Playing With Fire (5 page)

 

A love song was playing on the radio, the lyrics chanted over and over as Justin or Chris or whoever was singing was trying to drive home the point that the woman he was singing to, or about, had his heart. Taryn rolled her eyes skyward, a gasp of exasperation blowing past her lips.

It had been a long day and she was exhausted and in less than six hours she had to be on an airplane headed to Paris. She was trying to run down the list of everything she had to do in her head, but she was distracted, her thoughts on something and someone else. She blew another sigh.

Roberta had worked her last nerve, the woman suddenly obsessed with hooking her up with Romeo Marshall. Every other sentence out of her friend's mouth had been about the man until Taryn had had enough. She thought back to the conversation.

“Is that why you left me stranded at the club with your boyfriend?” Taryn had asked.

Roberta sneered. “He's not my boyfriend. Never was. And I didn't leave you stranded! I really had to go home!” she'd exclaimed.

“But you were hoping I'd hook up with him?”

Roberta had shrugged. “Would that have been a bad thing?”

“I don't think it would be a good thing.”

“Why not? Romeo's a great guy. I consider you both friends and I think you'd be a great couple. I want to see my friends happy.”

“Well, your boyfriend didn't even bother to look in my direction,” Taryn said matter-of-factly. “He was too busy looking in every other woman's direction.”

Shaking her head, Taryn could only listen as Roberta extolled Romeo's merits one more time. Once the conversation was over, Taryn couldn't get the man out of her head, and it was really starting to irritate her because she had more important things to be thinking about. And on the radio some crooner was singing about how much he loved his woman.

Taryn turned off Duraleigh Road and pulled her Mercedes into the parking lot of the Harris Teeter shopping center. Shutting down the engine, she heaved one last sigh, determined to get her head back on track. She took a quick glance down to her watch. It was late but she hoped they hadn't yet taken down the salad bar. There wasn't an ounce of food in her refrigerator at home and she wanted something to eat that didn't have to do with her ordering at the drive-through window at McDonald's.

Once inside, Taryn wasn't surprised to discover she was hours too late. The late night produce clerk, a long, lean drink of chocolate with dreads down to his shoulders, apologized profusely, but he eagerly made suggestions, sharing a host of his quick and easy favorite recipes. His enthusiasm made her smile as he flirted shamelessly.

“I could come cook for you when I get off,” the young man said, his eyes narrowed as he studied her intently. “I'm a great cook.”

Taryn laughed, the gesture easing the stress she'd been feeling. “I appreciate the offer, but I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why not, ma?”

She shook her head. “How old are you?”

“Age ain't nothin' but a number, beautiful. In fact, I'm writing a book about relationships between older women and younger men. How it's all about the physical and emotional connection and nothing at all to do with the age difference between them.”

Taryn laughed out loud. “Sounds intriguing, but the answer is still no. Besides,” she said, with a flip of her hand, “I'm not
that
much older than you are.”

The young man laughed as well, tossing her a quick wink. “Well, if you change your mind you know where to find me,” he said as he proceeded to unpack a box of fresh spinach, loading it onto the cold shelf.

Nodding her appreciation, Taryn headed in the opposite direction and the frozen food section. Clearly, dinner was going to be gourmet microwave in a box. As she stood in front of the freezer door debating between the meat loaf and the chicken tetrazzini, she didn't see the man who'd turned into the aisle from the other direction. But Romeo Marshall saw her.

Romeo had left the club earlier than normal. It had been a slow night, affording him the opportunity to head home for some much needed sleep. Also in need of a loaf of bread and a bag of potato chips, he had headed to the late night supermarket.

He stood eyeing her rear view. She was dressed in a form-fitting gold-toned silk suit. The designer jacket was fitted, cinching slightly at the waist, and the pants tapered to a flattering length at her ankles. She stood on five-inch, red-bottomed heels. Her hair was pulled up into a loose chignon atop her head, and for the first time he noted the small tattoo that decorated the back of her neck. She suddenly pulled open the freezer door and bent forward, leaning inside as she reached for something on the bottom shelf. Her lush backside reminded him of two nicely sized melons filling her slacks. A smile pulled wide and full across his face.

