If I Were Your Woman (3 page)

“You are terrible.” She sat down. “Well, since you spilled the beans, what did your live-in attorney say?”

“'Im say a restraining order is only a piece of paper and if someone really wants to get to a person a piece of paper won't stop them.”

Stephanie's brows rose and fell. “Gee, that's comforting,” she said, full of sarcasm.

“That's why me stop by, won' make sure you're okay.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“'Im also say, when a piece of paper fail, boyfriends, big brothers, and fathers can make a difference.”

“That lets me out on all counts…except for the boyfriend part. But I don't want Tony going around threatening anyone.”

“No brothers?”

“No. Just me and Samantha.”

“What about your dad? I never hear you talk about 'im.”

Stephanie drew herself up. “Nothing to talk about, really. He's been gone so long that if he ran me over with a truck I wouldn't know who he was.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. It's been a long time. He was never in my life.”

“It's hard on boys not having their pops, but it's hard on girls, too.” She smiled sadly. “Your pops is a girl's first love. I know not having her pop around affected Raquel. For years I felt guilty about taking her away from Jamaica and her family there. But it was either save myself or turn my soul over to Terrance. I chose to save my soul.”

“I always wondered if the decisions I'd made about men and relationships had anything to do with not having a father around.”

Ann Marie shrugged. “Could be.”

“Well, I'd prefer not to travel down that particular memory lane. What's in the bag?”

Ann Marie took out the bottle of Alize and put it ceremoniously on the center of the smoked-glass coffee table. “I know it's your favorite.”

“Let me break out the glasses.”

They shared a couple of glasses of wine and chatted about inconsequential things and about getting together on Friday before Ann Marie announced that she needed to be getting home.

Stephanie walked her to the door. “Thanks, Ann.”

Ann Marie looked up at Stephanie. “For what?”

“For coming by, bringing wine, being a friend.”

Ann Marie waved her hand. “Oh, chile, please, I was in the neighborhood and Sterling only drinks cognac.”

Stephanie smiled, knowing the truth behind the words. Ann Marie was really a good person beneath her tough girl exterior.

“Tell him I said hello.”

Ann Marie waved and walked out. Stephanie slowly closed the door. With the impromptu visit from Ann, the two glasses of wine, and mindless girl talk, she found herself actually feeling relaxed for the first time since she woke up. Maybe she'd get a good night's sleep after all.

She turned out the lights in the front of the apartment and walked off toward her bedroom.

 

A light snow had begun to fall. From the car parked out front, he watched the lights go out. He'd seen Ann Marie when she went in, watched her leave, and assumed that Stephanie was now alone. He knew he shouldn't have come here. He had no right, not after everything that had happened. Stephanie had every right to hate him. All he wanted was a chance to make things right between them—when the time was right. He'd learned how to be patient.

Sighing heavily but resigned, he turned on the ignition and headlights, then drove off.

“P
lease tell me that was the last guest for the day,” Elizabeth said to Carmen, the part-time receptionist. She plopped down on the stool next to Carmen behind the desk.

“Yes, Mrs. Lewis.”

“Oh, please,” Ellie said with a chuckle, “don't call me Mrs. Lewis. It makes me feel so old.”

Carmen grinned, flashing incredible dimples. “I'll keep that in mind. Do you want me to close up?”

“No, I'll finish up. I'm meeting someone in about a half hour.”

“Okay. The day's receipts from the café are tallied and in the safe. I must have taken at least a dozen calls about membership. I put the list in the pending file.”

Elizabeth blew out a breath. “And the beat goes on, as the Whispers would say.”

Carmen frowned in confusion.

Elizabeth waved her hand in dismissal. “Before your time. Go on home, get some rest. Looks like we're going to have a bit of snow before the night is over. Maybe that will keep some of the fellas at home tomorrow.”

“Doubt it,” Carmen quipped. “This is the next best thing to a quick getaway for most of them. Besides, seeing a string of men hour after hour ain't half-bad for a day's work, ya know.”

“That's what all the girls say.”

“Well, good night, Mrs…. I mean Ms. Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth or Ellie is fine.”

Carmen drew in a breath, picked up her purse and coat. “I'll get it together. Promise.” She waved goodbye and headed for the door.

