Page 14 of Happy Endings

“Good timing. I just finished assembling the most recent donations.” Trixie waved at the table in the back of the room. “Tess toldme you hadn’t picked up this week’s supplies, so I wanted them to be ready when you stopped by.”

The used purses were more than unwanted handbags. Inside were sanitary pads, tampons, deodorant, and other feminine products. One of Trixie’s volunteer duties at the clinic was collecting the purses and donations, then assembling them. She even filled some tote bags with supplies for those who didn’t want or need a purse.

“Thank you!” Keisha threw her arms around Trixie and gave her a bear hug. “Oooh, is that a Kate Spade? Mrs. Harris will be fighting the others for that one!”

Trixie laughed and returned the embrace. Time always passed faster at the clinic with Keisha’s happy vibes. “I’m sorry they were late this week. My car went back into the shop for a new transmission. I bailed it out this morning and picked up the donations.”

“Sorry about your car. My car isn’t fancy, but if you need a ride, let me know.”

“I might take you up on that.” Trixie looked at her watch. “Don’t you need to get back to Mama Hazel’s soon? Let me help you put the purses in your car.”

“Actually, I’m here to talk to you about Mama Hazel’s. And Tre. I mean Andre.”

“Your brother goes by Andre now?” He’d kept so much about his life in DC from Trixie, she wondered how much of their history he’d told his sister.

“Yeah, when he came back from New Orleans, he wanted everyone to call him Andre. But folks are set in their ways. They’ve only known him as Tre.”

“That’s why I’ve never heard you call him Andre before,” saidTrixie. Otherwise, Trixie might have made the connection between the siblings sooner.

“I’m trying so hard, but I forget, too.” Keisha groaned. “He’s right, though. He’s not the neighborhood’s little Tre anymore.”

“What did you want to ask me about the restaurant and Andre?” Trixie twisted a strand of her hair. She wasn’t trying to fish for information. Not really. “He was very surprised to see me and my products there.”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t you.” Keisha waved her hand. “He’s just broody. And feeling weirded out about being the only man there.”

Ithadbeen Trixie. Which meant he didn’t tell Keisha about their past. She couldn’t keep such a big secret from Keisha. After volunteering together for the past few months, they’d become friends. If he didn’t tell his sister soon, she’d tell her.

“Of course. I can see that.”

“Thanks again for suggesting our restaurant to the maid of honor. It was fun and, uh, I—we—Andre and I, we want you to come back.”

Trixie’s eyes widened. Andre had made it very clear that she was not welcome at the restaurant.

“Andre said that?”

“Well, not in so many words.” Keisha bit her lip. “I own half the restaurant, so it’s my decision. I want you back.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. He didn’t seem happy to have a table full of vibrators in the restaurant.”

“He’d be happier if he had a girlfriend who could show him the joys of sex toys!” Keisha shuddered. “Forget I said that. Eww. I did not need that picture in my head.”

Trixie didn’t need a picture of naked Andre in her head either.His hard chest. Muscular arms. He must be lifting a lot of boxes to have that kind of muscle tone. She recalled the wiry black hairs sprinkled across his dark brown chest. Taut abdomen and the hollows next to them that converged into a sharp V—

“Good idea,” Trixie squeaked. She cleared her throat. “No matter how he feels about my products, I got the impression he didn’t care for the arrangement.”

“It doesn’t matter if he cares or not. We need new people at those tables eating our food and drinking his cocktails.” Keisha leaned closer to Trixie. “Business has been slow. Too slow.”

“How can that be? Your food is amazing! My girlfriend has been begging to come back for your fried chicken.”

“I know we serve the best soul food in DC. Our regulars love us, but we need new customers.” Keisha frowned. “The new hipster joints are stealing away all the new business.”

“I thought the developers were revitalizing the neighborhood.”

“More like gentrifying.” Keisha snorted. “They’re drawing in new people, but only to those fast-casual faux-ethnic chains. I mean, only white folks could come up with cauliflower fried ‘rice.’”

“How bad is it?” Trixie ignored the ache growing in her chest. “Surely people will get bored of the other places soon.”

“Andre says we’ll manage, but I can tell he’s worried. Which is why I want you to partner with Mama Hazel’s.”

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