“Come here,” he said, pulling her closer to him.

“I enjoyed spending time with you tonight,” he said. This time he stared deeply into Raven’s eyes. “Did you enjoy me, as well?”

“Yes. Everything was perfect,” Raven answered softly.

“May I kiss you?” Dru asked.

“Yes.”

With his eyes open, Dru moved slowly, dipping his head toward Raven’s. When his lips met hers, he closed his eyes, succumbing to the colorful sensation of their first kiss. The flutter of a million butterflies rattled his rib cage as he drank her in. Their lips locked and tongues danced for endless minutes as they explored one another like harbingers discovering new territory.

When they parted, Raven kept her eyes closed for a moment until the woozy feelings that threatened to overcome her subsided. When she opened them, her gaze met his, and she was lost in a smoldering heat that made the balmy summer evening pale in comparison.

“I’ll call you,” Dru said.

Raven nodded her head, words having momentarily escaped her. She watched Dru walk down the steps and to his black Infiniti sedan. From the curb, he turned and gave her that dazzling smile she’d already begun to cherish.

MILLS & BOON

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KIM SHAW

is a high-school English teacher in New Jersey, where she resides with her husband and two children. In May 2009 she earned a master’s degree in fine arts (MFA) in creative writing at Rutgers Newark graduate school—an example of her lifelong dedication to learning.

Romance Backstage
Kim Shaw

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Romance Backstage is the story of a dancer who finds

love unexpectedly while pursuing her passion. I dedicate

this tale to my daughter, who is poetry in motion on stage.

Stay on your toes, Niyala—you make the world a more

beautiful place.

Dear Reader,

The passion of a true performer is immeasurable, built on countless hours of sacrifice and dedication. In writing this story it was important to me to show a great deal of respect and encouragement from Dru for Raven’s passion. In addition, Raven’s struggle with her identity might easily have been a turnoff for an ambitious young man; yet Dru not only supports Raven’s pursuit of the truth, he fights fiercely to protect her from any harm the repercussions of this knowledge may cause. Dru Davis is an amazing man, made more so because he doesn’t even know it.

Raven and Dru are a dynamic couple who work hard, love hard and, most importantly, try hard to be their best selves. I was invigorated by their tale and hope you are, too!

Sincerely,

Kim Shaw

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 1

Warm Up

“Five, six, seven, eight. And one, two, up three, four, down five, six and—stop, stop!”

At the sound of Marvin Barkley’s boisterous voice the thirty-six dancers on stage froze in various stages of motion, like a Norman Rockwell painting. Complete stillness descended.

Barkley was an impatient man, to put it mildly. He was highly critical, demanding and about as tactful as a porcupine engaged in a game of Twister. Yet every dancer, actor, singer or wannabe worth their salt would give their arches to work with the renowned Broadway director. Raven Walker, a recent Julliard graduate, was no exception.

“People, this number only works if it is precise. Crisp and clean is what we’re going for here. Otherwise, it’s simply a bunch of arms and legs flailing about like drunken guppies. Tall guy, you’re missing the up step. Pink shirt, where are the hips? It’s bop, bop, bop…bop,” Barkley bellowed, snapping his midsection from left to right. “You do have hips, don’t you?”

He did not wait for an answer, and Raven did not attempt to give him one. Of course she had hips—sometimes, especially during lifts, she thought she had a little too much to work with in that department. She wiped a clump of hair from her sweaty brow, took a deep breath and set her jaw with determination.

“All right, let’s take it from the top. Meagan, sweetie, why don’t you do it with them again? Maybe following a professional will help them to get this sorry mess together.”

Barkley motioned to the choreographer, Meagan Dawes, to lead the troupe through the number again. A fabulous dancer and instructor in her own right, Meagan had worked with him on his prior two productions and was used to Barkley’s demanding nature.

Raven closed her eyes, envisioning the routine in her mind. She didn’t know why she was a proverbial catastrophe in tights today. True, her monthly visitor had decided to drop in uninvited yesterday, bearing gifts of butt-kicking stomach cramps and searing back pain. But that was nothing to get excited over—she’d danced through that type of discomfort many times before.

She’d been dancing since she was five years old and had experienced every phase of growth and development from perched up onto the balls of her feet. As a dancer, she’d grown accustomed to blocking out aches, pains, fatigue and stress. Nothing mattered once she got onstage and the music began. If an out-of-body experience meant that her soul soared up to the heavens each time she slipped on a pair of pointe shoes or gore boots, then she’d been flying high for the past seventeen years. Raven breathed, ate and slept dance, and she was focused and dogged in her quest to be the best at what she did, through it all. And even if she wasn’t at her best on her toes, she knew how to make it appear as if she were. She’d been taking acting and vocal lessons since middle school. She’d learned how to reveal her heart and soul on stage when she performed; she’d also learned how to become a different character, with emotions and motivations alien to her own. This triple threat never let anything come between her and the show.

Today’s dance routine was not overly complicated. It was a sensual number, with lots of short, multi-movement steps that had to be carried out quickly but still give the appearance of being one flowing, leisurely motion. But even though Raven could see the entire piece on her brain’s view screen, and even though she felt the music moving inside of her, she just couldn’t quite let go and flow with it. She told herself that perhaps it was just her nerves. It had only been two weeks since she’d graduated from Julliard and here she was already auditioning for a role in The Salon, Marvin Barkley’s eagerly anticipated new Broadway show. At twenty-two years old, she was faced with a chance to jump-start her career as a professional stage performer—an idea that was equally intriguing and terrifying. The idea of earning the opportunity to entertain a live audience night after night sent an almost electric shock to her heart when she allowed herself to consider the possibility. She was thrilled to even be there at the Minskoff in Manhattan’s theater district, but what was plaguing her was much more than nerves.

Raven was distracted and had been ever since she’d found an old, tattered photograph in a plastic storage bin in her parents’ closet earlier that week. She’d stared at the photograph for the better part of an hour, until she heard her mother enter their two-bedroom brownstone apartment. She’d stuffed the picture into a back pocket, closed the lid on the container and returned it to its place at the back of the closet. Later that night, alone in her bedroom with the door securely shut, she’d stared at the photograph again, seeing herself in the face of the woman who’d given birth to her—the woman who’d abandoned Raven, then a robust toddler, on the steps of the Convent Avenue Baptist Church at the corner of 145th Street and Convent Avenue in Harlem.

Raven opened her eyes, dragging her wandering mind back into the present, and shook her arms violently, attempting to release the tension that seemed to be holding her body hostage. She didn’t have time to dwell on negative thoughts.

Megan began the count with a rapid clapping of her hands and Raven fell in line. The upbeat tempo began, booming loudly from the speakers, and it was on. Raven’s mind got in the zone, and she moved through the routine, not as effortlessly as she would have liked, but she felt more confident in her performance this time around. Barkley continued snapping directions at them, changing steps and counts, and the dancers onstage went through the routine in part and in its entirety nearly a dozen additional times before he finally called it quits.

Ordered to take an hour break and then report to the stage left door where a list of finalists would be posted, the dancers filed off stage, faces aglow with hope and desire. Those who would make the cut were instructed to report for rehearsals beginning promptly the next morning. Some of the dancers left to grab a bite to eat. Others jumped on their cell phones or pulled out their Sidekicks and BlackBerries, itching to get in contact with agents, parents or lovers. A few, including Raven, sat quietly toward the back of the theater. She pulled a five-by-eight-inch leather-bound journal from her duffel bag, opened to a fresh page and began to write.

Raven had been finding comfort between the pages of her journal since high school. On these crisp pages she’d been able to give voice to the emotions that wrestled within her. Her fears and desires were all expressed, along with her pains, triumphs and disappointments. Today’s page needed to shout success—it was the only outcome she would even consider.

An hour zipped by and as the dancers began to file back into the theater, Raven tucked her journal away and gathered her belongings and her nerve. She joined the throng of bodies converging at the stage door, standing on the tips of her toes as she strained to read the list of names that had been taped to the painted metal. It took several minutes of jostling for a position before she was able to scan the list from top to bottom.

The lead roles were the characters Selma and Darren. There was a supporting cast of about five other characters with speaking and singing parts, and then there were a dozen ensemble spots. Nineteen spots to be had, yet there were thirty-six hungry performers eager to devour them.

On the pre-audition application, there were three lines on which the applicant was to place their first, second and third role choices. Raven had only made an entry in the first choice slot—Selma. She was trying out for the lead role and had believed from the start that setting her sights on that role and that role only would keep her guardian angels focused on the goal.

She scanned top of the list once and then twice, her disappointment at not seeing her name causing her chest to constrict as if all of the air had been expelled from her lungs. She turned halfway, prepared to move away from the list, but stopped, her gaze returning to the white sheets of paper once more. She forced her eyes to move downward for the first time, away from the top of the list. In the middle of the page, her eyes stopped roaming. She’d found her name, written directly below as the first entry beneath the word Ensemble.

