The Choir Director Page 8

  One of the older, more prominent sisters turned toward Trustee Whitmore and said, “I don’t care if he wants a million dollars. I want that man to be our choir director, you hear?”

  Aaron stood up from the piano and walked to the front of the crowd. “We’re going to be doing some new things here at First Jamaica Ministries. I really think you’re going to like it. I, for one, plan on winning a few of those national choir championship trophies y’all have displayed in that case over there. But I can’t do it by myself. I’m going to need all of your help in doing it and more. So, please, tell all your friends.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” one sister around Aaron’s age said, then took out her phone and took his picture. “You about to be all over Facebook.”

  While Aaron was charming the skirts off the women present, I watched with amusement as the two trustees scurried out of the practice room. They were probably itching to report back to Deacon Smith before the vote this afternoon. I would have loved to hear what they planned on telling him. Not that it mattered. T. K. had something for Jonathan Smith and his cronies. Something that would put his old buddy Smitty right back where we wanted him.

  I turned to Tia. “So, what do you think of our new choir director?”

  She nodded. “He can sing, that’s for sure.”

  “I know he can sing. Everybody in the room knows he can sing. I wasn’t talking about his musical ability. What do you think of him as a man?” I raised both eyebrows twice, giving her a look I knew she would understand.

  She turned her head, trying to hide a smile. “He’s cute, I guess. Not really my style.”

  “Cute, you guess?” I rolled my eyes. “Tia, I know we’re in the church, but aren’t you taking this whole Goody-Two-shoes-church-girl thing a little far? I mean, less than ten minutes ago, I had to darn near scrape your eyes off the man’s behind.”

  If you didn’t think real-dark-skinned women could blush, well, news flash: they can. That’s exactly what Tia was doing.

  “I wasn’t looking at his behind. It looked like he had something on his pants.”

  “Well, whatever it was must have been right on his butt, because that’s where your eyes were.”

  “First Lady, I swear—”

  I lifted my hand to stop her. Because of her past history with men, I knew Tia was uncomfortable with talk that was even remotely sexual. As a fairly new first lady, I was still learning to control my mouth. I tried to put the brakes on this conversation before it got out of control. “Tia, it’s okay. Ain’t nothing wrong with looking at a handsome man. It’s just looking.”

  She nodded, still looking a little annoyed. “And I can appreciate that he’s a good-looking man—a very good-looking man—but he’s just not my type. And I definitely don’t want to end up with a reputation like Porsche Moore over there.”

  I turned and saw Porsche Moore, one of the church’s more “active” women, all up in Aaron’s face. She had what every man wanted and what every woman envied: a huge, perfectly round butt and long, flowing hair that hung below her waist. She wrote something on the back of a business card and boldly handed it to him. I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with music or the choir.

  “Uh-huh, I see what you mean.” I gestured for Tia to come a little closer, lowering my voice. “Tia, the church has a lot riding on Mr. Mackie over there, and we don’t need him falling into the wrong situation, if you know what I mean.”

  “I think I do,” she replied.

  “Why don’t you show Aaron around? Keep him occupied and out of trouble. He doesn’t know the area, and I would hate for someone like Porsche to be his guide.”

  “I don’t know, First Lady. I don’t want to give him the wrong impression.”

  “You won’t, because we’re going to make it very clear to everyone that you’re the choir’s new administrator, along with being the administrative secretary. Plus, I would consider it a personal favor. I don’t have to tell you, but we don’t need any more controversy, and you know how these churchwomen can be. All you’re going to be is a chaperone.”

  She still looked a little uncomfortable with the whole idea, but if Tia was anything, it was loyal to the church. “Okay, if you put it like that, I’ll do it, but you can deal with her.” She gestured toward the door as my friend Simone strutted into the room. At first I thought she was headed toward Tia and me, but instead she headed directly toward Aaron.

  “So, you’re the new choir director everyone is talking about?” Simone said.

