Blue's Beauty (Bluette Men Series Book 1) Read online

  Blue’s Beauty

  bluette men series Book one

  Bailey West

  Copyright © 2016 by Bailey West

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Blue’s Beauty/ Bailey West. -- 1st ed.

  Thank You…

  I would like to thank my Helper, Comforter, Advocate, Intercessor, Counselor, Strengthener and Standby, Yahweh. Without you I am nothing, but through you, I can do all things that I am anointed and ordained to do. Thank you for the gift of creativity because I am most like you when I am creating.

  My Husband who swore up and down that this book was about him…babe, it’s not okay? I love you, though!

  My four beautiful flowers that Yahweh planted in my life but allowed me to water, nurture and grow-My children. All four are different. All four are special. All four are amazing human beings! I love you!

  MDD!!! Thanks for being my encourager and my editor and proofreader!

  RE-Nay! I couldn’t have done this without you! Thank you.

  To the other authors who encouraged me and helped me…Thank you! It’s because of you that I am!

  To everyone that will read this book…Thank you! I hope you enjoy my imaginary friends as much as I do!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Roman

  I remember the first time I saw her. When she entered the room everything around me became blurry. Voices and sounds became white noise. She was the only thing in the room in focus. I held my breath watching her, waiting for her to at least look my way. I watched her laugh and talk with her friends, completely oblivious to my existence, hoping that she would look my direction. Her sandy brown hair with blonde highlights was long and straight. It stopped well below her shoulder bone, and she wore a middle part framing her round light brown face perfectly.

  “Blue, did you hear me?”

  My younger brother Ezekiel’s voice slowly brought everything around me back into focus.

  We were sitting together with our cousin Paxton at the lunch table in our high school cafeteria. Paxton and I were just beginning our junior year of high school, and Ezekiel was a freshman. As usual, we were sitting at a corner table where we could see all the activity without being a part of it. Most people didn’t venture to this far corner of the room, so we were virtually undisturbed.

  “Huh?”

  I was still awestruck by this beautiful creature that just walked into my high school lunch room.

  She was wearing light denim shorts that stopped mid-thigh. She had on a pink t-shirt with a denim vest that matched her shorts.

  “I said we have to be at church before 7 o’clock, or they won’t pay us for playing at the revival tonight,” Ezekiel said slowly enunciating every word.

  I am the organ player at Abundant Blessings Church we like to call it ABC. I was raised in the church. My dad is the Pastor; Pastor Roland Bluette Jr. and before him my grandfather; Roland Bluette Sr., was the Pastor.

  Surprisingly, I don’t have stories about being raised by a strict preacher. My father was very liberal in allowing me to explore life. I could go to school dances, house parties and play sports, unlike some other PKs (preacher’s kids) that I know. Some preachers keep their children locked away never allowing them to explore life. They scare them by teaching about a judgmental God that will kill you if you do anything other than go to church and pray. They tell scary stories like the one about the church girl who went to the club for the first time. Someone started shooting, and she was the only one that died that night. I think every church kid has heard that story. Usually, once those kids get a taste of freedom, they quit church and don’t look back. My father didn’t raise us that way. He always said I trust you until you give me a reason not to. I took that to heart and tried to stay out of trouble. Having his trust was crucial to me. Ezekiel was less compliant than me. He wasn’t always in trouble, but trouble wasn’t a foreign concept to him. He would always say it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. That was his life’s mantra. Paxton stayed on my father’s good side as well. He is my cousin, but my parents adopted him when we were teenagers, so we refer to him as our brother.

  My dad is the reason why we love music. On Saturday mornings during our ‘Bluette Men Time.' We would sit in my dad’s home office and talk about everything from politics to women. We would also listen to all genres of music. My father would point out things in the songs like a faint bell in the background, drum riffs or the different parts of harmony. He is a classically trained trumpeter. My brothers and I were encouraged to listen to all music from rap to classical. We would listen to old R&B, and my dad would reminisce about his youth, growing up in church and living with my grandfather. He said the reason why he is liberal with us is because he wanted us to be well-rounded; balanced. My grandfather who founded ABC was so focused on building the church that he never had a lot of time to be a father.

  My dad grew up with two younger siblings. My Uncle Nigel, Paxton’s father, and my aunt, Thelma. While my dad and Thelma followed in my grandfather’s footsteps, my uncle Nigel did not. He rebelled against everything that my grandfather tried to instill in him. My father believes that if his dad would have spent a little more time with him and his siblings, maybe Nigel would have turned out differently.

