by Tiya Rayne
The Partners and Senior Partners at Piers thought I was insane for passing up the type of money they were paying to branch out on my own. But my Papa once told me that if you want to be successful in the world, you have to follow your passion, not a paycheck. I knew I could do it on my own.
Eight years later, I’m the queen of Consulting. Charlice Rose consulting is the most successful consulting firm in the South East. My people and I travel all over the world fixing companies. I specialize in marketing, but I have people under me that can fix anything from management, to leadership, to training. My business has afforded me lots of amenities, and one of the things I like to do with my money, is spoil the woman on the other end of this phone.
“Charlice-Rose Jefferies, you are a mess. I knew when Eli came over this morning before church something was going on. This is too much.”
For the last few months Grams had been complaining about her stove. I’ve offered to buy her a new one a hundred times, just like I’ve wanted to buy her a bigger house—she refuses every time. So instead of buying her a bigger house, I paid off the one she has, and a few years ago, had it remolded by adding an extra bathroom and enlarging their master suit.
Today she came home from church to a brand-new stove and refrigerator. It’s all Subzero brand. The stainless-steel gas stove had six gas burners and built in double ovens. The refrigerator has French doors with a touch screen computer system on the front that can help you track your grocery list and everything else. It’s probably all too much for Sadie Jefferies, but she deserved it and so much more.
“Grams, I want you to have the best. Plus, if it wasn’t for all your good food, I would probably starve to death.” I joked only slightly.
Her boisterous laugh came through my speakers. “You’re right about that. You need to be over here learning how to cook. One day you’re going to settle down and find a man that you will need to cook for. Not to mention when you have me some great-grandbabies.”
I flinched at the mention of kids.
“Now, Sadie,” I said, using her real name jokingly, “you know I’m never getting married.”
“Duck.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname I received as a child. “You need to settle down and start a family and stop spending your money on us old folks. We don’t want you wasting your hard-earned money on us.”
“Speak for yourself, woman.” I heard my grandfather’s voice in the background.
I laughed at his outburst.
I never had a chance to be a daddy’s girl. I wouldn’t know my biological father if the man was standing in front of me. Knowing Nita, she probably doesn’t know him either. My Papa has always been the man in my life, and I am truly a Grand-daddy’s girl.
I could imagine him climbing in his recliner in nothing but his tank top, worn jeans, and white knee socks. All my life, Papa has been the same. The moment he was home for the day, he changed out of his clothes and climbed in his recliner to watch TV. He worked all his life, never getting higher than a fourth-grade education. He retired from the Brick House when he was still in his late twenties, and later retired from working for the highway department when he was in his late fifties. Now he spends his days fishing, working around the house, and in that recliner—like I want him to.
“Hey, Papa!” I said loud enough for him to hear me.
“Hey, little Duck! You on your way?”
“Yeah, I’m stopping to pick up my contribution to dinner first.”
“Is it one of those strawberry cheesecakes from that factory?”
I chuckled. “It can be.”
“You spoil him.” Grams’ voice finally cut back in on the phone. “The new pastor couldn’t even go pray for Sarah Hurst today, because your grandfather kept going on and on about his new fishing boat you got him. He even invited the man and his wife to the house for dinner today, just so he could show it off.”
“Sarah Hurst is always needing prayer. Pastor will have plenty of chances to pray for her.”
“Charles Howard Jefferies, you know you ain’t right.” My grandma tried to scold her husband, but her voice told me she wasn’t really mad.
I laughed through the phone at their antics.
If I could find a man like Charles Jefferies, I would probably settle down, but I was positive my grandmother had found the only man worth loving.
“You still there?” Grams asked.
The sound of the TV faded in the background which let me know she was walking away from my grandfather.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
Grams sighed. “Your mother called me today.”
Now I know why she walked away from Papa. Not only are my grandfather and I a lot alike, we both have the same dislike for Nita. Grams was the only one in the family that still spoke to her.
“Grams, you know I don’t care…”
“I don’t know what happened between you and your mother. Lord knows neither of you will tell me, but it’s time for ya’ll to bury this.”
This was a conversation I hated to have with Grams. She still believed there was a chance for Nita and I to make amends, but our relationship was irreparable. Nothing could ever fix it.
“Now, I know Nita has her ways, but I really believe she’s changing. She’s been talking like she has more sense lately. She even asked about you and mentioned coming home for a visit soon. She also been goin’ to church a lot.”
I knew Nita better than anyone. When I was seven, she dated a Muslim named Rasheed. She had both of us cutting off meat and wearing head wraps. At nine, she dated Daniel who was Rastafarian. She started smoking weed, growing her own herbs, and even tried to dread her hair. So I knew my next question was valid.
“Let me guess, is the new man a deacon or a minister?”
Grams sighed again on the other end of the phone. “A bishop.”
I laughed so hard tears formed in my eyes.
“Grams, the only person Nita is fooling is herself. As soon as this man’s money runs out, or he gets hip to the type of woman she really is, she will be back to her old ways.”
“I don’t think he has any money. I had to send her….” She trailed off knowing she’d said too much.
