Gotta Get Next To You (3 page)

“I was out of line, okay? I’m sorry.” His
baritone voice was soft.

His apology and the hint of tenderness in his
deep voice were like fuel to an already smoldering flame. Andrea
gazed up at him. “I owe you an apology, too. Here you help me out
and I jump on you with both feet.”

He smiled at her warmly. “Now that we’ve said
our pardons, maybe you could tell me your name.”

The tingle of desire was pleasurable, and
terrifying. She stuck out her hand in a businesslike gesture in an
attempt to keep their meeting from becoming too personal.

“Andrea Noble. I’m the new director
here.”

He shook her hand. “Glad to meet you. I hear
they’ve got plans to fix the place up.”

Andrea liked the firm pressure of his
handshake. She pulled her hand away quickly, but the warmth of his
hand lingered on the soft skin of her palm. She took a deep breath
and steadied herself.

“Ahem. Yes, we certainly do,” she said.

“Think it could use the improvement.”

“The clinic and downtown, too.” Andrea
nodded. “Lots of shady characters hanging around.”

“Hmm.”

The man’s gaze drifted around again, scanning
every inch of the place. He sauntered off and looked down the hall
toward the back of the clinic. Andrea’s wariness kicked in. Her
reaction to his good looks had temporarily blinded her. Something
that had led her to ruin before, she thought sourly. Now she really
looked at this man. He seemed to be sizing up his surroundings.
Andrea thought about the drugs stored in the small clinic pharmacy.
She noted every detail of his appearance, in case she had to pick
him out of a lineup.

“I didn’t get your name,” she said.

“Jamal Turner.” He spun around and strode to
her. “Pleased to meet you.”

Andrea fought off the sudden spike of desire
when that tall, fine frame loomed over her again. “Mr. Turner.”

“Call me Jamal. And I’ll call you—”

“Ms. Noble,” Andrea cut in. She moved farther
from him to avoid more tingling than she needed. “Well, Mr. Turner,
what brings you downtown at this hour?”

He smiled at her formality. “Went to pick up
my dry cleaning and got there five minutes too late,” he said
smoothly.

Too smoothly, Andrea thought. “Mr. Peters has
closed his store at four on Fridays for twenty years. You must not
be from around here.”

“Actually I am new to the area. But I’m
learning fast.” His dazzling smile came back, all charm and sex
appeal.

This time Andrea was ready for him and his
dimple. His explanation had holes in it, smooth or not. “What were
you doing on this street? Clotier’s is two blocks around the
comer.”

“I was at the bank and decided to just walk
over. Wouldn’t make sense to drive such a short distance. Good
legs.” Jamal slapped his thighs.

Andrea’s gaze settled on the well-developed
limbs in question. Her gaze drifted a little higher, and then she
blushed and turned away. Her knees felt shaky. So this was what the
phrase “temporary insanity” meant. She had to get control of
herself.

“Thighs—I mean, thanks for helping me.”
Andrea wanted to sink into the floor. She prayed he hadn’t heard
the slip. Good God, she was behaving like a sex-starved idiot!

“No problem,” he said in a cheerful voice.
“Next time you decide to stroll in a high-crime area, I’m your
man.”

Andrea whirled around to set him straight
with a sour reply. “Very funny Mr.” Her voice trailed off and she
couldn’t think of what to say. Instead of being annoyed, he was
amused; she noticed the delicious curve of his top lip.

“Cease fire,” he quipped. “Just be careful,
okay?” He tilted his handsome head to one side.

“Okay,” was all she could manage to
murmur.

“See ya, ma’am.” Jamal flipped a wave at her
and pushed through the glass door of the clinic.

Andrea stared after him, hypnotized by the
graceful, loping stride of impossibly long legs covered by dark
blue denim. Despite his size, his body flowed like liquid.

“We lockin’ up.” Shonda’s voice broke into
her rather rampant fantasies. Shonda popped her gum three times as
though to emphasize her statement.

Andrea snapped out of her daze and back to
reality. “Right. I, uh, I’m leaving now. My first full day is a
week from Monday, but I’ll drop in again for a few hours tomorrow
to check on your progress.”

“Great,” was Shonda’s sarcastic response. She
clumped over and stood at the front door, jingling the large ring
of keys impatiently.

