All Up In My Business (13 page)

Shyla paced in her office.
By whom?
It took every fiber of her being for Shyla not to ask this question out loud. But if one thing the corporate world had taught her, it was to be patient. Shyla knew that a trip with Toussaint to LA would make all the difference, would put the magic back into their currently stale relationship. Shyla knew she could hang with the women in LA. While not conceited, she knew she was beautiful. It didn’t matter that the hair and breasts had been purchased; they were still hers. The perfect bone structure, long, lanky build, and intelligence had come courtesy of good genes and a stellar education. Shyla knew she was the right woman for Toussaint. Taking this trip together would prove it to him.

“Have you given any more thought to my accompanying you to Los Angeles? I want to talk with you about the proposal I submitted to the Food Network. I really think we have a shot, but time is of the essence. We could talk out there, away from the office distractions. This is a huge opportunity, Toussaint. I wouldn’t take it lightly.” Shyla hoped she sounded professional, instead of desperate.

“I checked out your proposal,” Toussaint replied. “It’s tight, no doubt. As for LA, we’re still working out the personnel for that trip. Ace mentioned coming, and Aunt Diane may join us. I wouldn’t pack any bags yet, Shyla, but like I said before, I’ll let you know.”

“That sounds fabulous. In the meantime, I’m also expanding my marketing ideas for the West Coast expansion. Nothing too detailed, just some ideas I’ve been kicking around since you announced the concept.”

“That sounds good, Shyla. Copy Daddy and Ace on it.”

“Absolutely.” Shyla smiled, her confidence growing.
If he wants me to copy Adam and Ace, then he’s going to give whatever I send him serious consideration. And after that, I’m as good as shopping on Rodeo Drive!
Shyla made a quick mental note to put her hairstylist on standby. LA weaves were some of the best in the world. Shyla wanted to make sure hers was fresh for the trip. “Oh, Toussaint, one more thing—”

“Shyla,” Toussaint interrupted. “Ace is calling.”

“Call me back. Maybe we can get together tonight. I miss you.”

Toussaint switched calls without responding to Shyla’s invite.
It’s time to end things with her
. Later, he decided, after returning from Los Angeles. “Hey, Uncle.”

“Hey, Toussaint. I know you’re busy, so I’ll be quick.”

“Are you kidding? I always have time for my favorite uncle.”

“I’m your only uncle, fool,” Ace said, smiling. He’d been Toussaint’s “favorite” uncle for decades. “Listen, me and your
aunt Diane were talking about the LA trip. We’re definitely coming.”

“That’s great!” Toussaint suddenly thought about Alexis, and how much he’d love for her to accompany him on this trip. He knew that his aunt and uncle would love her. His mother, he was not so sure. When it came to Candace and her sons, nobody seemed good enough. “Maybe we can squeeze in a Lakers game.”

“Sounds like a plan. Oh, and there’s one more thing. There’s someone else I’d like to accompany us on this trip. I’ve been thinking about promoting her, and how she handles this trip would help me decide.”

“Um, well, Uncle, I’m not sure how productive Shyla would be on this trip. She and I … Well, things might get complicated with her along.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t shit where you eat, son, but that’s a conversation for later. And it’s a moot point where this is concerned, because I’m not talking about Shyla. I’m talking about Zoe Williams. You know that we like to promote from within, and I’ve had my eye on her for a while. She’s an excellent worker: smart, dedicated, goes above and beyond the call of duty. With Shyla poised for a director position, it’s time to consider the corporate ladder. Zoe has shown a real knack for marketing and PR and has expressed an interest in those areas. When we go to LA, I’d like to bring her with us.”

23

T
oussaint had barely begun to digest his uncle’s suggestion to have Zoe join the team heading to LA when his phone rang. One look at the caller ID put a smile on his face.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Pause. “Hi, Toussaint.”

“You’re a hard woman to reach. What’s a brothah got to do to get a return phone call?”

A longer pause. “Be patient.” Toussaint’s throaty laugh produced a tingle between Alexis’s legs. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call back. This latest project has me swamped.”

“Is that project’s name Jon Abernathy?” Toussaint was surprised this had come out of his mouth, but since it had, he eagerly awaited her answer.

“Jon? He’s not a client.”

“Neither am I, not anymore. So what is it, Alexis? Why will you go out with him and not me?”

