Cheesecake and Teardrops (14 page)

In keeping with tradition, Charisma, Heather, and Tangie got together on Christmas eve to exchange gifts. That year, Tangie played hostess. Charisma and Heather picked up a dozen hot and spicy Jamaican beef patties from Wilson's and headed over to Tangie's. They kicked back, opened gifts, and sipped champagne. It was well after midnight when they left.

 

Charisma spent Christmas with her parents. As she drove to their home, she was grateful that the weatherman was wrong about expecting three inches of snow that morning.

She parked in the driveway, unloaded the gifts from her car's trunk and walked up the steps to the house. Charisma let herself in. Her brother Eric was just pulling up in his car.

Jena whipped up breakfast for her husband and children and they sat down to eat. Afterward, they headed to the living room to open presents. Underneath the live seven-foot high Christmas tree were presents galore. Charisma got her mother a gold Greek key bracelet that she had been eyeing for months. Her father was so easy to please. He loved his royal blue silk pajamas, and her brother told her that for once she had bought him a fragrance set he could live with.

She jabbed him affectionately in the arm. Hours later, Charisma left with her gifts. She made out like a fat rat heading home with tri-colored gold earrings, a perfume gift set, champagne flutes, a jogging suit, and a leather jacket.

 

Heather and Tangie spent New Year's eve over Charisma's for their annual pajama party.

“You know what I need right now?” Charisma asked without waiting for an answer. “I need Ed Gordon to wrap those juicy lips around me and keep me warm tonight.”

“They're even juicier in person,” Heather recalled.

“You always did like those Clark Kent types, Charisma,” Tangie told her.

“Hey, two men for the price of one.” Charisma shrugged.

“What's wrong with that? So who's your switch flipper, Heather?”

“Terrence Howard,” Heather sighed. “Those sexy, green eyes and smooth baby skin, what I wouldn't do to him.”

“You're a nut,” Tangie told Heather, laughing. “But I wouldn't mind making it an LL Cool J night.” She refilled her flute with champagne. “Look at us. What's wrong with this picture? We are three thirtilicious women sitting home on New Year's eve fantasizing about men we will never have, let alone meet. Let's vow in the New Year to be all we can be and make things happen. And remember, ladies, behind every successful woman is herself.”

 

After the holidays Chase waltzed into Freeman LTD without a care in the world. Her layered blond locks curled gently before grazing the middle of her back. When she removed her mink coat, it was obvious that she was dripping in diamonds. Apparently, Santa had been good to her. Charisma took one look at her and decided she needed more caffeine.

 

Ellis Dearborn called his daughter late one Friday evening. He hadn't seen her since Christmas and was anxious to spend some time with his firstborn especially since he had run into her boss a few days earlier at the bank. Ellis had spoken frankly with Nate and told him he wanted to see him step up to the plate with his daughter.

“Don't think I haven't tried, Ellis, but we both know how stubborn Charisma can be.”

“She's just like her mother,” he had agreed. “I've never said this to another man before, but you have my blessings.”

 

Ellis and Charisma agreed to have breakfast Saturday morning at IHOP. Ellis picked up his daughter and they headed over to the restaurant. After a ten-minute wait, they were seated at a table for two. They each ordered coffee, buttermilk pancakes, and sausages—Ellis with an omelet, Charisma without.

Ellis got straight to the point. “So, princess, how's life been treating you?”

“Well, Daddy, work is basically back to normal after that Chase Martini fiasco.”

“And Nate?” he asked.

“He's still my boss, if that's what you mean,” she said simply.

“I think it's time that you start planning for your future.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know I love you and only want what's best for you. I hate seeing you waste the best years of your life with the wrong man,” he said, referring to Dex.

“Oh, and Nate's the One?”

“I know we've only met Nate once, but your mother and I think that he's the one for you.”

“Really?” she asked, matter-of-factly.

“Yes, really,” he said in return. “We know we can't force you to do anything you don't want to do. You're a grown woman, but for our sake, will you at least think about it?” he asked as the waitress returned with their meals.

“Daddy, you're really putting me in an awkward position.”

“How so?”

“I've never even dated a colleague, let alone my boss.”

