Another Woman's Man by Shelly Ellis Page A

they were done talking about this.
    â€œWhat changed?” he persisted.
    â€œI’m pleading the Fifth on that one.”
    â€œWe’re not in court, Dawn.”
    â€œSo stop with your line of questioning.”
    â€œI’m only making casual conversation.”
    â€œThis is pretty damn heavy for ‘casual conversation,’ ” she snapped.
    â€œAre you always this evasive?”
    â€œAre you always so persistent? ”
    He gave a charming smile that made her a smidge less pissed off. “I prefer to think of it more as curious than persistent.”
    â€œI bet you do.”
    â€œSo come on! Tell me. What changed for you? What made you rule out rich guys?”
    She relented. “Nothing, Xavier. I just want to focus on my work. It’s hard to do both . . . serving two masters and all that.”
    â€œSo no more time for rich men, then?”
    â€œNo more time for men period .”
    This time his eyes darted up from his drawing pad. He stared at her for several seconds. “I see,” he murmured quietly.
    The class ended half an hour later. Dawn was shocked when a few of the students came to the front of the class and said how much they enjoyed today’s lesson. A few even gave her a hug.
    Maybe pimple-faced teenagers aren’t so bad, she thought with mild amusement as she packed her things. But she couldn’t say the same for Xavier Hughes. All day long he had made her feel uneasy. His questions toward the end of class were the icing on the cake of awkwardness between them.
    Dawn walked through the community center’s doors and pulled her keys from her purse. She was only a few feet from her car when she heard the pounding footsteps of someone running up behind her. She turned and found Xavier striding toward her.
    â€œDawn! Wait up!”
    â€œWhat?” she asked, frowning up at him.
    â€œI wanted to . . . to catch you,” he said between huffs of breath. “You never answered my question from earlier. I’m serious about that offer. I’d love for you to volunteer and teach here. We offer art classes about twice a month. Would you be interested?”
    Me? A teacher?
    The kids had made the experience at least partially fun today, but she couldn’t imagine doing this all the time, let alone seeing Xavier twice a month. She didn’t know if she could stand that torture.
    â€œXavier, I’m not—”
    â€œYes, you are,” he insisted. “If you’re going to say that you’re not a teacher, I beg to differ. I saw it today.”
    She shook her head. “But I don’t know if I can put the time into—”
    â€œIt’s only two hours a weekend, two to three times a month, if you count the occasional field trip. I understand being busy. I’m general counsel for a Fortune 500 company. I’m busy too. And I get that you want to focus on your work, that you don’t have time for men. You’re an independent woman. Point made. But this . . . this doesn’t take a lot of effort or time on your part, and as long as these kids are here, they aren’t on the streets getting into trouble.”
    Damn, he’s laying it on thick. Now he was making her feel like her refusal was the same as neglecting needy kids.
    She pursed her lips.
    â€œTry it for a month. See if you like it.”
    She contemplated his offer for a bit. “Fine,” she finally said, wanting to kick herself even as she uttered the word.
    He grinned. “You mean it? You’ll do it?”
    â€œ Yes! I said I would!” She unlocked her car door and shooed him away. “Now leave me alone. This independent woman has about twenty errands she has to do today, and it’s already almost two.”
    He nodded, still smiling. “Sure, don’t let me stop you.” He immediately stepped forward and opened the car door for her. “Sorry. You may be an independent woman, but I’m still an