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Overview
"Contemporary fans will enjoy this humorous tale." - Midwest Book Review
Donneeka LeBeau is a smart, beautiful, and intelligent woman. An executive at the high-profile Diva Four Cosmetics company, Donneeka certainly does not need a matchmaker, especially if that matchmaker is her mother! However, Adeena LeBeau is used to getting what she wants. And right now, she wants to set her daughter up with the perfect man. That's Braxton Dupree, the most eligible bachelor in town. Even though Donneeka tries her hardest to ignore Braxton's advances, she can't help but fall in love. Not wanting to let her mother win at the matchmaking game, Donneeka keeps her affair with Braxton a secret. This isn't easy, especially with Donneeka's hilariously meddlesome sisters around!
However, when the ultimate player decides that he wants commitment too, Donneeka must face up to her mother and admit that sometimes lovin' from a great man really is as good as it gets.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781429941877 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | St. Martin's Publishing Group |
| Publication date: | 04/01/2005 |
| Sold by: | Macmillan |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 304 |
| File size: | 316 KB |
About the Author
Debra Phillips lives in Los Angeles, California. She is the author of The High Price of a Good Man.
Debra Phillips lives in Los Angeles, California. She is the author of The High Price of a Good Man and Too Much Drama.
Read an Excerpt
Too much Drama
By Debra Phillips
St. Martin's Press
Copyright © 2005 Debra PhillipsAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4299-4187-7
CHAPTER 1
Stepping out from her steamy shower, Donneeka Lebeau wiped a spot in the bathroom's mirror and took a good look at herself. Smiling, she liked what she saw. Granted, she probably wouldn't be winning any beauty contests. But on the other hand, she could see herself as a runner-up. Looks like all those trips to the gym are paying off, she thought, patting the flat plane of her stomach.
She had her mother's eyes. Large and expressive. Big legs. A tight body. But if it were left up to her, her rear end, the same one her male cousins had always referred to as her "junk in the trunk," could stand to be a tad smaller. On the flip side, she mused, nothing's wrong with a big behind if a woman knows what to do with it. Which was all the reason why she should have been the dancer she was meant to be.
"That's right, girl. Shake your moneymaker." Feeling wild and free, she slapped the wetness along her hip. A dance beat started in her head. To help it along, Neeka pushed the Play button on her boom box and caught the upbeat rhythm as she rocked her slender hips. Snatching a plush towel from the rack behind her, she lip-synched the words to "Who Let the Dogs Out." Then she secured the towel at her bosom so she could really get into the music.
"That's what I'm talking about. Roll it, and twirl it, and tootsie and roll it." She let her knees bend slightly, putting all her emotion into a raunchy-looking tootsie roll that would make the Soul Train dancers she watched on Saturday mornings look like hallelujah-happy choir-girls. If she were a real exotic dancer, the tootsie roll would be her specialty because no one she knew could work a roll like she could. That same dance had gotten her seven-year-old cousin three weeks of hard punishment when her mother had glimpsed her showing Neeka how to do it at a family dinner. According to her mother, "Only hookers and street tramps dance like that!" Well, too bad, because now it's my favorite exercise routine. So there, Mama. Deal with that! And check this out, Mama. Watch me roll it and twirl it and roll it.
Neeka felt an odd shiver zip up her backside, but she was too into her dance routine to stop. The music was doing its best to keep her locked in its groove, but the minute she turned around and opened her eyes, her damp pelvis still gyrating to the loud music, she was staring into a familiar pair of disapproving eyes.
"And roll it, and twirl it, and —" The beat in her head screeched to a halt. The last two words of the lyrics were caught for a second, then released: "And mama?"
"Goodness, Neeka, what on earth are you doing?" Adeena regarded her with a stern face.
"Dancing — I mean exercising — I mean dancercising." It wasn't just the shock that her mother had caught her doing the forbidden dance of street tramps, but once again her mother had used her key to enter Neeka's house.
"Mama, what are you doing here?"
"Need you ask?" Adeena challenged. Her eyes became slits. "You would think that a woman who spent twenty-two hours in labor with you would always be welcome in your home."
