Zane's the Heat Seekers

  Tempest wanted to get up and leave; she just didn’t feel it was appropriate to get freaky in front of her elders. As fine as they were, though, she wasn’t about to budge until she saw a little sumptin’ sumptin’.

  The Lone Banger handed Chiquita a cassette tape to put on for their performance, surveyed the room, and announced, “Ladies, by the time this night is over, there won’t be a dry pair of panties in the house.”

  Then the freakiness began.

  CHAPTER 6

  the wedding

  “hold up one sec! I’ll be right back!”

  Tempest left Janessa in a stupor at the front door of her apartment and rushed into her bedroom.

  “Where are you going?” Janessa asked. “We have to hurry up and get dressed.”

  “I am dressed!” Tempest yelled from the bedroom.

  “Not in this, you aren’t!” Janessa yelled back at her, holding up a black garment bag in her right hand.

  “I’ll be back out there in a minute.”

  Janessa grew impatient and went into Tempest’s bedroom. She was shocked to find Tempest lying up in the bed with the covers up to her chin. “What the hell are you doing, sis?”

  “Going back to bed so I can wake up all over again.” Tempest pulled the comforter over her head completely and turned over on her side, facing away from Janessa. “It’s obvious I’m having a freakin’ nightmare.”

  “Ha! Ha! Ha! Very funny!” Janessa threw the garment bag on Tempest’s dresser and then yanked the comforter off Tempest and completely off the bed, tossing it on the floor. “Now get up, take off the outfit you have on, and put on the bridesmaid gown. Hurry up so we won’t be late.”

  “Janessa, pleassssssse tell me you’re kidding,” Tempest pleaded. “This is some sort of sick joke, right?”

  “No, it’s not,” Janessa replied, smacking her lips in disgust. “I already told you, Chiquita fractured her leg last night trying to do some freaky, acrobatic sex shit with her boyfriend. Those strippers at the party must have seriously put her in the mood, because she’s laid up in the hospital with her leg elevated in a cast.”

  Tempest rolled her eyes, no more swayed by the second rendition of the story than by the first one Janessa had thrown at her when she answered the door. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” she said, trying to show an ounce of compassion. “I feel sorry for Chiquita, I really do. However, there is no way in the hell I’m taking her place in Marquita’s wedding. That shit is just simply out of the question.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Janessa threw the garment bag on the foot of the bed and starting unzipping it. “I ask you for one damn favor, for my family, mind you, and you start trippin’ on me.”

  “Janessa, I love you. You know that.” Tempest propped herself up on her elbows so she could see the monstrosity Janessa was pulling out of the bag. “But I don’t love you enough to wear that raunchy, tasteless, ridiculous-looking dress.”

  “Come on, shit!” Janessa squealed. “I have to wear one just like it. Mine is out in the living room, on the couch.”

  “That’s all good,” Tempest said, glaring at the red flame satin dress with ruffles, which looked more like a hooker’s street-corner outfit than a bridesmaid gown. “I’m happy for you, and I’ll cheer you on from the front pew, but I’m not—”

  “You will not be cheering me on from the pew, because your ass is going to be standing right beside me.”

  “You must be on crack!”

  “I’m not on crack, but I bet I’ll slap the living shit out of you if you don’t put this dress on, Tempest!”

  “Just try it.” Tempest chuckled, knowing good and damn well Janessa would never have the guts to lay a finger on her.

  Realizing that her idle threats were falling on deaf ears, Janessa resorted to her next tactic, a guilt trip. “Tempest, you just don’t know,” she began, sitting on the bed beside her and rubbing away nonexistent tears. “Marquita had me on the phone all morning. She’s so upset about all of this. She just doesn’t want her wedding day to be ruined. Can’t you understand that? Can’t you feeeeeeel her pain?”

  Oh brother, Tempest thought to herself. Gurlfriend is really laying it on thick.

  “Why can’t she just have three bridesmaids instead of four?”

  “Because Curtis has four groomsmen, and they need to keep it even. Come on, now. You know it wouldn’t look right for him to have more attendants than her, and it would be dead wrong for him to kick one of them out the wedding at the last minute.”

