Lesson in Romance, page 17
“Well, when I spoke to him, he had nothing but compliments about you.”
She frowned. “That’s surprising.”
“Why is that?”
She bit her lip in hesitation. “We didn’t part on the best of terms.”
“Alex is lucky to have you as a teacher.”
“Thank you. Based on the circumstances, I think I’ve taken him as far as I can. Before you leave, I’ll give you a list of other literacy centers he can contact for lessons.”
Tommy removed his hat and scratched his head. “Why shouldn’t he come here to continue learning to read?”
A lump lodged in her throat. “We’ve had differences that I believe would impede the learning process. Besides, having a lesson here is not going to be possible—for anyone.”
“Why is that?”
She took a deep breath and spoke quietly. “Beacon House will be closing by the end of the month.” Even saying the words, she could hardly believe them.
The smile disappeared from Tommy’s face. “I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”
“Too much to talk about, but I am really hoping he’ll continue with reading lessons. He’s come a long way, but he’s got a long way to go.”
Tommy pulled an envelope from the front pocket of his shirt. “Maybe this will help?”
Cara accepted and opened the envelope. Her heart leapt, than quickly sank, leaving her dazed. Inside was the donation for her services. It would help maintain payroll and keep the lights on through the end of the month, but not much else.
“Thank you. This is exactly what we agreed to, but I’m afraid it’s not enough to keep our doors open.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll let Alex know.”
“No, don’t!”
Tommy raised his eyebrows and she realized she’d spoken a little louder than she intended.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that this is a private matter that I wish to handle on my own.”
“Birds of a feather,” muttered Tommy.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t know you very well, but you’re as hardheaded as he is. Both too stubborn to ask for help when you know you really need it, and both too proud to admit you can’t live without one another.”
“Tommy,” she replied. “With all due respect, you don’t know me, nor do you know the situation, so you really shouldn’t judge me.”
He waved her comment away. “I call ’em as I see ’em, just like when I play poker. Only this time, I got a winning hand. I don’t even have to look at it to know that you’re in love with Alex.”
Her eyes welled up with tears as she stared at him in disbelief. Why did her feelings for Alex make sense when they came from someone else’s lips, but on her own they only confused her?
“Yes, I am. But that doesn’t matter anymore.”
“What are you talking about, it doesn’t matter—of course it matters. Why, my Dora and I have been married over twenty-five years and you don’t think we’ve had our little spells? But no matter how much she made me angry or hurt me, I still loved her, and she still loved me. Because when a man loves a woman, really loves her, he’ll let nothing stand in his way.”
Cara snorted. “I guess that answers my question. You don’t see Alex around here, do you?”
“There’s one thing that marriage has taught me. Sometimes you have to be the one to forgive first. Come to the book reading tomorrow.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” countered Tommy.
“He wouldn’t want me there. It would only make things worse. This is an important day for him.”
Tommy stood up, grabbed his coat and adjusted his hat. “All the more reason for the woman he loves to be there.
“Just think about it.”
He shut the door behind him, leaving Cara alone. She squeezed back her tears and accepted the truth.
Alone.
It was exactly what she deserved to be.
Chapter 15
Cara’s heels resounded with a confidence she really didn’t feel as she walked down the hallway of PS 25. The walls were lined with children’s artwork depicting classic elements of the fall season. When she reached the office, Mrs. Esther Dawson, principal of PS 25, greeted her warmly.
“Cara!” she exclaimed, hugging her. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“It’s great to be here, Mrs. Dawson,” she replied, hugging her back.
She smiled at the older woman, who stood not much taller than her own five feet and whose moniker was “The Destroyer.” But in her case, it wasn’t a negative term. She was well-known in New York City for turning some of the worst elementary schools in the system into the best.
“Let’s go into my office,” she said. “Would you like some coffee?”
Cara declined the offer and had a seat at the little round conference table.
“Did you see the news truck outside?”
Cara nodded and sat up straighter in her chair. “Yes, a crew from NY One.”
Mrs. Dawson grinned. “They just arrived. There are other reporters that are supposed to be coming, too. New York Post, New York Daily News, New York Times, even Entertainment Weekly.”
“Wow, that’s wonderful. Did Mr. Dovington arrange it?”
Mrs. Dawson shook her head. “No, everything was arranged by his record company,” she replied. “They shared their media plan with me and everyone that will be present today met my approval. Literacy is a message that everyone in New York and across the country needs to hear. Don’t you agree?”
Cara nodded, but her heart went out to Alex, whom she was sure did not want to be the poster child. Was he aware that he was walking into a trap?
“I was surprised and pleased to hear from you yesterday,” Mrs. Dawson continued. “The children are so excited about Alex visiting the school, and you being here will make the event that much more special.”
Cara smiled. “I always enjoy coming and reading to the kids, especially the younger ones.”
