Who's That Lady? Read online

  The three of them were left alone.

  “What are you girls doing tonight?” asked Key.

  Crystal was intensely aware of him across the room as she turned her back to rinse and stack dishes in the dishwasher.

  “I’m going to the gym for a little while,” said Shonté.

  Crystal whirled. “I’ll come with you.”

  Shonté stared at her. Although they belonged to the same club, Crystal wasn’t usually so eager to go along.

  “Well all right,” she said at last. “Is this all part of your grand makeover scheme?”

  “What makeover scheme?” asked Key.

  Crystal turned back to the sink. “There isn’t one. I’ll be finished in a minute, Shonté.”

  “Something’s up.” Shonté was oblivious to Crystal’s irritation. “New hair, new clothes, working out. You should have seen the looks she was getting today at work.”

  Crystal could have sworn Key’s eyes were boring holes into her back.

  “Oh, really?” he drawled at last.

  “Yeah, she got hit on a couple of times.”

  A long silence.

  “So how do you feel about that?” Key asked at last.

  Crystal peeked at him over her shoulder. “Shonté’s exaggerating,” she muttered.

  “I am not! You know it’s true. And you’ve changed since this weekend. I’m not too stupid to see what’s going on under my nose, you know.”

  “I didn’t say that,” she retorted.

  “I think she’s got a new guy,” Shonté chanted in a tattle-tale sing-song.

  “Who?” demanded Key, his eyebrows lowering.

  At the same time Crystal exclaimed, “I do not!”

  Shonté’s head bobbed up and down. “Because it all started Saturday night.”

  Crystal’s gaze slipped to Key, who relaxed at his sister’s words. His lips tilted in a smile that caressed Crystal’s body.

  “New guy, huh? He treat you right?”

  She glowered. “No.”

  “He treated you bad?” inquired Shonté.

  Crystal opened her mouth but nothing came out. She looked helplessly from one to the other as Shonté leaned on the counter and Key lounged in the doorway. Both watched her keenly. When a gleam of predatory animation peeked from beneath Key’s sleepy eyelids, Crystal shifted in an attempt to ease her flushed body. She drank in the sight of his muscle-corded arms folded across his chest and the dark unshaven shadow on jaw and chin. Her mouth watered.

  “No,” she said, then choked. “I mean, there isn’t any guy!”

  “What’d you do Saturday night?” prodded Shonté.

  “Yeah, Shortcake, what’d you do?” echoed Key, lips curved with mischief while his gaze licked her up and down.

  She made a strangling sound and stalked past them. “None of your damn business! Are we going to the gym or not, Shonté?”

  She heard brother and sister chortling together as she marched upstairs for her workout clothes.

  * * *

  Her cell phone rang that night as she got ready for bed.

  “I haven’t forgotten, Shortcake.” His voice smoldered with intimacy.

  Her heart flip-flopped. “Emerson, stop it. I told you I’m not interested.”

  “Meet me alone and tell me that.”

  She pressed a fist against her chest, suddenly needing more air. “Emerson, you know this won’t work.”

  “I know you’re avoiding me. I think it’s because you’re not so sure it won’t work.”

  She slid between the sheets of her bed, cradling the phone in the bend of her shoulder. “Emerson, I explained to you why it won’t work.”

  “You’re not attracted to me?”

  “It’s not that.”

  “You are?” His voice throbbed with pleasure.

  Her resolve tipped off-balance once more. “I never said you were unattractive, Emerson.”

  “It wasn’t good for you?”

  “Geez. Will you forget it? I was drunk and you were drunk.” With difficulty, she kept her voice low enough not to draw Shonté’s attention. The walls were paper thin.

  “So aren’t you at least curious about what it would be like when you’re sober?”

  “No,” she snapped. “Because that wasn’t me.”

  “Which you? The one before or after this makeover? Give me a clue, baby. Who’s that lady? My Shortcake or some femme fatale?”

  “Stop.” Her sour note was a dismissal.

  “I want to know more about this makeover,” he insisted.

