The Heat Seekers
They both started primping in the wall-length mirror, trying to busy themselves until the other woman left so they could get back to gossiping. Both of their mouths flew open when they saw a six-foot-five man come out of the handicapped stall—with a floral dress on.
Janessa looked at Tempest’s reflection in the mirror and saw her eyes bulge. Tempest started rifling through her purse, searching for her wide-toothed comb, and Janessa pretended to straighten up her bra. She looked down at the man’s feet when he came over to wash his hands and figured he had to be sporting at least a size-thirteen dress sandal.
He was white with blue eyes and wore a blond, curly wig under a straw hat. Tempest almost busted out laughing when he pulled out his own tube of lipstick and expertly applied it in the mirror. He was standing in between them and startled them both when he spoke.
“How you ladies doin’ tonight?” he drawled in a heavy Southern accent.
Tempest was speechless.
“We’re fine, and you?” Janessa replied.
“Just fine. However, I’m ready to get my eat on,” he said coyly. “I’m starvin’!” Tempest and Janessa both fell silent, hoping he would get the hell out. He adjusted his bra, which was obviously stuffed with something, and headed toward the door. “Well, you ladies have a good one.”
“You, too,” Tempest sputtered out.
He was halfway out the door when he turned around and added, “By the way, that sensual massage/shampoo thing sounds like it’s the bomb, girl! You have a good man like that, you better keep him. I agree with your girlfriend. You need to give it up before he steps out on you. Hell, if I wasn’t already in love, I might go after him myself. He sounds like a winner.”
Once he was gone, Janessa fell up against one of the stall doors, bent over in laughter. “Oh, my goodness, did you see that shit?”
Tempest chuckled, “How could I miss it? Did you hear what he said to me?”
“Hell, yeah, that was too damn funny!”
“See, that’s why I always keep my homie-sexual radar activated.” Tempest cackled. “That dude probably wears suits to work every day and then does his freaky shit at night. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s married with two or three kids.”
“Shame on it!” Janessa exclaimed. “I can’t even talk about Dvontè right now. I’m just too through after this shit!”
Tempest was glad; she didn’t feel like hearing about Dvontè any damn way. “Let’s go on out, then. Maybe our table is ready by now.”
“Cool with me,” Janessa replied, and they headed out the door.
• • •
Geren was growing impatient with the service at the restaurant. He’d called ahead to make reservations, and the delay in being seated was unacceptable.
“I’ll be back,” he said, glancing at Dvontè. “I’m going to see what’s up with the table.”
Dvontè grabbed him by the elbow. “What’s the big hurry? The women are still in the bathroom anyway. Probably talking about us.”
Geren chuckled. “You’re probably right. Women are a trip.”
“I can’t believe I let you drag me out here, man,” Dvontè complained, loosening up his tie.
“I didn’t drag you anywhere,” Geren countered. “I simply suggested we take the ladies out on a double date, since they’re best friends and so are we. It makes sense for all of us to hang out together on occasion.”
“Hang out? Man, the only hanging out I’m trying to do with Janessa is in the bedroom. I did that wedding gig, but that was to get the drawers. Now that I have them, I shouldn’t have to pay to play.”
“You’re one sick cookie, Dvontè,” Geren proclaimed, trying to figure him out. “You mean to tell me you weren’t planning on taking Janessa out anywhere?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Janessa is just a booty service, pure and simple. I’m not even trying to do that relationship thing.”
“Does she know that?”
Dvontè waved Geren off with his hand when he saw the women approaching. “Whatever, man. I’m here tonight, aren’t I?”
With that said, they both threw on strained smiles and joined in casual conversation with the ladies until their table was ready.
• • •