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Private Lessons

Page 4

by Donna Hill


  Brice watched her lips move, but even for a winning lottery ticket he couldn’t tell anyone what she’d just said.

  “Are you okay?”

  He reached for his glass of water. “Yeah.” He chuckled lightly. “Sorry, I was…thinking about what we could do today.”

  “Oh.” She smiled brightly, then reached across the table and touched his hand. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers. They are absolutely gorgeous.”

  His eyes crinkled in the corners. “So, did you accept them for pure enjoyment, or restitution?”

  She looked directly into his eyes. “Enjoyment.”

  “That’s what I was hoping you would say.”

  She propped her chin on her palm. “Why did you think you may owe me an apology?”

  His eyes moved slowly over her face. “For maybe coming on a little too strong.”

  “Do you honestly think that you did?” she gently probed.

  “I’m going to be real honest with you. When I’m with you, for whatever reason, my good sense seems to escape me.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh and slowly shook his head. “And that’s all the confession I intend to make,” he added, shifting the serious tone to a lighter one.

  Naomi lowered her gaze, unable to withstand the intensity of his eyes. She fumbled with her fork, just as the waitress approached their table with two bowls of fresh fruit, much to her relief.

  “Coffee or tea?” the waitress asked.

  “Tea,” they said in unison, then looked at each other and laughed.

  “Coming right up.”

  “If nothing else, we have tea in common,” Naomi said.

  “Do you really think that’s all we have in common?” he asked, his words taking on a probing, teasing tone.

  “Time will tell.”

  He lifted his glass and tipped it partially in her direction. “Touché’

  “You were saying that you’d been thinking of what we could do today.”

  “I thought you might like to go into town and look around at some of the shops. We could have lunch there, and then I thought we could take the tour up into the mountains and see some of the mansions. The nightlife is pretty great, parties all over. I mean…I may be jumping ahead of myself. I’m sure you came here with some plans of your own, so—”

  “No.” She held up her hand. “Sounds wonderful. I really didn’t have a clue about what to do with myself for a whole two weeks. I looked at a few of the brochures, but…” She shrugged her right shoulder.

  “I totally understand. So we’ll squeeze in every thing that we can.”

  And then it would be over, she thought. But she wouldn’t worry about that now. She’d have plenty of time for that.

  The waitress returned with their tea and brought a platter of codfish cakes and callaloo. The spicy aroma was mouthwatering, and before they realized it, they’d tossed aside all propriety and dug in.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Naomi muttered, finishing off her third fish cake. “These are incredible.”

  “Hmm,” Brice murmured with his mouth full. “It’s my favorite.”

  “Now it’s mine, too.”

  The restaurant began to slowly fill up with hotel guests, just as Brice and Naomi finished up their meal.

  “I’m going to go to my room and get a few things,” Naomi said. “What time did you want to leave?”

  “I have some calls to make.” He checked his watch. “How about we meet in the lobby about ten?”

  “See you then.” She started to move away.

  Brice caught her wrist. She stopped and turned, her eyes widened in question.

  He kissed her. “See you soon.”

  Her heart tumbled around in her chest. “Can’t wait.”

  He let her go and she walked off, keenly aware of his eyes on her until she turned the corner toward her the side of the elevator banks. It was only then that she dared to breathe. She pressed the button and tugged on her lip with her teeth, removing the last of her lip gloss.

  A trill of excitement, like a high note on a sax, rippled through her as the elevator ascended. She got off on her floor and walked down the corridor to her room.

  She slid the key card through the slot and pushed the door open, just as her cell phone buzzed in her purse. While stepping inside, she pulled out her phone and saw that the call was from Alexis. She pressed Talk.

  “Hey, Lexi.”

  “Hi, I got your message. You called pretty late. Is everything all right? You were rambling.”

  “I know, I know.” She walked fully into the room and kicked off her sandals, then plopped down on the club chair. She put her feet up on the matching ottoman. “Where do I begin? I guess I should tell you that I took your advice.”

  “What! Now that’s what I’m talking about. And it worked, didn’t it?”

  Naomi blew out a breath that preceded her smile. “Better than I could have imagined.”

  “Let me hear it, and don’t leave anything out.”

  Naomi brought Alexis up to date, including her afternoon and evening plans with Brice.

  “Whoa. I don’t know what to say, Naomi. Other than you are a damned good student. I knew all those smarts you had would come in handy outside of a classroom.”

  They laughed.

  “But I do hate lying. He seems like the kind of man I would want to be with. But now…”

  “Listen, this is all about now. Not tomorrow or the day after. Enjoy yourself. Get loose. Get some old-fashioned loving with a fine, intelligent man. Then you pack your bags at the end of next week and come back to the real world.”

  Naomi sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I may as well enjoy it while I can.”

  “And girl, I know I don’t have to tell you to use your own protection. I mean of course, if it gets that far.”

  Naomi flushed. She could barely imagine what it might be like to make love with Brice Lawrence. Her heart started racing just thinking about it. “I will, but I doubt it will go that far.”

