The Choir Director (14 page)

After an hour or two of getting busy, Porsche had me sleeping like a baby—that was, until about twenty minutes ago, when her warm tongue woke me up. I’m not gonna lie; I could get used to being woken up like that. Old girl really knew what she was doing with that tongue of hers. She sure proved she could do something with it besides hit the high notes in “Amazing Grace.” Actually, she had me about to hit a high note or two myself when my doorbell rang and broke my concentration.

Of course, the first person who came to my mind was Simone.

“You expecting company?” Porsche managed between slurps.

I didn’t answer her. I just pushed her gently aside, slipped on my boxers and robe, then stomped to the door. I was fuming. This Simone had a lot of nerve.

Without looking through the peephole, I flung open the door. “What do you want?” I snapped.

“Uh, I thought we were going to go to breakfast before we went to Long Island City to look at new choir robes.” It was Tia,
the church secretary and choir administrator. I was relieved it wasn’t Simone, but embarrassed by how I had opened the door and greeted her. “I called you before I came up,” Tia said, looking confused.

“Oh, my bad, Tia. I thought you were someone else.” I quickly closed my robe. Not a very professional way to greet the bishop and first lady’s right-hand woman. However, I had to play this off as though I were unfazed by her being there, catching me with my pants down … or, rather, off. “I thought we were supposed to meet at eight thirty.” I glanced outside and suddenly felt a little stupid. It was evident from the bright sun and the chirping birds that it wasn’t evening anymore. Porsche was so good she had me losing all track of time.

“It’s already quarter to nine,” Tia informed me.

“Jeez, is it that late? Where did the time go?”

“Yep.” She nodded, shrugging her shoulders. “I tried calling to give you a heads-up when I left my house, but you didn’t answer then either. I thought you might have been in the shower or something.” She looked me up and down, then smirked. “I guess you were still sleeping.”

“Yeah, I was knocked out. I had a late night.” I added a yawn and stretch for further confirmation.

She glanced around me. “Nice place you have there. Can I come in? I feel a little weird standing out here in the hall talking to you in your underwear and robe. We have a lot of church members in this building. People might get the wrong idea.”

“Sure, I’d love to invite you in,” I said without moving out of the way to let her pass. I turned toward my living room to do a quick check and spotted Porsche’s bra hanging over a chair. I turned back to face Tia. “But to be honest, I have company, and she’s not exactly decent right now. Is it possible for you to wait downstairs? I’ll be out in ten, fifteen minutes tops. I just have to take a shower. I’m a little funky.” I told you I was honest about these types of things from the get-go, but the way Tia wrinkled her nose at me, I realized I may have taken my honesty policy a bit too far.

God, I hope this woman isn’t one of the church gossips.

“Oh, I see.” She couldn’t even look me in the eye anymore.
Perhaps she was more embarrassed for me than I was for myself. “Take your time. I’ll see you downstairs.”

She turned toward the staircase, and I watched her hips swaying naturally as she walked down the hall. Once again, she was wearing a conservative skirt suit, trying to hide the phenomenal body God had given her, and once again the suit had failed her. I’d mentally put her on my “Women to Do” list when we first met, but now I was going to have to cross her off. No way would she give me any after this debacle. Had it been Simone, my chances with her still would have been good, because obviously she knew the game. After all, she tried to run it on me last night.

When Tia disappeared down the hallway, I headed back to my bedroom. Porsche was laid out across my bed as naked as the day she was born. The thought of jumping on her to finish what we’d started came to mind, but I quickly changed my mind. “Sweetie, I had a great time last night, but I’m late for work and you’ve gotta get on out of here.”

She looked offended as she started to gather up her clothes, but still she asked, “So, you gonna call me tonight?”

“We’ll see. Like I told you last night, I’m really not looking for anything serious. Only thing I can commit to right now is the choir. But I had a great time, and I’m sure we’re going to be doing it again.” I got a smile out of her, but I knew that was not what she wanted to hear. Telling her what she wanted to hear was what had gotten her here in the first place. Now I just needed her to leave.

I walked over and kissed her cheek. “Look, I’ve gotta take a shower so I can get outta here. You don’t mind letting yourself out, do you?”

