Frost on My Window Page 6

The older woman shook his hand and then turned his large palm over in her small hands. She studied it closely. I watched as Traxx shifted uncomfortably and glanced at me in confusion. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

  Mrs. Renald patted Traxx’s cheek with her other hand and smiled benignly.

  “Oh, she gonna have her hands full with this one.” The older woman adjusted her grip on Jacques’s leash and opened the door leading out of the brownstone, leaving Traxx and me staring.

  “What was that all about?” he asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders and bit my lip to keep from laughing. He looked at me as if I was crazy anyway.

  “Couldn’t tell you.” I had an idea, or maybe it was hope. Who knows? We walked out the building and he led me to the passenger side of his SUV, opened the door and helped me inside.

  Traxx entered the Jeep as I looked out into the night through tinted windows.

  “So you and Rena are sisters?” he asked later while merging onto the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.

  In my heart, we were sisters. “We grew up together.” If Rena hadn’t disclosed our connection, I wasn’t about to.

  “She told me you work with the Internet. That’s cool.”

  I smiled. He thought my job was cool. I looked toward the roof to keep in a snort. Traxx’s album had gone platinum and he had his own small money management firm. “It gets hectic sometimes but it’s fun. What about you? Where’d you get the accent?”

  “You noticed, huh?” He glanced at me. “Some of my relatives live in Arkansas. I love to listen to them tell their stories during our family reunions. I grew up in San Antonio, Texas. My family still lives there.”

  “How are you liking the East Coast?” I reached out to grab the door handle as he hit the brakes. He swore and honked his horn, just like a New Yorker.

  “It’s okay except for these crazy cab drivers.”

  I laughed, and the sound spread through the automobile. I knew exactly how he felt. “Next time try the subway. It’ll save you the stress.”

  “Yeah, I’ll think about that,” he replied.

  “So do you know…” I broke off at the sound of a woman’s voice.

  “Please exit at the next ramp.”

  “…Nina?”

  “She and I went to Stanford together,” he replied.

  “Left turn onto Park Avenue.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “I’m proud of my girl. She worked hard for this.”

  “She’s got an amazing voice.”

  “Turn right at the next light.”

  We parked two blocks away from the club. Traxx put his arm around my back and we blended into the well-dressed club crowd headed towards Fifty-first Street. We turned the corner to see limousines slowly stopping to let out their glamorous passengers while photographers struggled to push past security and each other. Traxx somehow managed to walk us through security after nodding to the crew of muscular, black-clad guards.

  Before I knew it we were walking up the stairs behind a trio of Versace-clad women. There were handsome men all over the place dressed in Brooks Brothers suits with nice shiny Kenneth Cole shoes. Every woman in the club was dressed to kill and the low lighting made everyone look nice.

  We entered the room just as Nina stepped on stage. As soon as she got through the first verse, I knew I was going to have one of my ‘I want a man to call my own for the rest of my life’ moments. Her sultry voice enthralled everyone in the place.

  Traxx urged me forward past the journalists and other guests towards the VIP area. I sank down into the small booth. A waiter magically appeared with a glass of champagne. I sipped the bubbly and then let out a sneeze.

  “Bless you.”

  I turned towards Traxx and wanted to crawl under the table. I had been staring at the stage and forgotten he was there. I glanced around the room and felt better to see that 90 percent of the men in the place had forgotten to close their mouths.

  Nina was one blessed sista. Not only was she beautiful, but girlfriend could sing like nobody’s business. My eyes caught one man who seemed to be mesmerized by her performance. He hadn’t even bothered to take a drink and his date had long since started tossing back martinis one after another.

  Rena arrived about halfway through the performance. I glanced up in time to see her briefly greet Traxx, then slide in next to me. She’d changed into a chocolate-colored cocktail dress.

  “How’s my girl doing?” she whispered.

  “Need you ask? Nina’s going to have the critics eating out of the palm of her hand while everybody and their mother runs out to pick up a copy of her CD.”

  “Did you see her?” Rena asked a moment later.