“Tell me you aren’t sending that woman the money I give you.”
“You watch your tone, young lady. Now I have my own money aside from what you give me. And if you have a problem with how I spend the money you give me, then you don’t need to give me any more money.”
I pulled up to a red light behind a huge Dodge truck that looked like it was in dire need of a wash. I ran my hands through my wavy chin length asymmetrical bob.
I loved Grams, but she has a weak spot for her kids. Nita being her biggest weakness.
“I’m sorry, Grams. I just don’t want you to spend your money on someone that will never appreciate you.”
That was Nita’s biggest problem. She believed everyone owed her something, and Grams and Papa were horrible about letting her have her way. Not even my other aunts could get away with the shit she did. It wasn’t until I was in undergrad that Papa finally changed his opinion. However, Sadie was still blind to Nita.
“A mother’s job is always thankless, Duck. You will learn that when you have your own kids one day.” There’s that word again.
The cars in front of me started to move, so I removed my foot off the brakes to roll forward.
“Your Uncle Martin called me too…”
I lost focus. I didn’t notice the dirty truck in front of me had slammed on brakes. My reaction was too slow, and I hit the back of the truck.
“FUCK!” I shouted.
“Charlice, what was that noise? And why are you cursing? Are you alright?”
“Grams, I have to go. I’ll see you in a few.”
I clicked the button on the steering wheel to disconnect the call, then followed the truck into the median and cut my car off.
Shit, this wasn’t how I wanted to spend my Sunday. First that asshole Cliff, and now a damn car wreck.
A burly white man stepped down out of the truck. A large black dog stuck its head out of the driver’s side door, but the man said something, and the dog backed away. The white guy turned towards me. He was huge, what I would call husky, but in that still hot way. He’s also tall, maybe 6’ 6”. His black v-neck t-shirt fit snugly around his huge biceps and outlined the definition in his pecks. His thighs looked like tree trunks in his dark wash denim pants and that dick print was lovely.
Damn! I could only imagine if it was that big in denim, what it would look like in some sweatpants. He folded his arms across his broad chest impatiently when it took me too long to climb out of my car.
I couldn’t believe I’d been sitting in this car checking this man out. I’m a connoisseur of fine men. It doesn’t matter the race, I just enjoy the sight of them. However, my legs would only spread for a brother. I was once with a Hispanic guy, but that was the furthest I’ve strayed from black men. So even though I have taken the time to check out this man’s body, there won’t be any hanky panky with him.
I opened my car door and climbed out.
“I’m so sorry!” I apologized right away. “No matter the damages, I’ll pay for it.”
The burly man’s eyes dropped down from my face to my feet then back up again in slow motion.
Was he checking me out?
His arms lowered down to his sides as his eyes, they were stunning hazel by the way, met mine again.
“No worries, ma’am. It was just an accident.” A sexy southern accent fell from his mouth. His tongue then ran over his bottom lip—a plump lip that’s slightly bigger than his top and stood out amongst his dark blonde full facial beard.
“Besides, there isn’t much damage to my truck. Although your hood may need to be touched up.”
I looked at both cars. I didn’t realize how much trouble it would be to take my eyes off the man. Those deep-set eyes and thick bushy eyebrows was causing a sister to be distracted.
He was right though, his truck looked untouched, and other than a little bit of paint transfer and scratches, my Audi was fine.
“Still, you could be hurt. Do you need me to call an ambulance?”
He smiled, and fuck me, my pussy got wet. That smile was sexy as hell. Even under all that facial hair, I could tell he had deep dimples the way his cheeks dipped.
“It will take a little more than a little tap on my fender to hurt me. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a big man.”
I tried to fight it, but I couldn’t. At his words, my eyes dipped down to that lovely dick print in his pants. When my eyes looked back up at him, I could tell he knew exactly what I was thinking about. He smirked, and my brown skin flamed with embarrassment.
“I guess you’re right. At least let me follow you to a mechanic so I can make sure there are no damages.”
Despite the usual protocol where I would try to deny all fault and get out of paying this guy anything, I knew I was in the wrong, and this could have ended a lot worse than a little paint transfer.
“It’s all good, gorgeous. But if you want to make it up to me, how about coffee?”
Ok, white boy! I recognized him trying to take his shot. I admired his confidence, but I wasn’t interested.
“Nice try, but I’m actually headed somewhere. I will leave you my card though.”
I headed back to my car where I searched out a card. When I turned around to hand him the card, he was right up on me, and his eyes were obviously staring at my ass. I smiled, I thought white men liked their women small in the hips and larger up top. The way his eyes stared at me, led me to believe he was an ass man. Lord knows I have enough of it. I was average in the tits department, but I have ass and hips for days.
I handed over my card, and he read it. I waited for that spark to appear in his eyes like it does every man that read my card and realized I’m THAT Charlice Rose. However, his eyes didn’t spark, and he didn’t even look at the card long enough to read anything but my name.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Charlice Jefferies. I’m Jackson Keller and just because we can’t get that coffee today doesn’t mean it can’t still happen. There is no expiration date to my offer.”
