What's Love Got To Do With It? Is One Woman Enough? Is Love Enough?

By B.L Wilson

Kameron Mills, a love ‘em and leave ‘em stud, runs through women like water. Until she meets Ernestine Williams a successful restaurant owner. The older woman has a certain something that Kam cannot resist.

Ernestine has accumulated a history of failed relationships, attracting player-player, Romeos, and stud lover types who won’t commit to anything but adultery. Kameron seems like more of the same, but insists she isn’t, that she is ready to settle down with Ernie.

Enter Baby Kam, Kam’s baby girl from a previous relationship. Ernie falls in love with Baby Kam, but the two Kams are a package deal. Can Kameron prove her love and commitment to both Ernestine and Baby Kam and keep this budding family together? Find out in What’s Love Got To Do With It?

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.L Wilson
• Release date: Jul 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463669457

B.L Wilson

B.L. has always been in love with books and the words in them. She never thought she could create something with the words she knew. When she read ‘To Kill A Mocking Bird,’ she realized everyday experiences could be written about in a powerful, memorable way. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that knowledge so she kept on reading.Walter Mosley’s short stories about Easy Rawlins and his friends encouraged BL to start writing in earnest. She felt she had a story to tell...maybe several of them. She’d always kept a diary of some sort, scraps of paper, pocketsize, notepads, blank backs of agency forms, or in the margins of books. It was her habit to make these little notes to herself. She thought someday she’d make them into a book.She wrote a workplace memoir based on the people she met during her 20 years as a property manager of city-owned buildings. Writing the memoir, led her to consider writing books that were not job-related. Once again, she did...producing romance novels with African American lesbians as main characters. She wrote the novels because she couldn’t find stories that matched who she wanted to read about ...over forty, African American and female.

Book preview

CHAPTER 2: Going to Ernie’s for a decent meal & a very bad girl.

Ernestine Williams allowed the sun to wake her as she always did. That was why she left the heavy curtains made of maroon silk brocade with darker maroon decorative ropes with tassels at the ends wide open. The cream colored, gauze-like sheers behind the heavy, solid curtains allowed the bright sun’s rays to awaken her every morning. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and then fluffed her hair, or what she could of her short Rihanna-like bob. She sighed. She used to wear hair down to her shoulders in a long page boy cut, short in the front and shoulder length in the back. She’d changed to dreads, thinking that style would be less complicated. She discovered that style required hours of sitting still while somebody washed her locks, conditioned them, trimmed split and dead ends then relocked her loose ends. She easily spent all day and then some at the beauty shop. It was great if she had the time. She didn’t. She had a business to run. The beauty shop was a great place to hand her cards out and advertise her women’s bar & grille. Unfortunately for Ernestine, the hair treatments took too long. She finally had her beautician, Loreen Anne Townsend, cut off her hair.

Ernestine ran hands through her short, relaxed bob and smiled as she climbed out of her large bed. Loreen had talked her into holding a faux wake and funeral for her dreadlocks at Ernie’s Bar & Grille. They sent out e-invites and texts announcing the death of her locks. The e-invites and texts had an obit that mentioned how her hair would be dying from their dead roots. The painless death would be performed by the expert beautician, Loreen Anne Townsend, also known as LA Townsend.

Folks could come and watch the cutting performance live at LA’s Beauty Shop or they could catch the dreadlock removal on LA’s Beauty Blog and Ernie’s Bar Happenings Newsletter, which usually videoed newly created foods and drinks or semi-famous or infamous guests that showed up enjoying the bar’s restaurant menu or on the bar’s dance floor. After the dreadlock removal and celebration of Ernie’s new do, the wake and funeral for the dreadlocks were held at the bar and grille on a special ladies’ night. Both businesses benefited from the internet ads, live videos, and the actual faux wake and faux funeral. The entire two-day event was a great deal of fun too.

She slipped into a short silk robe over a plain, knee-length silk nightgown that looked an extended tank top she’d left on one of two armchairs in the room. She looked around her bedroom with a wider smile than her hairdo caused. She liked soothing colors mixed with bright ones. She selected pastels throughout her home. Nearly all the wood and plaster trim in her old Victorian house was painted either eggshell white, creamy white, or stark white.

