“How’s the new program going at the agency?”
Dominique shot him a look. “Oh, you’re talking to me now?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I might as well not even be here for all the attention you’ve paid to me since I got in the car.”
“Now you’re being silly.”
Her neck jerked back. “Silly?”
“Yes, silly.”
She folded her arms tightly beneath her breasts and pouted.
Spence inhaled deeply. He and Dominique had been close for years. He’d grown accustomed to her moods and her often irrational feelings of being ignored. It had taken him a long time to understand that it wasn’t him or anything that he was or wasn’t doing; it was pure insecurity on her part. At times it could be endearing, and he’d want to comfort her and make it all go away; other times it was totally frustrating. He knew it was why she was always flamboyant, the party girl, the one who needed to be noticed. And when she wasn’t, she pouted, like now.
“So are you going to tell me how the program is going, or are you going to keep those luscious lips poked out until we get to Rafe’s house? My mama always said, ‘If you do your mouth like that, your lips are gonna stay that way,’” he said in a bad falsetto with a heavy Southern twang.
Dominique turned to look at him and rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh.
“It’s going fine. Thank you very much for asking.”
Dominique was the executive director of First Impressions, a nonprofit agency that provided clothing and training to disadvantaged women and single mothers. She’d recently been approved for a grant to fund a GED program.
“How many students so far?”
“Can you believe we already have a waiting list?” She shook her head in wonder.
“Yeah, actually I can. Lotta people are struggling out there, Dom. All they need is a chance.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t think I ever realized how much until I started the agency.”
“You do good work.” He turned to her. “I’m proud of you.”
She reached across the gears and squeezed his hand as the car drew to a stoplight. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.” Her eyes held his for a moment.
He turned his attention back to the road. “Rafe’s town house is on the next street, right?”
“Yep. Third one from the corner, on the left.”
“Does he know you’re coming?”
“No.”
“Dom, suppose he’s … busy.”
She chuckled. “What else would be new?”
“I’ve been trying to get him to come down to the club and play. He’s always busy,” Spence said, pulling into Rafe’s driveway.
Dominique got out of the car and shut the door. “You should’ve told me. I would have spoken to him for you. Rafe can never tell me no.”
They stood in front of the door. Spence turned to her. “Who can?”
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