Other People's Business. Pamela YayeЧитать онлайн книгу.
raise Cain when she learned her daughter wasn’t going to be the next Mrs. Wellman. Autumn could only hope that Evelyn would respect the decision she had made.
When the soothing sounds of Motown were replaced with a thunderous hip-hop beat, Autumn left the sanctuary of L.J.’s arms. He placed a hand on the small of her back, and then steered her over to the dessert table. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked, his breath brushing against her ear like a kiss.
Warmed by his heat, she said, “Something cold would be nice.”
“Soda all right?”
“Yes, thanks.”
While they drank, they watched a group of teenagers flaunt the latest dance moves. They moved with the fluency and ease of trained dancers and reminded Autumn just how out of touch she was with the younger generation. She was still in her twenties, but seeing what was “in,” made her feel like she was one birthday cake away from ninety.
“Would you like to go outside?” L.J. asked, realizing it was going to be impossible for them to talk over the ear-shattering music. “A stroll outside will do us some good.” L.J. had been sharing her all night, and was eager to have her to himself. When she hesitated, he added, “I promise not to bite. That is, unless you want me to.”
Autumn laughed off his remark. He’s joking, right? “All right, I’ll come but don’t try anything funny.”
Now, it was L.J.’s turn to laugh.
She curved her fingers around the arm he offered. The chilly evening breeze nipped at Autumn’s bare shoulders as they emerged from behind the tent walls. Her teeth chattered as she rubbed her hands over her chilled arms.
“If you need an extra set of hands, mine are free,” L.J. said, holding them up for her to see.
Autumn laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.” She untied the knitted shawl from around her waist, slung it around her shoulders and stepped back into line with him.
White, cylinder-shape lanterns hung from the tent to the patio and miniature glass bowls with floating candles surrounded the swimming pool. A handful of other couples were roaming around, taking pleasure in the spectacular sunset. The sky was blanketed in a dashing orange hue with streaks of magenta in the backdrop.
“What part of Mississippi are you from?” Autumn asked as they rounded the corner and made their way deeper into the backyard.
“Vicksburg. Also known as the Red Carpet City of the South. But aside from some restored historic museums and centennial homes, the city doesn’t have much to offer. After graduating from Mississippi State University back in ’95, I decided to try my luck in Atlanta, and I’ve been there ever since.”
“And how is the ATL treating you?”
Autumn surveyed L.J. with critical eyes, wondering if everything Melissa had told her about him was true. How could a man with his looks and remarkable personal success still be single at thirty-five? Over the course of dinner, she had discovered that Larry Jeremiah Saunders was every bit as delightful as he appeared to be. He had impressed her with his knowledge of world history, his diverse tastes in literature and music, and his witty sense of humor. When he spoke, he instantly commanded the attention and respect of people around him. He was just that fascinating. Were the women in Atlanta blind? Or is he hiding something? Maybe he has a fetish for wearing women’s underwear. Or maybe he’s bisexual. Autumn studied L.J. He didn’t look bisexual, but what exactly did a bisexual man look like? She stared at him some more. A woman could never be too sure in the new millennium. These days, brothers were skipping out of the closet left, right and center. And the ones who weren’t courageous enough to step out were simply fulfilling their desires on the sly.
“I love everything about the South,” L.J. was saying when Autumn returned to the present. He sat down on one of the striped pool chaises, patted the spot next to him, and when she took the seat, he continued speaking. “Southerners are unbelievably friendly people and Atlanta is one of the few big American cities where black people still smile and nod when passing. It’s the number-one city for African-Americans, and there are a plethora of reasons why. Atlanta is an equal-opportunity city and more welcoming to Blacks than other large cities. We’re a highly educated people starting our own businesses, running Fortune 500 companies and paving the way for the next generation to come into their own. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. I guess deep down, I’m just a good ol’ Southern boy at heart.” A pause, and then, “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Where did that come from? Autumn tried to hide her amusement. She looked over at L.J., surprised to see heat radiating from his eyes and his mouth curled into a delicious smile. She had no doubts about his sexuality now. The man was as straight as a ladder. Before she could tease him for getting all up in her business, she heard the slumberous voice of Tyrell say, “Yes. She does.”
Autumn’s head spun around so fast, she just knew she’d wake up tomorrow morning with a sore neck.
Tyrell’s eyes darted between his girlfriend and the man with the boulder-size shoulders. “I’ve been looking all over for you, babe.” He pointed towards the tent. “What are you doing out here when there’s a party going on in there?”
L.J. could tell by the frosty expression on Autumn’s face that she wasn’t happy to see the wiry man towering over them. Standing, which displayed his height advantage over the resentful-looking brother, L.J. extended his right hand, saying, “I’m Peter’s best friend, L.J.”
Tyrell buried his hands in his camel-colored slacks. He was obviously annoyed with the situation and seemed bent on creating a scene.
Autumn stood. Folding her hands neatly in front of her, she took a deep breath and locked eyes with Tyrell. He had some nerve showing up at the party after leaving her to roast in the sweltering afternoon heat. She had every right to give him a whip of her tongue, but she restrained from telling him to get out of her face. Tyrell lived for drama the way strippers lived for dollar bills, and if she wasn’t careful, things could get real ugly real fast.
Tyrell was champing on his gum as though it was his first meal of the day, and the sound grated on Autumn’s nerves in the process. “What do you want, Tyrell?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded. “I came to see you.”
“Oh, really?” Autumn didn’t have to pretend surprise. She was astonished. “I thought you were in bed with a hangover. Isn’t that why you couldn’t come help me this afternoon?”
Tyrell’s face twisted in rage. He should have known this was coming. Autumn had to make everything he did or didn’t do a federal case. “Please excuse us.” He clutched her arm, and dragged her down the driveway. “Quit trying to embarrass me,” he ordered. “This is not the time or the place for one of your bitch sessions, Autumn.”
L.J. watched from a distance, trying to cool the anger boiling inside him. He had no business interfering, but he didn’t like the way this Tyrell character was manhandling Autumn. If her ex didn’t release his grip on her soon, he was going to make it his business. But when Peter emerged from the aperture of the tent and waved him over, L.J. had no choice but to leave the bickering lovebirds alone and return inside.
“Get your hands off of me!” Autumn snarled, struggling to free herself. But it was a losing battle. It was as if her arm was caught in a vise and no matter how hard she tugged or pulled, she couldn’t break free.
“I will once you calm the heck down.” Tyrell couldn’t believe her. Not only was she wearing a funky attitude but she was carrying on like a child. He had stumbled out of bed, thrown on some clean clothes and driven all the way to the Grisbey estate to see her. And what did he find? Her drooling all over some bodybuilder. “Why the hell are you airing our business in the street? And what’s going on with you and what’s-his-face?”
Tyrell loosened his grip, but didn’t let go of her arm. “So, you’ve been messing around on me? You’ve been fooling around with that dumbbell?” He was puffing