Raven’s disappointment was numbing. It was not until that moment that she realized how terribly strong her desire had been to land the role of Selma. She’d known that there would be more seasoned performers at the audition than she, but she’d also known that her talent as a dancer and her considerable singing and acting skills set her apart from most. She had put her heart and soul into the two-minute videotape she’d submitted the week before, performing a short soliloquy from Porgy and Bess that ended with her singing a few bars from “Summertime.” She was good, damned good. She’d obviously impressed Barkley’s people because it was based on that tape that she was even called in for the dance auditions. She believed with every inch of her being that despite her inexperience and her age, her strength was dance. It wasn’t arrogance that made her feel that way. Her confidence was born from the sheer passion that burned inside of her for dance. She honestly believed that, given the chance, she could bring a fire to the role that no other performer there could. But apparently, there were eighteen other people who were just as talented and at least one who Barkley believed would make a better Selma than her.

Now that her hopes had been summarily crushed, Raven wanted nothing more to do with the production. She would not settle for a two-bit position in the background. She pushed her way back through the sea of bodies and moved rapidly toward the exit. Raven kept her head bowed, her eyes cast downward to avoid making eye contact with anyone lest they see the tears lining the rims of her sockets. In one instant she was at the theater’s back exit door, reaching out to push the door open. In the next second she was in a head-on collision that left her pink leotard covered with frosty brown iced coffee.

Raven lifted her astonished eyes from the mess that dripped down the front of her body to two outstretched arms and hands now holding virtually empty extralarge Starbucks coffee tumblers. Her eyes continued to travel upward until they landed on the person’s face. At that moment, instead of feeling the chill of the cold liquid seeping into her pores, all she felt was a flush of heat. Deep brown, apologetic eyes gazed into hers and her pulse quickened.

“Miss, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“I…I’m fine…I’m the one who should be apologizing. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Raven stammered.

She looked at the liquid pooling on the floor between them.

“Jeez, I can’t believe this. Here, let me pay you for the drinks,” she said with a sigh.

“No, no, don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal,” he said.

Raven shot him a look that was a mixture of suspicion and confusion.

“What? Don’t be silly. It was my fault, and I’ll cover it. Why should you have to pay for my recklessness?”

“Perhaps because crashing into you is the single most thrilling thing to happen to me all day,” he said.

This time he allowed the smile that had been toying at his lips free reign. Full, sensuous lips spread, his face opening up like a flower blooming right before her eyes. His brown eyes absolutely twinkled, and a dimple in his left cheek deepened.

Raven was momentarily speechless, caught off guard by both the accidental collision and his graciousness about the whole thing. The fact that he was more scrumptious than a decadent chocolate dessert had a little bit to do with her loss for words.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’m just a little wet,” she said.

“There’s a ladies’ room right over there,” he said, pointing. “Maybe you can clean yourself up a bit.”

Raven stared at him for a moment longer and then turned toward the direction in which his extended Starbuck’s cup was pointing. She spun on her rubber soles and quickly moved toward the restroom, disappearing inside. In five minutes, she’d removed the saturated leotard, used wet paper towels and hand soap to wipe away the stickiness that had settled on her torso and arms, and donned a black T-shirt and a pair of gray yoga pants. She risked a glance in the mirror and when her eyes focused on themselves, the disappointment registered in them was crystal clear.

Raven turned away from the mirror. Two deep breaths and her stomach muscles seemed to stop clenching. Two more and she felt the weakness in her knees subside. She’d wanted that lead role with every fiber of her being. She lifted her head, stuck out her chin and marched out of the bathroom. She had no intention of being a part of anyone’s ensemble, so walking out of the Minskoff Theater without looking back was something she had to do.

The calls from Mr. Starbucks were no match for the speed with which Raven moved as she strode across the theater and exited onto the busy Manhattan street. She’d had enough disaster for one day.

Chapter 2

God’s Favor

“Starbucks Iced Café Mochas are meant to be drunk and not worn,” Raven said emphatically when talking to her best friend, Carley, on the phone that evening while taking a bubble bath.

“Says you,” Carley replied devilishly.

It had been an excruciatingly disappointing day, and Raven was not in the mood for Carley’s antics. She shifted in the steaming water, causing the bubbles to lap at the sides of the tub, threatening to spill out onto to the salmon-pink-tiled floor.

“I don’t know why I even called you,” she hissed.

“Of course you called me. I’m your best friend and closest confidante. Who else would you have called?”

“And I curse the day that I borrowed those stinking tap shoes from you in Madame Aubourg’s class freshman year,” Raven snapped.

She’d hoped that Carley would make her feel better when she shared how she had failed to land the lead role in Marvin Barkley’s new show. Instead, Carley had fixated on the part about how she’d had to take the subway home smelling like a cup of coffee and laughed hysterically.

“Look, Raven, need I remind you that at least you are dancing?” Carley shot back.

Raven sighed, a wave of remorse washing over her. She wanted to scrub her mouth out with the entire tub of bubbles for being so insensitive. In her own misery she’d forgotten that Carley had suffered a dancer’s worst nightmare six weeks back—a torn ACL. She was on a long, tough road trying to come back, and it would be months before she’d be able to even think about dance auditions again.

“I’m sorry, Carley,” she said meaningfully.

“No, don’t be sorry. The last thing I need is one more person feeling sorry for me. I had a bad break, but the fight’s not over. What I want you to do is to just be grateful that you’ve got this shot. I know it’s not the role you wanted, but at least you get to be on stage. Come on, Raven, you have to go for it.”

“I know you’re right. In my head I know it, but…damn,” Raven said, unable to find the words that could encompass what she was feeling.

Raven lay in the bathtub for over an hour, until she began to shiver from the now tepid water. Before going to bed at seven, she left a note on the kitchen table for her parents, who were out for the evening. In the message, she succinctly informed them that she’d landed an ensemble role and would be out of the house for rehearsals by dawn every weekday, starting the next morning. While her talk with Carley had not lifted her spirits very much, it had forced her to adopt a more optimistic attitude about the show.

Raven let the cumbersome duffel bag slide from her shoulder, down her arm and onto the gray concrete of the sidewalk. She glanced up the street toward Seventh Avenue and then turned her face in the other direction toward Eighth. There were more than a few others out and about like her at the ungodly hour of six o’clock in the morning. Men in business suits, women in skirts and matching jackets with running shoes on their feet, all marched like eager little ants to midtown offices, laden with briefcases, bluetooth ear pieces and tall cups of steaming hot energy boosters. Manhattan was indeed the city that never slept, and taking a curt sip of her own cup of joe, Raven recognized that it was also a city that was high on manufactured stimulants.

The sun was beginning to rise between the tall, imposing buildings which enveloped the theater district. By the time the maintenance crew arrived to open the stage doors, Raven’s back felt as if it had been imprinted with the brick pattern of the wall she’d been leaning against for the better part of an hour.

“Do you guys generally get here around now?” she asked the first worker she saw.

“Me…yeah, but Burke’s usually here by six o’clock. I heard there was a big pileup on the New Jersey Turnpike this morning, though. Are you part of the new cast?”

“Yeah.” Raven smiled wanly.

“Well, you’re bright and early. Come on in,” he said, smiling back as he held the door open for her.

Raven entered the dark theater, taking slow steps as she maneuvered backstage among the equipment, cables and props. She exited onto the stage, which was dimly lit. Dropping her duffel bag to one side, she stood center stage, looking out into the darkness. In her mind, she visualized a packed house, with an audience full of eager theater-goers whose eyes were trained on her. If she hadn’t known it before, she knew now, deep within her soul that the stage was where she belonged. Standing there, she almost felt like crying out with excitement as she realized that her dreams were actually beginning to come true.

Raven pressed Play on the iPod that was in the armband strapped to her right biceps. She closed her eyes, raising both arms above her head. Her body swayed slowly from side to side, moving to the beat as Anita Baker’s jazzy voice flowed through the earbuds. Reaching for the heavens, she let the music invade her body and order her movements. She went through a series of lyrical steps, languid sensual progressions that carried her across the stage—a solitary butterfly floating on a rhythm all her own. By the time her body came to rest, she was filled with the sweetest emotion. The greatest joy she had ever known came when she was dancing, and it seemed as if that feeling only got better with time. A thin layer of perspiration covered her radiant face, and as she strode across the stage to retrieve a hand towel from her duffel bag, she saw him.

“Do you need me to clear off the stage?” Raven asked, removing the right ear piece.

He rose from his seat at a corner of the fifth row. Raven watched as he made his way toward her, moving into the dim stage lights.

“It’s you. Starbucks,” she gasped.