"Mama, you are." A little voice in her head said to let it go, but she couldn't. "Being a welcomed guest is one thing, but you can't just barge up into my place anytime you feel like it!" Suddenly Neeka realized her mother was not alone. Standing behind her, peeking over her mother's stiff shoulders, was a man. A smiling man. There was something oddly familiar about him, but not enough to warrant an unexpected visit on her day off.
Embarrassed, Neeka clutched her large towel tighter and cleared her suddenly dry throat. "Mama, this so wrong! I thought we agreed that you would use your key only in case of an emergency." She fought back angry tears.
"Looks like I came just in time because it appears you're having an emergency right now." Sniffing, her mother's eyes widened as she scanned her daughter from head to toe. "Isn't it a little early in the morning for rump shaking and stripteasing? Lord only knows where you pick this stuff up." Turning up her nose, Adeena added, "And for heaven's sake, Neeka, turn that god-awful music off and make yourself decent. We have company."
We? A bell in Neeka's head ended round one. "Excuse me a minute." Closing the door to the bathroom, Neeka slipped into her white terry robe and returned for what she felt would be round two. "Mama, this isn't fair. It's Saturday, my day off. My whole day is planned, and I'm not in the mood for company right now."
Adeena fanned her face. "Everyone is busy, dear. I know I am. But you need to turn the music down a bit. I'm surprised your sisters next door haven't called city ordinance out. And why is it so hot and stuffy in here? Let's open a window."
As usual her mother was overdressed in one of her many velvet leisure suits. This particular one was the color of dark avocados. An expensive gold chain sparkled from her regal neck. "If I had known you would be dropping by unannounced — again — I would have been prepared." Like been away on a weekend cruise. "Next time, Mama, I'd appreciate a call first. I mean, if this is my home, you can't just pop up anytime you feel like it." There. She'd said it. She felt better, even if she knew it wouldn't do any good.
"One can if one pays the mortgage," Adeena gleefully responded after opening the living room blinds and a window. "But that's a subject for later, dear. I have a wonderful surprise. You won't believe who I ran into a few months back. Are you going to make yourself decent or what?"
Oh, Lord. This woman is like the Energizer Bunny. She never stops. Neeka fumbled with the robe's thick belt. "Mama, this is really not a good time. Can't you share your little surprise another time?" Not that she was some five-year-old following her mommy's command, but she couldn't hear herself think with the music so loud. The dogs would have to go back in. She darted back into the bathroom to turn down the music. Then she coughed. "And I think I'm coming down with the flu or something."
Adeena removed her sunglasses. "Probably so, dear, but I like right now better. Besides, I've had my flu shot. And I have some plans for later myself. I had to come right over because I wanted you to be the first." She fanned her face. "And I would hardly call my surprise little."
"The first?" What the heck is she talking about now? The man, from what Neeka could see, had made himself comfortable on her sofa. He kept straining to peer around Adeena. If he craned his neck out any farther, the thing would surely break and spill his fool head onto her tiled floor. And those eyes. Where did she know those eyes from?
"Mama, I have to leave in fifteen minutes." Out of habit Neeka glanced at her wristwatch, only to be reminded that she didn't have one on. Dang it. She resisted the urge to snatch back her door key from her mother's hand while it still dangled in her sight. That should teach her to stop barging in. But that would be pointless. Knowing her mother, Neeka figured the woman probably had a drawer full of copies of her key by now.
"Don't worry, sweetie. All is well." Adeena made a wry face before pushing past her through the narrow hallway. "Excuse me, dear, but I simply must use your powder room."
"You mean the restroom," Neeka corrected, but only because she knew that her mother hated when she did so. The sound of her mother's clicking heels on tile echoed away from her.
Back to that fool staring at her. Not bad-looking though. Not bad at all. The man was obviously removing her robe with his eyes. Her mother sure knew how to pick her men.
"Excuse me one minute," Neeka said, clutching the top of her robe tighter. "Would you care for some coffee or some tea?"
"You really don't remember me, do you?" Smiling ear-to-ear, the man stood and moved over to where she stood. Holding out a hand, he eased it back slowly when Neeka wouldn't take it. "Braxton. Remember? Braxton Dupree."
