The intonation and the timbre of his voice stopped her cold. No man had ever called her that before, and definitely not in such a seductive way. “The name’s Reggie,” she somehow managed to say.
“With me, it’s Gina. You’re a beautiful sexy woman, not a kid playing third base.”
His explanation made her so dizzy she swore she was going to keel over on the seat.
“So,” he continued as if the matter concerning her name was settled, “how much vacation time do you have?”
“A week.”
“That should be more than enough to do what needs doing.”
“But what if I want to use that time for something else?”
“What if your CD goes platinum and you can go back to school?”
Parts of her were screaming take the offer, but other parts, the Ms. Practical parts, couldn’t believe she was even considering something so life changing without a guaranteed safety net. Dream or no dream.
“Let the world hear that voice, Gina,” he implored softly. “It’s a gift you’re supposed to share.”
“Now you’re playing the guilt card?” she accused with a hint of humor.
“Whatever it takes,” he replied, looking into her eyes. “You’re a hard nut to crack.”
Reggie took in a deep breath. She drained the last of her coffee and set the empty cup in the holder by her side. She came to a decision. “Okay, I’ll do a demo, but I do it here in Detroit.”
That froze him. “Why?”
“I’m not risking my job.”
“Gina—”
“That’s my compromise. Take it or leave it.”
He studied the determination in her face. She was serious. “Okay, you win.” In reality, Jamal knew he’d won. Once he got her in the studio, he’d pass her demos around. More than a few recording companies were bound to be interested. “Do you have a particular studio in mind?”
“Yes.”
“Will it be able to give me the quality I’m after?”
“I think so.”
He really wanted to get her in a state-of-the-art sound studio, and hoped the place she had in mind was that. If not, he’d have to settle for fixing any insufficiencies in the demo once he got it back to L.A. “When do you want this to happen?”
“If you’re still going to cover the costs, I can do a demo while you’re in Rio.”
“No, I want to be in the studio with you.”
She studied him for a long moment. “Why?”
“Because to get it listened to by the people I’m shooting for, it has to be done in a certain way.”
“I suppose that makes sense, so okay.”
“Let me do Rio and then I’ll fly back here.” He stared at her for a long moment. “What?”
“You’re way tougher than you think you are.”
She smiled and looked out the window. From what she could see of the outside, they were almost at the hotel. “What time are you flying out?”
“Heading to the airport as soon as I drop you off.”
“Oh.” It was hard to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“But I’ll call you from Rio. Do you have to work tomorrow?”
“No, I have Sunday off.”
“Okay. I’ll try not to call you too late.”
Reggie knew he was probably wishing she were less cautious, but she was who she was. “I won’t apologize for who I am, Jamal.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’d just like for you to consider being who you are in a different way. The last thing I want is to force you into being someone you’re not. You’re pretty special. I don’t want to lose that.”
The soft response turned her upside down and inside out.
The driver’s voice interrupted her reverie. “We’re almost there.”
Reggie peered through the glass and could just make out the tall signature buildings of the city’s downtown complex through the blowing snow. When she turned back to Jamal he was watching her with a familiar silence. She inwardly admitted to being attracted to him in a way she had no business being. “Thanks again for the ride.”
“It’s been my pleasure.”
By then the Land Rover had pulled up in front of the hotel. When the driver stopped, Reggie reluctantly pulled on her hat and gloves and grabbed her purse. She didn’t want to leave, and sensed he didn’t want her to either, but there was no way around it.
“Take care of yourself,” he said.
She nodded.
The door was opened by the driver, but she and Jamal ignored it for the moment. They were too busy staring at each other. He reached over and gently traced her cheek. The intensity made her eyes close.
“Go to work before I kidnap you, Gina.”
And at that moment she would have let him. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined a man like him would walk into her life, let alone make passionate love to her in one. “You take care of yourself, too.”
But she didn’t leave. His handsome features, the faint notes of his cologne and the heat of his nearness conspired to keep her in place. As they drank each other in with a hunger that was unmistakable, the kiss that came next seemed inevitable. Their slow, unhurried, first taste of each other set them afire.
Jamal would have given everything he owned not to be in the backseat of a Land Rover because his desire for her was sharp and raw. He wanted to be someplace where he could make love to her in a way that slowed time.
Reggie knew this interlude would only hasten her downfall but she didn’t care. Every touch of his lips left her rocked and reeling. She slid her hand up to his jaw and gave him measure for measure, only to have him pull her closer and deepen the kiss.
Neither of them cared that the driver was still waiting, or that snow and cold was blowing in through the vehicle’s open door. Nothing existed in their world but need.
The driver cleared his throat loudly. “Ahem! Cold out here, folks.”
They paused, and reluctantly and slowly ended the kiss.
Jamal traced a worshipping finger over her passion-swollen lips. In response to the powerful moment, he whispered, “Wow.”
Breathless, Reggie smiled softly. “Ditto.”
He gave her one last lazy kiss, promising, “I’ll call you.”
