You still can’t get anyone to pick up?” Kandi asked from the driver’s seat of the car.

“Nope, I’ve been calling Syn for the last hour and no one is answering. Dammit!”

“Girl, I feel your pain. That identity theft stuff is no joke. Now you gotta call and cancel everything.”

“I’m not worried about identity theft,” Mandisa answered. “I only ever carry my ID, a single credit card, and a few bills when I go out. I keep them in my bra or pocket. I left my keys at the store. The only thing in my purse was my last tube of Sweet Sadie’s Butterscotch Lip Luster and face powder.”

“So, you’re sitting over there mad about some cosmetics? All of which you can pick back up when you go to work at one of the five stores you own?” Kandi’s questions were laden with suspicion.

“Uh, obviously you haven’t looked at the inventory report, Ms. Executive Manger. If you had, you’d know we’re out of Butterscotch Lip Luster and won’t have any more until the shipment arrives next week. I love that gloss.”

“More likely you loved getting next to that sexy-ass man you were sitting next to with the pretty eyes and broad shoulders.” Kandi’s smirk was fully visible, making her regret that Kandi could read Mandisa so well.

Mandisa sighed loudly. No need in lying. Shame the devil, tell the truth. “Fine doesn’t even cover it, girl. Everything about him was sexy. And the way his lips felt—”

“Wait, you kissed him!” Kandi’s outburst made Mandisa squeal.

“Girl, didn’t you see?”

Kandi shook her head furiously. “No. I was too busy walking and texting with Sarah about our lush of a friend Anna. When I spotted you and called your name, you two were just eye-fucking each other.”

Mandisa’s insides began to sizzle again with the thought of Slade’s lips. A few kisses and some great conversation, and he’d found a way inside her head.

“I couldn’t help it.” Mandisa’s voice sounded strange to her own ears. Light and bubbly, filled with hopeful excitement. She sounded like a smitten schoolgirl. She could wholeheartedly admit that without the least bit of shame.

“He was sitting there looking pretty and smelling like sex and my favorite flavor of ice cream all mixed together, and I just had to lean in and get a taste. Wouldn’t you?”

Kandi continued laughing. “I sure as hell would have.”

“Well, his number is in that purse, so if I can’t find it, I’ll never be able to find Mr. Sexy again.” Mandisa huffed and let the back of her skull sink into the headrest.

“Chile, you know like I know, you’d better stop chatting with me and keep trying to get someone at Syn on the phone. You can’t give up on finding that level of sexy.”

Mandisa dialed Syn again. Kandi was right. She couldn’t give up on that kind of sexy without trying.

* * *

Mandisa sipped from the plastic coffee cup like it contained life’s elixir. She was dragging this morning. Between the late night and the early-morning sick calls from two employees at her Pitkin Avenue store, she’d had to cut her sleep short to arrive early enough for opening.

She grudgingly set about her tasks. She and the lone employee who hadn’t eaten the funky-looking food from the new takeout spot around the corner, prepped the store for the expected busy day.

It was Saturday. The store was located on the same block as a beauty salon, an African hair-braiding shop, and a nail salon. Sweet Sadie’s supplied wholesale items to the owners of those stores and retail products to the patrons. If you lived in Brooklyn, or any ’hood for that matter, Saturdays meant one thing—getting your hair and nails slayed for the weekend and buying the necessary products and tools to keep you looking good until your next visit to the salon.

She was currently helping a woman search for a product she saw on MyTV. Thank God for the DIY gurus that vlogged their tips on beauty and style and the followers like this woman who came to Sweet Sadie’s to find their praised recs.

Usually Mandisa would be thrilled to listen to whatever the new craze was. It was one of the ways she kept her stores and products relevant, keeping ahead of the beauty trends by meeting the needs of her patrons. But today this woman’s indecisiveness was just getting on Mandisa’s last nerve.

Annoyed as she was, Mandisa continued to smile politely, trying to ignore the dull pain the customer’s incessant questions kept inflicting. When her employee was free, Mandisa turned the customer over to her and headed to the back for a brief break. She mentally chastised herself as she walked into the storage room. She might’ve been annoyed by the sick calls and having to come in early, but her sour mood had more to do with Slade’s lost number than having to cover the store, and she knew it.