“You and Beacon House are a vital part of the Harlem community,” agreed Mrs. Dawson. “I don’t know what we would do without you! Will you be reading with Mr. Dovington?”
“Oh, no,” she interrupted. “In fact, I have a favor to ask.”
Mrs. Dawson raised an eyebrow. “What can I do for you?”
“I know this is an unusual request, but I’d rather Alex not know I was here.”
“It’s none of my business, but can I ask why?”
“My reasons for being here are primarily personal, so I can’t really go into it.”
“I understand. But the children will be so disappointed. Can’t I even announce that you’re here?”
“Of course. But I prefer that you do so after you announce Alex. Is that all right?”
“It is unusual, but I’m happy to accommodate you. Can I assume you don’t want him to see you, either?”
She nodded. “Is there someplace I can hang out until the event starts?”
Mrs. Dawson nodded and checked her watch. “Alex’s publicist said he’d be arriving around 8:30 a.m., so we’d better hurry. Come with me, I have somewhere you can hide.”
They exited the office and walked down a sloping hallway to the auditorium. But instead of turning and entering the doors, they went a little farther, and Mrs. Dawson led her backstage.
They stopped in front of a small room lit by a single bulb.
“This is where we keep all the props when we’re doing a play. We haven’t done one in about a year, so the room is a little dusty, but it will have to do. You should be able to hear me announce your name from the stage.”
“This is perfect. Thank you, Mrs. Dawson.”
She nodded. “Just remember to turn off the light before you leave.”
Mrs. Dawson started to close the door, but then turned to Cara. “I don’t know why you’re doing all this, but I hope everything turns out the way you want it.”
“Me, too,” Cara whispered as the door shut.
She backed into the room and jumped when her legs brushed against something rough. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she discovered that it was just a stack of old carpeting. She found a wooden chair in a corner, brought it closer to the light and sat down.
She took her phone from her purse and silenced it. A few minutes later, her hand flew to her throat. Alex’s rich baritone voice rang through the auditorium as he tested the microphone he really didn’t need.
Closing her eyes, she longed to hear his voice against her earlobe, a lover’s whisper. Warmth pooled in her belly as she thought about the other evening with Alex in his dining room.
The night he told her he loved her and made love to her with such unforgettable passion.
It was one of the most wonderful nights of her life, and she had ruined it by running away from him. Being with him had been a dream come true, but it was time to wake up to reality. She’d be lucky if he ever spoke to her again.
She opened her eyes and stood. Her hand hovered over the doorknob for a second before she twisted it and cracked open the door.
The stage curtain, a bloodred velvet, partially blocked her view as she peeked through, but there was a tiny opening and she could see that Alex’s back was to her.
He was walking back to the podium on the other side of the stage playing a funked-up version of the Rolling Stone’s tune “Start Me Up.” She could barely tear her eyes away as his body moved ever so slightly in time with the music. She found herself tapping her feet until he suddenly turned and started walking in her direction.
She shut the door and leaned against it, hoping he hadn’t seen her. Her heart was beating so fast that it felt like it was going to thump right out of her chest. He’d stopped playing and she could hear his hard-soled shoes on the wooden floor, walking toward the prop room.
She slowly locked the door a moment before Alex turned the outside knob. Cara held her breath as he jiggled it a few times before giving up. When his footsteps faded away, she exhaled in relief and sat down in the chair.
Maybe hiding in here wasn’t such a good idea, she thought, as she realized that until Mrs. Dawson announced him, Alex would probably be waiting backstage, too. She’d have to be extra quiet to avoid being heard. Thankfully, the event would be starting soon.
She jumped in her seat when something hard banged against the door. Tiptoeing toward it, she put her ear against the door.
“Mr. Dovington, is everything okay?” said a voice.
“Everything is fine. I’m just hanging out here until we get started.”
“Can I get you some water?”
“Sure, if you could just place it by the podium that would be great.”
“No problem, Mr. Dovington, and good luck!”
Her heart wrenched in her chest when he gave no response, just a sigh so deep it rumbled against the door.
He must be so nervous right now, she thought, remembering how terrified he was that his secret would someday be exposed. If only there was something she could do to help him relax.
Carefully, she placed her palms flat against the door, where she thought his shoulders might be leaning. Next, she inched her feet forward until her breasts were grazing the surface. Finally, she pressed her cheek against the door and closed her eyes.
She imagined her arms coming from behind and enclosing him in a surprise hug, her breasts and tummy pressed against the hard muscles of his back. In her mind, she planted a kiss on his shoulder and squeezed him so tight it was like she would never let him go.
When she stepped away from the door a few minutes later, tears were streaming down her face. She twisted a finger around one of her curls, dreading what was to come. For the millionth time, her mind ran through what she would say to Alex.
But there’s no easy way to say goodbye.