“Dru…Dru Davis,” he said, extending his hand.

A warm smile spread across his face. Raven shook his hand, unable to disengage her eyes from his.

“And you are Raven Walker, correct?”

“Yes, I am. How’d you know my name?” she asked skeptically.

“Well, I was planning to file a claim with my collision insurance yesterday, so I asked around about the freight train that hit me.”

Dru’s sexy smile betrayed him, causing Raven to laugh out loud for the first time in days.

“What are you doing here so early? I thought rehearsals didn’t start until nine o’clock,” he asked.

Raven shrugged her shoulders.

“By nine o’clock I’m usually catching my second wind. Got it from my dad who’s friends with the early bird and his worm,” she replied. “What about you? How early do the stagehands have to report?”

Dru didn’t respond right away. He studied her face silently.

“You’re an amazing dancer,” he said at last.

“Thank you,” Raven responded, noting the conspicuous change of subject.

“How long have you been dancing?”

“My mom says that I danced before I walked, but I think she’s exaggerating.”

Because most people did not know that Raven was adopted as a toddler, Lorraine’s exaggerated boasting about her daughter’s talent went unchecked. However, lately Raven found herself bristling under it. She shook that thought from her mind and returned her attention to Dru, whose piercing eyes were still studying her as he leaned against the side of the stage’s steps.

“What were you listening to?” he asked, pointing to the iPod on her arm.

“Anita Baker.”

“Anita Baker? What could you possibly know about Miss Baker, as young as you are?”

“I didn’t know you had to be a certain age to enjoy good music,” Raven countered indignantly. “Besides, you don’t know how old I am, and you’d better not even think about asking me.”

Dru laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “All right, no need to punch my lights out, Rocky.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Raven reminded.

She’d grown increasingly curious about this Dru Davis, especially since this game of twenty-one questions had become completely one-sided.

“I’m not part of the stage crew,” he said simply.

“Oh, I just assumed…”

Raven looked more closely at Dru’s face, trying to figure out if he was one of the dancers who’d auditioned yesterday. She dismissed that theory, realizing that a man as good-looking as he was would have been hard to overlook, no matter how preoccupied she was by the grueling audition.

“I’m sorry, but should I know you?” she asked finally.

It was Dru’s turn to shrug nonchalantly.

“I don’t see why you would. I’m just a regular guy who works behind the scenes.”

The theater flooded with lights just as Raven opened her mouth to reply.

“Hey, Dru, my man, you’re here already. I was just about to give you a call to see if you wanted to meet for coffee since we didn’t get to talk yesterday. How’s it going?”

“Marv, I’m good, man. It’s great to be back in the city, that’s for sure.”

Marvin Barkley approached the stage and the two men shook hands and embraced, smacking each other on their backs.

“I guess it would be a nice change of pace after spending an entire year abroad. You’ll have to tell me all about your trip. Your father’s doing a great thing over there.”

Barkley turned suddenly to face Raven. “Good morning, Miss Walker.”

Raven’s surprise that the man knew her name registered all over her face. She quickly recovered, flashed a smile and said, “Good morning, Mr. Barkley.”

“Marvin. Call me Marvin. We’re going to be working together every day from now until what will seem like forever.”

Raven nodded. “In that case, why don’t you call me Raven. It certainly beats ‘pink shirt,’” she said, smiling.

“Touché,” Barkley replied. “I see you’ve met the illustrious Dru Davis?”

“Sort of,” Raven said, her eyes linking with Dru’s once again. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you gentlemen to your business.”

Raven retrieved her duffel bag and headed backstage. She was well aware that Dru’s eyes followed her until she was out of sight, their warm rays caressing her retreating frame as she departed.

Chapter 3

Catch Me If You Can

“Raven, Raven Walker…wait up,” a voice called as Raven stepped out onto the busy Manhattan street.

It was two o’clock and rehearsal had just ended. An exhausted cast filed out of the theater, headed to their various other obligations. Raven was planning to hop on the subway back uptown to her family’s Harlem apartment. She turned to find Dru exiting the theater behind her and rushing to catch up with her.

“What’s up?” she asked in as casual a voice as she could muster. She gathered the mass of damp, dark curly hair back with one hand and replaced the ponytail holder she’d removed with the other, never breaking the connection her eyes had made with Dru’s.

Secretly, she had wanted to make a quick getaway to avoid another run-in with the man. When rehearsals had gotten underway, she’d quickly found out exactly who Mr. Dru Davis was. The word embarrassed didn’t even begin to cover how she felt at not having recognized one of the most influential modern figures in the area of stage. He was the Dru Davis, of Davis Theater Initiatives. Barkley had introduced Dru to the cast, informing them that not only was he the son of the infamous producer Stuart Davis, who’d had a hand in many of the classic Broadway productions over the past thirty years, but that Dru would be serving as a producer for The Salon.

Dru bore only a passing resemblance to the elder Davis in her opinion, the younger man’s smooth chocolate skin and sensual eyes being disarmingly attractive. From what she remembered from newspaper and magazine photographs of Stuart Davis, Dru was several inches taller, at least six feet three inches, and whereas the father possessed a thin, wiry build, Dru’s muscular frame was discernable even through the plain white T-shirt and dark denim jeans he wore now. In short, the young man’s sex appeal was all his own.

“I was wondering if you had time to grab a bite with me,” Dru asked.

Raven’s head began shaking vehemently before her lips could even form the words. She realized immediately from the startled expression on his face that she must have appeared to be having an epileptic fit or something.

“No…no,” she stammered.

“No, you don’t have time, or no—”

“No, I…I can’t. Sorry,” Raven hurried, cutting Dru off.

She gave her best attempt at a smile, turned and scurried away from him. She could feel his eyes boring into her, which only made her quicken her pace. She wanted to put as many square inches of city sidewalk between herself and Dru Davis as possible, before he had a chance to corner her again. There was no way her resolve could hold up very long under the warmth of his intense gaze.

By the time she’d boarded a crowded subway car headed uptown, her cheeks were flushed. That feeling definitely did not come from the fast pace of her trek nor the heat of the oppressive underground iron horse, however. No, it was the pallor of embarrassment that had colored her as she replayed the scene with Dru over and over again in her mind. He must think her a complete idiot. A silly, juvenile idiot at that. Why had she run away like a cockroach scurrying under the glare of fluorescent lights? There were two reasons, and while both were equally compelling, the knowledge of that did not make her feel much better. For one, he was the Dru Davis. Essentially, he was the boss, one of the players behind the production that she’d just landed a role in. Her very first production in a brand-new career and there was no way she was going to get involved with one of the bosses and make a name for herself as that girl five minutes out of the gate.

The second reason caused Raven’s heart to skip a beat as a warm fluttering sensation rippled through her entire body. Dru Davis was unabashedly gorgeous. Everything about the man had touched her—his smile, his eyes, even the timbre of his voice. His scent and his body caused a shock to her heart that she thought would cause it to jump through her chest. She had never been so physically attracted to a man, neither stranger nor acquaintance, as she had been to Dru, and she was completely unnerved by it. Her only defense was to run, because she knew that with her limited experience in matters of the heart, she was no match for a man as charismatic and alluring as Dru Davis.

Chapter 4

The Look of Love

She wanted to say no. She actually opened her mouth to say no, to tell him that she was meeting someone or that she had an important appointment. Yet, as she looked up into eyes that shone like brand-new copper pennies and inhaled the scent of him that was fragrantly masculine, she was speechless. When her lips parted at last, the only word that she remembered how to articulate was a bubbly, “Sure.”

It had been a week since Raven had joined the cast of The Salon. It had been a long, torturous week since her first encounter with Dru Davis. It had also been a week of successful dodging of his advances—until today. Rehearsal today had been light, as Marvin Barkley had been called away midpoint on a family emergency. They’d been left to just run lines with one another and to study sheet music and song lyrics. As practice wrapped up, Raven didn’t notice Dru seated in the back of the theater, his eyes studying her intently. As she exited the restroom, headed toward the backstage exit door, Dru was standing there, waiting for her. Wearing that easy smile that caused her heart rate to speed up whenever she saw it, Dru had the appearance of a man on a mission.

“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Walker in the flesh,” Dru said.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean by that,” Raven replied.

“Are you?” Dru laughed. “All right, I’ll explain. I’ve been trying to catch up with you for days and all I ever seem to see is the back of your head as you dash off to parts unknown. I was beginning to think you were just a figment of my imagination.”

“Well, Mr. Davis, I guess all I can say is that I’m a busy woman.”

“I’m sure that’s the case. Either that or for some incomprehensible reason you’re running away from me.”

Dru’s blunt declaration caught Raven by surprise, causing her already speeding heart rate to kick up another notch. At the same instant, she was certain that there lay no hint of arrogance behind his words.