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “You’re not fixing yourself up for some man?”

  “I’m doing it for myself, you egotistical ass!”

  He chuckled softly. “I didn’t say I was the man.”

  “Good night, Emerson,” she said in a firm voice.

  “Sweet dreams, Shortcake.”

  * * *

  When she started ninth grade at Key’s school, she had realized she was in a whole new world, one in which Key Emerson was a star. He was a hotshot running back on the football team. The guys looked up to him and the girls adored him. Even the teachers liked him. At the beginning of the school year, she was confident that being Key’s girl would smooth her path through the mean world of high school.

  But there were so many girls who made it plain they would like to replace her. Beautiful girls, bold girls, popular girls. They openly showed their amazement that an overweight, weird geek like Crystal was with a hunk like Keyandré Emerson. She became insecure and jealous. When she heard gossip about Key and some cheerleader while he was at a game, she went berserk and gave him the cold freeze when he met her at the school dance later. Key made a few attempts to start a conversation but when she remained chilly, he got up and circulated around the room, talking with his friends, laughing and eating. His apparent unconcern fueled her rage. Unable to stand it any longer, she stomped over to him and announced in a loud voice, “I’m ready to go.”

  His friends gave a few nervous snickers, eyeing Key. He sighed dramatically, slammed his plastic cup on the table and growled, “Let’s go.”

  Leaving her to trail behind him, he stalked across the room and out the door.

  Once they were in the car, she lashed out in accusation and verbal abuse. He tried to proclaim his innocence and she called him some ugly names.

  Key fired back at her. “I don’t need no jealous, nagging bitch holding me down.”

  “Holding you down?” she screeched. “I’m not good enough for you? Not hot enough? Is that it?”

  “Well, you sure aren’t my idea of a girlfriend.”

  Her blood turned to ice. He had said it. The words lay between them like a sore that had burst open.

  She turned her head to stare out the window before her stinging eyes spilled over with humiliating tears. “Then screw you, Key Emerson. I don’t need you!”

  “I don’t need this crap either.”

  “I hate you. You’re nothing but a block-headed, conceited, over-rated jock. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

  “Fine,” he said through tight lips.

  “Fine,” she retorted.

  He jammed the car to a stop in front of her house. She jerked her door open and all but tumbled out on the street. “You asshole,” she spat and slammed the door.

  With a screech of tires and roaring of the engine, Key left her standing on the side of the road.

  They hadn’t spoken for most of the remaining school year. Only Shonté’s intervention got them to be friends again. They both agreed they were never going to let romance interfere with their friendship.

  Crystal took a deep shaky breath. She had no desire to repeat that horrible freshman year of high school.

  She was no longer a silly teenager dazzled by the magnificent Keyandré Emerson. They were both adults now. Surely they could relate on a more mature level. Was it possible to have a love affair? Excitement shivered in her womb at the thought of kissing him, bein
g with him. Then again, what if it wasn’t that good when they were sober? What if he got tired of her and moved on in his usual pattern? The prospect left her unable to breathe, chilled with fear. Until now. Damn, why had she made love to Key?

  * * *

  Shonté popped into Crystal’s office at 4:45 the next day. “What are you doing after work?”

  “Nothing.”

  A huge grin spread across Shonté’s face. “Now you are. We’re going speed dating.”

  Crystal’s head started to spin as it often did in conversations with Shonté. “What are you talking about?”

  “Speed dating. There’s a social club having a speed dating meet downtown tonight. I got us in.”

  “But what—”

  “It will be a chance for you to meet some guys. It’s like a cocktail party with a checkout line.”

  “I’m not going to that!”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “Is it worse than meeting guys at clubs, wasting all night getting dressed, making small talk, then waiting for them to call? This way you can get, like, thirty first dates in one fell swoop and they’re prescreened for you. They have jobs and they’re looking for someone of the opposite sex.”

  “Well, that’s a plus. Do they fill out an application or something?” Sarcasm laced Crystal’s tone.

  “Exactly.”

  Her agreement startled her. “I have to fill out an application?”

