“I’m so sorry for your loss. The death of a loved one is often hard. But do you really want to volunteer? I’d hate to have you commit to helping out here and—”
“And then drop the ball like I did with Frankie?” The pain in his voice was palpable.
Something in her wanted to soothe the frown on his face. If she was honest, something in her wanted to soothe the pain in his soul. It was almost as if she could feel it, all of his pain and disappointment right there, laid bare for only her. And being in such close proximity to him was such a bad idea.
There was something about his scent. And it wasn’t just the fresh fragrance of his cologne. No, she could have handled that. It was something uniquely his, some thing like nutmeg, the air after a summer rain and desire. And smelling him was surely making her stupid, because before she could call it back, she stood, walked over to the front of her desk, stood in front of him and reached out her hand to touch him.
She stroked his cheek, and a tingle traveled from her fingers to her core. “You didn’t drop the ball with your cousin. You did the best you could. That’s the only thing we can do. I learned that a long time ago.” She moved her hand and immediately regretted the move. “You know, volunteering here can’t replace your cousin. It won’t bring him back.”
“But it will help me honor his memory. I realize now that anyone can give money. That’s pretty easy when you have a lot of it. But time is something that is so much more valuable. It’s precious, because it’s the one thing you can’t get more of no matter how much money you have. Nothing lasts forever.” He paused and shook his head.
He smiled before continuing. “Wow, I just remembered this weird part of my dream. These voices saying something about souls connected and lasting forever or something like that.”
Her heart felt like it had stopped. But it couldn’t have stopped, because if it had then her eyes wouldn’t be bugging and her mouth wouldn’t be open and she wouldn’t be taking a large, gulping breath. But it felt like it had stopped. How in the world was it possible that Darius had dreams so similar to the ones she’d had?
She opened her mouth and closed it again. She wasn’t going to touch it because she didn’t believe in that woo-woo stuff, damn it!
“Anyway, I want to give something that is more meaningful. I want to give my time. I know it won’t bring my cousin back. I know I’m too late to save him, and that will always hurt my soul. But I can hopefully help others and have an impact on others. And I can learn from this tragedy. I know that. I can learn…”
Listening to the pain in his voice made her chest feel as if it were cracking under a huge boulder. The pressure was almost unbearable. She knew she had to do something.
“You can volunteer here.”
What the hell? Did she just say that?
“On a trial basis. We’ll go day by day and see how it works out. But I don’t want my center turned into a circus, so keep your entourage or groupies or whatever you call them away.”
Are you insane? This man is temptation walking. You need to send him packing! The voice in her head sounded like an alarm clock ringing and fire alarms screeching at the same time. But she wasn’t listening to it.
He looked up at her, and even though his eyes were still sad, he smiled. He smiled, and her chest felt suddenly lighter. Then she offered a goofy smile of her own.
“Thanks, Karen. You won’t regret it.”
“I hope not. Okay, well, I might as well give you a tour and let you know what you’ll be doing around here. There’s a lot of work to be done. Let’s hope you don’t have second thoughts once you see how much.”
“I’m sure I won’t. I want to do this.”
She stood up. “Okay. So, during the school year we have several after-school programs running and some skills programs during the day for kids who have been kicked out of school or who have various parole situations—mostly juvenile delinquents who come and get skills training while they look for jobs. In the summer, we run all kinds of enrichment and cultural programs all day and work with anywhere from one hundred to two hundred kids. The summer, as you can see by all the youth in the building today, is a very busy time for us. It’s hard to meet the need and demand, and we’ve had to cut back some programs due to budget constraints. We didn’t get a major grant we applied for and the money I had to start with… Well let’s just say things are tight right now. That’s why, at the end of the day…no matter what I think about the kind of influence you’ll be on the youth, I can’t turn down the free labor. We need all the help we can get.”
He winced and took a sip of his coffee before giving her that intense sideways look of his again. “So you think I’m a bad influence?”
The way he phrased the question and the confident tilt of his head told her he could care less what she thought about him. But there was a hint of something else there that she couldn’t name or place.
It was that hint that made her want to backtrack and hedge instead of hold her ground. It wasn’t his fault the current trend in hip-hop did nothing to motivate the youth. His party-and-dance approach to music and life wasn’t bad, per se. It just wasn’t political or progressive or relevant to the struggle of their people. But who was she to judge?
Then again, his last album had several of the hottest party anthems of last summer on it. The hooks alone were calls for self-interested, live-and-let-live, fight-for-your-right-to-party nonsense. So she supposed if anyone was at fault it would be him.
“I think you could be a better influence if you put your mind to it. You’re positive. You’re nice. You’re generous. But you’re not very political. The kids need to be able to think critically about and deal with all of the stuff that life is throwing at them. Some of these kids, the girls and the boys, are just one good experience away from a lifetime in the correctional system. When they hear your music and the way you glamorize the kind of party and bullshit mentality, let’s just say it gives them false ideas about just how invincible they are. So let’s just keep it real.”
