Free Was it Good for You Too? by Naleighna Kai Page B

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.
    â€œShoot,” 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.
    â€œAnd in front of everyone when we get back on board.”
    Silence ticked by for a few spells.
    â€œFine!” Shannon shouted.
    â€œWatch 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.”
    â€œYes 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.”
    â€œWell … 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.
    Two Woodland employees exited the store carrying a table and chairs. They were followed by several other employees who all carried tables, book stands, and chairs, which they hurried to set up outside the bus. The store’s staff nodded to Tailan and completely ignored the general manager’s glare.
    â€œYou stop this right now,”