Alexis paused, taken aback by the intensity in Toussaint’s voice. “We did go out, Toussaint. And as I said when we had dinner—”

“Appetizers,”
Toussaint corrected. “You ran out before the entrée arrived.”

“That was an emergency. My mom was stuck at a …”
Greyhound bus station
. “She was in a bind. “Alexis wasn’t ashamed of her mother’s choice of transportation, but rather why she’d been on the bus in the first place. Alexis’s alcoholic stepfather had wrecked her mother’s car during a road trip two states over, a trip he hadn’t told Mrs. Barnes he was taking. He also hadn’t told her he’d emptied the bank account. It hadn’t been until she’d arrived at the bus station to purchase the ticket that she found out about this hitch in the giddyup. As usual when financial troubles came, she’d called Alexis, who had left the restaurant, and her date with Toussaint, and gone to the bank to deposit money into her mother’s account.

“I understand. Things come up. But I’m ready to cash in that rain check you offered before running out on me. I want to see you, Alexis. You know I’m feeling you, girl, and I think you’re feeling me too. What are you afraid of … falling in love?”

“I’ve heard that’s not a good idea where you’re concerned. Your reputation of playing the field precedes you”

Toussaint’s response wasn’t immediate. The conversation wasn’t going as he’d planned. For once, Toussaint’s whorish ways embarrassed him. But he’d never denied his lifestyle, and he wouldn’t start now. “You’ve heard correctly. I’ve been around. But what does that have to do with us?”

“Everything.”

“Why?”

Alexis closed her eyes and tried to still her erratic heartbeat. It had been years since she’d opened up to a man, since she’d taken a chance on love. And with this man, well, the potential pitfalls were enormous. But then again, she reasoned, nothing ventured, nothing gained. “You’re right, Toussaint. I am feeling you. A lot. And quite honestly, that frightens me. I know I come off as strong and invincible, but … well … it’s a long story.”

“Why don’t I pick you up at eight, and you can tell it to me. Over dinner.”

Alexis’s heart fluttered, even as a shiver of fear ran through her. Toussaint was one of Atlanta’s most eligible bachelors—a woman’s dream. The last man who was everything she’d ever hoped for had left her unexpectedly. Still, Alexis faced her fears, knowing that any given journey began with the first step. “Here’s my address. Are you ready?”

Toussaint smiled as he typed her address into his phone. “I’m ready,” he whispered, confident once again. “The question is … are you?”

24

T
he afternoon passed quickly, and a little past seven-thirty, Toussaint climbed into his Mercedes and headed to Atlantic Station and Alexis’s loft. When he arrived, he wasn’t disappointed. Alexis’s home was a study in brilliant contradictions—just like her.

“Your home is perfectly put together, but I wouldn’t have expected anything less,” Toussaint said after they’d exchanged greetings and hugs. “I would have never considered purchasing a loft. But this … nice.”

“Thank you. Lofts have come a long way from what one thought of in, say, the seventies or eighties.”

“Do I get the grand tour?”

Alexis hesitated, but when she couldn’t quickly think of a logical answer to the contrary, she nodded her consent. Her living and dining area was basically combined, much as she’d designed Toussaint’s home. Floor-to-ceiling panels of shimmering beads, along with strategically placed floor rugs separated the spaces. Her kitchen was top-of-the-line, a fact that impressed Toussaint.

“I love your kitchen. Do you use it much?” he asked.

“Yes.”
“What? Are you telling me you’re beautiful and can cook too?”

Alexis warmed at the compliment. “I do all right.”

“You know you’re talking to a Livingston, right?”

“I kept that in mind as I gave you my answer.”

This banter helped to ease the unspoken tension swirling between them. Alexis turned and led the way down the hall to the bathroom and bedroom suite.

“Wait, who’re these people?” Toussaint had stopped to look at the black-and-white portraits lining Alexis’s wall.

“Family, mostly.”

Toussaint leaned closer to the portraits. The first one, of a handsome man dressed to kill, caught his eye. He looked at the portrait and then gazed at Alexis and back again. “This your father?”

“Yes,” Alexis replied softly. “You look like him.”

Alexis didn’t know why, but Toussaint’s keen observation caused her to choke up. “We should probably get going,” she said, returning to the living room without looking back to see if Toussaint followed. “Did wherever we’re going require reservations?”