  “Who?” I questioned.

  “At the bar on the left. Gold slinky dress, sitting next to the basketball player.” Rena pointed before getting up and heading back towards the crowd that had gathered near the stage.

  I turned and looked towards the bar. The sound of Nina’s singing receded. My eyes locked on the face of a woman I’d never forget. Sherrie. Instead of facing the stage, she looked back towards our booth. Her eyes darted from Traxx to me and then back to Traxx. Recognition. I watched as she smiled and lifted her glass in a mock salute before turning back to the well-dressed man at her side.

  “Want to dance?” came the deep voice at my side.

  I turned to look at Traxx. He had gone silent since Rena left the table. Too many memories were whispering in my mind, taking me back.

  “Sure.” I stood and took his outstretched hand while checking the urge to turn and look into the faces of the people I knew were staring.

  We joined the other couples on the dance floor. He put his arm politely around the small of my back and I placed my hand on his shoulder. You’re dancing with the choirboy. I kept that image in my mind.

  “Leah, can I ask you a question?”

  I drew back to look at Traxx. “Sure.”

  I was happy for the distraction. I wanted to close my eyes. No matter where I looked I saw stares, measuring eyes and whispers. Maybe an actress, up and coming singer, artist, or family friend. The truth would have everyone laughing. Just a woman without stars in her eyes.

  “How does someone get to know Rena better?”

  Very smooth. The last man who tried date my cousin asked me how he could “get” Rena, as if she were something you could order off a MacDonald’s menu.

  “What have you tried?” I questioned.

  Traxx looked over my shoulder. I saw his jaw tighten.

  I hurriedly explained, “I only ask because I can tell you what won’t work better than what will.”

  He didn’t say a word, just kept dancing. “I asked her out to dinner.” The reluctant admission seemed to loosen him up.

  “Okay.”

  “Three times,” he sighed.

  “Oh…”

  “Is she playing hard to get or something?”

  I shook my head. “Rena doesn’t play games.”

  “If you say so.” He sounded unconvinced.

  I leaned over to look towards the backstage door. Rena was standing next to the well-known DJ. Then I glanced up at Traxx and caught a glimpse of longing in his eyes as he stared at my cousin. The polite Texan had half his heart sitting right under the sleeve I was holding. Damn, what can I say? I’m a sucker for a pretty face and a deep voice.

  “Ask her to dance. But before she gives you an excuse mention the Children’s Benefit Party. She’s helping organize this year’s charity event.”

  “Thanks, Leah.”

  “Just don’t mess up.”

  “You’re one mad cool sista.”

  “And you are a real gentleman. So just drop me off by the nearest empty seat and get to it.”

  * * *

  “If you’re not careful you’ll lose him.”

  I turned and looked at the owner of the voice. Sherrie. Her flawless face stared dispassionately at Rena and Traxx as they danced.

  “No chance of tha
t,” I replied. Lose him? Like the man was a cell phone or an earring.

  Sherrie strained her eyes. “Isn’t that your cousin? I remember her from the wedding reception.”

  I turned back towards her, giving her my full attention. “Long time no see, Sherrie.” Not long enough, I wanted to add.

  “She might be your family, but I’d still put her in check if I were you.”

  My fingers tightened on the wine glass. The woman was giving me advice. I shook my head. Same old Sherrie. Never trust a woman. She was beautiful, educated, had a nice career and was still threatened by anything with breasts. Amazing.

  “I’m fine, Sherrie. How are you?”

  To underscore the statement, I gave Traxx a thumbs up sign before taking a sip. Hell. I was more than fine. To see Rena dancing and laughing with a man I knew could rock her world about made my night.

  Sherrie looked at me as if trying to figure out what planet I had just stepped off. She raised a manicured eyebrow. “My…my…my. How people change.”

  “And some stay the same. What’s up, Sherrie?”

  “I thought I’d give you the opportunity to gloat. I bet you did a little victory dance when you heard about the divorce.”

  “What?” I only heard that last part of her speech.

