Other People's Business

by Pamela Yaye

  L.J. cradled his head in his palms. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying the events of Wednesday night. It was as if he was punishing himself. He gazed back up at the sky, pondering, for what seemed like the hundredth time, whether or not Autumn had told him the truth. The ability to breathe had escaped him when those three magic words had come tumbling out of her mouth. Terror had gripped his heart in a chokehold and his tongue had gone limp in his mouth. She had stared up at him with hope in her eyes, but he hadn’t been courageous enough to return the sentiment. Not because he didn’t feel the same way, but because he didn’t believe the validity of her declaration.

  Ten minutes earlier, she’d been rubbing up against her ex, laughing at his asinine jokes, and only God knew where things would have gone if he hadn’t interrupted them. And his suspicions and jealousy weren’t the only roadblocks to their dreams of happily ever after. L.J. was staying in Atlanta. He wouldn’t be relocating after all. He had been late getting to Autumn’s apartment that night because his meeting with the Knick’s owner had run longer than he had anticipated. Midway through signing the contracts, L.J. had gotten such a severe case of cold feet he had had to excuse himself. Outside in the hallway, he’d come to terms with his true feelings. He didn’t want the job, and more significantly, he didn’t want to leave Atlanta. He had built a comfortable life there and wasn’t prepared to start from scratch. Maybe somewhere down the road, but for right now, he was staying put.

  And, as much as he loved Autumn, he couldn’t sign those contracts. In hindsight, he knew it was his feelings for her that had led him to that interview and several others in the first place.

  L.J. had met with the general managers of the Boston Celtics, the Indiana Pacers, the Cleveland Cavaliers and her much-loved Washington Wizards, but at the end of the day, he realized he couldn’t sacrifice his happiness for anyone. Not even the woman he loved. And he loved Autumn with all he had.

  He didn’t know when or how it had happened, but he had fallen in love. But had he been given a choice? How could any man withstand Autumn’s infectious zest for life, her sugarcane-sweet personality and crushing sensuality? Not to mention those big, almond-shape eyes, that flawless toffee-brown complexion and the suggestive way she shook her hips when she was out on the dance floor. It was those characteristics and so many more, which left him out of breath each and every time he saw her, including this afternoon at Calvary Baptist Church.

  Autumn had sauntered through the church’s oak doors looking like a runway model in a black, knee-length trumpet skirt and an off-the-shoulder indigo blouse. Flanked by the other bridesmaids, she had stepped past him and cast evil eyes his way. She had greeted the other groomsmen affably, even stopping to give Omar a peck on the cheek, but her smile had fallen as soon as their eyes met. Without as much as a hello, she had brushed past him into the church.

  “What was all that about?” Omar had asked. “She looked at you like you were that unrecognizable stuff on the bottoms of her shoes. What’s going on? You two have a lovers’ quarrel?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he’d lied.

  Calvin had chimed in, “Looks like a lot more than nothing, if you ask me.”

  “Well, no one asked you. You’re a happily married man, Calvin, so why don’t you go check on your wife and stay out of my business?”

  “Don’t be mad at me ’cause she dumped you,” Calvin had shot back before escaping inside the church.

  “So, what’s really going on?” Omar had asked, once they were alone. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing’ because I know what tension looks like and it’s all up and through here.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Why is Autumn mad at you?”

  “Leave it alone, Omar.”

  The two men moved into the church and stood at the back pew, watching the woman who was the focus of their conversation.

  Grunting, Omar shook his head in awe. “Shoot, if my girl looked half as bad as Autumn does, I would’ve popped the question a long time ago. Look at her,” he’d instructed. “She’s the total package. Classy, ambitious, vivacious and sexy, too.”

  Despite L.J.’s mood, he had chuckled heartily. “Quit lusting, Omar. You’re in the house of the Lord.”

  Autumn had turned out an Oscar-worthy performance throughout the rehearsal. She had moved around the church with ease and grace, chatting with all those in attendance. Everyone except him. She had been loquacious and hyper for most of the afternoon, but like an X-ray machine, L.J. had seen through her act. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and when someone made a joke, she laughed a little too loudly and a little too long.

