Preview (Chapter Five)

Tyler stood outside Jazzed, penned in behind a velvet rope with the other waiting singles, feeling decidedly foolish.  “Why did I let Joyce talk me into this?” she murmured to herself for the hundredth time.  Two well-dressed, handsome men walked toward the back of the line eying the women and flashing smiles.
     Tyler snorted disgustedly as she smoothed her skirt.  She and Joyce had spent nearly two hours at her apartment trying to decide what she should wear.  Tyler turned down most of her friend’s suggestions, since Joyce’s fashion motto was: “The shorter, the better.”  They finally decided on a dark brown dress that complimented Tyler’s cocoa complexion. The dress sported a modest neckline and a split that reached mid thigh.
     She glanced around a set of broad shoulders to see if she could catch a glimpse of Joyce, who had left her as soon as they arrived and went up the line delivering kisses and praises on attire to familiar faces.
     “Tyler!”  Joyce called out, waving her hand and gesturing her forward.  She stood at the front of the line, her arm intertwined with the arm of a huge bouncer.
     “Oh no,” Tyler groaned.  Joyce had a habit of “knowing” people and skipping lines.  She always seemed oblivious to the rolling of eyes and sucking of teeth, and Tyler was left to make apologies as she reluctantly followed in her wake.  Tyler pulled her purse protectively in front of her and began to inch her way to the front.
     “Excuse me. Sorry. Pardon,” Tyler said as she pushed forward.
     “Oh no she didn’t,” a female voice called out.
     “Oh yes she did, girl,” another female voice assured her.
     Tyler finally disengaged herself from the line and stalked up to Joyce.
      “Girl, I’m going to k-”
     “Hurry up!”   Joyce said excitedly.  “They’re playing my song!”  She patted the bouncer affectionately on the arm.  He smiled at her, whispered something in her ear and opened the door for them.  Joyce hustled Tyler inside and squealed with delight as they were enveloped by the sultry sounds of George Benson.

     Steven sipped his Rum and Coke and nodded his head in time with the music.  He felt himself already unwinding from the rigors of the day.  Marvin sat in his usual chair at the center of the bar, where he could check out the “action.”  His friend had already collected several numbers but had not made his “selection” for the night, as he referred to the woman he would take home.
     “Music is good,” Marvin commented.  Steven nodded in agreement.  If Marvin didn’t like the band, he made sure everyone, including the owner, knew it.
     Marvin nudged him and waggled his eyebrows at two ladies approaching the bar.  Steven looked at the women in question.  The one in the brown dress he dismissed instantly.  He preferred his women slimmer, of lighter complexion, and definitely devoid of dread locks.  The second was more his type: slim, long hair, and donned in a tight fitting black dress that accentuated her attributes nicely.  Marvin arched his eyebrow and Steven shrugged, indicating that his friend should go ahead.  The night was young and he usually liked women to approach him.  It gave him a tactical advantage.
   “Ladies, good evening,” Marvin said, sliding smoothly from his stool.  The place was beginning to fill up and all the seats at the bar were taken. “My name is Marvin Bradshaw.  Please, take my seat,” he offered, his eyes on the woman in the black dress.
   She smiled charmingly at him and extended her hand.  “Thank you.  I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all.  I’m Joyce and this is my friend Tyler.”  Marvin kissed both ladies’ hands and offered to buy them a drink.
     “I’ll have a Vodka Tonic,” Joyce said, sliding onto the stool.  All eyes turned toward Tyler, who did not look pleased.
     “Nothing for me, thank you,” she said coolly.
     Marvin turned toward Steven and motioned slightly with his head.  Steven sighed inwardly, but stood up.
     “Please, Tyler, take my seat,” he offered, flashing a winning smile.
     “Thank you,” she said, barely looking at him and taking the seat next to her friend, who was already immersed in conversation with Marvin.  Steven frowned slightly at her lack of response to his perfunctory charm, but decided it was of little consequence.  She wasn’t his type anyway.  He sipped his drink and leaned against the bar.
     Tyler tried to calm herself as Joyce giggled at some joke Marvin made.  She should have known better than to think that she and her friend could have a pleasant evening out that didn’t involve Joyce completely ignoring her for the first handsome face she saw.  She took a deep breath.  At least the music was good.  She glanced at the tall man leaning against the bar.  He was good looking but definitely not her type.  He looked like the Mr. Perfect type who spent more time in the bathroom mirror than she did.  She preferred men who were a lot more relaxed and casual.  And that phony smile of his only served to annoy her further.
     “Steven Jefferson,” a deep voice said above her head.  She glanced up into the hazel eyes of the man who had offered her his seat.  She swiveled slightly toward him so as not to seem rude.
     “Nice to meet you,” she said disinterestedly.  She really didn’t feel like holding a conversation with a man she barely knew.  She glanced at Joyce who was in full flirt mode and realized it would be a while before she disengaged herself.  Maybe she was judging him on appearances only.  Perhaps he wasn’t the Mr. Perfect-forty minutes in the bathroom mirror type that she thought he was.
     Steven had decided to introduce himself to her out of pity.  Her friend was obviously otherwise engaged and she didn’t seem to be having a good time.  He hadn’t seen anyone who had particularly attracted his attention, so he had magnanimously decided to wile away the time by holding a conversation.  However, he was less than pleased with her disinterested, “nice to meet you.”  Who did she think she was anyway?  It wasn’t like they were lining up at the bar to ask her to dance.  He snorted and was just about to walk away when she turned toward him and said, “So what do you do?”  He looked into her dark brown eyes.  Her gaze was extremely direct and for some reason he was caught off guard.
    “I own an architectural design firm.  Jefferson Designs.”
     Tyler arched her eyebrow.  “An entrepreneur.  I’m impressed,” she said, giving the first genuine smile of the evening.  She didn’t think enough African Americans took the plunge to start their own businesses.  Economic empowerment for her people was a passion of hers and she had invited several guest speakers to come and to encourage and teach the women at Safe Haven how to explore their talents and perhaps start their own home-based businesses one day.
     Steven and Tyler were soon immersed in an in-depth conversation that ranged from the impact that slavery had on the African American community today to the importance of black-owned businesses and economic empowerment for blacks in America.