“Stop being such a prude, Charisma. Office romances happen everyday. Many of them lead to marriage. We can all see that he's attracted to you, and all it would take is a little encouragement on your part to seal the deal.”

“And what if he's not who
I
want?” she asked.

“Then you haven't lost a thing. And another thing, who are you waiting for—Prince Charming? I hate to burst your bubble, but life isn't a fairy tale. I don't know if you realize it, but do you know what makes the best marriages?” he asked without waiting for an answer. “Men can be real dogs. The best marriages are when the man loves the woman a little more than she loves him. And that's the kind of marriage I think you'll have with Nate. Look, do your mother and I ask for much?” he asked, cutting into his omelet.

“No,” she admitted.

“Then will you do us this one favor and give Nate a chance?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she sighed, holding a forkful of pancakes and wondering why it was virtually impossible to say no to her daddy.

“Princess, if you remember nothing else in life, just know that I will love you forever and that you deserve joy.”

 

 

True to his word, Nate wasted no time stepping up his game with Charisma. First thing he did was invite her out for coffee, to which she asked for a rain check. So the next day he asked her out to lunch, another offer she coyly refused.

Then he got lucky. One night after work she had a flat tire. Since the office was nowhere near public transportation, she'd have to call a cab.

By the time Nate left the building, Charisma was sitting in the dark with her head down on the steering wheel. He walked over to her car and tapped on the driver's-side window, startling her.

She rolled down the window and explained to him that she had a flat.

“Do you have a spare?”

“I don't think so.”

“Pop open your trunk for me. You probably have a doughnut.”

She did as told. He had the tire changed in no time. She offered to pay him, but of course, he wouldn't hear of it.

He offered to follow her home just in case there were any more problems, but she wouldn't hear of it.

He pulled rank on her. “I insist,” he said simply. “What kind of man would I be if I let you go home alone, knowing that you're having car trouble? Charisma, if nothing else, I'm a gentleman.”

“Are you?” she teased him, smiling.

“Why don't you let me prove myself to you? Unless . . .”

“Unless what?” Charisma asked.

“Unless you're afraid of a
real
man. Some women can't handle one.”

“I'm not one of those women,” she said. “And to prove it, I really would appreciate it if you would follow me home.”

“Lead the way, Miss Dearborn. I'm right behind you.”

Charisma drove off with Nate behind her. She was home in no time. Like a perfect gentleman, he waited until she was safely inside. Just as he was about to pull off, he took one last glance at her house. She opened her door and quickly ran toward his car.

“I thought maybe you'd like to come in for a drink,” she said.

“I thought you'd never ask. Let me park, and I'll be right in.”

Nate ended up parking all the way down the block. Walking in the frigid air was a small price to pay to be in Charisma's company and off the clock at that. He hoped that her invitation was just the start of something interesting between them. He had told her father that he'd give it his best shot, and he was a man of his word. Charisma would have to meet him halfway. Maybe tonight she was finally ready to take that first step. He hadn't been to her house since he took her to see the Knicks that night. It was good to be back.

Nate rang her doorbell, and she welcomed him into the warmth of her living room, helping him off with his coat and scarf.

“Whew! It's cold out there.” He rubbed his hands together.

“Tell me about it. Why don't you sit down and thaw out. I'll be right out.” Charisma returned momentarily, totally relaxed in a white tank top and a pair of black leggings.

Nate looked down at her pedicure and couldn't stop grinning.

Apparently, he had a foot fetish, Charisma decided.

“Let me see if I remember,” she said, heading for the bar.

“A screwdriver with just a splash of cranberry juice.”

“You're good.” He smiled, loosening his tie and removing his jacket.

Charisma handed him his drink and poured herself a glass of white wine. She joined him on the sofa.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation?” He rolled up his sleeves. “It's warm in here.”

“Well, you came to my rescue tonight. I had to do something.”

“Thank you would have been enough, but why don't we do dinner?”

She looked at him for a minute.

“I've heard it a thousand times. You don't do windows, and you don't do bosses. Surely you do dinner?”

“And where will that lead?” she asked.

“Wherever you do or don't want it to.”

“You don't give up, do you?”

“That's why I'm the boss.”

“Yeah, you're
my
boss,” she reminded him.