Here in her bedroom, she’d chosen yellow trimmed in stark white. The yellow walls made her maroon, olive green, deep purple, midnight blue, and gold paisley brocade drapes pop and sizzle, as did the different solid-colored pillows that matched or blended with the paisley draperies. Her armchairs were covered in the same shades of pillows and her summer and winter bedspreads were of the same blended shades too. The soft shag rugs under her feet were tweeds or blends of the same colors. The floors her bedroom rugs covered were decorative parquet wood. Some of the wooden floors throughout the house had intricate border designs or the floors were old-fashioned tongue and groove wooden floors.

She inhaled and then exhaled. She loved her home. Frazer Townsend, who was LA’s brother, kept it in shape. LA recommended him years ago as a guy good with his hands, who loved to tinker and clean. Frazer was her combination housekeeper, cleaner, and handyman. He came once or twice a month to clean and repair whatever she needed fixed. He’d more than proven himself as a lifesaver, saving her pipes from freezing when the damned boiler he’d been telling her to replace finally broke down during a late winter cold spell. He kept her floors in excellent shape, stripping them then waxing and buffing them. One of the projects he and his two sons worked on two summers ago was repairing and replacing floor areas throughout the house, starting from the attic and working downward and finishing at the cement foundation’s floor in the basement.

On Frazer’s recommendation, she’d hired a good plumber who had modernized the all plumbing. Again on, Frazer’s recommendation, she’d hired an electrician to upgrade the electrical systems throughout her house. She considered Frazer Townsend a true godsend for her home and her wallet.

Frazer built her a clothes organizer made the wood scraps left over from patching the floors. It was beautiful and looked more like a piece of artwork than a place to store and organize clothes and shoes. She wanted to act, look, and smell like the professional owner of a successful business. She opened her closet to sort through one of many skirt suits and dresses hanging there. Once she selected an outfit, she’d match it from a selection of shoes, ankle boots, boots, and heels, and of course her handbags had to match too.

Today, it was supposed to be a little cool outside. She groaned, realizing it was time to shop for paper goods and plastic utensils. While she was away from the bar, she might window shop for restaurant and bar furniture too. She selected an apricot dress with a matching sweater jacket, contrasting chocolate-brown heels, and a matching purse. She grabbed a pair of sneakers and shoved them into her canvas tote. She’d bring a couple of disposable suits to protect her dress clothes too. She hurried into the bathroom to shower. She wanted to arrive at the bar early, to set up her day before she went shopping.

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Bianca Maria Cortez-Munoz kept up the steady pace as she jogged around the track inside the park. She loved the quiet beauty of the state park this early in the morning. If she arrived at sunrise, the park had very few joggers or any other exercise nuts. The view from any way around the park’s perimeter was spectacular. The eleven-block park sat over the Hudson River. She could see the sun rising over the Palisades and painting everything honey-golden if she looked north. Going further north, and she could see the George Washington Bridge expanding from 181st Street in upper Manhattan across the Hudson River over to New Jersey. The Jersey shoreline with its recent housing boom of high-rises and residential homes was beginning to resemble Manhattan’s building-laden skyline. Rain or shine, the stunning views of the New Jersey shoreline always delighted her. She’d study them for a few minutes while she gasped for breath or while she was doing her warmup exercises.

She unclipped the water bottle she wore on her belt without stopping and took a deep gulp, then poured a little on her sweaty face and neck. She felt better now. Before her mini-bath, her face felt red-hot. She dumped the remaining contents of the water bottle on her head. She could easily refill it using one of the many water fountains spread throughout the park.

Have a good run today, Bianca remarked, nodding to a few regulars she knew were beginning their morning runs as she was ending hers. She shook the water out of straight black hair that was shorter on the sides and longer on top. Then she ran her hands through her hair, slicking it back from her face. Hands on her hips, she watched them begin their runs for a long moment before she decided to fast-walk home. Home was an apartment on the seventh floor of twenty-plus-story building on 140th Street between Riverside Drive and Broadway.