As she stood back up, reading the back of a food container, he moved to her side, clearing his throat to announce his presence. Taryn jumped, suddenly startled as she turned toward him. As she met his gaze he licked his lips ever so slightly, the gesture salacious and teasing without any effort on his part. She gasped, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Well, hello,” Romeo said, his deep tone a loud whisper.

“Hi,” Taryn answered, her gaze dancing swiftly over the space he filled.

He extended his hand toward her. “Romeo Marshall. I don't know if you remember me or not, but we met the other night when you were at the club with my friend Roberta.”

She nodded. “Actually, we didn't meet. Not officially. But I know who you are.”

Romeo nodded slightly as he acknowledged her comment. He took a deep breath, holding it for a brief moment. “You're right, we weren't properly introduced, which is why I wanted to say hello and introduce myself,” he said, still waiting for her to shake his hand.

Taryn finally eased her fingers against his, watching as they disappeared beneath his firm touch. A wave of heat suddenly coursed up her spine and she felt the air catch in her chest. “Taryn. Taryn Williams,” she muttered, fighting to catch her breath.

Romeo smiled, light shimmering in his dark eyes. “It's nice to meet you, Taryn Williams. Officially, this time.”

There was an awkward pause as the two stood staring at each other. It was unusually quiet, the store practically empty in the late night hour. The hum of the cooler units behind them was a low, dull drone that seemed to amplify the uncomfortable silence wafting between them.

Taryn took another deep breath, finally speaking first. “Well, I need to be going. It was nice meeting you too, Mr. Marshall.”

Romeo smiled. “I hope we run into each other again. Or maybe you'll stop by the Playground sometime soon?”

She nodded. “Maybe,” she said, her soft voice an easy lull in the space. “I'm sure I will.”

Romeo nodded. “Good. I look forward to seeing you again. Well, have a good night,” he said as he eased past her and moved down the aisle. He tossed her one last look over his shoulder, his smile still brightening his face.

As he disappeared from sight Taryn released the breath she'd been holding. She leaned back against the freezer doors, her knees suddenly quivering with excitement. She felt like a teenager facing her high school crush for the first time. The sensation surprised and unnerved her. She took a deep breath and then a second to stall the emotion sweeping over her. When her nerves were calmed she headed toward the register.

 

 

Romeo stood in the parking lot, pacing back and forth behind his car. The space was dark save the faint light emanating out of the store and the three light poles spaced sparsely apart in the lot. He glanced down to the Rolex on his wrist. It was after eleven and he should have just headed home, but something about the encounter with Taryn was holding him hostage. He leaned back against the trunk of his car, folding his hands in front of himself.

The woman was stunning, and truth be told he was slightly intimidated. He was used to women fawning over him, their not-so-subtle messages allowing him full control of his romantic situations. Taryn hadn't fawned. In fact, she'd seemed almost indifferent, and that had thrown him off his game. He felt like he'd fumbled their first meeting despite trying to appear calm, cool, and collected.

Just as he was replaying the encounter over again in his head, Taryn exited the building. Romeo drew his body upright. He adjusted his suit jacket, buttoning it around his torso as he stepped toward her. As he approached, the beautiful woman came to a sudden stop, surprised to still find him there. She tossed a look over her shoulder and around the parking lot, seeming to collect her bearings, in case she needed to make a quick exit. The gesture made him chuckle ever so softly. He called her name, the hint of a question punctuating each syllable.

“Mr. Marshall, hello again,” she said, curiosity sweeping between them. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No, nothing's wrong. I was just wondering if you might be interested in getting a drink with me. Unless you have a husband or boyfriend you need to get home to?” He shifted his weight from side to side.

Taryn eyed him curiously, then swept her gaze across the parking lot behind him as she pondered his question. She shifted her eyes back to his. “I appreciate the invitation but unfortunately I can't. I'm sorry.”

He nodded. “Maybe we can get together for coffee tomorrow? Or I'd love to buy you lunch. Or dinner.”

She shook her head. “No. I don't think so. . . .” she started.

Romeo's head continued to bob up and down. “Hey, don't worry about it,” he said abruptly, cutting her off. “I just thought I'd ask. You don't know me and I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” He paused, taking a deep breath before finishing. “Have a good night, Ms. Williams.” He turned, spinning around in his black leather shoes.

He'd made it back to his car when Taryn called his name, moving behind him.

“Yes?”

