Free Larger Than Lyfe by Cynthia Diane Thornton Page A

reserved the basketball court took the floor.
    “Guts,” Mars said, “has nothing to do with the reason that I’m not married. You know that I’m not knockin’ marriage. I have yet to meet the woman qualified to become Mrs. Buchanan.”
    He stepped out of his workout clothes and under the steamy jets of shower water. Jason laughed, and then turned around to rinse off.
    “The woman ‘qualified,’ as you put it, to become ‘Mrs. Buchanan’ doesn’t seem to exist. You keep raising the bar or changing the rules.”

    The two men stepped out of the showers simultaneously and cinched towels at their athletically chiseled waists.
    “Whatever happened to the sista who decorated your condo?” Jason asked. “What’s her name? Portia something. She was a runway model or something before starting her own design firm. Now, there’s a beautiful sista.”
    “Portia and I still see each other off and on,” Mars answered. “She wants a lot more than I’m capable of giving her. She wants commitment and I’m just not feeling that with her.”
    They stood at their adjacent lockers and began to dress. Mars slipped into a cream-colored, velour Sean John sweatsuit and zipped the jacket over his bare chest. Jason slid on black Armani trousers and a black silk knit tee.
    “I met somebody,” Mars said suddenly.
    “And?” Jason said disinterestedly. “You meet women all the time.”
    “Jay, man, you’re not listening. This is different. I think this one could be ‘Mrs. Buchanan.’”
    Jason spun around to look at his friend. He saw the look in Mars’s eyes and knew that he was serious.
    “Ahhhhhhhh shit,” Jason said. “My brother looks like he’s already on the verge of buying the five-carat rock. Who is she?”
    “Keshari Mitchell,” Mars said.
    “Why does that name sound so familiar?” Jason said. Then his eyes bugged out. “You mean, the head of Larger Than Lyfe Entertainment?”
    “The one and only,” Mars said proudly.
    “DAMN-N-N-N-N,” Jason said.
    “I’ve never met anyone like her,” Mars went on. “I mean, she’s the most powerful woman in the music industry, but when we were alone…she was SHY, vulnerable, innocent even, and so-o-o-o-o damned sexy at the same time.”
    “Yeah, I’ve seen her in a few photos and I sat behind her at last year’s Grammy Awards. Many have said that ol’ girl makes Halle Berry look like your average, around-the-way girl. I’m jealous.”
    “She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” Mars said.
    “You’re GONE!” Jason laughed. “So, when’s the wedding?”
    Mars laughed. “It’s not that deep yet.”
    “You know, I don’t want to piss all over your good vibes. I’m always happy to see my bro find happiness. But there are a few rumors in the industry about your new paramour.”
    “I cannot believe that you’re about to try and feed me some industry gossip,” Mars said.
    “Nah, man, on the real, there’s been talk that Keshari Mitchell’s record label is a front for drug money, that she’s involved in organized crime on a MAJOR level.”
    “That’s ridiculous,” Mars said. “I don’t believe that shit for a minute and you know as well as I do that anytime a brother or sister achieves the massive level of success that Keshari Mitchell has in an arena that has typically been dominated by White folks… especially when this brother or sista didn’t resort to selling himself or herself out in the process of achieving success…the rumor mill becomes inundated with lies to try to character assassinate them. You KNOW this and I would think that you would be a whole lot more supportive of a sista making major strides in the industry, rather than becoming party to malicious gossip meant to tear her down.”
    “Yeah, you’re right, black,” Jason said, grabbing his duffle bagand keys. “Hey, I’m sorry. Just…be careful. Keep that third eye open.”

    “Always,” Mars said, giving his best friend a brotherly