by Pamela Yaye
He chuckled at the sound of her laughter.
It was mind-boggling to him that a woman with Autumn’s beauty and warm personality was still single. With her cashmere-soft skin, arresting brown eyes and bountiful curves, Autumn Nicholson was every man’s fantasy. L.J. couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at his mouth. Maybe, just maybe if he played his cards right, she would make some of his dreams come true tonight.
The clack of her sex-me-up heels on the hardwood floor jarred L.J. out of his musings. Digging his hands into his pants pocket as though he was fishing for change, he tried not to gawk. But he was mesmerized. Autumn’s silver necklace, which held a dainty cross pendant at its end, was nestled between her full breasts and causing him extreme physical discomfort. His erection pressed against the zipper of his wool slacks and try as he might, he couldn’t get his body to cooperate.
The phone rang, and Autumn gave L.J. a half smile. “It’s probably Melissa,” she explained. She rolled her eyes in annoyance, and he chuckled. She picked up the phone. “Hello?”
A pause, and then, “What do you want?”
L.J. picked up the Upscale magazine in the middle of the coffee table. Jamie Foxx grinned on the cover. Flipping through the magazine, he wondered who was cutting into his time with Autumn. His head shot up. The tone of her voice was sharp, almost hateful.
“I don’t care what you want anymore,” she snapped.
It didn’t take a Jeopardy champion to figure out who was on the other end of the phone. It was Tyrell. L.J. had to give it to the brother. He was more persistent than a Jehovah’s Witness on a Saturday morning.
L.J.’s ears strained to hear what she was saying. Autumn was giving her ex a tongue-lashing and he wished he had a set of pom-poms to properly cheer her on. The desire to leap off the couch was stronger than a Florida tidal wave. L.J. pretended to be reading an article about ten ways to save more money, but he was listening to everything Autumn was saying.
“No, I don’t want you to call me back in an hour.” Autumn had to get off the phone. L.J. was waiting and their dinner was getting cold. She glanced over her shoulder at her dinner guest and mouthed the word sorry. Then she said in a cool and detached tone of voice, “I’ve moved on and you should do the same, Tyrell.”
She slowly returned the cordless phone to its base and smoothed her hands over her flushed cheeks. “Sorry about that.”
L.J. took in her crinkled forehead and somber mood. He put the magazine down, and stood. “I’ve been told I’m a terrific listener, Autumn. So if there’s anything you’d like to talk about, I’m here,” he offered, a slight smile on his face.
Autumn was comforted by his offer. “I’ll be all right once I get some food into me. Speaking of food, dinner’s ready.” She took him by the hand and led him through the patio doors.
“Are you expecting more people?” L.J. asked when they reached the wrap-around balcony. Autumn had gone all out for their date and cooked enough food for a week’s worth of leftovers. “There’s enough food here to feed the entire bridal party!” L.J. teased, shifting his eyes back and forth from Autumn to the overdressed table. He felt better when he saw the stress lines on her face fade away. “Are you sure you cooked all this? Because everything looks too good to eat.” He raised an eyebrow. “To be honest, this food looks restaurant-made. You ordered this stuff and then put it on your china to pass it off as homemade, right?”
Autumn’s girlish laughter floated around the balcony.
L.J. couldn’t help teasing her some more. “Did you really prepare this spread? The barbecue chicken? Caesar salad? The shepherd’s pie?”
Autumn nodded bashfully, a beatific smile overwhelming her mouth.
Pleased with his heartfelt praise, she sat down on the chair he held out for her. His hands brushed across her back and lingered. She shuddered at his touch and quickly reached for the bottle of wine. She needed something strong to settle her mind and distract her from the sensual scent of his cologne. It was hypnotic.
L.J. took the bottle from her hands, and filled their wineglasses.
Autumn watched him. Her eyes spread wide, her mouth parted in surprise. She obviously wasn’t the only one feeling the heat that had passed between them. Either L.J. kept his wallet in the front of his pants, or he had felt it, too. The tiny muscles around his eyes were twitching and if she didn’t know better she would think that he was mentally undressing her. Lust clouded his face; passion seemed to engulf his body. He was watching her, holding her captive with his eyes. Autumn sipped some of the mellow liquid in her glass. Then she put her shaky hands in her lap.
