Other People's Business - Pamela Yaye Mills & Boon Kimani

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out between them didn’t mean they had to be enemies. Things hadn’t been all bad. Being with Tyrell had taught her some valuable life lessons, and she thanked him for the experiences he had given her. He made no apologies for his grandiose lifestyle and encouraged those around him to live life to the fullest. And that’s exactly what she was going to do, just not with him.

      Autumn set her voice in the tone she reserved for when people pushed her too far. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I just met L.J. today. Furthermore, you and I aren’t together so how can I be cheating on you?”

      “Is it my fault I was sick?” he challenged. Tyrell watched her eyes darken several shades and could almost see steam blowing out of her ears. It was time to wave the white flag. She was angry and upset and arguing with her wouldn’t help matters any. He stepped into the space that separated them, and traced her jawline with his index finger. “I’m sorry you’re upset, babe but I’m only human.” His face softened as he worked his slightly chapped lips into his most charming smile “I messed up, okay? But I promise to do better next time. You know I care about you, don’t you? You mean everything to me, that’s why I came here tonight. I wanted to see you.”

      Autumn examined Tyrell’s face. Remorse was absent and his eyes were blank. Tyrell’s half-hearted apology did nothing to salve her bruised feelings. If anything, it made her angrier.

      He thinks he can just waltz in here, slap a stupid smile on his face and things will be fine! Do I ever have news for him! Autumn tilted her head to the side, as if she was staring up at the sky. “I’ve had my fill of your tired promises, Tyrell. I deserve more than what you’ve been giving me and your lukewarm apologies mean nothing to me anymore. It’s time for us to go our separate ways.” Her voice was firm, but she couldn’t completely restrain the quiver in her voice.

      “Things have been over between us for some time now, but for some reason I was scared to let you go. I’m not scared anymore, Tyrell.” She waited a few seconds for her words to sink in. “I hope in time we can try being friends again.” Autumn didn’t mean it, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

      Tyrell’s face registered surprise. “What are you saying?” he asked, a note of skepticism in his voice. “Are you saying this is it? It’s over for once and all? Is that what you’re telling me?”

      How much clearer could she be? Did he want her to write it on her forehead in neon pink marker? “Tyrell. It’s over.” Autumn knew she was doing the right thing, but it didn’t lessen the pain she felt in her heart.

      Tyrell reached for Autumn, but she drew back. Mumbling under his breath, he drew a hand over his contorted face and then through his wavy hair.

      Autumn watched his phoney smile wane as shock gave way to anger. She stepped back. There was no telling what he might do. She had seen him lose control so many times before, nothing he said or did would surprise her.

      Tyrell threw his hands up in the air. “Fine Autumn, if that’s the way you want it, but don’t come crying to me when you realize you’ve made a mistake.” After a brief pause, he spoke again. His voice was chillingly cold. “I knew I should have cut you loose a long time ago. I don’t know what I was thinking wasting my time with a frigid stuck-up chick like you when I have swimsuit models blowing up my phone.” He stomped over to his glistening black Porsche Boxer, and gripped the door handle. “You’ll come back to me. You always do, “he vowed, sliding inside the driver’s seat. He brought the muted engine to life, and it roared loud enough to wake up all the residents on the block. He ripped out of the estate and into the bleak night, leaving Autumn in a cloud of swirling dust.

      Chapter 4

      Ten minutes later, Autumn was back in the tent, trying to keep up with the mindless chatter.

      Darcee Kingsway, a willowy, pencil-thin Asian woman standing next to her, gulped down the rest of her drink and then waved over the crinkly-haired waitress standing nearby. Darcee dumped her empty wine flute on the tray the waitress held and helped herself to another. “So, I understand your parents are vacationing in Martinique. When are they due back?”

      “I have no idea. They keep pushing back their return date, but I suspect it’ll be sometime next month.”

      Darcee twisted the dazzling rhinestone bracelet on her left wrist, and in a tone that was more alcohol-induced than natural, said, “Vance bought me this when we went to Martinique for our first wedding anniversary. Since then, we’ve been to the island at least a dozen times. It’s the place to go to be properly spoiled and pampered, you know. We always stay at the Ilet Oscar, a tiny private island offshore from the town of Le Francois. The enormous nineteenth-century house is simply delightful! It’s staffed with a full-time, live-in maid, cook, masseuse and boatman. Would you believe the house has a twenty-acre tropical reserve and…”

      Why didn’t I just go home? Autumn wondered. After watching Tyrell disappear down the block, she had spent some time outside gathering her wits about her. She wasn’t upset that Tyrell had yelled at her. She was ticked off that he’d made a fool of her in front of L.J. Sure, he was a virtual stranger, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed being humiliated. She had returned to the party with the sole purpose of apologizing to him, but after scouring the tent and spotting him huddled in a tiny, dark corner with Shante, her interest had died faster than quick-dry nail polish.

      Autumn stole a glance at the attractive twosome, wishing she had some nerve gas to throw into their cozy semicircle. Her eyebrows wrinkled in displeasure. Shante was all over him like chocolate icing on a brownie. She looked on, utterly appalled, as the man-eater pulled out all the stops. Licked her crimson-painted lips. Twirled strands of her “hair” around her middle finger. And swayed seductively to the Ricky Martin song playing.

      Women like that made Autumn sick. Trained in nothing, Shante Patterson had recently cashed in her trust fund and put the money to good use upgrading her physical assets. Her breasts had been enhanced, her eyes had been permanently eyelined and liposuction had erased her love handles. L.J. didn’t seem like the type to go for such a plastic-looking woman. But what did she know about what he, or any other man wanted for that matter?

      “Come dance with me.”

      Autumn peeked over her shoulder to ascertain who the throaty voice belonged to.

      Omar winked at her, then his mouth broke out into an ear-to-ear smile. “I want to see your moves, Sexy Lady.”

      Autumn returned his smile. Omar, the youngest of eight groomsmen and Peter’s cousin, had been flirting with her all night. She couldn’t help teasing him. “Are you sure? Because it looks like you could use a break.”

      His smoky-gray suit jacket was nowhere to be found and his short-sleeved, olive-green dress shirt was drenched in sweat. He pulled out a white, crumpled handkerchief from his front pocket and wiped frantically to keep up with the sweat trickling from his neck-length dreadlocks and down his face. “Oh, I’m ready for you,” he came back with. “I have been waiting to get you out on that dance floor all night.”

      Autumn opened her mouth to say maybe later, but caught herself. Why not? What she’d had with Tyrell was over. Done. Finished. To be no more. There was no use throwing away the rest of the night because she had a case of the blahs. She could analyze the demise of their relationship tomorrow. It was Melissa’s engagement party and she wasn’t about to let what had transpired with Tyrell put a damper on her night. She allowed Omar to pull her to her feet. Lobbing her shawl over her chair, she said, “All right, Omar, you asked for it. Let’s go!”

      Omar wasn’t nearly as good a dancer as L.J., but he held his own on the dance floor. After working up a sweat to several radio-friendly songs, Autumn needed a break. Her feet were on fire. She didn’t know what had possessed her to dance in her cute shoes. Her heels earned high marks in the style and fashion department, but when it came to comfort they scored zero.

      Autumn strained her voice so she could be heard over the music. “I need a break, Omar. I’m going to sit this one out, but I’ll see you

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