She fast-walked the five and half blocks between the park and her building. She swiped her key card to open the main entrance door. She walked through the lobby area and over to the bank of elevators. She could take her time soaking in the tub this morning. She didn’t have any early morning clients. She’d promised Ernie she’d stop by the bar and help her unload supplies as she always did on Wednesdays. They had been lovers and then friends when the love thing didn’t work for nearly twenty years.

She entered her apartment, walking by the living room and dining room to the kitchen for more water and to turn on the coffeemaker. She checked the fridge to see if she had eggs, peppers, and onions for an omelet. She found what she needed. She spotted a half loaf of cinnamon and raisin bread. Hmm, for nice toast, she mused, pulling off her damp gray sweatshirt but leaving on her saturated red tank and her gray sweatpants until she reached her bedroom.

She did some jumping jacks and more body stretches in her living room on the yoga mat she’d set out before she left for her daily run. She spent twenty to thirty minutes on the mat, working up more sweat. Whew! she muttered, removing her red tank top and using it to wipe her saturated face, under her dripping armpits, and the wetness rolling down the valley between her breasts. She went back to the kitchen for more water to make sure she was hydrated before she showered.

An hour and a half later, Bianca was on a subway train heading downtown to her friend’s bar. She’d completed her morning exercises. She’d eaten a filling breakfast. She’d gotten dressed in casual clothes. She wore gray jeans, a hip-length, flannel-lined gray jeans jacket, a pink cotton long-sleeved T-shirt, and gray hiking boots. She carried a single cross-strap black and gray backpack with her keys, cellphone, a bottled water, a couple of current newspapers, pens, pencils, a notebook, and a small laptop. Her wallet, she always carried in her slacks or an inner breast pocket of whatever jacket she wore. She walked down the cement steps, swiped her Metro card, and headed toward the rear of the station. She selected a car at the back of train because she knew it would be empty or nearly empty. She was right. She found a seat, sat down, and pulled a newspaper out of her backpack to read.

Ernestine Williams phoned her accountant and best friend who should be inside the bar doing prep work as they sometimes did on Wednesdays, hours before opening. After she parked the van in the nearly empty lot behind the bar and grille next to the rear door. I’m at the back door. Let me in, I got stuff in the van. Help me unload it, B-Ana.

Not a problem. Let me turn off the alarm. If it’s a lot of stuff, back the van up to the door and I’ll get a cart, Bianca remarked.

Great idea. Please bring the hand cart with you, Ernestine responded as she slipped into the van. She turned the van around, reversed and parked in front of the rear door, then waited for Bianca to open it.

Bianca opened the rear door and walked outside with the hand cart. She studied Ernestine as she stepped outside the van’s driver side. Her cheeks puffed out with laughter when she saw Ernestine’s outfit. She wore disposable white coveralls made of plastic-like fabric that made her look like an astronaut or an escapee from Ghostbusters. I should take a picture of that outfit and frame it for over the bar. As a woman who prides herself on looking feminine as possible with skirts and dresses that show off your legs and your bosom, you’d never live it down, she teased and finally let loose with from-the-gut laughter.

Ernestine’s eyes narrowed as she cut her eyes at her good friend. Ha! That’s so evil. Do that and I might think very hard about finding a new best friend and definitely a new accountant for my business. She watched Bianca walk around her to the van’s open doors with the hand cart.

Bianca wore a workshop apron and heavy gloves to protect her hands as she loaded the boxes of paper goods and plastic utensils. The boxes weren’t small. They weren’t lightweight either. She used to wonder how Ernie managed load all the boxes in the van alone. She went shopping with Ernie and learned that Ernie always had helpers loading the heavy boxes and packages.

All Ernie had to do was wink and blink a little and wiggle those hips of hers, and the guys working in the stockroom fell all over each other to help her. It was the same in all the stores she shopped; the stock guys ran around like busy worker bees around the queen bee. This afternoon was no different. Ernie always pulled on the jumpsuit before she left the last store, in case nobody was around to help her unload the van when she got back to the bar.

