Make It Last Forever

She intrigued him immensely. At least he wouldn’t have to fake it when he flirted with her. Because—seeing her—he knew exactly which tactic he was going for. Strong-arm tactics were out. Smooth-talking-mack-dropping-game-slinging skills were in and definitely more in line with how he planned to play it.

“Hello” was the extent of what he could manage to utter as he took in her overwhelming beauty. His heart actually felt as if it had stalled and kick-started as he really looked at her this time. Shaking his head in an effort to clear the foggy uneasiness that had started to creep into his being, Darius cleared his throat.

She had glanced up at him when he walked into the center, and she was still looking at him. Her big, brown eyes slightly widened, and she finally blinked several times in rapid succession.

He guessed by her wide-eyed, prolonged stare that she might have been experiencing a reaction very similar to his own. But what would be the best way to find out if she was?

“So, you’re Karen Williams.” He let her name roll off his tongue, and he could have sworn he tasted each syllable.

She blinked and shook her head. The dazed look in her eyes was quickly replaced by a stern expression. “Yes, I am. And we are just about to close, Mr. Rollins. I don’t know why you’re here. I’ve given my answer to your request to your very condescending manager.”

So she knew who he was. That could be a good thing. Maybe she was a fan. However, if she were a fan, she probably wouldn’t have declined his offer to volunteer. He glanced at her and found her lips twisted to the side and her left eye slightly slanted; the entire look was a mixture of incredulity and disgust. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t such a good thing, and she definitely wasn’t a fan. He could deal with that. He firmed his resolve to woo her.

“I apologize for whatever Cullen did or said to turn you off. But I would like to speak with you about me volunteering here. I read about the good work you’re doing, and I really want to help out. In fact, seeing your pretty face is enough to make a brother long for community service.” He gave her his very best Hollywood smile, his most sultry and seductive leading-man smile.

Judging by the extra dose of sour she added to her expression, he probably could have left that last sentence out. But it wasn’t a lie. Seeing her made him want to volunteer there now more than ever.

“Yeah, whatever. Listen, it’s late, and I’ve been here all day. I don’t have time to talk with you now.”

“How about I take you out for a bite to eat, and we can get to know one another. You know you can fill me in on how we can best make use of my very generous offer to volunteer here. And I can fill you in on all my many talents and the amount of publicity and donations I can bring to your center. You know, the perfect win-win situation.”

The beautiful woman arched her left eyebrow and twisted her lips again. “I don’t think so… I don’t know.” She gave him a hesitant once-over, and he let himself hope that she was reconsidering.

“Okay, you can come in tomorrow morning when we open. We can talk about it then. Good night, Mr. Rollins.”

Although the last thing he wanted to do was leave there without making a better connection with the lovely Karen Williams, Darius realized that he probably wasn’t going to get very far with her that evening. Good thing he was so determined to do everything in his power to make her say yes. He’d have plenty of time to get her to think better of him.

“Solid. That’s cool. We’ve got plenty of time to get to know one another and to connect. Plenty of time.”

She stared at him, and he thought he saw a glimmer of something in her eyes. He almost wanted to kick himself for giving up so quickly. He might have had more of a chance than he thought he did at wearing her down that evening. Dang.

Then, just as quickly as the sparkle flashed in her eyes, it was gone and replaced with “sista-tude.”

“Yeah, well, whatever. I’ll see you in the morning. Peace.”

Giving the beautiful and sexy woman one last glance, he begrudgingly turned to leave. It hardly seemed like the right thing to do, and everything inside of him screamed, “Stay until she at least warms up to you!” He hoped that he’d get the opportunity.

One thing he was sure of was that he wouldn’t give up until he accomplished what he wanted. The other thing was that he was no longer sure if exactly what he wanted was a chance to volunteer, a chance to get to know Karen or both.

