Deliver Me (21 page)

Toby shrugged. “I
wouldn’t say mogul yet, but someone has to be responsible for giving people a
reason to shake their butts.”

“I hear that, honey,”
Nia flirted.

“I should have
expected to find you with a beautiful woman on each arm,” Toby said to Eli. “Has
my brother been behaving himself?”

“He’s been the
perfect gentleman,” Nia replied.

“As always,” Eli
added.

Toby shot him a
raised eyebrow, “Do you want me to bring up any of the number of stories I can
remember of you being anything but a perfect gentleman?”

“Don’t even think
about it,” Eli said. “Why don’t we find a table?”

“I’ve got one. Come
on.”

Eli took Monica by
the arm. Beyond the door revealed another room Monica could only describe as
snug. About thirty chairs, all filled with people of various ages and
ethnicities, faced a tiny stage. There were more of the blue oil lamps casting
shadows on the tables. A sleek, black baby grand piano sat in a corner on the
left side of the stage. A drum set was in the opposite corner, with a large
base guitar between them.

“Excuse us.”

Monica moved to the
side as four men, one carrying a trumpet, edged past them and made their way to
the stage.

“Up here,” Toby
said. He guided them up a narrow stairway to an alcove overlooking the main
floor.

“Is this okay?” Eli
asked as he pulled out a chair for her. That look was in his eyes again. Monica
wasn’t sure how to describe it. Interest? Awareness? Whatever it was, it was
tangible.

“This is perfect,” Monica
answered. She tried to ignore the tingle that radiated from the spot where his
hand brushed the space between her shoulders.

“So, how long will
you be in town?” Eli asked Toby.

“I’m not sure.” Toby
signaled a waitress. He relayed an order for two Mai Tai’s for the ladies at
the table and beers for Eli and himself. “Actually, I’m thinking about moving
back to New Orleans permanently,” Toby answered.

Eli’s brows shot up.
Before he could comment, Toby said, “Don’t start, E.”

Eli put his hands up
in mock surrender. “I’m not saying anything. I just thought Houston was the
spot for finding new talent. I definitely didn’t think you’d be back in New
Orleans anytime soon.”

“Yeah, well, Houston’s
only an hour away by plane,” Toby answered.

“It’ll be good to have
you home, brother.” Eli reached across the table to shake his younger brother’s
hand. The sincerity in his eyes touched Monica’s soul.

“Are we supposed to
share a cup of flavored coffee now?” Toby joked, lightening the mood once
again.

“Shut up, man. Let’s
get to the important stuff. Who is this newly discovered star?”

“Aria Jordan.”

“Is she any good?”
Eli asked.

“Would I sign on as
her manager if she wasn’t?”

“I don’t know.
Depends on how she looks when she walks out on stage.”

“She has a range that
goes from Toni Braxton’s low alto to Patti Labelle on her best day.”

“Uh huh, and I’ll
bet she has an ass like J. Lo.”

Toby shook his head.
“Excuse my brother, ladies. As you can see, his ungentlemanly qualities tend to
come out as the night wears on.”

“And if my brother
is true to his reputation, this new talent,” Eli made quotation marks with his
fingers, “will be worthy of the
Sports
Illustrated
Swimsuit Edition.”

Before Toby could respond, the emcee walked up to the mike
and introduced the night’s performer. A petite, but curvy young woman entered
from a door just to the right of the stage. The trumpet player took her by the
hand and led her up the three steps to the microphone stand at the center of
the stage.

“I rest my case,”
Eli said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his hands behind his head.

“I never denied she
looked good,” Toby defended, “But that’s not all she has going for her. Just
wait.”

The performer opened
her mouth and Monica was stunned by the amazing voice that pelted out a song she’d
never heard before. The entire club sat riveted by the sheer beauty of Aria’s
soulful signing.

When the slow, sexy
tune was over, Monica had no qualms joining the rest of Snug Harbor’s patrons
in a standing ovation.

“That was amazing,”
she said to Toby.

“Unbelievable,” Nia
added.

They all looked at
Eli. She knew it killed him to have to admit he was wrong. “Okay, so she can
sing.”

“No way, man, you
gotta do better than that. After all the grief you gave me, you need to eat
some serious crow.”

“Fine. Fine. She’s
the bomb, all right?” A repentant Eli was way sexier than Monica could handle
with a Mai Tai in her system. “Really, man, you’ve got yourself something
special right there. I hope you’re treating her right.”

“I’m a professional,
E.”

“I’m not talking
just professionally.”

“That’s all there
is.”

“Uh huh,” Eli said.

Aria Jordan came
over to their table and wrapped her arms around Toby’s shoulders, planting a
kiss on his cheek.

That was a little
friendlier greeting than most professionals would share. Monica looked over at
Eli, who sported a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“Everybody, this is
Aria.” Toby introduced each of them by name and the young woman, who had to be
no older than twenty, floated around the table, shaking each of their hands.

“You have an amazing
voice,” Monica told her. “And the song was beautiful.”

“Thank you, although
Toby gets credit for the song.”

“You wrote that?”
Eli stole the words from Monica’s mouth.

“Yeah, I’ve been
writing a little. You know, just playing around. This is the first one to ever
be recorded, though.”

Monica was duly
impressed.

“It was nice meeting
all of you,” Aria said. She turned her attention to Toby. There was no
mistaking the infatuation in her eyes, though Monica noted it was not
reciprocated. “I want to go around to some of the other tables. I’ll catch up
with you after the last performance, okay?”

“Sure, and good job.”
He gave her a wink so similar to Eli’s Monica was certain the elder brother had
given Toby lessons.