The two women looked around the van when they heard two car doors slam. They watched Cookie and his two assistant cooks climb out of their ancient but well-kept Honda Civic. The three men walked quickly over.

Miss Ernie, Miss Bianca, we can help with supplies, Cookie the head chef remarked, coming over to look inside the van. Please go finish your prep work. The guys and I can handle this.

Why didn’t you tell us you were doing unloading supplies today? Timmy the first assistant cook asked.

It’s not a problem, Miss Ernie. We don’t mind helping you or Miss Bianca, Rory added.

Ernestine smiled at her kitchen staff. Thanks, guys. Put all of it in the storage room. I’ll sort it out later after I check the counts. She headed into the building and to her office.

Bianca wiped at the invisible sweat from her brow and started laughing. You guys don’t know how many backaches you just saved me. Thanks, guys. See you inside. She followed Ernestine into the building. She walked quickly to catch Ernestine as she hustled down the long hallway and into her office. Hey, slow down, Ernie. What’s the hurry? She glanced at the clock on the office wall. We have plenty of time before you open the joint. She watched Ernestine put her tote bag in the office chair. Ernestine pulled the zipper down and then stepped out of disposable suit.

Bianca winked at Ernie then ogled the apricot dress with its perfectly matching sweater. Whoa, nice outfit. That’s more like the Ernie I know and love. She glanced at Ernestine’s sneakered feet and frowned. Except for those sneakers. She spotted the tote bag sitting in the chair and grabbed it. She looked inside and pulled out the brown heels. Sit down and I’ll put your heels on.

Ernestine studied Bianca, staring into dark eyes as she sat in her office chair and held a leg out. No feel-ups, B-Ana. Just put on my heels, okay?

Ah, but I love touching smooth woman skin. You have some of the smoothest I’ve ever encountered. Bianca slipped a shoe on Ernestine’s right foot. Her hand rested on Ernestine’s knee. For a moment, she was tempted run her hands up and down shapely milk-chocolate legs.

Ernestine sighed. And you have more bullshit dripping out of that sexy mouth of yours than I’ve ever encountered. Don’t even think about what I can read in your eyes that you want to do. She watched Bianca grin broadly then wink at her. She leaned down to grasp Bianca’s chin. She ran a finger across soft lips. You know as well as I do why we wouldn’t work. We tried it years ago. I’ll be damned if I’ll ever try again with you!

Bianca cut her eyes at Ernie then groaned as she slipped a heel on Ernie’s left foot. Yeah, I know. I know you’ve heard it all before. She rose and brushed off her jeans. I guess it’s time to start setting up the dining area, right?"

Right. Gimme forty-five minutes in the storage room and the kitchen pantry. I’ll be out to help you. Ernestine studied her dear friend for a moment, wondering if she was lonely too. It had been years since either one of them had a real date that involved intimacy in the bedroom. They were honest with each about that and other things. It was probably what kept their friendship going.

CHAPTER 3: Meeting Ernestine for the first time.

"Hey Cuz, wake up." Andrea shook her cousin’s shoulder. She grinned at her sleepy cousin’s face. At thirty-five, Kameron still looked like the chubby little five-year-old kid who followed her around when she was nine. Back then, she found it so annoying. Now Kameron had her own place and a very good job as an equipment maintenance and repair subcontractor with St. Sebastian Hospital. She was a workaholic. But Kam was also an unrepentant Lothario. How Kam managed to fit sexing the ladies into her crazy work schedule was a mystery.

Tonight was just a routine time in her cousin’s sex life and so she obviously did find the time. When they went out together as they sometimes did, femme women went crazy for her cousin’s light eyes and her own tall, muscular build.

Come on, Kam, I know you’re gonna change clothes before we go to this place of yours. Andrea watched Kameron sit up and rub sleepy eyes.

You still have a couple sets of my stuff at your place, right?

Are we still cousins?

Yep.

Do we still hang together?

Yep.

Andrea grinned at her cousin. Then, yes. I still have three or four sets of your street clothes, your uniforms, a couple of suits, and some shoes too. I locked up already. I’ll be upstairs showering and changing. Come through the back way. The door will lock automatically. She strode out the door.