Although the media coverage was an annoyance, perhaps it wasn’t all bad. At least he couldn’t throw her out on national TV, she mused sadly.
She was blotting her tears with a tissue, trying to salvage her makeup, when she heard what sounded like hundreds of feet thunder into the auditorium. The children themselves were surprisingly quiet, although she heard the occasional snicker that was quickly followed by multiple rounds of “shhhs.”
Even though she was backstage behind closed doors, the hum of excitement in the air was palpable.
“We’re ready to get started,” announced Mrs. Dawson. “You should all be on voice meter one, which if you are still trying to wake up, means that there should not be one sound coming out of your mouths.”
There was a pause while she waited, presumably for everyone to be quiet.
“Students and faculty of PS 25, we have the honor today of being the first school on a city-wide literacy tour conducted by Alex Dovington, world-famous saxophonist.”
“Mr. Dovington has nine albums to his credit, one of which won a Grammy Award, the highest honor in the music industry. He is also an alumnus of PS 25 and he had his first jazz performance right on this very stage. Everyone put your hands together now for Mr. Alex Dovington!”
As the auditorium erupted in applause, Cara heard Alex push away from the door and start playing a popular hip-hop tune as he walked onstage. The roar of sound as the kids hooped, hollered and stomped their feet along with the music was amazing to hear.
Cara opened the door and peeked out. After a wailing high note that made the crowd go wild, he walked over to the podium and thanked the audience. A smattering of flashbulbs went off.
“Oh, I nearly forgot,” exclaimed Mrs. Dawson, standing at his side. “Excuse me, Alex.”
After reclaiming the microphone, she announced, “Children, we have a surprise guest with us this morning. Many of you know her as an educator who has volunteered countless hours in the classroom.”
“But you may not know that she is also the author of several books for children and young adults, including the one Alex will be sharing with us today.”
“Please welcome to the stage, Miss Cara Williams!”
Even though she was expecting the announcement, her mouth went dry when she heard her name. Her feet felt rooted to the floor. Her hands shook as she opened the door and walked out of the prop room.
She pushed the back of her hand against the red velvet curtain. Her eyes locked with Alex’s, and she could see that he was stunned to see her.
The applause made her knees jittery and her heart beat faster as he started walking toward her from the other end of the stage, his eyes never leaving her face.
And she couldn’t take her eyes off him. His navy blue button-down shirt and black dress pants barely contained his sexual magnetism. It lit her body on fire in such a way that made her blush under the hot stage lights.
He was movie-star beautiful, emanating an aura of confidence and self-assuredness that would fool anyone into thinking he was on top of his game.
Only she knew the truth. He was scared. For better or worse, his whole future was about to change.
They met in the middle and her heart leaped in surprise at the grateful smile on his face.
Alex took her gently by the elbow and leaned in close. The scent of his cologne made her mind flash back to the first time he kissed her, and she felt a rush of desire.
Applause encircled them both, but all she heard was his voice whisper low in her ear.
“Thank you for being here.”
He linked his arm with hers as he escorted her to the podium as if she were royalty.
He gave her hand a squeeze before he gently let it go. In that moment, she desperately wanted to grab it back, to capture forever the warmth and protectiveness of his flesh on hers.
Alex stepped up to the microphone and Mrs. Dawson motioned to her to sit on one of the folding chairs near the podium.
He unsnapped his saxophone from his lariat and placed it in his instrument stand. He waited patiently until the applause ended before speaking.
“Thank you, everyone, for the warm welcome. It certainly has been a morning of surprises.” Her face heated with embarrassment as he turned and glanced at her.
He turned back to the audience. “And I think we may be in for a few more before we’re finished here today. But first, I need you guys to answer a couple of questions. Let’s say your parents are out of town and you’re free to do whatever you want. How many of you would play video games?”
Almost all of the hands in the room shot up.
“How many of you would watch TV or surf the internet?”
Most of the hands were raised.
“Uh-huh, and how many of you would just be hanging with your crew?”
More than a few hands popped up.
“Okay, so how many of you would sit back and read a book?”
Cara counted about seventy-five kids who raised their hands in a crowd of about three hundred. Those who did raise their hands did so tentatively, like they were ashamed.
“Okay, how many would be doing their homework?”
No one raised their hand and everyone laughed, including Alex.
“When you’re a kid, you don’t realize how important it is to learn how to read,” he said, his tone now more serious. “You’d rather be doing anything else in the world because you may think reading is boring, it’s hard, or it’s just not cool.
“I used to feel the exact same way. School didn’t come easily to me. As a matter of fact, I hated it. Eventually I just gave up. I dropped out in the ninth grade and I never graduated from high school. But something much worse happened.” He paused for a few beats. “I never learned to read.”
There was a murmur of voices and Cara saw several teachers glance at each other at this strange turn of events. The reporters and news crew at the back of the auditorium were perking up and whispering to each other.
