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Authors: La Jill Hunt

Too Close for Comfort (16 page)

BOOK: Too Close for Comfort
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Chapter 21
“You want me to back everything up on a disc in case something happens, like—God forbid—the computer crashes?”
“I think that's a great idea.”
“At least, that way you'll still have copies of your client master list if you are traveling. They have the cutest jump drives now that fit right on your keychain. If you're doing an event in L.A. and you need a model at the last minute, you can go right to the hotel computer, pop it into the drive, and there you have the master list.”
“Girl, you are the bomb! I don't know what I'd do without you and today's your first day.”
Yaya stood outside Taryn's office and listened.
She must be talking to her new personal assistant
. She entered her own office.
She was worn out, physically and emotionally. After everything that happened Saturday night, Jason was back to playing this cat-and-mouse game. He was really tripping, and she was irritated.
Then, to top things off, Quincy seemed to be a walking emotional wreck. She had never seen her brother so let down. If she didn't know any better, she'd think that having him find out about Paige cheating with Marlon was a bad thing.
She put her things away and walked back into the salon. “Where's Celeste?” She looked over at Monya, who had finished one client and was already working on another one.
“Remember she said something about having to take her mom to the doctor or something this week?”
“That's right.” She sat at the receptionist desk. There were sticky pads all over with half-written messages. Some were even for her.
I know we gave this girl a message book to keep messages in and told her she could put them in our individual mailboxes on the office doors
.
“Hey, Yaya,” Taryn said. “You remember Camille, right?”
Yaya turned to see the pretty girl standing beside Taryn. She was sharply dressed in white linen pants and a black halter-top. Yaya actually owned a pair of the same Kenneth Cole black sandals the girl had on her feet.
“Oh, yes, I remember her. How are you?”
“I'm great. It's nice seeing you again.” Camille smiled.
“Camille is my new personal assistant, Yaya.” Taryn smiled.
“I'm sure you'll do a fine job, Camille. Feel free to ask for help in any way.” Yaya turned to Taryn. “Can I see you in the back for a minute?”
“Sure. Camille, we'll be right back.” Taryn followed Yaya to the back.
“What the hell are you doing? You know that girl is Paige's ex-boyfriend's sister! She lives with Paige.”
“What?” Taryn frowned. “And?”
“I don't need any drama around here. Okay, you know Paige and Quincy broke up,” Yaya whispered.
“And?” Taryn continued to stare at her like she was speaking a foreign language.
“If she's working here, that means Paige is gonna stop by or come visit.”
“She does that anyway, Yaya; she's my regular client.” Taryn sighed. “Look, I'm sure that Quincy and Paige won't be running into each other here at the salon. He only comes by here like once a week at the most. And if she does happen to be here, then I believe they are adult enough to remain civil to one another.”
“But what if Quincy begins dating someone else who becomes a client, won't that cause problems?” Yaya asked. “Then Camille will go back and tell Paige about Quincy's new girlfriend.”
“Yaya, you sound like you're in the sixth grade. Here at this salon, we're all about business. And, remember, Camille is my personal assistant—I'm paying her, not After Effex.”
They walked back into the salon.
“Thanks for calling After Effex, where before and after are never the same.
“She's not available at the moment. Is there something I can help you with this morning?” Camille placed her hand over the phone. “Monya is sorta busy, and the phone was ringing, so I just answered it. Is that okay?”
“That's great.” Taryn smiled at Camille and winked at Yaya. “Tell you what—why don't you hang out here and cover the phones since Celeste isn't coming in?”
“‘Celeste'?” Camille had a strange look on her face.
“Yes. Celeste is our receptionist. She hasn't made it in yet,” Yaya answered. “You don't have to answer the phones; I know that's not what you're being paid to do.”
“Uh, I don't have a problem covering the phones. That's cool.” Camille shrugged and sat down.
Within minutes, it was as if she was a pro who had been working there for years.
“Yaya, you have some messages,” Camille told her later that afternoon, as she was about to leave. “I was about to put them in the inbox hanging on your office door. I'll see you all tomorrow.”
“Bye, Camille. Thanks for everything!” Taryn waved.
“Have a good evening,” Monya called to her.
“Thanks, Camille.”
“I like her,” Monya announced.
“Me too. That's why I hired her.”
“Whatever.” Yaya flipped through the neatly written messages that had actual time and dates written on them. She stopped when she came to one from Diesel. She became excited, and rushed to call her long-time buddy, who was a radio personality and party promoter.
“What's up, Miss Q?” he greeted her.
“My man, Diesel, what the hell is going on?” She laughed.
“Yo, I got a job for you. It's a big one!”
“You know I'm down for it. What's going on?”
“I need you to meet me in D.C. next weekend, and bring me two of your hottest girls!”
“Next weekend?” Yaya looked on her calendar: She had a face to do for a girl's engagement photos. “Hold on, let me check something. Don't hang up.
T
, can you cover for me next Saturday at two? I'm supposed to do a face for some engagement pictures, it's not that hard. The girl is really cute.”
Taryn looked over at her. “Let me get Camille to check my schedule, and I'll let you know.”
“You're trying to be funny,
T
. Come on, Diesel wants me to fly to D.C. for a gig.”
“Oh, goodness, Yaya . . . you and Diesel, I swear . . .” She sighed. “Fine, but you owe me.”
“Thanks,
T.
You're the best!” Yaya ran back into her office and told him. “It's a done deal. I can come. So what do you need?”
“Two of your hottest chicks, and I mean, the baddest chicks you've ever worked with—I don't care where you have to fly them from—money is no object.”
“This is all-expenses-paid, right?”
“No doubt. It's gonna be a two-day trip. Fly in Saturday and fly out Sunday. Anything before or after that is on you. Yaya, I'm depending on you because this shit is about to be off the chain.”
