Passion's Song

“Oh, that’s right. You’re just one of New Orleans’s top ten bachelors. My bad.”

“Are you finished?” Damien asked. “Or do you want to rub this in just a little more? It’s okay, I can handle anything you dish out.”

“Aw,” April said. “Been a rough one, has it? Okay,” she said, “I promise no more bachelor jokes for the next hour.”

“An entire hour? You’re such a giver, April.”

She laughed again, the sound echoing around the empty room. She grabbed him by the cuff of his light blue button-down and tugged.

“Come on, let’s get some coffee. The new café is finally operational and I cannot wait for you to see it.”

“You were able to make it happen?” Damien asked.

“Along with the kids and other volunteers, of course. But, yes, we made it happen. Thanks in no small part to donations from generous citizens such as yourself,” she said. She stopped and turned. “Did I tell you that I found a college in northern Mississippi that was replacing all of their string instruments?” She pointed over her shoulder, toward the room they’d just left. “Those violins and the double bass you saw the kids playing? All purchased with the money you donated. I can’t thank you enough, Damien.”

Damien could only hope that her giving spirit would still be there when he brought up the reason for his visit.

“Here it is,” April said as they arrived at the newly installed coffee bar and café.

Damien looked around the room, a grin slowly lifting up the corner of his mouth. The building’s rearmost room had been converted into a small eatery. A long counter ran nearly the entire length of the back wall. Behind it sat an industrial espresso/cappuccino maker and a professional blender. Three stainless steel pump-style coffee dispensers labeled Decaf, Medium Roast and Dark Roast sat on the counter next to glass domes that housed various pastries.

There were five small round tables inside, each with a small vase holding a single bud in their center, and two chairs. Just outside, on the brick patio on the rear eastern side of the building, sat three additional seating areas. There also looked to be a small vegetable garden just beyond it.

“You know, when you called asking for a donation from Alexander Properties to help fund this project, I pictured something that was a step above a lemonade stand. But this is a legitimate coffee shop.” He glanced over at April. “I guess I should have known better. When it comes to April Knight, there’s never any half stepping.”

“You got that right,” April said with a sharp nod, followed by that infectious laugh of hers.

When she’d approached him at the end of last summer with the idea for the café, she told him that she wanted it to serve two purposes. First, she assured him that it would be operated strictly by the youth who attended A Fresh Start and used foremost as a teaching tool, giving the kids practical skills that they could use to hopefully gain employment outside the center. And, second, the money provided from the sales would be used to fund other programs.

Damien purchased two large black coffees, leaving a twenty-dollar tip in the tip jar, then followed April to the lone available table.

“It looks as if you all have a bustling business already,” Damien commented as he sat across from her. “Not an empty seat in the house.”

“It’s a symbiotic relationship. This community needed something like this,” April said. “And the kids love it. We—” She paused, looking beyond Damien. “Hey, Simeon, what’s up?”

Damien looked over his shoulder just as a young guy of about twenty-five or so came upon their table. He wore a plaid shirt and slim jeans with cuffs that rolled up above his ankles.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the guy said. “I just wanted to know what time I’m meeting you at your house.”

A dose of unease slithered through Damien’s bones.

Was April dating this guy? Why hadn’t he considered the possibility that she was in a relationship before coming up with his hastily hatched plan?

“Be there for seven,” April told the youngster.

“Awesome. See you then,” he answered, and then left them.

April took a sip of coffee and said, “Sorry about that. Now, what is it that’s so urgent that it brought you to the Ninth Ward? Don’t think that the significance of this visit escaped my attention. It’s been a long time since you came out this way.”

“Yeah, it has,” Damien said. “First, are you seeing someone?”

Her head jerked back as she released a shocked laugh. “What?”

“You know, romantically,” Damien said. “Are you involved with someone?”

He knew he’d caught her off guard. He and April had been friends since high school, but their love lives were rarely discussed. In fact, Damien couldn’t remember either of them ever overtly bringing up the subject.

“I...uh...” She stumbled. Then shook her head. “No,” she finally answered. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

Bone-melting relief replaced that earlier unease.

“Great,” Damien said. “Because I have a favor to ask of you. And it’s a big one.”

* * *

April didn’t know what to think as she watched Damien fidget across the table from her. If there was one thing she could usually say about him, it was that he excelled at always appearing to be completely in control.

Not today.

Right now, he seemed unsure. Nervous, even. It was unsettling.

Damien tapped his fingers on the table in an anxious rhythm. “The reason I asked you to meet with me—” he started.

“Hi. Can I get you anything?” Jelissa Cannon, one of the older girls who helped to manage the new café, interrupted.

The teen flashed a huge smile at Damien. Like most of the world’s female population, she seemed totally smitten within a second of setting eyes on him.

April held up her cup. “We already have our drinks, but thanks.”

“Oh.” Jelissa’s smile deflated. Then it brightened again. “Can I get you anything else? Refills, maybe?”

Did that child just bat her eyes?

“Actually, I think we’re good for now,” April answered, infusing a hint of warning into her voice.

“Are you sure?” Jelissa asked Damien.

“Yes,” Damien said, treating her to that megawatt smile that had no choice but to elicit the exact reaction Jelissa displayed. The teen giggled like the schoolgirl she was, her light brown cheeks darkening to a deep crimson.

“If we need refills, I’ll call you over,” April told her. She wiggled her fingers toward the counter. “You have customers to take care of. Why don’t you go and do that?”

April cast a cursory glance around the room and discovered that Jelissa wasn’t the only one with eyes trained on their table. Most of the females in the room were staring openly at them.

It wasn’t as if April could blame them. If there was one thing Damien Alexander had always been, it was easy on the eyes.

April had done her share of looking over the years.

Oh, who was she kidding? She’d nearly sprained her eyes staring at him.