“Slade.” The sound of it just slid down her tongue so smoothly. A little sweet mixed with a whole lot of spice. “No sense dwelling on it. That purse, along with his card, has gone to hell.”

She looked at her watch and noted they had three more hours until the store closed. She could do this. She had no other choice. When you were the boss, you couldn’t opt out, even when you wanted to. Those were the rules.

* * *

Slade stared at the folded piece of paper in his hand. He’d found it last night in Mandisa’s forgotten bag. He’d looked inside hoping to find some form of identification he could use to contact her. No such luck. Instead, there was a lip-gloss, a compact, and a single piece of notepaper with a telephone number.

He’d picked up his phone to dial it when he’d arrived back at his hotel, but hesitated. The thought crossed his mind that the number possibly belonged to some other man who had shown interest in her last night. Why would she need to write her own number on a slip of paper?

“You can sit here thinking on it, or you can dial it and find out.”

Hearing his thoughts out loud pushed him into action. He dialed the number and waited three rings before someone answered it.

“Hello?”

It was a female’s voice, but it didn’t sound as sultry and thoughtful as Mandisa’s.

“Hello. May I speak with Mandisa, please?”

“Are you seriously calling my phone looking for Mandisa?”

“I’m sorry, sugar. I take it I have the wrong number?”

There was a brief pause before he heard the woman’s voice again. “Wait a minute. That twang sounds familiar. Is this that sexy Texan that was loved up with Mandisa last night? This is Kandi.”

Slade could feel the blood warming his face at Kandi’s description of him. “Was that Mandisa’s depiction of me, or yours?”

“Both.” She laughed, apparently tickled by her answer. “But Mandisa saw you first. Girl code dictates I fall back and let her have you. So, again, Big Sexy, why are you calling me looking for her?”

He shook his head at the mouthful the woman on the other end gave him. He was correct in his assessment. Mandisa was attracted to him.

“Mandisa left her purse on our table last night. I’m trying to contact her to return it.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re calling me.” Kandi replied.

“The only thing I found in the purse was a compact, some lip gloss, and a folded piece of paper with this number on it. No name, just the number.”

“Oh,” Kandi sang into the line. “I changed my number when I bought a new phone yesterday. I wrote it down for her before we left the store. She must have left the paper in her bag after she transferred it to her phone.”

Slade found himself laughing as he imagined how animated she must be while having this conversation with him. “Kandi, not that it isn’t an absolute pleasure talking to you, but is Mandisa around for me to chat with?”

“Unfortunately, no. She’s not around today.”

“Would you tell me how to contact her?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “You’re cute as hell, but you could be a psycho. Not about to expose my girl to you.”

Slade shook his head. Mandisa was right. New Yorkers really were naturally distrustful. “Honey, I wouldn’t hurt a fly. Please, if you don’t want to give me her contact info, then do me this favor. Give her my number and tell her to meet me for dinner tonight. There’s a restaurant at the Oceanview Hotel off North Conduit Avenue. I’ll be there at eight.”

The line was quiet for longer than an acceptable pause. “Kandi, you still there?”

“Yeah. I’ll give her your message. But just because you’re sexy, don’t think I won’t come for you if you turn out to be some crazed maniac that’s got his sights set on my girl.”

Slade laughed. He liked this woman. He also didn’t take her warning lightly. “I promise. The only thing I want to do is have a meal with her and spend a little time in her company if she’s willing.”

“All right, Big Sexy. What’s your number?”

* * *

The heavy base of Jagged Edge’s “Where the Party At?” made Mandisa jump and knock the top of her head on a low-hanging shelf in the stock room. She scrambled and answered the phone on the third ring.

“Kandi, what’s up?”

“Busy?”

Mandisa looked around at the three unpacked boxes of products waiting to be shelved and sighed. “Not with anything that can’t wait. What do you need?’

“A sexy, big man from Texas called asking if you were missing a purse.”

Mandisa took a minute to process her friend’s words. Either the poorly ventilated storage space filled with beauty products was getting to her, or Kandi just said she spoke to Slade. “Really?”

“Yes, apparently you left my new number in your bag. He called it hoping to contact you.”

Mandisa smiled at the thought of Slade seeking her out. She could feel the excitement bubbling under her skin in anticipation of talking to him again. The idea of Slade calling her “darlin’” like she’d imagined he would placed her in a haze that nearly made her forget she was on the phone.