  “I don’t know what you did, but you need to apologize,” Omar had warned when the rehearsal broke up. “A woman like Autumn is hard to find. Trust me, I know.”

  Omar hadn’t told him anything new. Autumn Nicholson was the quintessence of everything he wanted in a woman. She far exceeded what he was looking for in a partner, and a lover and a wife. She let him be the man and didn’t fight to be in control like most of his past girlfriends. Women like Autumn were a dying breed in the new millennium and L.J. seriously doubted he would ever find someone like her again. She was the answer to his unwritten personal ad. Single, educated, financially stable man seeks a gorgeous woman who is independent, family-orientated and sexy as hell. Must know her way around the kitchen and the bedroom.

  L.J. didn’t know why he was out here sky-gazing. He had a rehearsal dinner to get ready for. He had to shave, shower and iron his white linen suit. But L.J. made no moves for the patio doors. Autumn overwhelmed his thoughts. She’d changed his way of thinking and put a different complexion on his nonexistent relationship with his birth mom. He had never once considered what it had taken Lorna to leave until Autumn had planted the seed in his head. And for the first time ever, he was interested in hearing her side of the story.

  L.J. swiped his empty bottle of vodka off the glass table. The first trickles of rain dotted his face. I just have to forget her, he asserted. Move on and leave Autumn Nicholson in the past where she belongs. They’d had a steamy fling and now it was over. Just like the Chicago Bulls’ dynasty. The Cosby Show. And the days when a women used to wait for a man to make the first move. Life went on and that’s what he was going do. Move on. In forty-eight hours he’d be back home, and his affair with Autumn would be pushed to the furthest part of his mind and before he knew what had happened, she’d be a distant memory.

  Banishing the image of her in that sizzling mint-green bikini from his mind, he strode into the house and headed for the guest bedroom. Their tryst was over and the best thing he could do for them both was to move on. He passed the mirror mounted on the wall, and read the uncertainty in his deep-brown eyes. If Autumn was just a fling, why does it hurt being without her? And more importantly, why do I feel like I lost the best thing that has ever happened to me?

  Autumn curled the tendrils dangling loosely around her face, then fixed them into place with so much hair spray, she had a serious coughing fit. She cleared the thin haze in front of her face with her hands. Applying vanilla-scented mist behind her ears, she examined herself in the full-length mirror. The canary-yellow strapless dress was sure to turn heads.

  She knew it would swing one head in particular.

  Yellow just happened to be L.J.’s favorite color, and if he had given her a quarter every time he had said she had the best pair of legs he’d ever seen, she could’ve quit her job and moved to the Caribbean.

  Autumn smiled back at her reflection. She wondered what L.J. would think when he saw her. Would he think she looked beautiful and come talk to her? Or would he remain indifferent and unfriendly, as he’d been that afternoon at the church? She practiced her for-L.J.-only smile. She closed her mouth a fraction and narrowed her eyes slightly. She didn’t want to appear too responsive when she saw him. After all, she was still upset with him. Not because he didn’t want to be with her, but because he hadn’t been man enough to tell her why.


  Autumn smoothed her hands over her dress, imagining her hands belonged to L.J. She closed her eyes, slanting her head to the right. She sighed, her mind flitting off to another time and place. It’s over, Autumn. Let it go. He’s not coming back. She forced her eyes open. It was true. They were over. Any thoughts she’d had of a possible reunion with him had been erased that afternoon at the church rehearsal. He had acted as though she was invisible. Autumn could handle him not wanting her anymore, but she needed to know why. She wanted answers because things just didn’t make sense. One minute they were happy in love, making love all over her apartment and spending every waking minute together and the next thing she knew, he was pulling a Tyrell. She hadn’t heard from him since Wednesday and he’d made no attempt to talk to her that afternoon. She’d missed his playfulness, the colorful banter they often shared and the light intimate touches she’d come to expect whenever he was around. He’d treated her like a stranger, barely acknowledging her presence, which had hurt more than anything he could have ever said.

