back to Michelle, he placed
an arm around the back of her chair.”Listen, let's start over.
Lunch maybe one day next week?”
“ Give me a call.” Michelle's
mind was in a whirl with that simple invitation.
Anthony gave her hand a pat before
leaving. He was all grace as he wove his way through the tables to
join Keisha. Michelle felt a warm stirring at the animal way his
body moved. Her hand tingled where he had touched it. Well, surely
one lunch was harmless. She was still absentmindedly rubbing her
hand when Laree came back.
“ Uh-huh, y'all can't stay
away from each other. Soon as I spotted him over on the other side
of the dance floor eyeing you I knew he'd be over here.”Laree
plopped down and took a swig of ice tea.
“ You wench. Why didn't you
tell me?”
“ You kidding? I wasn't ready
to leave. You probably would've jumped up hollering `Let's go'. No
way, sugar. Not with all these beautiful BPMs.”
“ What?”
“ Black Professional Men. We
got a bumper crop this year and it's harvest time, honey. ‘Course
you've got the one prize every woman in town is after.”Laree nodded
toward Anthony's table.
“ We haven't even been on
speaking terms for years.”Michelle avoided her gaze.
“ I notice you seemed to be
getting along very well
just now.”
“ I suppose it's time to let
go of old grudges. It was a long time ago. We're both mature enough
to, you know, look at things differently.”Michelle gazed at
Anthony, so dashing in his black tuxedo. He wore formal clothes as
easily as a flannel shirt and jeans.
“ Are you saying Ike Batiste
is not so bad?” Laree gaped at her.
“ Of course not. But I can't
expect Anthony to turn on the man who practically adopted him and
gave him the affection his father didn't.”
“ So, you're saying Anthony
is not so bad and you two are gonna heat it up. Go, girl.” Laree
gave her a playful nudge.
“ Forget it. I'm only saying
we could be... on better terms.”Michelle still wouldn't look at
her.
“ This is me you're talking
to, sweetheart. With you and Anthony, being on better terms is just
the first step to Love Land. Watch what I'm saying.”
“ He won't get that close to
me, not ever again.” Michelle made it a point not to look in the
direction of Anthony's table for the rest of the
evening.
***
Sitting up in bed at three-thirty the
next morning, Michelle uttered a soft curse at the glowing blue
numbers of the clock radio next to her bed. Hot chocolate, old
movies, even a boring book, all her usual remedies for insomnia had
failed. She had spent the better part of the night in a futile
effort to block thoughts of him. It was as if the image of his
strong jaw, those eyes, and that body was burned onto her eyelids.
Each time she closed her eyes, there he was. To make matter worse,
memories of being in his arms came flooding back. And she kept
hearing his voice. Yes, she too had missed their friendship. But
could she risk letting him back into her life? His admiration for
Ike Batiste disturbed her.
“ Uncle Ike,” Michelle said
out loud.
Uncle Ike, who used people for his own
gain. Who was ruthless in business and, according to gossip, with
women. Even in high school, Anthony had emulated him. And when her
father's business went sour, everything about Anthony seemed to
reflect his Uncle Ike. If what Greg Matthews implied about his
dealing with Charlotte Kinchen and the Housing Authority was indeed
true, Uncle Ike had not changed one bit.
Still, the happy memories of she and
Anthony together crowded out the negatives. Michelle rubbed her
already reddened eyes and sank beneath the comforter. The warmth of
the quilts wrapped around her, reminding her of the way it felt to
be wonderfully enclosed in Anthony's arms and affection. Sighing,
she dozed off feeling a tiny prick of longing. A longing she
thought had been successfully rooted out years ago.
Chapter 3
“ This is a hot one, baby.
Ike Batiste is going down.”Earl