Other People's Business

An awkward silence stretched into minutes. Then they returned to their individual workouts. Autumn lay flat on her back at one end of the mat doing sit-ups; Melissa alternated between lunges and jumping jacks. The next half-hour passed quickly and when Melissa shut off the DVD player and announced she was going to take a shower, Autumn was glad to see her go.

Autumn was slow getting to her feet. Stretching her arms high in the air, she rolled her head in short semicircles. She was trying not to take exception to what Melissa had said, but her feelings were hurt. Bruised. Deep down, she knew her best friend hadn’t set out to put her down, but that was exactly how she felt. The people she trusted most, the same people who were supposed to have her back, were pointing fingers at her. Laughing at her. Talking behind her back. Questions whirled around her head as her neck rotated. Who did Melissa think she was and where did she get off calling her a settler? Just because she’s getting married and Peter puts up with her drama doesn’t mean she’s a relationship guru, Autumn raged, kicking the dark-blue exercise ball halfway across the room.

Autumn was happy. Blissful even. More than satisfied with the life she was living. She had a complaint or two, but didn’t everybody? Fine, she wasn’t the most spontaneous person and it was true she shied away from trying new things, but that didn’t mean she was one girdle away from a nursing home. An old maid? Please. That was pure nonsense. Just because Melissa was unfulfilled with life and craved more adventure, didn’t mean she did, too. Autumn shoved Melissa’s off-sided comments to the farthest part of her mind, gave the exercise ball another good boot and marched into the guest bathroom. Cranking the cold-water dial to full blast, Autumn reaffirmed what she already knew to be true: she was doing just fine. Wonderful even. And no one was going to tell her otherwise.

Forty-five minutes later, Melissa and Autumn were showered, changed and eating lunch out on the patio. The sun had finally broken free of the clouds and hung high in the sky like a Goodyear Blimp. Autumn rubbed her forehead. They hadn’t been outside but ten minutes, and she was sweating like someone who’d been toiling in the sun since daybreak. Fanning herself with her hand, she drank from her glass of fruit punch. As predicted, the afternoon was turning out to be a scorcher and when the sun got this intense, there was only one place Autumn wanted to be—inside.

The elderly housekeeper refilled her empty glass and wiped down the sticky table surface with a wet cloth. Autumn smiled. “Thanks, Eliza.”

“You’re welcome Ms. Autumn. Now, can I interest either of you in some fresh fruit? I have sliced cantaloupe, water-melon, pineapple and guava.”

“That would be nice.” Melissa finished off her juice in one big gulp and deposited the empty glass on Eliza’s already-full tray. The round, fair-skinned Black woman promised to be back shortly and returned inside. “So, what do you have planned for the rest of the day? It would be a sin to waste such a sunny day indoors. This is ideal beach weather.”

Says who? Autumn knew exactly how she was going to spend the remainder of the day: inside her apartment with the air-conditioning on full blast. But Autumn wasn’t about to tell Melissa that. After the you’re-turning-into-an-old-maid-who-will-never-get-a-man speech, she was hesitant to share her afternoon plans. “I have some errands to do and some work—”

Melissa smacked the table with her right hand and startled Autumn. “What?”

“See, that’s exactly what I was talking about.” She shook her head, curls grazing her cheekbones and tumbling all over her face. “It’s a glorious afternoon and instead of doing something fun like going to the beach or for a stroll in the park you’re going to sit in your apartment. One day—” Melissa broke off, her face sparkling brighter than Fourth of July fireworks. She mindlessly fluffed her hair and then adjusted her shell-pink bikini top.

What the hell? Bewildered, Autumn peeked over her shoulder. Strolling across the grass wearing wide smiles and with tennis rackets in their hands were Peter and L.J. The two men could pass for brothers in their wrinkle-free T-shirts, knee-length black shorts and dark, rounded sunglasses. Ultra-casual and laid-back, L.J. looked more like the Adonis who had changed her flat tire and less like the ebony hunk she remembered from the Grisbey party. He was a shade above six feet, but with his long limbs and bulging muscles he seemed much taller.

Autumn snatched her towel from the back of her chair. If she’d known they were stopping by she would have put on a more respectable bikini—not a suit that barely covered her chest and served up a healthy dose of her behind. When Melissa had called that morning to invite her over, she had said that her parents were in New York and they would have the house to themselves. She’d neglected to mention that Peter and his best friend would be coming over. “Why didn’t you tell me we were having company?”

“Slipped my mind?”

Autumn wanted to heave Melissa into the pool. She didn’t believe for a second her best friend “forgot.” Melissa had a penchant for details and the sharpest memory of anyone she knew. This was no slip of the mind. It was a hook-up if Autumn had ever seen one. “If I’d known he was coming over, I wouldn’t have put this on,” Autumn said as she plucked at her barely there bikini top. “I can’t walk around in this. He’s going to think I’m—”

“Stop your bellyaching, Autumn. You look tasty.” Melissa licked her lips in an exaggerated fashion. “Relax. Take a breath. Better yet, get up and go for a swim. The water looks cool.”

“Are you out of your mind? I can’t prance around in high-heels and a teeny-weeny bikini. He’s going to think I’m showing off. Or trying to impress him.”

Autumn’s stomach muscles tensed. L.J. was closing in on her. The familiar scent of his overwhelming cologne brought her mind back to their sexy dance. She could still feel the warmth of his hands as he’d clutched her waist. The memory of his tender embrace transported her mind and body to another place.