"Dupree? No, I'm afraid not. Is that the name of some new hip-hop coffee or tea? Because if it is, sorry, I'm afraid I'm fresh out." Small humor, but she could tell that he wasn't impressed one bit, and she certainly didn't recall asking him what his name was. Umph.
"Think hard now. It'll come to you:"
Pompous. Just like Mama likes 'em. Must be a new member of the club. She stared, hoping to recollect. Tall. Handsome. The dark blue Dockers, dark knit shirt, and black leather jacket he wore gave a ruggedness to his looks. His moustache was thin and shaped to perfection. The strong jawline and facial features were like those of so many good-looking men she'd seen. "Nope. Not one clue." Still, there was something about those eyes. It wasn't easy to forget light brown crystals on a man. She blew out an irritated breath. "I give up. Refresh my memory."
"Remember Compton? The blue house two doors down on Halo Street? The boy that kept a frog in a box?"
Neeka's eyes lit up. "Oh, my goodness! You're the one who kept a bug hospital and handed out candy with frog juice on it for Halloween? Yuck Boy?"
Braxton looked sheepish. "It wasn't really frog juice. Green Jell-O and lime juice. And I haven't been called Yuck Boy in ages."
"I can't believe it! You always wore those dusty-looking clothes and were forever chasing girls through the neighborhood with some weird-looking bug in hand. I remember now."
"Me in the flesh." Braxton shifted the subject. "But enough about that. You certainly have blossomed into a lovely young lady. But that's no surprise."
"Thank you." No wonder the name didn't ring a bell at first. The four years she'd lived two doors down from him she'd known him by the nickname the neighborhood kids called him. And that name wasn't Braxton. By the time her teen years hit, her mother had made enough money to move them into a better neighborhood. For years Neeka made attempts to keep in touch with her old friends. Girls talked. The last she had heard, Braxton was dating two of her old friends and trying to hook up with another. She should have known he'd end up a gigolo-player. "What about that crazy brother of yours? What was his name? Dummy?"
"Quamee."
"Yes, of course." Neeka moved closer for a customary hug. It was all coming back to her. He had been touted as a good-looker even back then, and Neeka recalled that many squabbles between her friends had been over the playful attention of one Braxton Dupree. Three years younger, she couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen the last time she saw him. The same coal black, wavy hair. The same flawless complexion. What had once been boyish good looks was now aged handsome in a ripe package. "It's really good to see you again." She was still shaking his hand and smiling ear-to-ear when the sound of Adeena's voice reminded her she wasn't supposed to be happy about their unexpected visit.
"I see you two have done some catching up. Wonderful," Adeena said as she headed straight to the kitchen, while Braxton took the liberty of taking a seat again. "Sweetie, you have anything to snack on in this place? I'm a bit famished. Anything low-carb in your refrigerator? Some coffee would be nice."
"Excuse me while I change into something more decent," Neeka said, ignoring Adeena's inquiry. She clutched her robe shut as she hurried up the stairway into her spacious bedroom and opened the closet door to search for something simple to put on.
The nerve of her mother, she thought, throwing off her robe and sliding into the black spandex pants she normally wore to the gym. What's the point in having phones if you can't call first? She located one of her white workout T-shirts and slipped on some black ankle socks.
"Mama, I'll be down in five minutes!" she called out. Outside her window the October morning beckoned. Neeka stood gazing for a few seconds. She could try climbing out. But the thought of breaking a limb or two was a turnoff.
Doing her best to put on a pleasant facade, Neeka trudged back down the stairs to her living room. "I'm supposed to be going to the gym with Mercy around twelve."
"That's nice, sweetie, but there will be plenty of days for body toning," her mother replied between sips of bottled water. She stopped to scrutinize Neeka's attire with obvious disapproval. "Oh, sweetie, why didn't you wear one of your nice dresses? They make you look sophisticated."
Ignoring her mother's comment, Neeka fought off a frown. "I haven't had time to do grocery shopping, but I might have some coffee cake left over. I'll make that coffee now."
"That would be lovely, dear. I do hope it's that brand I like. You know, that Gevalia coffee. It's heavenly tasting. Anything else gives me gas."
"Anything for you, Mama." And thanks for sharing that lovely tidbit.
