All Up In My Business (31 page)

“We’ve come such a long way, baby. Thinking back to those early days almost feels like a dream.”

Adam put his arms around Candace again, his hand cupping her backside. “This feels like a dream.”

“Hmmm. So does this,” Candace said, reaching between them and stroking Adam’s dick. They kissed, a melding of the lips that went from soft and tentative to hot and wet. Candace reached for Adam’s buckle, unzipping his pants at the same time. Soon, she palmed his manhood, which was hard and
throbbing. She went to her knees, right there beside the island in the center of her kitchen, and put the length of him into her mouth.

“Ahhh.” Adam rocked back on the island, placing one hand on the cool marble and another on the back of Candace’s head.

“Mmm,” Candace moaned, slathering her man’s dick with her saliva. She opened her mouth wider, sucking him in deep. It had been too long since she’d tasted him, too long since they’d shared intimacy. She licked and sucked and bobbed her head, her time with Q becoming more and more of a distant memory with each passing second. Candace’s knees scraped against the slate-tiled floor, but she ignored it. Her focus was only on the moans, groans, and thrusts that signaled Adam’s nearing release. He grabbed the back of her head as it happened, as he spent himself inside her, and she swallowed every drop.

“Baby, oh … baby.” Adam slumped against the island, unable to pull up the slacks that were now down around his legs. “That was … amazing.” She’d never given head like that before. The thought of how she’d honed these new skills, riding a strange cock when she should have been riding a treadmill, killed the mood. “Move, baby. I’ve got to use the bathroom.” He pulled up his pants and began walking away. The phone he’d placed on the island began to ring.

“Candace, grab that. It’s probably Ace. Tell him I’ll call him back in a couple.”

Candace hurriedly retrieved Adam’s phone from his briefcase. She was still reeling from what happened, still rubbing her knees to stop the burning and get the circulation back in her legs. But she’d been with her man again. Adam and Candace were back!

“Hello?” she almost sang, with a smile so wide it could practically be seen through the phone.

Almost, but not quite, as was evident seconds later. “Where’s your punk-ass husband?”

Candace almost dropped the phone. “Q?”

“Damn right.”

“Q, have you lost your mind? What we had is over, so why are you calling my husband?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know, and don’t try and play the part of protective wifey. Your ass wasn’t so concerned about him when I was knee-deep in that pussy. But you should be concerned about him now.”

Candace paused. She’d never heard Q talk like this: somber, threatening.
But why?
Several doses of penicillin was proof that she hadn’t been the only one Q was screwing. So why was he so angry that they were through? “Q, look, I don’t know what your problem is. If anybody is angry here, it ought to be me. You’re the one who gave me the clap, remember?”

“Yeah, and that bitch you’re married to is the reason my business is shut down. But that’s all right. I want you to deliver a message to his ass. He’s fucked with the wrong player, believe that.”

“Q, what in the … Q? Q!”

Candace was still holding the phone when Adam walked back into the kitchen. “Who was that?” he asked, immediately noting the concern on Candace’s face.

“It was Quintin, Adam. Something about his business being shut down and that it’s your fault?” As Candace watched the emotions play across Adam’s face, a sense of foreboding began to beat in her chest. “Adam. Talk to me. What is going on?”

62

T
oussaint was walking on clouds, had been ever since Alexis waltzed back into his life. What started out as a night of passion after surprising her at her loft had turned into them practically living together. Whether at her loft or his penthouse, they’d spent almost every night together. In between thoughtful, tender lovemaking or sometimes rough-and-tumble sex, Toussaint and Alexis had talked, sometimes for hours. Her diverse interests equaled his, and she could talk about fashion one minute and then hold her own in a conversation on basketball the next. Toussaint didn’t think he could be satisfied with just one woman. It’s why he’d never married. But Alexis appeased every one of his hungers. Which is why he’d told every woman who called him that it was over, and when they kept on calling, he had his number changed.

Toussaint reached the front door of Ace and Diane’s house. He was overdue for a visit and knew his aunt would make sure he knew this.

“About time you came to visit,” Diane said, giving Toussaint a hug once he’d stepped inside. “I was about ready to hire a detective to track you down.”

