Too Close for Comfort (18 page)

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Ms. Natalie. Yaya, have a good trip.”

“She's nice. Who was that again?” Natalie asked, when Camille was gone.

“She's my new employee,” Yaya told her.

“Everything all right in here?” Fitz asked, passing Yaya the towels.

“Yes, everything is fine,” Yaya answered. She clicked her iPod on and found the playlist labeled ‘Gifted and Talented.'

As Chaka Khan began singing “I'm Every Woman,” she began swaying.

“Fitz, you can be excused. We'll call you when we're ready.”

Yaya worked tirelessly on Natalie's face as what she called her “I-am-woman, hear-me-roar” songs cheered her on.

She began by giving her an herbal facial.

By the time she finished applying her make-up, Natalie looked like a brand-new woman and was singing along with Gloria Gaynor's “I Will Survive.”

“Well . . . all done.” Yaya stood back and admired her work.

“Oh, my! I'm scared to look,” Natalie said.

“Why? Didn't we just get finished singing that you were beautiful, no matter what they say?” Yaya laughed. “You were beautiful before I even put the make-up on; this is just an enhancement, like rims on a car.”

“Uh, I wouldn't call it that.”

“I couldn't think of any other analogy. Let me get my mirror for you so you can see.”

“Wait,” Natalie said, as Yaya passed her the mirror.

“You look fine, trust me. No one would ever know you're turning sixty today.”

Natalie began laughing heartily.

Yaya placed the mirror in her hand, and she looked into it.

The laughter stopped, and she touched her face. Tears began to form. Gone was the ashen skin and sunken look of her face. She now looked years younger; her eyes were brighter, and she was glowing.

“What . . . you don't like it?” Yaya began to get nervous. “I can change it.”

“No, it's-it's-I . . .”

“What? I'm sorry, Ms. Natalie. Is it too much?” Yaya went and sat beside her and put her arms around her.

“It's beautiful. I've never seen myself like this. No one has ever done this for me before, not even at the television studio,” she whispered.

“‘Television studio'?” Yaya repeated. Then it dawned on her exactly who this woman was. “Oh my God, you're Natalie Frazier!”

“No, I
was
Natalie Frazier, now I'm Natalie Doles.”

“I knew I'd seen you somewhere before.”

Yaya recalled how, as a child, she grew up watching this beautiful black woman on the news every evening. Natalie Frazier was her idol.

“I wanted to be you when I grew up!”

“Honey, what you are now, what you just did is better than anything I could have ever done—you have a gift.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Uh, it's after five, Yaya, and you said your plane leaves at six-thirty.”

“Thanks, Fitz. You can come in now.” Yaya began packing her things quickly.

Fitzgerald walked in. They could hear him take a breath when he saw Natalie. “Oh my God, you look beautiful.”

“No, she was beautiful before I got here; now she's stunning.”

“Yeah, like some stunning rims on a car,” Natalie added.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. It's a woman thing, you wouldn't understand. Well, Ms. Natalie, I have a plane to catch. It has certainly been a pleasure this afternoon. And I hope to see you really soon. As a matter of fact, call and set up an appointment for next week because we really need to start doing a facial on you regularly, clear those toxins out of your skin.”

Yaya gave her a business card and a hug.

Natalie continued to primp in the mirror. “Shoot! Fitz, we may need to stop and get me a wig on the way to the restaurant.”

“I think you've created a monster.” He laughed as he carried her bags to the car.

“Good. I've been needing some company in the monster department anyway.”

“Thank you so much. Wow! I can't believe what you did to her. She's like a new woman. She's been acting like a zombie since she was released from the hospital last week. Wouldn't get out of bed or anything. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.” Yaya smiled and opened the trunk so he could put the bags in.

“‘Nothing'?—Didn't I tell you earlier about insulting me and my pockets?”