Chapter 3

Karen leaned back and tried to calm the rapid—almost erratic—beating of her heart. It had been all she could manage just to string words together to speak to D-Roc. While she had never been one to be starstruck or anything like that, she figured that must have been the reason why her skin felt clammy and all the air seemed to be gone. She was damn near hyperventilating because she had seen a rap star.

No, that couldn’t be it. She had been around rappers before. Her now-deceased best friend had been a rapper, and she’d hung out with him and other rappers lots of times. But she had never been around D-Roc. And now she wondered how in the heck she was going to manage being around him if he managed to sweet-talk her into letting him volunteer at the center.

The brother was fine. She had seen his shirtless, perfectly chiseled torso on countless magazine covers, and it always made her stop and gaze longingly. And the photos of the ripples and muscles in his chest and those bulging biceps of his always had a way of making her heart rate rise. But she had no idea that seeing the man in person—fully clothed—would almost send her into heart failure! Good Lord! The man gave new meaning to the phrase “sex appeal.”

But it was more than that. Something deep inside of her was calling out to him. She felt it as sure as she ever felt anything in her life. And that scared her.

Locking up the center, she started off down the block to the bus stop. The evening walk usually gave her a fair amount of time to clear her head, especially in the summer. Yet this evening the only thing her mind wanted to focus on was D-Roc. On second thought, she wished it was only her mind stuck on the rapper and actor.

Seeing him did something weird to her. Her heart felt—funny. Her soul felt—light, almost airy. And the other physical reactions…the dampness that made her wish she’d worn a panty liner and the tight ache in her nipples. She wasn’t even trying to analyze those. She was not some groupie chicken-head, but she swore it took everything inside of her not to run up on the brother and tongue him down.

Not cool.

“I know you not gonna walk home at this hour of the night?” The deep and sexy voice that came from behind her would have made her break off running on any other evening.

She turned and got caught up in the deep brown eyes of Darius Rollins. The lopsided grin that highlighted the dimple in his left cheek didn’t help matters. She made an effort not to look down, because she knew it would only compound matters due to his toned and muscular physique.

“Can I give you a lift?”

“I don’t get into cars with strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger.” He took another step closer, and all semblance of personal space was gone.

His eyes glimmered, and for a brief second he looked different. A person flashed in her mind—another man wearing a 1970s-style polyester suit with a funky print shirt and perfect Afro. The tall man with a lean and muscular build looked different. But she would have put money on the fact that the personality and the cocky smile were one in the same.

Shaking her head in an effort to try and clear her obvious delusion, Karen took a step back.

With his cocksure grin aimed dead at her, Darius took a step forward.

If she had her Mace out she would have considered spraying him with it. She would have considered it, but she never would have done it. The tingling in her gut and the sudden goose pimples popping up on her skin wouldn’t have allowed her to really hurt the pesky man.

“Are you always so annoying?” Dang, her voice sounded husky and wanton even to her own ears. She wondered what it sounded like to him.

Judging by the self-assured glimmer in his eyes and the flash of arrogance in his smile, he had picked up on it all right. Leaning closer, he actually let his hand brush her face.

An electric charge coursed through her body, and a sudden case of dry mouth overwhelmed her.

Are my palms sweating? Sheesh, my freaking palms are sweating!

Swallowing a couple of times and failing at not making it look like she was taking gulps of air in the process, she slanted her eyes.

“I’m not trying to be annoying. I just want to give you a ride home. A pretty woman such as yourself shouldn’t be walking out here alone.”

“It’s summertime, and there’s still a little daylight left. Plus, I’m just walking to the bus stop. I do it all the time.”

“Well, today I would love it if you’d do me the honor of letting me see you safely to your door. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t have to ride public transportation. It’s the least I can do.”

She couldn’t help but cut her eyes. How did he manage to make chauvinism sexy?

Oh, hell, no!

Chauvinism was so not sexy, no matter how much he drank her in with his dark brown bedroom eyes.

Uh-uh. No.

