The Savvy Sistahs Read online

  The Savvy Sistahs

  Also by Brenda Jackson

  A Family Reunion

  Ties That Bind

  The Savvy Sistahs

  Brenda Jackson

  St.Martin’s Griffin New York

  THE SAVVY SISTAHS. Copyright © 2003 by Brenda Streater Jackson. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St.Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Book design by Susan Yang

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Jackson, Brenda (Brenda Streater)

  The savvy sistahs / Brenda Jackson.—1st ed.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 0-312-31512-0 1. African American women—Fiction. 2.African American businesspeople—Fiction. 3. Female friendship—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3560.A21165S38 2003

  813'.54—dc21

  2003047155

  First Edition: November 2003

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Acknowledgments

  This book is dedicated to the “Savvy Sistahs” who made my birthday celebration so special: Denise Coleman, Patricia Sams, Nina Davenport, Racquel Bolden-Lott, Katherine Foster, Rita Daniels, Felicia Edwards, Tonya Knox, Brenda Johnson-Whaley, Tina Norfleet, and Tara West. I totally enjoyed our “sistahs” night out.

  And to my Heavenly Father, who loves me and gives me the strength to endure all things.

  Blessings on all who reverence, trust and obey the Lord.

  Their reward will be prosperity and happiness.

  Psalms 128: 1-2

  Prologue

  When three fabulously fine women walked into the plush Orlando restaurant, a number of heads turned and looked their way. Individually as well as collectively, they received admiring glances and lingering gazes. Other women silently complimented the way they were dressed—glamorous, elegant, and stunning. A few necks strained to see if perhaps they were well-known celebrities who had graced the tourist city. When it was determined they weren’t, everyone was satisfied in reaching the conclusion that what they saw were gorgeous, sophisticated, high-class sistahs; women who knew what they wanted; women who were accomplished in everything they did.

  Brandy Bennett, a divorée, was thirty-three and stood at a height of five-six. She had medium brown skin coloring, dark brown eyes, and wore her shoulder-length hair in braids. She was manager and sole owner of the St. Laurent, a very prestigious hotel.

  Carla Osborne was thirty-two and stood five-seven. Her skin coloring was burnished bronze, the color of her eyes was dark coffee, and she wore her black hair in a short and sassy cut. She was a single parent and CEO of Osborne Computer Network, Incorporated.

  Amber Stuart, also a divorée, was thirty-two and stood five-eight. Her black shoulder-length hair, cocoa-colored skin, and amber-colored eyes complemented her voluptuous figure. She was the proud owner of Amber’s Books and Gifts.

  Brandy Bennett smiled upon seeing the attention they were getting. She had a pretty good idea what everyone was thinking. Some would call them savvy and she would accept that description as a dramatic turning point in each of their lives, because before they became savvy they had been survivors of the leading destroyer of black women…a damn no-good brother.

  She glanced over at Carla and Amber. They were here to celebrate. Their friendship had begun a year ago on this very night. At that time they had formed a sistah-circle and called it the ABCs, taken from the first letter of each of their names. The three had been victims of dog bites of the worst kind, deep wounds inflcted by doggish men who refused to do right. For a long time pride had kept them from baring the heartaches they had endured. But through the power of prayer, the grace of God, and a firm belief that no man could keep a good woman down, they had stepped out on faith and rebuilt their lives. And although they’d never shared in detail the circumstances that had brought them to this point, it hadn’t been hard to figure out that it had involved mistreatment by a man. A bond had been forged between them and the support they had given one another, both personal and professional, had been priceless.

  Thomas Reynolds, the owner of the Commodore Restaurant, looked up, saw them, and smiled. His gaze lingered on one of the women in particular. “Ladies, it’s good seeing you again, and the room you requested is ready, if you care to follow me.”

  They followed as he led them to a private dining room. “Oh, Thomas, this is perfect,” Brandy exclaimed, glancing around. The secluded room had a beautiful panoramic view of Orlando.

  Thomas’s smile widened, boosted by Brandy’s compliment. “Thank you, and I’m glad I was able to please you.”

  He had drawn the last words out and Brandy had caught his meaning. She immediately thought of the last time he had tried pleasing her. It had been their first and last date almost two years ago. She had arrived in town not knowing a soul, and he had been eager to make her acquaintance and get her into his bed…and after a time she had accommodated him, only to roll away less than thirty minutes later totally disappointed. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried, because Lord knows he had, but once she had lain on her back, she couldn’t get past the fact that he was a man older than her father. And although the outside package was pretty damn tempting—since he didn’t look the age of sixty— his techniques in the bedroom, in her opinion, were outdated and left a lot to be desired.

  But what had developed between them afterward was a close friendship, and she much preferred it that way. He had been the one to tell her about the support group for professional black businesswomen called Savvy Sistahs Who Mean Business. The group’s motto was: “Don’t just empower sistahs—put sistahs in power.” The members met monthly and offered support, advice, and the tools needed to be successful in dealing with double discrimination—both racism and sexism: maximizing strengths and downsizing weaknesses, developing business strategies and management styles, and coping with business ownership. It was there at the monthly meetings that she had met Carla and Amber.

