Ma’Kentu attempted to walk away only to be called back a second time. Taking the phone in hand, he snapped, “Now what Charlotte!” The voice was familiar, but it was not Charlotte’s voice.
“Hello, is that you, Ma’Kentu?”
Embarrassed, his tone lightened considerably…apologetically. “Margo, I’m-
I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Sure - sure it is,” he stammered, trying to regain his composure. “Look, the fellahs and I have a three o’clock sound check and rehearsal. If you want to, I can meet you within the hour and have lunch with you, maybe even pick up where we left off with our interview, okay?”
“I was hoping you’d say something along those lines. I can’t wait,” she answered delightfully.
“Good, then. I’ll call you back in about forty-five minutes.”
With Charlotte back on the scene, he felt like a few things just might have to wait until he could figure out her reason for reappearing in his life. With time running out on Margo’s visit, it was imperative that he find a quick resolution to this awkward situation. He was not about to lose her over a past mistake. No way! Still, he wondered what Charlotte might be up to.
Chapter 5
The transportation arrangement in Washington, DC, suited Margo well. First class all the way. Treated as if royalty, a sleek pearl colored limousine pulled up to her as she stood outside of the hotel’s main lobby. As if on cue, the rear door opened wide.
Climbing in, she joined Ma’Kentu on their otherwise solitary drive thru the giant maze of government buildings and embassies until they crossed the Potomac River, arriving at an area that was home to an ominous sculpture known as the Waking Man. It was liken to a colossus, a Greek titan rising up out of the earth, half his torso still encased in it. The two began their walk.
Maybe it was the sweet fragrance of her perfume. Maybe it was her soft angelic smile. Maybe it was the way the wind gently fluffed her soft dark hair. Maybe it was the way her hazel green eyes, eyes filled with a curious deep longing, followed his eyes. Maybe, he just wanted to. Whatever it was, he felt compelled to lean forward and steal a kiss. Though brief, it was just as sweet and tender as their first kiss. As before, his bold kiss left her head spinning, and such that she found herself struggling just to keep her composure.
“You know, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said, looking up into his smiling eyes.
“What, my kiss?” he said confidently.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I meant.”
Ma’Kentu stopped and faced her, focusing his eyes on her quivering lips. “But it did and it will again.”
“You sound rather sure of yourself.”
“If it’s my confidence you’re talking about, I get buckets full of it whenever I’m around you, Margo.”
“If you say so,” she replied, unable to hide the amusement flickering in her eyes.
Arriving at the colossal sculpture, the two took a seat on a nearby park bench facing the wide mist covered river. A long-lens camera was slung over his left shoulder. Though the sky was slightly overcast, it was still a beautiful day. There was a poignant silence before anyone spoke.
“You know, we seem to migrate to waterfront areas,” said Margo, opening her laptop.
Ma’Kentu paused to look out over the river, then he returned his dreamy gaze to her, saying, “Yes, I’ve noticed. But you know something, jazz and water go together. It’s a spiritual thing. That’s probably why jazz got its very start in the port city of New Orleans. It’s a city bursting with spirituality.”
“And a city that could very well still sink into the Gulf again,” she added, mesmerized by his piercing, captivating eyes.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Well, it’s interviewing time again. Are you ready?”
“Yep, I’m ready,” he chuckled.
After a second, she got a grip on herself and began the interview.
“For starters, let me ask what success means to you?” she said, as she positioned her fingers over the keyboard.
Leaning back against the bench, Ma’Kentu paused for a moment, then replied, looking her casually in the eyes, “Success to me is achieving that which is worthwhile and worth having. It all begins with the dreamer and the dream. Few successful people ever get far without first being dreamers.”
Margo gazed deep into his eyes. “Are you a dreamer?”
“Yes, very much,” he answered with quiet assurance. “And I’m building my dream, which happens to be my band’s success, one note at a time. And when it comes to love, I take it one kiss at a time.”
Ma’Kentu’s response pulled Margo from her thoughts. “Okay,” she murmured with a glowing smile, as she typed on. “Now, is all that’s happening to you currently what you thought it’d be?”
Leaning forward, he stared at her until she acknowledged him with her sparkling green eyes. Only then did he speak. “You know, there was a time I could only afford one suit and one pair of shoes a year. It was a struggle. Well, it’s much different now. When success finally came my way I looked it right in the eyes…just as I am looking at you now. And I can say it feels damn good! I feel even better knowing I am able to do for others, as well as do for myself.”
Gazing up at him, through her long lashes, she blushed, saying, “I see.”
There was a pause.
“Okay, it’s time for a break,” he declared.
Reaching down, he took the camera into his hands and aimed it at the river and started clicking away. Standing up, he pointed the camera in her direction and snapped several more shots. She blushed and laughed and brushed her hair back several times.
Pausing, he said, “May I ask a question?”
“Sure.”
“How did you wound up with hazel green eyes and an Italian sounding last name?”
With a chuckle, she said, “My father was a Black American and my mother Italian. They never married so I kept my mother’s maiden name. That’s how. Now, my eyes…they are green because I’m wearing green contacts.”
“Yeah, I thought it might be something like that,” he laughed back, looking away briefly.
