Baines?”
Rhoda nodded. “No offense to your mama and all the good old down-home treats she offers at the Buttercup, but newcomers like Louis need our support more.”
I had cruised by the new restaurant in question a few times and had been meaning to check it out. I guessed I had no choice but to do so now.
“My mother would have a fit if she found out I was using somebody else’s catering services instead of hers,” I groaned.
74
Mary Monroe
“That’s true. But what your mama doesn’t know won’t hurt her,”
Rhoda responded. “Please do yourself a favor and give Louis a chance.”
“I’ll think about it. But if I do and he disappoints me, your name will be mud in my book.”
C H A P T E R 1 5
Thanks to my generous late stepfather, my mother had inherited the restaurant that he’d opened and had worked it into a huge success. The Buttercup, which would eventually be mine, was the most exclusive black-owned restaurant in town. Even though Richland was an hour away from Cleveland, and just a fraction of its size, people came from as far away as Cleveland to feast at the Buttercup.
“Your mother doesn’t have to know,” said Rhoda. “And besides, that woman can’t handle all the jobs she gets now! Have you forgotten how my bowlin’ team had to get on a waitin’ list last month, when we tried to use your mama’s caterin’ services to celebrate our anniversary?”
“Yeah. But my mother had to turn down a lot of jobs last month because of that strawberry farmers’ convention,” I said. “She got paid big-time to feed them.”
“Just think about it,” Rhoda suggested, rising. The jeans she wore looked like they belonged on a doll. Her long jet-black hair was in a single braid, which touched the middle of her back. It seemed like the older she got, the more beautiful she got. And her dark brown skin was as smooth as a baby’s behind. Her eyes were as large, clear, and green, as they’d been the first time I laid eyes on 76
Mary Monroe
her, at thirteen. But now there was often an unbearable look of sadness in those beautiful eyes.
When it came to looks, Rhoda and I were an odd couple—in high school we were referred to as Beauty and the Beast—but like me, she had had her share of traumas. Not only had she lost a brother and a son, she’d lost part of herself. Cancer had robbed her of her breasts, and a mild stroke had disrupted her life and temporarily disabled her about ten years ago. I was glad that even though she had endured so much pain, she still had an optimistic outlook on life. As my best friend, she had enriched my life in so many ways.
“By the way, I am glad to see you wearin’ makeup on a regular basis now,” Rhoda said, smiling. Her eyes rolled up to the top of my head. “And keep the braids,” she advised, with a wink.
I wobbled up from my seat and walked her out of my office. As soon as we reached the main floor, everybody stopped talking and tried to act like they didn’t see me. That was what they always did when I approached their work area, and I didn’t like it one bit. It made me feel like an outsider.
I let out a loud sigh. “You see what I mean,” I said in a low voice as Rhoda and I headed to the nearest exit. I was glad that our company was on the ground floor of the midsize gray building, which we shared with several other businesses.
“The first time you cater an event with Louis Baines, you get a ten percent discount,” Rhoda mentioned. “And free beverages.”
We stopped as soon as we got outside.
“You sure are trying hard to get me to work with this guy. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that there was something in it for you,”
I teased.
“There is. I get an event catered for free each time I send him a new client.”
I gave Rhoda a pensive look. “Let me think about it. But before I do anything, I’d like to sample what this dude has to offer. Maybe you and I can have lunch there one day soon so I can check him
Rhoda nodded. “No offense to your mama and all the good old down-home treats she offers at the Buttercup, but newcomers like Louis need our support more.”
I had cruised by the new restaurant in question a few times and had been meaning to check it out. I guessed I had no choice but to do so now.
“My mother would have a fit if she found out I was using somebody else’s catering services instead of hers,” I groaned.
74
Mary Monroe
“That’s true. But what your mama doesn’t know won’t hurt her,”
Rhoda responded. “Please do yourself a favor and give Louis a chance.”
“I’ll think about it. But if I do and he disappoints me, your name will be mud in my book.”
C H A P T E R 1 5
Thanks to my generous late stepfather, my mother had inherited the restaurant that he’d opened and had worked it into a huge success. The Buttercup, which would eventually be mine, was the most exclusive black-owned restaurant in town. Even though Richland was an hour away from Cleveland, and just a fraction of its size, people came from as far away as Cleveland to feast at the Buttercup.
“Your mother doesn’t have to know,” said Rhoda. “And besides, that woman can’t handle all the jobs she gets now! Have you forgotten how my bowlin’ team had to get on a waitin’ list last month, when we tried to use your mama’s caterin’ services to celebrate our anniversary?”
“Yeah. But my mother had to turn down a lot of jobs last month because of that strawberry farmers’ convention,” I said. “She got paid big-time to feed them.”
“Just think about it,” Rhoda suggested, rising. The jeans she wore looked like they belonged on a doll. Her long jet-black hair was in a single braid, which touched the middle of her back. It seemed like the older she got, the more beautiful she got. And her dark brown skin was as smooth as a baby’s behind. Her eyes were as large, clear, and green, as they’d been the first time I laid eyes on 76
Mary Monroe
her, at thirteen. But now there was often an unbearable look of sadness in those beautiful eyes.
When it came to looks, Rhoda and I were an odd couple—in high school we were referred to as Beauty and the Beast—but like me, she had had her share of traumas. Not only had she lost a brother and a son, she’d lost part of herself. Cancer had robbed her of her breasts, and a mild stroke had disrupted her life and temporarily disabled her about ten years ago. I was glad that even though she had endured so much pain, she still had an optimistic outlook on life. As my best friend, she had enriched my life in so many ways.
“By the way, I am glad to see you wearin’ makeup on a regular basis now,” Rhoda said, smiling. Her eyes rolled up to the top of my head. “And keep the braids,” she advised, with a wink.
I wobbled up from my seat and walked her out of my office. As soon as we reached the main floor, everybody stopped talking and tried to act like they didn’t see me. That was what they always did when I approached their work area, and I didn’t like it one bit. It made me feel like an outsider.
I let out a loud sigh. “You see what I mean,” I said in a low voice as Rhoda and I headed to the nearest exit. I was glad that our company was on the ground floor of the midsize gray building, which we shared with several other businesses.
“The first time you cater an event with Louis Baines, you get a ten percent discount,” Rhoda mentioned. “And free beverages.”
We stopped as soon as we got outside.
“You sure are trying hard to get me to work with this guy. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that there was something in it for you,”
I teased.
“There is. I get an event catered for free each time I send him a new client.”
I gave Rhoda a pensive look. “Let me think about it. But before I do anything, I’d like to sample what this dude has to offer. Maybe you and I can have lunch there one day soon so I can check him
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