The Trouble with Luv'. Pamela Yaye

Her family never thought I was good enough for her anyways.” He hung his head, but the anguish in his voice was unmistakable when he said, “I miss dem kids, especially the baby. She was just a few weeks old when my wife left. She’s three now and don’t even know her own daddy.”

      “At least your ma didn’t toss you out on the street so her pimp could move in.”

      Ebony swung her head to the right. Her gaze landed on the slight adolescent-looking girl with the chalk-white lips sitting next to Amelia. The girl reminded her of Halle Barry in New Jack City. The stringy blond hair. Cheap makeup. Too-short skirt and stretchy blouse. Ebony didn’t know what drug she was abusing, but it was obvious she was a slave to something.

      “Back in the day, I was the most popular girl in school. All the brothers wanted to get with me. Jocks. Pretty boys. Geeks.” She snorted. “Today, those boys wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.”

      Silence fell over the table. In the silence, Ebony searched for the right thing to say. “There are places you can go and get help. Agencies. Shelters. Community Centers. They’ll get you off the street, help you stay clean and give you a fresh start.”

      “There’s no help for me. Ma used to say I’d never amount to anything. Told me I’d end up turning tricks like her. Said it was in my blood.” With a flick of her head, she said, “Guess she was right.”

      Ebony extended a hand. “I’m Ebony. What’s your name?”

      “Why do you care?” The woman’s eyes hardened, and her shoulders arched like she was gearing for a fight. She took in Ebony’s perfect hair, flawless complexion and polished nails. “You must feel pretty good about yourself, huh? Serving poor black folk. I bet you think you’re better than us. All dressed up in designer clothes and shit.”

      It took a lot for Ebony to get embarrassed. But when a hush fell over the room and people at surrounding tables gawked at her, she felt her face flush. She didn’t dare look over at Xavier; she could feel the heat of his angry stare right where she was. Drinking from her glass didn’t loosen her airway. Keep your cool, she told herself. Don’t argue with her. If you ignore her, she’ll get bored and move on to something else.

      No such luck.

      “Is this your good deed for the year, Ms. Socialite? Feeding homeless bums? Giving advice? Pretending to care? Trying to make the world a better place, huh?”

      For the first time in Ebony’s life, she was speechless. Running a shaky hand through her hair, she wished that she were back at home, in bed, figuring out the latest mystery on CSI.

      “Don’t you hear me talking to you?”

      Ebony’s eyes spread. Is she talking to me?

      “Yeah, you heard me, Miss I-think-I’m-Better-Than-Everybody-Else. You’re too good to answer me now, huh? People like you make me sick. You walk up in here like you know what’s going on out there on the streets, but you have no idea. I’ve been taking care of myself for years—y-e-a-r-s—and I don’t need no damn agency making my life worse.” Her eyes tapered. “I don’t need your advice, either, ya hear? I can take care of my damn self!” She leaped out of her seat and the plastic chair sailed back on the floor and landed with a clunk. Leveling more insults at Ebony, she snatched up her frayed windbreaker and then stormed out of the hall.

      Chapter 5

      “My dogs ache,” Sister Bertha announced, hobbling into the kitchen some three hours later. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but my shift is over. Come on, Willy, let’s go home. Mama needs to soak her feet.”

      The other two couples followed suit, leaving Xavier and Ebony alone to finish up. The next forty-five minutes flew by quickly, as they worked to get the church basement back in shape.

      Ebony couldn’t remember the last time she had worked this hard. She had swept and mopped the kitchen floor while Xavier stacked the tables, collected garbage and vacuumed. Once the dishwasher was loaded, and the cycle set, Ebony was going to bid Xavier good-night and head home. Anything that had been overlooked would be his responsibility. She was beat. So tired she could hardly keep her eyes open.

      “Where’s the dishwasher?” she asked, checking underneath the sink and along the counter. “Is it in the storage room or something?”

      Xavier tapped his chest. “You’re looking at it!” The look of disbelief on Ebony’s face brought a grin to his mouth. “The church doesn’t have the extra money to buy one,” he explained. “So for now—” he held up his hands “—these will have to do.”

      Ebony faced the sink. It was overflowing with crusted plates and utensils and the counter was piled as well. What she really wanted to do was go home, but she didn’t feel right leaving Xavier alone when there was still work to be done. The clock on the microwave said it was five minutes to ten. The sooner they got started, the sooner she could go home. Ebony picked up one of the sponges on the counter and flung it his way. “You wash, and I’ll rinse.”

      They worked side by side for the next twenty minutes. Conversation was minimal; the only sound in the kitchen was of clinking dishes and gushing water. Xavier thought of his plans for the weekend while he washed; Ebony thought about work while she rinsed. She would be spending much of the morning behind her desk, proofreading reports on her company’s five-year plan. She and Kendall had a follow-up meeting with the senior loan officer at First National Trust Bank in eight weeks and they couldn’t afford to be unprepared.

      Six Discreet Boutiques stores were scattered throughout Minneapolis, some in high-end malls, others in single standing buildings. The idea of opening her own boutique had been conceived after interning at Victoria’s Secret. Ebony had always loved soft things, and in her opinion, nothing made a woman feel prettier or sexier than lace. After she’d shared her aspirations with Kendall, who had an eye for design, they had come up with the idea to host weekly “Silk Parties” in their dorm room. It was new and exciting and before long, all the girls on campus were trying to wrangle an invitation. In the fashion of Avon and Mary Kay, Ebony and Kendall had organized the event to give women of all shapes, colors and sizes the opportunity to sample undergarments, place orders, offer feedback on previously purchased lingerie and make suggestions. The “Silk Parties” had been an instant hit, and after peddling their merchandise on campus for two years, they’d had enough profits to rent a small store.

      The present day success of Discreet Boutiques wasn’t enough for Ebony. Opening additional stores, expanding the company to neighbouring states and taking it worldwide would be the culmination of all her dreams. These days, lingerie and sensual products were a billion-dollar industry. Ebony was thankful they hadn’t thrown in the towel those first few years when business had been rough. Poor quality lingerie, meager sales and slothful and indecorous staff had threatened to do them in when they opened their first boutique, almost ten years ago, but when their marketing director, Sabrina Navarro, had come on board, there had been a dramatic turnaround. The advancement of women in society, and the influx of moms working outside the home, had given “the weaker sex” both confidence and independence. Modern day women knew what they wanted in their careers, their relationships and most importantly—the bedroom.

      Ebony was so absorbed in her musings she didn’t notice Xavier watching her. Like a well-oiled machine, she took the dish he passed her, rinsed it and placed it on the rack to dry. As she turned to receive the next dish, her hands skimmed his hands and sent a ripple of desire through her body. Recovering quickly from the jolt, she turned to face him. Ebony pointed at the dishes in the sink. “You’re supposed to be washing, not watching me.”

      Xavier gave her a grin. “Looks like someone’s head is in the clouds. He must be very special.” Xavier didn’t wait for her to deny or confirm. The cheeky expression on her face was answer enough. “So, you have a boyfriend?”

      Ebony smiled like she had a secret she was unwilling to share.

      Shaking his head in disbelief, he shoved a plate into her hands. Disapproval was in his eyes and in the tone of his voice