“So I guess you didn’t have these kinds of issues with Shemar?”
Unable to help it, Karen almost choked on her caramel latte. The mention of her deceased best friend changed the entire self-righteous tone of her stance and voice. She and Shemar had grown up together, although he was a few years older than her. He’d struggled throughout his life with which path to take. Sometimes his music was uplifting—even revolutionary. But for the most part, he released gangsta-rap lyrics laced with violence and misogyny. And she had named her center for him, because like Darius with his cousin, she needed to do something to uplift the good parts of his memory.
“Shemar and I grew up together, and I was close to him and his family. His death was a loss for me personally and for hip-hop because he never really tapped the potential for positive change that his music could have been.”
“But that didn’t stop you from taking the money he left you to start this youth center.”
Whoa! Well, I guess he told me. She simply nodded her head. “I wanted his legacy to do something positive.”
“Really? Then I guess I’m just thinking if you could cut Shemar some slack, then you could cut me some slack. I’m more than the music I make. And I do positive things with the money I make. I donate money through a foundation I set up to centers just like this. I don’t make a big deal out of it, because I don’t want to. I make the kind of music I make because it’s hot and it sells. I can’t help the poor if I’m one of them.”
Quoting Jay-Z was not going to make her cut him some slack. The intense tingly feeling she got when he came near? Well, that was another story.
His scent seemed to flare even more when he heated up—nutmeg, summer rain and desire. If desire had a smell it would smell like him. Yeah, now she was officially nuts, smelling nutmeg and stuff.
“Let’s not talk about Shemar.”
He hissed at that. “Fine. But you should know that I’m not damaging the youth. I’m an entertainer. I
live an upright life. I try my best to promote a positive lifestyle. But I’m just an entertainer. I make music and movies and try to be a positive role model. At the end of the day, that’s all I can do.”
“Because of the prison industrial complex, a lot of our kids don’t have fathers or mothers at home, and if we had more celebrities who had a political consciousness…” She let out an exasperated breath. “You know what? We can just agree to disagree on this one. I think that as a black man you have an obligation to want to uplift the race and help the youth. But that’s neither here nor there. My point is simply that some of the kids are hanging on by a string. They’re at crossroads that could mean the difference between life and death. And well, I just want you to keep that in mind when you’re interacting with them.”
She decided to just continue with the tour and stop trying to argue her political beliefs with him. They were clearly too different to see eye to eye on anything.
Chapter 5
She was the most infuriating, self-righteous, irritating woman he’d ever come in contact with!
And he was totally and completely enthralled with her, captivated to no end. It blew his mind that what she thought of him mattered so much to him.
As much as Darius tried to hold on to his indignation and attitude, there was something about the way her voice cracked when she was speaking. Something about the way he could sense her passion and her distress as she talked about these kids she loved that made him count to ten and calm way down. She obviously cared about the kids. That didn’t give her the right to blame him for the downfall of society, but he dug her fire. Hell, her fire turned him on.
He smirked. “Fine, I won’t encourage any partying or having fun around the kiddies.”
She shook her head and laughed, clearly glad for the olive branch and chance to lighten the mood. “Thank you. So, let’s finish this tour of the facilities. It’s small, but it’s home. You already saw my office and our reception area.”
Darius followed her throughout the facilities, halfway listening to what she was saying and thinking about why it bothered him so much that she seemed to have so many problems with him.
Truth be told, he shouldn’t even be concerned about what this woman thought. There were plenty of women out there ready, willing and able to take him as he was.
She hadn’t had any problems dealing with Shemar, and he was thugged out like nobody’s business. That guy had shot at cops, spit at reporters and even done some time in jail. Sure, he’d also made a couple of positive songs and had a revolutionary lineage and pedigree, but he didn’t do anything with it when he was alive.
Darius made sure he gave back to the community—at least financially. And now he was giving his time…to her center no less. And she still seemed to be wary of him.
He sighed.
None of that really mattered. What really mattered was the fact that Karen Williams seemed to think she was too good for him and he was no better than the crap on the bottom of her shoe. And that wouldn’t do at all. He would change her opinion of him if it was the last thing he did.
He watched the gentle sway of her hips in that long, black, crinkled skirt she was wearing. The material and length of the skirt meant he really had to use his imagination to envision what she might look like underneath. Good thing he still had a vivid memory of her curves in the jeans she’d wore the other day. She had on a red, black and green T-shirt with “Dead Prez” on the front and “Get Free or Die Trying” on the back.
He shook his head as he thought about her saying that she liked political rap groups like Dead Prez and Public Enemy. He made it his new mission to make sure that D-Roc became one of her all-time favorite rappers.
“And this is one of the rooms where some of our improvement courses are held. Right now there is a literacy class going on. You’d be surprised how many people make it to high school without knowing how to read and write. And once they get caught up in the system or get kicked out of school, it’s hard to get them to see the benefit.”
Darius peered through the glass window of the door. There were about five older teens in there and a guy who looked to be about thirty or so. He assumed that the guy writing on the board in an animated manner must have been the instructor.