  I watched as she blatantly eyed him from head to toe before offering her hand. I knew that look; I’d seen her give it to men in the past. Simone was on the prowl, and Aaron Mackie was her prey. Aaron was a little less conspicuous, but it was pretty obvious from where I stood that he liked what he saw. Poor guy didn’t know what he was getting into. He didn’t have a chance.

  The thought crossed my mind to pull her off to the side and ask her to back off, but I was sure I’d be accused of wanting him for myself.

  “Yes, I’m Aaron Mackie.” He took her hand. “But everyone calls me Mackie.”

  “I’m Simone Wilcox, the chairwoman of the board of trustees. And if everyone calls you Mackie, then I’m gonna call you Aaron.” She winked at him. “A girl’s gotta have something to herself.”

  Mackie smiled. “Miss Simone, as pretty as you are, you can have whatever you want.”

  “Be careful what you ask for. You might just get it.” She released a throaty chuckle, then turned to wave at Tia and me. No doubt she wanted to make sure we were witnessing her in action. “Well, anyway, I just wanted to meet you before the vote this afternoon.”

  Aaron looked frustrated. “Why do people keep talking about a vote?”

  Simone looked over at me and shook her head accusingly. “I take it no one told you that the board of trustees and deacons have to vote on whether to accept you as our choir director before you officially have the position.”

  “Excuse me?” Aaron raised his voice. “You mean to tell me I moved all the way up here and I don’t even have the job yet?”

  “Sweetie, all I can tell you is that you’ve got my vote.” The look she gave him made it clear that he could have a lot more than just her vote.

  Thank goodness most of the people had started to leave, because Aaron did not look happy as he approached me. He was followed by Simone, who was tilting her head to get a better look at his ass.

  We were all silent for an uncomfortable nanosecond until he spoke. “Is this true? I don’t officially have the job yet?”

  “Aaron, calm down. I think you should talk to the bishop. He’ll explain everything to you.”

  “Damn right he will. Where can I find him?”

  “He’s in his office.” I sighed, wishing I could text my hubby a heads-up, but he barely ever looked at his text messages. “Tia, why don’t you show Mackie to the administrative offices while I wrap this up?”

  “No problem, First Lady.” She gestured toward the door. “You ready, Aaron?”

  “Um, Aaron, before you go …” Simone reached into her purse and handed him a business card. “Call me after the vote. I’m the one who’s in charge of getting you that Escalade you were promised.” With that, she spun on her heels and sashayed toward the doors with Aaron watching every step she made.

  Well, with Simone around, I don’t think we have to worry about Porsche Moore anymore.

  The Bishop

  11

  I was enjoying what was left of the pork-chop sandwich my wife had prepared for my lunch when the intercom on my desk came to life. “Bishop Wilson!”

  I jumped up out of my chair when I heard my secretary’s voice. She scared the heck out of me, because I thought she was with my wife at the choir reception for Aaron Mackie. Truth is, I should have been there myself, but I’d been sidetracked waiting for that fool Smitty to show up. I’d asked him earlier in the day to stop by my office around noon so we could talk. I was hoping to talk some reason into
him and settle our differences before the joint meeting of the deacons’ board and the board of trustees, but he’d had me waiting for almost an hour and a half.

  “Yes, Tia?” I was half expecting her to tell me that Smitty had finally arrived. I didn’t know what kind of game he was playing, or why my supposed friend suddenly had such a vendetta, but there was no doubt in my mind that Smitty was determined to prevent Aaron’s hiring. And from what I’d been hearing behind the scenes, it went even further than that. If he had his way, there would be a second vote, where he’d have me thrown out on my ass.

  “Aaron Mackie is here to see you.”

  Hmm, now that was interesting. It looked like Smitty was going to stand me up. It also looked like the reception for Mackie was over earlier than I would have expected.

  “Oh, okay. You can send him in.”

  I quickly wrapped up my lunch and placed it in an empty drawer just as Mackie entered the room. I stood to greet him.