“I leave for Paris on business in a few hours and I'm not even packed yet. Otherwise, I would have loved to go get a drink with you. And I won't be returning until Saturday, so there's no way I can plan to see you tomorrow. But if you're still interested I'd love to get a cup of coffee with you when I get back,” she said.

Romeo felt himself grinning broadly. “Oh. Okay. Great. It's a date.”

Taryn smiled, the wealth of it shimmering in her eyes. “No, it's just coffee,” she said, a low chuckle easing past her lips.

Romeo's smile widened. “Just call me at the club when you get back, if that works for you. We can firm up our plans then.”

She nodded. “That works. And please, call me Taryn. Ms. Williams was my mother.”

“As long as you call me Romeo.”

Spinning on her high heels, Taryn eased her way to her own vehicle. She tossed her grocery bag into the passenger seat and eased inside. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Romeo was still staring after her.

As Malcolm wiped down the bar, one couple sat huddled in the corner, their long limbs entwined together. Piano Man and Sharon had just finished the last set together and now sat at the end of the bar entertained by Odetta and the tale of one of her last escapades. The crowd had dwindled down to just a few. As tired bodies made their way out of the club, the rest of the band packed up their instruments to go search for an after-hours joint to play until sunrise.

Turning up the lights, Romeo knocked gently on the small wooden table, disrupting the young couple from their embrace. “Time to take it home, people. Bar's closed.”

The young woman looked up, only slightly embarrassed, then smiled when she recognized Romeo “Can't fault a girl for having a good time now, can you, Mr. Romeo?” she slurred sloppily, clearly intoxicated.

“Not at all, Miss Carmen. But it's time you go have your good time at home.”

The young man rose to his feet, grinning. Two gold-capped teeth gleamed under the bright lights, casting an eerie glow across his lips. Extending his hand, he clasped Romeo's in a weak handshake. “Sorry about that, partner. But you know how it be sometimes.” He chuckled, holding his suit jacket over his shoulder and the girl under his arm.

“Let's go, Lloyd,” the girl whined. “I wanna go home. I'se got something I wanna show you!”

“Who's driving?” Romeo asked.

“I am. Don't you worry,” the man named Lloyd responded, tugging at the twisting of braids that graced the girl's head. “I'll make sure my baby gets home safe and sound.”

Romeo nodded, escorting them both to the door. Giving the restrooms one last check, Romeo locked the door behind them, then twisted the kink out of his neck, turning his head back and forth. A slight yawn passed over his lips as he stretched his arms up toward the ceiling. “I'm getting too damn old for this,” he muttered.

“Never too old for a good time,” Odetta responded. “You either gets better at doing it or you just gets better at pretending to do it.”

“From what I hear,” Piano Man said, “Romeo ain't got no problems doing it. It's working so hard that's kicking his butt.”

Romeo laughed. “And who have you been listening to, old man?”

“Young gals today don't do nothing but talk. All you got to do is sit where I sit every night and watch them pretty little things whispering after you every time you moves.”

“Yes, sir,” Odetta agreed. “Women do love them some Romeo,” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

Shaking his head, Romeo ignored them, visibly embarrassed. Malcolm had closed out the cash register and was passing the money bag to Romeo. Romeo pushed the contents back into the man's hands. “Yo, brother, do me a favor and you drop it off in the night depository on your way home, please?”

“No problem, Romeo,” he responded, placing the bag and his jacket on top of the bar. Pouring himself a glass of tonic, he leaned across the polished wood.

“This was some night tonight. You were on the money, Sharon,” Malcolm said.

“Thank you,” she responded, a rush of color rising in her cheeks. “And thank you, Mr. Marshall, for covering some of my tables for me. I didn't mean to sing so long.”

“Sharon, it was my pleasure,” Romeo said. “In fact, I think you and I need to sit down and talk about you singing full-time. You're wasting your gift and I guess I can't allow that to happen.”

Sharon looked from Romeo to Piano Man and back. Each was smiling at her brightly, delighted by her reaction.

“I just couldn't,” she sputtered, tears forming in her eyes.

“Well, it pays more money, but if you're not interested I'll understand,” Romeo said, laughing.

“No, no,” Sharon gasped. “I do, but . . .” she stammered, looking toward Odetta.

