Was it Good for You Too? (8 page)

“Are you saying they didn't want us up in there ‘cause we're Black?” Pam asked.

The gasps that followed that question were expected.

“Yes. I had to get you all out,” Tailan replied. “Your safety will always be my first concern.”

The silence was heartbreaking. Tailan looked out of the window. “All hope is not lost. I want everyone to look outside. See those people out there?”

All gazes focused on the right side of the bus.

“That crowd is here for you. People, mostly White people, came to buy your books, and we're not going to disappoint your new fans.”

Soon everyone's attention was back on Tailan.

“But what choice do we have?” Lorna asked, her caramel face peppered with concern.

Tailan blew out a long, slow breath. “I say we take a page from the late great E. Lynn Harris and pop the trunk.”

Understanding instantly dawned in The Vets' eyes.

A few smiles spread on the faces of M-LAS authors, who were familiar with the man's success and the way he had gone from self-published author to
New York Times
bestseller.

J. L., the youngest of the group, perked up, grinning from ear-to-ear. “So we're gonna sell the books right off the bus?”

“Damn straight,” Tailan said, smiling at the fact that the youngster had peeped the plan too. She winked at him, and he practically beamed.

“Now, that's what I'm talking about,” he said, giving Lorna, Susan, Tanishia, and Pam a high five before traveling up the aisle to do the same with The Vets, Candy, Valarie, Janice, Martha, D. J., and even the most quiet member of the tour, Malcolm.

Excited chatter and murmurs meant everyone was feeling Tailan's Plan B.

Well,
almost
everyone.

“I ain't selling my books like I'm some bootleg chick,” Nona snapped.

Shannon scowled and added, “Naw, ain't happenin'.”

“Nope,” Chanel joined in, settling back into the seat and folding her arms across her bosom. Traci nodded and mimicked her friend's action.

“Then stay your raggedy butts on the bus,” Tailan shot back. “Either way works for me.”

Beverly Jenkins stood, faced Nona and her crew, pushed the glasses up on her nose, and said, “I wasn't going to say anything, but …”

Chapter 9

Delvin was jonesing for some popcorn right about now. This was about to get
gooood
. The Vets were all business. All had paid their dues with years of literary challenges and triumphs. He looked over to Tailan, whose grip on the edge of the seat meant she was bracing herself for what the spicy Vet would have to say.

His eyes darted to Beverly Jenkins and all he could think was,
uh oh.

Delvin knew that look. His mother would give him one of those from time to time when he had the nerve to try her. Didn't work for him then, and it looked like The Divas were about to feel the wrath that lingered behind that look.

Beverly squared her shoulders, leveled a furious glare at Nona and went for the jugular. “This woman has been putting up with your bullshit for the past two days. And I, for one, am damn tired of it!”

The veteran authors all nodded. “That's right,” and “Amen,” followed from several others.

She wagged a finger at the four of them. “Now the time has come for you to be as hardcore as you're always bragging you are, and suddenly y'all acting like pampered punks.”

Brenda stood beside her long-time friend. “You four need to think about the bigger picture, ladies.”

“Sit y'all's old asses down!” Nona snapped, dismissing them with a wave of her taloned hand. “Nobody's talking to you.”

Delvin nearly leapt from his seat to take the woman head-on for being so blatantly foul. But Malcolm, a street-lit author who hadn't had more than two words to say the entire trip, shot to his feet.

“Have you lost your mind?” he thundered at Nona. “That's mad disrespect! Coming at The Vets like that.” His gaze shifted to the rest of the crew. “You broads better backtrack trying to come across as some hood rats. Y'all know better than that.” He did a respectful bow to The Vets, then turned heated eyes back to Nona and her ignorant crew. “Cut all the madness and know what's what. It's ‘cause of them that we're even on this bus. Before your head gets all swol' and your draws supersize …” he pointed to the elder authors and finished with pride. “They paved the way for us. Y'all better recognize.”

Delvin felt the swell of pride filter through to nearly everyone on the bus. Applause thundered. The Vets nodded in unison at the end of Malcolm's diatribe as if to say, “And that's that.”

