The Choir Director (12 page)

She nodded, then stepped out of my office, no doubt rolling her eyes once her back was turned. Three minutes later, I was standing up to greet my future husband and the father of my unborn children.

“Trustee Wilcox, so nice to see you again. You’re looking well.”

You’re looking better than well,
I thought as we shook hands. “Nice to see you, too, Aaron. I’m glad to see you made it through the vote unscathed.”

“Thanks to you and the bishop. I heard you were instrumental in swinging the vote my way. Thank you, Trustee.”

“No thanks needed. Besides, you had nothing to worry about with the bishop in the room. Now, on another note, would you please stop calling me Trustee? I thought I told you when we first met that my name is Simone, at least when it comes to my friends. And I hope we’re going to be friends.”

“I hope so, too, Simone,” he said, letting the sexy back into his tone. “I was just trying to be professional.”

I’d like to give you a professional.

“I appreciate that, but I’m not like the rest of those stuffed shirts at the church. I’m pretty laid-back.” I paused for a moment to let him imagine me “laid back,” preferably naked in his bed. “Well, with that being said, I take it you’re here for the car that was promised to you.”

“Yes, ma’am. I thought I’d come down and pick up my ride.” He was smiling like an excited little kid.

I picked up my phone and dialed an extension.

A man answered. “Wilcox Motors, Willie speaking.”

“Willie, this is Simone. Do you have that burgundy Escalade ready?”

“Yep. It’s all prepped and ready to go.”

“Okay, I’ll be out with the owner in a minute.” I hung up and looked over at Mackie, who was still grinning. He looked so cute. “Well, your car’s ready. How’d you like to take a sister out for a ride and some dinner as payment?”

“I’d like that a lot.” He gestured toward the door. “Lead the way, fair lady.”

I got my purse and guided Aaron to the new-car prepping lot and our very first date.

I was on cloud nine as I drove down the Wantagh Parkway in Long Island toward Jones Beach. I still couldn’t believe I’d finally gotten the Escalade I’d been dreaming about for the past five years, and without one dime coming out of my pocket. I didn’t think life could get any better—until I glanced over at fine-ass Si-mone. She was sitting in the passenger seat beside me, rocking her head contently as John Legend played on the satellite radio. Out of the corner of my eye, I sneaked a glimpse of her long legs. They seemed to pour out of her red miniskirt, right into a pair of sexy red stilettos. Talk about the perfect accessory to a luxury vehicle. She was so beautiful I was almost afraid to approach her, but she’d been giving me that unmistakable vibe ever since we sat down to dinner a few hours ago. My instincts never seemed to fail me when it came to women, so there was no doubt in my mind that she was just as interested in me as I was in her.

The only problem was that I had to approach her carefully. Simone wasn’t one of those slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am church sisters I’d run into down in Virginia. No, she was in a class by herself, and putting aside the fact that she was the chairwoman of the board of trustees at my job and technically one of my bosses, she was closer to being girlfriend material than anyone I’d met in a long time.

“So, what did you think of the food at Costa de Espana?”

“It was good. I’ve had Mexican and Cuban food, but I’ve never had authentic food from Spain before. Same flair, but a different taste.”

“Uh-huh. I found that place about two years ago. I only take people I’m trying to impress.” She smiled, showing off the huge dimple in her left cheek.

“I’m honored, but you wanna know what really impressed me?” Even as I spoke, I was thinking about how I couldn’t wait to get her into bed so I could impress her.

She nodded. “Yeah, I do. What?”

“The fact that you speak Spanish so fluently. I know a few words, but you were having a full-fledged conversation with that hostess when we were leaving. It looked kind of intense. What were you talking about?”

“You.”

“Me?” I was used to women talking about me, but the fact that it was one as beautiful as Simone was flattering. “What about me?”

“She was asking me if I could get your autograph for her and her friends. Didn’t you notice there were a lot of people staring at us?” I shook my head. “Well, evidently, Mr. Mackie, you look like some Spanish soap opera star.”

