Desire In A Kiss

“Later.”

Serenity gathered the remaining permission slips on her desk, neatened them and tapped the bottom of the pile against the desktop to line them up. She placed them in a manila folder and set it in a tray. Her phone buzzed. She looked at it, paused and returned to what she was doing. She picked up the pile of homework her students had handed in and began reading the summaries on the history of jazz. She glanced at the phone once more. This time, it didn’t buzz.

The first few lines of the first summary she had started hadn’t made sense, so she read it over again. The work wasn’t poorly written. She just couldn’t concentrate on her students’ papers because her mind was on the messages in the app.

“That’s it!” she declared. “This app is making me crazy.” What was the use if she didn’t plan on checking any of the messages anyway?

Serenity snatched the phone, tapped in her passcode, then held the app down so she could open and then delete it. Pausing again, she was compelled to review the profiles one last time. After that, she’d be done with it. Just then a new message arrived in her inbox. It was from Chris Mullins. The subject simply said Hello. It was the first line that caught her attention, so she clicked on it to bring up the full message. This Chris didn’t call her baby, write a bad poem or offer up a lame pick-up line. His message was simple.

Hi. It seems that you really like music. Do you play any instruments? I play the sax.

Serenity’s thumb hovered over the reply icon for several moments. The debate in her mind was whether or not she should respond, or back out and hit Delete. The pressure was palpable. Why was she making this a big deal? Her reservations mounted. What if he was a stalker? He could be misrepresenting himself. Maybe he was crazy. Why was she even using online dating?

This guy looked decent enough. He was pretty handsome in the one and only picture he posted—and he was fully clothed. There were no pecs, six-packs or weird, phony-looking model poses. His profile was new, like hers—simple.

“I can’t,” Serenity said to herself, sighing, and dropped her hands.

She opened the bottom desk drawer, unzipped her purse and tossed the phone in. It would stay there for the remainder of her workday.

Chapter 6 (#u89e3b525-76d0-54fb-b187-5b30021c0034)

Chris, Ray and Kent navigated the congested streets of New York’s busy Times Square area with confidence in their stride. Tourists strolled aimlessly with their eyes toward the sky, while agitated natives wound through the maze of people speaking a tapestry of dialects. Chris caught snatches of the few languages he understood and wondered about the ones he couldn’t detect.

Broadway—the street—was a show unto itself. Entrance into the theaters wasn’t necessary for theatrics. There was enough of that with the costumed characters walking around and encouraging people to take pictures with them, then wanting money. The area was littered with painted naked women, superheroes, Statues of Liberty on stilts and metallic-toned cowboys who held their breath for dollars.

“Here we are.” Kent stopped walking, looked up at the large silver numbers on the building and shielded his eyes from the glaring sun.

The three headed through stately glass doors into a well-lit lobby of slate-colored granite, with a long security desk featuring a chrome logo of the media conglomerate’s name. A woman sat at the desk, her lips easing into a delightful grin when they approached. Eager to assist, she caught their attention before her coworker could turn around.

Chris stepped up first, gave his name and then the name of the person they were scheduled to meet. The woman asked for their identification and directed them to the elevator that would take them to where they needed to go. Inside the office, a petite young woman greeted them, leading them down a hall lined with large mounted posters of magazine covers. She guided them into a cozy room with soothing sage walls, gray couches and shabby-chic decor. Her gaze lingered on Chris as he moved through the door. After inviting them to get comfortable, she left.

“This is going to be great for business,” Ray mentioned, taking in the view overlooking Times Square from several stories up.

“For sure!” Kent agreed. “When will this issue come out, again?”

“May, around the same time as the gala.” Chris sat and brushed imaginary lint off his pant leg.

Had he been completely honest with his buddies, Chris would have told them how nervous he was. He was no stranger to attention, nor had he ever required it, but this entire experience humbled him tremendously, setting his ego into remission. It felt great to be recognized for work that he loved. He was still processing the fact that the three of them were about to be interviewed for a cover story of one of the country’s largest lifestyle magazines. Their feature story would tell the world about their business venture and their quick rise to popularity, giving them exponential exposure. Chris would also be featured in a separate article as one of New York’s most eligible bachelors, which would also tell of him being honored for his contribution and service as the cochair of the board for the Chandler Foundation alongside his mother. Each of his siblings took turns serving with Elle except Jade, his younger sister, who currently served as the foundation’s executive director.

Ray and Chris sat while Kent paced the small tranquil space. The nervous energy he exuded contrasted with the serenity the room offered. Chris laughed, realizing Kent shared the same mental space.

“You’re not nervous?” Chris directed his question to Ray.

Ray rubbed his palms against his legs. “Yeah, man. This is some major exposure. Brynn came by this morning before work. She kept fussing over what outfit she wanted me to wear. I told her the magazine was supplying our clothes for the shoot anyway. She still insisted that I show up looking as dapper as usual. Heh!” Ray confidently popped his collar. “I’ll try not to make you two look bad.”

“Ha!” Their combined laughter filled the small space.

Moments later, the editor entered the room. With hair the color of fire, her kinks evenly extended about six inches from her head. Smooth, almond-colored skin looked like butter. Her big smile was inviting.

