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said with a wide smile. “You’re looking nice today. Is that a new suit?”
    “Hello, Chardonnay,” Toussaint responded. “This is not a new suit, and you look nice as well.”
    “Thank you.” Chardonnay preened. Like most women who worked at Taste of Soul, she fantasized about being with Toussaint Livingston. “I like that chain too. It’s platinum, huh?”
    Shyla cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but is Toussaint the only customer you see at this table?”
    Naw, bitch, he’s just the only one I wanted to speak to!
“Uh, hi, Shyla.”
    “I’d prefer that you call me Ms. Martin, and, Toussaint, shouldn’t she address you as Mr. Livingston? You are a top executive, while she’s … well … at the opposite end of the spectrum.”
    Chardonnay ignored Shyla and looked at Toussaint.
Zoe said she’d bet money this skank ho was fucking you. I bet she’s right
.
    “You know we’re not that formal,” Toussaint said, smiling at Chardonnay. “Besides, we value
every
employee in the corporation, no matter their position.”
    Shyla wasn’t ready to leave Chardonnay alone.
This troll is almost drooling, for God’s sake. Toussaint would never stoop to the level of your ghetto ass!
“At Taste of Soul, we pride ourselves on excellence in every area.” Shyla scanned Chardonnay fromhead to toe. “Your blouse is wrinkled, your shoes are not shined, and that blob of barbeque sauce on your skirt is disgusting. Do you feel this is the best you can do in representing us?”
    Chardonnay looked down at the splotch, more to mask the fire in her eyes than anything else. She needed this job, or she would have already mopped up half the floor with Shyla’s weave. Plus, she figured if Shyla was sleeping with Toussaint, she might have enough clout to get her fired.
You’ve gone and crossed the wrong sistah
, Chardonnay thought, even as she fixed her face with a look of embarrassment.
Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to fuck with the person who was fixing your food?
“I’m sorry,” Chardonnay said in a kind, soft voice. “I didn’t notice the stain. I just finished serving a family with children. Should I take your order and then go and remove it, or would you like me to remove it first, while you two decide what you want?”
    “Where’s Jermaine?” Shyla asked. “I’d rather he wait on us. I don’t like your fake, syrupy attitude.”
    “Now, now, ladies,” Toussaint said. “Let’s not fight. We’re on the same team, and I’m ready to eat. We would love for you to take our order, Chardonnay,” he continued. “What are the specials today?”
    Chardonnay rattled off five different specials from memory, with specific details about each one above and beyond what was required. Her special care with customers brought her big tips, and she wanted to take special care with the man currently at her table. After taking their orders, Chardonnay smiled at Toussaint and apologized again to Shyla. “I’ll bring your drinks and then take care of this stain,” she said. “Thanks for pointing it out to me. I know I’m representing the company and want to look my best.” With that she turned and walked away, knowing how the navy skirt that was part of her uniform emphasized her bubble butt and knowing that Toussaint was watching.
    She was right. Toussaint watched Chardonnay’s swaying backside until she turned the corner. “A bit hard on the help, don’t you think?” he asked once he refocused on Shyla.
    “She was rude and blatantly disrespectful,” Shyla answered. “I’m surprised you didn’t check her before I did.”
    “How did she disrespect you?”
    Shyla rolled her eyes.
Men! Put a pair of titties and a big ass in front of them and they go deaf!
“Never mind, it’s over,” she said finally, not wanting to give Chardonnay any more air time. Shyla had more important fish to fry than the ones being prepared for Toussaint’s plate. Such as getting a little platinum of her own—namely an engagement