Dream Girl Awakened (24 page)

“What kind of friend am I?”

Roberta observed the longing in Tawatha's eyes as she watched Lake and Lasheera.

“If you're patient, you can have the same kind of relationship. Trust me.”

Tawatha swigged her juice once more.
Why am I the only one unlucky in love
?

J
ames waited outside Winston's practice. He wanted to catch him early, before his momentum waned. He'd rehearsed how to approach Winston, but now he wasn't sure if this was the right place or the right time. He thought of driving off or coming back later in the day. He staved off his doubt when he saw Winston coast into his designated spot.

Winston exited his Range Rover, engaged in conversation with Aruba. They'd driven to Ann Arbor, Michigan for the weekend. His morning mission was to allay her fears about Jeremiah seeing them together. They assured Jeremiah the trip was for Nicolette's birthday presents. They did not embrace or show affectionate emotions in his presence. A twinge of guilt rose up in Winston as James advanced him.

“Winston, how are you this morning?” James reached out to shake Winston's hand.

“Babe, let me call you back a little later. Take care.” Winston shook James's hand and waited for the nature of his unannounced visit.

“I have an urgent matter I need to discuss with you.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I don't think it can wait.”

“Step into my office. It's cold out here.”

The men stepped in stride toward Winston's building. James quivered at the sight of the bold, black lettering on the door:
Faulk Cardiology
. Just one name. Only one man running the show.
Someday
 . . . James allowed the thought to trail off.

“Hold my calls,” Winston said to his receptionist.

The appointment schedulers smiled at James as he strolled by. There was a time he would have stopped to chat with the women, but today was about business. He strode into Winston's office, removed his coat, and took a seat. He ran his fingers through his dreadlocks, then set his briefcase on the floor near Winston's desk.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” asked Winston. His poker face was in full effect.

“It's about you and Aruba.”

“Aruba?”

“Well, both of you.”

“Listen, Aruba and I do have—”

“I need to get this out before I lose the nerve. Hear me out.”

Winston leaned back in his seat. He wondered the best way to explain the affair. There was no other word to describe the situation. His feelings grew more each day for Aruba. It wasn't fair to either of them to remain in loveless marriages.

“When I saw you and Aruba—”

“I can explain—”

“Let me finish, please.” James sighed in exasperation and shifted in his seat. This was proving to be more difficult than he imagined. “When I saw you together at the hospital last year after the accident, I was so angry that I could have fought someone. I know I was at fault, but seeing another man taking care of business where my family is concerned really pissed, I mean, ticked me off.”

Winston's shoulders relaxed. “I merely drove her to the hospital. That's what any friend would have done.”

“I shouldn't have been there under those circumstances in the first place.”

“I never judged you about that night. Go on.”

“I've made a lot of mistakes. Most of which I'm sure you know about since Aruba and Victoria are friends. I haven't always done right by my family.”

“Who amongst us is perfect, James?”

“Swallowing my pride like this is difficult, but I'm here because . . .”

Winston sensed his trepidation. “Take your time, James. Thursdays are my slowest days. My first patient isn't due in until eleven this morning.”

“You gave me your business card at the hospital and asked me to reach out to you if I needed anything. You said the same thing at the cookout. I'm here to ask for your assistance in a business venture.”

“Business venture?”

“For the longest time, I've wanted my own salon, but couldn't get start-up capital. Aruba was always on me about getting my financial house in order, but I wouldn't listen. I can't lie; I want my family back. They say you don't miss your water . . . you know what I mean. I want Aruba to be proud of me. I want to provide for her.”

“How can
I
help make that a reality?”

“I've been turned down by every bank I've approached. Credit issues and no collateral have made it impossible to get a loan. I've been seeking angel investors and thought I'd ask if you'd be interested in assisting me. I'm not asking you to give me anything. I'm willing to sign whatever agreement necessary to assure I'll pay you back. Angels usually give funds, but I don't want to owe you anything.”

“What would I be investing in?”

James grabbed his briefcase from the floor. He proudly handed Winston a copy of his business plan. He'd spent the last three months under Katrina's and Isaak's wings, researching his possibilities, investigating demographics, and anticipating the highs and lows of
owning a salon. Winston was the third investor he'd approached. With each pitch, he gained more confidence.

“Dixon's Hair Affair will be a full-service beauty salon dedicated to consistently providing impeccable customer satisfaction. In addition to rendering excellent service, quality products, and furnishing an enjoyable atmosphere at an acceptable price/value relationship, we will also maintain a friendly, fair, and creative work environment, which will respect diversity, ideas, and hard work. This will be an upscale salon that caters to our customers' physical appearance and mental well-being. Our motto will be ‘Leave Your Worries At the Door.' ”

“Where are you looking to house the business?”

“I found a nice location on Illinois Street. The previous owners had begun renovations a year-and-a-half ago, but pulled out due to economic hardship.”

“How far did they get on the renovations?”

“About ninety-five percent. The most I'd have to do is buy equipment, hire contractors to complete drywall in the building's exterior, and hire an electrician to assure the wiring is up to code.”

“How will you market Dixon's Hair Affair?” Winston asked the question as he flipped from the executive summary to the financial plan.

“Word of mouth is key in the salon business. I don't want to toot my own horn, but I can handle a head of hair.”

Winston paused to read through the plan in greater detail. “I'm impressed with your projected cash flow, proforma, and breakeven analysis. Take me through the personnel plan.”

“I've cultivated friendships over the years with barbers and stylists throughout the city. Quite a few are excited about coming on board to be a part of Dixon's. I plan to have six stylists, two barbers, two
nail techs, a facialist, and a massage therapist. Turn to page seven for staff breakdown and salaries.”

