’t know what you did, but she’s in love with you. As a matter of fact, she was the one who urged me to call. She wants to have you over for dinner one evening next week.”

  “I can’t,” Autumn said. “I have project reports, summaries, a presentation to get ready for and…”

  L.J. didn’t believe her. No one spent all day and all night at their office. But he didn’t call her on it. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to see his uncle again. Stu wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. “Since you’re not open to coming here, I’ll just have to take you out. I feel responsible for what happened and I want to make it up to you, Autumn.”

  The tenderness in his voice pulled at her emotions. There was no doubt in her mind that L.J.’s generous invitation had less to do with responsibility and more to do with last night’s kiss and grope in the middle of the Hamiltons’ living room. Guilt washed over her. It was her fault that L.J. thought they had something going. She was sending out more mixed signals than a broken-down traffic light and confusing them both in the process. “About what happened last night. It was a—”

  “Don’t,” L.J. warned, his tone firm. “The kiss was not a mistake.” He had expected Autumn to downplay what happened between them, but it clearly still bothered him to hear her say the words. They had connected last night, and he wasn’t about to let her disparage what had taken place.

  “I’m not interested in casual sex,” Autumn said, surprising them both with her bluntness, “so if that’s what you’re after, you’re wasting your time.”

  “Well, am I glad we got that out of the way. I was worried you’d take offence when I told you I just wanted to be friends.” Autumn’s rich effervescent laugh made him smile.

  “You’re crazy, L.J.”

  “About you.” Then, “Are you going to let me take you out, or do I have to camp outside your door until you change your mind?”

  Autumn didn’t doubt he would. L.J. didn’t strike her as the type of man to be put off easily, and from what she had seen so far, he was as determined as he was handsome. He had organized that double date to the movies, swayed her to come inside for that drink and somehow had scored her number from Melissa. Yeah, L.J. Saunders had skills. Autumn was still mulling over his offer when he said, “If you can give me three good reasons why we shouldn’t go out I won’t ask you out again.”

  “Just three?” she joked. Autumn stretched out on the couch, propped her head against a mound of cushions and then fired off the first of many. “Number one, your Uncle Stu hates me.”

  “But my Aunt Fannie adores you. Next.”

  Autumn paused. She hadn’t expected his response to come so quick. Unfazed by his obvious self-confidence, she moved on to reason number two. “I just got out of a relationship.”

  “I’m not asking you to get into another one.”

  He had her there. She fumbled for another reason, the seconds ticking away on her grandfather clock mocking her. “I don’t have time to go out. Most evenings I’m at the office until the cleaning staff arrives and—”

  “Then we’ll have lunch,” he proposed, interrupting her. L.J. thought out loud, “Man, I’ve never worked this hard to convince a woman to let me spend my money on her! Yvette was right when she said I had my work cut out for me.”

  Autumn sat up rod-straight. “And what else did Ms. I-Can’t-Mind-My-Own-Business have to say?”

  “Not much,” he replied casually, wondering if his slip of the tongue was going to cause a rift between the two friends. “While you were busting a move out on the dance floor, I asked Yvette if she thought you’d go out with me, and she said she’d keep me in her prayers. When I asked why, she told me it takes a lot to persuade you to step out of your box and try something new. Like me.” His attempt to be funny failed, and the uncomfortable silence that had beleaguered their conversation earlier returned.

  Autumn punched one of the cushions. Yvette and Melissa were sticking their noses where they didn’t belong. Why did they think she couldn’t manage her life? So far, she had done a fitting job. She had a university degree under her belt, worked at the most prestigious accountancy company in all of Washington and had earned the position on her own merit. She could be spontaneous if the mood was right, and she tried new things all the time. Okay, maybe not all of the time, but I’m not as cautious as Yvette and Melissa are making me out to be.

  Autumn bounded off the couch. Stamping back and forth in front of the fireplace, she thought, I’m outgoing and exciting and I have lots going for me… I don’t need Melissa and Yvette’s help… I’ll show them just how fun and spontaneous I can be. She would go out with L.J. and have all the fun she could stand. No second-guessing herself. No following the rules. No playing it safe.

  Autumn would never admit this to anyone, but she was tired of playing by the rules. Playing it safe had never gotten her anywhere, except alone on her couch on a Friday night watching reruns of The Cosby Show. She was itching for some excitement and L.J. was just the man to give it to her. For the first time ever, Autumn was going to live in the beauty of the moment. No more planning. No more worrying. Just living. Her mind was made up, but the nagging voice at the back of her head pushed her to ask, “What do you have in mind for this date?”

  “Nothing fancy, just dinner at a nice restaurant. And if it makes you feel better, we won’t even call it a date. We’ll call it two people eating at the same table.”

  When L.J. heard Autumn’s flirty lau
gh, a wide smile settled over his mouth. Her laugh was almost musical and floated over the phone line like a seventies love song. He wandered into the kitchen as he spoke. “What more do I have to do to persuade you to go out with me?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Really?”

  Silence settled over the line.

  L.J. couldn’t believe how hard he had had to work to convince Autumn to go out with him. If his friends in Atlanta could see him now, they’d hang their heads in shame. He had never gone to such measures to track a woman down, but his pride had taken a backseat when he remembered the taste of Autumn’s lips and the feel of her soft skin underneath his fingertips.

  He opened the fridge and poured himself a glass of orange juice before he headed outdoors. He stepped out on the patio and sat down on the steps. The weather had changed, and there was a nip in the air, not unusual for spring. L.J. felt the wind on his face, heard trees rustling, and in the tranquility, considered his feelings for Autumn. Maybe her skepticism was a sign that he should back off. Autumn Nicholson wasn’t the only beautiful woman in the city. He wasn’t vain or big-headed by any means, but there were plenty of single women who would love his attention. So, if Autumn wasn’t interested, he needed to quit chasing her and move on to someone else. Yes, that’s what he was going to do. Back off. But then, he thought of something else that might help her warm to him. “I’m a really nice guy, Autumn. If you don’t believe me, ask Fannie. She’ll be happy to vouch for me.”

  “Okay, okay, you win,” Autumn said between giggles. “But you better bring your gold card ’cause I’m not a light eater!”

  L.J. joined in her laughter. Just when he thought he had Autumn all figured out, she went off in a different direction. She was shy one minute, flirtatious the next, but always warm and sweet.

  Pen in hand, he listened carefully as Autumn gave him directions to her house. She pointed out nearby landmarks to help him find his way, and even offered to send him a map via e-mail. L.J. had a foggy idea where she lived, but made a mental note to look it up on the Internet when they got off the phone. With plans set firmly in place for Tuesday night, they moved on to discuss the movie they had seen last night and their plans for the remainder of the day. Autumn could have spent the rest of the morning on the phone, but when L.J.’s other line beeped, he ended the call.

 

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