“If I have managed to make it to the bus stop and home by my little lonesome all these years without a big strong man to make sure I got there, then surely I can continue to do so,” she said in an overly sweet voice before flipping back to her normal tone. “Your showing up at my youth center didn’t alter the universe or anything. I’m still the same grown-ass woman I was when I woke up this morning.”

Darius really let his eyes do the talking then. The brown probes gave her an up-and-down appraisal that left her feeling fully and truly exposed. She felt like he could see inside of her, knowing her thoughts, wants and desires.

“You ain’t neva lied about that! But check it, let me just see you home. I’ll sleep so much better knowing that you’re safe. Remember, I just had a cousin killed in this neighborhood. Just let me do this.” He held out his hand, and in a moment of complete and utter craziness that she would have never anticipated in a million years, she took it and followed him to his car. As soon as her hand touched his, a jolt of overwhelming awareness went through her, and she knew that she was in big trouble.

As soon as Karen’s hand touched his, a spark of something Darius couldn’t name ran through him. Trying to ignore the loud, incessant beating of his heart, Darius gave a quick sideways glance to the sexy, vibrant, out-of-this-world dynamic beauty holding his hand. In a matter of a few minutes, he felt like he never wanted to let her go.

And he couldn’t stop staring at her for anything. He actually stood in front of his car for at least a couple of seconds trying to figure out why for a split second she looked like a different woman. He could have sworn her auburn and copper locs morphed into a 1970s Angela Davis Afro for a minute.

Yeah, Karen Williams had him tripping for real. He needed to hurry up and get her home so he could figure out how one look at her made him want to spend all his time getting to know every single thing about her.

Once they were both settled into the car, he turned to her. “So where to, beautiful?”

“You’re going to regret offering me a ride.” She gave him a saucy grin. “I live all the way in South Brooklyn, in the Boerum Hill neighborhood. Betcha now you wish you had let me take the bus.” A lyrical laugh escaped her lips.

He laughed and winked at her. “Actually, my place, when I’m in town, is in South Brooklyn, as well. I have a loft in Cobble Hill. That’s about as close as this Brooklyn boy was going to get to Manhattan. If I’m in the city, I’m in my borough.”

She gave a soft chuckle. “Didn’t want to get a place in money-making Manhattan, huh?”

“Manhattan makes it—” he started.

“—but Brooklyn takes it!” They finished the old party chant together and laughed.

“So see, it’s fate. I was meant to spend more time with you tonight.” He started the car and realized that he actually believed what he just said. He wasn’t running game or anything.

Once Darius had dropped Karen off at her apartment, he still couldn’t get her out of his head. It was almost as if she was on a continuous loop set to repeat indefinitely. Her smile, her luminous eyes, her scent…

Damn, her scent was like honey, hibiscus, dew and a shot of warm desire. He could imagine living the rest of his life with nothing but her scent for nourishment. It almost felt as if something snapped to life in him as soon as he got close enough to get a good whiff. The close quarters in the car had been hell. He’d wanted to pull over and pull her into his arms.

The sharp ring of the phone jolted him out of his reverie. When he made the mad dash to catch it and found that it was his manager, Cullen Stamps, he wished that he had just let it ring.

“So now that that hard-edged bitch has turned you down, are you over your need to spend time at that little youth center and get back in the studio? You don’t have a lot of time to record the album before your next film begins shooting. In this business, you have to strike while you’re hot. You don’t have time to waste at that youth center. Send them a donation in your cousin’s name and call it a day.” No hello or how’re you doing for Cullen. Just straight to business.

Hesitation and hiding never appealed to Darius, so he was up-front about his lack of success. But he also let Cullen know that he didn’t intend to give up. In fact, he was more dedicated than ever to make this happen.

“I really like Karen, and I admire what she’s doing with the youth. I might try and figure out a way to volunteer at her center whenever I have a break in my schedule. You know, set up something ongoing and permanent.”

