The Ugly Girlfriend(2)

Minutes later, Byron strode confidently to their booth with his friend in tow. They smiled like Cheshire cats, eyeing the women who quietly cooed after them.



“Good evening, Ladies,” Bryon greeted over the music while looking at LaToya. His bright brown eyes sparkled with mischief. He knew that he was a catch. And so did they.



Byron was the normal Ebony Man of the Year. Tall. Dark. Homicidally handsome. Educated. Successful. His list went on and on.



His chiseled jaw clenched tight as he looked over his pickings. With one hand in his jean pocket and the left hand out to show them that he was not married, he stood like a runway model awaiting one of the women to fall before him like a human offering. LaToya bet that Deana would be first.



They all blushed and said hello in unison, all accept LaToya. Was it possible that he was actually coming over to say something to her? He hadn’t taken his gaze off her since he walked up.



She bit her bottom lip and waited. A shiver raced up her spine and caused goose bumps to form on her bare arms.



“LaToya, I’d like to introduce you to Mitch. He’s a colleague of mine,” Byron said, putting his hand on the attractive white man’s shoulder. He looked at his friend with pride.



“Hi, Mitch,” LaToya said blushing.



“Hello, LaToya, it’s nice to meet you,” Mitch said with a thick accent.



Great. Two hotties, she thought to herself.



Mitch was breathtaking as well. His green eyes sparkled but not with the same mischief as Byron’s. There was something else looming in his unwavering gaze. His tanned face was framed by dark curly locks with a few streaks of distinguished gray, heavy arched eyebrows, light sprinkles of freckles across his straight nose and a clever charm that radiated from his bright smile. His wide, full lips were curved into a kiss above a dimpled chin. But in all of his undeniable outward beauty, could it be that he was shy?



She found that normal. White men tended to be tighter-lipped around black women here. And that was probably smart. The women at this table were like vultures.



Chuckling under her breath at the thought, she inadvertently made eye contact with him.



He smiled back as if understanding her sudden amusement. This time his look was different. Curious.



LaToya was speechless, and so were the rest of the girls.



So, did this man want to talk to LaToya? Had she finally landed one?



Byron’s voice boomed, “I was just telling Mitch what a hell of a job you’ve done with my place, LaToya. You see, even though he’s a great architect, he’s one lousy house keeper. So, I was wondering if you might...consider taking him on as a new client?”



“Yes, I really need some help,” Mitch said, fishing out his wallet. He pulled out his crisp, white business card and passed it to her.



All the women melted over his accent. Irish? Scottish?



Bryon picked up on the unspoken question. “Mitch originally hails from Dublin, hence the horrible accent. He just moved here about a year ago from our New York office, and he still hasn’t gotten into the Arizona swing of things.”



“Living here takes some getting used to.” LaToya took the card and looked at it blankly. Why did she get her hopes up anymore? She would have been thrilled to have Bryon interested in more than just her cleaning services, but she would have settled for the white boy just to save face.



LaToya’s friends looked down, embarrassed for her. They all thought that she had finally found a prospect for the bed; instead, she’d just picked up a possible prospect for her business. It was somewhat comical in a way. History continued to repeat itself for the poor girl.



“Okay, Mitch,” she said, trying to hide her sudden disgust. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” She looked back up at him and sighed. Pain pulled at the sides of her nearly quivering mouth.



“Sounds wonderful. I actually have guests coming soon. So, I’ll pay extra if you can fit me in ASAP,” Mitch said eagerly.



LaToya smiled and put the business card in the pocket of her purse. She was relieved when Angela suddenly returned from the dance floor on cue, sweaty and drunk. Still laughing, she nearly fell over the men when she tried to sit down.



Bryon turned to Angela with a different look. His smile was much bigger now. Evidently, he had found his prize. Catching her in his strong grip as she nearly fell into him, he laughed.



“Are you okay?” he asked, touching her a little more than he had to.



“Great...now,” Angela answered. She looked up into his eyes and swallowed hard. A suggestive look passed between the two. Sparks flew and suddenly the rest of the group was dim.