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The boy shook his head. “Not me. I hate school, I suck at sports and I don’t get along with my step-dad.”
“Ever tried boxing, martial arts or wrestling?”
“Naw, that’s not my thing.”
“How do you know unless you try? You look strong, you could probably be one hell of a wrestler. “
He shrugged a shoulder. “I ain’t got money for shit like that.”
“Chaz, you can come by the Boxing Institute of Champions and work out with me whenever you want.” Standing, Rashawn said, “Anyone else want to get in shape, look good and impress the honeys?”
Chuckles broke out.
“If you’re interested in a serious workout, meet me at the gym tomorrow at three. If you’re late, I’m starting without you.”
One by one, participants stood and approached Rashawn. Some of the younger kids even hugged him. Conversation was put on hold while tables were returned to their rightful place and chairs were stacked against the wall.
As the teens trickled out into the hall, Yasmin gathered her things. She wanted to talk to Rashawn privately but he was speaking to Tate and Brandon. Remembering that she had wanted to leave a note for the health nurse regarding the new date for the next health and nutrition clinic, she exited the room.
“You’re not leaving without me, are you, Doc?”
Yasmin slowed her pace and did a half turn.
“What’d you think of the session?” he asked, as they continued down the hall.
“I think you really connected with the kids.”
“I don’t know about all that, but I hope they give some thought to what I said. Far too many kids are getting killed and it’s up to us to put a stop to it.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Deciding she would call the health nurse in the morning, she tucked a hand into her pocket and pulled out her keys. Rashawn pushed open the door, and her shoulder brushed his chest as she passed by. Yasmin felt like she’d been zapped with a stun gun. Her pulse quickened. She glanced at Rashawn and was surprised to find him watching her. He must have felt it, too, she decided, tearing her gaze away.
Outside, the sky was clear. It was quiet on Keeler Street, but Yasmin knew from experience that could change at any minute. A week earlier, a father of three had been mugged on his way to his night job. Luckily, some of the center’s volunteers had heard the commotion and come to his aid. Thanks to their bravery, he hadn’t been seriously injured.
“Bye, Dr. Ohaji.”
Yasmin turned at the sound of her name. A group of boys were standing on the curb, talking. Broken bottles, cigarette butts and food wrappers littered the sidewalk. Tomorrow she would have to ask the caretaker to clean up the mess. Waving, she smiled at the teens. “Bye, boys. Get home safe.”
“Catch you later, Bishop.”
“Bye, champ,” another hollered.
“See you next Thursday!”
Yasmin glanced at Rashawn. “You’re coming back?”
“Sure, why not?”
“I don’t know, I just thought this was a one-time thing. Mr. Santos should be back by the end of the week.”
“That’s cool. Then he can lead the discussion and I can listen in. I promised the kids I’d be back and I always keep my word.” Rashawn motioned toward the silver Volvo S80 parked beside his Mustang. “Is that you?”
“Yeah.”
“Figured as much.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Rashawn chuckled. “It’s safe, practical and probably gets great gas mileage.”
“You’re right, it does.” Yasmin didn’t like him teasing her, especially when his car was decades old. She guessed the coral-blue two-seater was a late seventies model, and though it was in pristine condition with chrome wheels, leather seats and flashy front and rear spoilers, it was still old. “Do you have a minute? There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Go ahead, ask away,” he told her, leaning against the bumper of his car.
“How would you feel about emceeing the charity fund-raiser? I know this is short notice, but all my calls to other celebrities have been ignored. Your involvement could mean hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars raised for the center and—”
“Oh, I get it, I’m sloppy seconds. You couldn’t get Steve Harvey or Cedric the Entertainer so you decided to ask me.”
Yasmin was caught so off-guard by his remark, she didn’t notice the twinkle in his eyes. “No, no, it’s nothing like that,” she insisted, raising her voice. “If I had known how popular you are around Tampa, I would have contacted you first.”
“Sure, sure, Doc.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Why don’t we discuss this tomorrow when we have more time? There’s a boat leaving the pier at seven-thirty.” Rashawn leaned forward, his breath against her ear. “Let me take you out. You already know I’ll take good care of you.”
Yasmin resisted the urge to smile. The reference to how they’d met wasn’t lost on her. He was her knight in shining armor and she would always be grateful for what he had done that night at the Laurdel Lounge. Courage was damn sexy, and he personified the word in more ways then one. “Now’s not a good time,” she told him. “I have a lot of work to do for the fund-raiser and very little time. The program needs to be planned and I have silent auction prizes to organize.”