“Let me ask you something. If I weren't your boss, would I stand a chance?”

“Maybe.”

“Let me tell you something. If I weren't your boss, I would've had you by now.”

“You're real sure of yourself, aren't you?”

“Just keeping it real.”

“How so?”

“Your biggest defense from day one has been that you don't do your bosses. Not that I'm not your type or we're not attracted to each other or we're not compatible. Am I right? It's always been our working relationship that's prevented me from going further. So all I'm saying is that if our nine-to-five relationship wasn't the issue, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. In fact, we'd probably be in your bedroom right now, wearing each other out.”

“You're something else. I don't know how much more I can take of this.”

“Stop fighting it. We both want the same thing. What is it about me that you fear most?” Nate asked.

Charisma took another sip of wine and thought for a moment.

“I guess I'm afraid of losing control.”

“That's not always a bad thing.”

“Well, I'd certainly be sacrificing my principles.”

“Gee, thanks a lot.”

“No, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that I'd be doing something totally against my character.”

“Sometimes people need to get outside their comfort zone.” He took the wine glass from her hand and placed it on the coffee table. They turned to face one another. He cupped her face in his hands. She covered his hands, still cold, with her own.

“Relax, baby,” he whispered in her ear.

She closed her eyes and kissed him, their tongues easing into the warmth.

“You're beautiful. Do you know that?” he whispered.

“And you're delicious,” she told him, ready for another kiss.

“I knew you'd taste like cinnamon toast,” he joked. “You play hard to get for months, and now you're giving me a hard-on.”

“What can I say, you wore me down.”

He slid his hand underneath her tank top and unhooked her bra. “All I want to do is please you, Charisma.” He kissed her tenderly.

She smiled up at him and began to unbutton his shirt.

Then she unzipped his fly. Nate kissed her hungrily. She moaned as she eased down onto the sofa.

Suddenly, Charisma's phone rang. She reached behind her head to answer it. Nate grabbed her hand. “Not this time,” he said. They wrestled playfully until her machine picked up.

It was her mother in tears. Nate hopped up, and Charisma quickly picked up the receiver.

“Mother, what's wrong?” Charisma asked. “Oh my God. Uh-huh. Which hospital? Okay, I'll meet you there.” Charisma looked at Nate with fear in her eyes. “I have to go. My father's in North Shore's emergency room.”

Nate stood, zipped up, and put his jacket back on. “I'll drive you. You don't need to get stranded on the road somewhere,” he said.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“It's the least I can do,” he said.

“Thanks, Nate. I owe you one.”

“Would you believe Tony still hasn't called?” Tangie exclaimed to Heather and Charisma over breakfast at IHOP.

“It hasn't been that long,” Charisma insisted, sliding a bacon strip in her mouth.

“It's been long enough,” Tangie decided.

“What's he like, anyway?” Heather asked.

“Let's just say he's got a thick . . . neck,” Tangie said. “But seriously, he definitely seemed interested,” she recalled.

“Did he give you his number?” Heather asked.

Tangie shook her head.

“Maybe he's married,” Heather said.

“I don't think so.” Tangie poured more syrup onto her buttermilk pancakes. “Maybe he's on a special assignment.”

“It's possible,” Charisma agreed.

“I don't know if I can handle getting involved with an FBI agent,” Tangie admitted.

Tangie kept herself busy so that she wouldn't think about Tony not calling. Even though she didn't know him that well, she had hoped that he'd be the
one
. Apparently, she was wrong. Again. She threw herself into work at the gym, practically doubling her paycheck with overtime. It was a shame that she needed a man or lack thereof to help get her finances straight.

Tangie was looking forward to spending a nice, quiet evening at home when Heather and Charisma called her to go ice-skating at Rockefeller Center. “You guys go ahead without me. I'm running on fumes,” she told them.

“It'll be fun,” Charisma said.

“All I want is sleep.” Tangie's bed felt like heaven. “Are we still on for tomorrow morning?” she yawned.

“Uh-huh. Are you sure you don't wanna join us?” Heather asked.

“Positive. Have fun,” Tangie insisted before hanging up.