“That’s Tony Marcello. He’s really great with the kids. He’s one of our best volunteers.”
Tony looked up and waved at Karen. When he noticed Darius, Darius saw the glimmer of recognition in the man’s eyes. The olive-complexioned man with dark black wavy hair vigorously waved them in then, and Darius caught the brief moment of hesitation followed by a sigh coming from Karen.
“I guess now is as good a time as any to start introducing you to folks, but it’s not like you need any introduction.”
They walked into the classroom, and the five students immediately started talking at once, asking for autographs and saying they couldn’t believe he was really there. Some of them started snapping pictures with their cell phones.
“Stop it. You will not take pictures of Mr. Rollins without his permission. You will respect his privacy and treat him the way you would want to be treated. The first person I find trying to snap a picture of Mr. Rollins while he is here helping us out will be the first person to be shown the door. It won’t be tolerated.”
Darius had to admit Karen was no-nonsense. She had that stern teacher thing down. He couldn’t help but smile.
“It ain’t like he really wanna be here anyway. I don’t see why we have to respect him. He don’t really care ’bout what goes on down here.” A tall, skinny young kid named Tyrone twisted his lips to the side as he gave Darius a mean look.
“I do care. And I would be more than happy to take pictures with every single one of you before my time is up. But I won’t take pictures with anyone who is not doing what they are supposed to be doing around here.” Darius cracked a smile at the kids who seemed excited to see him.
“Man, you act like somebody sweating you for your pictures or something. It ain’t even like that,” Tyrone snapped.
“I understand that, son. And that’s cool. But if there are some young people who want to take a picture with me, then they need to be sure to do what they are supposed to be doing around here.” He didn’t know how stern he should be with the young man, but he knew for sure that he wasn’t about to let him be so blatantly disrespectful.
“Tyrone, you need to watch that tone or you’ll be heading home.” Karen slanted her eyes menacingly and put her hand on her hips.
Darius could tell that Karen worked well with the kids, and he was suitably impressed. However, he felt that a fine woman like her shouldn’t have to put up with knuckleheads like Tyrone.
“Sorry, Ms. Williams, but I’m just saying though…he acting like he all that or we sweatin’ him or something,” Tyrone hissed.
“That’s enough, Tyrone.” Karen didn’t give an inch.
The boy shrugged and sulked.
Darius could tell Tyrone was torn between continuing his cool pose or straightening up so that he wouldn’t further aggravate Karen. Darius kept his gaze focused on the young man. In a lot of ways, Tyrone reminded him of himself when he was a kid. Darius turned to Karen and noted that she had crossed her arms and was tapping her foot. Her eyes never left Tyrone’s face.
Finally, Tyrone looked up sheepishly and cracked a half smile at Karen. “Aww, come on, Ms. Williams, you ain’t got to put me on blast like that.”
“It seems like I do, Tyrone. Are you going to apologize to Mr. Rollins or go home? We don’t have all day.”
“Man… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean no disrespect.” The words hardly sounded heartfelt coming from between Tyrone’s tightly clenched teeth.
It was all Darius could do not to laugh at the hard-won apology. But he accepted it anyway.
“Okay.” Karen gave Tyrone a pointed look. “Mr. Rollins and I are going to finish his tour of all facilities.”
“Oh, Ms. Williams, can’t he hang out here with us for a litt
le while?” One of the young women batted her eyes as she made the plea.
“Nope! You guys have lots of information to cover. You want to do well on those GED exams, don’t you?” Karen flashed a sweet dimpled smile.
Darius waved at the students and teacher as he followed her out of the classroom.
“As you can see, you need to keep a firm balance. The kids will try you if they can.” Karen shook her head as she spoke.
“Yeah, I see.” Darius nodded.
They toured the rest of the small facilities in relative silence, with Karen just pointing out things.
When they finally returned to her office, she stood in the doorway for a moment before entering.
Darius stared at her, taking in her brown eyes with the most brilliant bronze flecks and her auburn locs with a mixture of bronze, copper and one blond loc. On any other woman he figured the multicolored hair would look crazy. But on Karen, Darius couldn’t help but think she personified beauty.
He inhaled. There was something about her scent that seemed to beckon him forward. So he leaned forward.
She backed into the door frame, and a tentative smile crossed her lips. If he didn’t know that they’d just taken a tour of the facilities, he would have sworn they had just had a date and he was saying goodbye to her after walking her to her door. He got the sudden urge to kiss her.
“You’re beautiful.” He had to say it.
“Thank you, Darius. But—”
“Listen, I really don’t want to be forward. I really want to take my time, get to know you, court you. All that good stuff… But right now, I need you to move into the office and close the door.” He couldn’t believe he had just given her those directions, and he could tell she couldn’t believe it either.
Her eyes widened, and she hesitated slightly before moving slowly backward.
He followed her lead and closed the door behind them. “I’m going to kiss you.” Leaning forward, he covered her lips with his own.
Make It Last Forever Page 5