“I’ve been busy, Aunt Di. You know, work and all …”

“Work my foot. Come on back to my office. I’m working on your Food Network stuff.”

In the Livingston Corporation’s early days, Diane had handled marketing and PR. When Shyla was fired, Diane volunteered her services during the transition and was now determined to see her nephew become the next Food Network star. They reached the comfortably lived-in office and sat down. Diane eyed Toussaint closely. “Looks like somebody’s happy.”

“Somebody’s ecstatic, Aunt Diane. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good.”

“Something tells me this has nothing to do with the cooking show.”

“I could never keep anything from you. It’s Alexis. We’re back together, and closer than ever. Which reminds me. I need to thank you.”

“Me?”

“Don’t even try it. Alexis told me that you called her right after the incident. When you told her that I’d fired Shyla and encouraged her to give a brothah a chance.”

“I’m happy for you, baby,” Diane said, putting her hand in the air. She and Toussaint high-fived. “I guess I don’t have to tell you how to keep her happy.”

“When I make my vows, it will be for keeps, like all of the other Livingston men.” During a recent conversation with Malcolm, Toussaint had found out just how hard it was to keep those vows. But he was determined. “I’ve played the field and sowed my oats. When I marry Alexis—”

“You’ve proposed?”

“Not yet. But let’s just say I’ve already purchased Alexis’s Christmas gift. And once she says yes, I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing her why she married me.”

“Baby, the whole country is getting ready to see why any woman would be crazy not to say yes to you.”

“I don’t know about that, Aunt Diane.”

“I do.” There was an unmistakable twinkle in Diane’s eye. “Wait a minute. Did you hear from …” Diane nodded slowly.

Toussaint’s eyes widened slightly as realization dawned. “You heard from the Food Network?”

Diane continued nodding. “They played the tape of you and Oliver to several test markets. The camera loves you, darling, and Oliver’s warmth oozes from the screen. Those are the words from the producer’s mouth. They want to set you up on a test basis, six shows. But I know this is just the beginning—”

“Wait a minute. They’ve already green-lighted this? We’re getting ready to go national?”

“In three months, more than twenty-million households are going to know about Taste of Soul, and other soul and ethnic restaurants across the country.”

“But they didn’t even see me cook. It was mostly Oliver, with me … you know …”

“Flirting and being your loveable self. And that’s what sold them. Your personality, Toussaint. We’ve got to fly to New York next week, where we’ll be discussing specifics about your show. And you watch. It’s just a matter of time before that West Coast location opens. Ace has been telling me about your plan, and I love it.”

Toussaint looked at his watch. He stood and walked over to the desk. “Did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite aunt?” he asked, bending over to hug her.

Diane chuckled. “Yes, but you can tell me again.”

63

D
iane walked with Toussaint to the door, waving a final time before he jumped into his car and sped off. Then she turned and raced to her phone. “It looks like we’re gaining a new family member,” Diane said as soon as Candace answered the phone.

“Oh my God, Bianca’s pregnant?” Candace asked, referring to Diane’s daughter, the only girl in the Livingstons’ fifth generation. For the past year she’d lived in Paris, where she was currently finishing up culinary school.

“Heaven forbid,” Diane hastily replied. “I think it’ll be a while before I see any grandchildren. You, on the other hand …”

Candace’s heart leaped to her throat. “Victoria?”

“Ha! No, girl, I think she’s done. I’m talking about Toussaint.”

“Oh, Lord. Alexis is pregnant?”

“Calm down, Candace. Nobody is with child. But you’re getting ready to have another daughter-in-law. Toussaint is giving her a ring for Christmas.”

“Giving her a ring? He’s barely introduced her to the family! I don’t know how I feel about this. What’s her last name again? I need to do a background check.”

“Careful, sistah. You’re starting to sound like Valarie.”

“Or Marietta. Remember she wasn’t too pleased with my baby news.”

“But she came to love you, as do we all.”

“Okay, I’ll lighten up, give the girl a chance. But I’m still going to check the background. Can’t have just anybody in Livingston territory.”

“Speaking of territory, has Adam reclaimed his?”