“Mandisa, are you still there?” Kandi’s voice shook her out of her daydream and forced her to focus on the conversation. “He asked me for your number, and I told him no.”

“Kandi, you did what?”

“I told him no. Look, if he really is into you, no harm in making him work for it. I took his number down. He’s expecting you to call him and confirm your dinner tonight at the Oceanview by JFK.”

Mandisa pressed stiff fingers against her temple as she dragged in a heavy breath. “So let me get this straight. You wouldn’t give him my number, but you made a date for me with him at a hotel restaurant? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? You basically just agreed to deliver me to him.”

Mandisa could hear Kandi sucking her teeth through the phone line. “Girl, stop it. The way you were almost sitting in that man’s lap last night, it’s pretty obvious he ain’t all that strange to you. The only thing that man plans on hurting is your self-imposed celibacy.”

Kandi was probably right, but that wasn’t the issue. “Kandi.”

“Mandisa, you need to have some fun. What happened to my girl who partied all the time? The woman that did her damn thing in a lab by day and killed the club scene at night? What happened to the woman who would’ve met a sexy man like this Slade character and took what she wanted immediately, instead of letting fate get the chance to screw her over? All you do is work and crunch numbers, Mandisa. You don’t even spend that much time in your lab anymore.”

Mandisa pushed a long, loud breath through her mouth. Everything Kandi stated was true. These were the facts of the situation. That was the woman Mandisa used to be. But then that evil bitch cancer came and stole her mother from her.

“Kandi, you know my mama dreamed of—”

“Yeah, I know exactly what Ms. Sadie’s dream was.” Kandi’s interruption jarred Mandisa, forcing her to pay close attention to her friend’s words. “Ms. Sadie’s dream was to expand and get her Sweet Sadie’s products on the shelves of major retailers. She wanted to do all the work this required. The stores, the products were her life. When did this become your dream, though? Because as far back as I can remember, all you ever cared about was using science to create cool things like sparkly royal-blue eye shadow.”

Mandisa kneaded the back of her neck with stiff fingers. Those were loaded questions Mandisa didn’t really want to ponder. Would it be a betrayal to her mother’s memory, her legacy, to speak the truth?

“Running the stores, growing the stores, was never a dream of mine. But Mama didn’t live to see this dream. I’m the only one left to make it happen for her.”

“Mandisa.” Kandi’s voice oozed sympathy tinged with pity. It was a putrid combination of emotion Mandisa hated being on the receiving end of. From the moment her mother’s doctor diagnosed Sadie with end-stage ovarian cancer to the day of her mother’s burial, sympathy and pity mocked her, always telling her she was about to lose something. Back then it was her mother—now it was her friend’s respect.

“No, Kandi. Running and owning Sweet Sadie’s was never my dream. If I could give it to someone else and walk away, I would in a heartbeat. But there’s no one else that’s going to love it and tend to it the way my mother would have, so I have to do it. No one else will ever understand why we do what we do, why these products we sell are so significant to our communities.”

“Just don’t work yourself to death trying to succeed. Go have some fun with that sexy cowboy.”

Mandisa’s laughter pinged off the walls of the small supply closet she was standing in. “I don’t think being from Texas qualifies him as being a cowboy. You’re stereotyping, Kandi.”

“Girl, whatever. That man looks like he was born calving, and rodeoing, and doing whatever else they do on ranches and farms in the Wild West. You’d just better take advantage of him and let him do the same to you.”

They laughed for a few minutes more until Mandisa heard the chimes above the front door signal someone’s entrance into the store.

“Gotta go, Kandi. Someone just came into the store. Since it seems I’ve got dinner plans to make, I’d better close up a little early and go make myself presentable.”

“All right, I’m going. Just make sure you spend the night with that man. If you do, I suppose you’ll be limber enough to come in and wow these big spenders looking to invest in Sweet Sadie’s tomorrow.”

“Girl, bye.” Mandisa offered, running a quick hand over her hair and face. She wasn’t runway ready. A fitted V-necked T-shirt, black jeans, and a pair of sneakers made up her uniform. A quick glance in a small wall mirror showed her light makeup was still in place since her last refresh. She was presentable, but the next time she saw Slade, she wanted to be more than just presentable. She needed to be flawless.