Elizabeth was exhausted. When she'd told the girls that she was willing to manage Pause, she didn't imagine that it would be quite the booming success that it had become and all the work that it would entail. She was the only one of the quartet who actually worked at the spa full-time. Not to mention that she lived on the top floor. At times she felt that she lived and breathed Pause for Men. She was looking forward to getting away even if it was only to have dinner at her twin daughters' restaurant.

She checked her watch. Ron would be there to pick her up in about an hour. She wanted to do a quick check of the premises and hopefully get a chance to freshen up before he arrived.

Elizabeth started in the basement, made sure all the machines were turned off and the used towels were in the bins for pickup by the laundry service in the morning. The café on the first floor was locked up tight, and the exercise rooms were in order. She wiped down the machines with disinfectant, then went upstairs to the lounge. Satisfied, she hurried upstairs to her top-floor apartment, took a quick shower, and changed into a pair of jeans and a sweater.

Looking at herself in the mirror she had to shake her head in amazement. A year ago, she wouldn't have thought twice about putting on a pair of jeans to go out—at least no farther than the corner store. But since her emancipation from her twenty-five-year marriage to Matthew, a lot about her had changed. She owed it all to Ron. He introduced a side of her that she had buried under the guise of what she believed a wife should be: a good homemaker, mother, and dutiful wife. Her entire existence for more than two decades had been dedicated to her family and keeping a pristine home.

At times she missed the house that she had so lovingly created over the years. But her freedom was worth the loss.

She peered a bit closer toward the mirror, noticed some extra gray around the edges of her hair, and made a mental note to make a salon appointment. She applied her lipstick, just as her doorbell rang.

She walked to the front of the two-bedroom apartment and pressed the intercom, thankful once again that she'd listened to Ron and had it installed when they were renovating the building. It definitely cut down on the wear and tear of running up and down the stairs to answer the door or yelling out the window—a practice that she abhorred.

“Who?”

“Ron.”

She buzzed him in and went to get her purse from the bedroom. No matter how many times she heard his voice or looked at his face, she still got that little tingle in the pit of her stomach and her pulse would kick up a notch. Being with Ron Powers was like being a young girl in love again.

Moments later he was knocking on her front door.

“Come in. It's open,” she called out as she came from the back of the apartment.

“Hey, baby.”

Her breath bunched into a knot in her throat. She suddenly felt shy and uncertain with him looking at her as if she were the appetizer before the main course.

Ron moved with power and ease across the floor. He tilted up her chin and softly kissed her lips. “Hmm, I've been waiting for that all day.”

“Have you?” she said in a whisper.

“Yeah, that and more. But we'll work that out when we get back.” He kissed her again before moving away. “We better get going so we can get back before it really gets bad out there.”

“Okay, let me grab my coat.” She took her tan wool coat out of the closet and a chocolate colored scarf. “Ready.”

“Oh, I brought a friend of mine along. He's down in the car. I hope you don't mind,” he said as he closed the door behind them.

“No, not at all. Is he joining us for dinner?”

“Yeah. I felt kinda bad. He doesn't have any family or anything.”

“A friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

The streets were coated in a layer of white, the flakes continuing to fall, the streetlights giving them an iridescent glow.

“The first snowfall is so beautiful.”

“This will be our first winter together,” Ron said. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I can't wait to make love to you with the snow falling outside the window.” He nibbled her ear and she giggled.

“Behave in front of company,” she playfully warned as he opened the car door for her.

He darted around to the other side and hopped in. “Elizabeth, this is Ali Aziz. We go way back. He just moved up here from Atlanta last month and joined my construction crew. Best carpenter in the biz.” He chuckled and turned on the car.

Elizabeth twisted around in her seat. A hint of something familiar struck her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She supposed she was thrown off by the fact that he was older than she'd expected. A good-looking man, in the “I've seen the world” kind of way. Medium brown complexion, soft, almost sad eyes, sharp cheekbones that seemed to almost cut through his skin, full lips, and a broad nose. He was a big man. She could tell that much even though he was sitting down, and when he stretched his hand across the seat to shake hers, her fingers disappeared.

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“You too. Ron hasn't stopped talking about you. I feel like I know you already,” he said in a barely discernible southern drawl.

Ron slowly pulled off and headed for Delectables, the health food restaurant owned by Elizabeth's twin daughters, Dawne and Desiree.

By the time they arrived the wind had kicked up a notch, but the snow had stopped. They hurried inside and were enveloped in warmth and mouthwatering aromas.

Desiree came up to greet them. “Hey, Mom.” She kissed her cheek, then turned to Ron and gave him a quick hug. “Good to see you,” she said to him.