“Yeah, but we’re good.” Toussaint took another long look at the man on the wall. He hadn’t missed how Alexis’s demeanor had changed when Toussaint had mentioned him. He also noted that the tour was over.

“Where are we going?” Alexis asked once they’d settled into Toussaint’s car.

“Someplace special.” Toussaint’s smile was boyish, charming.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

Alexis crossed her arms in a huff. Toussaint laughed and turned on the satellite radio. The pulsating sounds of Latin jazz oozed out of the Bose speakers.

“Thanks for taking a chance and going out with me,” Toussaint said sincerely.

Alexis glanced at him before answering. “You’re welcome.”

Conversation flowed fairly easily as Toussaint cruised down I-75. Not only was he a gentleman, Alexis decided, as he’d opened her car door and helped with her seat belt, he was knowledgeable too. During the short ride, they discussed food, travel, and Atlanta’s social landscape. Alexis relaxed.

Toussaint noticed and smiled. The evening with Alexis was going exactly as he’d imagined. She was smart, edgy, yet down-to-earth in a way that reminded him of his mother. There was something about being around her that, quite simply, just made him feel good. He changed lanes and took the Peachtree exit.

“Ah, we’re going to one of my favorite restaurants I see. I bet you guys eat at Taste all the time. I’m not complaining,” she hurried on. “Who better to patronize the establishment than the owners?”

Toussaint smiled. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Alexis’s brow furrowed when Toussaint passed the block on which Taste was located and continued toward the business district.
What restaurant is out here?

She didn’t have to wait long for her answer. Within minutes, they were pulling into the Livingston Corporation parking lot. Alexis’s confusion deepened. “Why are we going to your office?”

Instead of answering, Toussaint exited the car and then went around and opened her door.

“You ask a lot of questions, woman. Come.”

Alexis sat back in the seat, playing the potential seduction in her head. He’d take her into the near-empty building, down a darkened corridor, and then show her his office, which she was sure had a nice comfy couch. It was naïve of her to think a tiger could change his stripes in one day. “That’s okay, Toussaint. I’ll wait out here.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time. The dinner is five courses.”

“This is where we’re having dinner?”

“Yes.”

Skepticism showed on Alexis’s face.

“Trust me,” Toussaint whispered, reaching for Alexis’s hand. “Satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back.”

As soon as Toussaint opened the center doors at the end of the hall, a heavenly smell assaulted Alexis’s nostrils. It was a symphony of odors, she decided—herbs and spices, something sweet made with cinnamon and nutmeg and one of her favorite smells in all the world … baking bread. “What is this place?” she asked with the wonder of a five-year-old.

Toussaint smiled appreciatively. She’d passed an important test—loving food and its preparation as much as he did. “This is the test kitchen. Everything on the Taste menu starts here, and we’re constantly refining, making subtle changes. One of our primary goals is to make our Southern cuisine as healthy as possible, without compromising on taste.”

“But you still season with pork, correct?”

“We do, but as you may have noted, we’re constantly adding turkey and chicken alternatives.”

“I have noticed, and those dishes I’ve ordered are delicious. Since they are so tasty, why don’t you eliminate the pork seasoning altogether?”

“And have my great-grandparents rise from the dead?” Both Alexis and Toussaint laughed. “We have two powerful votes keeping pig in the pot—Marcus and Marietta Livingston.”

“Your great-grandparents?”

“Their kids, my grandparents. They’re retired but are still very active in the decisions affecting the company they founded. My grandfather often jokes that when he meets his maker, it’s going to be with a rib in one hand and a pig foot in the other.”

They continued talking casually as Toussaint showed Alexis around the kitchen.

“So where’s the person fixing this food?” Alexis asked when the tour was over.

“You’ll meet him soon.”

When they reached the elevator, Toussaint punched the button for the tenth floor. Alexis was silent, a little intrigued and a lot impressed with the man beside her. He was sometimes perceived as arrogant or cocky, but the Toussaint she was witnessing tonight was funny, kind, and sexy as hell.

“Wow, this is impressive,” Alexis said as they stepped off the elevator into the lobby of the Livingston Corporation. The lush, tan carpet anchored a room filled with mahogany furniture, striped cushions, lush plants, and silk-covered walls.