  The sound of the doorbell brought Autumn out of her musings. She snatched her beaded clutch purse off the dresser and bolted down the hall. When she opened the door a half minute later and Yvette pretended to faint, her face broke out into a wide smile. “I take it you like the dress?”

  “Do. I. Ever. Wow, Autumn! You look gorgeous!” Yvette motioned with her index finger for Autumn to turn around, and when she obliged, Yvette whistled. “I guess I don’t have to ask who you bought the dress for.”

  “No, you don’t.” Then, “This dress was a gift to myself. It caught my eye as I passed Nordstrom’s last night and I decided it was just what I needed to lift my spirits.” When Yvette raised an eyebrow and glued a hand to her hip, Autumn added, “I bought it for me. Honestly!”

  “And to teach L.J. a lesson, right? Show him what he’s missing?”

  “No,” she lied, a smile finding its way on her lips. “Me buying this dress has nothing to do with him. Nothing at all.”

  “Whatever you say, Autumn, but that dress has show-him-what-he-is-missing written all over it, and a hint of bring-that-man-to-his-knees.”

  Autumn giggled. That was exactly what she was going for. She handed Yvette her overnight bag and picked up the plastic bags of food propped against the shoe rack. “I hope I’m not forgetting anything,” she said, peeking into one of the three bags.

  Yvette broke out into a sly smile. “If we need anything, we can always get it at the hotel. Besides, everyone’s gonna be too busy groping the strippers to think about food. I hope you remembered to book thick beefy men and not thin lanky boys for tonight’s festivities. Because it’s not a bachelorette party unless there’s half-naked men gyrating in the face of the bride-to-be and her desperate girlfriends.”

  “Yvette, you’re going to be devastated then. Melissa forbade Peter from going to a nasty strip club with the guys and in return she had to agree to a stripper-less bachelorette party. I think they may have even drawn up a contract,” Autumn finished with a light chuckle. “Peter doesn’t know about tonight, so don’t mention the party when he’s around. Melissa thinks he’ll show up with the groomsmen if they learn it’s a lingerie shower.”

  Yvette eyes went saucer-wide. She looked as though she had just learned her four-bedroom house had burned to the ground. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Autumn shook her head.

  “So, what are we going to do all night?”

  “It’s a lingerie shower, Yvette. You’ve been to one of those before. We’ll watch the bride-to-be open some naughty gifts, force her to try them on, play a round or two of Truth or Dare and eat cake and ice cream until we’re sick.”

  Yvette pretended to yawn. “That’ll be fun.” She clutched her friend’s arm, her fingers digging into her flesh. “Come on, Autumn. It’s not too late for us to book a dancer. We can flip through the phone book and order one before we go.” Yvette was halfway down the hall before Autumn caught up to her and pulled her back out the door.

  “Sometimes it’s hard for me to believe you’re a wife and a mother.”

  “Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I can’t look…or touch…or sample.”

  Autumn laughed. “You’re too much, Yvette.” She slipped her evening wrap across her shoulders, turned off the lights and locked the door behind her.

  Chapter 18

  Victor Taung, the manager of the Golden Chopsticks, bowed when Autumn and Yvette entered his restaurant. The short, rail-thin man tucked an orchid behind their ears and then led them through the lounge area.

  Thai art decorated the walls, umbrellas hung high from the arched ceiling and waitresses wore red Chinese dresses. To the right was a sleek, oversized room that held the sushi bar and a narrow hallway led to an outdoor lounge. The Asian-themed music playing gently in the background created a classy ambiance and peaceful setting.

  Mr. Taung had taken exceptional care in planning tonight’s rehearsal dinner. Stan and Janet Grisbey had been eating at his restaurant for years and he regarded them as friends. That was why he had sealed off the second floor for the party and had worked tirelessly all afternoon to ensure everything was perfect for Melissa and her fiancé, Peter.

  Victor opened the door to the Phuket banquet room and ushered the two women inside. He bowed again, wished them a pleasant evening and left.