“What do you mean whenever you have a break in your schedule? There is no such thing as a break. You don’t have a break now! You should be in the studio. Time is money!”

“I mean just what I said. Hey, it’s for a good cause. It’s for my cousin’s memory. It’s the least I can do, and I’m going to do it.” He didn’t even worry about the edge in his voice. Cullen needed to hear that edge and know to back the hell up.

“Do I have to remind you that every minute you spend at that center is time away from the studio? And what about the fact that you running around in the hood without folks to protect you isn’t exactly the smartest idea. You may not be as successful as Will Smith yet, but you’re still a highly recognizable person. You wouldn’t want to end up just like your cousin by trying to do something in his memory.”

Darius could literally feel his face twisting in anger. East New York was his hood. He’d be damned if he started walking around with bodyguards in his own neighborhood. That wasn’t going to happen. And for Cullen to insinuate that he needed bodyguards or a damn entourage? That was the height of disrespect, and he wasn’t having it.

“I can take care of myself.” His tone moved from hard-edged to straight-up harsh. And sometimes with Cullen that was exactly what it took.

“If you say so—”

“I say so.”

“Well, what about recording? We don’t have a lot of—” Cullen’s entire demeanor changed, but it still wasn’t enough for Darius. He had to cut Cullen off and nip it all in the bud.

“It’s all good, Cullen. Chill! I’ll just cut back on the partying.” It struck Darius how much he really meant that only after the words had fallen out of his mouth. The only important thing for him at that moment was honoring his cousin’s memory and being able to spend more time with Karen.

“I guess if you can manage to stay on track with the recording then it should be fine.”

“It’ll be more than fine. Look man, I’m gonna catch some z’s or try to, anyway. I’ll holla later.”

“But—”

Darius just hung up the phone on Cullen. He’d made up his mind to pursue the lovely Ms. Williams. If nothing else, he had to figure out why he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since he met her. And why he felt as if he’d known her forever when he only met her a few hours ago. Yeah, once he figured all that out, he’d be cool.

Cullen hung up the phone and counted to ten in order to stop himself from throwing the damn thing across the room. He must have underestimated both of them. He just knew that his phone call to the girl had turned her off enough to make her not want to deal with Darius at all. Why did Darius have to go down there and see her?

He sighed. He needed a Plan B in place in case Darius didn’t bend the way he wanted him to. He smiled. He knew just the people to call in order to keep the gravy train moving for everyone. It really paid to have dirt on people. Even the most seemingly insignificant person could come in handy at the right time.

Chapter 4

Two cups of coffee didn’t help and couldn’t halt the constant yawns that made their way through Karen’s mouth. Tired didn’t even come close to describing the way she felt. All of her attempts to go back to sleep were interrupted by dreams—dreams about people in the past, dreams about people that reminded her of herself and D-Roc.

And the words… She couldn’t get those haunting words out of her head. Voices that sounded different but somehow said the same thing. We’ll be together forever… Our souls are connected, and that will last forever…

If she didn’t have the utmost faith in her own sanity, she might have thought she was going crazy. But as long as the voices stayed in her dreams and didn’t start telling her to kill three people or some foolishness like that, she figured she was okay. She was almost tempted to go next door to see Dicey and get that reading she was always trying to tempt her with.

Nah, I don’t believe in that woo-woo stuff. It’s just crazy dreams. Stress or something like that…

“Good morning, Karen.” D-Roc came waltzing in on time with two cups of what looked like far better coffee than the stuff she’d brewed when she came in.

“Morning.” She inhaled. It smelled a whole lot better than her coffee, smelled like it would do a much better job at waking her up than the no-name stuff she had.

“You look like a caramel latte kind of girl.” He leaned over, handing her the fancy cup of java, and she wondered if there was such a thing as “love at first random act of kindness.”

