“We’ll send the rest of your party up when they get here,” the waitress tells me as she fills one of my glasses with water. She walks away, and I nervously gulp the cool liquid as I pray that my notoriously tardy father arrives before Maddox.
I’m so nervous that I don’t even ponder her story. I don’t spare a moment to think about my waitress’s life or whether she likes her job or not. Instead, I’m clasping my hands on my lap and looking around the restaurant like I’m interested in the small details when I’m not. I probably look insane the way my gaze flits nervously from one corner of the room to the other as I cross my legs and smooth my hair.
My phone rings just as I hear someone climbing the steps. Maddox appears, and I look down at my phone. Dad.
No.
“Dad? You on your way?” I’m hoping Maddox isn’t near enough to hear the panic in my voice.
“I’m sorry, Em. Last-minute meeting with Asa. She only wants to speak to me.” He covers the phone and I can hear muffled yelling. “Do me a favor and have lunch with Maddox. Get to know him. He’s a nice guy.”
I know he’s stressed but as Maddox smiles and sits across from me, I panic even more.
“Fine,” I snap. I immediately regret it.
“Emerson Lexa Kingsley.” I close my eyes, flashing back to the days when hearing my full name would scare the crap out of me. I can’t afford to be affected by his chastisement because I can see Maddox in front of me and my mind wanders.
“Everything’s fine. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up and reach for my water, only to knock it over and onto Maddox’s lap.
“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry,” I squeak out as I grab my napkin and hand it to him. There was no way I’d put my hand near his crotch. That would take this situation from bad to worse.
He laughs pretty loudly and I cover my face, my elbows on the table. A wet crotch brings out his sense of humor, apparently, and I’m trying not to die.
“You don’t swear often, huh?” he asks, and I peek between my fingers to see him dabbing at his pants.
“Not out loud.” Then again, a lot of the things I say internally never get to feel the satisfaction of being heard. I’m a safe of unspoken thoughts.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to critique your swearing. It just sounded a little foreign to you.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry.”
He’s stopped drying his pants when our waitress walks up to the table, and I finally take a look at the lunch menu, deciding quickly what I want.
“Mr. Kingsley won’t be joining us. I’ll have the Ricotta Gnocchi,” I say, “and another glass of water.”
She smiles as she refills my glass and waits for Maddox’s order.
“Uh, the USC Burger is fine. Medium rare, please. And water as well.”
She leaves and my polite smile fades. I’m sitting here beside a man with a wet lap. A man I know so much and yet so little about. I have to make sure I don’t give away my stalker tendencies. I can’t slip up and mention that the last time he wore that sweater, he was romancing a woman whom I later saw modeling for Victoria’s Secret.
“I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I know you from somewhere,” he says as I sip my water without spilling a drop.
“We shared a cab,” I tell him and he taps his lips. I drag my eyes away from him and look around the restaurant again, careful to make sure I look natural even though I feel anything but. He seems more and more obsessed with trying to place me but if he did, he’d run away as quickly as he could.
“Before that. And then Mr. Kingsley said you asked about me….”
“The day we shared the cab,” I offer and I sound clipped, even to my own ears.
I can feel myself making like a turtle and crawling back into my shell, but my shell was nothing against Maddox and certainly nothing against the universe. It wouldn’t protect me, I was learning, because circumstance propelled us into each other’s lives whether we wanted it or not.
“Is that guy you’re always with…Hollis. Are you two dating?”
I can’t help the confused expression that crosses my face. What a random and personal question.
“Would you be asking that question if my father were here?” I ask him, ready to hear him verbally fumble or remain quiet the way I do under pressure. Can I not be the bumbling fool for once?
“Probably not,” he answers without qualm. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t ask some other time when he’s not around.” He’s smiling and I don’t know how to react to it.
“Why?”
“Why ask?”
I nod. My heart isn’t telling me to touch him anymore. Ba-dum, ba-dum, li-sten, li-sten.
“Because I want to know.” Apparently it’s his turn to be stingy with his words.
“Why?”
“He’s your assistant, right? So, dating him would be against company policy. I ran into the two of you at the movies. Something’s there.” The once charming smile now feels insincere as I run through thoughts in my mind. Dating, company policy, me and Holly, him and…everyone?
