Suspicions by Sasha Campbell Page B

thin mustache. I had to take several deep breaths to regain my composure, then slowly raised my hand. He nodded, then motioned toward the empty chair on the right. “After you.”
    Suck it up, Candace ! I took his cue and moved onto the floor. It took everything I had to ignore his appreciative smile as I passed in black slacks, white blouse, and black leather mules, wishing I had worn the red wrap dress and stilettos I had pulled out my closet this morning. I’m a 36-28-38, which means I’ve got perfect breasts, a small waist, and a black woman’s ass. I loved to be admired and will tell a brotha in a second, “You can look, but you can’t touch.”
    I took a seat and our eyes collided. “How are you doing today?” he asked.
    â€œFine.” I started chanting in my head. Stay focused.You didn’t come to conversate. You came to get your toes done . Chauncey was gorgeous, but he’s still a man just like all the others, at least that’s what I was trying to convince myself. Men who looked like him trapped you with their good looks and charm, and once they’ve stolen your heart, dropped you like a bad habit. I slipped off my shoes, rolled up my pants legs, took a seat, then lowered my feet in the tub. To make sure he knew what time it was, I reached for a book out of my purse.
    â€œHow’s that water feel?”
    Almost as good as that warm tingling feeling he was causing between my legs. My feet felt so good I wanted to moan, but I forced myself to nod since I definitely didn’t trust myself to speak.
    â€œSit back and enjoy. I’ll be back in a second.” He programmed the massage chair, then walked over to pick up some sterilized utensils. I took advantage of the opportunity to watch him move. Oh, did he have a swagger that was out of this world. His walk reminded me of my baby’s daddy, which was an oh - hell - no! moment. Chauncey was definitely not the type of man I needed in my life. I forced myself to dig deep and remember what I had gone through with Tyree.
    Tyree had been locked up long before Miasha was even born, and ever since he was paroled, he been dropping by almost every week. However, every time he came through, he seemed more interested in climbing back in my bed than spending time with his daughter. I need stability in my life. And Tyree was definitely not the one.
    Chauncey took a seat on the stool in front of me. “What can I do for you?”
    â€œFrench tips would be fine.”
    He smiled up at me, batting his thick, long lashes, and I felt my stomach quiver. “Your man ever tell you you have pretty feet?” Oh Lord, no, he wasn’t trying to go there. “Baby, they look good enough to suck.” Was he actually flirting with me?
    I glanced over at the female in the next chair. She looked like she wanted to slap me because he was talking about my feet and not hers. I cut my eyes at her because she needed to mind her own business. As desperate as she looked, she probably would have asked, “When and where you want it?” A female like me simply had more respect for herself than to fall for that shit he was dishing out. “Are you going to do my feet or what, ’cause I can just come back another time?”
    For a brief second I thought Chauncey was going to tell me to do just that and I would have slapped myself if he had. But as quickly as the frown appeared, it left and his smile returned. “Damn, boo . . . relax . . . I got you.”
    â€œI ain’t your boo.” I hardened the tone of my voice. If I could keep this attitude up until I got out the salon, I would be fine at least until I got home and grabbed my vibrator from the nightstand. His smile was sexy and the way he talked was a downright turn-on. Why he gotta be so fine?
    I opened my book and tried to focus on reading. I love me some James Patterson, but it was hard to focus when a gorgeous man was handling my feet. He