The Choir Director by Carl Weber Page A

Mackie! Aaron Mackie?” A female voice snapped me out of my astonished admiration of the building.
    I looked up the stone stairs that led to the church’s entrance and saw a woman dressed very conservatively in a white blouse and navy blue skirt. Being an avid observer of beautiful women, it was obvious to me that her conservative look was an attempt to hide a stunning figure. I mean, it’s not every day you see a woman with D-cup breasts, a tiny little waist, and oversized round hips. I instinctively checked her left hand for a wedding or engagement ring, smiling as I filed away the observation that she didn’t have either. I loved a woman with a nice figure, so she was my kind of woman. The fact that she had baby-smooth charcoal skin with dimples on both sides of her face didn’t hurt matters either. A lot of brothers tended to ignore the real dark-skinned women, but I preferred them. I found them extremely attractive and, for the most part, dynamite in the bedroom. My motto was “the blacker the better,” and this sexy-behind woman put the
B
in “black.”
    “Are you Aaron Mackie?” She smiled, showing me the whitest teeth I’d ever seen.
    “Yes, I’m Aaron.”
    She walked down the stairs and I met her halfway. I don’t know what type of perfume she was wearing, but it made her smell like heaven.
    “Hi, Aaron. I’m Tia Gregory, the church’s administrative secretary.” She offered me her hand and gave me a firm shake. The only thing I could think was how soft her hands were. If her hands were that soft, how soft was the rest of her?
    “Nice to meet you, Tia. You look very familiar. Have we met before?” She tried to pull her hand back, and I held on to it a second or two longer than I should have. The look she gave me was far from pleasant.
Okay,
I told myself,
pull your mind out of the gutter.
I had work to do, and this wasn’t the first pretty sister I’d ever met.
    I let go of her hand. “Sorry about that. I was just admiring how soft your hands were.”
    “Uh-huh.” She took a step back, putting some space between us. “Bishop Wilson asked me to bring you to the choir practice room. We’re having a meet and greet there.”
    “Practice room? The choir has a practice room?” This was too good to be true.
    She gave me a condescending smirk but then put her professional face back on. “Oh, my bad. I forgot the bishop said you were from a small church down South. But yes, to answer your question, we do have a practice room for our choir.”
    She turned around and gestured for me to follow. I followed all right: followed those swinging hips of hers right up the stairs, around the side of the building, and to a pair of double doors in the back.
    “This is the street entrance to the practice room. There is also an entrance from inside the building. I’m sure they will give you keys to both after the vote tomorrow afternoon.”
    “What vote is this?”
    “Uh, nothing. I’m sorry. I misspoke,” she replied, looking flustered. She might as well have had
liar
written all over her face.
    “Tia, is there something I should know?”
    “Mr. Mackie, I’m sure the bishop has told you everything you need to know. Now, are you ready to meet your new choir?”
    “I’ve been ready for this moment my entire life.” Then under my breath, I said, “It’s showtime.” Sure, I talked a good game, but my heart was palpitating, and my hands were sweaty. I was nervous as hell. After Tia’s cryptic comment about some kind of vote, I had no idea what to expect.
    I inhaled deeply before pushing open the double doors and walking into what looked like a mini auditorium. I raised my right eyebrow and gave everyone in the room the patented Aaron Mackie smile.
    My eyes did a quick sweep around the room, and I was shocked to see that the large area was occupied by only a small number of people. There were about fifteen people present, all women except for two men in their fifties. I thought the megachurch would