Without waiting for an answer, I went into the bathroom and closed the door. I thought for a second that maybe I should let Porsche leave after me so she wouldn’t have to do the walk of shame past Tia outside. Then I realized that Porsche’s “friendly nature” was probably no secret to anyone in the church anyway.

I walked out the door of Aaron’s apartment building, shaking my head. It wasn’t any of my business, but my curiosity got the best of me, and I wanted to know if the person in his apartment was anyone I knew from church. Maybe, just maybe, he was pulling a stunt like our old choir director and had a man in there. I shook that thought off quickly. He’d specifically referred to his company as “she.” Besides, he’d been way too cool, calm, and collected to have been hiding a man in his place.

I couldn’t believe I was outside waiting for him to finish up his business. I didn’t feel like I needed to be there in the first place—at least I hadn’t thought so. When the first lady asked me to keep an eye on Aaron, I was skeptical about the entire chap-erone thing, but I guess she was right: Aaron really did need a babysitter … or maybe more like a bodyguard. But why did it have to be me? Sure, I loved the choir, but wasn’t I doing enough charity work running the church’s rape hotline? I mean, that was my real passion, although no one else seemed to care. No one ever asked, “Hey, Tia, how’s your ministry coming along?” Nope, to them it was no more important than a 1-900 dating line.

But enough of my complaining. I did understand that the first lady felt it was important to keep Aaron focused on the task at hand. And even though this morning had been awkward, I liked Mr. Mackie. He was intelligent, very funny, and a genuinely nice man, along with being a phenomenal singer. Oh, and as the first lady seemed to remind me on a daily basis, he was easy on the eyes. I just never felt comfortable around pretty boys like him,
which was probably the real reason I wished I could hand this chaperoning job off to someone else.

As I looked around, I had to smile. I hadn’t seen it on my way in, but there was Aaron’s new SUV. He’d told me how much he wanted an Escalade, and now he’d gotten it. I had to admit it was cute, and I’d never seen one in burgundy before, so it was different. It was a little big for my taste, but it suited him well.

I walked over to get a better look. Simone had really hooked him up.

Simone,
I thought.
Could it be? Maybe …
Perhaps she was the woman up in Aaron’s apartment.

I heard footsteps approaching me quickly. They couldn’t have belonged to Aaron, because even Superman couldn’t have taken a shower and gotten dressed that quickly. Instinctively, my hand slid into my handbag. I wrapped my fingers around the pepper spray I carried with me and turned toward the possible assailant.

“Hi, Tia.”

I released my hold on the pepper spray when I realized it was Porsche Moore making her way toward me with a nasty sneer on her face. I should have known it was Porsche up there—the girl that every man has ridden. The angry glare she was shooting at me spoke volumes. She was angry that I had broken up her little love fest this morning.

I shook my head. As fast as Porsche had gotten down those stairs from his apartment, she probably hadn’t even washed her behind. The least she could have done was fix herself up. Her makeup was smeared, her clothes looked wrinkled, and her hair was all over her head. Pitiful.

“Hi, Porsche,” I said sweetly, trying to hide my distaste for her actions. She was a straight-up whore as far as I was concerned. First Lady Monique was going to lose her mind when she found out, and there was no doubt she would, whether I told her or not. Along with being a whore, Porsche had a big damn mouth and had no problem telling everyone her personal business. Both her mouth and her legs were always wide open.

“You waiting for Aaron?”

Well, even if there had been a question in my mind about who was up in Aaron’s apartment, Porsche had just cleared that up.
I’m sure that was exactly her intent too. Like a cat, she was spraying her territory. I almost laughed out loud when I realized she was looking at me as her competition.

“Yes, we’re going to look at choir robes this morning,” I told her, making it very clear we weren’t there for the same thing. I could not have her thinking I was there for her sloppy seconds.

“Okay, well, it was nice seeing you, but I have to get to work.”

Without washing your ass? Oh, that is so nasty,
I thought as I watched her get into her Honda Civic. I had to laugh as I watched her pull out and spotted her license plate: I-PORSCHE. Why the hell would someone put
Porsche
on a Civic? Then again, why would someone name their child after a sports car they couldn’t afford?