“Didn’t I tell you? We’re back, and better than ever.”

“I still don’t understand it, Can. What happened? A midlife crisis?”

“Girl, I don’t know what to call it, except stupid. No, that’s not true. I know what happened.” Diane waited, silent.

“Okay, here’s the deal. This fifty-three-year-old grandmother got dick-whipped.”

“Girl, stop.”

“I swear to God, Diane, whipped!”

“Ooh, Lord, was he that good?”

“Don’t even get me started—”

“No, don’t, ‘cause I don’t want to know.”

“Had me ready to give up my house, my man, my kids, my everything! Nine thick, solid inches. I still miss it.”

“Notice that you said
it
, not
him
. You can order
it
online, any shape, size, or color. So remember that the next time you get the itch to go creepin’, no pun intended. You can still get your pleasure without putting your family through hell.”

“You’re right, Diane,” Candace said, all humor gone from her voice. “There’s no excuse for what I did.”

“No,” Diane said, her voice also softer. “But at least it’s over.”

Candace became quiet. “I sure hope so.”

“Wait a minute, Candace. What does that mean?”

“Q called last night.”

“What in the hell is he doing calling you?”

“It’s even worse. He called Adam.”

“Adam? Why? How’d he get his cell number?”

“I don’t know, but he did. And I answered his phone. Q ranted about Adam having had his business shut down.”

“Oh my gosh, is that true?”

“Adam wouldn’t tell me, but something’s going on. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

They chatted for a little while longer, before Candace received another call. Diane sat in her office, her stomach churning.
Should I have told her?
No, she couldn’t. She’d promised Ace she wouldn’t tell anyone about the dream he’d had last night. The one in which his twin got shot. And died.

64

Z
oe pulled into the convenience store near her house. She was feeling lucky, had dreamed all day about what it would mean to buy a lottery ticket and have her life change overnight. One thing she’d decided, even with a windfall, she’d still continue working at the Livingston Corporation. She loved her new position, loved working with Drake Benson. He’d been extremely helpful, ready to share information, staying late to help her get acclimated to the marketing department. They both were giddy that Shyla Martin was no longer with the company. The entire marketing area seemed lighter, more accessible without her around.

After making quick purchases of chips, soda, and her lottery ticket, Zoe hurried to her car. If she got all the green lights, she’d make it home in time to watch one of her favorite reality shows,
American Idol
. She agreed with Chardonnay that it hadn’t been the same since the likes of Jennifer Hudson, Ruben Studdard, and Fantasia had graced the stage, but it still provided Zoe with an escape from what had turned into a routine life.
What happened?
Zoe pondered this as she covered the short distance to her car. What happened to the party girl who used to close down the club and then head over to the Waffle House for the All-Star Special? Who used to not miss a
concert when it came to town? True, she’d somewhat lost her running buddy when Chardonnay started having babies, but Zoe was an attractive, single woman.
What in the hell is going on with me, and where is my life?

“One thing for sure,” Zoe said to herself as she got into her car. “I’m not going to date anybody I work with.” Not that she’d taken Drake’s invite seriously, the one where he’d asked her if she liked red-hot hockey and ice-cold beer. He had two tickets to the Thrashers game and had wanted her to go. She liked Drake and could tell he liked her. But when it came to men, she liked her meat dark.

Zoe jumped at the knock on her window, but her heart went back into her chest when she turned and saw Bobby standing by her car. “Hey, Bobby,” she said as she rolled down the window. “What are you doing in my neighborhood?”

“It might be mine pretty soon. I just checked out an apartment complex down the street. How’s the area? Do you like it over here?”

“It’s pretty cool, quiet. Not too far from work. Speaking of which, how’d you manage to get a Saturday night off?”

“Oliver had to fly to New York, so I helped out in the test kitchen all day. So Chef got somebody else to work my shift, gave me the night off. I haven’t had a weekend off in so long, don’t even know what to do.” He looked at Zoe. “What are you getting into?”

“Laundry.”

“On a Saturday night?”

“Works for me. The laundry room is almost empty on Saturday nights, and I like waking up on Sunday mornings to a clean house.”