  Gold candelabrums bathed the elaborately decorated room in soft light, and handwritten place cards were set in the middle of each gold-rimmed plate. Orchids and plastic palm trees created an exotic haven that would transport guests to a faraway Asian land.

  L.J. was telling a group of male guests about the first time he’d met Michael Jordan, when he caught sight of Autumn. It was as if the sun had entered the room, warming everyone in attendance. He broke off in midsentence, his tongue practically dangling out of his mouth, but no one noticed. His once-riveted audience had been lured away by the arresting-looking woman in the canary-yellow gown and dazzling smile. She wore silver shoulder-grazing earrings that glimmered underneath the glass chandeliers. Only one word was needed to describe her—gorgeous.

  He took a fleeting look around the room and to his surprise and annoyance, everyone—from pimple-faced busboys to middle-aged married men—was eyeballing his girl. The body-hugging dress coupled with the flower tucked behind her right ear made Autumn look terribly exotic. Her dress revealed an immodest amount of cleavage and her shapely legs seemed to go on forever.

  Bedazzled, L.J. stared. Autumn looked nothing short of spectacular and his eyes couldn’t get enough. Glossed lips, warm eyes, curves in all the right places. L.J. wanted to go to her. He wanted to make her understand why they couldn’t pursue a relationship but he didn’t move. A battle was waging between his heart and his mind and for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do.

  To the outside world Autumn might have been radiating beauty and poise, but inside, she was a basket of nerves. Her impression of calm was an illusion, and, as she trailed behind Yvette, she prayed to God she wouldn’t slip on the slick granite floors.

  “Your man is staring at you so hard he can probably see what you ate for lunch,” Yvette joked. “That brother wants you bad.”

  Good. Serves him right, Autumn thought with a great sense of satisfaction. “He can look all he wants. I don’t care.”

  “Yes, you do. That’s why you’re going to smile and play nice when he comes over here.”

  Autumn sucked her teeth. “Yeah, right. And what makes you so sure he’s going to come over here and talk to me?”

  “Because he’s headed this way.”

  “Really?”

  Yvette motioned with her head. “Here he comes.”

  Autumn turned around, a forced smile on her lips.

  “Gotcha!” Yvette chuckled until she drew the attention of the people at surrounding tables. She covered her mouth with one hand and pointed at Autumn with the other. “You should have seen your face! I thought you were going to pass out.” She laughe
d some more and then advised her girlfriend to get something cold to drink. Yvette signaled to a waiter. “Autumn, you have nothing to stress about tonight. It’s a party, so relax and have some fun!”

  Easier said than done, Autumn thought, accepting the glass of wineYvette shoved into her hand. How am I supposed to relax when L.J.’s watching me with the eyes of a hawk?

  But it turned out Yvette was right. She had nothing to worry about. The atmosphere of the rehearsal dinner was light and festive. Autumn mingled with the other guests without ever coming face to face with L.J. She received compliment after compliment on her dress and after a few glasses of wine she felt like the belle of the ball. She moved around the tables, posing for pictures and chatting with the extended families of the bride and groom. And by the time she arrived at her parents’ table, she had forgotten that she was supposed to be mourning the loss of a lover.

  Howard stood and kissed his daughter on both cheeks. “I was wondering who the stunning lady floating around the room was. You look like a million bucks, baby girl.”

  “That dress is too tight,” Evelyn reproached, her eyes sweeping over her daughter from head to toe. “But the cut is flattering and the color is all the rage this season. Good choice overall, dear.”

  Autumn didn’t care that her mother had just given her a back-handed compliment. She was just thankful they were speaking again. She hadn’t seen much of her parents since the evening they had stopped by. Whenever she called them, all they wanted to know was if she had broken things off with that boy from Mississippi. Autumn wasn’t going to volunteer any information, but if they asked her about L.J. she would tell the truth. But only if they asked.

  Howard was back to his usual self, joking and teasing and it was clear that Evelyn was on her best behavior. She didn’t mention Tyrell or L.J., or point out all the eligible well-dressed bachelors meandering around the room.