“This is my friend Ali Aziz. He works on the crew. Ali, this is one of the twins.” He chuckled. “I'm still working on telling them apart.”

Desiree stuck out her hand. “I'm Desiree Lewis. I'm the cute one. You'll see when you meet my sister.” She stuck out her tongue at Ron.

“I'll keep that in mind,” Ali said.

“I was hoping you would still make it,” Dawne said, walking up to the group. “Getting pretty bad out there.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I'm Dawne. I'm sure my sister told you she was the cute one, but that's the lie she tells everyone.” She extended her hand to Ali.

He laughed. “Ali Aziz. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you work with Ron?” Dawne asked.

“Yes, started about a month ago.”

“Don't let him work you to death,” Desiree said.

He jerked his head in Ron's direction and smiled. “Tell him that.”

“You're gonna give me a bad name, man. Let's get settled before you have them thinking all kinds of awful things about me.”

“Sit anywhere. You guys are our last customers for the day. We were getting the menu prepared for tomorrow for the spa,” Dawne said.

Desiree went to lock the front door.

“Let me know when you're ready to order,” Dawne said, then headed back to the kitchen.

They took a booth and sat down.

“How long have you two known each other?” Elizabeth asked.

Ron and Ali looked at each other as they mentally calculated the years.

“A long time,” they said in unison, then laughed.

“I met this guy when he was young,” Ron said, hooking his thumb toward Ali.

“We both were. You were no more than a kid at the time.”

“How did you meet?”

“At a Black Panther meeting,” Ron said.

Elizabeth's eyes widened with interest. “Really? Ron told us all about his ‘revolution days.'” She leaned forward, not wanting to miss a word.

“I was heading up a local chapter, and this scrawny kid comes in—”

“See, this is how stories get distorted. I was nevah scrawny!”

They alternated in their storytelling, making light of some intense situations with the marches, the raids by police, and the tension of those days. It was all so fascinating that the meal and two hours had flown by.

“You have to come back again, Mr. Aziz,” Desiree was saying as she collected the plates. “It's so rare that this generation actually gets to talk to people who were in the midst of the struggle and what it was really all about.”

“Thanks for the invitation. I definitely will. Your place is lovely and the food was really great. Although I'm a steak and potatoes man, I gotta give it to you ladies.”

“This is our pride and joy,” Dawne said, looking lovingly at her sister. “It was a struggle at first, especially opening up right across the street from a rib joint.” The sisters laughed. “But we hung in there and now we have a steady flow of regulars, not to mention the work that we get by providing the food for the spa. We've finally been able to hire some help.”

“Nothing like having a dream and finally seeing it come true,” Ali said, his voice suddenly melancholy. He shook his head as if to dispel something only he could see and forced a smile.

Ron looked at him for a moment, then stood and helped Elizabeth with her coat.

“I'll drop you off, Ali, after the girls lock up, since I convinced you to leave your car.”

“Naw, I'm good. I can make it from here. Why don't you two go on with your evening? I can stay.” He turned to the twins. “If you need any last-minute help, I can pitch in.”

“Sure. We could always use some help,” Dawne said.

“Thanks, Ali. I never feel comfortable with them locking up at night by themselves,” Elizabeth said.

“Not a problem. I'm happy to do it.”

Ron clapped him on the back. “Okay, take care of our girls and I'll see you in the morning.”

“Sure thing. And really nice meeting you, Elizabeth.”

“You too.”

Elizabeth kissed and hugged her daughters goodbye, then went out to meet the biting wind with Ron's arm wrapped securely around her.

“I can't wait to get you home,” Ron murmured. “It took all I had to concentrate on my food and conversation with you sitting right across from me looking like dessert. And, woman, every time you ran your tongue across your lips…” He tossed his head back and groaned deep in his throat.

“Ron, you're crazy!”

“Crazy about you.” He pulled up in front of the building and turned to her. “You know that, don't you?”

She swallowed and nodded her head, unsure of her voice.

“Good. Now come on so I can show you just how crazy I am.”

“Your friend is really nice,” she said as they went inside.

“Yeah, he's a good guy. Got some bad breaks, but he kept it together.”

“Bad breaks? What do you mean?” She hung up her coat and took Ron's from him.

“Got locked up on a bad break, spent years in jail, and lost his family as a result.”

“Jail? For what?”

“Murder.”