Other People's Business. Pamela Yaye

we’ll sit.”

      He had been singing the same tune for the last fifteen minutes. “Sorry, Omar, but I’m all danced out.” She untied his arms from around her waist and shouldered her way through the throng of gyrating dancers.

      “Okay. But when you get your second wind, I’m first in line!” Omar called after her. But the music was so loud and the crowd so thick, Autumn could barely hear him.

      Autumn was midway across the floor when she spotted Yvette, Shante and L.J. at “her” table. She thought of finding somewhere else to sit, but remembered her purse and shawl were on her chair.

      She noticed L.J. eyeing her, and straightened her shoulders. Disregarding the stabbing pain shooting up her calves, she lifted her head high and put more hip into her walk. By the time she reached the table, L.J. was back in conversation with Shante, and her feet were screaming to be set free.

      “Hey, girl.” Yvette swatted Autumn’s thighs playfully, then slapped a brand-new dollar bill into her palm. “Hot stuff! You looked real good out there, shaking your little money-maker for all it’s worth.”

      Autumn burst out laughing. She was so loud, Shante and L.J. glanced over at her. Autumn ignored them, but quieted down. “I may have looked good, but my feet were bawling for relief,” she confessed, taking the vacant chair to Yvette’s right. Autumn slipped off her sandals, bent down and inconspicuously massaged her aching soles. The first thing she was going to do when she got home was bury the killer sandals in the back of her closet.

      Three songs later, Omar shuffled over to their table and plunked down next to L.J. “Anyone interested in going to the Calypso Café? The party’ll be winding down soon, but the night’s still young, y’all!”

      Yvette nodded. “Count me in. I’m in no rush to go home. Randall’s sprawled out on the couch, beer in one hand, remote in the other. He could care less what time I come home.”

      Shante squeezed L.J.’s forearm. “Interested?”

      L.J. nodded. “I’m game. I’m playing tennis with Pete in the morning, but it’s no biggie. I can whup him on just a few hours of sleep.” He locked eyes with Autumn, then directed his query at her. “What about you? Ready for some reggae music and an Island Mojo?” he asked in his best Jamaican accent.

      Autumn wasn’t much of a drinker, but whatever it was it sounded tempting.

      Reading the confusion on her face, he explained. “An Island Mojo is a fruity cocktail mixed with light and dark rum, lemon juice and grenadine. And once you try one, you’ll be hooked.”

      The soothing sound of his voice and the glimmer in his eyes made Autumn wonder if L.J. was trying to work some mojo of his own. She didn’t intend to sound coy when she responded, but the look on his face said that was the message he got. “It sounds delicious, but I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

      “You don’t have to. I’ll buy you one when we get to the club. You know what, Autumn? I’ll buy you as many as you want!”

      Now look who’s trying to be cute, she thought, more than amused. They were out-and-out flirting and now the ball was in her court. Autumn was set to kick the game up a notch, but Shante beat her to it. “You know what my favorite Caribbean cocktail is, L.J.? Skinny-Dipping on a Nude Beach,” Shante purred. She laced her toned arms through his, and rubbed her chest across his forearm like it was butter and he was bread.

      Autumn couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. Shante was throwing out more take-me-home-tonight signs than a baseball catcher and it was annoying. This is torture, she thought, taking a mouthful of her lukewarm cream soda. Could she be any more obvious? Autumn would sooner go line dancing at a country bar than go anywhere with Shante.

      Impatient for a change of scenery, Omar drummed his fingers on the table. “So, what’s the verdict? Are we going or what? People are starting to file out of here.”

      “I’m ready,” Shante winked at L.J, then licked her lips teasingly. “I’m always up for some action. Anytime, anyplace, anywhere.”

      Nixing another eye roll, Autumn searched for a plausible explanation for why she couldn’t join the group. Spending the rest of the evening watching Shante put the moves on L.J. was not her idea of fun. She was eager to apologize to L.J. for Tyrell’s deplorable behavior, but not with Shante the man-eater in the mix. Drinks at the Calypso was definitely out of the question. “I’d love to hang out some more,” she lied, “but I’m beat. I’ve been fighting all night just to keep my eyes open. Sorry, guys. This girl is going home to bed.”

      “Come on,” Yvette pleaded, throwing her arms around Autumn’s shoulders. “I can’t remember the last time we went to the Calypso and enjoyed some live reggae music. Stop acting like a little old lady and come on. You can catch up on sleep tomorrow.”

      “I know, but it’s been a tiring week, Yvette. When I leave here, all I want to do is go home, light some candles, put on some Al Green and take a hot chamomile bath.”

      “Oh, I get it,” Shante quipped, turning her eyes from L.J. to Autumn. “Planning a little sumthin’ sumthin’ back at your place for Tyrell? Speaking of your man, where is he? I thought I saw his fine ass around here somewhere.”

      “Don’t know, don’t care.”

      Shante raised her surgically perfected eyebrows midway up her forehead. “Since when? Y’all looked all lovey-dovey when I ran into you guys having dinner at the Mercury a few weeks ago. This is rather sudden, isn’t it, Autumn? How are you holding up, girl?”

      Autumn wanted to reach across the table and yank that ridiculously long weave out of Shante’s head. “Well,” Autumn began, her eyes dipping to Shante’s overflowing cleavage, “you should know better than anyone how quickly things can change.”

      Omar rubbed his hands together. “Hot damn! This is better than ringside tickets at the MGM Grand!”

      Shante stared Autumn down. Then, to the surprise of everyone at the table, she burst into loud, raucous laughter. “I gather from your testy response that it wasn’t an amicable break-up. You poor, sad soul. I’ve never been dumped, but I can image how difficult it must be. No wonder you’re a mess.”

      Autumn wanted to clock Shante into next week. Delving into the details of her split from Tyrell wasn’t an option, but she wasn’t about to let this she-devil knock her down, either. For the second time that night, someone was trying to humiliate her, but this time she wasn’t having it. Girding herself for a fight, she pressed her hands down on the table and tilted her body forward. “You listen here, you—”

      Yvette projected her voice above Autumn’s, “I’m going to pass on that drink, too. The kids are with their grandmother and I’m sure Elsie’s ready to throttle them. I’m going to go rescue her and take my little darlings home.” She turned to her best friend. “Ready, Autumn?”

      Autumn nodded.

      Omar, who was making eyes at a voluptuous redhead standing alone by the punch bowl, mumbled something about being thirsty, and scurried off.

      Shante beamed. Latching on to L.J.’s arm, she snuggled even closer to him. “Our first date! How romantic.”

      L.J. got to his feet before Shante could go the extra mile and hop right onto his lap. “It’s too late for you ladies to be walking the streets alone. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to escort you to your cars.”

      Yvette shared a look with Autumn. They were both impressed. Yvette smiled at him. “Thanks, L.J., that’s very thoughtful of you.”

      Shante dug her clawlike fingernails into his forearm. “You don’t have to walk them out. Nothing’s going to happen to them on the estate. There are people everywhere! Besides, we should get going. The Calypso is the size of an airplane bathroom, so it doesn’t take much for it to fill up.”

      L.J. didn’t want to be rude, but this buxom woman with the coarse mouth and aggressive personality