  “I already filled one out for you.”

  “You! How did you answer for me?”

  “We’re like sisters, girl. I’ve known you half my life.”

  True enough. But that didn’t ease Crystal’s anxiety. Shonté’s perspective on details was entirely different from hers.

  “I’d feel weird. Like I’m desperate.”

  “Not desperate. It’s fun. You only have to try it out. You have so much time to make up for, Cee!”

  “Don’t I need to change?” She was dressed in black leather, a short jacket and straight-legged pants. Formerly she would never have worn black leather. But as usual, Shonté’s fashion sense was unerring.

  “It’s perfect,” said Shonté. “Everybody will be in work clothes.”

  Shonté had a reply for every argument she dredged up. In the end, Crystal let her friend push her through the revolving entry door of the hotel and then into the ballroom hired by the organizers. The muted buzz of a moderate-sized crowd swept them up into the activity. They registered at a reception table and picked up a name tag. Crystal felt like a job candidate. She peeked around the room. Other candidates, in various degrees of nervousness, milled around her. They came in all races, sizes, and types. Tables for two were set up all around the room. The women were to sit on one side and the men were to move down the rows at the signal of a bell.

  As they went toward the seats, Crystal was startled when she saw Shonté wore a name tag also.

  “Why are you doing this, Shonté? You have Graham already.”

  “I wanted to give you moral support. Maybe I’ll even meet some nice single guy who doesn’t bore me.”

  She and Shonté found their assigned seats at adjoining tables. Shonté patted her shoulder before leaving her alone. “Just do it. Don’t think about it,” she murmured.

  Just do it. Crystal tried to turn off her thinking process as a man settled into the chair opposite her. That wasn’t difficult to do as she was drawing a complete blank.

  “Hi. I’m Michael.”

  Michael was a decent-looking man except for an especially gruesome lip piercing. A spiny rod stuck out of a puffy red scar on his lower lip. She fought the urge to rub her mouth.

  She flipped to his page in her portfolio. Computer technician; never married; “Open for adventure.” What had Shonté put in her profile? “Big, boring and bossy?”

  After an uncomfortable silence, Michael continued. “I see you’re a training manager at a hospital. Does that mean you get along well with people?”

  “Sure. I’m really easy to get along with once people learn to worship me,” she quipped.

  He looked startled, then laughed nervously. “Oh, yeah, well…”

  She clenched her jaw shut, but it was too late. The poor man was looking around as if for her keeper. The conversation lagged after that. Michael sprang to his feet when the bell went off.

  She was more cautious with the next man, but the conversation was a struggle again. Their five minute interval dragged on torturously. Everyone had been given a tablet to keep notes on the people they wanted to get together with later. This second candidate wrote furiously. She watched his hand flying across the page. When he caught her peering, he gave her a weak smile and shielded his writing with his other hand.

  Crystal glanced about surreptitiously to see if anyone else was having as much difficulty. The woman on her left leaned forward and her pen slashed checkmarks down the page as she fired off question after question. On her other side, Shonté laughed and flirted. Crystal suppressed an inner sigh of envy. Shonté was tiny and dainty with pouty lips and a button of a nose, and straight hair hanging below her shoulders. She wore spike-heeled boots with faded jeans that showed off her figure.

  She’d love to be as comfortable as Shonté in social situations.

  Soon she was bored rather than uncomfortable. She had said the same thing, laughed at the same lame jokes, smiled the same phony smile, and said a dutiful thank you each time the bell went off. After the sixth man, she began to jot notes for an article on the sociological aspects of speed dating. What fueled the fad? What kind of people took advantage of it? Society’s attitude toward the practice. Results? She was soon absorbed and barely acknowledging her partners.

  At last the session ended. She leaned back with a sigh of relief.

  But to her dismay the organizers had arranged a gathering afterward for people who got more than five positive hits. Shonté got a ticket to stay. Crystal didn’t. She practically dragged Shonté from the room.

  “So did you meet anybody?” Shonté asked eagerly.

  “You met the same men. What do you think?”