“I don’t run from anything, Mr. Davis,” she replied.

“Prove it. Have lunch with me.”

They were seated immediately inside of TGI Friday’s restaurant after a short walk up Seventh Avenue. Dru had taken charge of Raven’s duffel bag as they walked and chatted about rehearsal and the show. Raven’s mind was filled with conflicting thoughts as they strolled and as much as she believed that an attraction to Dru Davis was a reckless act on her part, she couldn’t completely squash the excitement that being beside him evoked. While they waited for their meals, he stared at her for so long that she began to grow uncomfortable.

“What?” she finally asked.

His thick eyebrows knotted in confusion.

“You’re staring at me,” she explained.

“I’m sorry. Does that make you uncomfortable?” he asked.

“No, not at all,” she lied. “Just curious.”

“About me?”

“Yeah, about you. I’m just trying to figure out what your deal is, Mr. Davis.”

“My deal? What, are you accusing me of not being exactly what you see in front of you…of having some hidden agenda or something?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just wondering what’s up with you. I mean, I hope you’re not another one of these game-playing brothers, because, trust me, the world has enough of those.”

Raven’s arched eyebrows and stone-set chin made it clear that she was very serious indeed.

“Ouch, that hurt,” Dru said, pressing a palm to his chest directly over his heart. “No reason to be so skeptical, Ms. Walker.”

“I’m not skeptical. I just don’t like games.”

“And what exactly have I done to make you feel like I’m running a game on you?”

“Well for starters, how come you didn’t just tell me who you were the day we met? You tried to make it seem like you were just a stagehand or something,” she blurted.

There. She’d finally given voice to one of the concerns that had been plaguing her since their first encounter.

Dru smiled, obviously unperturbed by her query.

“I did tell you who I am. I said I’m Dru Davis, a regular guy who works behind the scenes. That’s who I am.”

“Oh yeah, that certainly covers what you do,” Raven replied sarcastically.

“It does, really, when you think about it. As producer my job is to balance and coordinate the business and financial aspects of the show. I take the playwright and the director’s visions and make sure they have what they need to make it happen. On opening night, it’s you guys who the public sees, for better or for worse, not me. Isn’t that right?”

“I suppose,” Raven agreed slowly.

“Besides, what I do is a very different question from who I am, wouldn’t you agree?”

Raven couldn’t respond because at that moment, Dru’s sugary sweet smile was causing the air around her to grow thin.

“Now, enough about me. What about you?” he asked at length.

“What about me? I’m exactly what you thought I was…a performer. I sing, act and, mostly, dance. On this particular production, I’m a member of the ensemble. Nothing glamorous, just part of the cast.”

“I’d have to disagree there, Ms. Walker, and I’m sure the audience will, too. You’re pretty glamorous, if you don’t mind my saying.”

Raven blushed. She was grateful at that moment for the waitress’s interruption as she placed tall glasses of sweetened iced tea in front of them.

“You certainly have a way with words, don’t you, Mr. Producer?” she asked after taking a long drag from her drink.

“I just call them like I see them,” he shot back. “Now, you were about to tell me about yourself.”

“I just did, unless there’s something specific you’re asking me?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Dru asked.

Dru Davis had never been a man who minced words. He’d learned from his father early on that in both business and in play, there was no time to be wasted on innuendo and speculation. He’d wanted to ask that question from the moment he’d run into Raven the day before, as she had stayed on his mind ever since. Assessing her availability was a vital first step in answering the burning desire she’d lit in him when she’d first graced the Minskoff with her presence during auditions. If she answered in the affirmative, he doubted that he would be dissuaded. However, at least he’d know what he was up against.

“Okay, wasn’t quite prepared for that one, but no, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Are you looking for one?” he countered.

Raven was not used to this type of blunt forwardness from a man. While she had not had very much experience in the dating realm, she had yet to encounter anyone like Dru Davis.

“What exactly constitutes looking for a boyfriend?” she replied.

“I don’t know…I’ve never looked for one myself,” Dru answered with a playful chuckle that caused the solitary crater in his cheek to deepen.

Raven laughed with him. In spite of herself, she was feeling spellbound by Dru’s humor and charisma.

“Did I tell you that I think you’re beautiful, Ms. Walker?”

“No, I don’t believe you did, but thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So what do you say? I’d like to take you out sometime, you know, like on a date or something.”

“You just did,” she answered coyly.

“Oh, you’re right. Well, let me rephrase. I’d like to take you out again, sometime.”

“Look, Dru, I’m not sure that’s a very good idea. I mean, aren’t you sort of my boss?”

Raven felt as though the brakes needed to be pumped on this whole thing, whether she wanted it to stop or not.

“Nope. I have absolutely nothing to do with casting. That’s Marvin’s job.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts. I’d like to see you again Raven, outside of the theater. Are you trying to make me beg?”

“Not at all, but can I ask you one question?”

“Sure, anything.”

“Why do you want to go out with me? You don’t even know me. Is it because you think I’m beautiful?”

Raven was not so naïve that she didn’t recognize that physical attractiveness was part of what made the world go around. People who operated solely under the shallowness of physical beauty, however, were a turn off to her, and she avoided guys like that with a vengeance.

Dru’s eyes settled on hers, a moment of silence passing between them that was both solemn and sweet.

“I’d like to take you out because watching you dance made me feel like I’d just received God’s favor. I want to get to know the woman who could move me so deeply,” he said softly.

The quickening of her heartbeat, pounding erratically in her chest, was the only thing Raven could feel for a few moments. She didn’t trust her voice, so she simply smiled, trying on his compliment for a while, wrapping it around her and allowing it to warm her soul.

Chapter 5

Dreams are for Dreamers

“You are absolutely not wearing that,” Carley snapped, snatching the sleeveless black cotton turtleneck from Raven’s hands, balling it up and chucking it back into the closet. Carley, who had about three solid inches on Raven, dared her to reach for it again.

“Carley!”

“Come on, Raven, stop acting like some middle-aged Mormon. You’ve got to have something sexy in this closet of yours.”

Carley gently pushed Raven aside and moved into the closet herself. She scanned the contents of the closet with apparent disapproval.

“Okay, I thought you wore sweats every day so that you could change quickly for dance classes. I had no idea that that was all you owned!”

“Well, Carley…everyone’s not a clothes whore like you!” Raven said defensively.

“That’s true, but this is ridiculous. All right, let’s see what magic I can create up in here.”

Raven moved away from the closet and plopped down onto the foot of her bed. For the past two days Raven had reconsidered her date with Dru countless times. Every time she convinced herself that dating someone so closely tied to her professional obligations was not a good idea, she’d pick up her cell phone and find his name in the contacts folder. However, before she could depress the send button, an image of his face, his disarming smile and sparkling eyes would assault her memory and a warm flush would course through her body. Logic lost the battle every time as the physical and emotional urge to get to know him outweighed all reason.

“I should just cancel. I mean, I don’t even have anything to wear and besides, I should be spending all of my time practicing for the show,” Raven said.

Carley shot her a searing look from over her shoulder. She snatched a peach-colored vest from the closet.

“This will work,” she said, ignoring Raven’s comment. “Don’t you have a white skirt? You know the one you wore to Jackie’s party last month?”

“Carley, did you hear what I just said?” Raven asked.

“Yeah, I heard you. Where’s the skirt?”

Raven retrieved the skirt from a shelf at the top of the closet and tossed it to Carley.

“Raven, please knock it off. I know exactly what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. There is not one good reason why you shouldn’t go out with this guy…not one.”

“Are you sure?” Raven asked, wanting desperately to cast her misgivings aside and believe in Carley’s optimism.

“I’m positive. He’s cute, he’s available, he’s successful and he’s totally hot for you. Everything else is trivial. Now, get dressed,” Carley said, thrusting various articles of clothing into Raven’s hands.

Raven gave up. Under Carley’s dogged determination to get her hooked up, she didn’t stand a chance. And in addition to that was the fact that Dru’s sexy singular dimple was permanently recorded on her brain.

“You look beautiful,” Dru said, momentarily forgetting himself. “Oops, I’m sorry. I forgot that I’m not supposed to tell you that.” He smiled.

Raven laughed.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t tell me that I’m beautiful. All I meant was that it shouldn’t be the motivating factor for everything one does in life,” she corrected.

Dru was wearing a crisp white cotton shirt, the top two buttons open to reveal a solid brown neck and a hint of jet-black hair on his chest. Raven’s eyes traveled down the length of his body. His shirt was tucked into black slacks. On his feet were black loafers, punctuating his overall sophisticated casual appearance. Dru took her hand in his, guiding her to a seat at the small table for two. As he leaned closer to her, she inhaled his signature scent and was immediately intoxicated.

“So how have rehearsals been going?” Dru asked.

