Joanne’s eyes rounded even more, and her bottom jaw dropped so fast and far, Joi though it might hit the floor.
“Well?” Joi waited.
“Damn.” Joanne’s one-word response was half sighed, half spoken.
A vindicated Joi tucked the phone back into the hip pocket of her jeans. “Like I said, five-alarm hotness.”
Joanne, staring ahead into space as if she could still see Marco’s photo, had a look of amazement on her face. “He has that whole tall, dark and handsome thing going on. But he took it to the max.” After a few seconds, she seemed to snap out of it, and went back to scrubbing.
“I told you. How do you think I felt when I walked into his office for my appointment? It was all I could do not to drool on his desk during my proposal.”
Joanne, having finally removed the stubborn paint stain, tossed her cloth back into the bucket and shook her head slowly. “Congrats on containing your drool, I know that wasn’t easy. But you do know that if you start something up with him, you’ll be asking for trouble, right?”
“I never said I was going to start anything with him, I just pointed out how fine he was.”
Joanne hit her with a side-eyed glance. “Girl, please. If you’re standing here telling me all this, you’re thinking about it. Not that I blame you. That man is finer than frog’s hair.”
Joi made a fist and punched her sister in the shoulder. “Stop teasing me, Jo.”
Feigning injury from the playful blow, Joanne grimaced. “All kidding aside, be careful, Joi. I don’t want to see you get hurt, nor do I want to see your business go down in flames, all because you couldn’t resist getting busy with the Casanova banker here.”
Joi, shrugging into her coat, smacked her lips. “I’m not planning on anything like that happening, Joanne. I can’t just think about myself. I’ve got a business partner and several employees to consider, so I can’t afford to be frivolous.”
“I just hope you remember that the next time you’re alone in a room with Marco.” Joanne tightened the belt on her own coat.
“I will.” Even as Joi spoke the words, she wondered if she could really deny the intense attraction sparking between her and Marco, or if she even wanted to.
“Let’s go. I want to get home before too late, so I can look in on Marlon.” Joanne smiled as she spoke of her six-year-old son with her husband, Victor.
“Cool. I wouldn’t dream of keeping my nephew from his mommy.” Joi walked toward the door her sister held open for her, and after Joanne locked up, the two of them got into Joanne’s minivan and departed.
* * *
His eyes settled on the big-screen television displaying the Carolina-Atlanta football game, and Marco popped a cheese fry into his mouth. The open window blinds at the Brash Bull allowed the deceptively bright sunlight to stream into the sports bar’s interior, casting thin beams of light on the concrete floor. Glancing out that window might make one think it was warm outside, but Marco knew better. He’d ventured out into the biting chill of this mid-November Sunday. If it weren’t for his affection for football and the company of his friends, he would have stayed home. Again he wondered if he’d ever get used to the chill that hung in the air this time of year, making him long for the balmy shores of his home back in Limón.
Seated around the table with him were his three friends and bandmates, Darius, Rashad and Ken. Together, the four of them were the jazz quartet known as the Queen City Gents. Darius, retired and wealthy at thirty-seven thanks to his tech-savvy invention, played the upright bass. Rashad, a museum curator, sang lead vocals and played piano. And Ken, an architect originally from Japan, acted as the quartet’s drummer. Marco’s tenor saxophone rounded out the group. He liked to think his skills on the golden horn added a special depth and richness to the Gents’ music.
Rashad, who had recently returned from his honeymoon in Trinidad and Tobago with his new wife, Lina, pounded his fist on the table. “Damn. We’ve got more turnovers today than a bakery.”
Marco chuckled, his friend was right. Cheering for Carolina could sometimes be difficult, but the four of them weren’t fair-weather or bandwagon fans. “Don’t worry. Remember, we really come alive in the second half.”
Darius, draining the last of the root beer in his mug, groused, “Yeah, but we need to start playing all four quarters. This is bad for my nerves.”
