by Donna Hill
“Mr. Lawson.” She stopped in front of him and hoped that he didn’t sense her sudden anxiety.
Rafe removed his shades and slid them into the breast pocket of his jacket. Bad move. Now she couldn’t think beyond the glow in his eyes and the intoxicating scent of his cologne.
“I hope you don’t mind that I looked you up since I was in town.”
She had a momentary brain freeze. “Well, I’m not sure if I mind or not. I would guess it depends on why you’re here.”
That grin again.
“We didn’t get a real chance to talk the night of the party.” He stepped closer, cutting off the space between them, slid his hands into his pockets and angled his head just a bit to the right. “I thought if I took you to dinner we could pick up where we left off.”
Avery blinked rapidly and shifted her weight. “Dinner? I... I really don’t think...that would be a good idea.”
Rafe gave the barest of shrugs. “Not a problem, only an invitation.”
His smile was just enough to stir the imagination.
Avery licked her bottom lip. “So what brings you to DC?”
“Meeting a friend. He’s playing a set tonight. Maybe if you’re not too busy—not eating dinner—” his eyes cinched with mischief “—you could stop by. You might like it. Good food, adult crowd, great music.” He extended his hand.
Avery glanced down and mindlessly placed her hand in his. The shock raced up her arm and raised the hair on the back of her neck. Her fingertips tingled.
Rafe dipped his head toward her. “I’ll let you get back to secretly servicing,” he said in a wickedly low voice that set her imagination on a chase down the lane of possibility.
“You have a way with words, Mr. Lawson.”
Rafe chuckled. “So I’ve heard.” His gaze ran lazily over her then settled on her eyes. “Good to see you again, Agent Richards.”
“You...too.”
“If you change your mind I’ll be at Blues Alley. Set starts at eight, last set at ten.”
“I can’t promise.”
“No promises needed. Enjoy your day.”
He turned and strode away and Avery felt he’d taken all the energy with him. She watched him push through the revolving door before merging in with the flow of bodies.
She spun away and right into Mike.
“Friend?”
“What?”
He lifted his chin toward the exit. “Friend of yours? I saw you two talking pretty close. Didn’t think you were seeing anyone with you so wrapped up in this job. You really need to think about letting me take you out. Lunch. Dinner.”
She was so annoyed that Mike snapped the spell of Rafe that she barely refrained from lathering him with the cuss words that she only held on to by sheer will.
“Excuse me,” she said and brushed by him.
Her hand trembled ever so slightly when she pressed the elevator button. She replayed when she’d first met Rafe. They’d barely shared more than a couple of sentences. From what she recalled she’d only given him her first name and certainly no reason for him to believe that he could simply show up at her office.
The doors opened. Even more alarming was how he even figured out what her last name was in order to find where she was stationed. She was the damned Secret Service! But clearly he must have used his father’s connections. She didn’t know if she should be flattered or pissed off.
Avery walked down the corridor and back to her small office, and plopped down in the chair behind her desk. Her body still vibrated and her usual methodically organized thoughts were in complete disarray.
She reached for her cell phone and called Kerry. The call went to voice mail, but while she was leaving a message, Kerry called her back.
“Hey, Avery, what’s up?”
“You will never guess who just left here.”
“Don’t make me guess.”
“Rafe Lawson,” she said in a pressed whisper.
“Say what?”
“Yes! He was here.”
“What did he want?”
Avery ran down the conversation.
“So let me get this straight. This fine-ass bachelor flies across the country, takes the time to track you down, asks you out for dinner and you say—no? Are you out of your damned mind?”
“No. I’m...cautious.”
“No. Crazy. What do you think can happen over dinner?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
“I don’t know,” she woefully confessed. She sighed heavily into the phone. “He... There’s something about him that...unsettles me.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I feel as if I lose control when he’s in my space.”
“Girl, girl...” Kerry laughed. “I only wish there was someone to make me feel that way.”
“I don’t. I can’t be all foggy-headed and tongue-tied.”
“Sis, you have got to give yourself some space to live and be a woman. This job can take a toll on the people in our lives and us. No one knows better than me. But every now and then we have to be our own number one priority.”
Avery was quiet. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be in a relationship. She just knew at this stage in her life it was almost impossible if she wanted to be successful. She was good at what she did, and after years of trying she’d finally gained, if not the love, at least the admiration of her father. She didn’t want to lose that over something that probably would never last.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” Kerry said, breaking into Avery’s thoughts.
“What deal?”
“I’ll go with you to Blues Alley and after the evening is over if you still feel the same way...I’ll shut my mouth on the subject.”
It would give her a chance to see Rafe again without being out there on her own. “Okay.”
“Great. So you want to go to the first set or the last?”
“First. I’m on duty tomorrow morning.”
“Too bad. I’m off.”
“Don’t rub it in. Meet you out front at 7:30?”
“Perfect.”
“So I’ll see you later.”