It’s in that moment that I realize I don’t want to have lunch with this man any more than he wants to have lunch with me.
“Enjoy your lunch, Mr. Bailey.” I’m about to toss my napkin and stand when he speaks.
“You aren’t curious as to why I’m asking?”
“No.” I only offer up that one word, which sounds just like a lie ought to.
“Yet you’re still here, Emerson.”
I want to leave, but it’s the first time he’s said my name and it sounds so beautiful coming from his mouth. Those lips that seem a little too feminine, a little too full for his face, they make my name sound like I could be a beautiful person.
So I stay. Because damn it, he’s an enigma and I am curious.
“Go on,” I mumble. He doesn’t need me to tell him to, but his smile widens and he leans a little closer, his fingers loosely interlocked under his chin.
“I guess I’m wondering just how strict the company policy is.”
I sit back and the waitress is headed toward us, a tray in her hand. As she nears, I see a scar on her hand and I wonder how she got it. Maybe she climbed a fence as a child. Maybe she got it recently trying to fight for her life. Or in the kitchen downstairs. I think about all of these things because I can’t bear to sit here and listen to Maddox ask me about company policy so he can dabble in the company’s prospects. The suggestive sound of his statement makes me think he’s already begun planning and it’s a dagger to my chest. This man—this stranger—could hurt me far worse than anyone I let myself come into contact with in the last three years. The kicker is he’s not even trying.
In my wildest fantasies, Maddox would like me. He could even love me. Find me attractive. But as I’m sitting here I’m figuring out that the Maddox who lives in my brain will never truly exist, and the Maddox who is actually beside me might be a womanizing prick.
I thank the waitress for the food and then I get up and I leave.
I ignore Maddox’s protests.
This time when he says my name, it doesn’t sound as beautiful.
It sounds more like me.
“Emerson!” My father is headed toward my office, and I’m certain the look on his face has everything to do with the man I left sitting at a restaurant alone with a wet crotch. I’m not ready to face the music yet as he walks in and closes the door.
“Dad,” I say in greeting, and he doesn’t respond as he sits in one of my chairs. What a way to start this conversation.
“Do you know how I’ve gotten where I am?”
I brace myself for this lecture. It’s going to be long and drawn out and I have work that needs to be done, but if I feign innocence and agree with everything, maybe I’ll be out of here before seven tonight.
“Hard work,” I answer and set my pen down. I want him to know he has my full attention.
“Well, yes. And I know that, in order to be happy, I need to keep people happy.”
/> “To an extent,” I tell him.
He nods, “Absolutely. Never sacrifice your happiness for someone else’s.”
“So what’s going on?” I want to steer the conversation back to where he needs it to be. The sooner it’s over, the better. Then I can go home and drown my sorrows in a vat of frozen yogurt.
“I spoke with,” I inhale as he starts, “Asa.” I exhale as he finishes. “She said she’s bringing all of her songs to you. She wants you to produce the rest of her album.”
My smile is large and immediate.
“I’d be honored.”
“I know you would. And I know this is a dream come true for you.” He folds his leg over the other and those dreaded colorful socks he wears peek out. “But this is only part of what goes into an artist. A part that we don’t typically deal with. Yes, I call you in for your ear. But there are producers out there who are paid to do this. Freelancers. You’re gearing up to be president of this label.”
The more he goes on, the more my smile fades. On one hand, he’s bringing me my dream on a platter; one of the greatest honors I’ll ever know. On the other hand, he’s telling me this is my last taste of fate. No more sipping the nectar of the gods. Or the Kool-Aid for that matter.
“I know you love the music, Em. I blame that on me. And maybe if it weren’t just you and me or maybe if we didn’t reach this pinnacle of success, you could follow your dreams. But this is what is needed.”
All I can hear in my head is, Never sacrifice your happiness for someone else’s.
“So…I’m not working on her album?” I ask.
“No, no. You will. What Asa wants as a top contender at Kingsley, Asa gets. But this isn’t the direction I expect you to go in, Emerson.”
I nod my head. At the very least, I’ll be afforded this exceptional opportunity. I would’ve rather he come in here and yell at me over Maddox. Instead, he drops this on me. I knew this was going to happen. I knew this was my future but it still comes as a surprise, the way it hurts so much.
