In The Company of My Sistahs (19 page)

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Authors: Angie Daniels

BOOK: In The Company of My Sistahs
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Chapter 32
RENEE
L
ater that evening I called the front desk to make sure that Everton's ass had gone home. All during dinner he kept popping over to our table, staring and driving me up the wall. Everybody thought that shit was funny but me.
As soon as I was finished eating, I went back to the room to get a breath of fresh air, then decided to spend the rest of the evening working on an outline for a new PI series I was seriously considering. While working out on the balcony with my laptop, I spotted Kayla sitting near the jerk-chicken hut, talking and laughing with Clayton and his bubbled-eye friend. I discreetly watched them and decided they were the oddest looking bunch. Nevertheless, I found myself drawn to Clayton's smile. He had a pair of perfectly white teeth with a slight overbite that rested on top of his bottom lip every time he smiled. I watched him until the group moved toward the other end of the beach, then I again settled back in my chair and resumed writing.
Around eight o'clock, I woke up to find I had fallen asleep with my laptop resting on my lap. I rose and went inside and decided to take a shower and wake my ass up. As soon as I got out, I quickly dressed in a lime green knit dress that plunged deep in both the back and front. As soon as I saw the dress at Dillard's I knew I had to have it. It was scandalous, just like me.
After spraying a little perfume on my damp skin, I again slipped into those three-inch white sandals and walked over to the lobby, where they were having live entertainment. I spotted Lisa standing on the stairs, watching the native dancers below. I couldn't see the other two, so I pushed through the crowd, ascended the stairs, and moved beside her.
“Hey, girl.”
Lisa glanced my way and her eyes lit up. “Hey, you've missed a good show. They just had this guy on stage that looked like 50 Cent. Girl, when he took his shirt out, I practically fell down the stairs.”
I scowled. Damn you, Everton. “Where's Nadine and Kayla?”
“Nadine was in the room, taking a nap. I'm not sure where Kayla is.”
I focused my attention on the women below, doing an African folk dance. The group definitely had skills. They set up to limbo under a stick ignited with fire. My mouth was wide open as I watched them move one by one beneath the flames. As the last man maneuvered his limber ass underneath the stick, I caught movement out the corner of my eyes and spotted this fine dude coming our way. He stopped and stood before me.
“Excuse me, but I think you're in my spot,” he said in a deep husky tone. He smiled like he was posing at a Sears Portrait Studio. I hadn't seen him before, but had to say he was sexy as hell. The first thing that came to mind was Blair Underwood. Dark chocolate, goatee, and fine.
I glanced down at his hairy legs, then back up to his blue jeans shorts and island print t-shirt. He was standing before me just ready for me to reel his ass in.
I slowly licked my lips, then cooed, “How do I know this is your spot?”
“Because Trevor left to get me a drink.”
I turned in the direction of Lisa's voice, glanced at her, then Trevor, then back at Lisa again. By the way she was smiling it was obvious the two knew each other. So in other words, Trevor hadn't been checking me out; instead, he was staring at my sister's married ass.
“Damn, my bad.”
He handed my sister her drink. Lisa blushed. I dropped a hand to my waist and took a step back. Now, from the way things looked, there was something going on between the two of them. Lisa rarely blushed and right now she looked guilty as shit. I wouldn't have believed it if I ain't seen it for my own eyes. My sister was trying to get her freak on in Jamaica! Now, when I said, “whatever happens in Jamaica, stays in Jamaica,” I was talking about my own ass. Who would have ever guessed Lisa's faithful behind would even think about messing around on her husband? Not that I gave a shit. I've been messing around on mine for years. Besides, she's grown and can do whatever the hell she wants to do. What gives is that her ass has been giving me shit for years when she wasn't no better. Damn. I've been sweating her ass catching me alone and drilling me about John for nothing.
“Trevor, this is my sister Renee.”
I shook his hand. “The pleasure is all mine. So when did y'all meet?” I pried.
Lisa smiled up at him. “We met while snorkeling this afternoon.”
“Is that so?” I started smiling and shaking my head. Lisa's eyes narrowed as she suddenly realized what I was thinking.
She gave me a disappointed look. “It ain't nothing like that.”
“Gurl, whatever, your ass is grown. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do.” I laughed and patted her on the arm. “Look, y'all kids have fun. I'm going to get a drink.” As I pushed my way down the stairs, I started laughing again. Talk about calling the kettle black.
The entertainment had come to an end. I moved over to the bar and took a seat, then gestured for the bartender. A man I hadn't seen before took my order. He greeted me with a wide grin. He wasn't much to look at so I rolled my eyes and focused my attention to the left.
