Read What Love Tastes Like Online
Authors: Zuri Day
What Love Tastes Like (18 page)
“You look good, Angelica.” Nick and Angelica sat in one of Stanfords's cozy booths, sipping a vintage, over-priced champagne that she had insisted on buying.
“Thank you.”
“This new relationship obviously agrees with you.”
“It does.”
“What's his name?”
“Careful, Nick,” Angelica teased. “You're coming precariously close to prying into my affairs.”
“Oh, is that what this is?”
“I don't mind.” Actually, Angelica thought it might work to her advantage to discuss Keith now. That way, later, it wouldn't seem suspicious, as if she'd been hiding information all along. If she found out Tiffany had talked to Nick about her father, this too would be information she could use. “His name is Keith Bronson.”
Nick rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Don't know him.”
“Didn't think so. I don't think he's quite in your altitude, darlin'. You're in a class all by yourself.”
“You always were prone to flattery.”
Angelica reached over and squeezed Nick's hand. “Only when it's deserved.”
Nick looked at Angelica's hand covering his, and smiled. “You're too much, Angelica King.”
Angelica winked. “I thought you knew.”
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“C'mon,” Joy pleaded. “We don't have to stay long.”
“How do you even know he's there?”
“Girl, I've got it on good authority that Jamal Sproles is holding court there. You know I had to have solid proof to get torn from Brenda Jackson and those Westmoreland men!”
“The men in your books are harmless, Joy. They're a fantasy. But actually hanging out trying to hook up with somebody⦔
“I'm not trying to hook up. I'm just trying to shake things up a little bit, add a little spice to my life.”
“Does Randall know about this spice?”
“No, his shaker is empty, and that's the problem. I love Randall. We're coming up on our ninth anniversary. There's no harm in looking, as long as we don't try out the merchandise, right? At least, where I'm concerned this is true. But where you're concerned, you need to put it on, take it home, and sleep with it. One hour, that's it. I'm already in Beverly Hills. You can meet me at Stanfords in fifteen minutes.”
Twenty minutes later, Tiffany pulled into Stanfords's parking lot. She'd only been there the one time before, when a summons from Nick had turned into a delightful dinner. She knew Joy had been there once as well, about a year ago. Joy had seen Derek Luke and a couple other faces that she recognized from television, and after finding out this was a popular spot for athletes as well, had bugged Tiffany about hanging out there more often. But when you worked in a restaurant, you didn't really feel like
hanging out
in one. That logic had quieted Joy's pleasâuntil now.
“I don't know how I let that girl talk me into things,” Tiffany scolded herself.
Oh, well, it's just an hour.
The outing would probably be good for her. It would definitely help to lift her dismal mood after learning that Nick had been at the hotel all day. It was just as well he didn't seek her out. Even though she'd finally agreed that her abrupt departure from Nick's house was probably extreme, she was resolved to keep it a clean break. She loved Nick immensely, which was why she hurt so much. And which was also why she'd admitted the obvious: it was overâfor good this time.
She'd probably have to leave the restaurant. Even though it was for the best that she and Nick separate, and as much as she loved Chef Wang and the rest of the crew, it just might prove too painful to try and stay there. Who knew? Maybe she'd end up with Chef Riatoli in Rome.
These were Tiffany's thoughts as she entered Stanfords. Joy was the first person she saw. She was sitting at the bar in a bright yellow sundress, four-inch heels, and sunglasses. Inside. Tiffany smiled and admitted her girl looked fabulous.
“Hey, chick.”
“Damn, girl, you could have put on some lip gloss or something.”
“Hello to you, too, Joy. And for the record, I just finished working nine hours. You'd better be glad I came here at all. But if all I'm going to get from you is insults, then⦔ Tiffany turned and took a step toward the door.
“Chill out, girl. And stop taking out your haven't-had-it-hit-in-a-month frustration on me.”
Tiffany plopped on the bar stool next to Joy. “I can see right now I'm going to need a glass of wine to get through this hour.” After placing her order, Tiffany looked around. “So, where is he?”
