you mind if we postpone it to another time?”
Eyes narrowing, Dwight led Chandra into the entryway. He cradled her face between his palms. “Aren’t you feeling well?”
“I’m well. It’s just that I stopped to eat a little while ago. I’m certain Mama would appreciate you taking her to a restaurant with dining and dancing.”
“You know your mother was quite the dancer in her day.”
“She still is,” Chandra said. Roberta had danced nonstop at Belinda and Griffin’s wedding. She kissed her father’s cheek. “I have to go online and look for a job.”
“I thought you were going to take some time off before you go back to teaching.”
“I’d really like to, Daddy, but I have to buy some furniture before I move into Denise’s co-op.”
“You should talk to Belinda before you buy anything. She told your mother that she has a buyer for her house, and expects to close on it before Halloween.”
Myles had stayed in Belinda’s house during the summer, and then returned to Pittsburgh where he taught constitutional law at Duquesne University School of Law. Despite the uncertainty in the real estate market, Belinda was fortunate enough to find a buyer for her house.
Chandra couldn’t see herself purchasing property at this time in her life. Although she’d told her parents she hadn’t planned to live overseas again, she still wasn’t certain of her future.
“I’ll call her later,” she said to her father. “You and Mama have fun, and if you two can’t be good, then be careful,” she teased.
He chuckled and was still chuckling as she climbed the staircase. She walked into her bedroom, slipped out of her shoes and blazer and then sat down at the desk. Turning on her laptop, Chandra searched the Philadelphia public schools Web site for openings. Surprisingly, she found ten—eight of which were in less-than-desirable neighborhoods. Her heart rate kicked into high gear. Instead of substituting she would apply for a full-time position. The one school that advertised for a Pre-K, third and fifth grade teacher was about a mile from Denise’s co-op and close to Penn’s Landing and to public transportation.
Chandra was so engrossed in copying down the names of the schools, their addresses and principals that she almost didn’t hear her cell phone. She retrieved it from her handbag, glancing at the display. “Hello, cousin.”
“Hello, yourself. When did you get back?”
“Yesterday. I called you because I had the pleasure of meeting Preston Tucker today.” She held the phone away from her ear when a piercing scream came through the earpiece. “Denise! Calm down.”
“You’ve got to tell me everything, and I do mean everything, Chandra.”
Settling down on the bed, she told her cousin about leaving her portfolio in the taxi and Preston e-mailing her to let her know he’d found it. She was forthcoming, leaving nothing out when she related the conversation between her and the playwright, including that he wanted her to work with him to develop a vampirelike character for a new play.
“Are you going to do it?” Denise asked, her sultry contralto dropping an octave.
“That’s why I called you. What do you know about him?”
“He’s brilliant, but you probably know that. And he’s never been married. There were rumors a little while back that he was engaged to marry an actress. But the tabloids said she ended it. He rarely gives interviews and manages to stay out of the spotlight. I’ve seen every one of his plays, and if I were given the chance to work with him, I’d jump at it.”
“I’m flattered that he asked for my help, but why, Denise? Why me?”
“Maybe he likes you.”
Chandra shook her head.
“I don’t think so.”
“What did you say to him?”
“What are you talking about, Denise?”
“You had to say something to Preston for him to ask you to develop a character for his next play.”
A beat passed. “I told him that all his plays were dark and brooding, and he admitted that he was dark and brooding. I suppose when I said brooding works if he were a vampire, he took it as a challenge.”
“There you go, Chandra. You just said the operative word—challenge. Preston Tucker’s bound to have an ego as large as the Liberty Bell, so he expects you to put your money where your mouth is.”
“It’s either that or…”
“Or what?” Denise asked when she didn’t finish her statement.
“Nothing.”
Chandra had said nothing, although there was the possibility that Preston had read her journal. He hadn’t mentioned that he’d read it, and she didn’t want to ask because she didn’t want to know if he had. The only way she would be able to find out was to work with him.
“I’m going to do it, Denise. I’m going to help the very talented P. J. Tucker develop a vampire character for his next play.”
“Hot damn! My cousin’s going to be famous.”
“Yeah, right,” Chandra drawled. “I’ll let you know how it turns out.”
“You better,” Denise threatened. “I’d love to chat longer, but I have a board meeting in ten minutes.”
“Are you coming up to Paoli this weekend?”
“I plan on being there. I’ll see you in a couple of days. Later.”
“Later,” Chandra repeated before she ended the call.
She sat, staring at the sheers billowing in the cool breeze coming through the open windows. To say she was intrigued by Preston Tucker was an understatement. Something told her that he didn’t need her or anyone’s help with character development. Did he, as Denise claimed, like her?
Chandra shook her head as if to banish the notion. She knew she hadn’t given off vibes that said she was interested in him. After her yearlong liaison with Laurence Breslin she had sworn off men. Whenever she affected what could best be described as a “screw face” most men kept their distance. The persistent ones were greeted with, “I’m not interested in men,” leaving them to ponder whether she didn’t like them or she was only interested in a same-sex liaison. She liked men—a lot. It was just that she wasn’t willing to set herself up for more heartbreak.
She went back to the task of researching schools. All she had to do was update her résumé and submit the applications online. Flicking on the desk lamp, she scrolled through her old e-mails until she found the one from Preston, her fingers racing over the keys:
Hi Preston,
I’m available to meet with you Friday. Please call or e-mail to confirm.—CE
She didn’t have to wait for a response when his AIM popped up on the upper left corner of the screen.
PJT: Hi CE. Friday is good with me. What time should I pick you up?
CE: You don’t have to pick me up. I’ll take a taxi to your place.
PJT: No, CE. You tend to lose things in taxis.
CE: You didn’t have to go there.
PJT: Sorry.
CE: Apology accepted.
PJT: Will call tomorrow to let you know when driver will pick you up.
CE: O.K. I’ll see you Friday. Meanwhile, think of a name for your vampire.
PJT: He’s not my vampire, but yours. So, you do the honor.
CE: O.K. Good night.