“Get out. Really?” I was getting a kick out of this. “They say we’ve all got a twin. I guess mine is a Latin TV star.” I laughed. “You should have told me. I would have given them all an autograph.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. You’ve got enough going on with being First Jamaica Ministries’ choir director. I didn’t want you to get a big head.”

“I heard that, but the truth is I didn’t notice anyone looking at me because I was staring at you.” I lifted one eyebrow, giving her the patented Aaron Mackie smile.

She smirked. Clearly she was used to admiration from the opposite sex too. Still, she tried to stay humble. “It wasn’t because I had something stuck in my teeth, was it?”

“No,” I said with a laugh. “It’s because you’re a beautiful woman, Simone Wilcox.”

She blushed. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” I took her hand and kissed the back of it. “And I really am impressed that you speak fluent Spanish.”

Coyly, she said, “If you think that’s impressive, you should hear my French.”

I hoped she was telling the truth. Two foreign languages? There was nothing more attractive than a fine-looking woman with brains to match. This woman was sophisticated. She might be more than girlfriend material; I was starting to think she could end up being wife material.

“You speak French too?”

She leaned in close, placing a hand on my leg as she whispered in my ear, “Only when I make love,
mon amour.
”

“Oh my, my, my,” I sighed. Needless to say, all the blood in my body rushed to my groin. Thank goodness we’d just pulled into the parking lot of Jones Beach, because any more talk like that and I might have had an accident and killed both of us.

“So, where’d you learn to speak all these languages?” I asked as we got out of the truck.

“My best friend in grade school is from the Dominican Republic, so I learned Spanish from her. If you didn’t know how to ask for it in Spanish, you didn’t get anything to eat in her house. And I took French in high school and lived in Paris for a year when I was a college student, so I learned the language firsthand.”

“Amazing.” We began to walk down the beach.

“So, enough about me. Tell me about you. Who is Aaron Mackie?” Simone asked.

“That’s a good question,” I replied. “I guess deep down I’m just a country boy trying to fulfill his dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?”

“My major goal right now is to win a national choir championship and put First Jamaica back on the map; then I’d like to get a recording contract. Don’t take this as bragging, but I think I’m as good as Kirk Franklin and them.”

“After what I heard in the rehearsal room, I don’t think there’s any doubt about that. You really can blow.”

“Thanks.” We stopped walking, and she took off her shoes.

“So, have you always wanted to be a singer and choir director?”

“No, I never sang anywhere other than my shower until I was
a senior in college. Heck, I wouldn’t have even done that if I hadn’t been trying to run behind a girl who was in the choir.” I picked up a rock and threw it in the water.

“Wow, now that’s a pretty remarkable story. Where’d you go to school?”

“I went to the University of Virginia.”

“You went to UVA?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“No wonder I like you. My father went to UVA. That’s a hard school to get into. They rejected me, even with a legacy.” She stopped walking and turned to face me. “Boy, my daddy is gonna love you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Simone slipped her hand into mine, and we trudged through the sand, just holding hands.

“So, is that why you’re still single?” I asked after awhile. “Your daddy hasn’t approved of your men?”

I was playing with her, but she got a little attitude with me. “I’m a grown woman, and my daddy doesn’t have to approve of anything I do.”

I pulled her close and kissed her, gently yet passionately. Not a whole lot of tongue, but enough to let us both know the road we were going down.

“So, do you approve of that?”

“Mmm, I sure do, but let me see something.” She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me closer. This time she instigated the kiss. “Wow. You’re a really good kisser.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because most men don’t know how to kiss—at least not how to properly kiss a woman. You’ve obviously had some practice over the years.”

I grinned, but skillfully avoided her attempt to get me to spill about past relationships. “Well, if you thought that was nice, what do you think of this?” I pressed against her and kissed her as deeply and as passionately as I could. She offered no resistance. We were locked together as tight as Siamese twins, oblivious to any other people on the beach.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that before,” Simone said with a sigh when we finally separated.

She looked dreamy-eyed. I knew the look; I think I had it myself.

“I like you, Aaron. I like you a lot. And I might be making the biggest mistake of my life by inviting you over, but would you like to come over to my place for a drink?”