“Good morning, gentlemen. I’m Chandra, business editor. Welcome to Eclipse magazine. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” She firmly shook hands with each.

“A pleasure to meet you.” Ray nodded.

“Thank you for this opportunity.” Kent smiled. “Whoa!” he teased regarding her firm handshake. “You’ve got some arm there.”

“I think it’s safe to say the pleasure is ours.” Chris cupped Chandra’s soft hand between his. “And yes, thanks so much for this opportunity.”

Chandra’s neck shifted like a lever as she swallowed. She cleared her throat and smiled. Her smile held a hint of seduction and turned inviting. Chris could tell she thought he was flirting, but he wasn’t.

“You’re quite charming, Mr. Chandler.” Chandra’s head tilted slightly.

“Thank you.” Aware of his effect, he patted the back of her hand and let it go.

Chandra cleared her throat once again and tugged her knee-length dress down. “Our team is preparing for your shoot. We’ll get started in a moment. In the meantime, please let me know if you need anything. We have refreshments for you and a wonderful lunch coming later.”

“Now you’re talking.” Kent rubbed his hands together.

Chandra laughed, then stole a glance at Chris before promising to send in her assistant with a few bottles of water as she left.

“Seems like she’s sweet on you, Chris.” Ray chuckled and looked to Kent to cosign.

“Yeah, I’d say so. Maybe you won’t need that dating site after all.”

“Right! Very funny!” Chris dismissed Kent’s comment with a wave.

He hadn’t thought about his profile on the dating site since he asked that woman about her musical interests. Suddenly he was curious to see if she had responded but didn’t want to check it in front of his buddies. They were sure to joke about it.

Out of all the women whose profiles he had perused, there was something honest about the one belonging to the woman who spoke about having a passion for teaching music. The fact that he was attracted to her authenticity was ironic, since his profile consisted of a few lies—well, the last name and city he had listed were lies. But he did play the sax and trumpet, and he was an entrepreneur. He just hadn’t mentioned the businesses he owned or anything about his family’s legacy.

The assistant returned, snapping Chris out of his daze. They were ready to get them set up for their photo shoot. After that, he’d check to see if she’d responded to his message. Chris was surprised at his own desire to see if she had.

Chapter 7 (#u89e3b525-76d0-54fb-b187-5b30021c0034)

Serenity hit her doorstep with the weight of her entire day pulling her down. She’d listened to more than one hundred students play instruments with varying levels of skill. Some instruments shrieked and shrilled, forcing one of her eyes to close while the other widened from the harsh sounds. With an endearing smile, she had encouraged them to continue and told them how much they were improving. Most of the musicians in her upper grades played beautifully due to several years of practice.

After school, she had headed over to the community center to rehearse with the kids from her organization, Heartstrings. She founded the nonprofit with Rayne to help less-fortunate kids learn to play instruments while developing an appreciation for music and the arts. They managed to acquire donations for instruments and materials. Sometimes they were lucky enough to get visits from prominent musicians who liked what they were doing and wanted to show support.

They had a few months to prepare for their year-end concert. Serenity’s heart swelled as she listened to them play on this particular evening. They were especially good, proving that they practiced between sessions. She’d taught them about the ten-thousand-hour rule as a way to develop mastery and expertise. A few of her kids took that very seriously and began practicing diligently, charting the amount of time they spent playing their instruments.

Serenity stepped into her kitchen and flicked the lights on, disturbing the darkness there. She was still smiling as she transitioned her thoughts from her kids to what she wanted to eat for dinner. Opening the refrigerator, she stood scanning each shelf carefully. Finally, she pulled out feta cheese, romaine lettuce, tomatoes and a few other veggies to make her own version of a Greek salad. She washed the produce and left it in a strainer to dry while she showered and slipped into comfy lounge pants, fluffy socks and a T-shirt.

She made her salad, poured a cup of juice and folded herself in her favorite wing chair next to her bed. She loved that chair, which she’d inherited after her grandmother’s passing. If she sat still enough, she swore she could feel the warmth that had often radiated from her grandmother.

On a table adjacent to the chair, Serenity tapped a button on a small flat remote, turning on the Bluetooth, and used her phone to select a playlist that released the soothing melodies of instrumentals throughout the cozy space. With the remote, she also turned on the TV, muting the volume, filling the atmosphere with the energy of movement and lights, almost making it seem as if she weren’t home alone. That was how she liked it.

Moments later, her phone buzzed, silencing her music for a moment. Serenity picked up the phone and saw that she’d received another alert from the dating app. Once again, her thumb hovered over the app icon, contemplating its deletion. She hesitated long enough for her curiosity to get the upper hand. Thumbing through, she looked over the messages. The one from Chris Mullins stood out. He’d mentioned music.

Serenity opened the message and paused. She dropped her hands into her lap and sighed. Responding to this message would officially put her in the online dating game. What if he was crazy? She’d already gone over that in her mind multiple times. She decided to go ahead and answer. Adrenaline rushed to her fingers. They trembled slightly as she positioned her thumbs over the phone’s keyboard. Suddenly, she couldn’t formulate a sensible reply in her head. How could she be so nervous and this guy wasn’t even around? He was simply a figment of a person, on the other side of a digital wall. What could she lose? What could she win?