He hadn't put much stock in this dysfunctional circus of authors, but Delvin had to admit the brown-skinned, Kangol-wearing young man had said a mouthful in that one rhyme.

Tailan didn't waste another second taking it from there. She got directly in Nona's face. “He's right. It's because of gifted authors like these that
you
are able to write the kinds of books you want. They, along with several author pioneers, said no when publishers wanted them to change their characters to White. Now White people are reading the books they've written about women of color.” Tailan scanned the bus for the other divas. “They kicked the door open, and you want to disrespect them?” She leaned forward, and Delvin held his breath. Tailan was going there. “Unacceptable,” she sneered. “
You
won't be signing
any
books today.”

Nona shot back with a response so profane, everyone gasped.

“Whoa,” Delvin said, coming behind Tailan. “Dial that low-grade action back.”

Nona sneered as she flicked her eyes his way. “You would stick up for her.”

“Yeah, probably ‘cause he's been sticking it in her all night,” Shannon taunted.

The four divas cackled with laughter. A shocked silence fell over the bus.

Delvin did not miss Tailan's flinch or the frowns of displeasure on the faces of nearby authors. Beverly slowly gave her bosom a few warning pats, and he recognized the habit. There was no telling what that Vet kept up there.

Delvin readied to let Shannon and Nona have it, but Tailan got there first.

“
You two
are off the tour. Right now!” she said through her teeth. “I will not let you bring the rest of us down.”

The bus became pin-drop quiet.

Delvin wanted to drag Tailan off the bus and ravage her. Just like that, she had shot his lust off the meter. He adored her. When she was pissed, sweet heavens, she was a force of nature—a swirling wind of unstoppable purpose. Pure passion.

“When my team returns, they'll put you on the first thing smoking, whether that's on wheels or four freaking legs.” Tailan pinned Chanel and Traci with a vicious glare. “Would you ladies care to join them?”

Both looked at each other, then back to Tailan, then emphatically shook their heads.

“Riiiight,” Tailan drawled with a lopsided grin at their lack of loyalty. “Love is love, blood is red, and money is green.” Something in the way she slowly straightened to her full height let Delvin know that she wasn't done. With a quick shake of her head she blurted, “On second thought—no.” Tailan stared at Traci and Chanel. “I've had enough of you too. Stick with your homegirls.”

She glanced to Delvin then immediately gave her attention to the rest of the authors. “I appreciate you backing me up on this. The police are on their way. I told them we need escorts for our celebrities.”

When everyone looked toward Delvin, Tailan added, “Not him.”

The authors laughed.

“Well him too. But for
all
of you.” She fanned her hand over the group. “You are literary superstars, and don't you forget it!”

A roar of approval went up on the bus, and Delvin nearly burst with pride. In the excited commotion he took her hand and gave it a quick peck, then held it up like the winner of a boxing match.

Joyce stood and faced the group and began to croon her take on an old gospel song. “I don't know what you come to do, but I come to sell some books.”

“Some books!” the rest of The Vets chimed in, rocking in their seats.

“I come to sell some books.”

“Some books,” the rest of the authors chorused.

“I come to get sold out.”

“Sold out!”

While Joyce and The Vets continued to bring the spirit in through song, and the four problem children huffed, a news van pulled up, and the camera crew piled out behind the reporter.

Tailan tossed back her head and laughed as she clasped her hand in his.

* * *

Time was a precious commodity for Tailan. For her plan to work, all the pieces had to fall into place without a hitch.
Showtime!

Tailan nudged Delvin in his side. “Get out there and do your thing.”

With a caress of her shoulder and a whisper of, “I've got this, baby,” in her ear, he was down the steps and walking toward the female reporters.

Tailan moved to the driver. When he looked up she ordered, “Ray, move the bus near that crowd of people.” She pointed over to the steadily growing group in front of the store's main entrance.

The driver pulled about one hundred feet forward and opened the door.

