"He was one of the greatest, wasn't he?"
"I know. I couldn't believe it when I heard he died. It's so nice that Vince and Keira used that as their wedding song."
Nathan Hughes desperately did not want to drive tonight, and not because he was tired. It was difficult to focus on the road while being aroused by this beauty next to him, whose accent turned him on something fierce.
"My dad was a huge fan of his--had all his records."
"Your dad liked Al Jarreau?"
"Yeah," replied Teresa Taylor, as she brushed back her reddish-blonde hair in the passenger-side mirror. "He worshiped all those jazz guys--Herbie Hancock, John Coltrane, George Benson. But he loved Al in particular."
"Wow."
"The thing he used to love playing the most was the 'Breakin' Away' album--he almost wore the thing out! He just thought Al was the fucking man."
"Your dad had good taste!"
"Thank you. He's the reason I became a music teacher."
Nathan smiled. "I like that. We don't appreciate teachers enough. My mom was a teacher--she taught English."
"Cool!"
Nathan just wanted to pull over to look at her--her glowing and freckled white skin, her blue-green eyes, her cute nose piercing, her lovely smile. It was all he wanted to do. She must have a boyfriend, he thought, or a girlfriend if she was gay, some partner who couldn't make it to the wedding tonight. She was just so fucking beautiful.
"Can I ask you a question? It's embarrassing, a little, but..."
"Sure."
"Where do you come from? You have a lovely accent, and I first thought it was British, but it seemed a little different than the usual British one..."
"Oh, I get that all the time from you Americans!"
"Sorry."
"I'm from Australia. I moved here about seven years ago."