  “Mackie, how’d your reception with the choir go?” I took his hand and pulled him in close. I was starting to like this kid a lot. I released my embrace only to see a frown on his face.

  “Well, Bishop, to be honest, it was a little disappointing.”

  “Really? I’m sorry to hear that. There wasn’t a very big crowd down there, was there?”

  He shook his head as he spoke. “No, there really wasn’t.”

  “Have a seat and let’s discuss it. There are a few things I think you should know.” I was feeling a little embarrassed that I hadn’t spoken to him about the church’s troubles earlier. I guess I was hoping that things would work themselves out before he had to get wind of any of the strife. “I probably should have told you this earlier. The reason we’re having such low attendance is—”

  He raised his hand to interrupt me. “Hold on for a second, Bishop. You don’t have to worry about that. I can deal with the low-attendance issue. I just have to build the choir up. And building a choir is what you brought me here for, if I’m not mistaken.”

  I nodded. “Yes, Mackie, it is. If anyone can turn our choir around, I believe it’s you. From day one, I felt you were the man for the job.”

  “Bishop, I’m humbled by your praise, but what I need to know is why you had me quit my job and come all the way up here only to find out you didn’t have the authority to hire me. Why’d you do that to me?” He folded his arms angrily.

  Clearly, he was not a happy camper. I wouldn’t have been either if I were in his situation.

  I walked around to the front of my desk and sat down next to him. “Aaron, I don’t know what you were told, but I didn’t lie to you—at least not intentionally. You see, I do have the authority to hire you. I’ve hired every choir director this church has had for the past twenty years.”

  Now he was really looking confused. “Then what’s all this about a vote? If you’ve hired me, why are all these people telling me my job is up in the air until after the vote? And why are they upset about my salary?”

  “Who told you that your job was up in the air?” I felt a sudden urge to strangle whoever it was. On top of all the troubles our church was already facing, this whole thing was a headache I did not need.

  He didn’t reveal his source. “All I want to know is do I have a job or not?”

  “Relax, Mackie. I’ve got everything under control.” I placed what I hoped was a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You have a job. The vote is just a formality. All that talk is just a few deacons and trustees who are riled up because you’re going to be making more money than them, that’s all. Don’t worry. It won’t be long before you and your choir have everyone convinced that you’re worth every penny.”

  Aaron did not look convinced. His brow was furrowed in anxiety. “Doesn’t sound like it’s just a formality to me. You know, I’m here to help the church. I don’t want any drama.”

  “Don’t worry. There won’t be any.” I looked him straight in the eye to make sure he understood my sincerity. “And if by chance there is, I’ll make you one promise: If you don’t pass that vote, they’re not only going to lose a great choir director, but they’re going to lose a great pastor too.”

  “Are you serious?” His eyes were wide with disbelief. I almost couldn’t believe I’d said it myself. “You’d do that for me, Bishop?”

  “Mackie, a man is only as good as his word. I gave you my word. And if the church won’t back up my word after all these years, then there is no reason for me to be its pastor.” I got up from my chair and straightened out my suit jacket. “But with that being said, I don’t have any intention of going anywhere, so neither one of us is in jeopardy of losing our jobs.”

  He smiled. “I hope you’re right. I need this job. I don’t think I can get my old one back.”

  “I need mine too,” I said with a laugh. “I haven’t seen any help-wanted ads in the newspaper for pastors of megachurches.”

  Aaron stood up, reached over the desk, and shook my hand. “Thank you, Bishop. I feel a whole lot better now.”

  I walked him to the door, and when I opened it, lo and behold, there was Smitty. He was pacing in front of Tia’s desk, as if he were the one who’d been kept waiting two hours for our appointment.

  I wrapped my arm around Mackie’s shoulder and plastered a big grin on my face. “Deacon Smith, this is Aaron Mackie, our new choir director.” I could see Tia trying to hide her snickering behind her desk.

  “Pleased to meet you, Deacon.” Aaron offered him his hand, but Smitty only gave him a cold glare, ignoring the gesture.

