You Sang to Me

by Beverly Jenkins

  “If you have the time, we can drive up there now. It’s only a thirty-minute ride and my afternoon’s free.”

  Tasha wanted to take him up on the offer but didn’t want to impose. “You sure you don’t have anything else on your schedule?”

  “Positive. I’m not due at the club until six.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s only two now. Won’t take long to run up there and back.”

  “Okay. Let me make a quick change of clothes and we can go.”

  CHAPTER 4

  On the ride to the small city of Carson to check out the field, Tasha sat in the passenger seat of his truck and looked out at the passing scenery while smooth jazz flowed sweetly from the speakers. Even though they were beyond the city limits, there was very little green space. Concrete bridges and highways dominated the landscape. They were heading west and she felt like a college freshman on a first date with an upperclassman—a little nervous and a little giddy, all of which appalled her considering her age and life experience. She supposed it had to do with the challenge that had offhandedly manifested itself between them. He didn’t appear bothered or anxious or any of that, probably because his drop-dead good looks were a challenge to women worldwide.

  Breaking the silence, he asked, “So, what was it like growing up as a Bloom?”

  “Economically, great. Personally, not so much.”

  He took his eyes off the road to look her way. “What do you mean?”

  “I was alone a lot. My mom and dad traveled most of the time I was growing up, so I was looked after by nannies, au pairs and sometimes my grandfather.”

  “Did you ever tell them you were lonely?”

  “No, Blooms don’t whine. I knew they loved me, but it seemed like they loved each other and traveling together more, if that makes any sense.”

  Drew’s raising had been quite the opposite. His mother played board games with him in the evenings, helped him with his homework and sat beside him in church every Sunday. They took trips to the zoo, shopped for a real Christmas tree each holiday season and on Saturday mornings she always made waffles for breakfast. She didn’t loosen the reins of raising him until he entered the eighth grade and went out for sports. Even then she kept an eagle eye on his life, came to as many of his games as she could, continued to attend every parent-teacher conference and twice got the time off to chaperone school field trips. Most of the parents at his church were equally involved with their children, and although he’d secretly envied the boys in his crew who had dads, his mom raised him to be the man he’d become, and he missed her every day.

  She went on to say, “I used to wonder how it felt to be that much in love. Mom’s eyes would light up when he walked into a room, and his did the same when he saw her. To be honest, I sometimes felt like they didn’t even know I was there, their connection was so strong.” Her eyes were questioning. “Ever loved someone that hard?”

  “No. Thought I was in love with my exes at the time we were together, but no. It wasn’t love and it certainly wasn’t what you described your parents as having.” His marriages soured like milk left in the sun. His mother’s assessment was that he and his wives weren’t evenly yoked. He was honest enough to admit to having had a hand in the way the relationships fell apart, but there was more than enough blame to go around both times.

  Her voice brought him back. “They laughed, ran through the house chasing each other with pillows. Nobody else’s parents had pillow fights! One day during the winter, he chased her inside with snowballs.”

  The wonder in her tone made him inwardly smile. “Sounds like they had a good time.”

  “They did.”

  He wondered if that was the kind of relationship she was seeking for herself. Personally, Drew was done with love. Two strikes had been enough. He didn’t need a third.

  She asked, “Were you and your mom close?”

  “Yeah. She had me at fifteen so she was more like a big sister than a mother. Got her GED, got an associate’s degree from the community college then worked two jobs to afford nursing school.” He paused for a moment. “She raised me right, and she raised me strong. Miss her a lot.” He glanced over. Finding her watching him intently he asked softly, “What?”

  “Nothing. Just enjoying the company.”

  Pleased by that, Drew settled his attention back on the highway.

  Just as predicted, they reached the field thirty minutes later. A stricken Tasha looked out at the weed-covered space. “This is our field.”

  “Yeah.” He turned off the engine. “Let’s take a walk.”

  Standing in the afternoon sun, Tasha glanced around and admittedly had no idea what to say. The place resembled a city dump. There were old appliances, ripped open trash bags with the contents spilling out, plastic milk cartons, tires, and she could only guess at what else lay hidden beneath the knee-high weeds. “This is crazy.”

  “It wasn’t this bad when we last used it, but almost. The school district’s superintendent let me borrow a riding mower once a week, and after the weather turned cold, we didn’t have to mow, just watch out for the holes and frozen ruts.”

  She looked around. “No bleachers?”

  “No. No need for any. The few people who came to watch us play stood behind the end zones.”

  “The other teams didn’t bring their fans?”

  “Not here, no.”

  She didn’t believe this. Her grandfather hadn’t left her a team, he’d left her a cruel joke and she swore she heard him laughing. “So we have no field. Do we have weight equipment, someplace for the players to work out?”

  “No. The guys work out on their own. One of the downtown gyms gives them a discount.”

  At least that was something positive. “No locker room either?”

  “No. When we played home games here, we used the team bus for halftime.”

  She was almost afraid to ask, “What kind of condition is it in?”