  “Okay, okay, there are an awful lot of jerks out here in single life.”

  “And I met all of them tonight,” Crystal grumbled.

  Shonté sighed in exasperation. “You’re too picky, Cee. You don’t need Mr. Right. You need Mr. Right Now and Fine.” She did a little spin to keep a man they’d just passed in view. He was doing the same thing. They exchanged sizzling once-overs that should have left blisters. Shonté laughed exuberantly as she continued by Crystal’s side.

  “Girl, behave,” Crystal said without much hope. “You know that isn’t me. I want a caring relationship based on respect and trust.”

  “What about passion?”

  “Well, that comes later.”

  “You hope,” murmured Shonté.

  Or it came in a one-night stand.

  “I’d like passion,” Crystal said slowly. “But what if it’s with someone who’s not appropriate?”

  Laughter lit up Shonté’s expression. “Appropriate? Girl, I don’t think appropriate and passion come in the same package.”

  Thoughts of Key filled her mind. Key wasn’t exactly inappropriate but the passion was there for sure. Still, being so close all these years made it all too complicated.

  “You mean I’m doomed to these losers?”

  “Welcome to my world.”

  Crystal gave her a startled look. “You? Go out with losers? You can have your pick of men, Shonté.”

  “Not the right ones.” Shonté shrugged. “Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me ever since Trevor came into my life?”

  “What about Graham?”

  “Graham,” she scoffed. “Graham is more your type than mine.”

  “Yes, I’d like a sweet man like him that I can trust and respect. Isn’t that what you want, Shonté?”

  Shonté gave her a twisted smile of exasperation. “I want not to be bored,” she said. Be
fore Crystal could ask for clarification, she glanced at her watch with an exclamation.

  “Oh, let’s hurry. Key said he’s cooking shrimp and chicken soup today and invited us.”

  Crystal stopped in her tracks.

  “I don’t want to go to Key’s.”

  Shonté turned a disbelieving stare toward Crystal. “Why on earth wouldn’t you? It’s Key’s famous shrimp and chicken soup!”

  “I’ve got stuff to do,” Crystal blurted, shifting from foot to foot. “I have to wash my hair and do laundry and get ready for work tomorrow—”

  Shonté blew an exasperated breath. “For Pete’s sake, Crystal, it’ll only take a few minutes.”

  “Do I have to go with you?” Her mind hammered in panic. Seeing Key again so soon, when she still wasn’t sure she could hold out against her desire…Impossible!

  “I’m not driving you all the way home only to come back downtown.”

  Crystal’s head was starting to hurt and she couldn’t think of any more excuses that wouldn’t arouse Shonté’s suspicions.

  She slid into the passenger seat. Apparently, she was stuck.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Have you two been fighting?” Shonté asked suspiciously as she pointed the car in the direction of Key’s apartment.

  “No,” Crystal mumbled. “I’m just tired.”

  When they got to the apartment, Crystal felt trapped as she plodded behind Shonté into the breezeway that led to Key’s first floor apartment. Every step felt as if it led to her doom. Shonté rang the doorbell and it swung open just as she arrived behind her.

  “Hey, princess,” Key greeted her, then caught sight of Crystal lingering behind Shonté. He went very still for an instant, his expression blank. Crystal’s mouth went dry.

  “Hey,” he added in a soft tone. He wet his lower lip with his tongue, then turned away. “Come on in, you guys,” he added casually.

  “Um, smells good.” Shonté inhaled appreciatively.

  Crystal let out her breath in a long silent emission as she eased inside and shut the door. She thought she’d prepared herself, but still she had been ambushed by a shot of lust when she saw him. When would that stop happening?

  Key strode back to the kitchen, which was off to one side of the living/dining room. His fashionable, casual clothes suited his big muscular body. Today he wore tricot sweat-style pants with zip pockets and a matching jacket. His shoes were smooth white leather with a hidden zipper that ran diagonally across the instep. Almost dress shoes. She couldn’t help noticing the tightness of his rear end as he moved across the room.