“All right. I have to say, working with the ensemble is nothing like what I thought it would be. I mean, we’ve got a lot of onstage time and the numbers Meagan’s worked up for us are hot!” Raven exclaimed.

“That’s good. Everything is on schedule from the business end, but I’ve got to admit, it’s been back to back meetings and marathon telephone conferences getting things in order.”

“I’m sure you’re used to this…after all, your dad has been in the business for ages.”

“True. I was practically nursed on Broadway shows. However, and this is just between you and I,” Dru said, pausing to shift his eyes to the right and left and then leaning in conspiratorially. “This is the biggest production I’ve ever headed up on my own.”

Raven regarded him, uncertain as to whether he was being serious or not. In the short time she’d known him, she realized two things about the man. First, his was a sense of humor that was off-color and unpredictable. Second, he was very generous with it.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” she asked skeptically.

“I don’t know…between juggling the investors and negotiating with the unions, I’ve got my hands full.”

Dru’s expression was one of sheer panic, as if he had just now fully considered the weight of the task in front of him. Raven began to feel a deep sympathy for him, until the look of vulnerability in his eyes gave way to mischievous mocking.

“Oh, please!” she said, slapping at one of his hands which lay on the table between them.

She silently chided herself for being so foolishly taken in by his pretense. Dru’s laughter bubbled from his gut, tumbling from his full lips. He tipped his head backward as he laughed with his mouth opened wide.

“Here I am feeling sorry for you, and you’re making fun of me all the while.” Raven pouted.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t help it.”

Dru reached across the table and closed his long fingers around her hand. He resisted the compelling urge to kiss her pretty little frown.

“It’s cute that you were worried about me,” he said.

“Puppies are cute,” she snapped.

Dru rubbed his forefinger lightly over the knuckles of Raven’s hand, his intense gaze resting on her eyes. There was a powerful concentration in his look that drew her in and held her captive. It was as if he had connected with someplace deep inside her soul and they were now locked together in a warm cocoon.

“So, Miss Raven, tell me something about yourself that I don’t already know.”

“Well, I really don’t know what to say, Mr. Davis. You seem to know everything.”

“No, not everything. Not the things I want to know about you.”

The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver through Raven’s body. She looked away from his gaze, but only for a moment before her eyes were forcefully pulled back to his by a concentrated magnetism.

“What makes you smile?” he asked.

Raven didn’t have to think about that question. There was only one answer that came to mind.

“Dancing,” she said breathlessly.

“Is that all?” Dru asked, marveling at the glow that had descended on Raven’s face.

“Dancing is everything to me. Performing in general, I guess. It’s…I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s like, no matter what else is going on around me, when I’m dancing…when I’m up on stage, it just doesn’t matter. It’s like I’m removed from everything in the world and my body is sugary sweet and singing…notes that carry me away. It’s heavenly.”

Raven studied Dru’s face, trying to determine if he understood what she was trying to explain to him.

“That must be an amazing feeling. To have something in your life that can make you feel so close to yourself…so close to God.”

“I usually don’t tell people that. I don’t think most people understand what I mean. They think I’m blaspheming or something.” Raven chuckled.

“You make perfect sense to me,” Dru said.

They looked silently at one another for a moment and Raven knew that he was telling the truth. He did understand her.

“Is there something in your life that gives you that same feeling? I mean, something you’re passionate about?” she asked.

Dru didn’t answer right away. He was uncertain how much of himself he was ready to reveal to her so soon. Yet, somehow he knew that he had no reason to fear exposing himself to her. Instinctively, he trusted her.

“The other morning…when you came into the studio before rehearsals and started to dance—”

“Yeah, what about it?” she asked quizzically.

“Well, I was sitting there, just thinking. All my life, I’ve watched my father in this business and, like I said, I was raised on the entertainment industry. While other kids were out practicing their Michael Jordan dunks or skateboarding, I was watching tapes of musical theater productions and studying contracts. I never had to answer the question of what I would like to be when I grew up…it was always a given.”

Dru looked away from Raven, his eyes staring off into the distance for a minute. When he returned his gaze, there was a deeper fire evident in his look.

“Watching you dance, so beautiful and so graceful…the way your body moved across the stage so effortlessly. I felt your radiance all the way back where I was sitting. If I could feel so much peace just from watching you, I can only imagine what you felt doing it.”

“It feels like I’m flying sometimes,” Raven said.

“See, that’s just what I’m talking about. I can’t imagine what that’s like. That ability you have to create beauty through your motions is a gift, you know,” he said.

“Yes, I know it is. I worked hard to get to the level I’m at right now, but I think that even if I never land another dancing job, I truly do feel blessed to just be able to dance.”

Dru leaned back in his chair suddenly overcome by the heaviness of their conversation.

“Creative people don’t always know how special they are. Sometimes they take their creativity for granted, you know. They don’t realize that there are so many people in the world who wish they could do what they do.”

“Are you one of those people?” Raven asked.

Their hands had remained connected the entire time they talked, Dru’s fingers laying lightly on top of hers. Now, Raven turned her hand over and closed her digits around Dru’s. He smiled slightly.

“Real talk?” he asked.

“Real talk,” she answered.

“Every time I read a story or a script for a stage play, I have these visions. I actually see the story laid out with characters, sets and everything.”

“So you’d like to what, write…direct for stage?”

“Maybe. Maybe even do both. And movies, too. I have all of these ideas for stories floating around in my brain. I can’t read a book without visualizing it on the big screen.”

“So why don’t you do it?”

“Nah, that’s not part of the plan. I’ve got an MBA and I develop and balance budgets. Period. Recently, my dad’s been giving me more and more responsibilities at Davis Theater Initiatives and my plate is pretty full. He expects me to take over where he leaves off one day.”

“But are you fulfilled?” Raven wanted to know.

“It’s an amazing job. What we do is handle the money for Broadway productions. My dad has always believed that playwrights and artists are a dime a dozen. They come and go, but the producers are what make it all possible. Besides, I enjoy producing. Don’t get me wrong, I do love being the glue that pulls a production all together. It’s rewarding work.”

“But it doesn’t speak to your creative side at all,” Raven pushed.

“No, but it’s enough,” Dru said in a tone that sounded as if he were trying to convince himself and her at the same time.

Raven considered Dru’s statement skeptically. She opened her mouth to say something else, but realized that it was not her place to second-guess him. By the time their meals arrived, the conversation had taken a much lighter tone. They laughed and joked about everything from music to fashion to nicknames.

“Pooh? You actually went into high school with people still calling you Pooh? Oh, my God. How’d you get any girls to take you seriously?” Raven laughed.

“Oh, you’ve got jokes. I’ll have you know, I did pretty well in the dating department. Never had any trouble at all.”

“Yeah, okay. Tell me anything.” Raven smirked.

“All right, well, what about you? What was your teenage love life like?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Were your Friday and Saturday nights booked or were you one of those girls who sat home popping popcorn and watching the late, late movie? Rollers in your hair and pimple cream all over your face?”

It was Dru’s turn to tease. Raven rolled her eyes.

“Uh-oh, looks like I hit a sore spot.”

“No, not even,” she insisted. “Look, in high school I was too busy to even think about boys. I took my studies seriously. And dance has always been a full-time commitment. You know how you guys are…selfish, demanding. Not able to understand why your girl would prefer studying or working on her pirouettes instead of going with you to the big game on Friday night. I just didn’t have the energy to deal with all that.”

Dru considered Raven’s admission for a moment, realizing that she was right to a large extent. Except for one thing.

“If I had met a girl like you in high school, one who was so talented and driven, I would have carried your ballet shoes to class, served as your dance bar and held your textbooks open while you read.”

A smile spread quickly across Raven’s face and she was about to hit Dru with a smart-aleck response. However, her tongue stalled as she looked into his eyes and realized that he was not trying to be funny. The sincerity of his words was unmistakable as she gazed at his bright eyes and unsmiling face.

“I wish I’d met a boy like you in high school,” she said at last.

Dru squeezed her hand warmly.

“Well, you’ve met me now…well, except that I’m a grown man.”

“And I’m a grown woman,” Raven countered.

At the door to the Harlem brownstone where Raven lived with her parents, Dru found it difficult to say good-night.

“So, when can we do this again?” he asked, taking Raven’s hands in his.

“Why?”

“Why? What kind of question is that? Because I had a good time. Didn’t you?” Dru’s eyes were wrought with confusion.

Raven snickered.

“What? What’s wrong? Is it my breath?” Dru asked, cupping his hand in front of his face and blowing hard. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he commanded.

“Relax,” Raven said, trying to gain control over herself and stop laughing. “Dang, you’re sensitive.”

“Oh, so you’ve got jokes. All right, I see what I’m dealing with here. Come here,” he said, pulling her closer to him.

