But that wasn’t all that he wanted, which was why he knew better than to push things too quickly. As much as he suspected—based on the fact that after the kiss Deanna had asked him if he was just heading home—that another kiss or two and she would have been agreeable to spending the night with him, he had refrained.
Because the chemistry certainly wasn’t one-sided, and they were bound to explore their sexual connection sooner or later.
In the meantime, Eric wasn’t about to blow the opportunity he’d been waiting for by rushing the sex.
Because eleven years ago, when Deanna had started dating Marvin, Eric had felt that she had chosen the wrong brother.
Chapter 5
The next day, Deanna went to Kwame’s school shortly before three-thirty as planned. She went into the office, where she saw Eric talking to the secretary. Hearing Deanna enter, he looked in her direction.
And damn if his smile didn’t cause her heart to flutter.
His eyes held hers, and Deanna couldn’t help wondering if he was thinking about the same thing she was.
Their kiss.
She swallowed. Just seeing those full lips, she could feel them on hers again. Who was she kidding? She didn’t need to see his lips to remember the kiss.
She had relived it many times during the night.
Why hadn’t someone snatched him up? Simply because he had been too busy with work? Was that his issue? There was no doubt that he was a good catch.
“Hey,” he said, walking toward her.
Deanna wasn’t sure if he was going to hug her, but she darted her gaze in the direction of the secretary, a silent way of saying she wasn’t sure a hug would be appropriate here. Not now that Eric had changed the landscape of their relationship by telling her that he’d always been attracted to her.
And whether he simply caught her meaning, or didn’t plan to hug her regardless, he kept his hands at his side. He simply said, “It’s good to see you again.”
“I’m glad to be here. I’m excited to work with the kids.”
Eric nodded. “Let me take you to the auditorium. The rehearsals will just be starting, so this is a good time for me to take you in and introduce you to everybody.”
Deanna followed Eric the short distance from the office to the large double doors she remembered from her childhood.
And as she had thought upon seeing the exterior of her old school, the auditorium that had once seemed large and daunting didn’t seem nearly as big now. Oh, it was definitely a good size, but it certainly looked smaller from her perspective as an adult.
At the end of the seating area was a stage. Deanna could remember performing Christmas and Easter plays there.
A number of kids were seated in the front row, and Deanna could only see the backs of their heads. An Indian man in jeans and a short-sleeved dress shirt sat on the edge of the stage with his feet hanging over.
“If I didn’t call your name, you can still have a part in the chorus,” the man was saying, “but I’ve made my decisions about the lead roles, and my decisions are final.”
As Deanna and Eric walked down the sloping floor toward the stage, the man stopped speaking. Eric moved forward with purpose, and as he got close enough to the stage, he said, “Mr. Singh, this is Ms. Hart.”
Mr. Singh hopped off of the stage and walked toward Deanna with his hand outstretched. When he reached her, he shook hers firmly. “Call me Sanjay.”
“Hello, Sanjay. I’m Deanna.”
Sanjay Singh looked to be in his late forties or early fifties, and he had a stern look about him.
That sternness was proven when, a moment later, he whipped his head to the right and said, “I won’t tolerate any excessive chatter. No one speaks until I say otherwise.”
Inwardly, Deanna cringed. For a man working on a theater production, he seemed to be tightly wound.
Then Sanjay turned back to her. “So, you’re a professional recording artist. Sorry, I never heard of you.”
It was the kind of comment that Deanna suspected was intended to knock her down a notch. And Eric must have figured the same thing, because he clamped a hand down on Sanjay’s shoulder and said with humor, “Don’t mind him. Sanjay’s been living under a rock for the past decade.”
The kids snickered at the comment.
“I didn’t mean to come off as crass,” Sanjay quickly explained, duly put in his place. “It’s just that I don’t keep up on current music. I’m a classical fan.”
“Classical music is great,” Deanna said, trying to put him at ease. But she was a little on guard, getting the sense that Sanjay wasn’t exactly happy to see her.
“And that’s exactly why I figured that Ms. Hart’s expertise would be invaluable to you with regards to this production,” Eric said. “Especially since you’re filling in for Peter.”
Sanjay nodded. “Yes, of course.”
Eric moved to stand in front of all the students. “I’m excited about this production, and I hope you are, too. And because Mr. Guy can’t be here, I thought I’d ask an old friend of mine to help out with the musical end of the production. She’s had success in the music industry, with two albums
released. Some of you may have heard of her.” Eric paused, then grinned as he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Deanna Hart.”
Eric gestured to her, and Deanna stepped forward. The kids had already been throwing curious glances in her direction, some of them whispering amongst each other despite Sanjay’s stern warning. She knew that at least some of the kids had recognized her.
Now, as she stepped in front of them, most were smiling excitedly, while some appeared to be blushing. “Hello,” she said to them. “Nice to meet you all.”
There was a chorus of hellos in return, and some of the kids waved and giggled.
“I’ve never worked on a Broadway production,” Deanna began, “but I have done some theater—right here at this very school. And I know music. So I’m really looking forward to working with you all.”
One of the kids made a funnel around his mouth with his hands and hooted, indicating his happiness over this news.
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