Free Admission of Love by Niobia Bryant Page A

to the bachelors and widowers of the small town. It was easy to see why. They couldn’t do much better themselves.
    “It can’t be that bad Dev ... or is it?”
    He looked up from his plate to find his childhood friend and secretary, Alicia Jenkins. His frown turned to a reserved smile. “Worse.”
    Devon stood up, waving a hand toward the empty booth seat across from him. She took the seat, sliding her petite, pear-shaped frame onto the booth. “I just came from Walterboro shopping and I saw your truck. Nana Lil ain’t sick is she, ’cause I know she throws down in the kitchen on Sundays?”
    Devon pushed his plate away, resigned to not eating until he went home, and that would be well after he thought she was gone. “No, she’s not sick. I just felt . . . like . . . some . . . Donnie’s that’s all.”
    The words were forced and Alicia knew her friend of nearly thirty years. “Word’s out that Chloe Bolton came into town today.”
    A vision of her filled him at the mention of her name. He shook his head, as if to remove the image. “Yes, she did. First class in her convertible BMW. She’s out to the house now. Nana Lil invited her to dinner.”
    “Oh,” was all Alicia said.
    “Anyway, Shawn’s meeting with her after dinner.” He sipped from his glass of raspberry iced tea, the only good part of his meal.
    Something was up and Alicia knew it. For one, Devon was having Sunday dinner at Donnie’s when she knew that Nana Lil had cooked. Two, the supermodel was finally in town and having dinner with Deshawn and Lil. Third and lastly, Devon was leaving a meeting to Deshawn alone, when he didn’t appear to be doing anything more important instead.
    Something was definitely up.
    Alicia was well aware of Devon’s less-than-complimentary opinion of the celebrity. On many occasions in the office, he had said how they were just a step above strippers, using their bodies to sell products. Deshawn, on the other hand, was like a kid in a candy store about the prospect of the grand Chloe Bolton moving down the road from him.
    Alicia didn’t know how she felt. From a distance, she envied the beauty and fame of the supermodel. What woman wouldn’t? But seeing her face to face every day for any length of time was a different matter. Chloe Bolton. She’d seen her commercials, her face filled the fashion magazines, her beauty books were bestsellers, her life was detailed in the gossip rags and television shows. She was big time.
    What did she want in a small town like Holtsville? Family or no family, Alicia couldn’t see herself being supa dupa rich and moving to Holtsville. Most young people were rushing to get away.
    She looked down at his full, uneaten plate of food. “Look here, I know you’re hungry. Come to my place and I’ll make you something good to eat, friend.”
    Devon looked at her. “Naw, that’s okay. You don’t have to cook for me.”
    “Oh. Okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow at work.” She scooted her ample bottom over on the seat and stood up, walking past him to leave the restaurant. Suddenly, she turned. “Chicken and dumplings?”
    Devon jumped up and dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table to handle his check and a tip. “It’s on.”
     
    ∞
    “That was good Al. Thanks.”
    Alicia stood, taking a mock bow, before picking up their plates from the small round kitchen table to sit in the sudsy water in the sink. She quickly washed up the few dishes before joining him in her pastel-colored living room. He sat slouched on her mint sofa, flipping through the channels of her nineteen-inch television. She smiled at the sight of him, big and muscular, crouched on the small piece of furniture.
    “What’s she like?” Alicia asked suddenly.
    Devon glanced toward her before turning back to the television. “Who?”
    “Who else? Chloe Bolton.”
    “Exactly as I expected. Just imagine Elissa to the one hundredth degree.” He laughed shortly as Alicia made a face.
    She remembered Elissa