Autumn fixed her eyes on the charming, soft-spoken man who had had a recurring role in her daydreams for the past fourteen days. L.J. looked like a man who’d just spent the last hour under the skilled hands of a masseuse rather than playing tennis. He moved with total ease. His voice carried across the lawn with buoyancy. Autumn pretended not to be touched by his presence, but she was. A bit too touched. Before she could properly get herself together, the two men were at the table offering greetings. She took a deep breath. Slipping on her sunglasses, she donned her ready-for-anything smile.

Melissa welcomed Peter with a tight hug and a kiss that lasted long enough to make L.J. and Autumn feel invisible. Greeting L.J. with the smile she reserved for her big-money clients, Melissa turned to Autumn. “Look who’s here, girl. You remember L.J., don’t you?”

Autumn suppressed an eye roll. What a stupid question. Of course she remembered him! How could she forget the man who’d rescued her on the highway and stirred all sorts of passions within? L.J.’s penetrating gaze unnerved her and the stifling heat didn’t help, either. The weather and intolerable humidity made it hard for Autumn to think, let alone formulate words and organize them into coherent sentences. She was sitting at the table as good as naked. Raising her towel higher, she crossed her arms underneath her chest. No sense in giving him a glimpse of something he would never see. “Nice to see you again, L.J. How have you been?”

L.J. smiled. That was all he could do. His tongue was twisted in knots and just standing upright seemed to require serious effort. Being in Autumn’s presence made him nervous. L.J. drank up every delectable inch of her. The brown-sugar skin; round, expressive eyes, slender fingers and trim arms. Autumn sat in a drool-worthy swimsuit fiddling with her napkin, oblivious to what she was doing to him. Her red-and-white bikini top made him think of a candy cane—and what he wouldn’t do for a lick. L.J. couldn’t remember the last time he was this enamored of a woman. It was as if she were a magnet and he was a paperclip trying to avoid getting stuck. But this thing he felt, this pull, was more than something physical. There was no denying the chemistry, but there was something else. He didn’t know what to call it yet. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t lust. What was it?

L.J. helped himself to a chair. “I’m good, can’t complain. You?”

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

He thought of what to say next. He had been looking forward to seeing her all day, but now that she was sitting in front of him, his mind was blank.

When a few seconds passed without another word from him, Autumn picked up the newspaper lying in the middle of the table. She concealed the top half of her body with the entertainment section of the Tribune, and L.J. felt as if an iron door had slammed shut in his face.

“So, have you two ladies decided what movie we’re going to see?” Peter asked, squeezing his fiancée’s waist. “L.J. and I want to check out that new DMX movie.”

Autumn folded the newspaper. “Movie? What movie?”

“Did I forget to mention that, too?” Melissa flicked her hair over her shoulders.

“I hope you guys aren’t dragging us to see some sappy love story,” Peter warned, stealing a piece of bacon off his fiancée’s plate, “’cause I can’t take another movie where all the characters do is talk, talk some more, argue and then make up. I want to see something blow up!”

Melissa waved her hand absently in front of Peter’s face. “Honey, please. We’re going to see Head Over Heels. I heard it’s an adorable date movie and since it’s my turn to pick, that’s what we’re going to see.”

“Is that right?” Peter’s hand fell from around Melissa’s waist. He pointed at himself, then L.J. “What if we don’t want to see that one?”

“Then I guess you can sit in the car, because that’s what I want to see,” Melissa snapped back. “You didn’t see me kicking up a fuss when you dragged me to see that horrific war movie last weekend, did you? Or what about when you convinced me to wait in line an hour to buy tickets for that martial arts thriller? Don’t get me started, Peter. I’m not in the mood.” Switching gears and the tone of her voice, she said, “Now, do you want something to eat? The movie doesn’t start for another hour.”

Autumn had to give it to Melissa. She could out-argue anybody. She’d checked in on her at the courthouse a time or two, and watching her friend in action had given her tingles. Melissa could go up both sides of the opposing counsel, then turn on the charm for the judge and play the sympathy card with the jury. If Autumn was ever arrested, she’d want Melissa representing her. Autumn returned her eyes to the newspaper. She didn’t have to see the end of this scene to know how things were going to play out. They were going to see Head Over Heels.

Peter rubbed his hand across the base of his jaw, a devilish grin taking shape on his lips. His eyes were twinkling brighter than a star-filled sky and before Melissa could blink, Peter had scooped her up and tossed her high in the air. Nuzzling his stubbly chin against her neck, he whirled her around. “Now, who’s the man?”

Melissa struggled to get free, but she was no match for Peter. He outweighed her by a solid eighty pounds. “Peter Roland Delancy, put me down! Now! Right now! Or you’ll be sorry.”

“What are you going to do, big bad Melissa?”

When she wavered, he set off towards the pool.

Melissa screamed loud enough to wake the dead, “Put me down, dammit! Now! Peter, if you don’t put me down this instant I’m going to—”

Peter didn’t let her finish. He heaved his bride-to-be into the elongated swimming pool, then doubled over in laughter. Melissa, a certified lifeguard and former captain of her high-school swim team, was flapping her arms and legs as though it was her first time in water.

Autumn jumped up from her chair, and her beach towel dropped around her ankles. Laughing until she was clutching her sides, she was oblivious to the show she was giving L.J. Now that’s what I call sweet justice, she thought, hooting right along with Peter. Melissa had finally gotten her due.

Melissa sputtered to the surface, looking fierce. Mascara was streaming down her cheeks, her berry red lipstick was chalky and the hair she’d spent a half hour curling was now pancake flat. Peter rested his hands on his knees, trying to regain control. “Turtledove, I…” He tried earnestly to apologize, but was overtaken again by laughter.

“You think this is funny?” Melissa screamed, pounding her fists against the water. “Wait! Just wait until I get out of here. We’ll see who’s laughing then, funny man!”

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