  “Breaks down daily, seems like. Lucky for us, one of our receivers is a mechanic. He’s been keeping it running.”

  “Where do you keep it when it’s not in use?”

  “In the parking lot of his shop.”

  Another item to add to her to-do list. Tasha was blown away by just how needy her team was. Most minor-league teams operated on a shoestring. Hers didn’t even have shoes. She refused to be discouraged, though. “Okay. First thing I want to do is take pictures and find a professional to give us an evaluation and an estimate on how much it might cost to bring this field back because I want it up and running by ppening day.”

  He appeared doubtfully amused, but she ignored it. “Does the school district still own it?”

  “Far as I know.”

  “What kind of financial situation are they in?”

  “Hurting like every place else.”

  “Okay, let’s wave some Bloom money in their faces and see if they’ll let us buy it outright.”

  “Why?”

  “So we can lease it during the off season to Pee Wee leagues, soccer leagues or anybody else needing to use a good, state-of-the-art field.” She took her camera from her purse and heard him chuckling. “Something wrong?”

  “You’re dead serious, aren’t you?”

  She began taking pictures of the field. “Stick with me and watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat. It’ll also be a good source of revenue. I’m into profit.” She paused and said, “Somewhere my grandfather’s laughing his head off. I’m going to make him choke but in a loving, family sort of way.”

  He laughed. “You are so not the ice princess I thought you were.”

  “Sure I am. I’m just one with determination, a spine and a brain.” She knew he wasn’t totally sold on her abilities yet, so she’d have to make him choke on his own doubt, too, but only a tiny bit.

  * *
*

  Drew’d dealt with myriad female types during his life: schemers, manipulators, liars and, in the case of his first wife, cheaters. Not on that list were determined, female brainiacs like the one walking beside him on the way to his truck. He knew from meeting her at the club last night that she was different, but apparently he’d only seen the tip of the iceberg. She was also a force of nature, and he was already being buffeted by her wind. He applauded her desire to make Walker Bloom eat crow, yet he admittedly was skeptical about the field being usable by opening day. She, however, didn’t seem to have any trouble with her vision at all. Being around her was going to be interesting—and not just because he wanted to take her to bed.

  * * *

  On the ride back to the city, Tasha felt good. Getting the field and the team to where she wanted both to be would be expensive and require lots of work, but she didn’t care. She thrived on uphill battles. Hadn’t she worked her way up from a grunt on the Street to owning her own firm? Getting her team up and running could be done. She made mental notes to touch base with the school district, find a landscaper and look into a new bus. Hearing from Drew that one of the guys was a mechanic negated the need to hire one. She’d offer him a stipend in addition to his pay if he’d take on the job formally. For the rest of the ride back to the Detroit area, she mulled over all the things needing to be done.

  Next thing she knew, she and Drew had driven through the open ironwork gates and were parked in front of her grandfather’s home. Chagrined that she hadn’t spoken a word to him since leaving the field, she apologized. “Sorry for ignoring you.”

  “No problem. I could hear your brain whirling way over here.”

  “We’re going to be able to do this, Drew.”

  “And Lord help anyone who gets in your way, right?”

  “Amen.” The humor in his eye made her bereft at being unable to spend the rest of the day in his company. “Thanks for driving. Appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  It was as if they both wanted to say more but were unsure about what it should be. He finally said, “Look. I had a nice time. Taxton mentioned taking you to dinner. How about being my guests tonight at the club? Dinner and drinks on me.”

  “That’s nice. I’ll see what he says. Can I text you later and let you know?”

  “Sure.”

  Tasha knew she should get moving, but the pull from him kept her in the seat. The way his eyes were holding hers only increased her not wanting to leave.

  “Go inside, Tash, before I pull you into my lap and kiss the hell out of you.”

  Heat tore through her like lightning. She’d never had her knees go weak while sitting down before. That she wanted to be kissed wasn’t something she was ashamed to admit. “That might be nice.”

  He leaned over and slowly traced a bent knuckle down her cheek. While she melted, he added, “Your housekeeper will probably get out her shotgun if she finds us out here necking like teenagers in broad daylight, so go in the house. I’ll kiss you next time.”

  Tasha now knew the true meaning of the word swoon. “Getting out,” she said softly. “I’m holding you to that ‘next time.’”

  A smile curved his full lips. “Bet.”

  Dragging herself away from his commanding, seductive presence, she exited the truck and walked to the house on rubbery legs.

  Drew waited until she went inside, then drove home as hard as a goalpost in the end zone.

  When he got to the club that evening, he checked his phone. There was a text from Tasha saying she and Monty would accept his invitation. Knowing he would see her again pleased him and had him wondering how he could separate her from Taxton long enough to kiss her the way she deserved. Amused by his plotting, he cut through the kitchen and talked to his chef Mia for a minute about the special on tap for the night—prime rib. She assured him her staff was ready to rock and roll, so he left her and went in search of Hazel. She was in her small office going over the employee schedule. Having a full staff was one of the biggest headaches of club ownership, topped only by employee theft.