The way he was looking at her made her feel self-conscious. She rubbed the back of her neck. “I wasn't trying to insult your pockets. You just don't owe me anything, that's all. I gotta get outta here or I'm gonna miss my flight.”

“Have a safe trip.”

They both stood looking at each other for a few moments.

“Oh, wait, I almost forgot!” Yaya reached into the car and grabbed her camera. “I gotta take a picture.” She ran back inside.

“She's not gonna let you do that.”

Within seconds, she returned, showing him the screen, his aunt posing with the biggest smile he had ever seen.

“Now, what is this I hear about your not coming to your mother's house?”

“Nothing, Daddy,” Paige told her father as he walked through the door. She knew something had to be going on for him to drive all the way over here on a Friday night, rather than hang out and play cards with his buddies.

“Well, it's gotta be something—that's your mama.”

She sat down on the sofa, and he sat beside her.

“Daddy, she's letting Aunt Gayle and Celeste stay with her. You know I don't like them, and they don't like me. How could she even let them stay with her?”

“Paige, you know you sound ridiculous. That's her sister, and she's sick. You know your mama is gonna do everything in her power to help out. Now, if that means taking them in for a while, then so be it.”

“Then, I won't be going over there until they leave, so be it.” Paige laughed.

“So now you want your mother to be caught in the middle? You know your mama don't call me for nothing unless it's bothering her.”

“I don't want that at all.” Paige began picking at a thread on the arm of the sofa.

Her father was right. He and her mother separated when she was months old, and he still provided for her. After all this time, her mother never asked for anything, but he continued to pay all her bills, saying she was still his wife and he would always take care of her. They had the strangest relationship Paige had ever witnessed, but they were her parents and she loved them. She also knew that they loved each other too. She knew her mother was disappointed when she told her she had nothing to say to her once she found out she had taken in Aunt Gayle and Celeste. Now, knowing that she called her father, Paige knew her mother had been even more upset than she'd thought.

“Well, that's how she feels, and she's felt that way for a long time now. This thing with Celeste and Gayle has gotten out of hand. You all are coming to blows, now? Come on, I thought I raised you better than that.”

“You did, it's Celeste that was half-raised. I think you and Mama did a fine job myself; I'm not the crazy one. Think about it, Daddy—they could've gone and stayed with Aunt Connie, or look at that big house Meeko lives in. She would've gladly taken Aunt Gayle and Celeste in and hired a private nurse. I know for a fact she offered to do that and they declined. They moved in with Mama to cause dissension between me and her.”

“If that's the case, then their plan worked, because you and your mother are at odds. You told her not to bother coming to Myla's soccer game? Now that wasn't right.”

“Okay, I was wrong for that, and I'll call and apologize.” Paige nodded. “But I'm not going over there until they're gone for good.”

“Don't be like that, Paige.” He sighed. “I understand how you're feeling. There have always been some underlying issues with Gayle and Celeste.”

“I don't understand why, though, Daddy.”

“Well, I may be the cause of some of it.”

Paige looked over at her father. “Why? What did you do?”

“Well, back when we were younger, Gayle had a thing for me and I knew it. But I was interested in Jackie, so I became friends with Gayle to get in good with your mama.”

“Daddy, you used Aunt Gayle to get with Mama? That ain't right.” Paige shook her head.

“I didn't say it was something I was proud of. Well, to keep the peace, your mother and I kinda kept things under wraps for a while, but when Gayle found out, it wasn't pretty at all. She did everything in her power to make our lives miserable. And to this day, Gayle is still guilt-tripping your mother about it. She always says your mother took away her one chance at happiness.”

The story sounded so familiar, Paige felt like she was living it. In actuality, it was the same situation she found herself in, regarding Quincy and Celeste.

“Then Mama should understand what I'm going through,” Paige said. “Besides, Aunt Gayle married Celeste's dad.”

“And before she could give birth, he committed suicide, leaving a note saying he wasn't ready to be a father or a husband.”

“Wow! That's crazy. I never knew Celeste's dad did that.”

