Too Close for Comfort (3 page)

“I figured she didn't since that wasn't the first thing you asked when you got out the car.” Monya giggled and went on to tell the complete story.

Yaya rolled her eyes at her as she talked.

“Well, that explains the raggedy look you're rocking today. Oh, my goodness, Yaya, I know you ain't chance going to jail, when you know you had to pick me up from the airport.”

“I know you were pissed after you had to wait over thirty minutes for her to get there,” Monya continued.

“Yaya!” Taryn gasped.

“Monya, your ass can't hold water,” Yaya hissed.

Monya was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face.

“
T
, shut up. Your flight was delayed anyway. And I wasn't going to jail.”

“I don't know, Yaya, I got a feeling Jason was about to send the cops to your house if I wouldn'ta pulled up when I did.”

“Jason better be glad
I
didn't call the cops on him about my car.” Yaya folded her arms and sat on the barstool.

“He didn't even know the girl had your car, Yaya,” Monya told her.

“What?” Yaya and Taryn said at the same time.

“Yep, at least not until he got a call from Travis.”

“‘Travis'?—What the hell did he have to do with it?” Yaya was confused.

“I shoulda known he had something to do with it.”

“Well, it turns out Travis had a fight party last night at his house, which means mad chickenheads were there, probably. Anyway, they were running low on beer, and he sent some chick to the store. For some reason, she thought the car was his. I guess the dumb broad ain't read the tag, especially since it has
MS
on it. She tells him she's never driven a Lexus before. He gets the keys from Jason and sends her on the beer run. The rest is history.”

Yaya closed her eyes as she listened to Monya.
Travis . . . all this because of Travis and one of his whores.

“Oh my God,” Taryn hummed. “What are you gonna do?”

That was the exact same question that was running through Yaya's head. The problem was, she didn't know the answer.

“I know you tried to knock her out.”

“You know I did,” Paige told her best friend, Nina. They were sitting in the living room of Paige's mother's house, waiting on her to return with Myla and Nina's niece, Jade, who Nina had custody of.

“What in the world made her think she could give those girls a paternity test?”

“Ms. Lucille, girl. She always said that Myla wasn't Marlon's child. You know her and Kasey probably had this planned for months. Marlon getting the girls on Sunday gave them the opportunity they were waiting for. It was probably their idea for him to get them, and he was too dumb to realize they were up to something.”

“What did Rachel say?” Nina asked, referring to Savannah's mother.

“Savannah is no longer allowed over there—simple as that.”

Nina's phone rang. “Hello, hey there. Yes . . . uh-huh . . . that sounds good . . . let me check on something, and I'll let you know . . . it was nice to hear your voice too.” Nina giggled. “Bye.”

Paige looked at the wide grin on Nina's face. “And who was that?”

“A friend.”

“I'll bet—What friend?”

Nina smiled. “Craig. I met him at the school one day when I was picking the girls up.”

“Oh, I was thinking it was Titus.”

“‘Titus? Don't play with me.”

Paige couldn't help but laugh.

Titus was Quincy's best friend who had a crush on Nina for months. He was a nice-looking, hard-working gentleman who owned his own auto shop. There was only one problem—at five foot three, there was no way Nina would date him.

“I can't believe you would even go there with me, Paige.”

“What? There's nothing wrong with Titus. You know he's a good man.”

“That may be true, but he ain't a tall man, and Craig is!”

The door opened, and in rushed Myla, Jade, and Paige's mother.

“Hey, Mom!” Myla ran over and put her arms around Paige.

“Hey there, baby girl,” Paige greeted her daughter. “How was your day?”

“It was good.”

“I'm glad,” Paige told her. “Hey, Mama.”

“Good evening, ladies, and how are y'all doing?” Her mother hung her keys up and put her purse on the coffee table.

“We're good, Aunt Jackie,” Nina answered.

“Darling, can we go play in the backyard?” Myla asked, using the nickname she had given her grandmother, when she was a toddler.

“Go ahead, but stay in the back, you understand?”

“Yes ma'am.” Both girls ran out the back door.

“Myla told me you had words with Ms. Lucille again yesterday at Marlon's.” Her mother sighed.

“Yeah, I did. I had words with both her and Kasey.”

“Paige, why do you let them get to you?” Her mother shook her head. “You have moved on with your life, and so has Marlon. This going back and forth with Ms. Lucille is a waste of time.”