“Thank you,” she
said, bending to give him another kiss. That girl was in love. Monica had seen
the same starry-eyed look reflected in the mirror when she had first started
dating Patrick and fancied herself in love, too.

Now why did she have
to bring him up?

She had actually
been enjoying herself.
Really
enjoying herself, for the first time in months. And just like that, her foolish
mind had to conjure his image and ruin her good mood.

No way. She would not let thoughts of Patrick dampen her
night.

“Anybody up for
dancing,” Monica asked, surprising herself.

“Sure,” Nia
answered, already rising. “Okay, Eli, let me see what you’ve got.” She grabbed
Eli by the arm and yanked him up.

Snug Harbor was a
little too snug for an actual dance floor but that didn’t stop them. Monica
allowed Toby to guide her to the narrow passageway just beyond their table. The
old, hardwood floor creaked as the four of them, along with three other
couples, tried to maneuver in the small space. A local saxophonist belted out
an upbeat tune. Monica had a hard time keeping up with Toby, who may be good
looking, but couldn’t dance to save his life.

“You really need to
stick to song writing,” Monica said as he tripped her up again. Toby had about
four left feet.

“Eli’s the dancer in
the family. I do better with slow songs,” he said with a good-natured laugh.

As if on cue, the
trumpeter began to play the melody to an old Freddie Jackson song.

“Let’s switch,” Nia
said, reaching for Toby. “That one over there thinks he’s on Soul Train.”

Monica turned to
find Eli standing scant inches from her, his palm upturned, awaiting her hand.
She placed it in his and allowed him to pull her closer than she should have.
He placed a hand on her waist, settling it on the ride of her hip. The other
hand entwined with hers, just above her shoulder.

Monica closed her
eyes for a brief moment, trying desperately to collect her thoughts. When she
opened them the sensual fire radiating from Eli’s heated gaze was enough to
scorch her.

“Are you enjoying
yourself,” Eli asked, his voice a husky whisper against the backdrop of the
song’s sensual melody.

“Yes,” Monica
answered softly.

“That’s good to
hear,” Eli said. “I would hate for you to be bored with me already.”

“I doubt that would
ever happened,” she answered with a shaky laugh. She took another unsteady
breath, but the lightheadedness wasn’t going away.

They swayed to the
music, their bodies barely touching. When someone bumped into her back, forcing
her breasts into brief contact with Eli’s well-sculpted chest, Monica’s world
nearly exploded. The sensation of his defined muscles against her long-ignored
breasts made her ache with need. It had been way too long since she’d had a
man.

Monica made the
mistake of glancing at Eli again, and the look in his eyes said it all. He was
just as affected by the currents of electricity shooting sparks between their
bodies.

Again, the couple
dancing next to them bumped into Monica, but this time, she was pushed flush
against him, and there was no mistaking the hardness that pressed into her
stomach. She yearned to pull him closer. She was mesmerized by the evidence of
his desire; empowered that she could elicit such a response from him.

“I’m sorry,” he
mouthed, a mixture of contriteness and yearning in his eyes. “I can’t help it,”
Eli whispered against her cheek.

Don’t be
, Monica wanted to say. She couldn’t help her reaction either as her
body experienced the closest thing to an orgasm she had ever had in public.

She should pull
away. Remaining in his arms, pressed up close to his body, would only
complicate an already complicated situation. But she couldn’t tear herself away
from his hold.

When the song ended,
Eli trailed his finger down her bare arm as he escorted her back to the table,
the sensation of his touch remaining upon her skin long after he’d let her
go.
 

Toby called for Eli
to follow him downstairs to the stage area so he could introduce him to a few
of the band members. As soon as he was out of earshot, Nia slapped the table.

“All I have to say
is good riddance Patrick Dangerfield.”

“What are you
talking about,” Monica said, trying not to watch Eli walk away, but watching
all the same.

“Girl, you may not
think you and that man are serious about each other, but from what I just saw,
you’re lying to yourself.”

Monica forced
herself to look over at Nia. “Don’t start. I told you this is just a business
deal.”

“Honey, I’ve been in
the business world for a few years now, and I have never been hugged up on any
of my business partners.” Monica attempted to speak, but Nia cut her off. “You
didn’t see the look in your eyes while you were dancing with him, Monica. This
isn’t just business for you.”

A bead of panic
threaded through Monica’s bloodstream. Nia was right. She did want him. She
didn’t just want him, she
burned
for
him. But was she setting herself up for heartache?

This was different
from what she’d had with Patrick. Although she now realized what she and
Patrick felt for each other wasn’t even close to love, Monica had truly
believed it was the real thing at the beginning of their relationship.

But she hadn’t gone
into this thing with Eli blind. She knew his stand on dating doctors, his
reputation for being a player. Forget the message his body had sent while they
were dancing; that what purely physical. Monica knew that desire did not reach
his heart. And if she didn’t take control of this situation soon, it was her
own heart that would be in danger of being crushed.

Monica sat at the
table in quiet contemplation for nearly the entire hour they remained at the
bar, getting up only once to dance with Toby during Aria’s second performance.
When they left the club, Monica sat rigidly in the passenger seat, her mind
reeling, her confused emotions feeding the headache that had started forming
toward the end of the evening.

“This was so much
fun,” Nia said from the backseat. “Your brother is a piece of work.”

“Yeah, Toby knows
how to have a good time,” Eli answered.

Monica didn’t join
in their conversation. Instead, she spent the drive home reacquainting herself
with her common sense, and all the reasons she could not allow this attraction
to consume her. Elijah Holmes was a means to an end. Period. She would not lose
sight of her ultimate goal.