Never mind counting sheep. Tangie always drifted off to sleep doing her Kegels. Nothing beat a tight coochie. By seven-thirty, Tangie was already in la-la land. Somewhere around nine her phone rang again, and she blindly reached for it.

“Hello,” she said groggily.

“Sounds like I called at a bad time.”

Tangie instantly perked up upon hearing the familiar male voice on the other end. It was Tony. She sat up in bed and turned on the lamp on her nightstand, secretly smiling.

“Not at all. I must've dozed off. I'm awake now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she told him.

“Feel like getting a bite to eat?”

“I'd love to. Where'd you have in mind?”

“What do you say we take a ride into Manhattan and have a nice dinner?” he suggested.

“Sounds like a plan,” she said softly.

“May I pick you up?”

“You certainly may.” Tangie began to give him her address.

“You don't think I'd get your phone number without getting your address?” He laughed and Tangie joined in. “What time shall I pick you up?”

Tangie checked the clock on her nightstand. “How about in an hour?”

“See you then,” he agreed.

Tangie hung up, giggling as she hugged her knees to her chest. It was amazing how the right call could revive her from the snatches of exhaustion. She was wide awake.

She jumped into the shower, pampering her skin with a fragrant body wash before wrapping herself in a thick, thirsty towel. Tangie then slathered on her favorite moisturizer and body lotion before heading back to her bedroom.

Next, came the hard part, deciding on something to wear.

Tangie had three outfits laid out across her bed, black denim jeans, black cords, and black suede pants. Okay, she tossed the jeans. Finally, she decided on the suede bootcuts, paired with her favorite lime green sweater, and black patent leather shoeties. The green of the sweater made her golden brown skin pop. She spritzed on perfume and returned to the bathroom where she proceeded to apply her makeup. Finally, she unwrapped her layered locks, pleased with the way they fell below her shoulders.

She checked her watch. Tony was due in less than ten minutes if traffic wasn't too heavy. Tangie suddenly became anxious. She practiced deep-breathing exercises to calm herself—in through the nose, out through the mouth. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, the doorbell ran. It was Tony.

“Hi,” she said simply. “Come on in.”

Tony walked through the door looking better than she had remembered. “Wow, you look great.” He kissed her gently on the cheek.

“Did you have any trouble finding me?” she asked.

“None at all.”

“Give me a second, and I'll be all set,” Tangie said, heading toward her bedroom. Finally she returned, grabbed her coat and purse from the sofa, and out the door they went.

Tangie laughed as Tony helped her into his silver CLK 350 Benz.

“What's so funny?” he asked her once he was in the driver's seat.

“Oh, nothing. It's just that this is my dream car.” She smiled.

“Is that right?”

She nodded.

“Well, maybe you'd like to drive.” He handed her the car keys.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Why not? I wanna be the man who makes your dreams come true. All of them.”

Tangie and Tony got out of the car, switched seats, and sped off. Tangie was loving it. The Benz rode nothing like her Nissan. Driving was pure pleasure, and they floated into the city like they were on a magic carpet. Tony instructed Tangie to park in a nearby garage, and she willingly obliged. Then they walked a few short blocks to the restaurant.

Tony wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulder, and she loved it along with the smell of his aftershave.

It was a frigid night, but she had refused to wear a hat and ruin her long, flowing mane.

Like most New York hot spots that night, Finger Lickin' was jam-packed. Even with reservations they had to wait, but Tangie didn't mind. The twenty minutes flew by and before long they were seated at a cozy little booth near the fireplace.

Tangie loved soul food. As she looked over the menu, each dish sounded better than the last. “So what do you suggest?” she finally asked Tony when she couldn't make up her mind.

“I'll tell you what,” he began. “The portions here are so huge that we can order two separate dishes, split them, and still walk out stuffed. And I promise not to hold it against you if you don't eat like a bird.”

“Eat like a bird? Don't let this size-six body fool you.”

“So now that I know your size, what's your favorite color?”

“Lime green,” she said simply.

“You wear it well.” He winked.

Tangie blushed ever so slightly at the compliment. The waiter came around to take their orders—smothered chicken with cabbage and macaroni and cheese and roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, and string beans. Tangie said her grace and they dove right in. The food was so well seasoned that Tangie flashed back to her grandmother's kitchen on any given Sunday. Wanting to make a good impression on their first real date, she tried to eat like the perfect lady, but it wasn't easy.

