Tender to His Touch. Adrianne Byrd

pulled out of her reverie and, for a moment, looked like she was going to reject the offer, but then she apparently thought better of it. “Actually, I am a bit famished.”

      “Great.” He started up the car. “Have you ever been to Sambuca?”

      A sparkle returned to her eye. “I love that place.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s dinnertime on a Friday night—do you think we can get in without a reservation?”

      Lucius winked. “Leave it to me. I know a guy.”

      Sambuca, located in the heart of Buckhead, was one of Lucius’s favorite places to dine and dance the night away. On top of offering an eclectic American menu, the casual sophisticated atmosphere was hailed across A-town for the diversity of its live bands. On any given night, its patrons were treated to an evening of jazz, R&B or dance hits.

      It was a jazz night, and the low, seductive lighting immediately aided the seductive mood Lucius was aiming for. However, the crowded ring of waiting patrons didn’t bode well.

      “Yo, Lucius,” Spencer, the club’s host, greeted the moment he saw Lucius approach the host/hostess stand. “Long time no see. How have you been?”

      “Working, you know how it is.”

      Spencer tossed up his hands. “I hear you, man. Everybody is hustlin’.” He glanced over at Beverly and then gave Lucius a knowing wink. “Good to see you, um, testing the waters again.”

      Lucius caught his not-so-subtle meaning and struggled to keep his grin from turning sly. “How long is the wait?”

      Spencer glanced down at the crammed waiting list. “No reservation?”

      “Last-minute decision.”

      Spencer sucked in a long stream of air through his teeth and stroked this thinly trimmed goatee. “I don’t know. The walk-ins list is hitting about an hour wait time.”

      Lucius reached into his pocket and handed over a couple of folded bills. “How about now?”

      “Maybe thirty minutes?”

      Lucius added a couple of more bills. “And now?”

      “Fifteen minutes?”

      “You’re killing me.” He handed over two more Grant bills, bringing the grand total to three hundred dollars. “My final offer.”

      “Well, looky here. It appears I do have a table in section four available.”

      “Section one,” Lucius corrected, wanting a table closer to the stage.

      “That’s what I said,” Spencer said, grabbing two menus. “Follow me.”

      Lucius returned his arm around Beverly’s waist as he escorted her behind Spencer.

      The jazz band jammed John Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme” as they moved past the stage and then settled into to their u-shaped leather booths. He and Beverly sat pretty close at the bottom of the u.

      “Here you go,” Spencer said, handing over their menus. “Your waiter should be with you in a moment.”

      “Thanks, man,” Lucius said.

      “Heeey—” Spencer shrugged good-naturely “—what are friends for?”

      Lucius laughed, thinking about how much his friend just bilked him for.

      Spencer winked, signaling that everybody had a hustle these days. “Enjoy your evening.”

      He glanced over at Beverly and loved seeing the huge smile plastered on her face.

      She leaned over and spoke into his ear, “I love Coltrane.”

      Lucius perked at that statement. “Now what do you know about Coltrane?”

      “Please. My father was a jazz aficionado. Coltrane was like a god in our house.” She laughed, thinking about the number of Saturday mornings she woke to the melodious tune of ’Trane’s seemingly magical saxophone.

      Lucius nodded appreciatively. “A woman who knows her jazz. You’re starting to sound too good to be true.”

      Beverly couldn’t help but blush at the praise and then fell into easy conversation about their favorite jazz artists, which morphed into who were their favorite R&B artists and so on and so on. Throughout the meal, Beverly kept marveling over how easy it was to talk to Lucius. There was something about his smooth baritone that she found comforting. She was convinced that she would be content just listening to him read the phonebook.

      When another old favorite began to play, this time “What a Diff’rence a Day Makes,” Lucius adeptly read her face and offered her his hand. “May I have this dance?”

      Beverly tilted her head. “Yes, you may.”

      They stood together and waltzed over to the small dance floor before the band. As they’d done for most of the evening and now the night, the two glided into each other’s arms, their bodies fitting together perfectly.