“Later.”
Avery disconnected the call and leaned back in her chair. A giddy sensation fluttered in her center. She looked at the time on her phone. Seven hours. This was going to be a very long day.
Chapter 3
It had been several months since he’d been to the DMV area. Driving through the streets of DC brought back a mixture of memories.
He’d partied hard in the nation’s capital, frequenting the many clubs and after-hours spots, either as a musician or one of the revelers. He’d been enamored with the city since his youth, enough that he left Tulane’s grad school and enrolled in Howard University, much to his father’s disappointment, which suited Rafe just fine. The only saving grace was that Branford believed he would be able to keep an eye on his son if he was in the city where he wielded power and also claimed as a second home. Neither reality fazed Rafe in the least. If anything it fueled his bad boy ways: speeding tickets to tabloid news to barroom brawls. Yet somehow he managed to graduate with his master’s degree in music history and composition and built a reputation on campus as one of the most talented sax players of his generation. He’d even been offered a teaching position after graduation, but he turned it down. As much as he loved everything about music he wasn’t ready to be tied down to one place.
The rows of town houses, in a range of browns and dusty red hues, stood in perfectly proportioned squares of grace, adorned with flower-bearing urns all shaded by century-old trees. The neighborhood was reminiscent of times gone by when the roads were cobblestone and horse-drawn carriages were the preferred m
ode of transportation.
Rafe parked his rented Mercedes out front and took his carry-on from the trunk. He opened the black gate and walked down the short path to the door. Even though he did not stay in town often, he had Alice come twice per month to clean and air out the rooms. He’d called in advance of this visit to make sure the fridge and the bar were stocked. Alice always did an outstanding job, and as usual today was no exception.
When he walked in he was greeted with a vase of fresh flowers in the foyer and the smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen. He dropped his bag in the hall and followed the scent.
Alice was busy at the sink washing vegetables for a salad. Rafe eased up behind her and slipped his arms around her thick waist.
Alice gave a slight squeal of surprise and giggled like a schoolgirl rather than a grandmother of three when Rafe placed a kiss behind each ear. She playfully smacked his hands.
“Still being a rascal, I see. Half scared me to death.”
Rafe kissed her again. “Aw, come on, cher.” He turned her around and looked her over. “Still the prettiest girl at the party.”
Alice’s cheeks flushed. “Oh go on.” She shooed him away.
Rafe lifted the cover of the simmering pot and inhaled pure bliss. “Will you marry me, Ms. Alice?” he teased when he saw the jambalaya.
“I have no intention of standing at the end of the line waiting my turn.”
“Aww, Ms. Alice, if you promise to fix your famous jambalaya at least once a week, I swear I’ll put you right up front.”
Alice’s round face crinkled with laughter. She wagged a finger at him. “One of these days you’re going to run into just the right woman to make an honest man out of you.”
“You really think so?” he asked, growing serious.
She looked him in the eye. “If you slow down and stop running so fast you’ll see her.” She lightly shoved him aside. “Now go on and let me finish up. I’m meeting some friends in town.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Rafe retrieved his bag from the hall and went upstairs. His room, like the rest of the house, was as he’d last seen it. But he knew it had been dusted and polished and the linens changed. He went over to the walk-in closet and was pleased to find that his clothes had arrived ahead of him and were neatly hung. He smiled and closed the door. What would he do without Alice?
Rafe slid out of his jacket, tossed it on the club chair by the window then unbuttoned his shirt and let it join his jacket.
A quick shower, a change of clothes and then he needed to get with Quinten about tonight. He was pretty certain that Q would be more than cool with him joining the set tonight, but he didn’t want to take anything, especially their friendship, for granted. He wanted to be sure just in case Avery did show up.
He didn’t understand why it mattered that she cared or whether she showed up. The very idea that he’d gone through his kid brother to find out who she was, rearranged his life to fly to DC to see her and was feeling like a horny teen just thinking about her gave him pause.
This was not his MO. Totally out of character. Although he’d been known to be impulsive at times he was always deliberate when it came to the women in and out of his life and the relationships he chose to pursue. In those instances he’d never been driven by emotion but rather need, desire or simply the wish of a woman that he wanted to see satisfied.
Avery. He was uncertain and he didn’t particularly like it, but he felt challenged to venture down this new avenue.
* * *
Rafe found a parking space a little more than a block from Blues Alley, then took a slow stroll back to the club. As he’d figured when he called Quinten to let him know he was in town, Q was more than happy to have his best friend join him onstage, and Rafe was really looking forward to playing in front of an audience.
He adjusted his sax case over his shoulder and pushed through the doors of the club. He was momentarily delayed by an overzealous security guard who advised Rafe that the club didn’t open until four, but quickly offered his apologies when Quinten walked over, embraced Rafe in a one-arm hug and introduced him.
“This is my man, Rafe Lawson. He’s with the band. Rafe, Phil... He keeps an eye out.”