  “Can we sit down and order our food? I’m starving.”

  Brandy smiled at Carla, the one who always ate the most and weighed the least. “Sure.” She then glanced at Amber, who was trying to hide her smile.

  “Thomas, we’d like to take a look at your menu, and we would like a bottle of your best wine. We’re celebrating,” Brandy said excitedly.

  He lifted a brow. “Oh? And what’s the occasion, if I may ask?”

  A beguiling smile touched the corners of Brandy’s mouth. “A year of friendship and the success of our businesses.”

  Their plates were cleared from the table, and Brandy reached for her wineglass while studying Carla’s worried expression. “Is anything wrong?”

  Carla met Brandy’s gaze and smiled. She’d been caught. “No, not really. I was just wondering how Craig’s doing.”

  Brandy took a sip and nodded, understanding completely. Craig was Carla’s two-year-old son. His usual babysitter was out of town and Carla had used a backup, a girl who lived in the neighborhood. Although the teenager had come highly recommended, it was evident that Carla was still worried. “Why don’t you call home and check on him.”

  Carla shrugged. “You think I should?”

  “Yes, of course you should. You’re a concerned mother and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Carla smiled,relieved. “Thanks.” She then glanced at Amber. “To the both of you.”

  Amber chuckled. “And what did we do?”

  “Extending your friendships and being there for me this past year, being honorary aunti
es to Craig, and stepping in to help out during those last-minute business trips when Mrs. Boston or Sonya wasn’t available.”

  Brandy nodded. “Speaking of Sonya, where is she tonight? I’m surprised she doesn’t have Craig,” she said about the woman who was Carla’s best friend from high school and Craig’s godmother.

  A smile touched Carla’s lips. “Sonya had a date and I couldn’t ask her to change her plans on my account. I’m glad she finally met someone she likes enough to go out with. She can be so nit-picky when it comes to men.”

  Amber laughed as she took a sip of her own wine. “Look who’s talking.”

  A slight frown marred Carla’s smooth forehead. “I’m not nit-picky, I just choose not to date anyone seriously until Craig is older.” She held Amber’s gaze. “So what’s your reason for being nit-picky?”

  When Amber didn’t answer and started studying her wineglass too long for comfort, Brandy decided to shift the attention to herself and open up a topic that the three of them had avoided since meeting.

  The details of their past.

  “Did I ever tell the two of you about my ex-husband, Lorenzo Ballentine?” she asked, looking at her friends from under her lashes as she sipped her wine, knowing damn well that she hadn’t ever mentioned anything about Lorenzo.

  When Carla and Amber simultaneously said “no,” she smiled. “I think few people can recall with absolute certainty the precise moment that may have changed their lives. I can definitely remember mine.”

  She reached for the wine bottle to pour more wine into her glass before she continued. “It was two years ago, two days before my wedding, when I discovered that my fiané, the man I loved completely and planned to marry, had been unfaithful with my best friend, Jolene Bradford—the woman who was maid of honor in my wedding.”

  Sadness and pain for Brandy reflected in both Carla and Amber’s faces. “How did you find out?” Amber asked quietly.

  Brandy smiled sadly. “He was stupid enough to make a videotape of their lovemaking session and hid it on a top shelf in the closet of his bedroom. I was looking for old videotapes of our past vacations that would be shown at the wedding and came across it. Since it wasn’t labeled, I played it and what I saw shocked the hell out of me.”

  Carla shook her head, appalled. “I can imagine how you must have felt.”

  Brandy met her gaze. “No, I don’t think anyone will ever be able to imagine the hurt and pain I endured after watching it.”

  After a long moment, Amber spoke up. “But you didn’t call off the wedding?”

  Brandy smiled. “No,although that was my first intent,but I changed my mind. That was the day that changed my life because I had help in making that decision. Three cousins who I never got along with while growing up, Alexia, Rae’jean, and Taye, showed me the true meaning of the term ‘blood is thicker than water’ by giving me their shoulders to cry on and sharing with me their strength. They also reminded me of the importance of family—especially in a crisis.”

  “They talked you into proceeding with marrying a man who’d been unfaithful to you?” Carla asked in a startled voice, clearly shocked. “Why?”

  “Because financially, it made perfect sense. Lorenzo and his family are wealthy Jamaicans who made their money as real estate developers and large financial investors. They own, among other things, a number of hotels in Jamaica, the Western Caribbean, and the United States. My cousins saw no reason for me to lose out on gaining access to any of that. After I was able to put the hurt, anger, and humiliation aside, they convinced me not to get mad but to get even.”

  Amber chuckled. “Did you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good for you,” Amber said laughing. “So you confronted him on your wedding night?”

  “No, I arranged for the videotape to be played during the wedding reception dinner, since we’d planned to show videos of our past romantic vacations together anyway. I paid the wedding planner a little extra something to handle everything and to keep his mouth closed and do what he was told.”