Winston continued reading. Clearly, James had done his legwork and was serious about starting a business. He meant what he said when he offered assistance almost a year ago, but things had changed so much. He'd crossed too many lines to turn back, yet James's determination struck a chord with him. He saw in him the same hunger, the same eagerness he himself had when he started his practice.

“Let me keep the plan and get back with you in a week or so. I have to run a few things past my accountant. I also know a few people in the business who might be able to come alongside you and be of help. I don't want to make any promises, but I assure you we'll meet in a week. I'm proud of you and want to see you get your business up and running.”

James stood to shake Winston's hand. Isaak's words crept up as he fought to contain his excitement: “Premature excitement is worse than failure because it shows others you have no control over your emotions.”

“If you back me, you won't be sorry, Winston. I just ask that you don't share the news with Victoria. I fear that if she knows, Aruba will know.”

“Your secret is safe with me. Trust me.”

FROM: Bria Hines

TO: Lasheera Atkins

CC: Aruba Dixon

SUBJECT: Office Assistance

Lasheera:

I have an enormous mail-out that has to be completed by noon. Please come to my office ASAP to help me complete this task.

Bria

Lasheera's eyes were crossed from the stack of documents she'd edited for Aruba, so a mailing would be a welcomed change. Bria rarely asked for help, so the mailing had to be important. Grateful that Bria had cc'd Aruba on the email, Lasheera felt relieved she didn't have to rush back for anything since Aruba would know her whereabouts.

Bria greeted Lasheera at her office door, ushering her in with a sense of immediacy. Bria locked the door. “Have a seat at the roundtable.”

“Do I need to make copies of anything? Also, will everything be collated and stapled, or are the documents singles?”

“Do you see any paper around here, Lasheera?”

Lasheera looked around, puzzled by the blank table. “No. I want to know what to get, so we can get started.”

“I knew you'd be perfect in helping me. If anyone can keep a tight lid on things, it's you.”

“A tight lid?”

“For Aruba's birthday party. I'm planning a surprise party for her at Bella Vita's. Her birthday is in three months and I want to get a jumpstart on the festivities. She is the last person on earth you can fool with a surprise party. She is the hostess with the mostess, and it's hard getting over on her. This year's gonna be different, though. That's why I pulled you in to help with the gag. Trust me, it will be a classy soiree; she just won't know about it.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“We'll start with the guest list and theme today.”

“Wow . . . a theme? I can't wait.”

“We're having a dream girl party.”

“Dream girl? Are you talking Motown, bouffant hairdos, and sequins? I can't hold a tune in a bucket, so I hope we don't have to sing.”

“Heavens no. You would probably be surprised to know it's an idea from our childhood.”

“You grew up together?”

“Georgia peaches. We were raised in Harlem 'til I moved to Atlanta, but I always visited during the summers. You mean to tell me you never had any Southern relatives you hung out with during the summer months?”

“No. There seemed to be tension between my mom and her siblings in Mississippi. I do have a goal of fellowshipping with them soon.”

“When we were twelve, Aruba's aunt, Alita Ruth, came up with the dream girl concept. Our neighbor, Hermilla Jones, got a wild hair up her butt and abandoned her daughter, Maria. Never mind that it was Maria's twelfth birthday, or that Hermilla's mother had
suffered a stroke in the wee hours of that morning. Something snapped inside her. Perhaps it was being Leotis's wife, perhaps it was not fulfilling whatever she wanted in life, but Alita was out in her yard planting those azaleas and hollyhocks when Hermilla rambled out of her house with a suitcase in her hand. Alita Ruth yelled out to Hermilla for a progress report on her mom, but Hermilla kept stepping until she was out of Alita's sight.

“That's when Maria came out on the porch, plopped down in a ruby red glider, and turned up the volume on her portable CD player, her birthday gift from Hermilla. She sat there rocking back and forth a while, holding back tears, wondering if anyone saw her. The South is the South, so news of Hermilla's departure spread like wildfire. The girls on the street thought they would shun Maria, but Alita Ruth wasn't having it. In two hours, she planned a party at her house for Maria, threatening all the girls on the street with death if they didn't attend. All the girls had to bring Maria one gift-wrapped item along with a colorful card Alita made. On the card was your dream. Some of the girls wanted to be nurses, doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs; others had less lofty dreams like planting a beautiful garden, making straight A's the next school term, or marrying and having a good family. Alita Ruth told us whenever we felt doubt, hold on to those cards as a reminder that a dream lived inside us.”

“Do you mean Maria Jones, the movie producer?”

“The one and only. I was there when she wrote ‘Hollywood movie producer' on that card. Aruba and I flew out to L.A. to see her two years ago, and she still had that card. She laminated it her junior year of high school.”

“That's why the industry calls her the ‘female Walt Disney.' Most of her movies and HBO specials feature a mother abandoning a child.”

“I wouldn't go that far. The community really enveloped her with love and support after Hermilla left.”

“What happened to Hermilla?”

“VA Hospital in Augusta, Georgia. Maria visits her whenever time permits.”

Lasheera took in the concept. She couldn't remember a time when
lots
of people were part of her life. Tawatha and Jamilah were her aces. She feared having
lots
of folks in her circle until her pastor said one day, “If you're the smartest person in your circle, your circle is too small.” Aruba and Bria seemed to know fascinating people as evidenced by the guest list.

“That's a long guest list.”

“I know, right?”

“Who are all these folks?”

“Quiet as it's kept, Aruba is very popular. She downplays it, but she has touched the lives of many people and they aren't ashamed to show their appreciation. Before she got married, she was always volunteering. She's also an anonymous donor to people and causes. I can assure you that list ranges from CEOs to welfare recipients.”