“We’ll brainstorm together. I’ve done this sort of thing before and it’s really not as hard as you’re making it sound.” Rashawn hoped Yasmin couldn’t see his nose growing. Aside from helping plan his mom’s surprise birthday party last year, he had never planned a major event like a charity fund-raiser. How hard could it be? As long as there was food, wine and music, it would be great.
“Why don’t we meet at the clinic?” she suggested, her tone light. He was flirtatious and straightforward, but in an unexpectedly disarming way. Going on a cruise was much too romantic and there would be other couples. The last thing Yasmin wanted was to be seduced by him in the presence of other people. Pleased that she had come up with a suitable alternative, she said, “I’ll order in some sandwiches from the deli up the block.”
“No offense, Doc, but your office is kinda stuffy. I want to go somewhere we can kick back and relax.”
“I’d be a lot more comfortable at my office.”
“Do you have a little old lady living inside you?” he joked, a grin on his lips. “If it’ll make you feel better we’ll call it a business dinner, okay?”
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I do,” he countered, his eyes beating down at her with the intensity of the sun. “I read somewhere that Puerto Rico ranks as one of the happiest places on earth. Most people live below the poverty line, the crime rate is ridiculously high and the average family survives on just pennies a day, but you know why they’re so happy?”
Intrigued, Yasmin asked, “No, why?”
“The motto in Puerto Rico is simple, ‘Don’t take life too seriously. Eat, drink and be merry!’” Signaling the end of the discussion he strolled confidently over to the driver’s-side door. “I’ll pick you up at six.”
“No!” Yasmin coughed to clear the panic in her voice. There was no reason to overreact. This was a business date. Sure, they were going to be surrounded by candlelight, champagne and soft music, but that didn’t mean she had to get caught up in the magic of it all. “I’ll just meet you there.”
Grinning, he slid into his car, revved the engine and backed out of the space. “See you tomorrow, Doc.”
Chapter 5
Yasmin spotted Rashawn as soon as she pulled into the Bahia Mar Dock. It was hard to miss him. He was surrounded by a bevy of attractive women. All weaves galore and heavy makeup, the buxom quartet resembled high-class call girls. Not wanting to give him the wrong idea about tonight, Yasmin had selected a loose, flowing blouse, slim-fitted pants and sandals. But as she watched stylishly-dressed couples exit their vehicles and head toward the boat, she had second thoughts about her conservative attire.
Once the car was locked, she walked briskly through the parking lot and joined the throng of sightseers. A slight breeze rose and with it the scent of spring flowers. Dark, somber clouds drifted peacefully across the sky. The air was thick with rain and mingled with the perfume of the sea.
Yasmin saw Rashawn glance around the harbor. His admirers were trying fruitlessly to hold his attention, but his mind was obviously somewhere else. He probably thought she’d stood him up. He wouldn’t be far from wrong. The idea had crossed her mind more than once, but blowing him off wouldn’t be right, especially since she needed his help. He hadn’t agreed to host the fund-raiser yet, but she was confident he would.
Rashawn’s face broke out into a grin when he spotted her. Mumbling good-bye to the cosmetology students, he strolled down the pier toward his date. A flabby Hispanic man acknowledged him, but Rashawn didn’t stop. Tonight wasn’t about meeting fans or signing autographs; it was about spending time with Yasmin.
“You’re late,” he said, when they were a few feet apart.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
His eyes gleamed. “I was about to come looking for you. Thought maybe you weren’t going to show.”
Yasmin looked at the beddable and willing women standing behind him. “I’m sure you would have been in good hands.”
“Hardly.” He leaned in and whispered, “They’re not my type. I like sophisticated women who know how to leave things to the imagination.”
“…Said the man with the harem,” she teased, raising her eyebrows.
Rashawn took her hand, pressed it to his chest and said, “Did you feel that?”
“Feel what?”
“My heart skipped a beat.”
Yasmin melted like an ice cube in the sun. Rashawn definitely had a way with words. On the drive over, she had told herself nothing was going to happen between them, but deep down she knew something would. Rashawn wasn’t her type, but she was drawn to him.
