The Treble With Men

by Smartypants Romance

  I straddled the back of the bike and wrapped my arms tightly around him. It vibrated to life with a roar.

  “Ready?” He turned to yell at me.

  “I’m so ready.”

  He squeezed my thigh. We headed down the driveway and soon were on the mountain roads. The wind whipped my skin and the sun warmed me. I was fully alive. I rested my head on his back and smiled.

  My life was just beginning.

  THE END

  Acknowledgments

  I saw “The Phantom of the Opera” at the tender age of seven when my Aunt took me to see it in downtown Chicago. I was transformed. It single-handedly launched my love of musicals and misunderstood, brooding men. “The Treble With Men” was one of those books that I always dreamed of writing. The pressure to write a book that played homage to such a work of art was immense but I’m incredibly proud of this story and my own growth as I wrote it.

  To all the readers who endeavor to one day write your own story, please remember, when things get hard, put on good music and just keep writing. Write for yourself. And above all you MUST believe in yourself. Also, having an amazing support system is oh, so necessary. So here is mine that I must thank for this book’s existence.

  J.R., so many people talk the talk but few walk the walk. You, my love, walk the walk and how. Thank you for always believing without an ounce of doubt that I could finish this book. Thank you for politely and lovingly refusing to let me quit on that chilly October walk. Thank you for entertaining the kiddo so I could write even though you were just as exhausted. Thank you for losing sleep so I could maintain sanity. Thank you for the thousand other little sacrifices that go into unconditionally loving and believing in someone but that never get proper recognition. You are the reason I write love stories.

  Tracy, for some reason you still believe in me too – surely you must be getting tired of me. Thank you for the middle of the night words of encouragement when insomnia struck. Thank you for coming to my side, grabbing my hand, and pulling me from the darkness by sheer determination when I couldn’t find the strength to even stand. Thank you for always pushing me to be the best possible version of myself. This book owes so much to you.

  Pipe’s Peeps – though we be but small, we are fierce. YOU are my people and I’m so thankful for each and every one of you.

  To the Sharks of Awesome, who are totally Penny’s people, but who I found when I needed them the most and where I met so many strong, amazing, and hilarious role models.

  Rebecca and Michelle – you took this book and made it shine. I’m sorry I will never really understand how commas work.

  To the Smartypants Romance authors, including Brooke and Fiona. Can you even believe we are here again? It goes without saying that I would not be here without you all. You make me laugh when I need it the most. [Piper] You offer words of wisdom and encouragement as only those deep in the trenches can.

  Kelly, Layla, and Shannon – I hope you know what you mean to me. What is life?!

  And, of course, to Penny. We are all here because of you. Your love and kindness knows no bounds. I intend to spend the rest of my life paying forward everything you’ve done for us all. You are a gift to the world.

  About the Author

  Piper Sheldon writes Contemporary Romance and Magical Realism books that hope to be NYT bestsellers when they grow up. For now, she works as a technical writer during the day and writes about love the rest of the time. Of course she also makes room for her husband, toddler, and two needy dogs at home in the Desert Southwest.

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  * * *

  Read on for:

  1. A sneak peek of Upsy Daisy by Chelsie Edwards, Book #1 in the Higher Learning Series

  2. Piper’s Booklist

  3. Smartypants Romance’s Booklist

  Sneak Peek: Upsy Daisy by Chelsie Edwards

  Coming May 5th, 2020

  Fisk University

  Friday, August 15, 1975

  Daisy

  “Our father said the Washington Monument really does look like a hooded Klansmen up close. It even has beady red devil eyes.”

  Dolly’s voice came into focus along with the edges of a stately building. I’d mostly spent the last three hours trying to tune her out with varying degrees of success. She was a history buff and had spent the better part of the ride peppering me with facts about Fisk University.

  Did I know it was one of the first historically Black universities to be established? Did I know it was founded in 1866? Did I know Jubilee Hall was trying to get added to the National Registry of Historic Places? (I did … it’s almost as though I’d applied to go to school there or something.)

  Sensing my lack of enthusiasm over knowledge I already possessed she’d moved on to my father’s Washington, DC trip, and was giving me—at least I thought she was giving me his assessment of the tour of the National Mall he’d taken yesterday.

  My father was sore about missing move in day for my first year of college, but he was away at the National Association of Black Lawyers Conference in DC, and they were doing good work. Besides his being away was really a blessing. My sister Dolly was a nut, but my father would’ve been just a little weepy the whole ride.

  I turned more fully toward the big building I’d seen, and heard Dolly put the car in park and cut the engine. From the corner of my eye I watched Dolly’s head turn my way. “Oh that’s Jubilee Hall,” she said staring past me out the windshield toward the three story red-brick castle staring back at me. It had a black turreted bell tower and white framed windows.

  It was gothic, it was gorgeous.

  Jubilee Hall, my dorm.

  I get to stay in this fantastic old building. I get to be free!