“I enjoyed spending time with you tonight,” he said, this time he stared deeply into Raven’s eyes. “Did you enjoy me as well?”

“Yes. Everything was perfect,” Raven answered softly.

“May I kiss you?” Dru asked.

“Yes.”

With his eyes open, Dru moved slowly, dipping his head toward Raven’s. When his lips met hers, he closed his eyes, succumbing to the colorful sensation of their first kiss. The flutter of a million butterflies rattled his rib cage as he drank her in. Their lips locked and tongues danced for endless minutes as they explored one another like harbingers discovering new territory.

When they parted, Raven kept her eyes closed for a moment, until the woozy feelings that threatened to overcome her subsided. When she opened them, her gaze met his, and she was lost in a smoldering heat that made the balmy summer evening pale in comparison.

“I’ll call you,” Dru said.

Raven nodded her head, words having momentarily escaped her. She watched Dru walk down the steps and to his black Infiniti sedan. From the curb, he turned and gave her that dazzling smile she’d already begun to cherish.

Chapter 6

Opening Night

Raven lit the lemongrass-scented aromatherapy candles one at a time until flames flickered from all five. Seated on the soft carpet of her bedroom floor, she relaxed her arms, laid the backs of her hands on the floor beside her with her palms facing upward. Her long, shapely legs were crossed beneath her. She stared at the candles, fixating her eyes on the light of the flames. She took a deep cleansing breath, allowing the air to move into her lungs, filling them to capacity before she released it. Repeating the motions over and over again, Raven felt the tension easing from her pores and every orifice, seeping from her taut body.

Raven’s mother, Lorraine, had introduced her to meditation when Raven was a freshman in high school. At first, Raven had only participated halfheartedly, humoring what she believed to be another of the momentary fads that Lorraine tried out every so often. However, long after her mother had moved on to praying Pilates classes, Raven began to appreciate the moments of reflection and calm that meditation provided. Now, it was an almost daily ritual that she looked forward to. Whenever she found herself off-centered or stressed out, she returned to the serenity that could be found in her bedroom, with the lights off and candles lit. Meditation allowed her to tap into the inner strength of her soul. Tonight, she needed to draw on everything she had within and then some.

Opening night of The Salon had come faster than Raven had anticipated. Two months of daily rehearsals, script changes and group theater exercises had passed by in a blur of excited activity. For Raven, the past two months had been nonstop thrills, and like a seven-year-old on her first trip to Disney World, she was filled with wide-eyed wonder. While the opportunity to be a part of a major Broadway musical and learn from professionals like Marvin Barkley and her cast members was a once in a lifetime experience, Raven acknowledged that Dru also had a lot to do with the fantasy she was living.

Dru had become an unexpected addition to her daily routine. On the days that his work prevented him from being at the theater watching rehearsals or meeting with Barkley, he would call her in the morning when he knew that she would be up, either stretching or drinking fruit-and-wheat-bran smoothies. In the evenings, he would pick her up for dinner or coffee, or sometimes he would stop by with a pint of ice cream and a new release from Blockbuster or Netflix tucked beneath his arm.

There were, of course, the sideways glances and the passing comments from her colleagues at The Salon that she’d feared. However, she quickly realized that like Carley had predicted, those things were trivial in the wake of her growing affection for Dru. One day, shortly before a dress rehearsal, a few of the female cast members were in the dressing room putting the finishing touches to their makeup and costumes and gossiping as usual.

“You know, Raven, I hear Dru’s got a bit of a reputation among the ladies,” a tall blonde named Jenna said.

Raven looked up from the tape she’d been applying to the three bruised toes on her left foot.

“You don’t say?” she answered impassively.

“Yeah, I mean, he has dated some of the hottest women around,” Jenna’s sidekick, Stacy, added.

“And, while I don’t know personally how true it is, I heard that he’s really got it going on, if you know what I mean. Keeps the ladies coming back for more.” Jenna smirked, giving high fives to the women nearest her.

“Ladies, have you ever heard the expression that a little tact goes a long way?” Yasmine asked, rolling her eyes at Jenna.

“That’s okay, Yasmine. I’m sure Dru would be happy to know that some of the cast of the show he’s keeping funded think so highly of him. I’ll be sure to tell him,” Raven said.

She adjusted the red sequined cap on top of her head, rose and strode out of the room. She gave Yasmine a quick smile, recognizing that at least she had one ally, and headed backstage. She wasn’t about to give those women the satisfaction of thinking they’d gotten to her and she certainly wasn’t about to let them distract her from lighting up the stage. As time wore on, they all seemed to find more interesting people to talk about. Raven was careful not to flaunt her relationship around the theater, but she also did not go out of her way to hide it. Her parents had always told her that it didn’t really matter what you did or didn’t do because people will always find a reason to talk about you anyway. The situation gave her an opportunity to weed out the individuals amongst the cast from whom she needed to keep her distance and discover healthy relationships with genuine friends.

The day she’d introduced Dru to her parents had been unplanned and interesting to say the least. They’d been dating for about five weeks and her mother had already begun commenting that Raven possessed a certain glow that she doubted was coming from the vegetables and fruit shakes she’d been consuming. That evening, Raven had told her parents that she was going out for the evening and had gone down to the front steps of the brownstone to meet him. When he pulled up and parked the car, he’d gotten out, pressed the button on his remote to lock the car and approached the steps.

“What’s up?” she’d asked.

He’d leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“Are your parents at home?” he’d asked.

“Uh…yeah.” She’d hesitated. “Why?”

“I’d like to meet them,” he said as he began walking up the stairs.

“Whoa…hold up a minute. Where’d this come from?” Raven asked, stepping up two stairs to face him.

“Well, I was thinking on the way over here that we’ve been seeing each other for a while now and—”

“Four weeks,” she interrupted him.

“Six.”

“Five.”

“Okay, whatever. Point is, your parents will be moving soon—”

“Next month. And?”

“And, I don’t want them heading out of town having the wrong impression of me. I wouldn’t want them thinking that I’m just some guy trying to seduce their daughter or something.”

“Oh, really, is that what you were thinking?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. So, I figured, why not meet them tonight?”

Dru looked so satisfied with himself that Raven could not resist having a little bit of fun.

“That’s all fine and good, Mr. Davis, but what makes you think that my parents even know you exist?” she asked.

Dru looked at her, took a step back from her, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. He glanced away from Raven and then immediately returned his gaze to her face. He moved in close to her again, closer than he had been before until his face was inches away from hers. He didn’t say a word, just held her gaze, his eyes burning into hers with an intensity that caused her breath to get caught in her throat. She lost all composure, brushed her lips back and forth across his. He didn’t budge. It was she who made the first move, seduced by his concentrated passion. She slid her tongue into his mouth, tickled his tongue, licked his teeth and sucked his juices.

“Can I meet your parents now?” he asked breathlessly.

He’d called her bluff, which wasn’t difficult to do. Dru knew how much Raven had come to mean to him in the short time he’d known her, and his ego would not allow him to believe for one second that he didn’t mean the same thing to her. He’d told his mother about her, his father and a few close friends. They’d all told him to slow down, assuring him that it was too soon for him to be all sprung over some chick. His boys were insistent that there was no way for him to tell how much he dug her until he’d gotten into her pants. However, he knew that Raven was not just some chick to be seduced. He’d never felt an ounce of what he was feeling for another woman, and he was smart enough to know that her greatest treasures could not be found between her legs.

“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Dru Davis. Dru, these are my parents, Lorraine and Allen Walker.”

“How do you do, sir?” Dru said, shaking her father’s hand. “Mrs. Walker,” he said, turning to her mother.

They ended up not going out that night. Instead, they sat in the living room eating the tossed salad and leftover baked chicken Lorraine had whipped up. They polished it off with some rum cake and herbal tea. Dru and Allen talked incessantly about basketball, football and any other sport that had the word ball attached to it. Dru reached over every so often, in between heated discourse about Kobe Bryant’s jumper and LeBron James’s hops to touch Raven’s hand or knee, or to nudge her gently with his elbow or smile at her. Two hours went by before Lorraine began to yawn and drag her husband to his feet.

“We’re going to bed now. We’re not as young as you two, and we’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. Dru, it was very nice to meet you at last. Raven’s told us so much about you, but it was nice to get to know you for ourselves,” Lorraine said as she kissed Dru on the cheek.

“Mrs. Walker, I really enjoyed tonight and that cake was amazing.” Dru smiled, the corners of his mouth turned up as far as they could go in that sexy way of his.

“Make sure Raven slices you a few pieces to take with you when you leave. Come on, honey,” she said.

“I’m coming, woman. Young man, drive carefully out there. And remember what I said about that History Channel documentary coming up next month. It’s going to be a good one,” Allen said, giving Dru a firm handshake and a hearty slap on the back.

