Page 15 of Keeping Busy
She looked up at me, her eyes were warm and calm. She wasn’t taken aback by my behavior. “You ready?” She asked easily.
I nodded stiffly.
She turned to Starrveld. “Take care, Curtis. See you around.”
“Yeah, can’t miss you in that dress, Shawtie.”
This motherfucker. I thought to myself as I watched him walk away. Once he was out of my line of sight, I released Mecca, and walked away myself. She followed me.
We ended up outside, on one of the patios overlooking one of the gardens.
“Busy.” She said my name patiently, like she caught my hand in the cookie jar, after repeatedly telling me to keep it out of there, but was still amused.
“Yo, I’m sorry.” I said not turning around to face her. “I ain’t mean to embarrass you in front of your friend. It was just him, and you, and that fucking dress…”
“You did what you were supposed to do. If I was really your girl, there’s no way you woulda let him hug me like that. If we want this thing to work, you have to treat me like I’m really your girl. Besides, everybody knows Curtis’ ass is a creep. I don’t ever want him touching me.”
I didn’t respond, I was too far in my own head, wishing that I could rewind time. I would’ve slid right in front of dude’s ass, and not let him lay a finger on Mecca.
She leaned close to me. “Can we have a quick ‘getting to know you’ session?”
I finally turned around and faced her. “Yeah, let’s do that, Pudding.”
She smiled at my use of her nickname. “This dress,” she gestured to the dress that I hated, but that looked so good on her. “Is not my usual style. It’s very...flimsy, and thin, and sheer. This dress is for you.”
“For me?” I asked, screwing up my face. “Well, we can burn that motherfucker the minute we get back to your place. I fucking hate that dress. It’s a shit starter, and I already know I’mma have to whup somebody’s ass behind it.”
“This dress is to show the people that you need to show that I’m an upgrade for you from Ainsley Neuberg. When your girl looks good...you look good.”
I shook my head at her words. “You coulda came up in here wearing a tank top, leggings and Jordans and you woulda been an upgrade.” I paused. “Because you’re an upgrade. And thanks for caring about making me look good.”
She nodded. “Oh, what I was saying before about this dress.”
I looked at the offending, yet alluring garment.
“This dress is thin. Like, really thin. It’s almost like having on lingerie in public. I would prefer it if nobody else hugs me tonight.” She looked up at me, with those honey colored eyes. “You up to being in charge of that? You’re good with man to man coverage, right? Think you can cover my body from all of these thirsty dudes?”
“I can definitely cover your body.” I said out loud. In my mind I said, “I’ll do any fucking thing you want me to do to your body...in or out of that dress.”
Later that night, it became clear that I really didn’t understand what I’d signed up for when I told Mecca that I would cover her body. She knew a lot of people at the benefit. Correction, she knew a lot of players at the benefit. I didn’t trip, because I understood that she’d spent two years choreographing for an NBA team, and the last five years choreographing for both the NBA and the NFL. She knew players. That didn’t bother me. What bothered me was the way that basically every dude who approached her to speak, looked at her in that dress. And they all wanted to hug her. I was blocking motherfuckers left and right. Got called a hater a few times, too, but I didn’t care. Mecca said that she didn’t want no thirsty dudes pressing up on her, so none pressed up on her. Except for me. I pressed up on her every opportunity that I got, I mean, all in the vein of making it believable that she was my new love interest.
When we got back to Mecca’s building that night, I left Heavy in the truck, while I walked her up to her unit. I stood behind her, taking in the dips and curves of her bare back and the cut of the dress, as it barely skimmed the top of her ass.
She unlocked the door, pushed it open and turned around to face me. The way she was standing, halfway inside her darkened condo, her right hip popped forward, that white dress draping so naughtily over her body, made me lick my lips.
Damn!I thought to myself. If she was actually my girl, she would have been halfway out of that dress already. When I noticed that her eyes were trained on my mouth, I involuntarily licked my lips again.
“Thanks for tonight, Busy.” She said, managing to drag her eyes up to meet mine. She motioned for me to come inside her place. “Thanks for making sure all the creeps, freaks, and opportunists didn’t get the chance to feel me up.”
I chuckled. I had felt her up enough for everybody during the course of the night. My arms had been draped around her shoulders while she stood in front of me, as we talked to a local radio DJ that we both knew. I kept her pulled close to my side as we browsed the items that were available through the silent auction. I rested my shoulder against hers, as we sat at the table and ate dinner with my colleagues.
Each time some dude approached, trying to love her up by way of greeting, I pulled her into my body, usually full frontal, shook my head and said, “Not today, Dawg. No hugs today. You just need to wave.” Each time I pulled her close, she seemed to melt into me - fold her body into mine until we were flush. Whatever vibe we were giving off, it seemed to work. Eventually, dudes stopped trying to hug up on her.
“Thanks for lettingmefeel you up all night.”
She cut her eyes at me. “Right? You were a little handsy. Halfway through the evening, I was thinking that your grandmother must be dancing in Heaven. She stayed trying to scheme on ways to get us together like we were tonight.”
I laughed out loud at that. “Are you serious? She was giving you that smoke, too? I swear, everytime I talked to that lady she was making up some excuse for me to contact you. I can’t believe she was doing the same thing to you.”