  “Why? You said he told you that if he had his way he would be curling your toes. Well, not in those exact words, but you know what I mean. Sounds like he’s hot for you.” She paused. “Look, men do it all the time. Remember Stella in Terry McMillan’s How Stella Got Her Groove Back?

  “No.”

  Alexis shook her head. “Anyway, you need to get your groove back. I mean, come on Nay, there hasn’t been anyone of note in your life since Trevor, and that was almost two years ago. If you don’t use it, it might just dry up.”

  “Oh, stop,” she chided, mildly embarrassed. She hadn’t thought about Trevor in a long time, and that took some doing. They’d been seeing each other for nearly a year. She’d thought that he was the one. He was a professor at Morehouse, intelligent, fun, sexy—but a liar. He’d lied to her for the entire time they were together. All along he’d been seeing someone else, and she didn’t find out until she got a call from his fiancée! That nearly broke her. She’d never been so hurt and humiliated in her life.

  After that she buried herself in her books and work. Attaining the position of dean became her single focus. It filled her hours and her mind, but it didn’t fill the empty space in her heart.

  Alexis was right. She hadn’t had sex in twenty-two months and counting. And up until she met Brice, she’d been able to convince herself that the celibate life was fine with her. But she knew better. As much as she might protest, she loved sex. She loved being sexual. She loved what a skilled man could do to her body and she to his. But she covered that all up under the guise of propriety, drab suits, minimal makeup, black pumps and a stereotypical teacher’s bun. But there was another Naomi Clarke that was begging to come out.

  “You still there?”

  “Huh. Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”

  “I was saying to just relax and enjoy yourself. And bottom line, Nay, no matter what I say, do what’s in your heart to do.”

  Naomi thought about that while she changed clothes and prepared for her day and night ahead. S
he put her lipstick, her phone, room key, money and identification in her purse. Then she went to the dresser and took out her little makeup bag from the drawer. She unzipped it and stared at the pack of lubricated condoms. Before she could change her mind, she opened the box and took out two and tucked them in the zippered compartment in her purse.

  Just in case, she thought as she headed out.

  Chapter 5

  Brice was looking forward to his day with Naomi with unexpected excitement. It felt more important than it should. He’d spent more afternoons than he could count with wonderful women. There was no real reason why he should feel so new, so scrubbed clean, as if he’d taken a hundred rain forest showers. But he did, and it was jolting—as if he’d walked in on a surprise party and was actually surprised.

  His smiling reflection stared back at him. He felt genuinely good inside. He pulled his cotton polo shirt over his head and tucked it down into his slacks. A new kind of anticipation made him move with precision and purpose, from the clothes that he chose to wear to the cologne he splashed on his jaw to the extra care that he took with trimming the edges of his hair.

  Every move and decision that he made was inexplicably with Naomi in mind. He wanted to please her, to see her smile and have her eyes take on the light, the way they did when something made her happy. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand it. He felt as if he knew her, really knew her, even though that was impossible. And it was more than simple sexual attraction.

  A part of him wished that’s all that it was. At least that was something that made sense and was something that you could deal with and move on from. But there was this invisible string that kept tugging him in Naomi’s direction, even though he knew the chances of it going any farther than these next days was slim.

  He took his wallet from the top of the dresser and slid it into the back pocket of his slacks. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the woman put some mojo on him when he wasn’t looking. He chuckled at the ridiculousness of that thought and headed out to meet her. His grandmother had been a great believer in signs and symbols and old African legends and sayings. For every event in one’s life, his grandmother had a saying, a proverb or an herbal remedy to go with it. He chuckled to himself as he strode down the hallway to the elevator. He wondered what Grandma Mae would have to say to her grandson now.

  When he arrived at the lobby he took a slow look around to see if Naomi had already arrived. When his sweeping gaze found her, a burst of heat popped in the center of his chest. She was seated in the center of the room in the circular lounge area that had a waterfall as its centerpiece. From where he stood, she looked like a young girl instead of the very mature woman he knew her to be. Her long hair was pulled back and away from her face into a ponytail. She wore hoop earrings, a white tank top and white shorts that came halfway down her gorgeous thighs. Her legs were crossed and she was casually swinging one while she flipped through a magazine.

  “Hey there.”

  Naomi glanced up and a smile lifted the corners of her glossy mouth, and he realized how much he liked that way her eyes tilted upward when she smiled.

  “Hey.” She put the magazine down on the table.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “Not a problem. I can very easily keep myself busy. Between catching a glimpse of some of these outfits…under the guise of reading a magazine I kept my time well occupied.”

  Brice chuckled at her mention of the outfits that some people had on. It was clear that some clothes were not made for every body.

  “Ready?” He extended his hand and helped her to her feet.

  “Lead the way.”

  He held her hand as they crossed the lobby, and nothing could have felt more natural to Naomi. The pressure of his fingers around her hand was as comforting and familiar as her favorite quilt, making her want to snuggle up in it.

  Last night, after dinner with him, she had a hard time believing that it had all actually happened—and to her. Especially after the fiasco at the poolside bar. There was that skeptical, analytical part of her that thought that he very well might not show up for dinner. That the night before had only been a nice diversion, a way not to spend the evening dining alone. But then there was the kiss, her inner voice whispered. Was that imagined? A put-on? And when she’d come down to breakfast he was there. It was some false hope, some wishful thinking on her part. She stole a quick glance at him just to check one more time that he was real.

