Читать книгу Tender to His Touch - Adrianne Byrd, Pamela Yaye - Страница 13

When Lucius asked Beverly if she was ready to leave, he had meant to extend their evening by going to a nice jazz club or something. But he knew by the look that she’d given him that she had other things on her mind. And he was way too much of a gentleman to disappoint her. As they tried to maneuver through the crowd, Kevin Stayton cut off their escape path.

“Well, I don’t believe it! Lucius Gray!” Kevin declared, thrusting out a hand while simultaneously pounding Lucius on the back. “Nice to see you, you old dog.”

“Kevin, how are you?” Lucius greeted, though truth be told he’d rather put off their reunion for another time.

“I’m doing good.” He glanced around. “You know your old football buddy Terrence is here, too, but you might have some trouble getting to him through his mad fan club.”

“So I heard,” Lucius said. “Well, if you could excuse—”

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. You’re a lawyer, right?”

Lucius cast an apologetic look over his shoulder at Beverly.

“Don’t worry. I need to step into the ladies’ room for a few minutes anyway,” Beverly said with a teasing smile. “I won’t be too long.”

Lucius turned his attention back to Kevin. And though his old friend was delaying his power play, he kept his cool and concentrated on what was being said.

“Yeah, man. The CHRIS Kids Foundation is this great family program that keeps struggling families from collapsing, losing their children and becoming dependent on public welfare, mental health and juvenile justice systems. I was thinking maybe your firm could help them on this. Now, we couldn’t pay you much…”

Beverly smiled and waved her way toward the ladies’ room, but once inside, her smile dropped and she drew in a deep, exhausted breath. “Bev, do you have any idea what you’re doing?” she whispered to herself as she headed over to the long vanity counter to check her appearance. To her great pleasure, her hair was still fierce. Maybe she needed a quick touch-up on her lipstick. She opened her clutch purse and whipped out a pink tube when a weird hacking sound caught her attention.

She frowned. A toilet flushed and a second later, the door opened and an attractive woman in a black sequined cocktail dress stepped out with an awkward smile.

“Are you okay?” Beverly asked, looking at the woman’s reflection in the mirror.

The woman looked up and Beverly instantly recognized Tamara Hodges.

“Hey, Beverly. I’m fine,” she responded. “At least I will be in a few minutes.”

Beverly abandoned her lipstick touch-up and turned to face the pale woman. “Tamara, it’s so good to see you again,” she stated with a sincere smile. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Tamara nodded. “Time goes so fast. You were my first interview for the Atlanta Daily after we graduated.”

Beverly remembered, nodding. “You did a great job on the article, by the way—I don’t know if I ever told you.”

Tamara smiled. “You sent me a nice note thanking me. In fact, I believe I still have it.”

That was sweet, Beverly thought. Then again, Tamara was always such a sweet girl even though Beverly had always detected a quiet sadness about her.

Suddenly, she stopped smiling. Next she put a hand to her stomach and rushed back into a nearby stall.

Beverly frowned again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked a second time when Tamara walked out.

Nodding, Tamara responded, “My stomach is a little upset.”

Beverly had other suspicions. “I hope I’m not being too nosy, but are you expecting a baby?”

Tamara nodded sheepishly.

“Congratulations,” Beverly proclaimed with bittersweet tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “I—I’m happy for you.”

Lucius glanced toward the ladies’ room just as Beverly exited. Her smile had disappeared and she looked as though she was downright troubled. “Is something wrong?” he asked when she returned to his side.

“Uh, no. I just ran into an old friend.” She glanced over her shoulder, and then smiled back at him. “Are you ready to go?”

Lucius glanced at Kevin and, at last, the brotha seemed to pick up on the hint.

“I’ll holler at you sometime next week,” Kevin said, winking.

“Thanks, man.” Lucius looped an arm around Beverly’s waist and this time he managed to successfully escort her from the party. As they strolled out to his car, Beverly leaned her head against his shoulder. Something had changed and Lucius wondered if he’d have to take a rain check for their promised evening.

He whipped out the car keys from his pants pocket, and quickly opened the passenger door. “Here you go, mademoiselle.”