It was his sensual bedroom tone, his sexy swagger and his killer smile. Or maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t be more different from the men she usually dated. Eric had been a plastic surgeon, owned a lavish six-bedroom home and had a fleet of luxury cars. Rashawn was from the inner city, made his money beating his opponents to a pulp and drove a Mustang. But God help her if she didn’t want him. When he was around, she had that walk-on-water feeling and was short of breath. Like now.
“You’re lookin’ good, Doc. Real good.”
“Thanks. I hope it’s not cold tonight because I forgot my jacket in the car.”
His eyes sparkled with lust. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you warm,” he promised, admiring her classy outfit. Rashawn liked how Yasmin had a different look every time he saw her. She kept him guessing and it didn’t matter if she was wearing a dress, a business suit or gym shorts, she always looked sexy.
“You know what we should do?”
“No, what?”
“Kiss now, so we’re not thinking about it all night.” Resting a hand on her lower back, he gently pulled her toward him. A whiff of her perfume tickled his nose and elicited images of them making love on a bed of roses. “One kiss, that’s all I want, but if you’d like to go further, I won’t stop you.”
Desire zipped up her spine. A wave of excitement swept over her as she leveled a hand over her stomach. His confidence bordered on arrogance but made him even more appealing. “I, um…”
“All aboard!”
The gray-haired captain stood at the portal of the boat, his hands propped on his hips like Long John Silver. Behind him was a smiling crew of both male and female stewards.
Rashawn broke the silence with a soft chuckle. “Looks like that kiss is gonna have to wait until later. Ready to go inside, Doc?”
“Can I interest you in a Bahama Breeze?”
Rashawn glanced up at the waiter. “Sure, what’s in it?”
“Coconut rum, pineapple juice and a splash of tequila. It’s our most popular drink,” he finished, setting the cocktails down on the table.
Yasmin tasted it. “This is delicious.”
“Yeah, keep them coming!”
The server pulled out his pen and notepad. “Do you need a few more minutes to look over the menu or have you decided on the ribs-and-chicken buffet?”
Rashawn and Yasmin spoke at once, drawing a light chuckle from the twenty-something waiter. “I’ll give you guys a couple of minutes to decide.”
When he departed, Rashawn put his menu off to the side. “You’ve gotta have the buffet. Ribs, chicken and three-cheese lasagna. It’s a meat lover’s paradise.”
“I’m a vegetarian. You’ll be picking me up off the floor if I eat all that food.”
“For real? What made you come to that decision?”
“When I was ten I saw a pig slaughtered on my grandfather’s farm. I quit eating meat that same day.”
“That’s brutal. You don’t mind if I have the buffet, do you?”
“Of course not. Don’t worry, I’m not one of those vegetarians who make meat-eaters feel bad.”
“Good, ’cause I’ve been dreaming about ribs all week!”
While they waited for the server to return, they discussed the Men of Initiative program. Conversation came easily and they shared the same opinion on many prevailing issues. Politics, like religion and sex, weren’t topics to discuss on a first date, but when the discussion turned to the state of black America, Rashawn couldn’t resist weighing in.
“Police brutality, racial profiling and the AIDS epidemic in the African-American community are topics that should be addressed by all of the presidential candidates but will probably be ignored. That said, I still think Senator Obama has a good chance of becoming president,” he told her, picking up a piece of rib with his hands. “Most people would rather see a black man in power than leave the country in the hands of a woman.”
Yasmin nodded. “You’re right. The United States might be the land of the free and the home of the brave, but when it comes to equality for women, we lag behind less prosperous nations.”
“We like to think we’re an elite superpower and that other countries should learn from us, but it’s often the other way around. Finland, Mozambique and the Philippines all have female presidents, but we’ve never had one in our two-hundred-and-thirty-year history.”
“Is that how old America is?” she asked. Yasmin was surprised that Rashawn knew who all of the political candidates were and the pressing issues dividing the country.
“Someone needs a refresher course on American history,” he teased.
Yasmin hid her frown behind her napkin. This was mind-blowing. If she had been standing up, she would have toppled over onto the floor. She had her doctorate. She had graduated at the top of her class. She should be the one schooling him, not the other way around. “How do you know so much about history and politics?”
“I’m a news junkie. When I was a kid my mom worked at the local TV station and me and my brothers used to hang out there after school.” Rashawn tasted his drink, a pensive expression on his face. “Mom always dreamed of working her way up from the mailroom and being the first woman of color in the anchor chair, but it never happened.”
“Do you see your dad now?”
“From time to time. Now that my career’s taken off, he comes around a lot more.”