  My father made sure he made time to be with the church and with his family. During our men time, my dad taught Zeke and me the basics of the piano. I was around seven years old when I started playing. He saw that I wanted to learn more, so he sent me to some of the most sought-after piano teachers in the country to learn my skill. Ezekiel didn’t have the same interest in playing the piano, so he learned how to play the drums. I’ve spent summers in different cities learning from the best in the field. All of my instructors brought something different to the table. My spectrum of learning is broad. I’ve interned with orchestras, and I’ve sat in on country music recordings. I learned how to read music, but I also play by ear. I can hear a song once and can play it back on the piano. I don’t brag it’s just what I love to do. It’s my calling and the paid gigs I take like this revival down at Light of New Jericho Interdenominational Church of Jesus the Son of God (yeah we definitely go overboard naming our churches) was the icing on the cake.

  “Yeah, yeah I heard you” I responded to Zeke with my eyes still glued to this lovely specimen. As much as I look forward to Taco Tuesdays for lunch, I couldn’t take another bite until I got a closer look at her.

  “I will be right back.”

  I confidently strolled over to her table. I stopped behind her, and I tapped her on her shoulder.

  “Excuse me.”

  She turned around with a look on her face like who is bothering me but once we made eye contact her face softened.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met. Since I’m on the student welcoming committee, I wanted to make sure to come over and introduce myself.”

  “I ain’t know nothing about no student welcoming committee,” one of the girls at her table said.

  “Do you know everything that happens at this school, Benita?”

  I had been in school with Benita since kindergarten, and she always finds a way to throw salt in somebody’s game.

  “No, but I know it ain’t no welcoming committee,” she ro
lled her eyes and smacked her lips together.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Benita! Am I talking to you? No, so mind your business. This is an A and B conversation so C your way out!”

  The new girl turned completely around and to my amazement she was even more stunning up close. Her almond shaped eyes were innocent and bright. Her little nose was perfectly placed, and she had freckles! They were small chocolate colored dots scattered on her cheeks right under her eyes and across the bridge of her nose. How adorable!

  “I’m Roman, Roman Bluette but my friends call me Blue and you are?”

  I extended my hand. She accepted, and we shook hands.

  “I’m Michaela, Michaela Drummond. I’m new to this school, but I know who you are Roman Bluette.”

  “Blue,” I quickly corrected her.

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “I hope so, Kay.”

  I decided that would be my name for her.

  “So we are friends, and I get a nickname?” She raised one eyebrow waiting for me to answer.

  “Yep, that’s how it works,” I smiled.

  “Are you playing or you really don’t know who I am?”

  I looked at her and started to panic on the inside. Did I know her from somewhere? Did I ask her for her number before and forgot? Should I know her name?

  “Should I know who you are?”

  “My dad has preached at your Dad’s church several times.”

  I took a good look at her and realized I did know her. She watched me as the proverbial light bulb went off in my head.

  “Wait. Your Pastor Drummond’s daughter? The little girl with the big voice?”

  Definitely not little anymore. We called her the little girl with the big voice because every time her dad would come to our church to preach he would bring his choir. The choir could sing but when Kay led the song the church would go bananas! She had such a big voice for such a small person. I never knew her name, and I hadn’t seen her in about a year. Wow has she grown!

  “Yes, I sing a little,” she responded sheepishly.

  “A little? Are you kidding me? You can blow! Sing something for me!”

  “Are you joking? Right now?”

  “Yes, right now.”

  She thought about it for a minute.

  “Nope.”

  “Nope?”

  “No. Why do you want me to sing?” She tilted her head to the side and put her hands on her hips.

  I’m so used to girls, especially church girls, falling over themselves for me.

  “Because you can?” I was asking a question because I didn’t have an answer to her question.

  “No. Because you thought that since I am a little naïve church girl, and you gave me a little nickname that I was going to be impressed by you. Try something else.”

  She turned her back to me and started talking to her friends. I was confused. I usually gave girls especially church girls a little attention and they were putty in my hands. Humph…guess I will try something else.

  I tapped her on her shoulder. She turned around looking annoyed.

  “What Bluette?”

  “Dang. Why are you so angry?”

  “Angry? I’m not angry, I just don’t have time to be playing around with some little boy that thinks he’s about it because he is dating at least three girls that I personally know of.”

  I laughed at how she rolled her neck when she talked. She’s cute. I was a little offended by the boy reference, though.

  “First of all, I’m a man. Secondly, I don’t know where you are getting your information from, but I am not dating anyone. I’m trying to get to know you.”

  I reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.

  There is always someone claiming to be dating me, but I have never asked a girl to be my girlfriend or gave any indication that I was serious about her. I hung out with a couple of girls. I’ve been out to dinner and maybe a movie with some, but girlfriend, not Roman Bluette. She has me mixed up.

  “Bye, Roman.”

  She turned back to her friends and continued her conversation. This girl presented a challenge. I loved a challenge.

  ***************************

  I started speaking to her every day at school. At first, she would ignore me. After several weeks, I could see her resolve begin to fade because when I would speak to her, she would smile and wave or say hello.

