Chapter 4

      What was wrong with women these days? Marshall wondered as he stretched out on the king-size bed in his hotel room, completely alone. He had high hopes of meeting up with a fine sistah and spending about twelve hours of quality time with her. But he’d been knocked off his game and didn’t have the energy to pursue another woman.

      First Veronica busts up the ceramic lamp Danetta bought him for Christmas, then the crazy woman keyed his car just because he was okay with her breaking up with him. What was he supposed to do, cry over her...call and beg her for another chance?

      Then this woman whose name he couldn’t even remember hauls off and slaps him just because he hadn’t bothered to call her after they’d spent one night together. Who does that? I mean, come on. If a woman slips up and sleeps with a man the first day they meet, does that woman really believe that any man in his right mind is about to rush home and call her? Marshall considered himself to be a polite man whose mama raised him right. So, he was sure that he thanked ol’ what’s-her-name before she left his hotel room. “Abalit, balit, that’s all folks.”

      He was no different from any other full-grown, unattached man. He liked the ladies but he liked to keep things free and loose—he wasn’t a puppet, so he made sure that no strings were attached to him. As long as everyone was having a good time all was fine. What he couldn’t deal with was the keying cars and slapping-brothers-in-public type of women.

      He put his hands behind his head as he mused that maybe he’d slipped up on his application process with those two, or maybe the game was just growing old. After all, he was thirty-two years old and his mother had started throwing hints about grandchildren. Maybe it was time for him to settle down. He just needed to find one woman and make it happen. In truth, Marshall had dated hundreds of women, but not one of them came to mind when he thought of the woman he’d like to have a few babies with.

      * * *

      Danetta and Ryla spent the rest of the day looking for clothes that didn’t make her look, as Ryla said, like “a tired old granny.”

      “If you want a man to be interested, you need to let him see what you’re working with,” Ryla said as she put back a dress that Danetta thought was perfect.

      “What’s wrong with that dress?” She pointed at the shapeless cloth hanging on the hanger.

      “It’s too long and it billows out at the waistline,” Ryla criticized. “Need I say more?”

      As if a lightbulb finally came on, Danetta smiled, saying, “No one would be able to see my curves in that dress.”

      “Exactly. Now this little number is designed get a man’s attention in a hurry.” Ryla lifted a black nightclub dress off the rack. The fabric was stretchy and designed to be formfitting so it would show off every curve. The quarter-length sleeves and one side of the hem had been slashed so many times, the dress could have been made by Freddy Krueger.

      Danetta’s eyes widened as she said, “Ryla Evans, if you don’t put that dress back, I’m ending this shopping trip right now.”

      Laughing, Ryla put the dress back on the rack. “Hey, I was just trying to see how desperate for a man you really are.”

      “Would you wear something like that?”

      “Not in this life,” Ryla admitted.

      “Then why on earth would you think I would go anywhere in a dress like that? It’s way too revealing.”

      “You’re the one looking for a man,” Ryla joked. “The last thing on my mind is some knuckleheaded man, so I don’t have to worry about dressing to impress.”

      “Ryla, everything you wear is stylish. And whether you know it or not, you attract men to you all day long. Why do you think I asked for your help?”

      Ryla put her finger to her chin as she took a moment to think. “Okay, then I’m going to take you to Galleria Mall. My mom and I shop there every time she comes to Houston. You’ll love it.”

      They drove over to Galleria Mall and Danetta got excited when she found a two hundred and fifty dollar Donna Karan dress that had been marked down to fifty dollars. The dress enhanced her curves, but did not make her look like a stripper. She rarely found deals at the Galleria, so she snatched that dress up real quick. Then they went to Stein Mart, and Danetta found several other outfits. When she was tired of shopping for clothes, Ryla told her that they needed to make one more stop.

      As they stood in front of the cosmetic counter, Danetta thought about changing her mind. She thought that if she needed to change that much just to get a man, then maybe she was okay being alone for the rest of her life. Just then a woman pushing a baby stroller walked past her. Danetta looked inside the stroller and watched the baby cooing as she lifted her chubby little legs in the air. That was all it took. She felt like she didn’t have very many baby-making years left, so she wasn’t going to waste her time complaining about a little makeup if that’s what it took to attract her husband.

      Danetta’s face held no blemishes whatsoever, which was one of the reasons that she’d never bothered with foundation. So she asked the makeup artist, “Do I really need foundation if I don’t have any freckles or blemishes to cover up?”

      The woman smiled. “Foundation serves as a base for all the other makeup that we will put on your face, it helps to smooth everything out. And you are correct that you don’t need a heavy foundation. But we have a light coverage that will work for your face. Would you like to try it?”

      “Yes, she would,” Ryla responded before Danetta could answer. “The foundation she needs should have a natural finish with golden/olive undertones.” Ryla spoke as if she’d worked as a makeup artist herself.

      The correct shade of foundation was applied to Danetta’s honey-toned skin. Then came the eye shadow, blush and a pinky-brown lip gloss. All the things that Danetta felt were so unnecessary for daily living. However, when the makeup was applied, and Danetta held the mirror and looked at her reflection, she was stunned at the vision she saw. “I-I look beautiful!”

      “If Marshall Windham could see you now, he’d turn in his playa card and become a do-right man,” Ryla said, with a knowing glint in her eye.

      “Don’t kid yourself. Marshall has seen me dressed for awards banquets and business dinners. The man wants nothing from me but friendship.”

      “He hasn’t seen you like this, Danetta. No one has.” Ryla took her digital camera out of her purse and snapped a few shots. “Don’t get the big head, but girl, you clean up real good.”

      Danetta felt herself