“Thank you,” she murmured and took her seat.

Once in, Lucius shut her door and then bounded over to the driver’s side. Another glance to his right and he knew he had to do something to recapture the moment. “You know those hors d’oeuvres were nice, but I could really go for something to eat. Are you game?”

Beverly pulled out of her reverie and, for a moment, looked like she was going to reject the offer, but then she apparently thought better of it. “Actually, I am a bit famished.”

“Great.” He started up the car. “Have you ever been to Sambuca?”

A sparkle returned to her eye. “I love that place.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s dinnertime on a Friday night—do you think we can get in without a reservation?”

Lucius winked. “Leave it to me. I know a guy.”

Sambuca, located in the heart of Buckhead, was one of Lucius’s favorite places to dine and dance the night away. On top of offering an eclectic American menu, the casual sophisticated atmosphere was hailed across A-town for the diversity of its live bands. On any given night, its patrons were treated to an evening of jazz, R&B or dance hits.

It was a jazz night, and the low, seductive lighting immediately aided the seductive mood Lucius was aiming for. However, the crowded ring of waiting patrons didn’t bode well.

“Yo, Lucius,” Spencer, the club’s host, greeted the moment he saw Lucius approach the host/hostess stand. “Long time no see. How have you been?”

“Working, you know how it is.”

Spencer tossed up his hands. “I hear you, man. Everybody is hustlin’.” He glanced over at Beverly and then gave Lucius a knowing wink. “Good to see you, um, testing the waters again.”

Lucius caught his not-so-subtle meaning and struggled to keep his grin from turning sly. “How long is the wait?”

Spencer glanced down at the crammed waiting list. “No reservation?”

“Last-minute decision.”

Spencer sucked in a long stream of air through his teeth and stroked this thinly trimmed goatee. “I don’t know. The walk-ins list is hitting about an hour wait time.”

Lucius reached into his pocket and handed over a couple of folded bills. “How about now?”

“Maybe thirty minutes?”

Lucius added a couple of more bills. “And now?”

“Fifteen minutes?”

“You’re killing me.” He handed over two more Grant bills, bringing the grand total to three hundred dollars. “My final offer.”

“Well, looky here. It appears I do have a table in section four available.”

“Section one,” Lucius corrected, wanting a table closer to the stage.

“That’s what I said,” Spencer said, grabbing two menus. “Follow me.”

Lucius returned his arm around Beverly’s waist as he escorted her behind Spencer.

The jazz band jammed John Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme” as they moved past the stage and then settled into to their u-shaped leather booths. He and Beverly sat pretty close at the bottom of the u.

“Here you go,” Spencer said, handing over their menus. “Your waiter should be with you in a moment.”

“Thanks, man,” Lucius said.

“Heeey—” Spencer shrugged good-naturely “—what are friends for?”

Lucius laughed, thinking about how much his friend just bilked him for.

Spencer winked, signaling that everybody had a hustle these days. “Enjoy your evening.”

He glanced over at Beverly and loved seeing the huge smile plastered on her face.

She leaned over and spoke into his ear, “I love Coltrane.”

Lucius perked at that statement. “Now what do you know about Coltrane?”

“Please. My father was a jazz aficionado. Coltrane was like a god in our house.” She laughed, thinking about the number of Saturday mornings she woke to the melodious tune of ’Trane’s seemingly magical saxophone.

Lucius nodded appreciatively. “A woman who knows her jazz. You’re starting to sound too good to be true.”

Beverly couldn’t help but blush at the praise and then fell into easy conversation about their favorite jazz artists, which morphed into who were their favorite R&B artists and so on and so on. Throughout the meal, Beverly kept marveling over how easy it was to talk to Lucius. There was something about his smooth baritone that she found comforting. She was convinced that she would be content just listening to him read the phonebook.

When another old favorite began to play, this time “What a Diff’rence a Day Makes,” Lucius adeptly read her face and offered her his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Beverly tilted her head. “Yes, you may.”

They stood together and waltzed over to the small dance floor before the band. As they’d done for most of the evening and now the night, the two glided into each other’s arms, their bodies fitting together perfectly.