  “Everybody coming in tonight?”

  “No. Looks like I’ll be short at least two waiters, but I have calls in to subs. The musicians have checked into their hotel. Tommy should be bringing them over for sound checks any minute now.”

  “Okay. Ms. Bloom and her friend, a Mr. Taxton, are my guests this evening, so put their drinks and dinner on my tab.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why is she your guest?”

  He eyed her for a moment. “You have a problem with that?”

  “Yes. She’s not your type.”

  “And what is my type?”

  “You usually go for more of an around-the-way type of girl.”

  He folded his arms. “And you know this how?”

  “Because I’ve never seen you with anybody like her before.”

  “Ah.”

  “I also saw the way you were checking her out last night.”

  “What man wouldn’t? She’s a beautiful woman who also happens to own the team that I work for.”

  “You weren’t looking at her like a boss.”

  “And why is that your business?”

  “Because I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I appreciate that, Hazel. I really do. Put their bills on my tab, and I’ll see you later.”

  Walking up to the stairs to his office, he shook his head. When Hazel was hired two years ago, she’d quickly let it be known that she wanted to be more than his manager, but he nipped that fantasy in the bud just as quickly. He liked her as a person. She was an outstanding employee, and once they got that straight, they’d had become great colleagues. He was sure her problem with Tasha was rooted in residual jealousy. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to remind her that running the club didn’t equate to running his life.

  He was seated at his desk looking over the contract with the musicians on tap for the night when Tommy Reed knocked on his door. “Hey, player. The musicians are downstairs setting up.”

  “Thanks, Tommy.”

  “I hear Ms. Bloom’s coming back tonight.”

  Drew sighed inwardly. “And?”

  Reed shrugged. “Just wondering what’s going on, that’s all.”

  “I’m treating her and a friend to dinner and drinks.”

  “You fraternizing with the enemy?”

  “You calling the lady who’ll be signing your checks the enemy?”

  Drew knew Tommy had more attitude than brains, which was why he’d only lasted a season and a half in the pros. Drew silently waited for the young defensive back’s miniature brain to process the question before asking, “You got an answer yet?”

  “But the way her granddaddy screwed you. How can you be nice to her?”

  “Again, she’ll be signing our checks, and also, she’s a nice woman.”

  Tommy grinned slyly. “Oh, I get it. You’re going after that bonus money, aren’t you? Hey, I’d sleep with her for fifty thousand.”

  “Get out of my office.”

  Tommy’s grin remained. “See you later, player.”

  Drew watched him go and wondered if he could ask Tasha for more money just for having to put up with dumbasses like Tommy Reed.

  CHAPTER 5

  Although Monty agreed to be Drew’s guest, there was still a lot of mock fussing from him on the drive to the club in his rental car. “I appreciate Davis treating us to dinner, but does he know how much you eat?”

  She laughed and punched him playfully in the arm. “Just shut up and drive.” She was wearing a slim little sapphire number she’d picked up in Paris last year—snug enough to show off her curves but loose enough to let folks know she was still a lady. Beneath her Venetian s
ilk shawl, her throat, shoulders and arms were bare but for the tasteful gold around her neck and the matching bangles on her wrist. Monty’s teasing notwithstanding, her thoughts were focused on Drew. His parting promise of a kiss still resonated and she was looking forward to seeing him like she was seventeen instead of thirty-eight.

  “We’re not going to some hole-in-the-wall club where I need to leave my wallet in the car, are we?” he asked, cutting into her thoughts.

  “His place is gorgeous.”

  “You left out ‘just like him.’”

  “You’re about to get punched again.”

  “Punch me, spank me, make me write bad checks.”

  Tasha laughed. She loved having him as a best friend. “On a more serious note, while you were asleep he drove me out to see our field.” She ran down its shocking condition and the things she and Drew discussed.

  “Sounds expensive.”

  “And a lot of work, but it can be done.”

  “Then I got your back, Lady Bloom.”

  When they arrived at Drew’s there was a long line of cars waiting ahead of them to be valet parked. It was Friday night, and with the club’s reputation as a premier hot spot, she supposed a traffic jam was to be expected. The line moved quickly, though, and when they reached the entrance, her door was opened by Freighters defensive back Tommy Reed. “Ms. Bloom,” he said acknowledging her with the same chilly manner he’d used last night.

  “Mr. Reed.”

  He gave Monty a tight nod, slid in under the steering wheel and sped off.

  “That was one of the players,” Tasha volunteered.

  “Nice guy.”

  At the door Sammy King and the cold-eyed Donnie Ware stood waiting. Donnie looked over her head. Sammy at least smiled. “Welcome back, Ms. Bloom.”

  “Thanks.”

  He gave Monty the once-over, which Monty met with an icily raised eyebrow. Taking that as his cue, Sammy opened the door. “Enjoy your evening, folks.”