There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments as Luke seemed to think about the judgmental comment.
“Good point, Eric. All a man really has to call his own is his reputation, and once that’s damaged it’s just about impossible to make repairs.”
Then he moved on. “And what do you want from this experience, Brian?”
The young bass player slumped, exhaled a pent-up breath and fiddled with the plastic guitar pick between his fingers.
“Brian wants to make it in the business so he can get away from our old man,” Eric offered on behalf of his kid brother.
“Forever,” Brian added, not looking up.
Claire noted the way Luke’s gaze darted back and forth between the two brothers, taking in that piece of news. She squirmed in her dark corner of the room, uncomfortable, feeling she was eavesdropping on group therapy. Luke was making a sincere, albeit gruff effort to get to know his protégés. Even grudgingly, she had to admire that in the man.
“Believe it or not, guys, I understand. At your age I felt all those things. Thanks for being honest with me.” Luke’s voice was hushed, almost reverent. She had to lean forward and listen closely.
“Now that I know why you’re here we can start plotting some serious progress. If you knuckle down and really work hard for me, what we accomplish in the next two days will blow your minds. But I warn you, I can’t abide slackers. I have to prove myself to your church council, and you guys have to prove yourselves to me. Got that?”
Heads bobbed agreement as he glanced around the circle.
“I never make a promise I can’t keep. So, listen up. When you work with me you’ll stretch your skills and your minds and I promise we’ll produce music that will open doors for you in this business. But when we’re working together you’ve got to give me your undivided attention, and I’ll do the same for you. No exceptions. You got that, too?”
They nodded understanding.
Luke extended his arm into the center of the circle, palm down and asked, “Are we a team?”
Hands stacked on hands as they shared that very male ritual of the pregame huddle followed by high fives.
“Hey, Miss Texas, you got anything to eat back there?”
When Luke called out his question young heads turned her way. Startled to realize he’d known she was there all along, Claire jumped to her feet, grabbed the bag of fast food and hurried down front.
“Thanks, Miss Claire!”
The youngsters took the bag, fished out burritos and napkins and tossed the sack and remaining contents to Luke. He pulled several bills from his wallet and sent them to the soft drink machines in the basement kitchen with stern instructions to hurry back.
“Still sore at me?” His brows arched expectantly over green eyes, his mouth quirked with a hint of humor.
“Why would you ask that?” She played the wide-eyed dumb blonde, and hated herself for it.
“Oh, maybe because I yanked your chain a few times, but just to see if you were a good sport.”
“And?” She waited, for some strange reason hoping she’d overcome the prima donna, first impression she may have given him.
“And you reacted like a professional.”
She could tell he wanted to say more.
“But?” She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and waited for the rest.
“But even pros make mistakes. That’s a popular piece of music that everybody will recognize, but it’s all wrong for your voice. If you wanna give your best performance you’ll let me coach you.” He threw down the gauntlet, something he appeared to do frequently.
“Oh, that’s not necessary.” She brushed off his suggestion.
“Trust me. It is.”
“Speaking of trust,” she changed the subject, “I understand why Freeway trusts you. I was there this morning when you rescued him on the bridge. That was a brave thing you did.”
“Bravery had nothin’ to do with it.” He brushed away the compliment like a pesky fly. “I just couldn’t help myself. It makes me so mad to see an animal or a kid mistreated.”
Squeaking sneakers and the muffled voices of four teens signaled they were about to have company. Luke looked down and focused on the meal. He rustled inside the white paper sack and withdrew a taco. He peeled back the wrapper and prepared to take a large bite.
“Wait!” Claire shouted, regretting her juvenile act, making a sudden effort to stop him. But he leaned out of her reach and sunk his teeth into the crisp corn tortilla, loaded with three-alarm salsa and jalapeño peppers.
Luke scrunched his forehead in a scowl as he dodged the woman’s attempt to grab his taco. The salty shell broke in his mouth with a crunch. Tasty meat seasoned with hot sauce filled his senses. As he chewed he became aware of the spicy warmth that quickly morphed into a burning sensation. Within seconds his breath caught in his throat. His mouth and sinuses blazed.
Claire sprinted toward the door where Zach had appeared, an unopened soda in his hand. She scooped it from his grip and tossed it in a high arch directly at Luke. In a fluid movement he caught the can, popped the top, dodged the spray and chugged the soda. He stopped to draw a breath only to ensure his esophagus hadn’t suffered permanent damage.
“I’m so sorry!” Claire stood at his side, her hands clenched together at her heart as if pleading for forgiveness.
Luke continued to let the chilly effervescence of the drink soothe the coals that still smoldered inside his mouth.
Pure mortification in her eyes, Claire held out her hand for the remainder of his meal. Instead Luke plopped the empty can in her palm and took a close look at the offending taco. It was packed with hot peppers, each seed a tiny grenade of heat waiting to explode. He crammed it back into the sack, unwrapped, and examined a second taco that was also crowded with ripe green jalapeños. He turned to the woman who’d literally taken his breath away.
“How thoughtful of you to welcome a newcomer to your church with a meal that’s obviously a special order.” He spoke loud enough for the boys to hear and they naturally drifted toward the couple to find out what effort Claire had gone to for their new mentor.
Her eyes widened as Luke extended his hand, waving the peppery fare beneath her nose. “Care to share with me?”
“No, thanks.” She shook her head, an adamant refusal that brushed a cascade of fine blond hair across her shoulders. “I never eat this late at night.”
“Oh, come on now. How much can one bite hurt?” Luke cajoled, knowing full well how painful one bite would be.
“Yeah, Miss Claire, you’re too skinny,” Zach chimed in. “Eat up.”
The group of boys surrounded her, insisting she share the food Luke continued to offer. She waved Luke away but he caught her wrist, rotated her hand and deposited the taco into her palm. He lifted his eyebrows expectantly, a silent dare only she would understand.
Trepidation written all over her unforgettable face, she licked her lips as if anticipating the fire. The paper wrapper rustled as she squeezed the taco and brought it closer to her face. She eyed the heap of peppers, swallowed what must have been her pride and closed her eyes as if blocking the thought of the approaching inferno.
Luke enjoyed the way her perfect little nose twitched when it caught the vinegary scent of the peppers. He was sure she’d back down, but she resolutely parted her lips and prepared to take the plunge.
He was impressed.
He clapped his hands together loudly to capture everyone’s attention. Claire’s