“I look forward to it as much as you,” Andrea
replied with a tight smile. “Good-bye.”

She left and heard the click of door locks
behind her. Andrea walked the short distance to her car, keys in
her hand. When she turned for one last look at the clinic, Shonda
and Thelma Cresson stood staring at her with rancorous expressions.
She looked forward to setting those two straight.

She sighed. It was obvious she had a lot of
work ahead of her. She was living with Gran until she could find an
apartment of her own. Between clearing up the problems at the
clinic and apartment hunting, she had no time to fantasize about a
handsome player like Jamal Turner. She’d had her fill of that kind
of trouble.

Andrea needed to feel success, if only
professionally. Her marriage had ended with a bang and work in the
inner-city clinic had overwhelmed her. Here she could make a
difference. She would put her focus on the clinic, and no smiling
tower of testosterone would distract her.

Andrea and Gran walked into the municipal
building, where both the city aldermen and the school board met.
Rows of stadium-style seats faced the raised dais where city
leaders sat. One long curved table faced the audience. Atop the
table were microphones. Tonight the aldermen, along with the health
clinic’s board of directors, would hear progress reports.
Introducing her as the new director of the clinic would be part of
a report. Andrea took a deep breath to steady her nerves. More than
anything, she wanted to make a good first impression. Community
cooperation was vital, and the local leaders could help the clinic
or hurt it. She glanced at the agenda she’d been handed as they
walked in.

“At least I’m not first,” Andrea said.

“You gonna do fine, cher.” Gran pinched her
cheek. She glanced around and waved at friends. “Good turnout.”

“Then again, it would be nice to get this
over with,” Andrea said with a grimace.

“Stop worrying your nerves, girl. All those
years of school, you’re used to getting up in front of folks. Just
look at it like that.”

“This is ten times harder than grad school,”
Andrea said as she gazed around the room.

Small-town judgments could be harsh. Already,
talk of how she felt about changes needed at the clinic had caused
a stir. Andrea now remembered the part of small-town life she’d
never missed, lightning-quick word of mouth. Some on the board had
not been pleased with her candid assessment. They would be only too
happy to sabotage her efforts to bring in more funding and expand
the clinic. Bob Billings, the director leaving, worked part-time in
a transitional capacity until Andrea could come aboard. The board
had instructed him to make whatever changes he saw fit to make her
first few weeks easier. Andrea was relieved and encouraged by this
show of support. Yet dealing with the board was far less stressful
than facing what looked to be one third of Bayou Blue.

Andrea scanned the audience, her gaze
stopping at Shonda. From the venom in her eyes, Andrea could guess
what she’d heard. Thelma Cresson sat four rows behind Shonda. She
cast hostile glances at Andrea and whispered to a group of heavyset
women surrounding her. They took turns scowling at Andrea. It was
then that Andrea remembered that two of the aldermen were Thelma’s
cousins and three members of the board were friends of hers.

“I guess I shouldn’t expect a round of
applause when I stand up,” Andrea muttered quietly.

“What, baby?” Gran paused in the act of
exchanging a new recipe with a lady who lived down the road from
her.

“Nothing, nothing.” Andrea took another deep
breath.

Gran gave her arm a nudge. “Look, Cousin
Esme. Al-ways bragging ’bout her son the chiropractor. Boy ain’t
even a real doctor.”

“Gran, be nice,” Andrea mumbled close to her
ear. She smiled at the approaching woman. “Hi, Cousin Esme.”

“Hello, Esme,” Gran said. She wore a
restrained smile. “Nice crowd. Guess everybody wants to hear what’s
going on.”

Esme held her head high. Her hair was pulled
back in a bun. “Guess so. My Charles and his family said they would
be here. Of course, being in his position, he’s interested in these
things.”

“What position?” Gran raised one eyebrow.

“He’s givin’ consultation to the Health
Clinic Board, of course. He is a medical professional,” Esme said.
Gran pursed her lips. “Crackin’ bones ain’t—” “That’s wonderful,
Cousin Esme,” Andrea said loudly, drowning out Gran. “So Charles is
doing good?” “Yes. His little girl is a straight-A student and
Charles Jr. is a whiz on the xylophone.” Esme glared at Andrea
spitefully. “You got any children yet?”

“No.” Andrea shot a sideways glance at Gran,
who was having the human equivalent of a nuclear meltdown.