“Romeo, I don't know what we're going to do with this child. She's enough to drive you crazy.” Odetta giggled, hugging Sharon warmly. “Honey, you better go on and say yes. Romeo won't ask twice, and between you and me, you're a hell of a lot better at singing than you are at waiting tables. Besides, when you sing, I get bigger tips. You get these folks happy and they start pulling money out of their pockets like crazy!”

Hugging both of them, Sharon shook her head yes, her expression glowing as a faint trickle of a tear dripped onto her cheek.

“Good. I'll need you to come over tomorrow, say around one o'clock, and we'll hammer out the details. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Sharon responded.

“And, Odetta, I guess you better come too so that we can talk about hiring another waitress, maybe even two.”

“One's enough. You start cutting into my extra spending money when you start hiring too many waitresses around here.”

Romeo nodded. “In fact, Piano Man, I'd appreciate it if you came by also. I know it's Sunday, but I'd like to get some promotional photos done if we can. That would probably be a good time to get all of our staff business done and out of the way.”

Piano Man shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You people have worn me out,” Malcolm said, pulling on his coat. “Sharon, do you need a ride home?”

“Thanks, Malcolm. I'd really appreciate it,” she answered.

“What about you, Odetta?” he asked.

“Thanks, sweetie. Do you mind dropping me off at Keith's place? He said he was going to wait up for me.” Rolling her large hips and winking an eye, Odetta purred, “I promised him a late night snack.”

“You keep feeding that man all your sweet stuff, Odetta, and he gon' drop dead from suga',” Piano Man said with a laugh.

“Just never you mind,” she said. She kissed Piano Man lightly on the cheek. “This woman knows how to take good care of her man. Would take care of you too if you weren't so old.”

Piano Man laughed some more, squeezing Odetta close. “Don't let my being old fool you, woman. I still knows how to do the doing when it needs to be done now.”

Shaking her head, she swatted her hand at him. “Ohhhh. You too fresh!”

The two women followed Malcolm out the door. “Good night, everybody,” Sharon called out over her shoulder.

“See you tomorrow,” Malcolm and Odetta echoed.

“Good night,” Romeo and Piano Man called after them.

Romeo bolted the heavy wooden door, then pushed in the last empty chair.

“So, old man. How's that advance holding out?” he asked. It had been a few weeks since he'd first placed some money in the man's hands.

Piano Man grunted, pulling his hands through the wool of his hair. “I ain't decided whether or not I'm staying yet.”

“You got somewhere else to go?”

“Maybe. Ain't decided. Been a long time since I was in N'Orleans. Might go to N'Orleans. It ain't too hot yet.”

Romeo laughed softly. “It's been a long time since I was in New Orleans myself.”

Piano Man came to his feet. “I'll let you know when you owes me mo' money.”

Romeo smiled, nodding his head. “Do you need a ride home?”

“Ain't goin' home. The boys going over to Amber House to play. I told 'em I'd catch up to 'em when I was finished here.” He paused, inhaling deeply. His gaze flickered over Romeo's face, then settled on a spot behind the younger man's shoulders. Piano Man fidgeted with nervous energy, his mouth opening and closing as he debated whether or not to speak. Romeo eyed him curiously as the man finally continued. “You wanna come with me? The liquor is cheap and the music gon' be good. Or does you got a woman expecting you home?”

Romeo looked down at the watch on his wrist. For some reason he found himself thinking of Taryn Williams again. He had half expected to hear from her, but the Saturday had come and gone with nothing from her at all. “No,” he finally said. “There's no one home waiting for me.”

Piano Man headed for the door. “Come on then. They should be warming up right 'bouts now.”

Romeo stared after the old man just briefly before nodding his assent. He took one last look back over his shoulder to make sure all the lights were off. Following Piano Man out the rear entrance, he closed and locked the door behind them.

 

 

It had been some time since Romeo had last set foot in Amber House. The small after-hours club boasted a regular clientele of party lovers who needed to explore the dangerous side of midnight and find themselves perched on a bar stool when the sun rose. Booze flowed freely, there was always a band storming, the patrons were soaked with sweat, and the dance floor was jammed tight with one body too many.

