Free The Choir Director by Carl Weber Page B

Bishop, this is Aaron Mackie.”
    His voice had a sexy baritone sound to it that made me fantasize about what he might look like.
    “Mackie, how you doing? My wife and I were just talking about you. You make it into town all right?”
    “Yeah, I’m here in town, but I can’t get a cab for the life of me. Can you tell me what subway I should take to reach that apartment you got for me in Queens?”
    “You don’t need to take the subway, Mackie. My wife and Ijust left Columbia Presbyterian Hospital uptown. Give me fifteen minutes and we’ll be there to pick you up.”
    “Okay, Bishop. Thanks. I’m down here by the Hotel Pennsylvania.”
    T. K. glanced at me and I gave him a nod, letting him know everything he had said was fine with me. Shoot, now I wanted to see the face behind that sexy voice even if I knew that fantasy rarely ever lived up to reality.
    Not long after, we were on FDR Drive headed toward mid-town Manhattan, and then we were driving up Thirty-fourth Street to pick up Aaron Mackie. We had just stopped at a traffic light, and I was about to suggest we call and find out exactly where he was when my husband said, “There he is.”
    “Where?”
    “Over there, standing on the corner next to those suitcases.”
    I looked in the direction he was pointing. “That’s Aaron Mackie?” I almost gasped.
    “That’s him,” T. K. replied.
    I could not believe my eyes. I was hoping he’d be good-looking, but the man I was looking at was straight-up fine. So fine, in fact, that I had to turn my head to keep my husband from seeing my initial reaction.
    Wow! Now, he definitely lived up to the fantasy. He was the kind of man who, if I were still single, I’d jump on with a quickness. Too bad for him I loved my husband. I will say this, though: Life around First Jamaica Ministries was about to get much more entertaining, because when word got around about how fine our new choir director was, the sisters were going to lose their minds. I couldn’t wait to get home and get on the phone.
    “So, what do you think?”
    I glanced over at my husband, who was staring at me with a devilish smirk, like he knew exactly what was going through my mind.
    I took a breath, trying to act casual as I turned back to the handsome man across the street. “Well, there’s no question he is definitely easy on the eyes. If he sings and conducts a choir halfas good as he looks, our church is going to be on its way back to prosperity.”
    T. K. smiled as he slapped his hand down on his thigh. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”
    “You know what I was just thinking? A guy that good-looking is going to have to fight off the single sisters at the church. Is he married or dating anyone?”
    “Nope. Far as I know, he’s a single man.”
    I raised an eyebrow as I turned back toward my husband. All of a sudden, Aaron Mackie’s good looks and mannerisms made sense.
    “He isn’t gay, is he?” Just the thought of this fine man being with other men made my stomach hurt.
    “No, he’s not.”
    “You sure? How do you know?” I pushed.
    “I asked him, honey. We don’t need any more scandal around here, so I went out on a limb and asked him. He says he’s not gay.”
    “And you think he told you the truth?” I asked as the light turned green.
    “I have no choice but to believe him.” And on that note, he pulled up to the curb next to Aaron Mackie. T. K. stepped out of the car and shook Aaron’s hand. I got out of the car as they were putting his bags in the trunk. Lord have mercy, he was even more handsome up close.
    “Aaron Mackie, this is my wife, First Lady Monique Wilson.” T. K. smiled as he introduced us.
    “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mackie,” I said, politely offering him my hand.
    “The pleasure’s all mine, ma’am.” He took my hand and kissed it. “And, please, call me Mackie. All my friends do.”
    “Okay, Mackie.” I know T. K. must have wanted to kill me, because I turned all kinds of red, but when I