To the far right of the pool were Nadine and some brotha I couldn't see. She caught me staring and waved. I returned the gesture and swiveled on the stool. It was obvious to assume since she was nowhere around, Kayla was somewhere with Clayton.
Suddenly I started feeling sorry for myself. I don't know why I do that, but whenever I'm not the one getting attention, I feel that way. I like constant attention and to always be the main focus, yet right now I was getting neither. Instead, I was sitting all alone at the bar. Everyone had a hook-up but me. Okay, so maybe I was the first with a hook-up. How was I to know mine was going to be some no-dick fatal-attraction stalker, who, thank God, had gone home for the night? It just wasn't fair. All I have ever wanted in my life was to feel loved and return that same emotion with someone I feel is my equal. I'm a beautiful woman with a wonderful personality and a nice body, yet I can't even find a halfway-decent man. John pushed to the surface of my mind, and I groaned. Thinking about him only made matters worse.
“Mind if I sit here?”
I glanced over to my right and spotted a short round black dude with glasses standing beside me. Oh, Lord, can this night get any worse?
I shrugged. “It's a free country.”
“That's not what I asked you. I asked do you mind.”
I raised a brow at him. He looked like he was preparing for me to say no. However, I have to admit for an old head, he wasn't half bad. If I was my mama's age, I might have given his old ass some play. “Nah, I don't mind.” Satisfied by my answer, he took a seat.
“Okay, so let's try this again.” He held out his hand. “Hi, I'm Pierre.”
I shook his hand. “Hello, I'm Renee.”
The bartender returned with my drink and Pierre asked for a rum and Coke. I checked him out. He had a receding hairline, thick lips, and a thin mustache. His stomach sat in his lap. Good Lord, if he makes a pass at me I am going to scream.
“What brings you to Jamaica?”
I sipped my drink, then shrugged. “I'm hanging out with my girls.”
“That sounds like fun. I'm here for my son's wedding. You may have heard of him—Alex Houston.”
“The football player?” He nodded, beaming with pride. “Oh, no wonder there are so many players running around here.”
“Yes, he and Ayanna are getting married on Monday, right in the lobby.”
Ayanna must be that Hispanic chick that keeps mean-mugging me. I had half a mind to warn Pierre to check his future daughter-in-law before I stuck my foot so far up her ass they would be forced to postpone the wedding because of possible hemorrhoid swelling.
I stirred my drink and swung around on the stool and faced him. “Their wedding sounds like a beautiful event.”
While Pierre stared down at my legs, I took in the contours of his face and my eyes immediately zeroed in on the long nose hairs hanging from his right nostril. Damn. I shifted my eyes to the corner of the room and tried to focus on something else.
He slid his stool closer. “They're having karaoke tonight. You going?”
I almost fell out of my chair. Was that his breath? Damn, that shit smelled like chitterlings. “No,” I said while trying not to breathe. “We're hitting the town tonight.”
“Oh, yeah, where at?”
Good God Almighty! It
is
his breath. I leaned slightly back and rested a finger over my top lip, trying to shield myself from the funky smell. “I don't have the slightest idea. I'm just along for the ride.” I wasn't about to tell him where we were going. The last thing I needed was for him and his funky-ass breath showing up.
The bartender returned with his drink. Pierre ordered me another. I reached into my shoulder purse and removed a stick of gum. I stuck a piece in my mouth, then offered him one. Although in this case it was going to take two or three pieces to kill that skunk.
He shook his head. “No, thanks.”
“You sure?” I asked sweetly.
He chuckled. “Positively.”
Damn. I lowered the pack back into my purse and scowled. I just don't understand it. Why doesn't this old head understand that if a woman offers a breath mint or a piece of gum she is trying to tell him his breath stinks? I've seen it many times before. Shit, if someone offers me a piece, they don't have to ask me twice.
“Would you like to attend the wedding with me?” I heard him say.
I met his gaze and gave him a puzzled look. “Where's your wife?”
He gave a hearty laugh. “My soon-to-be ex-wife is here with her new fella. I came alone.”
“Oh.” That was all I could manage because he took a deep breath and blew a cloud of stank in my direction. I almost fell off the stool.
“What's wrong?” Pierre asked.
“Nothing,” I murmured as I leaned back.
His brow rose with curiosity. “Then why do you look like you're ready to run away?”
Was it that obvious? I sighed, then gave him a half-grin. “I'm fine, really.”
“So, would you like to go with me?”
I looked at him like he had lost his damn mind. “You don't know anything about me.”
He shrugged. “Other than you're beautiful, no, I guess I don't.”