She glanced at him, gave him a slow appraisal and liked what she saw. He was wearing khaki slacks with a short-sleeved red, green and khaki plaid button-up that was unbuttoned with a red T-shirt underneath. He looked good. Really good.

“I had to stop and get some for myself and figured it would be… I mean if you don’t like caramel latte, you can have this. It’s just plain Jamaica Blue Mountain. I did take a few sips already, but…” he rambled.

She realized that she was looking at him with her slanted-eye incredulous expression, and it probably made him more nervous than she wanted him to feel. The guy had just brought her some delicious pricey coffee after all. Karen reached out and took the latte from his hand.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“Rough night?”

“You could say that. You look like you’ve had a rough night, too. A little too much partying, huh?”

“No. No partying. Just couldn’t sleep. I had some pretty weird dreams, not really nightmares…just weird. The sleep wouldn’t come and stay put. I kept waking up. Finally, I just got up and ah…worked on some lyrics. I was suddenly very inspired to write a song.”

Hearing him describe almost exactly the same lack-of-sleep night she’d had, Karen felt a slight tremor go down her spine.

“So—” he pulled up a chair and camped in front of her desk before continuing “—what does a brother have to do to get you to give him a chance?”

Talk about loaded questions! It was clear to her the brother had other things on his mind besides community service. Or was that just her wishful thinking?

Nah, brother man had an agenda, a panties agenda. She knew a brother on the prowl when she saw one. The only problem was she felt like she wanted to give in to whatever he was gunning for.

She wanted the man.

That was the plain and simple, honest-to-goodness truth.

She let out a short breath and took a sip of her latte. “Why?”

“Why?” he repeated.

“Yeah, why? Why are you so intent on helping out here? As far as rappers go, you certainly don’t need to work on your image. You might even have Will Smith beat when it comes to being hip-hop’s golden boy. And you put out goody-two-shoes feel-good rap music. No gangsta…no politics…just happy-happy—”

He frowned as he interrupted her. “You sound like you have a problem with music that makes people dance and feel good.”

She shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with it. It is what it is. It’s not my particular vibe. I tend to go toward more conscious stuff, political stuff—old-school Public Enemy, new-school Dead Prez…”

She didn’t need to tell him that she also had his CDs in her collection. She certainly didn’t need to tell him that she had purchased them, particularly the one with his shirtless muscled torso, strictly for the covers. And she definitely didn’t have to tell him that she had jokingly told her girlfriends and Amina that he was fine and he was her future husband and baby daddy whenever they were watching music videos or whenever they went to see one of his films. She shook her head. No, she didn’t have to tell him any of that.

“But hey, to each his own… In any case, back to my question. You already have a great public image. Did you do something bad that’s about to come out in the papers or something? Did you get a new movie role that has you playing a character that works in a youth center? Why do you want to volunteer here? What’s your angle?”

She took a sip of her coffee mostly to calm her nerves. She was already leaning toward just telling him yes, he could volunteer there, but she had to be sure. She didn’t want anyone using her kids for a publicity stunt. However, the more she hung around him, the more she started to believe that he wouldn’t do that.

He took a deep breath and just stared at her for a moment. His eyes squinted, and he rubbed his temple before exhaling and leaning back. Weariness seemed to overcome him as his shoulders sort of slouched and his face became drawn.

“I grew up not far from here in the Louis H. Pink Houses Projects—Pink Houses. The East New York neighborhood will always be home. But it’s been a minute since I’ve been back. Once I moved my grandmother, aunt and little cousin out of here, there was really no real reason to come back. Plenty of rappers think they can make it big and still hang out in the same spots they used to and end up getting got.

“Plus, I was actually too busy touring and recording to get back much. And once Hollywood came knocking… Anyway, I’ve always donated money through a foundation I set up. It’s anonymous mostly because I never wanted to draw attention to my giving. Like you so eloquently noted, I don’t exactly need any help in the golden-boy goody-two-shoes department.” He smiled.

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