At that moment, The Nelson Entertainment Group team wheeled around the corner, tires squealing in protest as they stopped in front of the bus. Authors piled out and swiftly went to unload the books out of the cars.

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” Tailan whispered. “Hallelujah!”

The authors' enthusiastic rushing about caught the attention of their fans. Stampede style, the excited book buyers hurried from the store and created a cul-de-sac around the bus. The authors were lined up, side by side with their books neatly stacked on the ground before them. Tailan wanted to kiss every single one of them.

Still no police. Their presence would ease her fears immensely. She turned to the four authors on punishment. “You'll have to wait until this signing's over to go back to the hotel. I need all of my team with me right now.”

“What can we do to help?” Nona asked in the softest tone she had used—
ever
.

Tailan pursed her lips and absently massaged her temple. “Seriously?” she questioned. “Now you want to act like you've got some sense?”

“Yeah,” Nona started. “I was being difficult—”

Tailan nearly choked on her response.

“Okay, a bitch, and I know it,” Nona admitted. “Apologies for what I said to you and The Vets.” She cleared her throat twice; apparently, the humble pie was lodged in it. “I didn't mean to disrespect them like that.”

Decision time. Tailan blew out a frustrated breath. The crowd was building. She looked out the window to where her team was trying to direct traffic. Some people were scrambling out of their cars, others were craning their necks, probably trying to see the four hood stooges she had on lock down on the bus.

“Shoot,” she muttered, then focused on the anxious four. “You need to make sure you say it to them,” Tailan said, nodding toward The Vets stationed at the middle of the line.

Nona nodded. And so did the other three.

“And in front of
everyone
when we get back on board.”

Silence ticked by for a few spells.

“Fine!” Shannon shouted.

“Watch your tone, Shannon!” Tailan was in no mood to play.

An involuntary tick started just above Shannon's eye. She took a moment. “Sorry.” Her inflection was controlled and steady. “I will.”

Traci said, “Okay.”

“Yes Ma'am!” Chanel groaned.

Tailan had an epiphany. A little street cred on the ground out there with the others couldn't hurt if something jumped off. Two of them looked like they could throw down and be the last one standing when it was over. They needed to be on either side of The Vets, and they'd better live up to their hard core image.

But first …

Nona moved barely an inch. Tailan took her nose-to-nose—eye to eye. “And the next time you feel like putting my bizness in da street, I'ma whup yo' ass. You ain't the only one wit' a li'l street in ‘em. Southside—Chi-town, baby. Jeffrey Manor—ride or die. Remember dat.”

Nona blinked, flinched, then gasped at Tailan's slip into hood-speak.

Tailan pointed to the front of the bus. “Now get out there and sell some damn books.”

She didn't have to say it twice. They almost carried her with them as they ran out.

The moment Tailan stepped onto the pavement, the general manager came running over, his burly entourage in tow. “You can't be here!” he screeched. “Get that bus off the lot! Get those people back on the bus!”

Tailan ignored him and went to Delvin's side. She extended her hand to the wavy-haired newswoman with the angular face and wide smile. “This is”—Tailan looked at the badge clipped onto the pair of his baggy jeans—”Bill. He's the general manager of this store.” Tailan clapped a hand on the man's back and pulled him in close like they were old buddies. “And I'd like
him
to tell you the reason the authors are signing
outside
in the parking lot rather than
inside
at the tables that Woodland has all set for them.” Tailan blinked her eyes innocently and relished the fire flashing in Bill's baby blues. “Bill, the floor's all yours,” she said with a flourish of her hand. “Tell them what you told me.”

“Well … well, they didn't tell us so many would be coming,” he whined, his cronies nodding to support the lie.

Delvin whipped out the advertisements that were made for the tour. He passed one to Bill, then to both reporters, who scanned the paper, then looked at Bill for answers. All of the authors, all of the books being promoted, were listed clearly on the flyers.

Shoppers were leaving the store and wandering over to see what the ruckus was about. Most were vying for spots near the cameras. People were lined up in front of the authors, patiently waiting for their autographs, while Tailan's team collected monies for the sales.