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  Yvette nodded. “Count me in. I’m in no rush to go home. Randall’s sprawled out on the couch, beer in one hand, remote in the other. He could care less what time I come home.”

  Shante squeezed L.J.’s forearm. “Interested?”

  L.J. nodded. “I’m game. I’m playing tennis with Pete in the morning, but it’s no biggie. I can whup him on just a few hours of sleep.” He locked eyes with Autumn, then directed his query at her. “What about you? Ready for some reggae music and an Island Mojo?” he asked in his best Jamaican accent.

  Autumn wasn’t much of a drinker, but whatever it was it sounded tempting.

  Reading the confusion on her face, he explained. “An Island Mojo is a fruity cocktail mixed with light and dark rum, lemon juice and grenadine. And once you try one, you’ll be hooked.”

  The soothing sound of his voice and the glimmer in his eyes made Autumn wonder if L.J. was trying to work some mojo of his own. She didn’t intend to sound coy when she responded, but the look on his face said that was the message he got. “It sounds delicious, but I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ll buy you one when we get to the club. You know what, Autumn? I’ll buy you as many as you want!”

  Now look who’s trying to be cute, she thought, more than amused. They were out-and-out flirting and now the ball was in her court. Autumn was set to kick the game up a notch, but Shante beat her to it. “You know what my favorite Caribbean cocktail is, L.J.? Skinny-Dipping on a Nude Beach,” Shante purred. She laced her toned arms through his, and rubbed her chest across his forearm like it was butter and he was bread.

  Autumn couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. Shante was throwing out more take-me-home-tonight signs than a baseball catcher and it was annoying. This is torture, she thought, taking a mouthful of her lukewarm cream soda. Could she be any more obvious? Autumn would sooner go line dancing at a country bar than go anywhere with Shante.

  Impatient for a change of scenery, Omar drummed his fingers on the table. “So, what’s the verdict? Are we going or what? People are starting to file out of here.”

  “I’m ready,” Shante winked at L.J, then licked her lips teasingly. “I’m always up for some action. Anytime, anyplace, anywhere.”

  Nixing another eye roll, Autumn searched for a plausible explanation for why she couldn’t join the group. Spending the rest of the evening watching Shante put the moves on L.J. was not her idea of fun. She was eager to apologize to L.J. for Tyrell’s deplorable behavior, but not with Shante the man-eater in the mix. Drinks at the Calypso was definitely out of the question. “I’d love to hang out some more,” she lied, “but I’m beat. I’ve been fighting all night just to keep my eyes open. Sorry, guys. This girl is going home to bed.”

  “Come on,” Yvette pleaded, throwing her arms around Autumn’s shoulders. “I can’t remember the last time we went to the Calypso and enjoyed some live reggae music. Stop acting like a little old lady and come on. You can catch up on sleep tomorrow.”

  “I know, but it’s been a tiring week, Yvette. When I leave here, all I want to do is go home, light some candles, put on some Al Green and take a hot chamomile bath.”

  “Oh, I get it,” Shante quipped, turning her eyes from L.J. to Autumn. “Planning a little sumthin’ sumthin’ back at your place for Tyrell? Speaking of your man, where is he? I thought I saw his fine ass around here somewhere.”

  “Don’t know, don’t care.”

  Shante raised her surgically perfected eyebrows midway up her forehead. “Since when? Y’all looked all lovey-dovey when I ran into you guys having dinner at the Mercury a few weeks ago. This is rather sudden, isn’t it, Autumn? How are you holding up, girl?”

  Autumn wanted to reach across the table and yank that ridiculously long weave out of Shante’s head. “Well,” Autumn began, her eyes dipping to Shante’s overflowing cleavage, “you should know better than anyone how quickly things can change.”

  Omar rubbed his hands together. “Hot damn! This is better than ringside tickets at the MGM Grand!”

  Shante stared Autumn down. Then, to the surprise of everyone at the table, she burst into loud, raucous laughter. “I gather from your testy response that it wasn’t an amicable break-up. You poor, sad soul. I’ve never been dumped, but I can image how difficult it must be. No wonder you’re a mess.”