Ken, looking up from the screen of his tablet, snorted a laugh. “Statistically, the odds are in Carolina’s favor. So don’t sweat it.”
Marco shook his head. They all knew that Ken never got very excited about anything, hence his nickname, “Ken the Zen.”
Washing down his buffalo wings with a swig of lemonade, Rashad smiled. “Even if we lose, knowing I get to go home to Lina makes everything all right.”
That comment split the group into two factions: the married men, and the single ones. Marco and Ken both offered groans, as if offended by Rashad’s sentimental observation.
Darius gave Rashad a hard slap on the back as he nodded in agreement. “Amen to that, man. Nothing like the love of a good woman.” He shared a knowing grin with Rashad, as if they were members of some kind of secret club.
With a roll of his eyes, Marco remarked, “You two are so whipped. A year ago neither of you were even interested in a relationship. Now suddenly you’re the poster boys for upstanding husbands?”
“Stop hating, Marco. You know you want what we have.” Darius cut him with a hard stare.
“Why would I want to give up my freedom?”
Rashad shook his head. “I used to think I was giving up something, and I guess, in a way, I did. But what I gained is worth so much more.”
“Right. My life is a thousand times better now that I have Eve in my life.” Darius leaned back in his chair, a wistful look on his face. “And with the baby coming, my life is really going to be complete.”
“Wow. You two are really drinking the marriage Kool-Aid.” Marco looked across the table at the men, his closest friends. The grins Darius and Rashad wore spoke to their happiness, but it was still difficult for him to wrap his mind around it.
Their transformation from single guys to family men was something he still hadn’t gotten used to. Deep down, he supposed they were still the same guys he’d met all those years ago, when he’d first showed up at rehearsal to answer their ad for a saxophonist. Still, the sappy nature of their recent conversations had begun to stick in his craw.
“Whatever. I know it was the best decision I ever made.” Rashad redirected his attention toward the television, now showing the halftime show.
Marco stuffed another cheese fry into his mouth. He would never admit it aloud, but he felt a twinge of jealousy at his friends’ declarations of bliss. Who wouldn’t? They made marriage sound like the best thing since the invention of twenty-four-hour sports coverage. He’d had his share of experience with marriage, from watching his parents. They’d been married more than forty years, so he knew true love wasn’t a myth. He also knew that with love and marriage came children, bills and more responsibility than he ever wanted to have. No, he wasn’t marriage material, but then again, not everybody was meant for marital bliss. “I can have any woman I want, so why should I settle for just one? Am I right, Ken?” Marco dug his elbow into Ken’s forearm.
Ken, seated to Marco’s right, glanced up from the glowing screen of his tablet, a confused look on his face. “Sorry, what did you say?”
Marco scoffed. “Thanks for the backup, man.”
“You’re welcome.” With a shrug, Ken dropped his eyes back to the screen, and kept right on scrolling.
As the halftime show ended and coverage returned to the game, silence fell over the table. Marco felt a modicum of relief. While he didn’t begrudge his friends living their lives as they saw fit, all that stuff about wives and babies really put a damper on
the whole male bonding thing.
The rest of the game went by with only conversation surrounding cheering for the home team to crush the visiting squad. In the end, Carolina won out by three points, thanks to the kicker’s flawless field goal attempt. That got everybody at the table on their feet, laughing and exchanging high fives.
While the waitress cleared the table of their empty plates and mugs, Darius spoke up. “Oh yeah, guys, I almost forgot. I got a call from Dave, and it looks like we’re in for the Winter Jazz Festival.”
Marco’s ears perked up at that. “Awesome! Who are we opening for? Who are we following?”
Ken, having finally tucked his tablet away, asked, “What are we making on this gig?”
Darius snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “All right, Gents, one question at a time. We’re going on before Mint Condition, and following Eric Jackson. So step your game up, sax man.” He looked at Marco and gave him a playful thump on the forehead.