“Yeah, right,” she laughed too.
“Black Italian. I never heard of that one before.”
“Well, now you have.”
Leaning down on one knee, he aimed the camera upward, focused it, and took in the beauty of her radiant smile as she sat on the bench gazing down at him. Click. Click. Click.
“Though my father and his parents were born in America he was raised in Italy. You see, my grandfather was stationed in Italy while serving in the United States Army.”
“I see.”
“My parents met and fell in love at an early age. He was twenty and she was eighteen. She came to America to attend college just before my grandparents returned to the States to retire. My father and mother hooked up again here in the States and had me. They had planned on marrying. But my father was killed in a car accident and my mother went on to become an American citizen.”
“I see.”
A short time later, her lovely smile faded away. “May I ask you something?”
Ma’Kentu paused and averted his eyes momentarily. It was the tone in her voice, along with her solemn look, that alerted him. No doubt, something was on her mind.
“Ma’Kentu,” she said, reclaiming his gaze. There was a nagging in the back of her mind that refused to be stilled. “Who’s Charlotte?”
His face suddenly tensed, his brows drew together in an agonized expression.
“She’s someone from your past, I gather,” she answered for him in an impersonal tone.
Finally looking up, he turned to Margo. “You are referring to the phone call at the hotel, I assume. Charlotte is someone I dated over a year ago… here in DC. Short story…the woman thought there was more to the relationship than it actually was.
“Believe me, it was never all that. I told her from t
he very beginning that I was not interested in a serious relationship with her. But she wasn’t hearing that. Anyway, she’s old news.”
“I see,” said a more demure and distant sounding Margo.
“Margo, that’s the truth.”
“I was just curious,” she said, gazing off in the direction of the river.
Later, the two returned to the more comfortable interior of the limousine and drove off, passing several national monuments along the way. Few words were exchange, though. At a nearby mall, they did some light shopping. Then they returned to the hotel to freshen up.
The two had obviously been lovers. But was there more to Ma’Kentu’s relationship with Charlotte than what he had told her, Margo thought? “Damn!” she blurted, pacing her room in her slip. But after a few minutes she ceased to ponder the matter any further. When she did, her thoughts took on more clarity. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, what he said rang with truth. As such, there was no reason not to believe his story, she concluded.
Taking a warm shower she began to have warm thoughts about him and what it would be like to have him here, up close, in the flesh, adoring her with passion-filled eyes. She imagined his touch to be different from any other touch, his kiss different than any other kiss, his love, deeper than any other love experienced before or now. If only he was here, she pondered. Drying off she began to dress.
Glancing into a large wall mounted mirror she smiled. Surely he would approve of her desirous look; unbridled she was, adorn only in a black silk camisole and matching black panties. Putting an end to her erotic thoughts, she combed her curly hair and finished dressing.
Though she was hungry, there was no time for them to grab a bite to eat. Dinner would have to come later. Collecting her pocketbook and a light shawl, she headed out to the front entrance of the hotel to await the band’s limousine. Her wait was less than ten minutes.
Stepping out of the vehicle, looking handsome and dapper in his black tuxedo, Ma’Kentu smiled and greeted her with a kiss to the cheek. Entering, she greeted the jocund band members, who were also draped handsomely in matching black tuxedos. What a debonair looking group, she thought.
Running a little behind schedule, the entourage arrived at the Kennedy Center just before five. After a very brief rehearsal Margo noticed that Ma’Kentu was less talkative than usual. It wasn’t something sudden. He had been that way ever since she mentioned Charlotte’s name to him earlier that afternoon. With mild concern in her tone, she inquired about his sudden reticence, but he denied anything was wrong. She wasn’t buying this, though. She suspected his concerns had something to do with Charlotte’s sudden and unwelcome emergence on the scene. It was her intuition, nothing more.
The center was sold out. Taking the mike in hand, Ma’Kentu greeted the audience of politicians, doctors, lawyers, government workers and people from the business and entertainment field. “Hello DC!” he shouted from the freshly shellacked wooden stage floor.
Immediately, the audience responded with a thunderous greeting of their own. “Thank you! Thank you very much,” Ma’Kentu replied appreciatively. “As you may all know, my name is Ma’Kentu Eu’Tabee and these great musicians you see behind me are the members of the Eu’Tabee Jazz Ensemble. Let me hear it now. Who’s in the house, DC?” The vast audience, enjoying the by-play, responded, “The Eu’Tabee Jazz Ensemble!” To which he replied, “And you know that! Again, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for showing us your love!” With that the audience gave an enthusiastic Washington, DC round of applause.
After the infectious response faded, he continued. “I want to say that we are happy to be here and we hope you enjoy the show. Let me add that we have a soon-to-be release CD. So please make sure you go out and purchase it. It’s a treat you all will enjoy immensely.” Another thunderous round of applause burst forth from the sea of concertgoers.
“Right now, we’re going to kick things off with one of my favorite songs, an upbeat and rather jazzy composition written by Grammy award winner Stevie Wonder, entitled I Wish. Y’all remember that one, don’t you? Sure you do. It goes like this: Looking back on when I was a little nappy-headed boy. And my only worry, what for Christmas, what would be my toy… There was another round of applause. “Y’all didn’t know I could sing, did y’all?”