His persistence and charm made me smile. I liked him, I If he were black, I might’ve even made a detour to my dinner plans and fucked him in the back of his pickup.
“Tell me something, Jackson Keller, do you always hit on the women that you’ve run into?”
That gorgeous smile lit up his face again as he folded his arms over his chest. “Not always. And remember, you ran into the back of me, so maybe this is your M.O. Do you always run into the back of an unsuspecting man, then climb out of your little car looking beautiful just to turn down his coffee date?”
I laughed and placed my hands on my hips.
“You’ve discovered my plot,” I said jokingly. “Now you’ll tell everyone, and it won’t work again.”
The smile remained on his face as he continued to stare at me. Those stunning hazel eyes crinkled around the edges as he took me in. From the spark in those hazel eyes, I could tell he liked what he saw.
I dressed down today in a plaid button-down Rails Hunter Shirt, AG brand skinny jeans, and Christian Louboutin pointy toe pumps. I didn’t even do a full make-up, just a little foundation to cover up the mark that asshole left, some eye liner, and mascara. It was empowering to know that he’d been checking for me and I wasn’t even at my best.
When he took longer than expected to respond, I lifted a curious brow at him.
“You sure you’re ok?” I asked with a smirk.
“I’d be much better if you took me up on my offer.”
Was he really still trying this?
I liked him, I’ll admit, but it didn’t change anything.
“Call me if you find any problems with your truck, Jackson Keller,” I announced as I backed away from him and climbed into my car.
“I’m a very persistent man, Ms. Jefferies, especially when I see something I like.” He hit me with that smile and wink. I was definitely going to have to change these damp panties.
“I can appreciate a little game of cat and mouse. Maybe I’ll see you around, Mr. Keller.”
I had no business encouraging this man. Especially when I had no intentions on anything coming from it, but he’s been the first guy since high school to catch and hold my attention on a level more than just the carnal. Don’t get me wrong, the lust was definitely there. A big country white guy had actually hit on me. That was different.
THREE
After stopping by the Cheesecake Factory for my Papa’s favorite dessert, I arrived at 4200 Oak Moore Drive—my childhood home.
After my fender bender with Jackson, I was running a little behind. I noticed that most of my family was already there.
As soon as I climbed out of my car with the cheesecake, a black Chevy Impala pulled up behind me. Its music blasted out the car even with all the windows up. I watched as Eli got out the passenger side of the car, tugging up his pants. He gave the driver a quick handshake before closing the door. The car didn’t drive off, instead the driver window rolled down.
“Heyyyyy, Duck?” Douglas, my cousin’s home boy, called out the window to me, dragging out the word hey.
I smiled as I waved. “Hey, Dougie!”
“When you gon’ marry me, girl? You know I’m saving myself for you.”
“Boy, Bye!”
I laughed as Eli threw up his middle finger to his friend. Dougie waved one last time before reminding Eli to bring him a plate and drove off. I was still laughing when Eli approached me. He reached out for my face with a scowl on his. It wasn’t until his finger glided over the bruise on my cheek that I realized what he was doing.
“Do I need to handle a muthafucker?” he asked, and he was all serious now.
I wasn’t lying when I told Cliff that I had a cousin that would help me dispose of his body. Hell, if I told him to, Eli would finish the job I started, but my cousin had come a long way from
his troubled past, and I was determined to make sure he never went back.
“No worry, cousin. You know Papa taught me well. That .38 helped him see the error of his ways.” I cracked a smile.
It took a minute for the smile to appear on his face, but eventually, it did. He dropped his hand away from my cheek.
“As long as you handled it.”
“I did. Now, let’s talk about why you got Dougie dropping you off. Where is your car?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “The hooptie finally put me down. It needs a new transmission, I don’t think it’s worth putting the money into it to get it fixed.”
“Come on, Eli. Why didn’t you tell me? I told you I would get you a new car.”
He shook his head before I could finish my sentence. “I don’t need you spending any more money on me. You gave me a job and helped me get an apartment, I don’t want to be in further debt with you.”
“I don’t have a ledger where I’m keeping track. You know I got your back. I don’t do this shit for you to pay me back, Eli.”
“You do enough, little cousin. You don’t need to buy me a new car. I’ll figure it out, but as of right now, I have a way to and from work. Ok?”
I smiled, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Ok, I won’t buy you a new car.”
He nodded.
“I’ll just give you one of mine,” I said before strolling off.
He couldn’t refute me if I wasn’t there to listen.
“Damn it, Duck!” Eli shouted behind me.
I ignored him as I walked through the door to my grandparents’ house. The smell of soul food hit me almost as hard as the sound of a house full of hollering kids.
The front door opened to the wide foyer. Hardwood floors ran through most of the house with the exception of the carpeted bedrooms. Off from the long foyer on the right was the formal living room.
Even at the age of thirty-three, I could count on one hand how many times I’d been in that room. Grams didn’t play about her formal living room. All the furniture was encased in plastic that had turned from clear to brown. That room was only used for special occasions, like if the pastor came to visit, or when Eli’s parole officer used to come over.