I blushed. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome. So, how about it?” he asked as he reached for his drink.
“Maybe. If I see you before then I'll let you know.” I mean, damn, is he desperate or what? Who in their right mind meets a woman at a bar and invites them to their son's wedding? Although, I have to admit the offer is tempting. I love weddings and would love to see Ayanna's face when I show up at her wedding. If Pierre does something about his breath, I just might consider joining him. After all, Clayton will be there.
Chapter 33
RENEE
“
A
re you sure you want me to leave you pretty ladies here?” I glanced out the window of the hotel shuttle. The Pier was nothing more than a shack on the end of a raggedy-ass pier in the middle of a Jamaican ghetto. Nevertheless, I was down. The music coming from the building was hyped. Brothas in all shapes and sizes flooded the parking lot and up the ramp toward the club.
“Shit. Let's do the damn thing.” I saw the skeptical looks that the other three were giving each other and rolled my eyes. “Damn, y'all, this ain't no worse than kickin it at Lou's.” Lou's Lounge is our own neighborhood hole-in-the-wall.
Kayla was quick to disagree. “Uh-uh. At least we know everyone at Lou's.”
Nadine clicked her tongue. “I know that's right.”
They were silent for an entire minute.
“Forget y'all. I'm out.” I reached for the handle and was out the door before Lisa could grab my ass. I slid my dress back down over my hips, then strutted through the crowd. I kid you not, brothas moved like Moses had parted the Red Sea. Several tried grabbing my hand and drawing my attention, but I just kept on going, walking with my head held high and my small-ass titties stuck out as I switched my wide ass.
“Ho, slow yo roll!” I heard Nadine yell.
I giggled as I pivoted on my heels to find Lisa, Nadine, and Kayla coming up behind me. They looked pissed off, but I didn't care. All three had been getting mad play all day. Now it was my turn. “I knew y'all haters wouldn't leave me here alone.”
Lisa wagged a finger in my face. “That's what you get for thinking. The only reason why I got out of that shuttle was because I couldn't figure out which would be worse, this place or the ride back to the hotel.”
We all laughed.
The ride over had been one hell of an experience. The driver drove like a damn fool. Thank goodness someone else was scheduled to come back to get us at one.
They fell into step beside me and we moved up the wooden ramp toward the nightclub. Below was a breakwater of massive rocks. That old-ass thing rocked so much, I even had second thoughts about turning around. “Oh shit! Hold on 'fore this bitch collapses.”
We all held onto the railing and started cracking up. Obviously, we had all had too much to drink. Everyone but Kayla. I know for certain that if the other two had been sober there was no way they would have gotten out of that shuttle.
As we grew closer to the building, we came up to a small card table with two brothas sitting behind it.
“You ladies want some ganja?”
Kayla turned up her nose at the tall Rastafarian. “Ganja? That mess smells like weed.”
I nudged her in the side. “That is weed, dummy.”
“Want some ganja, mon?” his partner repeated.
“Hell, nah,” Nadine snapped as she moved through the door.
Kayla shook her head. “Y'all need Jesus.”
I have never been much of a weed smoker, but as they say, when in Rome do as the Romans do. My cousin told me you can find some of the best weed in Jamaica. Unfortunately no one else would even consider taking a hit so I decided to pass myself. I gave them an apologetic smile and followed Lisa inside.
As soon as we moved inside the building I started coughing. There was so much smoke we didn't need a hit because we were guaranteed to get high just from simply breathing. The place was packed and the music jumping. There weren't any lights. Thank goodness the back half of the building had been torn down, and the Pier was lit by moonlight. Twenty feet into the building was nothing but a pier over a large body of water. The entire shack was shaking and the wooden floor was rocking. I was too drunk to care about anything but getting my party on. Someone grabbed my hand and I allowed him to lead me out onto the dance floor.
Now I've watched enough Elephant Man and Sean Paul videos to know Jamaicans can dance their asses off. Shit, I couldn't keep up and didn't even try. I just swayed my hips and did what I do best—look good.
While I was dancing, I took a good look at my partner, who had a blunt hanging from between his lips. He offered. I declined. He stared, and even tried to touch. I kept dancing and smoothly removed his hand. And as soon as the song was over, I took the fuck off. I found Kayla standing near the bar, so I joined her.
“They sure know how to party.”
“Yes, they do.” I agreed as I watched Nadine try to keep up with her partner. She looked like a
Soul Train
reject. Even Kayla had to laugh at her girl.
I was wiggling my hips when I felt a hand at my waist. I swung around and my mouth fell open. It was a Taye Diggs lookalike. I did the only thing I could think of. I exhaled.

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