“In one of the private rooms,” Joy replied, flirting with the bartender while he fixed drinks for another couple.
“Girl, you need to quit. So how do you plan to hook up with him, or meet him, or whatever, if he's in a private room? And why do you want to meet him anyway? Isn't he just a few years older than Deuce?”
Joy turned to Tiffany and began to speak as if she were addressing a two-year-old. “First off, I'm not trying to get with Jamal. It's those around him I want to get to know. I hear his agent is thirtysomething, and hot! I hear he throws some of the best parties, knows some of everybody and, well, I want a change of scenery. I want to rub shoulders with the beautiful people.”
Tiffany looked at her friend with concern. “Joy, what aren't you telling me? What's going on with you and Randall?”
“I told you, Randall is losing his sex drive.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Well, something like that. He's always been able to get down, to satisfy. But since he's gained weight, gotten a little olderâ¦I think it's affected his libido.”
“Old? Randall is thirty-three.”
Joy shrugged. “Maybe it affects different men in different ways. But between you and me? Randall has become the two-minute man.”
“So you're thinking about sleeping with someone else?”
“Noâ¦not yet. Look, I'm going to stay faithful to Randall. I just want to put a little spice in my life.” Joy scooted a bit closer to Tiffany and lowered her voice. “See, Daaimah Poole wrote this book about some ladies that chased ball players and got paid!”
“OhâmyâGod.”
“No, wait, hear me out.”
Tiffany leaned back against the bar stool, crossed her arms, and stared at Joy.
“I
said
I'm not going to cheat on Randall. But what I might do isâ¦have a brothah thinking I'm going to play on my hubby, and get a few trinketsâa diamond, some designer clothes, hell, just the feel of what it's like to roll on that level. And,” Joy paused while she sipped her drink, “I might let him do a little licky licky.”
“What you're thinking about doing sounds dangerous. Men don't like to be played. As for âthat level,'” Tiffany said, making quotes with her fingers, “it's overrated.”
“That's easy for you to say. You were practically living in Malibu until you started trippin' and messed up that good thing.” Joy put up a hand to stop Tiffany's protest. “You were tripping, Tiffany, but we'll get to that in a minute. Right now I'm talking about me.
“I know I probably keep my head buried in too much fiction, but lately, some of the stories have got me thinkingâ¦about my life. I've basically been with the same man for over ten years, married for eight of those. I've got two kids, a decent house in Inglewood, but no life of my own! Besides wife and mother, how do I define me?”
“And you're thinking the term âgold-digger' might work?”
“In this other book, this woman lived a double life. By day, she was the perfect suburban housewife, but at night? She became âCandy,' an exotic dancer that drove men wild!”
“Joy, you're starting to worry me. How much have you had to drink?”
“I'm clean and sober, trust. These are virgin daiquiris I'm drinking. I'm not drunk, Tiffany, I'm bored!” Joy's eyes widened as she looked across the room. “Don't turn now,” she said out of a mouth that didn't appear to be moving. “But somebody's coming in this direction.”
“Who, Jamal?”
“No, your boy Nick. And he's not alone.”
Tiffany froze.
Maybe he won't see me. Maybe he'll just walk straight past andâ¦
“Hey, Nick!”
Dammit, Joy!
Nick groaned inwardly. What were the chances that Tiffany would visit Stanfords tonightâa million to one, maybe? She'd told him on more than one occasion that she didn't like the pretentiousness of the place. Yet here she was withâ¦
“Joy, we met a couple months ago, remember?”
“Of course.” Nick said, shaking Joy's outstretched hand. But his eyes were on Tiffany, who'd not turned around. “Hello, Tiffany.”
I don't care who he's with.
Tiffany turned around. “Hi, Nick.” Her heart clenched. She did care.
“How are you?” Nick's eyes devoured Tiffany; he spoke as if they were the only two in the room. Angelica placed a hand on his arm. He shook it off and stepped to Tiffany. “How was your time off work?”
Tiffany looked at Angelica as she answered. “I see how yours wasâ¦
uneventful.