When they had both finished, Tony picked up her napkin.

“Hold still,” he said as he gently wiped the corner of her mouth. “So was it good for you too?”

“You have no idea.” She smiled.

“Trust me. It gets better,” he said, tossing her the car keys.

 

The next morning Tangie called Heather and Charisma.

“Mmm, I slept like a baby last night,” Tangie purred.

“Yeah, you were knocked out. We had a ball at Rockefeller Center,” Heather said. “You should've been there.”

“I had other plans. I hung out with Tony,” Tangie said, gloating.

“What?” Charisma asked. “I know you did not diss the sisterhood for a man.”

“Can I help it if I'm still a little boy crazy?” Tangie asked.

“A little?” Heather and Charisma said.

“Yeah, a little,” Tangie insisted.

“So how did it go?” Charisma asked.

“It was wonderful,” Tangie began. “He called me about an hour and a half after you guys and invited me out to dinner. We went to this new soul food place in the city. Oh my goodness, I ate like a pig.”

“Is he a good kisser?” Heather asked.

“Don't know,” Tangie said. “Yet.”

“Losing your touch?” Charisma teased.

“Don't think he didn't try,” Tangie told them. “I made sure it landed just a smidgen to the right of my lips. He walked me to my door, and I shook his hand. Playing a little hard to get never hurts any relationship. You know what they say, make a man chase it, before you let him taste it.”

“I hear ya,” Charisma agreed.

“What time is it?” Heather changed the subject.” We better get started if we're getting our hair and eyebrows done.”

“Be ready in an hour?” Tangie asked them. “I'll pick you both up.” Tangie said.

“Okay, see you in a little while,” Charisma said.

Tangie, Heather, and Charisma arrived at Daisy's somewhere around ten-thirty. It had been a struggle getting out of her nice, warm, inviting bed, but Tangie had promised to pick up her girls so she got up. Reluctantly, but she made it.

“
Hola, chicas,
” Daisy said as they entered her beauty shop. One of the things they liked about the Dominican salons is that they were in and out in no time. It was never an all-day affair.

Two hours later they were on their way to When We Were Queens to have Cinderella do their brows. Naturally, Cinderella had a shop full of women waiting to be waxed and tweezed, but she paused to greet them, kissing the girls on both cheeks. Cinderella fluttered around her customers, giving each the attention they deserved, applying lipsticks, foundation, and the like.

Amazingly, the shop emptied out and Cinderella was left with just Tangie, Charisma, and Heather. “So what's going on, my queens?” she asked them.

“I met someone,” Tangie said.

“You mean Blade's history?” Cinderella asked. “Thank God. Call the cops! Well, how'd you two meet, my queen?” she asked as she put wax on Tangie's brows.

“At a job fair,” Tangie admitted.

“I can tell you like him already. Just take it slow and get to know each other,” Cinderella advised.

Tangie nodded as Cinderella removed the wax from her eyebrows. She finished up with Charisma and Heather, and the girls left the shop with fresh brows and bags of cosmetics and skin-care products.

“Without God and you we truly cannot survive,” Cinderella reminded them as she hugged them good-bye.

Later that evening Tony called Tangie. She so wanted to accept his invitation for drinks but opted out. She had already mapped out her strategy, and there was no room for being too available. So she took a nice, hot bubble bath, had a nice big mug of hot chocolate, and called it a night.

Somewhere around eight o'clock her phone rang again.

She had just drifted off.

“Tangie?” It was Blade.

“What do you want?” she asked, punching her pillow.

“I'm in the hospital. I have two cracked ribs and a dislocated shoulder. I messed with the wrong people and got my ass kicked,” he whispered. “It's a long story.”

“Payback's a bitch.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So why are you calling me?”

“I'll be here a few days. I thought maybe you could stop by and visit. . . .”

“Listen, Blade. I'm sorry about your situation, but I don't have time for this.”

“Hold up, Tangie. Don't hang up.”

“Good-bye, Blade.” She clicked the phone in his ear and turned right over. She slept like a baby that night.

The next morning she received a very special delivery—a dozen lime green roses.