  Autumn wanted to clock Shante into next week. Delving into the details of her split from Tyrell wasn’t an option, but she wasn’t about to let this she-devil knock her down, either. For the second time that night, someone was trying to humiliate her, but this time she wasn’t having it. Girding herself for a fight, she pressed her hands down on the table and tilted her body forward. “You listen here, you—”

  Yvette projected her voice above Autumn’s, “I’m going to pass on that drink, too. The kids are with their grandmother and I’m sure Elsie’s ready to throttle them. I’m going to go rescue her and take my little darlings home.” She turned to her best friend. “Ready, Autumn?”

  Autumn nodded.

  Omar, who was making eyes at a voluptuous redhead standing alone by the punch bowl, mumbled something about being thirsty, and scurried off.

  Shante beamed. Latching on to L.J.’s arm, she snuggled even closer to him. “Our first date! How romantic.”

  L.J. got to his feet before Shante could go the extra mile and hop right onto his lap. “It’s too late for you ladies to be walking the streets alone. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to escort you to your cars.”

  Yvette shared a look with Autumn. They were both impressed. Yvette smiled at him. “Thanks, L.J., that’s very thoughtful of you.”

  Shante dug her clawlike fingernails into his forearm. “You don’t have to walk them out. Nothing’s going to happen to them on the estate. There are people everywhere! Besides, we should get going. The Calypso is the size of an airplane bathroom, so it doesn’t take much for it to fill up.”

  L.J. didn’t want to be rude, but this buxom woman with the coarse mouth and aggressive personality was too much. And the last thing he wanted was Shante tagging along when reconnecting with Autumn was the only thing on his mind. He drew out his words nice and slow. “Shante, I’ll be right back. Wait here.”

  Autumn didn’t know if she could make it outside without hobbling. Her feet were sore and painfully tender. She contemplated carrying her sandals, but canned the idea without giving it proper thought. She didn’t want to give Shante any more ammunition to embarrass her. Autumn put her heels back on, swiped her purse off the table, and without so much as a goodbye to Shante, headed for the exit.

  “What are you going to do to keep yourself busy while you’re in D.C., L.J.?” Yvette asked as they emerged from the tent and into the starless night. She put her jacket on over her floral dress and zipped it up. The temperature had dropped considerably since they’d arrived at the estate hours earlier. A fierce wind was swaying the tent and rustling the oak trees shielding the expansive property.

  “Hang out with Peter before Melissa lays down the law,” he answered. A deep chuckle ripped from his mouth when Yvette gave him a hard shove.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Yvette’s tone was harsh, but she was smiling.

  “My grandfather used to say, ‘wedlock is a padlock’ and he was wrong about most things, but he was right about how miserable marriage could be. I bet Melissa will be giving Peter a curfew before the ink has dried on their marriage license.”

  Yvette’s shoulders shook as she laughed. “Come on, L.J., marriage isn’t that bad. When you find the right person, it can be the best thing in the world.”

  L.J. took a peek over his shoulder. Autumn was limping a few feet behind them. She hadn’t said a word since her exchange with Shante, and he wanted to bring her into the conversation. “What do you think, Autumn?”

  I think these shoes are cutting off my circulation. If I don’t get to my car soon, you guys will be picking me up off the pavement! “I’m with Yvette,”
was all Autumn could manage. She wanted to say more, but talking and limping was just too difficult. She needed to preserve her energy for the rest of the walk. Her car was still several feet away.

  L.J. couldn’t overlook the aggrieved expression on her face any longer. He stared down at her feet, held prisoners by the pointiest shoes he had ever seen, and said, “You look like you’re about to pass out, Autumn. If your feet are hurting, I could carry you, you know. I don’t mind.”

  The sparkle in his eyes and the smile he shared with Yvette wasn’t missed on Autumn. He was teasing her. She could barely put one aching foot in front of the other, but she wasn’t about to be the brunt of anyone’s jokes. Forgetting the sting, she wiped all traces of pain from her face, and fixed her mouth in a wide smile. “I’m just fine, thank you very much. Don’t worry ’bout me, L.J. I can make it.”

  Her brusque reply made L.J. wonder if he’d done something wrong. She’d been acting strange ever since her run-in with her ex-boyfriend. It was as if she had gone through a drastic personality change in the space of an hour. She wasn’t nearly as amiable as she had been when they were chatting by the pool.