“Mama, you act like I wanna go back and forth with them. Can you believe they gave the girls a DNA test behind my back? You don't think I shoulda went over there and said anything?” Paige couldn't believe how her mother was acting. It was as if she thought Paige was in the wrong.

“No, I don't. Is Myla Marlon's daughter?”

“I know you're not asking me that.”

“Well then, let them give her ten DNA tests; I don't care how many tests they give. The fact that Marlon is her father will not change.”

“She does have a point, Paige.” Nina shrugged, looking at Paige.

“Thanks for the support, Nina. You said yourself you woulda beat them down.”

“I hope you didn't go over there putting your hands on nobody.” Paige's mother shot her a look.

“I defended myself, Mama, that's all. But I did tell them they have thirty days to get outta my house.”

“Now, I don't blame you for that . . . especially since your name is on the deed. You should kick them out.”

“No, she shouldn't. Didn't you tell me that his new wife is pregnant? And you aren't paying the mortgage, so it's not hurting you.”

Paige stared at her mother. She hated the fact that she was acting as if Paige was being the unreasonable one, when it was Kasey and Ms. Lucille that were disrespecting her.

“Mama, I can't talk to you about this. I can't believe you're making me out to be the bad person here.” Paige stood up to leave.

“I'm not making you out to be anything, Paige. I'm your mother and I'm trying to tell you what's right. I'm warning you—this thing is gonna turn ugly if you don't back off and leave it alone. For Myla's sake, if for no other reason.”

“Well, guess what Ma—it already got ugly.” Paige walked through the kitchen and opened the back door. “Myla, come on, let's go.”

“Awww, Ma,” Myla whined from the swingset, “just five more minutes.”

Paige could feel a headache about to come on. “No, Myla, now! I'm not calling you again!”

“Let her play a little while longer. I'll bring her home.” Nina walked up to Paige. “You need some alone time anyway.”

“Can you believe her? You'd think she was on their side.” Paige sighed.

“You know how your mom is, she just hates confrontation.”

“Whatever.” Paige shrugged. “At least I know where her loyalty lies in this whole situation.”

“Paige, come on now, her loyalty lies with you. It always has, and it always will. She just sees the situation differently, that's all. She's looking at it as Myla's grandmother.” Nina pointed over at the two girls playing. “She doesn't want anything to disrupt that little girl's childhood.”

“And I do?—That's why I'm trying to protect her from Ms. Lucille and Kasey—I've got a headache. I'll see you when you get to the house.”

“You're leaving?” Her mother walked back into the den. “I was about to cook.”

“Yeah, my head is hurting. Nina says she'll drop her off. See you later.” Paige opened the door and almost walked smack into her Aunt Gayle.

The two of them stared at each other, neither one saying a word. Moments passed and Paige's temple began to throb. “Excuse me,” she said and went to step out the doorway.

The sight of her aunt's car door opening caused her to stop in her tracks. Her cousin Celeste got out. The tension became even thicker.

Celeste couldn't even look Paige in the eye as she walked by. Her cousin had caused more trouble than a little bit and had reason to feel ashamed. For some reason, Celeste had been lying to her mother and the family about dating Quincy, when, in fact, she had been dating him. Things came to a head though, when Paige called her on her lies in front of their other cousin, Meeko.

Aunt Gayle still didn't have much to say to Paige, even though it was Celeste who lied and everyone knew it. It was as if her aunt held her personally responsible for Celeste's lackluster attitude and her lack of achievement in life, and she went out of her way to try and make Paige feel bad.

Paige thought,
I got too much other stuff to be bothered with this mess.

As soon as she got home, Paige called Quincy. She hadn't talked to him all day, with the exception of a brief conversation at lunch.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?”

The sound of his voice made her feel better instantly. “It was long. How was yours?”

“Better . . . now that I'm talking to you.”

“How is the other shop coming along?” Paige asked.

Quincy was in the process of opening a new barbershop, his fourth location. He was the most ambitious man she had ever known; it was one of the many characteristics she loved about him. After leaving Marlon and their seven-year relationship, she never imagined she could feel this way about any one.

“It's going good. I think being downtown in the business district is gonna be good. Businessmen can come in on their lunch breaks and right after work to get a cut.”

“It's also good because you're opening the door for more minority businesses in the district.”