  “Well, why me?” Tempest asked. She and Marquita knew each other through Janessa, but they were never tight like that. “Doesn’t she have anyone else she can ask?”

  “Not anyone else who can fit this dress.” Janessa held the dress up by the hanger to emphasize the point. “All of her other friends wear size twenty and above. They can’t get their asses in this dress, even if we let it out as far as it will go.”

  “Hmph, I might not be able to get in it either. Chiquita has itty-bitty titties. In case you haven’t noticed, mine are about three times bigger.” Tempest grabbed her breasts and held them up. “What am I supposed to do? Let all my stuff hang out?”

  Janessa grinned mischievously. The mere fact that Tempest was making titty comparisons meant she was at least considering it.

  “We’ll work it out.” Janessa stood up and started rummaging through the top drawer of Tempest’s dresser for a needle and thread. “If not for Marquita, do it for me. You know you’re my shero.”

  “Damn,” Tempest muttered under her breath. She got up off the bed and starting taking off the bomb-ass outfit she had on. “I can’t believe this. My first date with Geren, my first date, period, in ages, and I have to look like a cheap hooker.”

  Janessa gave her a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “No, neither one of us are going to look like hookers. We’re going to look fly as all hell, like we always do. Remember this is a first-date situation for me, too.”

  Tempest wanted to make a comment about Dvontè but held it in. He gave her the impression he didn’t care what a woman wore when she went out with him as long as it had easy access to the nana. Geren was different, though—at least, she hoped so.

  Tempest was lost in a trance, wondering what it would be like to go out on a date with Geren, aka Mr. Fine Ass. After all, he did look like the words F-U-C-K M-E spelled out.

  “You want me to do your hair for you, gurl?” Janessa asked, breaking Tempest’s concentration.

  “My hair?” Tempest panicked, almost knocking Janessa down to get to the mirror. After inspecting it and realizing there wasn’t a hair out of place, she confronted Janessa. “My hair’s already done. I spent almost three hours on it this morning after I got home from the bachelorette party. So what are you trying to say?”

  “Nothing,” Janessa responded quickly. “Your hair’s all that and a bag of chips, as usual. I was just trying to show you my appreciation for agreeing to do it. That’s all.”

  “Oh.” Tempest giggled. “In that case, you can come over here every weekend for the next month and clean my crib, wash my laundry, and cook my meals.”

  “Now you must be the one on crack,” Janessa hissed, slapping Tempest gently on the shoulder. “You know the kid doesn’t even clean up after herself, so you know I’m not cleaning up after your ass.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll settle for you just cleaning the toilets.”

  “Oh, hells naw! It’s bad enough I have to deal with Fred’s stankin’ craps. I adore you. I love you. You’re my shero, but—”

  “But what?”

  “But your shit does stink!”

  “And so does yours!” Tempest exclaimed, coming right back at her. “Hell, whenever you stay over, I have to make sure I buy two extra cans of air freshener and air out the joint after you leave.”

  “Whatever, heifer!”

  “Whatever, tramp!”

  “Oh, damn!” Janessa ran into the living room to get her dress. “It’s almost time for them fine-
ass nuccas to get here. We better hurry up.”

  “Yeah,” Tempest said, picking up her own dress. “Hurry up and put on these ugly-ass dresses so we can look like tramps.”

  Janessa came running out of the bathroom when she heard the knock on Tempest’s door. She smoothed out the bottom of her dress and flung the door open, expecting to see both Dvontè and Geren standing there.

  “Good afternoon, Janessa,” Geren said, cracking a smile at her. “You look stunning, as usual.”

  Janessa’s eyes immediately drifted to the beautiful bouquet of white roses in Geren’s hands.

  “Are those for me?” she asked jokingly.

  Geren cleared his throat, wondering if she was serious. “No, actually, these are for Tempest.”

  “Oh,” Janessa replied sarcastically. She peeked around the corner of the door out into the hallway, assuming Dvontè was lurking out there somewhere, waiting for his turn to speak. He was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Dvontè?”