Padding into her newly retiled and sunny kitchen, she briefly entertained the thought of brewing up a pot of her gourmet Gevalia coffee — the good stuff, the stuff her mother spoke of. But no. Mother and Braxton being unwanted drop-ins, she wasn't feeling it. Gas or no gas, good old instant coffee would have to do.
Neeka felt a heaviness come over her. Her weekends were for her. That's all she asked for. Working with Adeena five days a week was enough. She loved her mother dearly, but that same love was constantly being tested.
"Braxton, I'm sure you remember that Neeka here is the oldest of my three daughters," her mother was saying, like a car salesman throwing his best pitch. "Not to toot my own horn, but she's turned out to be the smartest and the prettiest of the lot. She's a certified accountant and has her BA in business, thanks to my encouraging her to go to school. A mind is a terrible thing to waste."
So is a daughter's time, Neeka mused.
Adeena called out, "Isn't that right, Neeka?"
"Mama, please," Neeka called back. It took all her strength to keep from bolting from the room and running straight out her front door and up the street screaming, Somebody help me please! A bolus of resentment welled up in Neeka's throat. It was obvious her mother was up to something. "I'm sure you can come up with a better topic for Mr. Dupree." Any minute, any second, Adeena might pull a printed account out from her black Prada purse listing all her motherly accolades over the years. Unbelievable. Neeka shook her head as she plugged in an electric pot to heat some water.
"And not only did all three of my daughters attend the best college," Adeena was saying, like she was taping a documentary on the successful woman in need of a husband. "They were raised as proper ladies of the church. Not a Sunday went by that my girls didn't attend morning or evening service."
"Yes, ma'am." Braxton nodded. "I can see you've done a fine job." He seemed amused at most.
Peeking around a corner at the two, Neeka took it all in and tried to analyze it. Her mother at her house so early; her mother's perfectly made-up face lit by pride. Braxton's face frozen in rapt attention. Holy Moses. The man is like a new puppy waiting for another tasty morsel. The two were up to something. She could feel it.
Finishing her task, Neeka walked quietly back into the room and placed an oak tray containing three steaming cups of coffee on the glass coffee table. "Here we go, Mama. I added a splash of cream and two packs of Equal to yours, just the way you like it." To Braxton, she said, "I wasn't sure about you, Braxton, so yours is black." The harsher the better for you.
"Black is fine," assured Braxton, smiling up at her. His eyes took her in with genuine interest. "I like mine black every time."
"Well, good for you," she said. Something in his tone of voice and that silly mischievous look in his eyes made Neeka wonder if he was talking about his coffee or his women. She supposed that a gigolo couldn't be choosy. Either way, she didn't care what he liked. She took a seat in one of two chairs across from the brown suede sofa where they sat.
Adeena squinted at her cup. "Sweetheart, that coffee sure did brew fast. I'm telling you, Braxton, my Neeka turned out to be an excellent cook. She's even taken some culinary classes. Cooks like a professional chef. Makes a mean chocolate cake to die for." She sipped. "Sweetie, this coffee is a bit strong."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Mama." Neeka felt too restless to stay rooted in her chair but did so anyway. For crying out loud, why would her mother be telling Braxton all her business? She looked around the room for something to rest her eyes on but found nothing more engrossing than her mother's face beaming with maternal pride. If the wattage climbed any higher, Adeena's face would be a Christmas tree. Neeka shifted her weight in the chair. Braxton, on the other hand, looked to be sitting at attention. Adeena had that kind of effect on people. It proved to be the same at work. She ran her cosmetic business with an iron fist. Employees perked up and hopped to attention when Adeena Lebeau was on the prowl. Gossip halted, and "idle minds" kicked back into gear. Her mother's presence in the posh office was akin to the pope coming to America.
"So, Neeka. What's been going on with you?" Braxton threw her a question.
Adeena intercepted. "She keeps herself busy. You know idle minds. The devil's workshop. Isn't that right, Neeka?"
"Mama, I believe he asked me." She dared not roll her eyes. "Just working hard everyday. Taking one day at a time. Mama here is like a modern-day slave driver."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Too much Drama by Debra Phillips. Copyright © 2005 Debra Phillips. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
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