  “Lance divorced me. You can have him back.” She looked at me like a queen granting a favor to a gracious subject.

  I stared at her and blinked. Taking a deep breath I placed my hands flat on the cool table. I looked over at Sherrie’s impassive face. “First, I have nothing to be happy about. Lance was my best friend. Unlike you, I don’t delight in other people’s misery. Second, I don’t want Lance.” I wanted to add I never had, but that was a lie and we both knew it.

  She raised her glass in a mock salute. “Of course. Looks like you’ve stepped up your game. Bigger fish to filet?” I watched as she inclined her head in the direction of Rena and Traxx.

  I was about to slap her back to slavery when her partner came by. Sherrie changed in an instant. She looked up at the man, the picture of warmth and innocence. The fool ate it up.

  “Sorry I took so long, darling,” he said, almost tripping over his own words.

  “That’s okay, Robert. I was just catching up with an old acquaintance.”

  She smiled at me and left. No introductions. No goodbyes. I took a drink and savored the sensation of the tiny bubbles of champagne slipping down my throat. The woman was a real piece of work.

  * * *

  We made it back to the car around two a.m. I was really tired from dancing and getting my boogie on. I took a seat up front with Traxx while my cousin stretched out in the back seat.

  “Where did Nina disappear to, Rena? I wanted to tell her how awesome she was tonight.”

  “She had to run up to Jacobi Hospital.”

  “What’s wrong?” I turned all the way around to look into the backseat.

  Rena was smiling. “Her older sister went into labor. Nina’s going to add ‘aunt’ as well as ‘multi-platinum’ to her credits.”

  “Girl or boy?” Traxx asked.

  “Don’t know. Her sister didn’t want to know the sex of the baby. I know Nina’s brother-in-law wanted a girl. Nina was rooting for a boy.”

  Traxx drove confidently towards Brooklyn. I looked towards the dashboard and tracked the progress of the little car-shaped object as it moved along the series of lines. Impressive. I sat back and turned my attention to the conversation between Rena and Traxx.

  “Damien didn’t tell me how long you were going to be in New York, Traxx,” Rena said.

  “Yeah. We decided to leave that open.” Traxx began to chuckle. “Sorry, private joke. Damien wasn’t sure how this Texas boy would take to big city life.”

  I could hear the frown in Rena’s voice. “But you went to Stanford.”

  “Yeah. I guess that doesn’t count.” He smiled.

  “Doing damn good so far,” I commented as he smoothly exited off the expressway and pulled to a stop at the light.

  “Amen,” Rena echoed.

  “Thank you, ladies. Now if you’d like to continue singing my praises, I could use the backup on Monday.”

  “Monday?” Rena questioned.

  “I’m gonna be in the studio with Quentin Marks. Wants me to lay out a track on his new blues album. Some really old school, sweet rhythm and blues sound.”

  “Nice,” I commented.

  “Yeah. It’s just you don’t work with artists like him but once in a lifetime. My Dad would listen to his records all day while working in the garage.” His voice was filled with muted awe.

  Quentin Marks, the blues man dubbed America’s Beethoven of Jazz, could make a piano cry. Pop had all his records lined up on the shelves in the den. Sunday afternoons when Rena and I would help in the kitchen, the sound of a piano, the smooth deep rasp of the singer’s voice, and the wail of a saxophone would fill the house. Rena and I would mimic Mom’s slow swinging hips. Our houseshoe-clad feet would tap to the beat of the low-sounding bass. All the while the piano man would play.

  “Your dad is a mechanic?” Rena asked.

  “Naw,” Traxx replied. “He just likes to fix up old cars. Says it’s the only vice my Mom will let him have. Dad’s a doctor and my Mom’s a child psychologist.”

  Rena and Traxx continued the conversation as we entered the apartment. Taking a moment to turn up the air conditioner, I watched, amused, as Simba stared at Traxx before strolling over to the tall man and rubbing up against his legs.

  “So have I passed the test?” Traxx asked, looking down towards the cat.

  “Looks like it,” I heard Rena answer as I entered the kitchen.

