Too Close for Comfort (9 page)

Yaya answered the ringing telephone. “Thanks for calling After Effex, where before and after are never the same.”

She was wearing herself thin, and it was taking its toll on her. They had been open for almost two weeks and had more business than they could handle. All three of them were working twelve-hour days, and she was exhausted.

She blinked several times and tried to focus on what the woman on the other end was saying.

“Monya has a 3:30 slot available next Wednesday, is that okay? Okay, Tam, I'll put you down, and thanks for calling.”

As soon as she hung the phone up, it began ringing again.

“We need to hire a secretary,” Taryn said as she put the final touches on a pedicure she was doing.

“I know. I was trying to hold out until next month.” Yaya sighed.

“That's not gonna work, Yaya. You have to do faces for the hair book shoot next week. Who's gonna answer the phones?”

“I almost forgot about that. I need to write it in the book, huh?” Yaya flipped the page.

“Yaya, you didn't right it down? You gotta get better, girl.”

Yaya stretched her neck. She didn't feel well and wanted to go home and get in her bed. “I will, I promise.”

The door opened, and in walked two heavyset women.

“Hello, we have a one-thirty nail appointment,” the first one said. She was brown-skinned with glasses, plainly dressed in sneakers, sweats, and an oversized T-shirt. The second woman was looking around as if she had never been in a nail salon before. She was caramel-colored with light eyes and had the biggest lips Yaya had ever seen.

They were exactly the clientele Yaya did
not
want to attract.
Here come the hoodrats
. She glanced up to see Taryn giving her a warning look.

Yaya quickly told them, “Have a seat. Someone will be with you in a few moments.”

“Thanks.”

The dark woman smiled, and they took a seat in the waiting area.

“This is a really nice place. As soon as I heard this was Quincy's sister's place, I had to come.”

“You know Quincy? I'm his sister.”

“Oh, you must be Qianna. I've heard so much about you.”

“What's your name?” Yaya asked her.

“Oh, I'm Celeste,” she said, in a way that made Yaya think she thought it should mean something, which it didn't.

“Nice to meet you. Taryn will take care of you as soon as she's finished over there, and Monya, our other nail technician, will be right in. She just stepped out to grab some lunch.”

“You don't do nails?” Celeste seemed disappointed.

“No, make-up is my specialty.”

“All right now. I may need to get in your chair before I leave.” The second woman grinned, showing Yaya her big teeth.

I ain't a miracle worker
. “I can hook you up.”

Monya waltzed in carrying a large bag of food. “Lunch has arrived.”

“Don't start eating,” Yaya told her; “you have a client.”

“I do? I didn't see anything on the books.”

“We called last week,” Celeste said.

Yaya looked back at the book. “Ooops, I put you down for tomorrow, my bad!”

“Yaya!” Taryn and Monya said at the same time.

“Okay, I got it.”

“Yaya can take care of your next appointment for you, I think,” Taryn told her client as she left.

A few moments later she announced, “You ladies can come on over.”

The two women walked over to the pedicure area and sat in the large princess chairs.

“So how do you know Quincy?” Taryn asked as she began filling the foot tubs with warm water.

“Oh, we went out a couple of times.” Celeste grinned. “That's my boo.”

Yeah, right. I don't think so. You look like Al Roker's sister
. Yaya prayed she wouldn't laugh out loud.

“Really?” Taryn said. “I heard that.”

“Yeah, I love me some
Q
,” Celeste said. “He's a good man. And we all know a good man is hard to find.”

“Too bad he's taken now.” Monya took a seat in front of Celeste's friend. “How'd you let that happen?”

“He ain't taken.” Celeste laughed.

“I'm sorry, Celeste, but he is. I met his girlfriend the other day.” Yaya nodded. She didn't want the woman getting her hopes up thinking that she even had a chance with her brother.

“Who? Paige? Please . . . She's about to be old news. Quincy won't be with her long.” Celeste sat up.