“Those two have been sad and depressed all their lives,” her father told her. “They want everyone else to be sad and depressed too. Don't let them get their satisfaction by seeing it happen—talk to your mother.”

“I'll talk to her, Daddy, but I'm not going over there.”

“Well, that's at least a start. What time is Ms. Myla coming home?”

“Camille took her and Jade down to the beach after they finished soccer practice.”

“Well, tell her I can't wait until her big game.” He stood up and gave her a big hug. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Daddy.”

“Oh my God! I think I'm in love! You have got to be the most beautiful woman in the world!”

Yaya cocked her head to the side and rolled her eyes. “You said the same thing to Sophia twenty minutes ago, Diesel, not to mention, you say it every time you see me.”

“And I mean it each time I say it, baby. I asked you to marry me a long time ago, and you turned me down.” He grabbed her hand, pulled her to him, and kissed her neck.

“You also asked Taryn that same night, along with three other dancers at the party.” Yaya tried to push him away.

“But I was only serious about you,” he said, looking into her eyes.

If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he was being honest, but she had learned a lot about Diesel over the years. She knew that there was no truth to what he was saying. She had fallen for his game twice and wasn't about to fall for it again.

The name
Diesel
suited him perfectly. He stood six feet, five, and he was big, but sexy. His caramel complexion, dark eyes, long lashes, and inviting smile were enough to have women at his beck and call. And his personality was an added bonus; seduction came naturally to him. People loved to be around Diesel, and Diesel loved people.

“So what are we doing tonight?” she asked.

“Well, I've already made arrangements for each of you to receive a full body massage in your suite once we've finished down here, for starters. I want all of you to be completely relaxed for tonight's festivities,” he told them, as they sat in the restaurant of the Marriott, eating brunch.

“And just what will we be doing tonight? And who will be attending?” Yaya asked. “I'm telling you, Diesel—you know I ain't down for any and everything.”

“Well, I am,” Gabrielle said, sexily.

Yaya ignored her. “I'm serious.”

“Calm down. You know I wouldn't even do you like that; you're my girl. Have I ever asked you to do anything out of the ordinary?”

Yaya gave him a knowing look.

“Okay, maybe I didn't phrase that right—Have I ever asked you to do anything to disrespect you and your body?”

She continued to stare. The look on her face didn't change.

“Damn, Yaya! You know what I mean. It ain't that type of party.”

Yaya asked again, “So what will we be doing?”

“Don't worry, you'll be doing the one thing I know you're the best at, baby.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You'll be making art.”

 

 

“Wow! I've never seen anything like this in my life,” Sophia said as they walked into the building where they were told to be.

The white walls of the corridors seemed to go on forever, and the ceiling was painted pitch-black, with white lights. Bright, bold, eclectic paintings hung on the walls. Techno music pumped loudly, and they could feel the bass through the floor.

“Is this where we're supposed to be?” Gabrielle asked. “I think we're the only people here; I don't see anyone else.”

“Yeah. The girl outside said the door at the end of the hallway. Come on.” Yaya looked around.

“I don't even see a door,” Sophia said.

They walked a little further and, sure enough, came upon a door. Yaya knocked and opened it at the same time.

“Welcome, ladies!” Diesel called out to them.

“Where the hell are we?” Yaya asked. “What is this place?”

“It's The Rouge,” Diesel told her.

They entered into a huge room. The walls were covered in mirrors and lights. There was a bar that spanned the entire length of the back wall, and a stage just as large in the front. On one end there was a DJ booth.

“It's a new club that's about to open in a few weeks. No one knows about it yet, except for the people coming tonight, so consider yourselves lucky. Come on, I'll show you to the back, where you can get changed.”

Diesel led them behind the stage area and into a large dressing room, where trays of fruit and bottled water awaited them. There was even a large vase of tulips, which he picked up and gave to her.

Yaya smiled. “For me?”