As a man, I’d learned that most women decide whether they’re going to sleep with a man in the first fifteen minutes. Likewise, I’d made up my mind I was going to sleep with Simone thirty seconds after she walked into the choir practice room and I saw her for the first time.

“Why are you afraid of inviting me over for a drink?”

“It’s not the drink that I’m afraid of. It’s what comes after the drink.”

“Nothing’s going to happen after we have a drink if you don’t want it to,” I reassured her, though I was pretty certain she wouldn’t try to stop me if I made a move. “No means no to me. I won’t do anything that you’re not ready for. Matter of fact, we don’t have to go back to your house. I’d be just as happy to go to a bar and have a drink with you.”

She shook her head and took my hand. “I want you to come to my house, and whatever happens, happens.”

Bingo! I knew how to read between the lines, and I eagerly followed her as she led me back to the car.

I was in my private bathroom, primping in front of the mirror in the sheer Victoria’s Secret peignoir set my husband had bought for me. He did that type of thing when he was in a good mood, and there had been a sense of elation in our house the past two days. T. K. had gone in front of the joint boards of our church and successfully secured the installment of Aaron Mackie as choir director for the next three years. It turned out that without Jonathan Smith leading them, the bishop’s detractors slid right back into the holes they crawled out of, just as James Black had predicted from his hospital bed. The vote ended up being overwhelmingly in Aaron’s favor, and a testament to the bishop’s control of the church. From the way he’d been humming and whistling around the house, T. K. was quite pleased with himself. He didn’t have a clue, but in a few minutes, I was going to show him just how pleased I was, too, if you know what I mean.

I sprayed my shoulder blades and my wrists with one of the most seductive perfumes I owned. Then, after one last glance in the mirror, I stepped out of my bathroom, striking a pose to model my outfit for my husband. He was sitting up in the bed with his laptop, working on his new book. He wouldn’t be working for long, though. I planned to seriously put it on him. We both had a way of communicating without words when we were in the mood, so when he looked up from his computer and spotted me, I was sure he heard me loud and clear.

He smiled when I spun around so he could see all that he was about to get. T. K. loved when I did my little stripteases. I’d wanted to take one of those pole-dancing courses they advertise in the local newspaper, but I was afraid someone might find out
about it and start some crazy gossip. I could hear all the rumors now about the first lady being a stripper and working in some club in Queens behind my husband’s back. Can you imagine the drama that would crop up behind that? I didn’t even want to think about it.

I strutted over to the bed. T. K. moved his laptop and I straddled him. He kissed me passionately, moving his lips down to the sensitive spot on my neck before lightly blowing in my ear. I purred as his hands cupped my breasts, kneading them through the silk nightgown. I let out a low moan as he moved his lips back to mine.

“I love you so much, Bishop T. K. Wilson,” I murmured, pushing him back gently. “I wouldn’t give you up for anybody in the world.”

“I love you, too, my wife. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to spend the rest of my life with.”

I kissed his neck and began to slowly work my way down.

“Mmm,” he murmured, sniffing my shoulders. I knew this was his favorite scent. “You always smell so good, and you look so beautiful in this nightgown. Is it new?”

I looked up, shaking my head at him. Men can really be a trip sometimes. “You know, it really is a good thing I love you, because the average woman would slap you upside your head, T. K.”

“Slap me upside the head for what?”

“Because this is the negligee you just bought for me and left in my office, that’s why. Did you even pick it out?” The thought of him sending Tia or another member of our congregation to pick out a gift infuriated me.

“I didn’t pick anything out, because I didn’t buy anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about, honey. I didn’t leave any negligee in your office.”

“Stop playing, T. K. This isn’t funny. You mean to tell me you didn’t buy this for me?” I sat up. “You know what? I’m starting to lose the mood.” Maybe that would make him tell me the truth so we could get back to business.

He gave me a stern look. “No, Monique, I didn’t. I wish I had, but I didn’t. Maybe one of the sisters left it for you. Did you do something nice for someone recently?”