“Hold please.” Yaya put the customer on hold, interested in what Celeste had to say. “Why not?”

“She's a skank, that's why. And Quincy's gonna find out about it,” Celeste told her.

“We must not be talking about the same girl. This girl is kinda short, curvy, short hair, gorgeous,” Yaya said. “She's classy. Had a pretty little girl with her.”

“I wouldn't say she was gorgeous, but she is short and dumpy,” the other woman told her. “The little girl is her brat, Myla.”

“Sounds like someone is hating,” Taryn teased. “Paige seemed really nice when she came in. She's also been sending business our way. Her best friend and her sister-in-law have come in.”

“‘Sister-in-law'? Paige has never been married, and she is an only child.” Celeste guffawed.

“No, I'm sure this girl is her sister-in-law. She even introduced her as her sister. What's her name, Monya—the smart, pretty girl who told us about the new summer line coming out from Carol's Daughter?”

“Oh, Camille. She was crazy.” Monya laughed. “Yeah, she did say she was Paige's sister-in-law.”

“Camille isn't Paige's sister-in-law.” Celeste frowned. “She's Myla's aunt. That's Paige's baby daddy's sister who lives with them.”

Yaya's eyes widened. She looked to Taryn and Monya who, oddly enough, were engrossed in the pedicures.

“I'm telling you, Paige is no good, and your brother deserves better. I keep trying to tell him, but she got him so wide-open that he can't even hear me. I may joke around about him being my boo and all, but he's my friend and I don't wanna see him used or hurt.”

“I know that's right.” Her friend nodded. “Paige got a lot of shit with her. Your brother needs to watch out.”

The phone began ringing again, and Yaya began taking calls again. She tried to concentrate but found herself straining to hear what Celeste was saying as she talked to Monya and Taryn.

“Thank you so much,” Celeste said when they had finished. “I can't wait to come back again.”

“I'm glad you liked it,” Yaya said as she hung the phone up for the hundredth time since they had arrived.

“I'm not trying to be messy, but I meant what I said—I care about your brother, and he deserves better.” Celeste paid Yaya. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Yaya gave her back some change. “I'll keep that in mind.”

“I heard you said you need a receptionist. I'm looking for a second job myself because I really need the money. I can bring a lot to your salon and help you out a lot.” Celeste looked at Yaya intensely.

Yaya read between the lines and smiled. “When can you start?”

“Yaya, I don't know about this. I don't think hiring that girl was a smart idea,” Taryn said.

“You're the one that was stressing about a receptionist. What's the big deal?—She said she can start tomorrow.”

“I don't like her,” Monya said. “And how could you just hire her without even talking to us?”

Yaya began rubbing her temples. They were making her head hurt. And what made Monya think she had the right to question who she hired anyway? She was an employee, not the employer.

“What was I supposed to say? She was standing right there asking for the job?” Yaya snapped.

“How about, ‘Let me get back with you,' or ‘I'll give you a call'?” Taryn answered.

“My head is hurting.” Yaya lay her head on the desk.

“Join the club.” Monya walked over to the bag she laid down earlier and took out a Styrofoam plate. “Dang, I didn't even have time to eat today.”

“What is that?” Taryn asked.

“Stewed chicken, peas and rice, and some macaroni and cheese. Your head is probably hurting because you're hungry—You want some? I'm 'bout to heat it up and throw down.”

“I do. Put me some on a plate.”

“No, thanks,” Yaya answered.

“Suit yourself.” Taryn walked into the back.

“A'ight, Yaya, what's going on with you? I know you're tired, but I also know something else is wrong.” Taryn walked over and leaned on the desk where Yaya's head was still buried. “You're not pregnant, are you?”

“What? Since when is a headache a pregnancy symptom?” Yaya sat up and gave her a mean look. “You know I ain't pregnant, fool. Hell, that would require sex.”

