When i picture the jazz singer in this chapter the beautiful South African lyric soprano, Pumeza Matshikiza comes to mind. Isn't she breathtaking??? (Pic below)
Chapter 14Tonight's music act, the Jazz Funk Trio has set up their equipment near the dance floor. Someone has dimmed the lights, signaling the start of the first half of their set.
There's three members that make up the band, two guys and a girl. The girl's on vocals. She's a tall, thin woman with a big, funky Afro. She's dressed in a red dress with thin spaghetti straps. She's stunning.
She introduces the band and people clap. Then the voices in the room taper off, and the music begins. The soft sound of a lazy saxophone snakes through the room, followed by percussions and the low beat of an african drum. It's a fusion between modern jazz and African funk.
The singer in the red dress begins to sing. Her voice is seductive, husky and low. Damn, that's sexy!
Barry hasn't exaggerated. This band is the bomb. There is some clapping and a few cat whistles from the audience. It seems like everyone approves of the music winding it's way through the room.
The Jazz Funk Trio is an instant hit.
The night settles into a sexy, sultry mood. The light from candles on tables flicker over faces wrapped in mystery. People sway to the music, sip wine and blow clouds of smoke into the dim atmosphere.
Sips and I are enraptured by the music from the very start. We find ourselves tapping and swaying to the rhythm and by the time the third song starts, we are on the dance floor, grinding our bodies to the strains of the saxophone and the smoky voice of the singer.
My body melts into Sip's. He's a good dancer, having a feel for music. He leads and I am comfortable with his pace. Dancing is effortless for me. My movements are fluid. It is the one thing I don't feel clumsy doing. I feel as light as air, as fluid as water.
Sips has his hand on the small of my back, gently caressing me through the fabric of my top. It's been some time since I've danced like this, but in a while I find my body twisting and contorting, and responding to his lead.
We dance for at least five songs. By the fourth one I find that we have a small audience watching us. I cannot help but smile at this. I know that Sips and I make a striking couple on the dance floor and I love it. I've had two beers by now, which have helped relax me and not worry too much about the stares we are getting. At the end of the fifth song we return to our table out of breath and glowing with sweat.
I need a drink. Sarah brings a tray with four shooters on it. They are Bob Marley's which I like.
"These are from Barry," she shouts over the music. "He said you both will need this after that little show you both just put on."
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