Kissing him back, desire colored her voice. “Be safe.” She wanted another kiss but before she could succumb again, she scrambled out of the car.
Forcing herself not to look back, she hurried inside. Only then did she turn and watch the big black car take Jamal Reynolds out of her life. Ignoring the stares and surprised smiles from the staff who’d witnessed her arrival, she left the lobby to change clothes and wondered if this was how Cinderella felt when she had to go home after the ball and be her old self again.
On the flight to Rio, Jamal should have been listening to the new tracks his assistant Cheryl had sent him last night for critiquing, but he was stuck on Regina Vaughn. Her presence was haunting him like the notes of an unfinished song playing over and over again on a loop in his head. The kiss was still resonating. It was good that she’d hustled her little self out of there because there was no telling what might have jumped off. Him jumping her bones, probably. Probably not though. He sensed an innocence in her that made him think a man would have to go slow, and he found that to be refreshing in a world where meeting a person for the first time often led to a night in bed.
The appearance of the male flight attendant broke into his musings. It was time for breakfast in first class, so Jamal took the plate of bacon and scrambled eggs he was handed and placed it on his seat’s tray. Still, thoughts of Gina plagued him. Gina. Not Reggie. No woman with her looks should be nicknamed after a boy. If her family and friends wanted to continue calling her that, fine. To him, she’d be Gina.
Chapter 5
Trina missed work Saturday, citing the snow, but she did drop by early Sunday evening to have dinner at the Vaughn house. During the meal, she dropped a bombshell. She was quitting her job and moving t
o Atlanta.
Reggie was so speechless it took her a few moments to recover enough to ask, “Atlanta? Why?”
“Because one, I’m tired of the cold, and two, my cousin Paula just opened up a new shop down there and she’s going to let me have my own chair.” Trina came from a long line of beauticians on both sides of her large colorful family. “I can’t pass this up, Reg. You know how long I’ve been wanting to do hair full-time.”
She did. “You’re just going to pack up and go?”
Trina helped herself to another biscuit. “Yep.”
“When?”
“A week from today. I talked to Ms. Harold about it yesterday morning when I called to tell her I wasn’t coming to work.”
Reggie was quietly stunned.
Crystal said, “I think that’s great, Trina.”
“Thanks, Gram.”
Reggie asked, “How long have you known you were going?”
“Made up my mind yesterday morning when I couldn’t get my car out of the driveway. Went back inside, called Paula and told her to get that chair ready.”
“Isn’t that kind of sudden?”
“You study long, you study wrong. Speaking of studs.” She grinned at the segue. “How’d things go with Mr. Tall, Dark and Yummy?”
Reggie was instantly transported back to the kiss in the Land Rover but kept it to herself. “He wanted me to go to L.A. to do the demo but I talked him into letting me do it here.”
Trina’s response came from her heart. “You’re gonna blow those L.A. folks away, girlfriend. Guaranteed. And when you start making that long money, you can bring me in as your personal stylist.”
“Wouldn’t that be something?” Reggie asked with a laugh.
“Yes, it would.”
Crystal lifted her glass of milk. “To Dorothy!”
They all raised their glasses.
“And to her little dog, too!” Trina called.
The three women laughed loud and long.
Later, Reggie and Trina were in the kitchen doing the dishes when Trina asked, “So, what studio are you going to use?”
“You know who I’m going to call.”
“He is the best.” The he was Kenny Davidson, arguably the best producer in the city and Reggie’s old high-school boyfriend. “I really thought we’d get married and live happily ever after.”
“So did everybody else. Except Margo.”
“Yeah,” Reggie said tightly.
Reggie, Trina and Margo were the Three Musketeers from middle school until high-school senior year. Reggie and Kenny were a couple during those days, too. The four of them hung out together, went to movies, attended the games, even went to church together. Little did she or Trina know that Margo was the serpent in the garden.
During the summer leading up to their senior year, Margo made Kenny an offer he should’ve refused but didn’t. Margo got pregnant. Kenny’s father, Pastor Davidson, married them and the love of Reggie’s life became the husband of someone else. She never forgave them.
Trina could see the old pain rise in her best friend’s face. “Have you talked to him about the demo, yet?”
“Nope. Maybe I’ll just show up. Shock him into a heart attack.”
“You show up with Jamal Reynolds, and 911 will be called.”
Reggie loved Trina’s droll humor. “Haven’t seen him in a year or so.”
“Saw Margo and the two girls a few weeks back at the grocery store. She spoke. I spoke. I kept it moving. And speaking of moving, I hear you and Jamal were making some serious moves in the backseat of that SUV he took you to work in Saturday morning.”
Reggie laughed. “I’m pleading the Fifth. How did you hear about it?”
“Kissing a man in the backseat, with the door wide-open, in front of a glass-fronted hotel? I’m surprised people across the river in Windsor aren’t calling in.”
Reggie dropped her head.
“And for you, Ms. Modesty 2010, to be necking like somebody on a soap opera? He must have hit you with some kind of power.”
“No comment.”
“Uh-huh. Hand me that pot so I can dry it and we can get through.”