Raven watched her parents retire to their bedroom at the back of the apartment, shutting the door behind them. She plopped down on the smaller of the two sofas and Dru joined her.

“That was nice,” she said.

“Mmm-hmm. Your parents are cool. So, how about you fill me in on all the stuff you told them about me,” Dru teased.

“Oh, quit it, you. You win. Yes, I’ve talked about you to my parents…a little bit. No big deal,” Raven snapped.

“No big deal, huh? Come here.”

Raven shook her head. “No.”

“Come here,” he said again.

Raven followed Dru’s command, leaning close to him.

“You think you’ve got me right where you want me, don’t you?” she said softly against his mouth.

“No. I hope I’ve got you,” he answered before closing his full lips over hers.

He had her all right, and there was no way that she could deny it. Between Dru and the show, Raven had begun to feel like she had all that she needed and more. Almost. Despite the fact that things in her life were good, really, really good, there was still the gnawing little questions at the back of her mind, tugging at her and keeping from being entirely free to enjoy all that was happening. The little voice that screamed Who am I? over and over again would not be silenced. She’d fought to block it out, fought to keep those feelings of curiosity at bay. She’d focused her energy on the show and on Dru, telling herself that right now, nothing else mattered.

Raven opened her eyes slowly, allowing the room to come into focus. Opening-night jitters were gone, and in their place was a feeling of supreme confidence. She would do her thing tonight and every night that the show ran. She would show the directors, the audience and her fellow cast members that she was a star. She would shine brighter than the Big Dipper and light the whole world with her brilliance. As she rose from the carpet, her cell phone began to ring, its sound causing a smile to spread across Raven’s already beaming face. Without looking at the phone’s display, she flipped it open.

“Hey there, Mr. Producer. Are you all set for Broadway?”

“Indeed I am, baby. How about you?”

“I couldn’t be more ready.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come and pick you up?”

“Yes, Dru, I’m sure. You’ve got things to do. Right now, I want you to concentrate on being the producer, running things and all that jazz. Okay?”

“I hear you. I’m trying to stay focused, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t wait to see you up on that stage, under the lights. All those people are going to be watching you and enjoying you just as much as I do,” he said.

“Boy, are you trying to make me nervous?” Raven asked.

“Nah, baby. Don’t worry, you’re going to be great. Your parents have the tickets I sent them, right? Do they need a ride?”

Raven giggled at the apparent nervousness in his voice.

“Dru, baby, relax. Nobody needs a ride, and everything is on schedule. Your dad is going to love the show and he’s going to be so proud to see his son’s business skills at play. Promise,” Raven said, reassuring him.

They chatted for a while longer before a call came in on Dru’s line. Raven sent a sweet kiss through the phone to him before hanging up. A short while later she headed out the door, wanting to get to the theater early to stretch and practice. Because all she could feel was excitement and adrenaline pumping throughout her body, she had to remind herself to eat, stay hydrated and use the restroom for the remainder of the day.

That night, the show opened and received a standing ovation. Raven poured her heart out into every number, and the sound of the audience’s applause told her that it was all worth it. After the cast had taken its final bows and the curtain had come down for the last time, Raven ran from the stage and straight into the waiting arms of Dru. She held his face in her hands for a moment, seeing reflected in his eyes everything that she was feeling.

“I told you it was going to be great,” she said.

“No, you were great,” he answered before kissing her.

She met the elder Davis before he left the theater. He had an early flight to L.A. to catch the next morning. Like father, like son was all she could think as she stood around backstage talking with Dru’s father. They had the same laugh and the same sense of humor. After saying good-night, Dru and Raven had dinner with her folks at a small restaurant uptown. Afterward, Dru asked her to come back to his place and she nodded, settling against his shoulder as he drove. They were quiet during the short ride, each lost in their own thoughts and basking in the glow of the fabulous night they’d just experienced.

Dru showed Raven around his neat and spacious duplex in Westchester. It was very masculine, with a mixture of solid patterns and neutral and dark colors throughout. It was a two-bedroom home, with the larger of the bedrooms serving as an office and gym. Dru poured a couple of glasses of merlot and they settled on his leather sofa, listening to music and talking.

“Can I ask you a question without you getting upset with me?” Dru asked.

“Of course you can. How can I get upset with you for asking a question?”

“I guess it would depend on the question,” he said. “All right, here goes, and you can feel free to tell me to mind my business.”

“Fair enough,” Raven said.

“And I don’t want you to think I’m insinuating anything or trying to—”

“Dru, would you just ask the freaking question already?” Raven said impatiently.

Dru chuckled at his silliness.

“Okay. Are you a virgin?”

His face brightened with embarrassment even as he asked the question. He’d already come to his own conclusion, but he didn’t want to go solely on what he believed. Doing so could lead him to end up looking foolish.

“Why are you asking me that?”

“Well, because, I mean, we’ve talked about our pasts and you’ve basically told me that you haven’t dated much and, well…I don’t want to assume, but…”

Dru realized that he was doing a whole lot of talking without saying much of anything that made any sense whatsoever. He took Raven’s glass from her hand and sat it down on the coffee table in front of them. He moved closer to her, turning his body so that he faced her completely.

“Raven, I really like you. A lot. Like…like I wake up thinking about you, and I go to sleep thinking about you. I love talking to you and laughing with you. Hanging out with you, anywhere, is what I look forward to every day.”

“But?”

“But, nothing. That’s just it. I mean, other women…by now, I would be trying to get some.”

“But not with me? Wow,” Raven said, suddenly feeling let down by where this conversation was headed.

She turned away from him.

“No, no, wait,” he said, placing his thumb and forefinger on either side of her jaw and turning her face back toward his.

“Look, this is not coming out right. What I’m trying to say is that with other women, by now, if sex wasn’t part of the package, then I would have moved on. But with you, it’s different. I’m not saying that I don’t want to make love to you or that I haven’t thought about it, because that would be a bald-faced lie. Man, that would be a lie,” Dru said.

Raven blushed.

“It’s just that it’s not the only thing I think about with you. I just want to be around you. To hold your hand, to listen to you talk or to watch you dance. Like tonight. Watching you, I told myself that you were dancing just for me. It was all I could do not to run on that stage and take you in my arms right then and there,” he said.

“Dru, what if I told you that I was dancing just for you? What if I told you that I feel the same way as you do?” Raven asked.

“That would make me the happiest man in the world.”

Dru kissed her softly.

“Listen, Dru. I want you to know where I’m coming from. I really enjoy spending time with you, too. It’s just that I grew up believing that sex should be something shared with someone you love. Someone who is special and when the time is right and the people are right, with themselves and each other, it’ll happen and it’ll be beautiful. Does that change anything between us?”

“No, it doesn’t. I just wanted you to know how I feel. And I just want you to know that I won’t rush you or push you into doing anything that you’re not ready for. Okay?”

“Okay, but I do understand that you have needs.”

“Let me worry about my needs. My shower has plenty of cold water.” He laughed. “Seriously, though, I want you to know that to me, you are already someone special. And when we…if we…well, it’ll be special. I promise.”

Chapter 7

The Show Must Go On

“All right people, here’s the story. The doctors say that Parker’s stable right now, but it’ll be a while before they figure out what condition her heart is in. She’s out—indefinitely.”

A collective gasp spread around the stage. The cast had been riding high for the past couple of weeks. The show was a complete success and for many of the young cast, this was a first-time experience that defied all of their expectations. It was the stuff dreams are made of and none of them had any intentions of waking up anytime soon.

“So, here’s the thing. Marcella and Vivian, I know you’ve both been working with Parker, studying her lines and dance numbers with her. However, I’ve decided to try someone else out in lead for the next show.”

A hush fell over the cast. The performers glanced from one to another, wondering if anyone knew what was going on. Barkley was a man who bore a reputation of being a master at casting and directing. He’d been known to take apart and reassemble show casts hours before the curtain rose if he deemed it necessary, all in the name of creating the best musicals to ever play on any stage, anywhere in the world.

“Now, I don’t want anyone to get nervous or concerned. You are a marvelously talented cast…each and every one of you. I’ve watched some of you really come into your own on that stage over the past few weeks, and I’d like to think that I’ve had something to do with that. So if you’ll trust me enough, I think we’ll create some real magic here.”

The tension in the room eased ever so slightly, as each person dared to take a breath.

“Raven,” Barkley said, turning to face her.

Raven started at the sound of her name and immediately the tension returned to her body.

“Raven, I’d like to try you out in the role of Selma.”

“Me? But…but—”

“Didn’t you initially audition for that role?” Barkley said, his piercing gray eyes trained on Raven’s stunned face.

“Yes, yes I did. From the moment I heard about the part, I wanted to play Selma so badly it gave me chills just thinking about it,” Raven admitted.