  He could tell by the look on her face that she had a lot on her mind. No doubt, she was thinking about her ex. L.J. and Kellianne were as close as a brother and sister could be and he’d seen this predicament play out in her life many times before. Autumn’s ex had messed up and now she was in what he liked to call the I-hate-all-men-and-I’m-better-off-without-any-of-them phase. Because she loathed the opposite sex, including nice guys like him, she would rather suffer than accept his help. But L.J. didn’t blame her. From what he’d seen, her ex was the king of all jerks.

  L.J. resumed his conversation with Yvette, not giving Autumn another thought. But when he heard her stumble, his head whipped around. Her mouth was set in the most unflattering of expressions and she was breathing as though she’d just finished running up a flight of stairs. He offered his hand, but she waved it away. “Okay. Suit yourself.” Then to Yvette, “How many children do you have?”

  Yvette pulled out her wallet. Like a typical mom, she proudly showed off her daughters. She pointed at each picture and shared cute anecdotes about each child. “What about you, L.J.? Any rug rats?”

  “Shoot!”

  Yvette and L.J. turned around just in time to see Autumn stumble again. But before they could help her, she was back on her feet and dusting off her the hem of her dress.

  “You okay?” Yvette asked.

  Autumn could only nod. Averting her gaze, she spotted Yvette’s rusted, sky-blue minivan parked halfway down the block. It was hard to miss. It had a plethora of child-friendly bumper stickers, yellow Baby-on-Board signs and the silhouette of a safety seat in the back. “Do you want me to give you a ride to your van, Yvette?” Autumn asked, standing up tall and squaring her shoulders.

  “No, no, that’s all right. I need to walk off the four slices of cheesecake I had. I’ll call you tomorrow, girl.” With a quick hug to her best friend, and a small wave to L.J., Yvette continued down the driveway and strolled through the open gates.

  “Thanks for walking me to my car. It was really thoughtful of you,” Autumn said when they reached her car a half-minute later.

  “I should be thanking you.” When her face clouded over, he said, “For saving me from Shante. I’d been trying to shake that woman all night!” They shared a laugh. “Why don’t I show you my deep gratitude by taking you out for a dinner? Say tomorrow night, around eight o’clock?”

  Autumn couldn’t hold back her smile. “Very smooth.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “What? You have to eat and I have to eat. So, why can’t we do it together?” Hoping to persuade her, he offered, “You can choose the restaurant. Chinese. Mexican. Italian. Anywhere you want.”

  More laughter passed between them. Autumn didn’t know much about L.J., but she liked that he could make her laugh. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but she couldn’t go out with him. It just didn’t seem right. She was fresh out of a relationship and he was, well…visiting. He didn’t call Washington home and before she knew it L.J. would be returning to Atlanta. Why bother? Autumn was set to decline his offer graciously when she saw Shante hustling and bustling down the driveway like an out-of-control wheelbarrow. The woman was dangerously close to toppling over, and Autumn was secretly praying for the fall.

  L.J. held open the door for her. “So, what do you say?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Autumn kicked off her sandals and hurled them into the backseat. She gestured with her finger behind him. “Here comes reason number one.”

  L.J. didn’t need to turn around to know who was coming. Shante. His chin dropped so low it was sitting on his chest. The woman reminded him of his pet rottweiler, Keys. She was frisky, loved chasing things and was hard to cuddle with. Shante wasn’t his type. In fact, she was the complete opposite of the women he normally dated. He needed to find a polite way to let Shante know he wasn’t interested. As L.J. watched Autumn’s car pull out of the driveway, he wished she was the one hanging all over him instead of Shante.

  Chapter 5

  “The quickest way to get over a man is to find a new one,” Melissa explained, marching in beat to music blaring from the television, “and I know just the man to cure you of the funk that you’ve been in.”

  Autumn shot Melissa a leave-me-alone look. She retightened the elastic band in her hair and guzzled down some water. It was Saturday afternoon and the two friends were working out in the Grisbeys’ fitness room. Autumn reset the stationary bike for another thirty minutes, balanced the latest issue of Essence magazine on her lap and started peddling.