Marco thumped him back. “My sax game is always on point.”
Rashad, leaning against the short dividing wall behind their table, chimed in. “I’m with Ken. I wanna know how much we’re getting paid. Lina’s got expensive tastes.” He chuckled at his own joke.
“The deal is four grand up front, plus two percent of the ticket sales. In other words, if we advertise the festival every week at our shows, we can raise our take.” Darius fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. “The festival is the second weekend of December, so keep your calendars clear.”
Ken remarked, “Us? Isn’t your wife due around that time?”
Darius nodded. “She’s due at the end of this month, and if she’s late, they’ll induce her.”
Rashad snickered. “Based on what Lina’s been telling me, Eve’s miserable. Trust me, she ain’t holding that kid in any longer than necessary.”
“Quit teasing my wife. You’ll be there soon enough.” Darius gave Rashad a fake punch in the shoulder.
Marco laughed to himself at their horseplay. Yeah, they were definitely the same dudes he’d grown to know and...tolerate. “Sounds good. Even if we don’t do anything to help them sell tickets, we should still make a decent amount of cash on top of the up-front money. What are we doing with it this time?”
Darius gestured to Ken, who was shrugging into his dark brown trench coat. “It’s Ken’s turn to pick.”
Ken, busy patting his pockets in search of something, replied, “Children’s Miracle Network.”
Marco nodded his approval. “Good deal, man. By the way, your keys are on the table.”
Ceasing the fruitless patting, Ken finally spotted the keys among the pile of crumpled napkins on the tabletop, and picked them up. “Thanks.”
Each time the Gents performed at a paid gig, they donated half the money to a charity and split the difference. Since the four of them were all pretty well set financially, they’d all agreed to put that portion of their earnings toward helping causes they supported. In the past, they’d donated to veterans’ charities, homeless shelters and organizations that provided services to battered women.
As the men exchanged goodbyes and left the Brash Bull, Marco thought about the coming week, and everything it would hold. Most of his concern centered on Joi, and the attraction buzzing between them like an electric current. He wasn’t fully sure he could trust her, yet he couldn’t stop himself from admiring the woman she’d become. Shaking his head, he unlocked his car door and climbed inside the cabin.
Chapter 5
Joi had never been one to slack on any job she’d been entrusted with. That’s why when Marco and Roosevelt arrived on Tuesday morning to unlock the doors of the bank branch, Joi and her team were already there.
It was another chilly day, and she’d draped her heavy houndstooth jacket over her uniform to protect her from the cool air. She sat on the old wooden bench in front of the building housing Royal Bank and Trust with one leg crossed casually over the other. Next to Joi sat her partner, Karen, as well as Yolanda and Jackie, the two guards she’d assigned to the job.
A smirk touched Joi’s lips as she took in the shocked expressions of the two men. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
Roosevelt offered a nod and a grunt in response. Joi quickly gathered that the older man wasn’t a fan of early mornings.
Marco, with the large ring of keys in hand, returned her smile. “Good morning, ladies. I see you’re here bright and early.”
Joi stood, and the rest of her staff followed suit. “That’s the Citadel way. Show up early, stay late, get the job done right.”
His facial expression changed, revealing that he was impressed. “I like that attitude. Give me a few moments and we can all go inside out of this cold.”
Karen and the guards formed an orderly line behind Joi, and waited while Marco fit the key into the lock. He then swung the door open, and Joi led her team into the heated interior of the bank building.
Relieved to be inside, Joi led Karen and their guards as she followed Roosevelt to the employee break room. There, everyone hung their coats in the small closet, before reporting back to the main lobby area.
Joi looked around for Marco, but didn’t see him. Assuming he’d already disappeared into his office for the day, she focused on getting her team prepared for their first day on the job. This was a lucrative contract, and she aimed to show Marco, as well as the bankers he reported to, that Citadel was very capable of serving all of their security needs.