  I imagined the high vaulted ceilings of the place, the wide open airy rooms it must have. I imagine myself walking across the quad, books in hand, headed back to my comfy room at the end of the day. Of course I’d have an amazing roommate who’d be my best friend and—

  THUMP-THUMP-THUMP

  I jumped a mile.

  Outside my passenger window a guy had appeared seemingly out of thin air. He was tall—so tall that I could only see his legs and mid torso until he stooped down. He was lean, with an athletic build. He wore charcoal gray slacks and a pale gold shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He wore a black and gold striped tie. Unlike most guys my age he wasn’t rocking an afro, he was clean-cut with a neatly trimmed facial hair and his close-cropped hair had a slight wave. Amber brown eyes were framed by thick, long coal lashes. The contrast between those eyes and the deeper chocolate of his skin striking. He was handsome. Really handsome. Really, really handsome.

  He smirked a little, just as I noticed I was staring. Dolly looked at me annoyed. “Roll. Down. The. Window.” Over enunciating each word the way she did when she thought someone was a bona fide dolt.

  He reached over to tap the window again as I reached for the hand crank to roll it down.

  “Freshman?” he said his voice smooth and untinged with the southern accent I was accustomed to.

  “I—uh—yes?” I said unsure of why my answer sounded like a question.

  He smiled and the ambient wattage went up.

  I mean honestly. He was a bit much.

  “Okay, well that’s Jubilee Hall dead ahead, you’ll want to stop by there first,” he said leaning back so both Dolly and I could see him.
“There’ll be a table set up out front for you to check in and get your dorm room assignment. Orientation’s at four thirty with your … parent? Or sister?” He winked and smiled.

  I gaped. He was shamelessly flirting with Dolly.

  I turned toward her expecting her to be indignant, and waiting for the dressing down— she ran a crew full of men and never took any mess from anyone—so I nearly fell out of my chair when I saw grinning, her fluttering fingers shooing him away playfully.

  Since when did Dolly do anything playfully?

  “Get out of here, you big flirt, and you best stay away from these poor freshmen girls.”

  He laughed. “Well I can’t stay away today. I’m here to help them all get situated. But I promise to skip the orientation.”

  “Trevor!” a disembodied voice called and Mr. Handsome turned around. He nodded his head and called back, “One sec,” to the voice before returning all his attention to me … I mean to us.

  “Well duty calls, but if you need any help don’t be afraid to ask. I’m here to serve, ladies.” His voice dropping at the end as he chuckled and backed away. Dolly was already wagging her fingers at him but she was hiding a grin.

  “Well he certainly was helpful,” I replied mildly.

  Dolly shot me a look. “Yeah, helpful like a viper. You mind me and keep away from that boy. He’s handsome as the devil and knows it. Young men like that prey on freshman girls all the time.”

  I nodded noncommittally as Dolly watched me from the corner of her eye.

  She needn’t worry. I hadn’t come to college to get entangled with young men. I had come for myself and had no intention of getting mixed up with the wrong sort.

  Who’s to say he’s the wrong sort?

  I dismissed the thought immediately. Guys that look like him were always the wrong sort.

  Trevor

  The girl in the yellow dress with the sunglasses on didn’t look familiar but there was something about her profile and her beautiful long braids that felt known. Like the edges of a memory I couldn’t quite bring into focus.

  My mind was probably tricking me into thinking I knew her because she was beautiful. Some primal urge to make her known to me so I could make myself known to her, but I definitely didn’t. I would’ve remembered that face.

  I frowned as my thoughts took a turn I was unprepared for. I wanted to know the shape and color of her eyes. Eyes were unequivocally the most alluring part of a woman. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely appreciated their faces, and their bodies … a lot. But there was something to the saying that eyes are the windows to the soul. Staring into someone’s eyes you could tell a lot about what they were and what they weren't.

  Her eyes had been hidden away behind those sunshades that should’ve and would’ve looked ridiculous on anyone else. They reminded me of a butterfly, as if one was perched on the bridge of her nose, but instead of looking silly she’d looked like some type of princess or fairy come to mingle with the common folk, completely unaware that we didn’t have the power to charm butterflies.

  Otherworldly.

  Yeah that was a good word for her. Everything about her screamed out of this world, and I was almost positive behind those wacky sunglasses hid an uncommonly pretty face.

  I shook my head, clearing away the unsettling vestiges of whatever this girl triggered inside of me. I dislodged the thoughts of the neckline of her lovely yellow dress, I peeled off thoughts of how pretty it looked against her pecan brown skin. I wiped away any trace of how that dress dipped into a little V in the front that stopped just above the good part, I ignored the way it teased and hinted at what lay underneath.

  I would give this girl no purchase in my mind. She was too beautiful. Greater men than myself had been made fools for pretty faces.

  And yet … I still couldn’t turn away. My eyes lingered in the direction of the sisters still sitting and chatting in the car, and they were sisters, the resemblance was more than uncanny. The older one looked the way beautifully aged wine tasted, well put together, balanced, mature, confident and full of flavor. It was like looking at what the pretty younger one would be in ten years’ time.