  “He’s down in the car. It’s so hot outside, he thought it would be a good idea to keep the air-conditioning running.”

  “Hmph, I see!”

  Geren hated lying for Dvontè. The truth of the matter was that Dvontè didn’t believe in catering to females by coming to their door. He was the when-I-blow-my-horn-you-need-to-hightail-it-outside type of brotha, while Geren was the complete opposite: a perfect gentleman.

  “We wouldn’t want you ladies to feel uncomfortable or sweat out your hair or anything. The TV stations have been scrolling a heat advisory across the screen all morning. The heat index is close to one hundred fifteen degrees.”

  “Danggggggg, that is hot! No wonder I felt like my insides were boiling when I caught a cab over here.”

  Geren let out a sigh of relief. Janessa apparently bought his explanation.

  “Come on in,” Janessa said, moving to the side so he could come inside. “I forgot my manners for a second.”

  “Thank you.” Geren walked into the entry foyer and glanced down at his watch. They had less than thirty minutes to get to the church on time. “Is Tempest ready?”

  “Almost. I must warn you, though.” Janessa frowned and shook her head. “She’s not a happy camper.”

  “Really?”

  “Word up!”

  Geren immediately started to panic. All week he’d hoped Tempest wouldn’t change her mind. After all, he hadn’t even discussed the date with her, only with Janessa. He hated being dissed, and all of a sudden, he felt a diss coming on.

  Janessa started walking down the hallway toward the kitchen. “I’m going to go find something to put these in. Make yourself at home.”

  “Thanks!”

  Geren walked into the living room and was stunned to see how meticulously clean the place was. Most women he dated left everything from shoes to magazines to clipped toenails strewn all over their living room floors, but not Tempest. He always kept his place clean, too, so things were looking up as far as compatibility. He wondered if the rest of her place was as clean, or if she was one of those who just perpetrated by keeping the highly visible rooms in order.

  He walked over to her leather sectional sofa and lifted up a seat cushion, expecting to find a bunch of food wrappings and hair curlers stuffed underneath it. Nothing. He was bent over to replace the cushion when he felt someone’s eyes on his ass.

  “Hello, Geren.”

  “Hey, Tempest!” He pushed the cushion back into place and turned around to look at her. The first thing he noticed were her breasts about to bust out of the dress she had on. “You look great!”

  “You don’t have to lie.” Tempest rolled her eyes and came farther into the living room.

  “I’m not lying,” Geren replied, hoping the eye rolling didn’t pertain to him messing through her sofa. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

  “Not in this dress, I’m not.” Tempest sat down on the arm of the sofa and put her right hand on her hip. “I look like a hooker.”

  Geren cleared his throat, trying to think of an appropriate response and keep his eyes off her breasts at the same time. He wasn’t an expert on streetwalkers, but she didn’t look like one to him. The dress wasn’t the most tasteful, but it was the same one Janessa had on when she greeted him at the door. Janessa’s boobs were fully covered, though.

  “I didn’t realize both you and Janessa were in the wedding party. Dvontè mentioned that Janessa was, but—”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t realize it either until a couple of hours ago,” Tempest muttered, clucking her tongue in disgust. “Believe me, if I had seen this coming, I would have left town for the weekend.”

  Geren could tell Tempest was really disturbed by the recent turn of events and didn’t know quite what to say, so he fell silent.

  “Janessa’s cousin Chiquita had a freak accident last night, so I’m her last-minute substitute.”

  “I see.” Geren was curious to know what “a freak accident” entailed, and was about to ask when Tempest preempted his question.

  “Where’s Dvontè?” she inquired, an edge of suspicion in her voice.

  “He’s down in the car.”

  “Oh.” He is so trifling, Tempest thought to herself. She wasn’t surprised Dvontè had waited in the car. She knew his type and just hoped Janessa wouldn’t fall for his playa ass too hard.

  Geren debated about whether or not to try to feed Tempest the same fabricated explanation he gave Janessa. He decided against it. “By the way, I bought you some—”

  “Bomb-ass roses!” Janessa exclaimed as she came bouncing back into the room holding a cobalt-blue glass vase with the flowers inside.

