Page 60 of Lovers' Dance

“You want me to go wait in the hall?” he asked. The eyebrow had lowered, and I knew whenever his left eyebrow went up and down that fast he was offended.

“Why don’t you and Nathan have a look around the building?” I suggested, ever conscious of the flashing light. Shit. How long had she been on hold? The longer she waited the angrier she would get. Aunt Cleo didn’t like waiting.

Nathan had stopped his approach to the door, glancing between Matt and myself.

“I’d rather stay in here with you,” Matt stated in a tone that expected to be obeyed, then added sneakily, “For moral support, poppet.”

Nathan returned to his original position, the action clearly indicating if Matt was staying, so was he.

Dante looked at me and mouthed, “Crazy-ass white folks.” He shot Matt an unfriendly stare. “This is private, family business. Get out of here.”

Matt didn’t react to Dante’s order. Instead, that damned eyebrow went up again as he coolly surveyed my friend. I don’t think anyone, white or black, spoke to Matt in that way, and lived.

“She’s my girlfriend and I’m staying. Accept it and move on.”

“Girlfriend?” Nathan was peering at Matt as if he’d lost his mind.

“This has nothing to do with you.” Dante walked back into the office while I hugged the doorframe.

“On the contrary, this actually has everything to do with me,” Matt smiled coldly at Dante. “And Madi.”

“Oh, for the love of God.” I abandoned my post in the doorway, shutting the door before storming over to the desk. I pointed a finger at Matt. “Do not say one word. That goes for you too, Nathan.” Then, I looked at Dante. “Will you talk—”

“No, hell, no.” Dante cut me off with a decisive shake of his braided head. Damn. Some friend.

I took a deep calming breath and pressed the button. “Hey, Aunt Cleo. How are—”

“Don’t you ‘Hey, Aunt Cleo’ me.”

I winced at her angry greeting. Dante was giving me pitying glances. “Aunt Cleo, you’re on speaker phone, so if you could—”

“I don’t care if I’m on megaphone. What in the Lord’s name are you getting up to, child? Jamal showed me this stuff on the Internet about you and some rich man.”

I shot a nervous look at Matt who was staring at the phone with morbid fascination. Nathan looked uncomfortable as he made himself busy with the papers in his briefcase.

“Aunt Cleo, let me explain—”

“Explain?” That came out as a shriek. “You listen here. No niece of mine is going to be laying up under some white man. Have you forgotten everything I told you? Most of them are racists, looking down their noses at us black people, keeping us down. You should know better. I didn’t raise you to be a fool.”

“Aunt Cleo—”

“Am I done talking?” she yelled.

“No,” I muttered, staring dejectedly at the phone.

“Then shut your mouth. Always with the sass. You need to get your head together and act right. I have people in my church calling me up, telling me they’ve been reading all sorts of things on the Internet. They are talking about our family, making us look bad.”

“There wasn’t anything much about you and—”

“Madi, if you don’t shut that mouth of yours,” she threatened. I shut my mouth, face heated at being spoken to like a child. Dante straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat lightly.

“Who’s that?” Aunt Cleo asked.

“Hey, Aunt Cleo,” he said warmly. “It’s Dante here—”

“You, you let this happen.” She started berating him. It was my turn to send him a pitying glance. “You’re supposed to be taking care of her over there. How could you let her take up with that man, Dante? Don’t you have any nice friends to take her out? Shame on you. Now everyone’s gossiping about her. Calling her a sell-out, a-a—white man’s hoe.”

“Aunt Cleo,” I burst out, hurt that she would say that and painfully aware of Matt’s silent observance. I should’ve dragged his butt out of there before taking the call.

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