“I know it is,” Yaya told him. She mentally began going through her top clients. She had so many to choose from. She also knew that any party Diesel threw, there were gonna be some ballers there, and she couldn't bring any chicken-heads with her who would be star-struck.
The guest list for the last party she did for Diesel included Larenz Tate, Tyrese, Chris Webber, Chauncey Billups, Ben and Rasheed Wallace, just to name a few.
She was almost star-struck herself, but remained focused as she transformed six of the finest girls she worked with into zoo animals in bikinis. Once painted, they climbed into cages, where they danced the night away. It was a great event.
“What exactly are you thinking about, Diesel?”
“You know I can't tell you that until you get here. Just bring the two chicks . . . make one light and one dark—yeah, that's gonna be hot. Oh, and don't forget your make-up.”
“Diesel, you know me and my girls don't do the freaky stuff, right?”
“Girl, you know I respect you more than that. Call me and let me know what time you all will be arriving, so I can have a car waiting.”
“Will do.” Yaya hung up the phone. She decided that her best bets would be Sophia and Gabrielle. Sophia was Haitian by birth and lived in Miami. She had the darkest, most beautiful complexion Yaya had ever worked with. Gabrielle was her Puerto Rican party girl, living in Dallas. Her body was banging enough to make J-Lo bow down.
She called both girls to check their availability and see if they were down for the trip. She knew that both of them were cool enough to party with, but sophisticated enough to act like ladies. Both were flattered to be considered and agreed to the job.
“What do you and Diesel have going on?” Monya asked.
“You know I never know until I get there.” Yaya laughed. “Whatever it is, it will be memorable. You should tag along. He said he needs two girls, but I'm sure he'll take three.”
“I don't think so.” Monya laughed. “Those days of my life are long gone.”
“Please . . . you act like you're old—I can't believe Celeste didn't show up. I hope everything's okay.”
“Maybe you should call,” Taryn told her.
“Yeah, I guess I should.” Yaya sighed.
Just as she was about to dial the number, Quincy pulled in front of the shop.
She ran out to greet her brother. “Hey,
Q
!” She gave him a hug.
“What's up, Yaya,” he said, not sounding himself.
She knew he would still be hurting behind Paige, but not like this. His clothes seemed to be rumpled and of all things; he needed a haircut.
“You look terrible,
Q
,” she told him.
“Gee, thanks. I feel worse, believe that. Man, I'm tired as hell, and I just can't get myself together.”
“Don't get like this,
Q
. You know everything is gonna work out; they always do. You just gotta get over that girl, I'm telling you. She's not even worth you stressing about her.”
“Then how come I don't feel that way, Yaya? You know me better than anyone. When I'm done with someone, I'm done. Every relationship I've been in that didn't work out, I knew there was a reason behind it, and I was cool with it.
“This one is different, I know it. I just can't figure this out.
It's crazy because I don't even know where the damn picture came from or even who took it. It's like it appeared out of nowhere.”
Yaya nodded as her brother talked. She was glad that she and Celeste decided to send it from a pre-paid phone that they'd bought from a guy in the shop. Once they sent the picture, they threw the phone away.
“I don't know,
Q
, everything done in the dark comes to light. Just be glad you found out now and not later. Think about if you really had asked her to marry you—better yet, you had married her.”
“That sounds good and all, but it doesn't make me feel better, or love her any less.”
“
Q
, don't be stupid. How could you say that about a girl that was cheating on you in broad daylight with her ex-boyfriend who's married? What does that say about her? If she really loved you, would she have done that?” Yaya could not believe he was standing here still saying he loved this girl. Paige had to have put a root or some type of spell on him.
“I was thinking, maybe he sent the picture.”
“Who?”
“Marlon. Maybe he did it to be funny.” Quincy leaned on the edge of his car and looked deep in thought.
Yaya folded her arms. “Why would Marlon send it?”
“To cause us to break up. I know he's still trying to get her back. He still loves her. I've heard him say it myself.”
“Quincy, you're trying to make sense out of nonsense. He doesn't have to break you all up. They're together, even though he's married. Just let it go,
Q
. Move on. You've got enough stress with opening the new shop and everything else. It's her loss.”
“Then why do I feel like I'm the one that lost everything?”
Suddenly, his attention turned to a jeep that pulled beside his.
The door opened. Camille got out, followed by the cute little girl Yaya remembered meeting at the grand opening.
She ran over and hopped into Quincy's arms. “Hi, Mr. Quincy.” The little girl grinned.
“Hey, Ms. Myla.” He kissed her on the cheek.
He let Camille know that everything was okay, and she went into the salon.
“Guess what?”
“What?” Quincy put the little girl down and tugged on one of her ponytails.
“I'm gonna play soccer.”
“‘Soccer'?—that's for boys.”
“No, it's not!”
“Girls are supposed to be cheerleaders.”
“I'm going to be one of those too,” she said. “But I'm going to play soccer this summer and then be a cheerleader for football season.”
“You sound like you're gonna be pretty busy, Ms. Myla.”
“Not too busy to go for a ride on your bike.” Her eyes widened, and she grinned, showing her dimples. “We can go after my games, okay?”
“Myla, come on, let's go,” Camille called, when she came out the door.
“What's up, Camille?” He gave her a half-smile. “I keep forgetting Paige gave you the jeep.”
“And I'm loving it too! Come on, Myla, we gotta go.”
“Okay, bye, Mr. Quincy. I'll see you later.” Myla hugged him tight. “Are you coming over to our house tonight?”
Quincy leaned over and looked into her eyes.
Yaya could see the love her brother had for the little girl.
“I have to work, Myla, but I promise I will be at your first game.”
“I know you will.” Myla ran and jumped into the jeep.
BOOK: Too Close for Comfort
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