Jezebel Koko Brown (best books to read non fiction txt) 📖

quickly building around herself. Hoping an influx ofcaffeine would demolish the wall completely, Celeste took a heartygulp. Even though the elixir burned her throat, she tipped the cupagain.

“While you freshen upand get dressed, I’m going to finish your breakfast. I’mhoping you like my biscuits. The recipe was passed down from my AuntJeannie. Your daddy loved them.”

“I’m sure I willas well,” Celeste murmured between sips.

“See you in a bit.”Maggie didn’t shut the door behind her, but Celeste was okaywith that. She was done with hiding.

***

“Name and talent?”

Celeste stared into thedarkness. She could just make out the silhouettes of two peoplesitting in the fourth row. Not entirely over her earlier anxiety,she wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts. “Celeste Newsome,sir. I’m a hoof…I’m a dancer.”

“How’s yourvoice?”

“I can carry a tune.”She didn’t have the pipes Ethel Waters and Lena Hornepossessed, but she wasn’t a complete wash.

“Where’s yoursheet music?”

Celeste glanced at thepianist stage right. “I don’t need it. I create my ownrhythm.”

A pregnant pause and a shiftin the silhouettes, greeted her reply and then, “When you’reready.”

Celeste walked to centerstage and placed her hands on her hips. As she plastered on a smile,she mentally counted to eight from five. During the second count ofeight, Celeste lifted her instep and tapped her right foot back andforth. Like most hoofers, she liked to start with a steady simmer,build into a rolling boil and then finish with a feverish crescendothat would leave her audience gasping for air.

She established her rhythmthen repeated it with her left foot. Now that both feet were on thesame page, she moseyed into a steady shuffle that increased into arapid-fire drill. The wood floors sang beneath her feet and stokedthe fire of adrenaline now pumping through her veins.

Fueled bythe natural high she experienced whenever she danced, Celestelaunched into her routine. She blended intricate footwork withdazzling barrel turns and dizzying chainés,which took her from one side of the stage to the other.

To the untrained eye, shemade everything look easy, effortless. But by the time she finishedwith a gut-wrenching floor split, sweat dotted her forehead and shewas laboring for air.

Still, her smile remained inplace as she slowly rose to her feet.

Celestewalked to stage front while the silhouettes conferredin darkness. Inwardly shaking, she maintained a cool façade. Waiting was the worst part of the audition.

“Thankyou for coming, Miss Newsome.”

“Thankyou for allowing me to audition.”Celeste bit her lip. Shesounded like a rookie. Over eager and a straight butt kisser, not aten year vet.

“We’vecome to a decision…can you clear your schedule for the nextsix months?”

Ecstatic, Celeste grinned. She’d made the show.

***

“Your young man’shere.”

Celeste glanced at theantique clock on her vanity. It was only five-thirty. He was early!

“Could you seat him inthe parlor and tell him I’ll be right down?”

“One step ahead ofyou,” Maggie replied. “I’ve enticed him with aglass of my homemade lemonade, so take your time getting ready. For aman that good looking, you want to make sure you put your best footforward.”

After Maggie closed the doorbehind her, Celeste sighed in relief. In spite of theiremployer-employee relationship, she’d fretted over what theolder woman thought of her entertaining a white man.

Celeste picked up a paddlebrush and ran it over her hair, smoothing the ebony waves. What ifshe hadn’t approved? Then it was her problem, Celeste mused.Trying to live up to someone else’s ideal was a wasted pursuitand she was beyond ready to live her life by her own terms.

Galvanized, Celeste pushedback from the dressing table and stood up. Dressed in only herstockings, chemise and tap pants, she ambled over to the closet andpulled down the floor-length, dove gray crepe dress she’dchosen for this evening.

Conservative in color, thedress had been cut on the bias causing it to cling to her curves likea glove.

So as not to detract fromits overall purpose, accentuating the woman’s figure, the onlyother embellishments were the tiny rhinestone buttons on the dress’sdolman sleeves.

Celeste turned to and fro,searching for flaws. Had she made the right choice? Was this one tooformal, too drab? Of course, she could choose something else, sinceshe had plenty of time.

Tempted, her gaze drifted toher wardrobe. But she quickly nixed the idea of swapping out heroutfit because she feared she’d wind up changing clothes allnight long. And she didn’t want that with a man like ShaneBrennan waiting for her downstairs.

Setting aside her doubts,Celeste pinned a fascinator embellish adorned with French gray laceand rhinestone rubies to her hair. Positioned slightly off center,the hairpiece added just the right amount of flair and boosted herwaning self-confidence.

Saved from a downwarddecline, and with no desire to backslide, Celeste snatched up hercape and gloves and made a quick escape.

As she descended the stairs,Celeste paused in midflight. Shane stood in her foyer, gazing into ahall mirror while fumbling with his tie. Her hand on the stair railtightened. Even under the glare of the hall light, he wasbreathtakingly beautiful.

His strong jawline lookedclean from a recent shave and his dark hair was swept back and mostlikely molded with pomade. Elegantly attired in a black suit and awhite dress shirt that contrasted vividly with his olive skin, helooked dashing. It took everything in her power not to lean on thebalustrade with a besotted sigh.

“Do you need anyhelp?” Maggie asked, snagging Shane’s attention andsnapping Celeste out of her reverie. While she recovered, Shanepivoted around with a sheepish grin.

“What do you think?”he solicited, tweaking his tie.

“You look fine, Mr.Brennan. What do you think, Miss Celeste?”

Caughtred handed, Celeste cheeks bloomed with heat. Oblivious to herplight, Shane turned around. Their gazes met, and a feverish rushswept through her. Celeste doubted she’d ever wanted a man asmuch as she wanted Shane Brennan.

“Do I pass themuster?” he asked, stepping forward.

Still tongue tied, Celestenodded. Even though she hadn’t uttered a word, he seemedsatisfied with the answer because he smiled as he lifted his hand,presenting her with a bouquet of gardenias.

“They’rebeautiful!” she exclaimed, marveling at the flower’ssnowy