“I'll also be close to my baby who works at the library downtown.”

“Oh, really.” She laughed. “I work down there. What's her name?”

“Paige Michaels. She's a real cute girl—short hair, nice shape.”

“Nice shape?” She giggled, all of a sudden getting turned on. “What's nice about it?”

“Her legs are thick, and her behind is perfect. And don't get me started on her breasts . . . umph . . .”

Paige blushed. She rolled over on her stomach and crossed her legs. She was getting hot and wanted him. “Wow, sounds like you are really feeling your girl.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“You should go over to her house and show her how you feel,” she suggested. She smiled, thankful that she'd left Myla at her mother's. She thought about the brand-new nightie she had recently purchased at Victoria's Secret she would be changing into before he got there.

“You're right, I should.” He laughed. “But I can't.”

“What?” Paige squealed, her smile instantly disappearing. “Why not?”

“I have a dinner meeting with my sister and her best friend. You know they are scheming about some business venture, and I promised to hear them out.”

“Oh, you did tell me you were having dinner with your sister,” she said, disappointed.

“Somebody sounds like they were a little bit pressed,” he teased.

“I don't think so—never that.”

“Knowing my sister, this meeting won't be that long. I love her to death, but she's about as focused as a four-year-old.”

“Don't say that. What if they had the same attitude about you when you said you wanted to start your business?”

“I was a little more levelheaded than Yaya is, believe that. But I will remember that while she's talking tonight.”

“And keep an open mind.”

“‘And keep an open mind,'” he repeated.

“You're the one who said you wished she would settle down a bit. Maybe this is her attempt to do that.” Paige got up and reached into her drawer, pulling out a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, rather than the lingerie she thought she would be taking out.

“Yeah, you're right. How about I come over after dinner?”

“I'll be here,” she told him. “And remember, open mind, positive attitude.”

“I love you,” he said.

“Love you too.”

Yaya sat nervously across the table from Taryn as they watched Quincy walk into Jasper's. It was their favorite restaurant, and even though it was a Monday night, it was still a nice number of people.

“Calm down, Yaya, it's just
Q
. Hell, you're making me nervous,” Taryn told her.

“What's up, ladies?” Her brother greeted them both with a kiss as he took his seat.

“Hey,
Q
.” Yaya smiled. “You look nice.”

“He always looks nice.” Taryn laughed as she took a swallow of her drink.

“Ahhh, flattery will get you two everything.” He laughed. “So, Yaya, you and Jason make up yet?”

“You just go straight for the jugular, huh,
Q
?” Yaya shook her head.

She'd tried calling Jason a few times, but he refused to take her calls. She figured he needed some time to cool off and would call her when he was ready to talk.

“And, no, we haven't made up.”

“You will. You two always do.” He smiled at her assuredly.

“That's what I told her,” Taryn added.

“So, ladies, have you ordered yet?”

“Just drinks,” Yaya told him. “We were waiting on you to order food.”

“Then let's get this thing started. A brother's stomach is on
E
.”

“All right, let's get down to business,” Taryn said after they ordered their food. She pulled out a shiny black folder with a drawing on the front and passed it to him.

He reached over and began flipping through it.

“Quincy, we know about the
Q
-Masters you're opening downtown, and we think that's a brilliant idea. It's a prime spot. Success at the location is inevitable. That being said, Qianna and I would like to follow in your footsteps and open a business of our own.”

“‘A business'? What kind of business?”

“A nail and aesthetic salon,” Taryn answered. “After Effex.”

“A nail shop.” Quincy looked at them.

“It's more than a nail shop,
Q
, it's a salon. We'll do brows and faces, and we'll also sell skin care products too.”

“Avon?”

“No, not Avon.” Yaya was getting angry. It had taken her almost a year to get the nerve to come to him with this idea, and now he wasn't taking her seriously.

“More high-end stuff,
Q
. Carol's Daughter,” Taryn told him. “We've researched it,
Q
, and we know this can work.”

“What about make-up?”

“We'll still do make-up. We just won't travel as much. We already have a client base built up from what we're doing now. Besides, we can also do faces in the shop.”

“That's why we're calling it a nail and aesthetic salon. Monya's a certified nail tech, and so is Taryn.”

“And what is your job?—You don't do nails.”