Kameron sighed. I know. You can set the alarm from upstairs. She yawned and then rubbed her eyes again. She rose and hustled after her cousin. Hey, Cuz, slow down. Wait for me.

So walk faster, Kami.

Hey, Andy, slow down. I’m not as tall as you. My legs aren’t long as yours, Kameron whined as she always did whenever Andy strode ahead of her. She’d been saying that since they were kids.

Andrea groaned, turned around completely, and signaled her cousin to hurry the hell up. She clapped her hands to encourage her slow-moving cousin to hustle. Let’s go. Let’s go, Kammy. We got places to be. And many women to see tonight, according to you, she remarked with more than a bit of sarcasm.

It’s gonna be great. I have it on good authority it’s a decent place to meet folks. You know, some wine, some fine women, and some songs too.

"There it is Andy! Kameron called out, bouncing up and down in the passenger seat. She pointed to the neon sign that read Ernie’s Bar & Grille with the rainbow below it. Excited now, she tapped on her cousin’s right arm several times then pointed to the obvious. Make a U-turn at the corner. Pull into the parking lot right there."

Christ, Kammy! Could you just tone it down a notch? I’m not blind. I see the damned lot. I’m driving, so I damned know how to get over there! Andy fussed at her cousin as she made a left at the green turn arrow.

Kameron rolled her eyes heavenward, sucked her teeth, and blew out her breath. Shit! I was just trying to help in case you missed it. Tonight was gonna be so good. She could feel it in her bones.

They drove around the lot, parking in one of the five empty spaces remaining. They walked into the lobby, which had comfortable-looking bench-like couches that lined perimeter of the area. A hostess, dressed in a navy above-the-knee skirt, a white pleated blouse, and navy heels, walked over to them. She looked at Andrea first, then her eyes settled on Kameron, and she smiled. Good evening, Ladies. Are you here to order takeout or would you like to eat here?

Kameron looked at the hostess, taking in her coordinated outfit with a special focus on how the hostess filled out the blouse and the snug pencil skirt. She issued a wide grin and a sexy wink. Hmm, I want to eat here. Right, Andy? She moved closer to the hostess. What’s good? What do you recommend I try? What are your specialties?

The hostess stared into large, pretty eyes. Once you’re seated, tell your waitstaff person you want advice from Penny. I’ll come over and help you interpret the menu if you still need it.

Kameron’s smile grew wider before she asked, keeping her voice low and soft. And you’d be Penny, I hope?

That’s right. Penny nodded with a dimpled smile.

Kameron stepped even closer to Penny. I love navy blue on a woman. I love a woman with dimples even more. I always wonder if she has dimples in hidden places. Then I wonder if she’d let me explore to see if I could find them. She watched a blush creep up Penny’s beige neck. Hmm, you look heavenly when you flush.

Andrea stepped over to warn her cousin, Better let her do her job, Kameron. Somebody behind her is frowning and looking annoyed. It might be the manager or her supervisor. She cleared her throat then in a loud voice, she exclaimed, Thanks, Miss. We’ll keep your meal suggestions in mind when we order. Right?

Kameron nodded then stepped away from Penny. Oh yes. We absolutely will order large tonight. We’re starving. Very hungry for something special.

Penny caught Kameron studying her again with a look that gave hunger a new meaning. She used one of the menus in her hand like a fan to cool her sudden hotness. She reached underneath the hostess desk for a hand-held alarm to notify a customer of an order or a vacant seat. She reset the alarm then handed it to Kameron. It’s Kameron or would you prefer Kammy? I need a name to register your device.

Whatever you prefer, Pretty Lady, Kameron remarked, using a finger to stroke the top of Penny’s smooth hand.

Andrea cleared her throat in a useless attempt to obtain her cousin’s attention. Put under my name. It’s Andy. We’ll be outside. She slapped a hand on her cousin’s shoulder then pinched her neck and forced Kameron to follow her back out the front door.

Kameron wiggled away from her cousin’s strong hand to rub her shoulder then flex it and soothe her neck. Shit, Andy! What the hell was that for?