”
“Baby, this is
nothing
,” Nick whispered.
Angelica flung back her locks as she moved closer to Tiffany, almost hitting Joy in the face. “Um, excuse me, Nick, but I don't think I've met your friend.”
Joy jumped off her bar stool. “Well, bitch, if you don't back up, you're getting ready to meet the
fist
of his friend's friend!”
“Joy, don't go there.” Tiffany slid off her bar stool and stepped in front of Joy.
“Oh my goodness, how utterly
ghetto,
” Angelica exclaimed.
“Yeah, I got your ghetto, and if you say one more word to me it's about to go down!”
The once-flirty bartender hurried over, his expression serious. “This is a respectable establishment,” he said, sounding like Carson Kressley on
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
. “You'll have to keep your voices down.”
Angelica turned to Nick. “Honey, I think we should call the police.”
Nick's eyes never left Tiffany's. “Angelica, you need to leave.”
“
Me?
Baby, what did I do?”
“You're trying to act like this is more than the meeting for drinks that it is, with your âhoney' and âbaby' nonsense. Just leave, Angelica.”
Angelica looked from Nick to Tiffany and back.
So all's not perky in paradise, huh? Very interesting.
She upped the ante on her innocent act. “Nick, I'm sorry. I didn't know your relationship was in such shambles. I never would have asked you to come out and celebrate with me if I knew your new woman was insecure.”
Tiffany had heard enough. “Joy, I'm leaving.” She brushed past Nick and headed for the exit.
Angelica prepared to follow, but Joy blocked her path. “I don't think so.”
The drama on the inside of Stanfords didn't match the one on the outside. Nick was right on Tiffany's heels.
“Baby, wait⦔
“Don't
baby
me!” Tiffany picked up her pace. So did Nick.
“Tiffany, you're blowing this way out of proportion. If anybody should be pissed off, it's me!”
Tiffany spun around. “What?”
“You heard me. From the time I canceled our vacation, you've acted like the only person who had a say in our relationship was you! Did you try and understand my point of view? Did we discuss it rationally? No. You just packed your bags and closed the door. Forget the fact that you broke my heart in the process. Now, just because I'm here with Angelica you get pissed and storm out? I've known her for almost fifteen years so yes, we still talk. But I told you that wasn't nothing going on beyond that. You're acting like someone did you wrong when I'm the one who should be angry.”
Had Nick screamed this at her, Tiffany could have stomped off to her car, slammed the door, and peeled off. But he'd delivered this tirade quietly, pointedly, his deep brown eyes boring into hers. How could she get him to understand that it had taken her a lifetime to erect the wall that was around her heart, to shield herself from being hurt and disappointed as she'd been in the past?
His
heart was broken?
Well, join the club. Mine was broken, many times, by an expert.
But how did she tell him? How could you convey what it was like to have your heart ripped out without even realizing that could happen, and to have it be your father who did it?
“Tiffany Alana, your father's on the phone!”
Unlike the sulkiness that usually accompanied her preteenaged movements, Tiffany bounded to the phone. “Hi, Dad!”
“Hey, how's my baby girl?”
“Good! Are you still taking me to Disneyland for my birthday tomorrow?”
“You bet. I'm going to wrap up my business and fly out tonight. Did you invite some of your friends along, as I suggested?”
“Uh, just my best friend, Joy.”
“You sure, honey? The limo can hold six to eight girls comfortably.”
Tiffany whooped. “You're renting us a limo, Dad?”
“Oops, that slipped out.”
“Mom, Dad is taking us to Disneyland in a limo!”
“That's nice, honey.” It was said pleasantly enough, but Tiffany hadn't missed Janice rolling her eyes.
As soon as Tiffany ended the call with her father, she rang Joy and spent the next two hours discussing what they'd wear and what cassettes they'd bring to listen to on the ride to Anaheim. Before they ended the call, Joy's mother asked to speak to Janice, and they coordinated dropping Joy off the next morning.