When the four of them were all seated in chairs in the waiting area, Joi began her daily briefing. “Ladies, this is our first day at Royal, and we want to make it as smooth as possible.”
“I’m ready to start the cybersecurity hardware and software setup, but my assistant won’t be here until nine.” Karen slipped her hands out of her gloves and tucked them into her purse.
“Fine. Just do what you can until she comes in.” Joi snapped her fingers, remembering the small boxes in her blazer pocket. Extracting two, she extended them toward her guards. “I almost forgot. These are for Veterans Day. Thank you for your service, ladies.”
Each woman took a box. Yolanda opened hers to reveal a silver charm bracelet filled with patriotic charms. “Thank you, Joi. It’s lovely.”
A smile touched Joi’s lips. “It’s the least I can do. My grandfather was an Army vet. He served at Normandy during World War II.” She’d gone to the cemetery yesterday to place a bouquet of red, white and blue flowers on James Lewis’s grave, but decided not to mention that, in order to keep the conversation light.
Once Yolanda and Jackie had tucked their bracelets away, Joi proceeded with the briefing.
“Jackie, I’m assigning you to the vault and the periphery around the offices. Yolanda, you’ll be patrolling the lobby and the parking lot. We have about half an hour before the bank opens, so spend that time familiarizing yourself with the layout. Did you all look over the maps I gave you?”
Everyone indicated that they had.
Joi spent a few more moments explaining the day’s tasks to her guards, then sent them to their posts. Karen had already disappeared into the branch manager’s office, so Joi left the lobby in search of Marco.
She stopped in front of his office door, which was slightly ajar. She glanced inside the room and saw him sitting at his desk, poring over a stack of paperwork.
She raised her fist to rap on the door, but before she could, his head jerked up.
His eyes locked with hers, he gave her an assessing look. “Ms. Lewis. Come in, please. I’d like to talk with you.”
She eased the door open and stepped inside his office. Just as it had been the last time she’d come here, she felt overwhelmed by the masculine presence in the room. The decor, with its dark paint, wood paneling and hulking desk, seemed to be a reflection of the virility and power exuded by
the man who occupied the space.
“I’m impressed with you and your staff being so early this morning, but that really won’t be necessary in the future.” He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the desk.
“Whatever you think is best, Mr. Alvarez.”
“So, is there no way I can get you to call me Marco? Or have you forgotten my request that you address me by my first name?”
She shook her head, because she clearly remembered his request. She also clearly remembered the heady feeling he aroused in her, and she knew getting too informal with him would be a bad idea. “I remember, I’m just not comfortable with it. At least not yet.”
He tented his fingers. “Fair enough. We’ll revisit it another time. But there is something I need to ask you. It may sound personal, but it’s really not.”
She could feel her brow furrow, and the tension rising up her spine. “What more do you want to know?”
“More than the stiff response you gave me before.What have you been doing these last six years? You seem very different from the woman I remember.”
She felt her shoulders tense. From the way he’d made the statement, she couldn’t tell whether he thought the current version of her was an improvement. Pushing that thought aside, she answered his question. “Let’s see. I was fresh out of college. Since then, I’ve studied martial arts, gotten my black belt in Tae Kwon Do, became certified in self-defense and, oh, got a cat.”
His brow hitched at the last part. “A cat?”
“Yep. She’s all gray and her name is Misty.” In reality, she didn’t have a pet, but if telling him that would satisfy his nosiness, so be it.
A slight smile turned up the corners of his mouth, brightening his otherwise stern countenance.
For a moment, she smiled back, thinking she’d succeeded in getting him to lighten up. Her hopes were dashed when he spoke again.
“So, have you dated much?” He fixed her with a penetrating, almost accusatory stare.
Gazing back into the pools of his dark eyes, she sighed. “No, I haven’t. Not that that’s any of your business.”
A Sultry Love Song Page 4