Once their plates were full and the harmonious sounds of Wynton Marsalis’s trumpet was serenading them, they eased into a conversation as light and easy as the music. When the topic moved from movies to their respective families, Autumn asked him about growing up in a military household. He had told her bits and pieces about his childhood, but she wanted to know more. Their childhoods couldn’t have been more different.
“My Pops was old-school all the way. I had chores from the time I could crawl.” L.J. chuckled at the aghast expression on Autumn face. “I couldn’t open my mouth to ask my dad for a new pair of sneakers unless there was a hole in the ones I was wearing. And you don’t want to know how he used to discipline me.” L.J. paused reflectively. He took a drink of his wine, and tried to sort his thoughts. “I’d never admit it to my old man, but I know his tough-love approach made me who I am today. I’ll never take anything for granted, because I know what it’s like to go without.”
Autumn didn’t know if she was delving into uncharitable territory by asking about his mother, so asked, “Do you think your father’s strictness and aggression eventually drove your mother away? I mean, that would be hard for any woman to deal with. I’d definitely have a hard time being married to a man who ran his household like the basic training.”
L.J. shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. My birth mom had issues. She got pregnant with me in her second year of film school and had no choice but to drop out and get married. Lorna always had dreams of being an actress or a producer and I think she felt like she’d settled into a life she didn’t truly want. She left us the year I turned six and my old man raised me single-handedly until he met Maureen.”
“Do you have a relationship with your mom now?”
L.J. shook his head.
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it? It doesn’t bother her or she would have come to look for me. My father and I never heard from her again after she moved to California. She never once picked up the phone to tell us where she was or to wish me a happy birthday. No cards, not letters, no nothing.” L.J. didn’t realize he had raised his voice until Autumn reached over and squeezed his hand. “To be honest, I never missed her,” he continued a moment later. “My life actually got better the day she left. There was no more yelling. No more angry words. No more fighting.”
L.J. had never spoken this candidly with anyone about his birth mother. Not even with Peter. But the assurance in Autumn’s eyes, and the concern behind her questions made him feel that he could tell her anything. “I was thrilled when Maureen moved in with us and became my new mom. She was the best. She used to pick me up from school, read me scary bedtime stories and sneak me money when my dad wasn’t looking.” He chuckled, and added, “She still does.”
“It wasn’t hard adjusting to a woman being in your father’s life?”
“Not at all. I had my Pops, a brand-new mom and eventually a baby sister to play with. Every now and then I’d wonder where Lorna was and if she has a new family, but that was always the extent of my interest. She’s been dead to me ever since June the fifth, 1974, and I don’t care where she is or what she’s doing.”
Autumn’s eyes were open wide. She was in no position to cast judgment. Her relationship with her mother was far from perfect, but she couldn’t believe that L.J. could be so indifferent to the woman who had given him
life. “But, she’s your mom. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“She’s not my mother, Autumn. She’s just the woman who carried me for nine months and gave birth to me, but that’s the extent of it. It takes a lot more than changing a year’s worth of diapers to be a mother.” When her lips parted in disbelief, his eyebrows crinkled. L.J. didn’t want Autumn to think he was irritated with her, so he gave her a small smile. In a soft voice, he explained, “Maureen Katherine Saunders is my mother. Always has been, always will be. She was there to put bandages on my scabby knees, wipe my tears when the kids used to pick on me and never let me forget I was her number-one boy.”
“And Lorna?”
“I don’t care about her. She’s not my mom.”
Autumn guessed that L.J. wasn’t telling her the truth, but she was willing to let it go. Besides, she wasn’t a psychologist and he wasn’t her patient. They were enjoying dinner and she wanted to keep it that way. “Maureen sounds like a tremendous woman.”
L.J. smiled for the first time in minutes. “She is and she’d love you, Autumn. I know it.”
“Think so?”