  I sighed, and instead of following the wild, sudden urge I had to run back to their car, to run back to her, to ask her name, to take those sunglasses off so I could see what would be undoubtedly pretty eyes, instead …

  I sighed again, and I turned to face the voice that had been summoning me.

  Julian P. Marshall, or Jules as we called him, was cutting across the parking lot toward me, sans his usual swagger.

  When he was a few paces away I noticed his expression morph into panic, and his steps stuttered to a stop. Ah, he’d finally spotted our student government advisor, Dr. Daniels, in the distance.

  Our advisor was a stickler for being on time and for community service. It was a quarter past ten, move in started at eight a.m., and us volunteers? We were supposed to have arrived at seven fifteen.

  “Was Dr. Daniels looking for me?” Jules groaned.

  I smiled and scratched my chin, pretending to think.

  “Was the advisor to the Student Government looking for the Student Body President this morning? Might’ve been. Something about it being so important for student leaders to show up and set an example for all the young impressionable minds coming in.”

  “God dammit!” Jules muttered scrunching his eyes in defeat. A look so bleak and troubled consumed his face, I almost felt bad about pulling his leg.

  Almost.

  Freshman move in was chaos as usual, Dr. Daniels most definitely had not been looking for Jules.

  “Luckily for you, the Student Body Vice President was here to represent the administration and to make us look good.” I motioned to myself.

  His eyebrows perked up. “So you covered for me?” His tone was so hopeful and grateful it saddened me … a little. Jules was my very best friend in the world. The fact that he still after all these years doubted my loyalty even a little bit made me want to take the joke even further.

  I’m awful, I know.

  “You know I did,” I replied keeping my face perfectly straight.

  He relaxed a bit.

  “I told him you couldn’t make it because you’d gone over to TSU last night to help with their freshman girls’ orientation and all the moving in and out you did.” I swiveled my hips just a bit suggestively and his jaw dropped open. “Wore you out! So I left you at home sleeping like a baby.”

  “You son of a—” He lunged at me playfully, as the realization that I was joking set in.

  “Hey, leave my momma out of this before I have to bring yours into it,” I warned as I danced out of his reach.

  He snorted and relaxed into a smile.

  I shook my head. Julian was so easy to rile up.

  “In all seriousness, no, Dr. Daniels wasn’t looking for you. He didn’t even know you were back till I mentioned it. I explained to him that you’d be by later today to help set up the office, and that you were tired since you’d driven the entire way up from Charlotte.”

  The trip from Charlotte to Nashville had no small amount of backroads. Jules was lighter than me by more than a few shades so it made sense for him to drive. No need to increase the chances of getting pulled over for being dark-skinned and driving a nice car. It was his car anyway.

  Julian wasn’t technically due to come back to school until next Friday with all the other upperclassmen but he’d pretended he was so eager to get an early start on setting up our office that he needed to come back an entire week early. That answer was of course, bullshit. He’d never admit it, but I knew he’d really done it because he knew I’d needed a ride back to school and didn’t want spend, or even have the extra money, to catch the bus or the train.

  “I skipped breakfast and I’m famished. You wanna head to Swetts to grab a bite before we get to work on the office?” he asked.

  I patted my pockets flat and looked at him exasperated.

  “Oh!” Jules said. “You
know I got you if—”

  I shot him a look that silenced him immediately.

  He held his palms up in concession. “Of course, let's just go help the freshmen instead, and then we can head to the caf when it opens in a few.”

  We turned in silence and began walking toward Crosthwaite Hall.

  Julian, like most folks, was a walking contradiction. Kindhearted, clueless, loyal, scholarly, and mischievous as the devil himself. The type of person who would drive seven or eight hours to get you where you needed to go and never ask for money for petrol or anything. But he was also the type to forget that you couldn’t do the same things that he took for granted all the time like randomly eating out at Swetts because you didn’t have the money.

  It wasn’t his fault really.

  Honestly. Compared to most of the folks we grew up around, Julian was basically normal.

  Jules was my third cousin, twice removed or my second cousin, thrice removed or something like that. Our great-grandparents were siblings. Whatever.

  Growing up I knew of the Marshalls. Folks in my family occasionally spoke of kin’ in North Carolina that was well off. But they hadn’t been to any family reunions or functions that I recalled, so I’d thought of them in the same way one thinks of rumors that your family was royalty back in Africa. Mighta been true, but probably wasn’t, and definitely wasn’t relevant to your day-to-day either way.

  Needless to say crash landing on their doorstep in the dead of night when I was eleven had been difficult. Crashing. Yeah that about summed it up.

  Because although we were allegedly related, our families were nothing alike. Our worlds were nothing alike. And in the beginning we had been nothing alike.

  For starters there were a lot of rules and most of them weren’t said out loud. You see, the Marshalls were not just well off after all.