“Andrea is on the agenda. She’s head of the
clinic, you know.” Gran’s voice was tight with suppressed ire.

“That’s nice, sweetie.” Esme gave them both a
con-descending smile. “Here’s Charles.”

“Hi, Andrea. Glad to see you home,” Charles
said as he joined them with his wife, Janice, a good-natured, plump
woman expecting their third child. “I’ve got a few ideas for the
clinic. I’ll be talking to you.”

“All suggestions are welcome,” Andrea
replied. She ignored Gran huffing with indignation beside her.

“Big head, that’s his problem. Just like his
momma,” Gran muttered when they left to find their seats.

“Hush. Let’s sit down,” Andrea whispered.

Having been so long in Chicago, she’d
forgotten about the forced intimacy of small-town life. What others
thought of you was very important. Alienating your neighbors would
seriously limit your social life and even hurt a business. Not to
mention how hard it was when most of them were relatives. So for
years there might never be an open battle, just a simmering feud.
Andrea felt a renewed dread when she glanced around.

“Hello again, Ms. Noble.” A deep voice broke
through her thoughts.

Andrea looked up. The dark eyes and dimple
were familiar. His smile made her feel special, like she was the
only woman he saw in the crowd. But it was his eyes that drew her
in most of all. She was momentarily lost in the smoky depths that
invited her into a sensuous other world. Andrea’s practical,
cynical side fought hard to pull her from the edge.

Andrea’s gaze took in all of him. He was
wearing an olive green and navy blue striped polo shirt open at the
collar. His pants were navy also. A leather belt the color of dark
wine coordinated with his loafers. The cologne he wore was a spicy,
warm scent. He seemed oblivious to the stir he was causing. In
fact, women all around the auditorium were staring at him in avid
curiosity.

Gran glanced from Andrea to the man. “Guess I
better introduce myself, since my granddaughter’s been struck dumb.
I’m Mavis Ricard.”

Embarrassed and suddenly irritated, Andrea
snapped out of her stupor. Exactly what she needed tonight, to make
a fool of herself, especially in front of this man. His knowing
smile grated even more.

“I would, Gran, except I can’t quite recall
his name,” Andrea said, lifting her nose and glancing away.

“Jamal Turner. Nice to meet you, Mrs.
Ricard.” He dipped his head to her in a courtly bow.

“Baby, everybody calls me Miz Mavis. You can,
too.” Gran grinned at him widely. “Such a polite young fella. Not
like some of these other rascals.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jamal said.

“Who are your people? You from around here?
Don’t sound like it. I’ll bet you from up north or something.” Gran
went into full investigation mode. “Don’t you think, Andrea?”

“Hmm,” Andrea said in what she hoped was a
disinterested voice. Still her heartbeat picked up speed when he
spoke.

“I’m from Los Angeles actually. Born and
raised there.” Jamal seemed more than willing to answer her
questions. “My grandmother lives in Lafayette.”

“Well, then you’re as good as a Louisiana
child,” Gran declared. She nodded with approval, and then leaned
toward him. “Got a good job?”

“Gran, really!” Andrea wanted to sink under
the gray-tiled floor.

“Just got a pretty good one right here in
town,” Jamal answered smoothly as though not the least bit put
out.

“That sure is nice. Isn’t it, Andrea?” Gran’s
eyes twinkled.

“Right.” Andrea laced her answer with doubt.
“So what are you doing here?”

“I’m part of the effort to make Bayou Blue a
better place to live,” he said. “I’m helping the local Improvement
Committee.”

“What?” Andrea was no less astonished than if
he’d announced he was from another planet.

“And I’m committed to improving the quality
of life.” He squared his shoulders.

“Exactly what we need,” Gran put in with
enthusiasm. “A talented young man with a good heart. And strong
arms, too. Don’t you think he’s built real strong, Andrea?” She
nudged Andrea with her elbow.

“Oh, please!” Andrea hissed in a low voice.
She was mortified to find him watching her with an amused
expression.

“Thank you, ma’am. I try to work out three
times a week. And I eat all my vegetables.”

“Your mamma raised a fine son.” Gran patted
his arm and glanced at Andrea. “Real fine."

“The meeting is about to start. Let’s sit
down.” Andrea pushed Gran toward empty seats in the second row from
the front. “Excuse us.”