They shared grins in a way they’d done since they were nine years old. There was a lingering air of sadness between them, though, at the idea of Trina moving away; they’d been together almost two decades. What gave them solace was the knowledge that they were joined at the heart, and had been since the day Reggie first walked into Trina’s mother’s beauty shop and Trina offered her half of her bologna sandwich.
“Gonna miss you, girl,” Reggie confessed.
“Me, too. I expect you to visit. Unless you’re too busy singing for the president or somebody.”
“I’ll never be too busy for you.”
They shared a tear-filled hug and held each other tightly.
Later, as Reggie prepared for bed, Trina remained on her mind. Having a chair of her own had always been her dream and Reggie was happy for her, but it was hard coming to grips with her best friend moving away. The phone rang. Seeing Jamal’s name on the caller ID made her take in a deep breath because her heart was pounding like a jackhammer.
“Hey,” she said, hoping she sounded nonchalant. She walked over to the bed and stretched out on top of her old chenille spread. Just the thought of him made her sizzle.
“Hey back,” he responded softly. “How are you?”
Reggie thought he had an incredibly sensuous voice. She could listen to him talk all night, making her wonder if this was how people got addicted to phone sex. “Doing good. How’s Rio?”
“Not too bad. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No.”
“Did the driver come back to get you yesterday and take you home?”
“No, I called and canceled. One of the hotel’s waiters lives a couple of blocks over so I caught a ride home with him. No sense in wasting your money.”
“Gina?” He sounded both amused and exasperated. “What am I going to do with you?”
“What?”
“The car was prepaid.”
“Oh.”
“I have never met a woman who turned down a free ride home after a snowstorm.”
“Well, now you have.”
“And I’m going to be a better man for it, I think.”
She was enjoying talking with him. She’d enjoyed kissing him, too. “Are you having a good time?”
“Be better if you were here.”
The softly spoken confession rippled through her blood. “Stop that and just tell me who’s on the program.”
“Stop what?”
“Tempting me.”
“But I like it.”
“I can tell.”
“I think I’m losing my mind though.”
She turned over on her stomach. “Why?”
“Because I’m about to blow off the last two days of this concert and get back on a plane. I have never flown eighteen hours and God knows how many thousands of miles so I can see a woman I just saw yesterday.”
She went still. “Jamal, what are you talking about?”
“You, Gina. I’m talking about you.”
Before she could react, she heard an announcement being made in Spanish.
“That’s my flight. I’ll call you when I get to Detroit’s airport. Will you have dinner with me?”
Still confused, she said, “Yes.”
“Okay, gotta go.” And the call ended.
Perplexed, Reggie sat in the silence trying to wrap her mind around what had just occurred. Did he really say he was flying back to see her? She replayed the conversation, and each time the words came back the same. He’s flying back to see me! Her hands flew to her mouth. She fell back on the bed and kicked her heels on the spread like a joyous child, then sat up and pulled herself together. Mercy! She couldn’t believe this. More important, what did it mean? She didn’t have a clue. She supposed she’d have to wait until she saw him again. Grinning, she turned out the nightstand light and slid beneat
h the covers. Once again, thoughts of Jamal Reynolds kept sleep from coming right way, but when her eyes finally closed, there was a smile on her face.
Standing in the window of his hotel suite in Windsor, Jamal looked across the black ribbon of the river at the night lights of Detroit’s skyline. Twenty-four hours ago, he’d been in Brazil and now he was in Canada waiting for the cause of his abrupt return. Gina. Maybe she’d put a spell on him. He knew that was crazy but that was how he felt—crazy. Nothing had ever come between him and his music, ever. He’d gone to Rio to check out a local singer he was interested in working with in the future, but he hadn’t stayed at the festival long enough to hear her sing. Brazil had some of the most beautiful women in the world and he hadn’t looked at one. He hadn’t gorged himself on the fabulous food, hadn’t done any sightseeing. Nothing. All he could think about was Gina and seeing her again.
He turned from the window. Crazy. He’d known her, what, maybe a week? The longing and need to be with her whipsawing his insides was the stuff songwriters wrote about. No matter where his mind turned, Regina Vaughn was there. Because of his looks and who he was women came easy and often to Jamal, and in his younger days he’d taken full advantage. It quickly got old though. He grew tired of one-night stands with easy women who weren’t after anything other than what he or his money could do for them, so he pulled back and concentrated instead on his studio, the music and the people who made it. It was a good life. He was content working day and night, and had no plans to do anything else, until meeting Regina that day in his hotel room. Being around her had turned him from L.A. jaded to L.A. amazed. Her decency, kind spirit and no-nonsense blue-collar work ethic shattered his self-constructed paradigms. Most of the people he knew, given the choice between picking up an unemployment check or cleaning hotel rooms would have taken the check, but she’d chosen the latter and hadn’t looked back. To him, she was fresh air and sunlight, and he’d taken an eighteen-hour flight and changed planes four different times just to be near her. Crazy.
Rhythms of Love Page 6