“What’s not to love? You’re incredibly smart and witty and you get my zany sense of humor, just like Mom’s.” L.J. winked. “And you have a host of other stellar qualities, too.”
“Oh, I do?” Autumn asked, happy to play along. “Go on, enlighten me.”
L.J. propped his elbows up on the table, and lowered his voice as if he was about to divulge a secret. “For starters, you have the sweetest lips I’ve ever tasted. They’re like two luscious strawberries, just waiting to be devoured. You have a wonderful laugh and a pretty smile. But it’s your evocative, come-and-get-me walk which makes me forget my name and where I’m from.”
Autumn’s utensils smacked the plate.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asked, a touch of humor in his question.
On the outside, she looked annoyed, but inside her stomach was doing somersaults to the rhythm of his laughter. Just knowing she had that kind of effect on him made her want L.J. even more. Her nipples hardened underneath her top, aching to be stroked. She could feel the moisture building up between her legs. She had never wanted a man this badly. Well, maybe one other time. Back in the day, she’d had a monster-size crush on Al B. Sure. Throughout her freshman year at Caldwell Junior High, she’d tell anyone who would listen that he was her future husband. But when the R&B crooner’s popularity and album sales took a dive the following year, her devotion had waned, too. But that wouldn’t be the case with L.J. This was not some teenage infatuation. This had the makings of the real thing.
L.J. was wearing the sinfulest of grins. He was having the time of his life watching Autumn squirm around in her seat. Ready to up the stakes, he “accidentally” brushed his fingers across her arm. “You’re gorgeous, Autumn.”
Matching his lascivious gaze, she swept her braids off her shoulders. His eyes promised a passion-filled night and her already ignited body was primed and rearing to go. Instead of slinking around the table and making herself comfortable on his lap, she tasted her wine. “Tell me more about your position with the Hawks. It must be…”
L.J. smiled. The woman sitting across from him was take-your-breath-away beautiful, but she had no idea how attractive she was. None whatsoever. Her innocence made her even more appealing. And right now, all he wanted to do was crush her to his chest and find pure rapture in her honey-sweet lips. Caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t hear Autumn calling his name.
“Hello?”
L.J. blinked. “Sorry. I was… My mind was somewhere else.”
Autumn hid her smirk behind her napkin. “Are you all right? You look warm. Do you need me to get you something? An aspirin? An ice pack, maybe?”
“No, no. I couldn’t be better,” he maintained. “Just thirsty.” He refilled his water glass, and chugged it down in mere seconds. “Go on. I’m listening.”
The power had shifted. L.J. was unraveling right before her eyes and it was a huge turn-on. Autumn fingered the pendant on her silver chain, her hand dangling at the apex of her breasts. She curved her shoulders in, and licked her lips mischievously. She was giving him an unrestricted view of her black lace bra and hoped he liked what he saw. When his light-brown eyes popped open, Autumn had to restrain herself from laughing out loud. L.J. wanted her so badly, he couldn’t keep his tongue in his mouth. “I asked how you ended up in basketball,” she asked nonchalantly.
L.J. eyeballed Autumn from across the table. His heart was bouncing around in his chest like a Ping-Pong ball, and when she tossed her hair over her shoulder again, his jaw went lose. She was toying with him. The beguiling sound of her voice, the subtle hair toss and her scintillating eyes were all a part of her shameless ploy to break him down. Autumn was proving to him that when it came to his feelings for her, he had no control.
L.J. picked up his glass. He organized his thoughts as the cool mellow liquid streamed down his throat. “One of my university buddies told me the Hawks were hiring, so I sent in my résumé and kept my fingers and toes crossed. I was hired to work in the marketing department and I’ve been busting my tail for the last six years. I love everything about basketball and being paid to promote a sport I love. It’s a dream come true. I would have worked for free just to have the opportunity to meet living legends like Julius Erving, Larry Bird and His Airiness himself,” L.J. explained, the admiration clear in his voice. “I have the best damn job in the world. I basically throw a party every night. I find the entertainment, organize the performances and sit back with the rest of the arena and take in the show. I work ten-hour days leading up to a home game, and sometimes even fall asleep at my desk, but there’s nothing more rewarding than seeing eighteen thousand delirious fans on their feet, cheering on the home team.”