Andy grabbed her cousin’s arm and spun her around on the sidewalk to face the restaurant. Look, Ms. Sexpot! Penny is getting reamed out by her boss. I just hope she doesn’t get fired too!

Kameron noted a woman had taken Penny the hostess to a side area, still visible through the large picture windows. She whistled softly in admiration. Whoa! She looks even better than Penny, like a juicy plump apricot. What do you think her face looks like? Do you think her face looks as good as her ass, Cuz?

Andrea groaned loudly in disgust. Do you ever stop doing that shit?

Nope. I love women too much to stop. Kameron was determined to see how the woman’s face looked, but the woman never turned around. Instead, the woman marched into the dining area or maybe the bar. The ad said there was a dance floor too. The shapely woman could be there as well. Oh-o-o, baby, baby. I love looking at your ass walking away from me. Now I wanna see your face and your breasts walking towards me. Then I want to know your name, Kameron sang until the woman disappeared further into the building.

Did you hear what I just said? Andrea asked, popping her cousin’s forehead with flick of her thumb and middle finger.

Kameron grunted, rubbing her forehead but continuing to stare where the apricot woman disappeared. I’m gonna find out her name if it kills me.

Let’s just make sure your quest doesn’t get Penny the hostess fired tonight.

Kameron grinned. I’ll go see her boss once this thing rings. She shook the hand-held alarm system at her cousin.

Promise me you won’t start anything with the apricot woman.

How can I promise that? I have no idea how attractive she might be until she turns around, huh?

Andrea shook her head. You are kidding, aren’t you?

Kameron walked over to sit down on one of the wrought-iron benches and tables placed close to the entrance and around the sides of the bar and grille. The nights were growing cooler, so most of the tables and benches were empty. Nope, I’m not. With a backside and legs that fine, her front must be fine too.

Andrea walked over to join Kameron on the benches.

The two cousins sat watching folks, families with kids mostly, entering the restaurant. They both eyed the women. Several all-female groups of women walked inside carrying colorful shopping bags. One of the women dropped a shopping bag full of party hats and cute party gifts at their feet. Oops. Sorry about that.

Let me help you with that, Andrea remarked, stooping down to pick up the party hats and goody bags. She noticed the woman smiling at her when she looked up. She picked up all the party hats and goody bags and returned them to the shopping bag. She stood up, discovering the woman was tall but not as tall as she was.

Hmm, you’re tall, the woman said, accepting the shopping bag from Andrea.

I guess. Those things look like party favors. Where’s the party?

Aw, darn it. We thought you two were the stud strippers we hired. If you’re asking where the party is, you aren’t them.

Her friend walked over to help and ended up dropping her bag on Kameron’s feet. Oops, sorry. Let me pick that up. Don’t move. She knelt then used Kameron’s knee for support. Mmm. Cute and sturdy too. She looked up into hazel eyes. You have very pretty eyes. My friend and I noticed you and your friend sitting out here. We’re having a bridal shower in one of the party rooms. Your friend is very handsome. You’re very cute too. We thought you might be the strippers we hired. She studied Kameron’s chubby frame and winked. We like stud boyz.

Kameron grinned. Her eyes took in the woman’s short, tight, black leather skirt and her matching moto jacket with all the zippers. The unzipped jacket revealed a low-cut lime blouse. I love me some girly girls. Especially when they look like you. She reached out to play with one of jacket zippers that ran diagonally across a breast. She pulled on the zipper then stuck fingers inside. Is this a real pocket? The woman moaned softly when Kameron’s fingers stroked a soft nipple through the fake pocket fabric.

Mmm. You’re very hands-on, aren’t you?

Do you like it like that? Kameron asked, leaning over and ready to kiss an attractive stranger.

Hey? Not so fast. The woman shifted away and then placed a hand on Kameron’s sturdy chest. She found an opening in Kameron’s jacket and wiggled a hand inside to play. She caressed Kameron’s right breast then her left breast. Hmm, even if you aren’t a stripper, I’d want you to strip for me. She pulled Kameron closer then let Kameron kiss her. She groaned when Kameron sat down on the bench and pulled her onto sturdy thighs.

Meanwhile, Bianca happened