  “You wanted to talk?” Smitty growled at me.

  “Sure did,” I replied matter-of-factly.

  He walked past Mackie and me and into my office.

  Mackie lifted an eyebrow and glanced at me.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s a legend in his own mind.”

  Mackie let out a sigh and nodded good-bye. Clearly he understood that Smitty was one of the people potentially standing in the way of his new job. He walked past Tia to leave.

  “Hey, Mackie,” I called after him. “Listen, I’ll catch up with you later. Maybe we’ll have dinner to celebrate your official in-statement.” I said it loud enough that Smitty could hear me.

  Back in my office, Smitty was sitting in the seat Aaron had just vacated. I walked over to my desk and sat in my leather chair, rocking a few times and staring pointedly at Smitty before I spoke.

  “So, how’s Maria, Smitty? Everything going all right between you two? Is your marriage on firm spiritual footing?” I steepled my fingers, putting on my “concerned preacher” pose to keep my true feelings in check.

  Smitty gave me the most confused look I’d ever seen. It was so easy to take him off his game. “Um, yes, my marriage is fine, but is that why you asked me here, to find out about my marriage?” He grabbed the arms of his chair as if he were about to push himself up. “‘Cause if it is, I don’t have time for this. I came here to talk church business.”

  “Sit down, Smitty!” I ordered. My hands were out of their nonconfrontational steeple pose and now balled into fists on my desk. “What kind of church business do you wanna talk about?”

  “Look, I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore, Bishop. We both know why I’m here.”

  “Oh, and why is that, Smitty?”

  “You want me to cut your little choir director friend a break, but it’s not happening. I want you to understand that we are not going to stand for you hiring this young man. We don’t have the funds.”

  “Do you really want to fight me on this, Smitty? I’ve beaten better men than you in that boardroom.” Suddenly I realized that if we continued our conversation in this manner, things were going to turn ugly. As mad as I was, I still had to remember that I was a spiritual leader—and that not too long ago, I considered this man a friend.

  I took my tone down a notch and said, “Heck, let’s be real about it: Most of those times it was you fighting alongside me. I don’t want to fight you, Smitty. Why don�
��t you go hear the kid sing? I think it will convince you we’re making the right choice.”

  My peacemaking attempt got me nowhere. He would not back down. “No, thanks. I’ll pass. And yes, I was fighting alongside you, but you’re not thinking rationally, so someone has to take you down a few pegs.”

  I cleared my throat. “What has gotten into you? We’re supposed to be friends.”

  “We are friends, T. K., but I have to do what’s best for the church—and having you as pastor and him as choir director is not in the church’s best interest.”

  So, the rumors were true. Smitty, for whatever reason, was trying to take me out. Well, so much for handling this with diplomacy. If my enemies were going to come gunning for me, I would have to use some ammunition of my own.

  “I’m not quite sure what that’s supposed to mean, Smitty, but I’ve got to do what I think is best for the church also.” I reached into my lower desk drawer and pulled out a folder. “After you read this, I think you will agree that I’m not going anywhere, and neither is he.”

  Smitty opened the folder and examined the contents, which caused him to gasp. Expressions of shock, recognition, and then fear rippled across his face.

  “Oh dear Lord, where did you get this?”

  “James Black knows the dirt on everybody in this church, Smitty. You know that. You do recall how close we are, don’t you? Well, I now have possession of all his files.” I leveled a steely gaze on him. “It sure would be a shame if this information leaked out, wouldn’t it?”

  “You wouldn’t,” he challenged.

  I smirked. “I wouldn’t hesitate.”

  “But … but you’re a pastor, a man of God. You wouldn’t stoop this low. This is blackmail. It’s goes against your moral code.”

  “Who are you to decide what my moral code is? And for the record, I’m still a man of God, just one with something hanging over your head. You didn’t really think I’d let you railroad me out of my job or push out a man after I gave him my word, did you? You should know me better than that. And a lesson for future reference: Before you come after any man, you should always be sure your own skeletons are in check.”