Draping his coat across the back of an old wooden chair, he blew a kiss in the direction of Aleta Bowen, the club's owner. A long time friend of his mother's, Aleta had welcomed his return home with open arms. She'd been as supportive of his endeavors as his mother would have been, and had welcomed the opportunity to teach him what she knew about the business. Aleta had always regarded him as her own and would often mother him when he needed it the most. Romeo had the highest respect for her.

The petite woman, who looked barely half her age, smiled at him warmly, making her way over to his side. “Hey, baby boy! Where have you been? Long time since I last saw you,” she exclaimed, grasping his hands firmly between her own as she placed a wet kiss against his cheek.

“I had to come check out the competition, Aunt Aleta,” he said, smiling back at her.

She laughed, her umber-toned complexion rippling under a fine layer of makeup that attempted to hide the few lines of age that graced her face. “Didn't know my place was in your league. From what I hear, the Playground has gone big time.”

Romeo laughed with her. “Don't believe everything you hear!”

“What can I bring you, darling?”

Romeo sat down in the chair behind him. “Scotch. Please.”

Aleta nodded, racing to get him an unopened bottle of Chivas Regal and an empty glass. Returning, she set it on the table before him. “It's on the house tonight. I owe you.”

Romeo raised his eyebrows, rising to pull out a chair for the older woman to sit down on.

“What could you possibly owe me for, Aunt Aleta?”

She nodded toward the front of the club where Piano Man and his associates had gathered with their instruments. “Piano Man's back in circulation. Word on the street is that you brought him back,” she said as she took her seat.

Romeo shrugged. “I can't take credit for that.”

Aleta filled his glass. “Well, my business always picks up when he plays and he's not played for a real long time. It's nice to have him back no matter who had a hand in it.”

“Do you know him well?”

Aleta grinned. “I know him real well. I thought about marrying him once.”

Romeo looked up, mildly stunned, as Aleta smiled warmly in Piano Man's direction.

“Don't look so shocked. I used to be a real looker, and Piano Man was a good catch for a woman back in the day.”

“I don't doubt that. And you're still a good-looking woman.”

Aleta laughed, brushing her palm against the back of his hand. “Your mama sure raised you right, boy.”

“So what happened? Why didn't you marry him?”

A wistful look crossed her face as she responded. “His heart was somewhere else and we both knew it.” She smiled, changing the subject. “So, what's going on with you? Are you still chasing after some no good woman?”

Romeo paused for a moment. Women had never been a problem for him. They fell into his path the way the leaves fell from the trees during the autumn, and Romeo, true to his name, had played like most boys who find a pile of leaves at their feet. But things were changing. Romeo no longer had any interest in the one-night relationships that once fueled his spirit. But if pressed, he didn't know if he could tell anyone what it was he did want.

Romeo suddenly thought again about the woman whose phone call he had spent half the day hoping for. He hadn't bothered to ask for her number, just in case, and he was still kicking himself. He'd thought about calling Roberta for the information but had changed his mind, not wanting his old friend in his business like that. But the prospect of knowing more about Taryn Williams intrigued him. As he pondered the possibilities, the longings of loneliness pulled at the muscles in his chest. He inhaled deeply, then smiled as a little white lie fell past his full lips. “No, ma'am. I'm not chasing after any woman. I don't have the time or the energy.”

Aleta gave him a long look, studying him intently. There was no missing the expression that crossed his face. “It's your lie, baby, tell it anyway you want,” she said with a soft chuckle.

Romeo shook his head from side to side, his grin wide and full. “Honest, Aunt Aleta. I've changed my wanton ways!”

Aleta nodded. “Then whoever she is, she must be very special.”

Romeo's gaze locked with hers and held. He blew a heavy breath as he shrugged. He didn't bother to respond.

Aleta rose from her seat, one of her staff calling for her attention. “Well, you enjoy yourself and I'll catch up with you before you leave.”

Romeo rose to his feet, leaning to kiss her cheek one last time. “Yes, ma'am. I know I'll have a good time. This is my second home, remember?”

They both chuckled. “Well, come see me more often then,” Aleta said as she sauntered away, adding, “I've missed you.”

Romeo finally gave in to the music and the drink. It had been a long day and he was exhausted, his body worn. He watched as Piano Man pushed his own overtired bones past the point of no return. The man's fingers had been parading up and down the ivory steps for hours, and Romeo marveled at his ability to still be able to play as brilliantly as he did.