“You're not pregnant, are you?” Taryn asked again, her eyes wide.

“No, Taryn, I'm not pregnant.”

“I know you haven't said anything, but are you and Jason still working things out?”

“Yeah, we're good,” she lied.

Yaya didn't want to admit to her friends that she and Jason were no closer than the day he decided to take a break. Lying about their relationship was easier than defending the fact that she still loved him.

“He just wants to take things a little slow, you know, give each other a little space. We both have a lot going on right now.”

“That's a good thing, Yaya. You've been with Jason for three years, while he's made his moves and climbed the corporate ladder. Now it's time to do you. Take advantage of this time and enjoy your life for a change.”

“I've always done me,” Yaya said.

“No, you did what Jason allowed you to do,” Taryn told her. “How many times did you have to cut out early on a job because you had to meet Jason to have dinner with one of his clients? Or the times you turned down jobs because Jason said you were traveling too much. I don't even want to mention the parties you missed out on because Jason didn't want to come with you. You think we don't know why you didn't show up at State Street the night of the grand opening? We know you were with Jason.”

She was busted. When she arrived home opening night, Jason was waiting for her, glass of wine in hand, ready to sex her the way she had been craving. As soon as he finished, he was gone.

Yaya sat silently listening to Taryn. Most of what her best friend was saying was true. She had compromised a lot for her relationship with Jason, but she had gained a lot too. That's what love's about—give and take.

Taryn was right about her failure to appear at State Street. She was with Jason; but she refused to admit it.

Monya walked in and passed Taryn her plate.

The enticing aroma caused Yaya's stomach to growl. She looked at her friends stirring their food. Unable to resist any longer, she told Monya, “Let me taste that.”

“I asked you, ‘Did you want some'?” Monya passed her a forkful of chicken and rice.

Yaya tasted the food. “Wow! This is the bomb. Where did you get it from?”

“Someplace Jarrod told me about called Ochie's,” Monya said, taking her fork back.

“In the Bottoms?” Yaya gasped, thinking about the worst, most crime-ridden part of the city she'd never dare go.

“Yeah.” Monya laughed.

“You went to the Bottoms? By yourself? Are you crazy?” Yaya's jaw dropped.

“Yaya, please . . . there's nothing wrong with the Bottoms.” Taryn shook her head. “Stop trippin'.”

“I ain't trippin'.” Yaya reached for Monya's fork again. “I just can't believe you went by yourself.”

“I asked you, ‘Did you want some'?” Monya passed her the plate.

There was a loud rumbling outside the shop, and they all looked out the window. Yaya instantly recognized the large purple-and-white bike that was pulling in front.

“Who let the dogs out?” Taryn shouted as the door opened and Quincy walked in.

He removed his helmet and placed it on the sofa.

“Excuse me, the sign says no loitering,” Yaya announced. “This establishment is for paying customers only. If you're trying to loiter for free, you need to go next door to
Q
-Masters.”

“How about this building is for paying tenants only.” Quincy raised his eyebrows at her.

“What's up, Quincy? Come on in. Have a seat. Take a load off.” She smiled at him.

“I thought you would change your song.” He walked over and hugged her. “How's business?”

“Almost more than we can handle,” Taryn told him. “I love it.”

“Jarrod told me it stays packed in here.” Quincy looked around. “Since it's like that, maybe I should charge—”

Yaya stopped him. “Don't even try it.”

“I'm glad things are going well for you.” Quincy looked at the plate in front of her. “That looks good. Where did you get it?”

“Ochie's,” she told him.

“Ochie's?” Quincy looked shocked. “You went to Ochie's?”

“No, Monya went.” She rolled her eyes. “And what if I said I did?”

“You'd be lying,” he told her. “So have you hired a secretary yet? I know someone looking for a job.”

“Who?” Taryn spoke up.

“Paige's sister-in-law, Camille, you met her. She came in last week with Paige's best friend, Nina,” he said.