Waiting to Exhale (56 page)

And James. The man had backed up everything he said, and then some. Bernadine was still love-struck. And planned to stay that way. He'd be there for Christmas. He'd already found an apartment. His next step was setting up his law practice here. James said he wanted to see what he could do to help get the King referendum passed in this racist state. Once and for all. He'd already joined a coalition to stop the liquor board from allowing so many liquor stores in the black community. Savannah was even planning to do a show on it. The man was for real. James promised he wouldn't rush her. That he'd be patient. But now, Bernadine wanted to be rushed. She wanted to get this show on the road. Hell, she had her life back. The one she'd lost eleven years ago.

And now that she'd have the money to start her catering business, Bernadine didn't want to be bothered. She'd had a better dream. One that would see the light. Since these white folks were making a fortune selling these damn chocolate chip cookies, she'd open up her own little shop. Sell nothing but sweets, the kind black folks ate: blackberry cobbler, peach cobbler, sweet potato pie, bread pudding, banana pudding, rice pudding, lemon meringue pie, and pound "cake. She'd put it in the biggest mall in Scottsdale. Serve the finest gourmet coffee she could find: cappuccino and all those other ridiculous coffees everybody couldn't live without these days. She already had the name picked: Bernadine's Sweet Tooth. That sounded good. Yeah, she thought. It's got a real nice ring to it.

I ate like a bird. Afterwards, we were walking through the casino at Caesar's Palace, and Charles asked if I liked to gamble. "I'm gambling right now," I said. He gave me a peculiar look. I didn't know what had gotten into me, what was making me so bold. But hell, my heart was on cruise control. And I was loving every minute of it.

"What's your game?" he asked.