“I know they're your favorite.” He reached into the inside pocket of the black linen jacket he wore with his dark jeans, and placed an envelope in her hands.

She placed it into her Coach purse, without even opening it, knowing it held her normal fee, plus an added bonus. Diesel always hooked her up.

“You have about an hour to get changed, and then I can take you all onstage once everyone gets here.”

“Diesel, you haven't even told me how you want me to do their faces. I know you have a theme,” Yaya told him. “Where are the other dancers?”

“These two are it, and they won't be dancing.”

“Oh, hell no! What are we gonna be doing then?” Sophia looked like she was about to walk out.

“Modelling.”

“What are they wearing?” Yaya asked, now curious herself.

“Their bodies.” He smiled. “Come on, I'll show you.”

They followed him out the door and onto the stage. The curtains were closed, but they could hear male voices on the other side. Toward the front of the stage, in the middle, there were two white leather sofas and a nice-size oval table with buckets and brushes.

Yaya walked over and looked at the buckets and saw that it was paint. She realized what it is he wanted her to do. She looked over at Diesel and smiled at him. “You are crazy,” she said.

“That shit is gonna be so hot.” He nodded, seeing that she understood what he wanted.

“Come on, ladies,” she told them. “Let's go get ready.”

“I still don't get it.” Gabrielle sighed.

“Don't worry,” Yaya assured her, “it's gonna be fun.”

Diesel left the room, saying he'd be back to get them once the party got into full swing.

They went back into the dressing room, where Yaya changed her clothes. She went into her bag and took out a pair of scissors, removed the hundred-seventy-dollar jeans she wore, and began cutting them.

“What are you doing?” Sophia asked, wide-eyed.

“Getting my costume ready.” Yaya laughed.

Satisfied with her creation, she put on what were now short shorts with ravels hanging. She told the girls to undress completely, down to their panties. She was happy to see that they both wore lace thongs. She then oiled both their bodies down.

As she worked, her phone began ringing. She checked and saw that Jason was calling for the hundredth time. He had been calling, upset that she wasn't attending the retreat with him. He even tried to convince her to meet him Sunday morning, which she declined. She was beginning to see more and more that maybe there was some truth to what Monya and Taryn were telling her. She ignored the call and kept working.

Diesel's head popped in the door. “You guys ready?”

Yaya saw his eyes bulge when he saw the half-naked woman standing in the middle of the floor.

“No, she hasn't even started the make-up,” Gabrielle said.

“I'm not doing make-up,” Yaya said. She checked herself in the mirror. “Diesel, grab that bag and carry it out to the table for me. And I know you got me a drink waiting.”

“Apple Martini with a double-shot of Grey Goose already waiting for you, baby.” He grabbed the bag she was pointing to.

They walked back onto the stage. The music was on full blast now.

“What song you want?”

“Something slow and seductive to begin with.” She winked. She changed into a pair of black pumps and tied her blouse into a midriff shirt.

“Damn! Y'all are sexy as hell. These guys are about to flip the hell out,” Diesel told them.

They went out and took their places on the stage. Yaya told each lady to choose a sofa, lie down, and strike a sexy pose. She took a swallow of her drink and nodded to let Diesel know she was ready.

“What's up, fellas? You know we're glad you all decided to come out and hang with us, and since you're here, we want you to eat, drink and be entertained,” Diesel said into the microphone.

Someone yelled from the crowd, “That's right, D!”

“We know you got something for us, Diesel. Bring it on!”

“A'ight, a'ight. I wanted to do something unique, so I called up a friend of mine and asked her to come out here and do what she does best. So I present to you, Ms. Yaya and Mystique!”

The lights dimmed, and slowly the curtain opened.

Yaya could hear the opening music of Janet Jackson's “Any Time, Any Place.” She opened the can of paint and poured it into a small bowl. She glanced up at the audience and stretched seductively. As she looked out, she saw faces of professional athletes and rappers that she had seen over the years.
Damn! It's some ballers up in here!

