Holiday Home Run - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,9

to keep track of had transpired before they left the open lobby area to make their way down the right wing, which housed the larger classrooms for the arts programs.

“You’re like the Pied Piper of Humboldt Park,” Julia had murmured.

A quick glance behind them gave credence to her claim. Along with those returning for the second rehearsal, his arrival had picked up enough new choir members to fill a baseball team’s starting lineup, and then some.

Unfortunately, the one person not responding to his Pied Piper call was the outgoing, confident, engaging woman standing before him.

He hoped to change that, if she gave him a chance.

So far, he was batting .000 when it came to learning more about her.

Their dinner conversation had remained solely on the event. Any time he’d tried to veer off topic, she expertly countered his maneuver.

Once the rehearsal had started, it’d been all bets off as her attention had rightly remained on the kids.

“Will you be singing with us?” Bernardo pointed to Ben, seated in one of the black plastic chairs near the guitarist and keyboardist.

Julia spun around to face him, her long, black hair fanning out behind her before settling to drape across her shoulders. The dark tresses contrasted with the cream material of her sweater dress, a color that heightened her silky smooth tan skin.

Confusion swam in her hazel eyes, her mouth opening and closing as if she was unsure how to respond.

Ben stood up, grasped the back of his chair, then moved it closer to the little boy’s. “I’ll already be on stage as the emcee. If you don’t mind, I’ll gladly join the parranda party.”

“Oye, he pro’bly don’t know the lenguaje,” a teen from the back of the room called out. “But maybe the songs in English, no? That’d be pretty cool.”

Swiveling in his chair, Ben scanned the group, searching for the kid who’d piped up. He spotted him when another boy reached out to give him a fist bump.

“Mira, no soy Latino, pero puedo hablar español. Mejor, puedo cantar,” Ben answered.

Several jaws dropped.

A few fists covered mouths that howled a “No way!” exclamation at Ben’s claim that while he might not be Latino, he could speak Spanish, and even better, sing.

But the shouted “wepa!” a cheer he’d heard many Puerto Rican teammates yell after a good play, made Ben grin.

The sound of Julia’s spiky boot heels tap-tap-tapping on the linoleum floor had him looking to his right. She laid a hand on his shoulder, then gifted him with a sweet and genuine smile of thanks, her glance warm, maybe even inviting.

“Sí,” she responded. “Ben can definitely speak our language. Now, whether or not he can sing might be another story.”

She punctuated her teasing challenge with a wink and, hot damn if he didn’t feel like he’d just won Pitcher of the Month.

Rico gave Ben a tough guy chin jut of approval that he acknowledged with a tilt of his head.

“Here.” Julia handed him a packet of papers with the song lyrics. “Looks like you’re going to need these.”

“Yep, and I guess that means I’ll also need to attend rehearsals with you.”

Something flared in Julia’s hazel eyes. Wariness or interest?

Before he could be sure, she blinked and it was gone. Replaced by the same cool confidence she’d shown at the meeting, then again later over dinner.

“Well then, you better get ready. I can be a hard taskmaster when the need arises.”

“No worries about me slacking,” he teased back. “I’m ready to hit this out of the park.”

She huffed out a short laugh. It sparkled in her eyes, giving her face an appealing glow of joy that made him want to make her laugh again and again.

Back-peddling to the center of the room again, she extended her arms out to her sides, like she meant to gather the group around her.

“All right, everyone, let’s start at the top of the song list and go through each one. For anyone who thinks they’d like to try a bomba”—she pointed at those who’d raised their hands earlier—“think about what you might say over the next week. Instead of having you make up your words on the fly like we normally do, for this occasion I’m going to need to give your verse the okay beforehand.”

A few grumbled about the lack of spontaneity, but settled down once the keyboardist played a few bars of the first song.

Rico tapped out the beat on the plenera hand drum and they started with what Julia had told him was a