Emanuel Woolfolk was an ass man.
So when he walked into Curley's Diner, he kept on past the women in the booth closest to the entrance without making eye contact with the one in the middle. And she was a cutie, too,—pecan with narrow eyes that closed as tight as an oyster when she laughed. Unfortunately, her friends had been talking loud and teasing the lady in the middle, and that told Man she didn't have what it took to be on his team.
"No disrespect, Renee, but the outside is a reflection of the inside," the pecan-colored girl had said.
"What's that supposed to mean, Lena?"
"I'm saying, you got all your goodies on display, girl. Of course, the brothers are gonna hound," Lena said.
The other girl, said, "Umm," took a french fry in her mouth and looked the other way.
"I think you’re jealous." Renee said and flashed a tricky grin.
"Sister, please. Of what?" Lena was smiling, too.
Renee ran her hands over her breasts to smooth her fitted top and said, "Because my body is righteous, and you ain't got no ass."
That had been a mighty powerful earful to Man, posterior aficionado that he was, and he had just walked on by...
