The Choir Director

I watched Aaron Mackie stroll through the double doors of the practice room like he owned the place. There was no question in my mind that T. K. had made the right decision to bring him on board when I heard the collective sigh of the women who’d been patiently waiting to meet him. I hadn’t seen Aaron since T. K. and I dropped him off at his apartment two days ago. Lord forgive me for thinking it, but he sure did clean up nice. I mean, that man really was easy on the eyes, even more so now that he was dressed in a designer suit. The way he strutted into the room, I could tell he knew how good he looked. I wasn’t even sure he recognized me as he scanned the room because his eyes seemed to be focused on hot-behind Porsche Moore, but I quickly made my presence known.
 “Well, hello, Mr. Mackie,” I called out. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
He looked a little surprised to see me when I walked toward him, but he still smiled, offering me his hand. “Hello there, First Lady. I wasn’t expecting to see you again until Sunday service. Are you going to be joining our choir?”
I smiled back and took his hand. The thought flashed through my mind that this was the hand that had rubbed up against my backside and squeezed just two days before. Sure, he’d said it was an accident, and I had accepted his apology, but I didn’t believe him. The problem was that when I reflected on the incident now, I felt my heart rate increase a little bit. Certainly not the way a first lady was supposed to be reacting.
“Um, no.” I shook my head. “Singing really isn’t my thing.”
 “So, what exactly is your thing?” He winked, giving me this devilish smirk that I really didn’t know how to interpret. Was he flirting with me?
As wrong as it was, I could feel the blood rushing to my face as he held onto my hand, which was starting to perspire. I knew I should have been upset, but a small part of me was flattered. Men never flirted with me like that anymore, at least not since I’d become first lady. In a way it made me feel good. Make no mistake, I loved my husband. It was just nice to have a little attention thrown my way by a handsome younger man.
“My husband,” I replied. “My husband is my thing.”
 “I’m sure he is.” Aaron chuckled as if it were a game.
Still afraid that someone might misinterpret—or even worse, properly interpret—my blushing, I pulled my hand back, glancing away so that no one other than Tia could see my red face. Thankfully, Tia’s eyes were too preoccupied looking at Aaron’s behind to be concerned with me. Knowing her background, I didn’t think she was that type of girl, but her eyes were all up in his Kool-Aid. She wasn’t the only one either. You should have seen the reaction of the other women in the room.

From THE CHOIR DIRECTOR.  Copyright © 2011 by Carl Weber.  All rights reserved.  Published by arrangement with Dafina Books, a imprint of Kensington Publishing Corp.