Tiffany was so excited she could barely sleep. She walked to the mirror and looked at herself for the umpteenth time. Tomorrow, she would be thirteen! Would she look any different, feel any different? Would she finally get her period? Joy had gotten hers six months ago and was constantly reminding Tiffany that she wasn't a woman yet. She leaned in to the mirror and fingered a small pimple on her chin. She didn't dare mess with it, otherwise it would grow to the size of a horn and totally ruin her fly look for tomorrow. Running a hand over her freshly done braids, adorned with pink, blue, and yellow beads to match her outfit, Tiffany began dancing to Naughty By Nature's latest hit. She continued while Whitney talked about being somebody's baby, and a brush became her microphone as she sang about what love would do with Janet.
The morning of her birthday, Joy's mother called with a change of plans. Instead of dropping Joy off immediately, they would pick Tiffany up for a birthday breakfast at McDonald's. After filling up on Egg McMuffins, pancakes, orange juice, and milk, the girls were dropped off at Tiffany's house. Joy helped Tiffany put the final touches on the makeup her mother was letting her wear for the first time.
“What do you want to ride first?” Joy asked.
“It's been so long since I've been there that I don't remember all the rides,” Tiffany responded.
“I know I want to get on a roller coaster.”
“Yeah, me, too. And go in âIt's a Small World.'”
“How are you going to turn thirteen and go on that kiddie ride?”
“What's wrong with the Small World ride? It's fun! I like it.”
“The only reason I'll ride it is because it's your birthday. But you better hope nobody from school sees us. We'll never live it down!”
As it got closer to eleven o'clock, the time Keith told the girls to be ready to leave, Tiffany and Joy set up watch by the big picture window in the living room. Joy tried to get Tiffany to watch
The Young and the Restless,
but Tiffany was too excited. She kept going outside and looking down the street, waiting to see this big white limousine her father had promised. When twelve o'clock rolled around, Joy suggested Tiffany call her father. She left messages on both his office and home voicemails. By the time one o'clock arrived, Janice offered to make lunch. The girls declined; they wanted to save their appetites for hot pretzels and funnel cake. By two o'clock, Janice placed another callâthis time to Keith's assistantâand made the girls grilled cheese sandwichesâ¦just to tide them over. Shortly afterward, Janice had to leave for work. “I'm sure he'll be here any minute,” she'd reassured an increasingly sad Tiffany. “His plane was probably delayed is all.”
By three o'clock, reality set in. Her father was a no-show. On this, her most important birthday that she'd asked him about six months ago and that he'd promised to witness, something else was more important than his daughter. When a sobbing Tiffany called her mother, a very pissed-off Janice tried to make it up to Tiffany. She called Grand, who saved what remained of the day. Grand drove the teenagers to Universal Studios, where they rode rides while she watched a movie and enjoyed a rare restaurant meal. Grand helped Tiffany put the fun back into turning thirteen.
But the damage had been done. Tiffany stopped trusting men on her thirteenth birthday. Tiffany started building the wall around her heart, the one that would prevent it from hurting again, on the night of her entry into her teenaged years. Because when her father finally called, he didn't want to hear about her disappointment. Instead he went on and on about an unexpected and unavoidable business meeting, and how she might have just turned thirteen, but she wasn't old enough to understand the pressures he was under to “build a future for her.” Tiffany had listened as he railed, tears rolling down her cheeks. They continued once the call was over, because on top of everything else? He forgot to do what no father should ever forget, especially one who'd just acted the biggest ass without even apologizing. He forgot to wish Tiffany “Happy Birthday.”
Tiffany looked up and realized Nick was still staring at her, waiting for an answer. And even though she knew it was irrational and that perhaps she should feel otherwise, she chose to ignore her feelings and protect her heart.
“You're right, Nick. I have no right to be angry. Someone like Angelica is probably a better fit for you anyway.”
“I know exactly the type of woman I want in my life. And it isn't someone like Angelica.”
Tiffany stared at Nick, stubbornly refusing to say that she was wrong. Defiance from years past rose up within her. “Wellâ¦it isn't someone like me, either.”