  Carla leaned back in her chair, beside herself with laughter. “Let me get this straight. While the two of you were at the wedding reception, sitting down enjoying a wonderful meal with your wedding guests—”

  “All five hundred of them,” Brandy decided to cut in and add.

  Carla shook her head and continued. “With all five hundred of your wedding guests watching, the videotape of your husband’s tryst with your best friend began playing?”

  “Yes.”

  Amber took another sip of her wine to keep from laughing, but ended up laughing anyway, nearly choking in the process. “What was everyone’s reaction?”

  “Things went crazy. I fainted, playacting of course, but according to my cousins, all hell broke loose after that. Lorenzo and I were ushered into a private room with the minister, our parents, and his attorney. Lorenzo tried to explain things but there was nothing he could say. Even his parents were appalled as well as embarrassed, since they had invited a number of important business associates to the wedding. All the while we were holed up in that private room, I’m told the tape kept playing because a number of people were enjoying watching the X-rated show Lorenzo and Jolene were putting on.”

  Carla’s and Amber’s eyes bulged, but Brandy continued, pretending not to notice. “Needless to say, to keep down the scandal and details of what happened, I was paid off very well. And although the Ballentine family—Lorenzo, in particular—didn’t want to part with any of their hotels, my attorney demanded as part of the divorce settlement that I be given one of the most profitable hotels. That’s how I became owner of the St. Laurent.”

  Brandy silently thought about the weeks following her wedding. Although she would thank God every day for letting her find out just what type of person Lorenzo was, she hadn’t seemed to be able to move on with her life. Everyone thought she was doing a rather admirable job coping, but the truth was that emotionally, she’d been falling apart.

  Again, it had been her three cousins who’d helped her get past Lorenzo and Jolene’s betrayal and pick her life back up and move on. However, it had been her grandfather Ethan Bennett’s death that had finally brought her around. During the last conversation she’d had with him, which had taken place a day before his unexpected death, he had told her that a person had to be the one to take charge of their life and seek their own happiness. Because of those words, she had decided to stop wallowing in self-pity and do exactly that.

  She glanced at her watch and said to Carla and Amber, “Tonight is still early. I suggest you call home and check on Craig, Carla, then we can continue to share our wine and our secrets.”

  Each woman understood what she meant. The final turning point in their lives would be to finally share their past pain. They had known for the longest time that pride had kept them from owning up to the hurt they had suffered and from confiding in each other about it.

  Tonight was a time to not only celebrate their success, but also to embrace their growth as women who were finally able to put to rest their deep emotional pain. When Carla placed her mobile phone back in her purse after completing her call, the three women leaned back in their seats, slipped off their shoes, and drank wine as their minds reflected what had happened in their lives to bring them to this point.

  Tonight would be a night for purging their souls.

  Carla was the one who spoke up next. “I haven’t slept with anyone since the night I spent with Craig’s father.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Amber spoke. “That’s been almost three years, hasn’t it?”

  Carla smiled. “Yes, and that was my first and last time, so I only got a little taste.” She felt a thickness in her throat when she immediately remembered what a nice size man he’d been. “I mean, I got a rather big taste,” she said smiling sheepishly.

  Brandy leaned forward, definitely interested. “And?” she asked, encouraging her.

  Carla went back in time as she recall
ed her one and only affair. “I met him at a party. In fact, it was a birthday party that Sonya’s parents had given her. Jesse Devereau was in town doing business with Sonya’s father and was invited to the party. We met, were immediately attracted to each other, and made plans to spend the next day together, which was Thanksgiving.”

  “You made plans to spend the holiday with this guy instead of your family?” Amber asked, surprised.

  “Only because my family made plans to spend Thanksgiving without me,” Carla said as a bitter taste flooded her mouth. “After Dad died it became the norm for Mom to go her way on Thanksgiving and my brother Clark to go his, which left me alone with little or nothing to do.”

  Carla stopped speaking as she recalled the tragedy that had struck her family a few weeks after that. “I wish things could have been different, since that was the last Thanksgiving before Clark was killed.” She took a sip of her wine, then added, “I think Mom would have preferred it was me in that car that night instead of Clark. She’s never hidden the fact that he was her favorite.”

  “Thank you, Lord, that I’m an only child,” Brandy said, throwing her braids over her shoulders in a motion of bravado. “I’m blessed that my parents have never given me grief.”

  It was only when Amber jerked her head around to stare at her that it became obvious what Brandy had done. In her own usual “make it real” way she was being the drama queen. Every so often they needed one; especially when their talks got too somber.

  “Forget about your mama for now, Carla, since we established the fact a while back that she wasn’t operating with a full deck. Let’s get back to this Jesse guy,” Brandy said, gripping the edge of the table. “Why do I get these vibes that this brother was fine, fine, fine. Maybe it’s because you’ve said many times that Craig took his looks from his father, and we all know that kid of yours is going to have all the women swooning in about fifteen years or less.”