Yaya walked over to Sophia and took each of her arms into her hands, then placed them over her head. “Arch your back,” Yaya told her softly. “Now lay back and smile softly.”

Sophia looked at her, doing what she was told. “What are you about to do?”

“Paint you.” Yaya took a brush, dipped it into the paint, and then placed it on Sophia's body, using soft strokes. The bronze color tinted her skin immediately.

“Daaaaaammmmmmnnnnn!” Men screamed as Yaya painted.

She began to concentrate on her task at hand, as a techno beat pumped along with Janet's singing. The lighting changed, and a red spotlight was on them.

Yaya took turns, sensually painting each of their bodies. It was a truly artistic experience, and Yaya enjoyed it.

The men seemed to be hypnotized by what she was doing, especially when she lifted breasts and spread their legs to paint.

Camera phones were everywhere, and Gabrielle and Sophia even posed and smiled.

“I've never seen anything like this before,” Yaya heard one man say. “What's your name?”

Yaya turned to see one of the country's hottest rappers talking to her. “Qianna.”

“That's what's up.” He raised his drink to her.

As if they were just now discovering that she could talk, men began walking up to the stage, making comments and asking Yaya and the girl's questions.

They had a blast, being the center of attention, and Yaya was in her element. She couldn't help noticing that the few women in attendance didn't seem pleased with their artistic display.

“Excuse me, Ms. Yaya, how much would you charge to do my lady friend right here for me?” One guy pointed to a lady who was holding on to his arm so tight, it looked like she was made on to it.

Yaya recognized him as a player for the Lakers. She had been to a couple of parties that he had been to. The woman on his arm wasn't the wife he was usually with.

“I didn't say I wanted to do that.” The girl turned her nose up at Yaya and then looked at him.

“Fine then.” He removed his arm from hers.

Another girl was walking by, and he spoke to her, whispering into her ear.

The girl laughed and nodded her head.

He looked back at Yaya. “Ms. Yaya, how much would you charge me to paint her?”

Yaya looked up from Sophia's legs. “A thousand dollars.”

“Done!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

“You're serious?” She looked over at the girl he was pointing to, a pretty young woman who looked to be no more than nineteen.

“I don't mind,” the girl said, looking eager.

“You can go get changed in the back then.” Yaya pointed.

The first female hissed at the basketball player. “What the hell do you think you're doing? How are you going to just push me aside like I'm a nobody?”

“You are.” He laughed. “You ain't nobody special, besides, I would rather see her painted than you anyway—she has a better ass.”

The woman stormed away in anger, as the crowd of men laughed.

“You know you were wrong.” Yaya shook her head at the guy.

“I'm sorry, Ms. Yaya, but ol' girl needs to remember her place. She's up in here acting like she ain't
paid
to be here.” He laughed. “No disrespect to you or your beautiful models up there, but with you all we know your sole purpose is entertainment
for
the party. With ol' girl, she's entertainment for the
after
party, know what I mean, fellas?”

“True dat, man.”

The guys around him laughed.

Yaya turned her attention back to Sophia and Gabrielle, telling them they could go ahead and change into their clothes, and mingle with the guests if they wanted to.

“Uh, can I just wear a robe?” Sophia looked down at her bronze body. “I'm not putting my BCBG dress over this paint. Is this stuff even gonna wash off?”

“Girl, yeah, it'll wash off, that's why I oiled you down first. When you jump in the shower, you'll see.” Yaya laughed. “I'm about to grab something to eat right quick.”

“Is that girl really gonna get up here?” Gabrielle asked.

Yaya admired her own artistry. This was a wonderful idea, and she was glad Diesel had thought of it.

“She says she is, and he's already paid me.” Yaya laughed. “If she doesn't, he's not getting a refund either.”

“I know that's right.” Sophia laughed.

“Excuse me, can I get a picture with you three?” someone asked.

Yaya looked over at the other girls. “Sure.”