Talisa’s hair swayed from side to side as she shook her head. She reached to hug her father and then her mother. “I love you both so much.”
“Well, don’t just stand there,” her mother admonished, the smile returning to her face. “Get dressed. I gots to go to the store and I want to ride in that nice new car.”
Talisa pulled her new car into the parking lot of the Crowne Plaza Atlanta hotel, Mya Taft, one of her closest friends, riding shotgun beside her. The two women were laughing heartily as they exited the vehicle, one just as excited as the other.
“I plan to bid on every tall, Mandingo brother with big feet and an even bigger bankbook,” Mya said as they made their way toward the front of the building.
Talisa laughed. “Why does he have to be big?”
“Small men make me nervous. I want a man who eats well, eats often, and isn’t afraid to give me a taste when the moment moves me. And you know if his feet are large, then the rest of him won’t be a disappointment.”
“You are a sick woman,” Talisa said with a chuckle as the two women gave each other a high five.
“Where’d you get that dress?” Mya asked as Talisa removed her jacket, admiring the turquoise, floral-printed, silk sundress her friend wore. “’Cause that dress is wearing you, girl!” she exclaimed.
“The new Bloomingdale’s in Lenox Square.”
“I never find anything at that store. You make me sick.”
“Like you don’t look good in that size-two slip you have on.”
Mya laughed, doing a fashion model strut and spin in the middle of the hotel lobby, flipping the jacket she’d just removed over her shoulder. “Okay. I do look good, don’t I?”
Talisa clasped her arm through the other woman’s. “We both look good. Now let’s just hope these men tonight are worth all the trouble.”
As the duo entered the ballroom, stopping first to register at the reception table, they were instantly in awe of the elaborate decorations. Playing with a New Orleans masked ball theme, the decorating committee had outdone themselves. The décor was exotic and sensual. The tables were dressed in white linens with gold and black accented table runners. A large runway had been built room center, the massive structure skirted in a coordinating harlequin print, and miniature white lights sparkled against the high ceilings. With registration, each attendee was given an updated auction catalog and an exquisite Venetian mask on a scrolled wooden handle. An assigned number adorned the back of the mask to be used as the bidding paddle. The gathering of women, varying in shades and sizes, was duly impressed.
Talisa and Mya rushed to their table, greeting the rest of their party who sat waiting for them.
“What took you two so long?” Benita Rivers asked, rising from her seat to give them each a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. Her café au lait complexion was flushed with color that highlighted her reddish-brown afro.
“We were beginning to think your old butt wasn’t coming,” Leila Brimmer added, gesturing for them to take a seat.
“Who are you calling old?” Talisa said as she settled herself comfortably against the cushioned seat.
“I’m calling you old,” her best friend responded teasingly. “Happy birthday, woman!” Leila twirled one of her ebony curls around her index finger. Laugh lines pulled at her thin face, her mahogany complexion shining with glee.
Talisa grinned. “Thank you. And I’m not old. I’m just aging nicely. Like fine wine.”
“Like she can talk,” Benita interjected. “Who turned twenty-five last month?”
“I’m still twenty-one and I’ll deny anything else,” the other woman laughed.
Benita rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Just like you’re still a virgin.”
The women laughed again. Talisa’s gaze scanned the perimeter of the room, noting the landscape of primped and perfumed women, each dressed to the nines, hair and nails meticulous. “What did we miss?” she asked, taking a mental note of the elderly piano player who sat in the left corner, his fingers skating easily over the piano keys.
Leila shook her head. “Not much. I picked up our tickets for the champagne reception in the VIP suite. We’ll get to mingle with the bachelors before this thing gets started. Spend some quality one-on-one time as we decide which ones will be our future husbands.”
“We should be so lucky,” Mya responded as she peered into a compact mirror pulled from her purse.
Talisa shook her head. “How’d you swing tickets for the reception? I heard it was by invitation only.”
Leila shrugged. “The only invitation we needed was the required five-hundred-dollar donation for the tickets.”
Talisa spun around in her seat, her mouth falling open in shock. “Five hundred dollars? You spent five hundred dollars for reception tickets?”
Leila laughed. “No. I spent two thousand dollars for reception tickets. We needed four of them,” she said, pointing to each of them in turn. “I told you we were going to celebrate your birthday in high style.”
“You’ve lost your mind,” Talisa exclaimed. “I can’t believe you!”
Her friend laughed again. “Well, let’s head on up so you can believe me.”
Mya patted at her lipstick. “I hope you don’t expect me to pay you back, Leila. You know I’m broke. I don’t have a high-powered lawyer’s job like you do.”
Leila rolled her eyes. “It’s a gift, Mya. A gift for all of us. Just make it worth my investment and find yourself a man. Please, do us all that favor.”
Talisa laughed. “I declare! For five hundred dollars, they should give us a private reception, an engagement ring, and the two point three kids with a dog.”
“Please, don’t act poor when we get upstairs, Talisa,” Mya admonished. “Just pretend we at least know what money is.”
“You mean just pretend we have money we don’t,” Talisa said, her head waving from side to side.
“It’s all tax-deductible and I need as many deductions as I can get,” Leila said. “Besides, we’re here to support the cause, remember?”
“I’m here to catch me a rich husband.” Mya laughed. “You can be here for any reason you want.”
Crossing through the lobby, the four women made their way to the elevators on the south side of the building, pushing the button to the upper-level suite reserved for the occasion. Excitement filled the space around them as they traveled the quick distance from one floor to another. Talisa smiled warmly at the three women who stood beside her.
She and Leila had been best friends since kindergarten, when Talisa broke the red crayon in her Crayola box and Leila had offered her own in replacement. They’d been inseparable after that, even following each other to Georgia Tech when they graduated high school. Mya had joined the duo when they’d been in the fourth grade. They’d met her in church two weeks after her parents and twin brothers had moved from Baltimore to Atlanta. Mya had captivated them with her vocal cords, bellowing big hymns out of her tiny body that had made them all stop and take notice. She’d also been the more daring of the trio, enticing them to get into more trouble than any one of them cared to remember. Benita had been Mya’s college roommate, evening out their threesome as they’d moved into adulthood.
Leila had graduated college a year early, moving right on to Harvard Law School for her law degree. It had been the first time she and Talisa had been apart, the telephone and e-mail the lifeline between them. Talisa had marveled at her friend’s dedication and commitment to her career, still having no idea what she wanted to do with her