  “So what happens to those who don’t pass?” he asked.

  I laughed after handing glasses of iced tea them. “Well, there was this one guy that Rena…”

  “Ahh, don’t want to hear it,” Rena interjected. I closed my mouth and took a seat as Traxx looked back and forth between Rena and me.

  “I’ll save that story for later. So Traxx, how did you get into the music business?” I asked curiously.

  “I was discovered three years back at a church choir competition in Dallas.”

  “How did that happen?” Rena questioned.

  “I was home for a minute and my mom’s choir director needed another alto, so I volunteered. Damon, the talent scout who was checking out the competition for a back-up singer for a new group his label had just signed, found me.”

  “Talk about luck,” I commented.

  Traxx nodded his head before leaning back on the sofa. “Yeah, it just kinda happened. Damon gave me his card and asked me to call him. I figured I had nothing to lose. Everything just fell into place after that.”

  “So what do you do when you’re not working, Traxx?” Rena asked.

  “Please, call me Trey.” He smiled at my cousin. “I help run a YMCA in our community. I like hanging out with the kids and shooting hoops.”

  My eyes drifted closed as he and Rena talked about giving back to the community and being involved. When I woke from my light doze, I was careful to keep my eyes closed.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. You actually liked Vanilla Ice?” Rena exclaimed.

  “Come on now,” Traxx challenged. “You’ve got to admit you thought his beats were pretty good.”

  “No way,” Rena denied.

  “So you’re telling me that you didn’t get your little groove on to a few of his songs?”

  “Okay, I’m busted, I’ll admit I liked it. But it was only that one track.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” Traxx promised.

  I heard Rena let out a yawn. “Sorry,” she said.

  “No. It’s late and I’d better leave. Thanks for a great evening, Rena.”

  “You’re welcome…Trey.”

  “Could you let Leah know I had a good time?”

  “Of course, that is, if that sleepyhead cousin of mine ever wakes up.”

  I strained to listen as
they moved towards the door.

  “So will I see you this week?” he asked.

  “I’ll be around the office,” Rena replied. “Drop by and say hello.”

  “Are you on the same floor as Damon? I’ve never seen you in the hallway.”

  “One floor up. I’m on twenty-eight,” she said.

  “Twenty-eight, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, so can I take you to lunch sometime?”

  “We’ll see,” Rena answered evasively.

  “All right, then. Good night, Rena.”

  “Night, Trey. Take care.”

  I opened my eyes as soon as the door closed. “Night, Trey,” I mimicked in a deep, sultry voice.

  “I knew your behind was faking,” Rena laughed.

  I stood up and stretched. “My work here is done.”

  “Don’t be getting any ideas, cuz.”

  “Of course not,” I lied and bent to pick up Simba. Winking at the cat, I beamed at a frowning Rena just before turning and heading to my room.

  * * *

  I woke to the sound of the phone ringing. Reaching over I picked up the receiver and opened my eyes to look at the clock. Eleven a.m. So much for getting up early. Rolling over, I put the phone to my ear and closed my eyes, expecting to hear my mother’s voice.

  “Hello?” I grumbled sleepily.

  “Leah…”

  My eyes shot open and I sat up. “Sean, how are you?”

  “I’m okay. Getting some rest before the next show.”

  “So where are you?” I had a flyer he had given me before leaving. It was probably nestled in a purse somewhere in my closet.

  “Miami.”

  “Ahh…” I smiled and closed my eyes.

  “Now what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

  I knew at that moment he was smiling. Lounging alone on some plush white leather coach in some ultra-trendy resort hotel, Sean was guaranteed to be watching Saturday morning cartoons.

  “Nothing. I don’t think that you could have picked a better place to rest. So have you checked out South Beach?”

  Sean fit right in with the beautiful people. Only he wouldn’t hang out amongst the rich, famous, and party addicted. The charming bad boy of alternative rock always went his own way. The jet set world had never interested him, but the dark hidden places in the human heart would always send him to some quiet place to write.