  Tempest got up off the arm of the sofa, took the vase, and smelled the fragrant roses. “They’re lovely,” she said, trying to hold back a blush. “Thanks!”

  Geren grinned at her, glad to finally see her mood improving. “You’re more than welcome.”

  Tempest kind of felt bad for Janessa, since she knew Dvontè hadn’t bought her any flowers.

  Janessa seemed to read Tempest’s mind. “Ya’ll ready to bounce, sis?”

  Tempest placed the roses on her glass coffee table and then intertwined her arm with Geren’s. He placed his hand over hers and realized she was trembling slightly. She surely couldn’t have been cold, so an “uh-oh” started running track through his mind.

  The “uh-oh” turned to an “oh-hell-no” when Tempest made her next statement.

  “Janessa, do you mind going on ahead? I’d like to talk to Geren alone for a second.”

  “Cool with me, but don’t take too long.” Janessa smacked her lips, pushed the strap of her small handbag farther up on her shoulder, and headed for the door. “If we’re late, Marquita will throw another hissy fit and start in with that crying madness.”

  “We’ll be right down,” Tempest assured her, pulling away from Geren and practically pushing Janessa out of the door. She closed it behind her and just stood there, staring at the door frame.

  “Is there something wrong, Tempest?”

  “Not exactly.” Tempest turned around to face him. He was so close to her, she could feel his minty-fresh breath on her cheek. “I just feel the need to clarify something.”

  “And what might that be?” Geren asked, with obvious concern in his voice.

  “My appearance,” Tempest blurted out with obvious embarrassment. “Normally, I wouldn’t be caught dead in a get-up like this.”

  Geren fought to suppress a laugh. He thought she was so cute, standing there trying to justify the outfit.

  “I’m the conservative type,” she added. “I realize my breasts are hanging out, but that’s not my fault. This was the best Janessa and I could do in the time frame we had to work with.”

  Geren reached down and retook her hand. “Tempest, don’t worry your pretty little head over it. I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that you were conservative, as you put it.”

  Tempest sighed in relief. “So you understand where I’m coming from, then?”


  “Absolutely!” Geren had to catch himself and clear his head; he was about to salivate over her hardened nipples. He could make them out through the material of the form-fitting dress. He forced himself to look in her eyes and ignore her breasts. “I’m just glad that’s all you wanted to talk to me about. It’s no big deal.”

  “Well, it’s a very big deal to me.”

  Geren had to let the laugh out. She was really trippin’ over the dress. Her humility intrigued him.

  Tempest yanked her hand away and headed back into the living room. “See, you’re laughing at me.”

  “No, I’m not,” Geren insisted, trailing her. “I’m simply relieved. For a minute, I thought you were going to back out of our date and tell me to beat it. Since I didn’t have the liberty of actually calling you to confirm, I’ve been on pins and needles all week. Janessa set this up, but I thought surely you would call at some point to finalize things. When I didn’t hear from you, I got nervous.”

  “Geren, I have to be honest. I’m a bit reluctant to go back out on the dating scene. We had a wonderful time at the club last week. I usually hate clubs but you helped me relax and enjoy myself.”

  Geren raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yes, but I’ve been dragged through the mud by so many men that I trusted. It makes me wonder how many times a mouse has to get caught on a glue pad before it realizes it needs to walk around it.”

  Geren claimed Tempest’s hand for yet a third time and kissed her gently on her knuckles. He knew there was no use in trying to explain that he was different. In time, he would just have to prove it to her.

  Tempest felt her cheeks become flushed. “With that said, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “Really?” Geren asked, kissing her hand again with tender, full lips.

  “Yes. I had certain reservations at first. Mainly, I wondered if you were only doing this so Dvontè and Janessa could still hook up.”

  Geren pulled her to him and boldly put his arm around her waist. He gazed deeply into her eyes. “I’ll put it this way. If we didn’t have plans for today and you didn’t use my number, I would have waited about a month, maybe not even that long, before I tracked you down.”