Rhythms of Love: You Sang to Me / Beats of My Heart. Beverly Jenkins

man du jour and owner of the building where she styled hair on the weekends.

      While Reggie looked on, Trina texted him back a reply. Done, she looked up. “Gotta go. He’s taking me to dinner.”

      “You’re leaving?”

      “Yep.” Trina gave her a quick peck on the cheek, followed by “Love you,” and hurried down the hall in her high-heeled boots toward the doors. “Keep an open mind!’ she called back.

      Reggie couldn’t believe this. Outdone, she glanced back at the gym doorway and there he stood, dressed in all black and looking like a man out of GQ magazine.

      “Guess it’s just me and you, huh?”

      His low-toned voice vibrated through her like a softly plucked bass string. His disarming smile didn’t help. She fought to keep herself focused. “Did the two of you plan this?”

      “Not that I know of.”

      Reggie understood that Trina thought she was doing the right thing by hooking this up but…

      “I just want to talk to you, Ms. Vaughn. That’s all.”

      “I thought you were flying back to L.A. today?”

      “I am. Taking the red-eye.”

      He was persistent, she had to give him that. Dark-chocolate gorgeous, too, an inner voice crooned. She pushed that aside. It was also obvious that he wasn’t going to go away until he had his say, so to hasten that, she said, “Okay. You can talk to me on the walk home.”

      “How about we take my car. It’s out front.”

      “You’re a stranger, Mr. Reynolds. We walk or we don’t talk.”

      Tough lady, Jamal noted admiringly. She was right about him being a stranger, no getting around that. However, it was freezing outside. Being a Californian, he wasn’t accustomed to temperatures in the twenties, and he was not looking forward to being out in the cold, even for a short walk. But to allay her fears, and to keep her from rescinding her offer, he agreed. “We walk.”

      “Fine. Let me get my coat.”

      Moments later she returned wearing a long blue down coat, a bulky knit hat and gloves. He had a coat, too, but it was lightweight cashmere, more suited for show than warmth, and it was in the town car. “Mind if I get my coat?”

      “Nope.” That said, she walked off down the hall toward the doors.

      Shaking his head with amused amazement, Jamal hurried to catch up.

      Jamal was freezing. So far, they’d only walked a short distance, but his feet in the fancy, black Italian tie-ups felt like blocks of ice. His hands and head were no better, and he got the distinct impression that she was enjoying his plight.

      “So, talk,” she said as they rounded a corner onto a dimly lit side street lined with houses that had older model cars parked out front.

      “How long have you been with the school?” he asked. By the look she gave him it was obviously not the question she’d been anticipating.

      “Almost two years.”

      “Not the question you were expecting?”

      “No.”

      “Good. Keeping you off balance is probably my best shot.”

      “And why is that?” she asked, glad he wasn’t finding this easy.

      “Because you’re different.”

      “Used to women falling all over you, are you?”

      “Something like that.”

      “There’ll be no falling here.”

      “Figuring that out.”

      They didn’t need to look at each other to know they were both smiling.

      He asked, “Do you enjoy being at the school?”

      “I do. I’m hoping to finish my degree in Music so I can work there full-time.”

      Another surprise. “How close are you?”

      “Eight more credits. I had to withdraw when I lost my job at the hotel desk. Housekeeping pays a whole lot less.”

      “Money from recording could help.”

      “True, but I’m not interested.”

      In spite of their not seeing eye to eye, walking beside her made Jamal feel like a kid in high school walking a honey home, although this honey was like no other. “Are you making this hard on purpose?”

      “Yep.”

      “Why?”

      “So you’ll give up and go away, of course.”

      He threw up his hands.

      She laughed.

      Jamal couldn’t believe how much he was enjoying her. “Woman, you are something.”

      “I’m just a chick from the east side of Detroit.”

      They’d stopped walking and were standing under a streetlight. She was looking up at him from beneath that knit hat, and he swore she had mischief in her eyes; there was a seriousness in them, too, as if she were trying to figure out who he really was. He told her softly, “I’ve never been turned down, and you’re not going to be the first.”

      “Don’t be so sure,” came her softer reply.

      In the drawn-out silence the urge to kiss her rose up in Jamal so fast and strong, it almost blazed past his defenses. Dragging his eyes away from the tempting curve of her lips, he stuck his hands in his pockets. “How much farther?”

      “Just a little ways,” she told him. “You might want to use the buttons on that coat before you freeze to death. This is Michigan, not a photo shoot.” The front of his coat was open, revealing the black wool turtleneck, black sport coat and slacks beneath.

      Shivering, he quipped, “Already there. Only thing missing is the undertaker.”

      While she looked on, he attempted to do up the buttons with fumbling frozen fingers.

      “Where are your gloves?”

      “Don’t have any.”

      She shook her head. “Pitiful.”

      He chuckled and finally got the last button closed. In an instant, it made such a difference, he wished he’d done it earlier. “I’m new at this cold stuff. We never get this kind of weather in L.A.”

      “Here, it’s as common as breathing.”

      “So I’ve noticed. How much farther?” he whined mockingly.

      “Lord.” She laughed in reply. “Come on. Almost there.” She walked off.

      In spite of her misgivings, Reggie decided she could probably like him if she let herself do so. He appeared to be on the up-and-up, and he had a sense of humor, but she had her life already planned out and it didn’t include recording studios or a man who probably had women coming out of his ears.

      “Trina said you two are best friends.”

      They were in stride once again.

      “From the day we met at her mama’s beauty shop. We even share a birthday. March 18.”

      “She thinks the world of you, and your voice.”

      Reggie went silent for a few moments. “I think the world of her, too. She thinks I’m wasting my gift.”

      “Please don’t punch me, but I agree with her.”

      “That’s because you don’t know how much money I lost the last time I said yes to someone like you.”

      Even