“I'll be part-owner of the shop, and in addition to doing faces, I'll handle the retail portion of the salon—office manager, per se.”

“Just look at the proposal,
Q
.”

“I'll look at it. And where is the money for this project gonna come from?”

The girls looked at each other. They knew he would ask that.

Yaya took a deep breath. “We have start-up capital, but we still need you to invest and back us up,
Q
.”

“Our goal is to have After Effex grow as large as
Q
-Masters.”

Quincy sat back and folded his arms, looking from one girl to the other as they spoke. They had a positive, well-thought-out response to every question he brought up. Their homework had been done, and just as they told him, they had done their research. Instead of a whining, begging dinner he thought he would be having, it was indeed a business meeting. And two and a half hours later, when they finished, he was thoroughly impressed.

“Excuse me for a minute.” Taryn stood. “I need to go the ladies room.”

“So, what do you think,
Q
?” Yaya asked after she left the table. She knew he was blown away.

“I see you've really studied this, and you may just have an idea here.” He flipped through the pages.

“Really? Oh,
Q
, you think so?” She gushed then tried to play it off. “I mean, I know it's a good idea.”

“But, Yaya, you're talking about running a business. Are you sure you're ready for this? It's a big responsibility. You know how you like to shop. You may not be able to live the lifestyle you've been living these past couple of years. You already know you won't be able to travel on shoots every week. Have you saved anything to live off of for the next few months to a year?”

“Yes,” she lied. She really hadn't thought about saving because she knew if she needed anything, she always had Jason. He was always her back-up plan whenever she ran short, which was often. For some reason, even though she made almost fifty grand a year, she still found herself in a bind ever so often. Quincy was right about one thing—her lifestyle would have to change.

“Quincy, all I'm asking for is a chance. Believe in me the same way Uncle Troy believed in you when you wanted to open your barbershop.”

“But, Yaya, I went to school and got a degree in business. I knew what I was getting into. I had been planning to open
Q
-Masters for years. It was my dream, and I prepared for it.”

“And After Effex is Taryn's and my dream,
Q
, we've prepared for it. Just because we didn't go to college and don't have degrees saying we went to class for four years, doesn't mean we want it any less than you did. Guess what,
Q
—you own four barbershops and you suck at cutting hair.”

“Hold up, hold up, hold up—”

“No, just listen. The fact that you can't cut hair has nothing to do with your success. You're a great businessman. You hired the best barbers and make mad money off them. All I'm saying is, this is the same concept. We have the best nail techs and make-up artists in the business, but we need you to help us make money for ourselves. We know it'll work,
Q
. And with you behind us, there's no way we can fail.”

Taryn returned. “Everything all right?”

Yaya sat back and waited for Quincy to respond.

“It's all good,” Quincy said.

“So, what's the verdict,
Q
?” Taryn asked.

They held their breath in anticipation.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Fine. You're right. You both deserve the same opportunity that Uncle Troy gave me. I think you two can do this, but it's gonna take two things.”

“I told you we have money,
Q
,” Yaya told him.

“I'm not talking about money, Yaya—it's gonna take hard work and commitment.”

“And we're willing to do both of those.” Taryn nodded.

“Then I say, yes, you two can open your shop—”

“Salon!” They both corrected him.

“Salon next to
Q
-Masters.” He smiled.

The girls began squealing and hugging each other.

Yaya was so happy, tears formed in her eyes.
I knew
Q
wouldn't let me down, I knew it. He has always had my back.

“On McNeil Street.”

They instantly got quiet, and their jaws dropped in disbelief.

Yaya frowned. “‘McNeil Street'?”

“That's where your old shop is,
Q
; we wanted to open up downtown next to the new shop.”

“I thought you wanted my help. I'm giving you a free building.”

“We do. I mean,
Q
, come on, McNeil Street?—That's the hood!” Yaya snapped.

“And that's my most successful shop.”

“We're talking about opening a high-class, sophisticated salon, Quincy. We need to be downtown. That's the clientele we're trying to attract. Not Bonquisha and Shantaniqua who want their baby daddy's name airbrushed on their nails.”

“Although I am the bomb at nail tricks, in case someone does want that done.” Taryn winked at him.

Quincy laughed, making Yaya even more irritated.

“That's not even funny, Taryn. Look,
Q
, we'll still have regular clients who are gonna come in to get their faces done. They aren't gonna wanna come to McNeil Street.”