  After she had smiled at me consistently for a couple of weeks, I tried my luck with holding a conversation with her again.

  “What’s up Kay?”

  I found her at her locker between classes.

  “Hey Blue,” She smiled.

  I leaned against the locker next to hers.

  “I’m still waiting for you to sing something for me.”

  “Are we back to that again?”

  She closed her locker and started down the hall to her class. I followed her even though my class was in the opposite direction.

  “Yeah, I want to hear you sing.”

  “Why don’t you sing me something?”

  “I don’t sing. I play the organ.”

  She stopped walking and looked up at me.

  “How about you play something for me, and I will sing something for you.”

  Are my ears deceiving me? Did she finally agree to sing for me?

  “Cool. We can do that today. I will meet you in the choir room after school. Mr. Smith lets me hang out after school and practice on the piano. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  I extended my hand so that we could shake on it. Kay obliged and shook my hand.

  She walked away. I stayed in the same spot very pleased with myself. I couldn’t wait for school to be over. I kept looking at the clock, it felt like time was going so slowly. Once the final bell rang, I was out of my seat so fast and down the hall to wait on Kay in the choir room.

  She sauntered in about fifteen minutes after I did. She looked pretty with her hair straightened. She had on a yellow dress with buttons down the front with brown sandals. She put her backpack down and walked over to the piano where I was sitting.

  “I see you made it.”

  “I thought about not coming, but I decided to go ahead and come so you can move on with your life and stop bugging me about it.” She smiled a fake smile.

  “You go first.” I knew that she would argue, but she didn’t.

  She closed her eyes and sang a traditional hymn:

  Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father;

  I listened to her sing the first bar and started to accompany her on the piano.

  There is no shadow of turning with thee.

  Thou changest not, thy compassions they fail not,

  As Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.

  By the time she got to the end of the refrain; Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me! A few people had gathered in the room to listen to her sing. I had almost forgotten we were in the choir classroom at school. She took us to church with her rendition of that song. Her soprano voice was only rivaled by singers like Faith Evans and Kim Burrell. She was the truth!

  She opened her eyes to the sound of a small group of people clapping. She smiled and lowered her head in a humble manner. She deserved the applause. Her voice is remarkable.

  “See! I knew you could blow! You sound even better than the last time you were at our church!”

  “Thank you, Blue. You are very gifted on the piano.”

  “Thanks Kay.”

  After that day, we started hanging out and within a few months, we began dating. She told me that she had a crush on me since she was a little girl. She said she never approached me or told me that she liked me because I was a ‘lady’s man.’ She didn’t want to be one of the sad girls on the discard pile. That was funny to me because most of the people that she thought I dated, I didn’t even know.

  I’d never paid a lot of attention to her before, but now I was fascinated by her. I learned that she transferred into our school because her parents d
idn’t like the level of education she was receiving at her old school. Her parents drove nearly 30 minutes every day to get her to our school. I quickly volunteered to be the one to get her home in the evenings. Her parents knew my parents, so they agreed until she got her own car then she drove herself.

  We became inseparable, we were best friends. She was in the advanced and acapella choirs at school, and she was on the track team. She was one of the fastest girls in the school. She ran the 4X1, 4X2 and the open 100. She was the 2nd leg of the relay races and was always leaving the other teams in her dust. I would try to attend all her track meets even though sometimes they were an all-day affair. I would bring my earphones and listen to new music that I would be required to play soon, or I would work on homework until her event.

  When it was time for her event to begin, she would go into this zone. She told me that her focus wouldn’t be on anything except getting across the finish line first. I could see the determination on her face every time she raced. I admired her drive and tenacity to be the best. I made sure I was the loudest person cheering her on and always made sure to tell her how well she performed even if she didn’t think so. She still holds the school record for the fastest female in the open 100.

  She was so down to earth but didn’t take a lot of crap. She epitomized the saying: don’t take my meekness for weakness. She could be a very patient and kind person, but she didn’t handle people disrespecting her, namely other females.

  She came with me one night to one of my church gigs. One of the girls in the audience kept trying to get my attention. I noticed her, but I played it off knowing my girl was there with me. This girl was cute. She had fair skin, her hair was in an asymmetrical bob. The front was long, and rested on her shoulders. Every time I would look her way she would wink at me with her light-colored eyes. I couldn’t tell what color they were, but they were light. Kay didn’t say anything about it, so I thought she missed it. I didn’t acknowledge the girl flirting because I was down for my girl but I’m not going to lie, it was flattering. After the church service was over, I was packing up my keyboard while Kay sat on the pew next to me waiting for me to get finished. Ole’ girl from the audience made her way over to me. She glanced at Kay sitting on the pew and positioned herself so that she was standing with her back to Kay but facing me.