She was oblivious to everyone in the room with the exception of Barkley. She could not believe that after all these weeks had passed, she could still feel not only the burning desire she’d experienced for the role of Selma, but the sting of rejection she’d felt when she hadn’t made it.

“Has that changed?” Barkley asked.

Raven shook her head, not trusting her voice to utter the word. She held her breath, scarcely daring to even consider the possibility that what was happening was actually real.

Barkley leaned closer to Raven, reaching out to take both of her hands in his. He squeezed them firmly.

“And you know the lines, don’t you?”

Raven stared into Barkley’s expectant face.

“Every word,” she admitted.

“Hello, Selma,” he said.

Raven let the air escape her lungs until she was empty of it and of all the doubt she’d been holding on to. She returned Barkley’s squeeze.

“Why, hello, Mr. Groove Man. How ’bout you and I show these lead limbs how it’s done down here?” Raven replied in a slow Southern drawl. Her Selma was right on point. The room burst into applause as Barkley pulled Raven to her feet.

“All right, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s do it,” Barkley said.

The crew assembled onstage and for the next three hours they reworked The Salon with Raven as the lead.

“He’s a very nice young man,” Lorraine said.

She pulled another piece from the china cabinet and slid it between two squares of plastic bubble wrap.

“Huh? I’m sorry, Mom, what did you say?”

Raven was distracted and had been all afternoon. It was Tuesday and she was using her day off from the show to help her mother pack for the move. The majority of her parents’ belongings would be picked up by a moving truck the following week. They would fly down to Florida with just a few suitcases. It was hard for Raven to believe that this was actually happening. But the closer the day came, she found herself wrought with conflicting emotions. She was happy that her parents were getting the chance to live out their dreams and to enjoy their retirement together in a beautiful, warm climate.

Her father had put thirty years in with the City and at sixty years old, he was still a healthy, active man. It was her father’s dream to leave the cold, crowded City of New York and spend the rest of his days fishing, swimming and wearing plaid pants and polo shirts; it was her mother’s dream to grow old with her husband, wherever he resided. Raven could just imagine the two of them having the time of their lives in the sunshine state. However, she could not help but feel abandoned at the thought of them leaving her behind. Ironically, that feeling also came with a sense of déjà vu. Even though she was far too young to remember her birth mother, she’d always carried with her a sense of being a castoff. The knowledge that she had been adopted into a loving home did not erase the conflicting understanding of the fact that she had been discarded by her biological parents.

For a fleeting moment, Raven considered making the move with them. As quickly as that thought entered her mind, she dismissed it. Even if she were serious about moving to Florida, there was no way her parents would allow it. They knew how much a career in dance meant to her and New York City was the best place to launch that career. Raven comforted herself with the knowledge that they’d already promised to keep a room ready for her whenever she wanted to visit.

“I was just saying that I think Dru Davis is a very nice young man. He’s well-mannered…just an extremely likeable person. Is he treating you well?”

“Yes, Mom…he is. Dru’s great.”

“He’s a couple of years older than you, isn’t he?”

“Four. But trust me, he acts like a big kid sometimes,” Raven said, amused.

“But your father says he’s a smart businessman, working with his dad. Seems like he’s got a great career and future ahead of him.”

“Yeah, he knows a lot about show business. I’m learning from him, but sometimes I’ve got to reign him back in. The other day he was hinting at me doing some studio work. Telling me about some music producers he knows—”

“Studio work?” Lorraine asked, confusion ringing clear in her voice.

“Yeah, like cutting an album or a demo or whatever. I don’t know.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told him that I was absolutely not interested in become a pop singer. I mean, come on now, Mom. I’ve got a great voice for what I do, but I am not the next Beyoncé. And I have no desire to do that.”

“Sounds like Dru thinks differently.”

“Dru’s just like this bundle of ideas and energy. No sooner than he’s doing one thing is he thinking about the next thing. We’re at a movie and he’s thinking about dinner afterward. We’re eating dinner and he’s scheming on—”

“Your dessert!” Lorraine chimed.

“Mom!” Raven said, smacking her mother’s thigh playfully as both women laughed.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re having a good time, sweetheart. You’ve always been so serious…so focused. Not that that’s a bad thing. But with your father and I headed down to Florida, it’s comforting to know that you’ve got someone in your life who brings a smile to your face.”

“Oh, please, Mom. You and Dad will be so busy surfing and skinny-dipping, you won’t even be worrying about me,” Raven joked.

“I don’t know about all that.” Lorraine laughed, swatting Raven with a roll of plastic. “You just remember, if you need anything, anything at all, you pick up that phone and call us. You hear?”

“Yes, Mom. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Raven leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek. They continued their work in silence for a few moments, Raven wrestling with her thoughts. Finally, she allowed the question that had been plaguing her for weeks to come to the surface.

“Mom, what can you tell me about…about her.”

Her voice was slightly above a whisper. Raven averted her mother’s gaze, choosing instead to focus on the crystal glass she held in her hands. The room was silent, even the rustle of plastic wrap ceased as her mother looked up toward the ceiling, down at her hands, everywhere but at Raven. Long minutes passed in which the years of unspoken truths were crushed together until they disintegrated.

“Raven, where is this coming from? Why are you asking this now?”

“I’ve wanted to ask for a long time. I just didn’t know how you’d react,” Raven admitted.

Lorraine rose from her perch on the top of the stepladder she’d been sitting on. Raven, who was seated on the hardwood floor, looked up at last as her mother came to rest beside her.

“After all these years…I just thought that you would never ask. I guess I just hoped you wouldn’t.”

Lorraine’s voice was strained, as was her facial expression. Raven looked at her mother, noticing the fine lines that had creased themselves into the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. At fifty-nine, Lorraine had aged well. Like her husband, she was healthy and in very good shape. In fact, it was only during moments of stress that she looked a day over forty-five. Raven hated being the cause of any strain or anxiety, but she could not help her desire to know about her past.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Lately, I’ve just been filled with so many questions. I feel like…like I’m missing something…like I’m incomplete. I just want to get some answers, so that I can move on with my life.”

Lorraine sighed heavily. She reached out and picked up Raven’s hand, holding it in both of hers.

“You have beautiful hands,” she said. “Graceful, dainty hands. When you were a very little girl, you always wanted me to paint your fingernails. You’d come into my bedroom, stick both of your fat little hands in my face, wiggling those chubby fingers and say, ‘May I have some colors, Mama?’ And you would sit there, still as a statue while I painted your nails. Then you would blow on them until your puffy little cheeks ached.”

Raven held her breath now, waiting, anticipating what she was about to hear. She didn’t say anything, understanding that her mother needed to tell things in her own way and at her own pace.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt, Raven.”

“Mom, I’m a big girl. You don’t have to worry about me,” Raven said.

“I know you’re a big girl now. Shoot, I’ve been watching you grow for the past twenty years,” Lorraine said, sighing again.

“By the time you came into our lives, I’d begun to think that I’d never get to be somebody’s Mama. I was quickly approaching forty and we had been trying for so long…”

Lorraine patted Raven’s thigh.

“All right, I’ll tell you everything I know,” she said at last. “It’s not much…but I guess you have a right to know.”

Lorraine paused again. She had been backed into a corner, blindsided by a day that she should have known would come eventually. She and Allen had talked about this early on, when Raven was younger. As the years went by, they convinced themselves that she was satisfied with the little bit they had told her as a child. She was their child, plain and simple, and nothing before that mattered. They’d believed that and up until this moment, Lorraine had had no reason to think that would ever change.

“Your father and I didn’t come to the decision to adopt very easily. I mean, we both loved children, and when it didn’t happen for us, well…let’s just say that adoption is a scary undertaking.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, in life, there are no guarantees. You can be blessed with children or not. You can lose your children in a heartbeat to illness, accidents…crazy people. But with adoption, there’s an even greater risk. The big B—birth parents. We were afraid that we’d grow to love our child and then poof, one day…”

“Mom, I’m not going anywhere. You and Daddy are everything to me…No one could ever get in the way of that. I just—” Raven sighed.

There was an uncomfortable silence that hung in the air like a cloud waiting to burst. She hated causing her mother any uneasiness, but at the same time she needed to do something to quiet her own anxiety.

“Your mother’s name is Monica Calloway. You lived with her somewhere in the Bronx until you were two years old. Along with a few sheets from the adoption center and your birth certificate, that’s all the information on your mother that we have. She terminated her rights, and we never had any contact with her.”

“And that’s all you know?”

“That’s it, Raven. I never needed to know anything more. You were a healthy, happy little baby, and from the moment your father and I met you, you were ours. That’s it,” Lorraine said, her voice trembling beneath her words.

“Thank you, Mom. Thanks,” Raven said.

She squeezed her mother’s hands.

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