Other People's Business. Pamela YayeЧитать онлайн книгу.
you think I overreacted?” she asked after telling Yvette an abbreviated version of what had happened that afternoon. “You know better than anyone that I have a tendency to blow things out of proportion. I jump to conclusions, tell people off then discover I didn’t have all the facts. Give it to me straight, Yvette. Am I wrong?”
“Hell, no!” Yvette paused to regain control before continuing. “Tyrell left you high and didn’t even have the decency to call and make sure you got home safely. You have every right to be furious! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Tyrell Wellman’s a self-absorbed momma’s boy who doesn’t deserve a woman as devoted and loving as you are. Why do you keep putting up with his mess? For the last time, cut that brother loose.”
Autumn twirled the glass in her hand as she weighed Yvette’s advice.
“Tyrell thinks he’s the salt of the earth just because his parents have money and he has a few fancy sports cars. Big deal! There’s a lot more to making a woman happy than just buying her nice things. He constantly disrespects you and your relationship. Don’t you see that, Autumn? Do you need me to remind you of all the messed-up things he’s done since you started dating? Where should I begin?” Yvette tilted her head to the right, as if deep in thought, then stuck out her right thumb. “First of all, the man lies through his teeth. Remember when he told you he couldn’t come to your birthday dinner because he had the flu, and then we ran into him later that night at the club? What about when he stood you up at the theater? He arrived an hour late to your parents’ anniversary party and didn’t even apologize. What about when he…”
Like darkness giving way to light, the truth of her injurious relationship with Tyrell became clear to Autumn. As Yvette rattled off a list of his most recent infractions, she reflected on that afternoon. On the drive over to the Grisbey estate Autumn had wrestled with her conscience. I lost control again. It’s not his fault he’s sick. Maybe I need to be more understanding. Maybe I should quit nagging him. Maybe I need to loosen up. Just because I revile the party scene, doesn’t mean I have the right to make him feel guilty every time he hangs out with his friends, right?
Autumn had struggled for answers. But after a few seconds with Yvette, everything became clear.
“You’re right, Yvette. That’s just what I needed to hear.”
Yvette’s nose wrinkled as though she had just gotten a whiff of some old garbage. “Enlighten me, Autumn, because I’ve been trying to figure out what the attraction is. What keeps you hanging on? Tyrell mooches off his parents instead of standing on his own two feet, he’s deathly afraid of commitment and he has roving eyes. Your devotion to him can’t be attributed to something as heady as mind-blowing sex, because y’all ain’t having any. So what is it?”
Autumn elbowed Yvette sharply in the ribs. “Don’t go there, Yvette.”
“What?” Yvette shrugged, an innocent smile playing on her lips. Reading the terse expression on Autumn’s face, she wiped it away. “Fine, but I’m just trying to make sense of this mess you’ve gotten yourself into.” After a pause, she asked Autumn a tough question. “Are you in love with Tyrell?”
Autumn felt as though a spotlight was shining on her. It was as if a microphone had been thrust in her face and the whole world was listening in. She had never had weak-in-the-knees feelings for Tyrell, but he was a decent guy and kind of cute. “I guess so.”
“Autumn, either you’re in love with him or you’re not. From what I’ve seen, I’d venture to say it’s the latter. And I bet Tyrell would say the same thing. He hasn’t exactly been discreet about his other women and the word around town is he’ll sleep with anyone with big boobs.”
Autumn avoided the hazel eyes staring back at her. She didn’t want to hear any more gossip about Tyrell. She had heard it all before. And although his once flawless character had revealed pothole cracks, it was still hard for her to believe that he would cheat on her.
Autumn sipped her drink, trying not to think about what she had had planned for later on that evening. Tyrell was such an accomplished smooth-talker that she had actually believed him when he’d said the problems in their relationship were a direct result of their nonexistent sex life. He had made her feel guilty for not “taking care” of his needs and assured her that sex would bring them closer together. Autumn shook her head slowly. She had been up-front about her values from day one, and Tyrell had led her to believe he could handle it. What a joke.
“I’m not interested in a physical relationship,” Autumn had confessed, adopting an assertive tone of voice. She had sounded less like herself and more like her pastor’s wife, Regina Carrington-Nelson. The bubbly, thirtysomething clinical psychologist had invited Autumn to a session for single women and, initially, she had spurned the invitation. She had better things to do with her free time than sit around with a bunch of single women bashing men. But when Regina had popped up on her doorstep one Wednesday evening and ordered her out the door, Autumn had had no choice but to comply.
Autumn had learned more in the two-hour session than from all the self-help books she had ever read. And after attending a month of sessions, she had made the life-altering decision to become a “born-again” virgin. It had been three years since that fateful night and Autumn had never once regretted her decision. Most men balked when she told them about her pledge, but not Tyrell. She still remembered his reaction after she had told him….
“I find it hard to believe that a woman of your beauty isn’t getting any,” he admitted, tossing back his beer. He finished the bottle, and then rolled his tongue over his lips. He examined the dewy-eyed woman sitting across from him, undressing her in his mind. Sure she looked sweet and wholesome, but her curvy figure and sexy smile told another story. Celibate? Impossible. Sexually frustrated? Definitely. All Autumn needed was a man to show her the ropes. Teach her how sex was supposed to be. Tyrell was more than willing to add another student to his class. But first, there was something he needed to know. “You’re not one of those church girls who thinks sex is revolting or immoral, are you?”
“Of course not!” Autumn answered, the heat rising steadily up the back of her neck. She usually saved this conversation for the third or fourth date, but when Tyrell had suggested they go back to his place to “get to know each other better,” Autumn had determined that was as good a time as any. “I’m not scared of sex and I’m not ashamed of my body. I’m just not ready for the emotional baggage that sex creates, so I have committed to put my future happiness and emotional well-being ahead of the fleeting needs of my body. The next man I make love to will be my husband, and if you can’t respect that, I need to know now.”
Tyrell didn’t even blink. “Believe you me, I can handle it.” His probing eyes held hers and in a sickly sweet voice he gushed, “I’m interested in getting to know the real you, Autumn. That’s it. Sleeping with you is the furthest thing from my mind.”
But in the last three months, it had been the only thing on his mind. In recent weeks, Tyrell had become more agitated about her unwillingness to “put out.” He’d found ways to work sex into every conversation they had and had even gone as far as sending Autumn long, pitiful e-mails on the subject. After weeks of his incessant badgering and “Baby, baby, please,” she’d caved in. Tonight was supposed to be the night. Autumn had sauvignon blanc chilling on ice, Teddy Pendergrass waiting to lend his voice to the occasion and white rose petals sprawled across her candle-laden bedroom.
Autumn sighed deeply. Tyrell had turned out to be just like all the other guys. He was caught up in the game. The pursuit. The challenge. He was spirited and competitive, and luring her into his bed was just another one of his conquests. Tyrell thought that once he finagled his way into her heart, she would be putty in his hands. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Autumn polished off her cocktail. When a lanky, wide-faced server offered her another glass, she politely declined. “Tyrell always had an answer. He—” Autumn searched for the right words. When none came, she paused a moment longer. “I believed Tyrell when he told me I was the only woman in his life. He took me to nice places, treated me like a lady and he is from the wealthiest African-American family in D.C.