About ten minutes later, Aaron came out of his building. I could tell from his damp hair and the fresh scent of soap that he’d taken a shower. More than I could say for that nasty-behind Porsche.

“Hey, why don’t we take my car?” he asked, approaching me.

I hesitated. After what I’d lived through and what I’d heard from other rape victims, I was slow to trust any man. What if he mistook me for one of these other skanks he was used to?

I think he could detect my hesitation. “I’ll bring you back and get your car.” He grinned good-naturedly.

I thought about it. He’d never made a pass at me. As much time as we spent together, he’d always been a gentleman. I probably didn’t have anything to worry about. Besides that, there was always my pepper spray. “Okay,” I relented.

It only took about five minutes to drive to the IHOP on Hillside Avenue per my suggestion that we have breakfast first. As we got settled in a booth, I looked over at Aaron and said, “So, I see you’re getting to know the sisters in the church.”

Aaron gave me this do-we-really-have-to-talk-about-that face. “Why is the conversation always about me? I’d like to know more about you.”

He managed to dodge that bullet.

“There’s not that much to tell.” I shrugged, staring out the window.

“Everyone has some type of story to tell,” he pressed. “Are you seeing anybody?”

“I’m kind of a private person. I don’t like to discuss my personal business,” I said.

“You seem really involved in the church.”

“I guess that is my life. Otherwise, my life’s kind of boring. I’m thirty-two and living with my brother, of all people. I used to be the church’s office assistant, but now I’ve been promoted to administrative assistant since the other office assistant was involved in that scandal they had at Jamaica.”

“Yeah, I heard about it.”

Obviously Porsche had had a chance to let some good old gossip fly out of her mouth before she put something unmentionable in it.

“I’m also a rape counselor at the church,” I added.

“Really? Tell me about it.”

I was surprised that he even wanted to hear about it. This was a first, and I was glad to share.

After we ordered our breakfasts of pancakes, sausages, and eggs, we were talking like old friends. Aaron was a great listener, and because of that, I didn’t mind talking.

“I’m not trying to get in your business,” I said, poking my fork at the remaining food on my plate. “That’s not the way I want what I’m about to say to come off.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron asked innocently.

“I just hope you used protection … you know, with Porsche.”

“Why? You saying she might have a disease?” Aaron looked frightened.

“That, too, but did you ever think she might want to get pregnant? Everyone knows about your salary.”

“Why would she want to get pregnant? She’s not married.”

I didn’t know if I should believe his question was genuine. No one could be that naïve, could they? “Plenty of women nowadays don’t care about having babies and not having a husband.”

“True.” Aaron wiped his mouth, then washed his breakfast down with a last gulp of coffee. “But no worries. I’ve always used condoms.”

“That’s good. You do realize that abstinence is the best policy
?” I didn’t want to seem self-righteous, but I’d been abstinent since my rape. I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss men, but I wanted God to pick the next man for me instead of me picking one for myself. My last choice didn’t turn out to be such a good one. As a result, I was determined not to have sex outside of marriage ever again. I can’t say I missed the pregnancy scares, and nowadays, there were so many diseases a woman could catch it was downright scary. Women like Porsche were really playing Russian roulette with their lives. Heck, even condoms didn’t offer foolproof protection from HIV. I remember quite a few of them breaking back in the day with my boyfriend. No, I didn’t feel like I was missing out on much, besides danger, by remaining abstinent.

Aaron clearly didn’t agree, because he ignored my last comment and started eating in silence for a while. For the remainder of the meal, we stuck to less controversial topics.

We finished our meals and had just climbed into Aaron’s SUV in the parking lot when I felt my phone vibrate on my waist. I glanced down, and right away I knew it was trouble.

The text message read: MS. TIA 911 BRANDI. HELP!

Brandi was one of my rape-hotline victims. Just a few months ago, I’d moved her out of the line of fire from her boyfriend’s drunken tirades. She, like most date-rape victims, wouldn’t press charges because she didn’t have anywhere to go. I got her some help and into a domestic violence shelter. Recently she’d found a job and her own place. Things had been going pretty well for her—until now, I suppose.