“Then that's their issue, Yaya. You asked me for a chance, and I'm giving you one. Do you even know how much the rent is in the building downtown? Hell, I'm taking a chance myself by going down there. McNeil Street will give you ample space to do what you need to do.”

“I can't believe this. I need some air.” Yaya stood up and walked out the front of the restaurant.

Her vision of a classy salon was now distorted. Quincy wanted to stick her in the center of the old neighborhood where they grew up. The building had to be older than she was. Uncle Troy bought the building years ago and used to rent offices to small companies. It was his first investment, and once Quincy opened
Q
-Masters and made it a success, he gave it to him. It would take all their start-up capital just to renovate.

Her life seemed to be falling apart around her. First, Jason; now this. Nothing seemed to be going right.

“You okay, Yaya?”

She turned to see Taryn standing behind her. “I'm pissed, but I'm okay. I guess we'll have to wait on opening the salon, huh? Or we can always just open it somewhere else on our own, find our own location.”

“Girl, please . . . we're gonna do this the way we planned. Think about it, if we can make the salon work on McNeil Street, we can make it work anywhere.”

“He's just trying to be difficult, Taryn. He coulda let us open next to one of his nicer shops. He wants us to fail, that's all.”

“No, I don't think so. I think he wants us to work. He thinks maybe the salon will be good for the old neighborhood too. Maybe we can bring some class to the joint.” She nudged Yaya's arm. “Come on, we can do this. No time for looking down now, baby. We gotta look up. Lord knows, we're gonna need to do some serious praying if we're gonna be on McNeil Street.”

“McNeil Street.” Yaya looked at her best friend and couldn't help but laugh. Taryn was always an optimist.

“Ladies, I know you left me all alone so you wouldn't have to pay the check—which, by the way, I did.” Quincy walked up and put his arms around both of them.

“Well, being that you have four shops and we only have one, you should be treating us to dinner.” Yaya rolled her eyes at him.

“So I guess I'll meet you two at the shop in the morning so we can get started?” He smiled.

“Just let us know what time,” Taryn quipped.

“Is ten-thirty good?”

“We'll be there—right, Ya?”

“Yeah, we will.” Yaya sighed.

 

 

Taryn and Quincy were already at the shop when Yaya arrived the next morning. She fought off the urge to call Jason, even though she needed to talk to him now more than ever. He knew opening the salon was the most important decision she had made in her life and she needed her man in her corner. She needed his support.

Dammit, Jason, call me
. She stared at her phone as she sat in the parked car, hoping that some kind of way she could telepathically reach him.

Her phone began ringing. She became excited, until she saw Quincy's name and number on the caller ID.

“You're late. Why are you sitting there?” he asked.

“I'm getting out now,” she huffed at him, opening her door and stepping out of the car. She pulled her sunglasses over her face, which she made sure was perfectly made before she left the house. Even though she wasn't in the mood to get dressed and made up, she forced herself to, knowing if she didn't, she would hear Taryn's mouth all day. She straightened her cream linen pants and belted shirt and headed inside.

“Well, well, well, look who the wind blew in,” a familiar voice called when she stepped into the barbershop.

She cut her eyes and tried to ignore Jarrod, the manager. She and Jarrod had graduated from high school together. He was voted class clown and still wore the title proudly.

“What up, Ms. Thang?
Q
tells me we're about to be neighbors. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Whatever, Jarrod.” She brushed past him. “Hello, everyone else.”

“Hey, Yaya. What up, Yaya,” the other barbers greeted her.

She knew most of them, like she did Jarrod, from school. “Where's Quincy?”

“In the back”—Jarrod aimed the clippers he was using in the direction of the office—“making plans for your new salon with
T
, new neighbor.”

Yaya walked to the back, where she found Quincy and Taryn talking. Taryn was holding her leather-bound note-pad, and Quincy was measuring something with a tape measure.

“Good morning.”

“Hey there, girl. That pantsuit is fierce. I love it.” Taryn winked at her.

“Hey, Yaya, check this out.”

Quincy led them out the back door of the barbershop, into the back of the other side of the building, which was now being used as storage and would somehow become their salon. They showed her the layout he and Taryn had come up with so far. Despite it being dark and unappealing, it did have more than enough space for the salon.

“It's bigger than I thought,” she said.