  “All I’m saying is, get out of your damn apartment. You’ve been holed up in your place like you’re under house arrest and you’ve turned down all my invitations to get together. Shutting yourself away and moping around the house isn’t going to make you feel better, Autumn.”

  Autumn continued reading. If she gave Melissa a chance, she knew her best friend would slip into Oprah mode and Autumn wasn’t in the mood for any more advice. Since breaking up with Tyrell, she had been getting plenty of unwanted counsel, and she had finally reached her breaking point. “I’m fine. I just don’t feel like hanging out, that’s all.”

  Mimicking Tae Bo instructor Billy Blanks, Melissa set her feet in a defensive stance and raised her balled hands to chin level. Alternating between waist-high kicks and throwing punches that would make Lennox Lewis proud, Melissa grunted along with the ten on-screen participants and the fitness guru. Without breaking her kicking rhythm, Melissa tossed Autumn a look over her left shoulder. “Well, do you at least find him attractive?”

  “Who?” she asked, knowing full well who Melissa was referring to.

  “Who else?” Melissa replied with a snort. “L.J. Do you think he’s good looking?”

  Do I ever, Autumn confessed, but not out loud so Melissa could hear. Autumn hadn’t seen him since the dinner party, more than two weeks ago, but she could remember every detail of his ruggedly handsome face. Wide eyebrows set above deep, slanted eyes with copper specks; a broad, slightly uneven nose and thick, kissable lips. His clean-shaved head appealed to her inner bad girl and his well-sculpted body testified to all the hours he must spend at the gym. The man had some really thick muscles on him.

  Autumn wiped her towel across her face and then down her neck. “He’s all right.”

  “All right!” Melissa shook her head in disbelief. “Broccoli’s all right. A knock-off Prada purse is all right. Vacationing in Cancun during spring break is all right. But men who look like L.J. are not all right.” She turned her attention away from the fifty-two-inch plasma-screen TV. “Confidence and intensity are unbelievably sexy, and L.J. has both in heaps. He has a gravity about him and he knows it, but not in a way that makes him arrogant, like Tyrell.”

  Autumn nodded. “I agree, but it doesn’t really matter what I think of L.J. ’cause I’m not
interested in him.”

  Throwing a flurry of punches and following them up with back-to-back front kicks, Melissa grunted some more. “That’s your problem right there, Autumn. You play life safe. You do the same thing day in and day out and you take no risks whatsoever.”

  Autumn made a face.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s true. You’re too busy planning and organizing your life to actually live it. You go with the flow and don’t ever trouble the waters. What’s so wrong with going out with him or anyone else who asks you out?” When Autumn didn’t respond, she went on. “I should just keep my mouth shut. Do what works for you. You’re a settler. Always have been. Always will be. So, don’t try new things, or meet new people or step out of your comfort zone.”

  Autumn didn’t want to exchange verbal blows with Melissa, but when she continued ripping into her, she couldn’t keep the lid on her frustration. “So, what do you suggest I do?” she asked not bothering to look up from the magazine. “Throw myself at L.J.’s feet like your shameless cousin?”

  The image of Shante hanging all over L.J. like a praying mantis flashed in Autumn’s mind. She gripped the handlebars and began peddling with renewed energy. God, I couldn’t stand that woman. Shante Patterson was the most self-minded, conniving person Autumn had ever met. She had no respect for herself or the plight of professional women. The daily struggles of career women fighting to be treated equally in a male-dominated work force were foreign to the onetime model. Shante batted her eyelashes, wiggled her hips and flaunted her curves, and when she didn’t get what she wanted, she reminded people who her prominent family was.

  Autumn would never dream of using her father’s name to advance her career. When her father had learned that she had accepted the junior accountant position at Monroe, his eyebrows had creased like old linen pants. “I golf on a regular basis with some of the company’s board of directors, you know. One call from me and they’ll see that you get a better position.” Autumn had refused. She had decided long ago that she was going to make a name for herself in the accounting world without her father’s influence or his endless list of connections, and as tempting as the offer was, she had turned it down. She’d had her fair share of crappy, low-paying jobs after graduating from college, but she had never once asked her father for help.