The Last King by Nichelle D. Tramble

Author:Nichelle D. Tramble [Tramble, Nichelle D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-53659-4
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2004-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

Colonial was a twenty-four-hour shop that trafficked in large doughnuts and big, cheap, steaming cups of coffee. Yolanda was at a table near the front window, flipping through an address book. White thank-you cards were stacked in boxes on a chair. Yolanda's ghetto-fabulous body was famous all over the Bay Area but she looked to be about a week shy of becoming a mother. Her belly pressed against the edge of the table, and her fingers were swollen as she wrote out her messages. The old Yolanda was still present in her jeweled fingernails and the colored beads sprinkled into her hair.

“Hey, girl.” I tapped the table to get her attention.

“Maceo! Oh my god, what happened to your face?” She made like she was going to stand, but I waved her down.

“Don't get up.” I hesitated, then leaned in to kiss her forehead. She didn't flinch, and I figured she didn't know about my fight with Emmet.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to get some coffee.”

“And you just happened to find me?” She raised an eyebrow.

“No, I heard you opened a salon so I went by to see for myself.”

She beamed. “You saw the whole place?”

“Saw what I could. Rhonda wanted fingerprints and a blood sample.”

“Miss Rhonda takes her job very seriously She wouldn't let my mama in last week.” Her smile was weak though she tried to keep the tone friendly

“She one of your partners?”

“I don't believe in partners. She's an employee.” Yolanda's baby-girl voice contradicted the steel in her eyes.

“How are you?”

“I'm fine. And you? What happened to your face?”

“Nothing.”

She studied me for a minute and moved on. “So, why you come to see me? Felicia with you?”

“I haven't seen Felicia in two years.”

“Really? Everybody just figured ya'll left together.”

“Felicia's been a ghost since I left.”

“That's too bad. I mean, you loved her so hard, I hoped you'd get her in the end.”

“Worse things have happened. Speaking of which, you talk to your husband about me?”

“About you? Why?”

“We got into an altercation last night, out at Cotton's house.”

“So that's where he was.” Her smile dropped away and I knew I'd guessed correctly about her ambition. The couple that used to be joined at the hip didn't appear to be anymore.

“Emmet,” her voice caught in her throat, “Emmet's changed. He …” I remembered the smoke signals around his mouth and stopped her.

“You don't have to tell me.” I squeezed her hand. “I didn't come here to upset you. You want a muffin, some warm milk, or something?”

“No, I'm fine.” She tried to recover. “And when I'm in a doughnut shop I eat doughnuts, the big pink ones with sprinkles.”

“Can I treat you?”

“No, I'm fine. What do you need?”

“Gossip. Details. I figured since you own the hottest salon in town you'd know what was going on around the city What people are saying.”

“About Cotton?”

I nodded. “I think Holly might be caught up in this.”

“Did you see his picture in the paper, next to the girl?”

“You know anything about her?”

“Just that she was a Nightingale, but everybody knows that.

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