  “Since this is your first time, I thought you might be interested in the farmers’ market. Great place to pick up some souvenirs for your family and friends back home.”

  “Perfect. Is it far?”

  “About fifteen minutes. I rented a car.”

  “Really? Do you know how to drive on the wrong side of the road?”

  He chuckled as he pushed the door open. They got hit with a blast of hot air that was in deep contrast to the almost arctic air of the hotel. “It took me a while to get the hang of it, but I won’t run us into a ditch. How’s that?”

  She gave him a droll sideways glance. “That’s comforting.”

  “We’ll be fine. Promise.”

  They emerged onto the winding front entranceway of the Sandals Hotel. Immediately a red-jacketed valet was at their side.

  “Yes, how can I help you? Do you need a taxi?”

  “No actually, I rented a car.”

  “Oh, yes. Then please walk down to the booth and they will get your keys and your car, sir.”

  “Thank you.” This time he put his arm around Naomi’s waist. “This way, madame.”

  His arm felt too good, if that were possible. Not possessive, not matter-of-fact, as if he had the right, but simply there where his arm was supposed to be at that moment. The sensation of something greater than them bringing them together toyed with her head, even though she was a firm believer in fact not fate. She pulled in a short breath. Let it go, Naomi, she told herself. Relax and enjoy. Don’t analyze.

  They walked up to the booth and Brice gave his name. Moments later a navy blue Honda hybrid pulled up in front of them. The driver hopped out and came around to open the passenger door, handing the key to Brice, who gave him a tip before helping Naomi into the car. He came around front and got in behind the wheel.

  “This will be a double new experience,” Naomi said while she fastened her seat belt.

  “What’s that?” He adjusted the mirrors.

  “One, driving on the wrong side of the road, and two, in a hybrid. I’ve never been in one before.”

  “Me neither,” he said, looking for the ignition.

  “What?” Her voice had risen two octaves.

  He turned to her with bad-boy merriment in his eyes. “Just kidding.” He stuck the key into the ignition, put the car in Drive and pulled off.

  “Do you want the windows open, or do you prefer the air?”

  “Let’s keep the windows open,” she said. “I want to get the full flavor of the island.”

  “You’ll get a great breeze. I drive really fast.”

  Her head snapped in his direction, her eyes wide.

  He reached over the gear/shift and patted her thigh. “Just kidding.”

  “Oh, I see it’s going to be one of those days,” she teased.

  “It’s going to be a spectacular day,” he said, turning for an instant to look at her. And then he winked.

  The view on the trip into town was completely amazing. The brochures focused on the beaches and restaurants and the mountain views. They didn’t show pictures of rural Antigua, where the real people lived in communities that were taken out of the pages of history books. Unpaved roads; homes made of wood and stone; goats that roamed the streets as freely as the people; children playing barefoot; roadside vendors selling sweets and handmade crafts. Old, worn men and women sitting on drooping porches and steps. It was a completely different world, and she wasn’t sure if she should feel enlightened or saddened by what she saw.

  “I know what y
ou must be thinking,” Brice said, slipping into her thoughts.

  “What am I thinking?” She angled her body in the seat to get a better look at him.

  “All of this poverty surrounded by lush beauty.” He glanced quickly at her.

  She nodded her head. “It’s like this in so many places,” she said. “In parts of Mississippi, there are still plantation homes and sugarcane fields less than two streets away from the palatial government offices.”

  “The ninth ward in New Orleans,” Brice added.

  “Southside of Chicago. Huge parts of Detroit, New York.” She shook her head. “It’s a shame and a disgrace that we’re allegedly one of the richest countries in the world, and yet we have people who live with virtually nothing.”

  “The haves and have-nots. That’s why I need to get to our young boys while they are young. Get in there and show them the power of education and what it can bring you. It’s the only way out.”

  “I completely agree.”

  They launched into a deep discussion about the educational system, testing practices and curriculum. Brice was amazed that Naomi was so versed in the details of educational institutions and had many solid ideas of her own on how things could be changed.

  “I’m totally impressed,” he said when she’d finished conveying her thoughts on revamping the testing system.

  She blinked back her surprise. “Impressed?”

  “Yes. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were down there in the trenches of teaching.” He grinned.

  Her stomach jumped. She could kick herself. She was a bookseller that worked and lived in Florida. Not a tenured professor at an HBCU, or Historically Black College or University, in Atlanta. Her smile fluttered like birds’ wings. “I, um, just try to keep up with the news.” She swallowed and turned to face forward in her seat.

  He looked at her for a moment, thrown off by the shift in her seat and in her tone. “I wish more people were like you, and paid attention to what was happening,” he said, wondering if he’d hit an unseen button.

  But he didn’t have time to address it as they were entering St. John, the capital city of Antigua. It would take every bit of skill and dexterity to maneuver the tight, congested streets that overflowed with cars, people, vans and carts, on roads that were barely wide enough for a one-lane roadway, let alone two, with no real sidewalks to speak of.

 

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