The Choir Director by Carl Weber

Author:Carl Weber [Weber, Carl]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-7582-6833-4
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2011-09-19T04:00:00+00:00

I’d won the battle with Porsche in the rehearsal room, but I still couldn’t dismiss the image of Aaron’s fingers playing in her hair. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t even focus on the exercise routine, so I left step class early.

I was in the locker room, having already showered and put on my makeup by the time the room filled up with about twenty of the sisters who’d been in the exercise class, including Porsche and the first lady, who sat down next to me.

I watched as Porsche slipped off her gym clothes and put a towel around her body. I wanted to go in there and kick her ass for messing with my man, but she’d soon be getting the message loud and clear that I wasn’t playing around.

I sat there fuming as I listened to Porsche talking to one of the sisters. “I really got my workout on today. I feel like I lost five pounds of pure sweat!”

“Yeah, girl, I know what you mean,” the other girl replied.

The first lady turned to me, and I could see her studying my face in the mirror. “How come you left step class so early?” she asked.

“I got a hot date and didn’t wanna be late,” I said for the entire locker room to hear.

“Well, just don’t make it too hot. Remember we’re Christians,” Monique joked.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here first thing in the morning to ask for forgiveness,” I joked back, and quite a few of the sisters laughed, including the first lady. I loved that Monique was still real. She didn’t try to change and become all judgmental, even if she had been elevated to the position of first lady after she married T. K.

“How’d things go with her?” Monique whispered, gesturing in the direction of Porsche. “Glad to see neither of you has any scratches or bruises.”

I waved my hand like it was nothing. “Oh, please. That woman is not even in my league. You see who’s going on a date tonight and who isn’t?”

“I know that’s right. Let me go ahead and take me a shower so I can see if I can get my husband to take me on a date.” She went to her locker and grabbed her body wash and shampoo. I watched as Porsche finished up her conversation and did the same before heading into the shower room. I waited for the fireworks that I knew were about to begin.

About five or six minutes later, a bloodcurdling screech came from the showers. I followed all the other women who rushed in the direction of the cries.

The women who made it there first started in right away with a chorus of “Oh my God! What happened?” and “This is awful!”

I slowly made my way through the crowd to view the cause of the commotion. Boy, oh boy, was it a sight for these sore eyes. There was Porsche, naked as the day she was born, screaming at the top of her lungs.

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