The audience cheered.
“Anyway,” he added, making a slight acoustical adjustment to his bass guitar, “please feel free to sing along as we feature the very talented Little Maceo Parks, on alto sax!” With that said, he kicked off the popular tune with a vibrant bass intro. Maceo took up the melody after that. Before long, the place was a sea of head bobbing, foot stomping concertgoers. Though Ma’Kentu could not see Margo’s angelic face in the darkness of the auditorium, he played his heart out as if she was the only one in the audience worth his time, talent, and interest. Margo was all he cared about, aside from his music.
After the show, he hurried backstage where he quickly spied her. An easy smile spread wide across his face. Performing always put him in a good mood. “I hope you enjoyed the performance,” he greeted her. With a smile she hoped would send his pulse racing, Margo leveled her eyes on him and said, “I most certainly did, Mr. Eu’Tabee. I loved it!”
“Woman, you don’t know how much that makes my day,” he responded with eyes that reflected two sensuous flames.
“I can imagine,” she replied softly, happy to see that he was his old perky self again.
There was a pause.
“Hungry?”
“Very,” she replied.
“Well, after we drop off the band, I guess we’ll just have to go out and get something to eat,” he added, as his eyes roamed over her sensuous form. “Problem is, I know the fellahs will want to get something to eat, too. And right now, I want a private audience with you.”
“Look, I’ve got an idea,” she injected. “Along the way you and I can be dropped off at a diner and grab something to eat. The guys can continue on in the limo. We can catch a cab back to my place.”
“Your place?” he said incredulously, as he held her gaze.
“I may even let you inside, but just for a little while,” she smiled, reaching out to touch his hand.
“Just for a little while?” he chuckled.
“Just for a little while,” she echoed softly with a wide grin.
“I have to say, I like your proposal. Look, I’ll tell the guys about our dinner plans. Be right back, okay?”
Margo sighed as she watched him walk away. And what she saw she liked. The man had a boot-tae on him! Nice, round and firm it was. But her feelings went far deeper than primal lust. Whenever she was around him she felt wonderful, even bubbly inside. From what she could see, it was obvious that she was falling for him. As a professional, she knew this was not supposed to happen. But it was happening.
Al found Bassman talking with several of the guys. “Bassman,” Al whispered, once Ma’Kentu was in hearing range. “I need you to step over here for a minute, please.”
Sensing something urgent in Al’s tone, Ma’Kentu politely excused himself. The two walked a short distance away from the crowd, then stopped. “What’s up, Al?”
“Hey, there’s a fine looking honey backstage who’s asking for you. Were you expecting anyone else besides Margo, tonight?”
“Damn, Al,” Ma’Kentu grimaced. “I bet you its Charlotte.”
“Charlotte?”
“Charlotte Chase. Remember, she’s the woman I met here in DC last year.”
“Yeah, I remember now. Don’t tell me she’s still carrying a torch for you?”
“I don’t know what she’s carrying or what she’s up to. I’ll tell you one thing, though. The woman is bad news all around.”
“Want me to run interference until you and Margo can blow the scene?”
“Naah. I might as well deal with her once and for all. But thanks anyway, Al.”
“Anytime, Bassman.”
After a short search, Ma�
�Kentu found Charlotte. “Well,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I see you made it by tonight.” From what he could see Charlotte had not changed much. She was still as lovely a demon as they come. With the Devil’s cunning eyes, she was dressed just as seductively.
Eyeing him up and down covetously, her answer was, “Just barely, my dear. I’m almost embarrassed to say that I miss your entire set.”
“How unfortunate for you,” he said with a touch of sarcasm.
“My rental got a flat. But it’s good to see you, again,” she said, pushing back a loose strand of hair. “It’s been over a year. Ma’Kentu. Aren’t you even going to give an old acquaintant a hug?” she said, closing the distance between them.
Though an unwilling partner he embraced her.
Taking advantage of the situation, she stole a quick kiss.
Withdrawing, instinctively, he glared at her with piercing eyes, then with agitation evident in his tone, said, “Look, can we get to the point of your visit?”
“But Ma’Kentu darling, you haven’t told me how beautiful I look tonight,” she purred.
Though her eyes were still as lovely and penetrating as he remembered them, those same eyes now held a certain mischief about them. There were moments when they even looked menacing. But now that he had rebuffed her, her eyes steamed with fury.
“She’s here, isn’t she?” Charlotte asked, glancing about the area in hopes of spying her unknown nemesis.
Without responding directly to her question, he firmly asked her a second time to get to the point of her visit.
“My, are we testy tonight,” she snarled, then more solemnly, “Look, I didn’t come here to make a scene.”
“Okay,” he said, after weighing her words. “What do you say we go for a short walk?”
“Sure, why not?” she quipped, gripping his bicep loosely.
Completely alone backstage, the two stopped in midstride and faced one another. Ma’Kentu sighed. “All right, talk to me Charlotte,” he pleaded. “Tell me what it is that’s weighing heavy on your mind.”
Bassment Deep Page 8