Rafe extended his hand. “Phil.”
“My apologies.”
“None needed for doing your job.”
They shook hands and then Rafe followed Quinten to one of the back rooms.
“How you doing, bruh?” Quinten asked while he pulled open the door to the mini-fridge and took out a bottle of water. He handed it to Rafe and grabbed one for himself. “Glad you called, man.”
“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good. Can’t complain.” He sat on the side of the desk and twisted the top off the water bottle. “It’ll be like old times tonight.”
“Truth.”
“How’s Rae?”
“Fine as evah,” he said with a grin. “Jamal is in his second year of college. Can you believe that? Tall as me and swears he’s all that.”
The two friends laughed.
“Chip off the old man’s block,” Rafe joked. “I’d love to see him.”
“Yeah, you need to catch up on your part-time godfather duties.”
“Aw man, easy. You got to admit I have never missed a birthday, holiday or graduation.”
“Yeah, yeah, you right. Just messing with you.”
“Talk to Maxine?” Maxine Sherman and Quinten once had a tumultuous relationship, but Q’s heart had been with Nikita. When Nikita died in that car accident, Rafe wasn’t sure if Quinten would ever be right again. Him, their buddy Nick Hunter and his then-girlfriend Parris McKay rallied around Q. Then he met Rae and she literally breathed life back into him. It was well after Nikita’s passing that he found out about Jamal—his son with Maxine. Stressful times, but everything worked out. Maxine married Taylor, a great guy who loved Jamal like his own, and Q and Maxine knew that the most important person was their son. When Jamal started high school he came to live with his father and Rae, and then went to Howard.
“Maxine is doing real well. We talk a couple of times a month.” He smiled wistfully.
“Ever have any regrets about your relationship with Maxine?”
Quinten gave a shrug. “I used to when J was a kid, but we all made choices and when I met Rae...” he grinned “...that was it. Hooked.”
Rafe nodded slowly. “Guess it happens for a chosen few.” He pushed up from the side of the desk, took a swallow of water and looked at his friend. “Me? Not happening. I like my life just the way it is, free, easy, no commitments.”
“That’s what we all say, my brother.” He chuckled from deep in his chest and took a band from his pocket to gather up his mid-shoulder-length locs. He fastened them at the nape of his neck. “Come on up front. Let’s check the stage and the mics. The rest of the band should be here in a few.”
The Quinten Parker Quartet had made a name for themselves touring the States and Europe. Q’s wife, Rae, a star in her own right, added a bit of splash to the quartet with her provocative spoken word.
Quinten asked him more times than he could count to join the band. Each time Rafe graciously turned him down. He enjoyed the liberating feeling of playing where and when he wanted, recording in the studio when he was ready, popping up at clubs to be a featured performer, being his own man with his own business. Totally independent. Being tied to anything or anyone didn’t work for him. He’d tried it. Once was enough.
“Hey,” Quinten said, his tone softened. He anchored his hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “It’s been a long time.” He looked his friend in the eye, knowing.
Rafe’s jaw reflexively clenched. “Yeah, it has. Doesn’t change anything.” His brow arched to punctuate his point.
Quinten held his hands up in submission. “I hear ya.” He pus
hed open the back-room door and they entered the club space.
Rafe stepped up onto the stage. Q was right. It had been a long time, sixteen years and counting. But like he’d said, time didn’t change anything. So he filled those years with music, good food, expensive liquor, beautiful women, world travel and trying to forget. That was the life he’d created for himself and he was fine with it.
Chapter 4
Mike fell in step next to Avery as they exited the conference room.
“You never did say who the guy was down at security.”
Avery barely glanced at him. “You’re right. I didn’t.” She quickened her pace but Mike matched her stride for stride.
“I’m curious why Senator Lawson’s son would be here to see you.”
Avery slowed for an instant. Her temper flared, but she would not let Mike get under her skin. “How about it’s none of your damned business.” She stopped in midstride and spun toward him. “The next time you have the itch to either check the visitor’s log or review security footage to check up on me, I’ll report you for sexual harassment.”
“Whoa! Just hold on. It’s nothing like that and you know it.”
“Do I?” she challenged. The glint of fire in her eyes held him in place. “Have a good day, Mike, and stay out of my way.”
Avery’s heart thundered. She hurried down the corridor and back to her office. The weekly staff meeting was draining enough without having to deal with Mike and his nonsense. Something had to change.
She closed her office door behind her, sat at her desk and booted up her computer. She did a quick check of her email, then updated her calendar based on the new assignments given at the meeting. Those minor details out of the way, she checked her service weapon in her underarm holster, took her purse from the bottom drawer and headed out for the day.
Inside her car with her office now in her rearview, she felt herself begin to unwind but quickly felt a different surge of tension as the sound of Rafe’s voice came alive in her mind. A mild shudder rippled through her limbs. She gripped the steering wheel tighter.