“Sounds like you love what you do.”
“I do, but I am considering a change of scenery. I’ve had a handful of job offers from other struggling franchises and I’d love to have a hand in turning things around at any one of them, especially the New York Knicks. Despite their losing records the last few seasons, they’re the most powerful and successful organization in the league.”
“Any offers from Washington yet? Because Lord knows those sorry Wizards could use some help. Would you ever consider moving here?”
L. J. wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Do you want the long or short answer? Because when I start discussing my gripes with D.C., I usually get carried away.”
Autumn’s smile slipped a notch. “How could you not love D.C.? The Black community’s roots here date all the way back to the Civil War. Our contributions to art, music, literature, business and even sports have been nothing short of extraordinary. We’ve made more strides than any other ethnic group here and things can only get better for us as a people.”
“Point taken,” L.J. conceded, “but the majority of people living in D.C. aren’t even natives. Thousands of African-Americans come here to jump-start their careers, but most newcomers don’t stay around long enough to put down any roots. After a few years of the cutthroat corporate world, they quickly move on to greener pastures. In the past, Washington did have a rich history and was home for some of the most insightful and revolutionary African-Americans who ever lived, but these days the city doesn’t have much to offer us.”
Autumn cleared her throat. Making her arms comfortable under her chest, she came back with, “Well as a Washington native, I have to disagree. I’ve traveled extensively and very few cities measure up to D.C. The mix of cultures living and working together and the fast-paced yet tranquil lifestyle makes Washington the best of both worlds. It’s definitely one of the most fascinating cities in the world.”
L.J. wasn’t swayed. “All I’m saying is this town isn’t for me. The wealthy are pretentious snobs who don’t know a thing about life outside their gated mansions. At least in New York City the people are real. The rich, poor and everyone in between fight to get on the subway, eat at the s
ame delis and rub shoulders at the hottest nightclubs. And Manhattan is just a hop and a skip away from the boogie-down Bronx. I just find the people in D.C. seriously lacking, that’s all. I’d rather stay in the simple-minded South than make Washington my home.”
Autumn suddenly felt the way she had back at the Hamiltons’ kitchen table. L.J. had basically echoed everything his uncle had said to her, but had stopped short of calling her a snob. And just as on that evening almost two weeks ago, Autumn was pissed. Infuriated was more like it. To avoid further conversation on the topic, she cast her eyes on the grayish-blue sky. The weather seemed to reflect what she was feeling inside. The sun had made a quick retreat as rain clouds rolled in, and the wind had picked up. The mellifluous sound of rippling water and the quixotic crooning of Wynton’s trumpet cast a blanket of serenity over them, despite the strained mood.
L.J.’s unfounded comments about Washington and its residents made Autumn fighting mad. Who did he think he was, trashing her city? Living in Washington was a hundred times better than living in Vicksburg, Mississippi, and Atlanta, too, for that matter. Why am I tripping? So what if he hates Washington? Autumn reasoned. Truth be told, she hated it, too, sometimes. The crime. The parking. The ostentatious lifestyle. Besides, it didn’t really matter what L.J. thought. They weren’t embarking on a romance or even a spring fling. They were just hanging out. This time next month he would be back in his wonderful Atlanta and she would be nothing more than a memory. And so would he. They would return to their own worlds, the precious time they had spent together nothing more than an interlude in their lives. But instead of feeling comforted by her thoughts, she felt worse. The thought of not seeing his mischievous smile or hearing his rumbling voice made Autumn’s heart still. She enjoyed his company and was starting to get used to him being around.
Why did I have to go off on a tangent and bad-mouth her city? L.J. thought, eyeing her from across the table. Why didn’t I keep my big mouth shut? Not only had he forced her to retreat, but he had spoiled what was supposed to be a romantic evening. He wanted to apologize, but his pride wouldn’t let him. Apologize for what? You’ve done nothing wrong. L.J. pondered a long time over what to do next. He wanted to see Autumn smile again, and he didn’t want the evening to end like this.