My father followed his dreams. Look how successful he’s become. Now, because he’s wanting to retire in less than a decade, he’s panicking and pushing his dreams on me. He gets up and hugs me, and I can’t find it in me to sincerely hug him back. Not right now when all I want is to talk to my mom.
“I love you,” he says, and all I can hear is the sound of my deep disappointment.
Never sacrifice your happiness for someone else’s.
Chapter 5
The city sky is dark but the lights dotting just below are a reminder that I live in a city that’s known for its lack of sleep. I’m packing up to leave for the day, and I’m humming the Sinatra song as I reach Holly who is waiting just outside my door. We make our way to the elevator.
“The good thing about working late is not having to run into the guy you ran out on,” he offers as we get in and he presses the ground floor button. Regret is swift as the humming dies in my throat.
“I should’ve never told you.” Because I don’t need reminding.
“It was me or your dad.” True.
I’m remembering the conversation I had with my father when the elevator doors slide open and Maddox looks at me. He arches a brow and steps inside the elevator. He’s standing just in front of us and I’m glancing at Holly, my eyes wide. I look back at Maddox, and I notice the tap-tapping of his hand on the outside of his thigh. All that music in his head.
We reach the ground floor and the doors slide open again.
“Have a good night, Ms. Kingsley,” Maddox says before he slips out.
I stare after him and Holly pushes me forward.
“Are we going home or what?”
My eyes are still chasing Maddox out of the elevator. I blink and move forward and Hollis falls in step beside me. I stare at Maddox all the way until he’s outside¸ and I pause at the door. I don’t want to follow him out because I might make a fool of myself.
“Okay. What’s with the pout?” Hollis asks as I finally take steps toward the exit.
I want to tell him that I’m not pouting and that I’m far too mature to pout, but even I can feel the way the edges of my lips are being pulled downward; down to where my heart sits in my stomach, heavy like an anchor.
“He called me Ms. Kingsley,” I hiss. Hollis rolls his eyes and takes me by the arm to lead me outside.
“Listen to me because I’m only going to tell you this one time.” We’re outside amid the horns honking and the people and the city is alive, reminding me that at any given time, stories are continuing. Sinatra’s words beg to be sung at the top of my lungs in the middle of the street.
Holly waits until we’re in a cab to talk.
“You walked out on him, made him eat lunch alone. Be glad he greeted you at all.”
“He asked me if we were together and wanted to know how strict company policy was,” I remind him, and I’m annoyed that I even have to do so. I’m also annoyed that I’m having this conversation. That I’m affected by Maddox at all. I want to go back to the days where I watched him in the park and I wasn’t acting like a teenager with a crush. I was in control of my little life, and I didn’t let this man affect anything other than my daydreams.
“You know I love you, Em. But I’m a dude. If you’re looking for someone to lie to you and tell you that you aren’t being ridiculous, you’re probably going to have to find someone with a pair of tits.”
When I don’t respond, he keeps going.
“Think about it. He doesn’t know you. And maybe you think you know him but you don’t. Take your feelings out of the equation and look at all of your interactions thus far. You kind of seem like a bitch, which isn’t you at all.”
He’s right and it bothers me because I’m not trying to be rude. But he’s also right that I don’t know Maddox and Maddox doesn’t know me. What Maddox does know of me isn’t good. I’m spiraling, trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me that’s making me act like this.
Yes, it’s my superficial feelings toward Maddox. But I need to get them in check and I need to start being professional, especially if I’m going to work at Kingsley and one day take over.
I still don’t say anything. Not when we pull up and get out. Not in the elevator. Not even when I take off my coat and shoes and head to my room.
“I can’t decide if you’re trying to protect yourself or if you want to be alone,” Holly says from behind me. I turn to look at him and then I slam my door in his face.
I’ll start being responsible for my actions tomorrow. Tonight, I’m tired and my father’s speech coupled with Holly’s is a little hard for me to digest.
Instead, I spend the night trying to remember what it was like before I started second-guessing. Somewhere along the way, my confidence was shot down and if I had any hope of moving forward, I’d need it back.
Part of me thinks I lost it when my mother died, but to blame her passing is too much. She couldn’t help what happened to her, and I couldn’t fault her for making me the way I am now, though I know I did bury parts of myself with her.
I could say that I lost myself in love and that I gave him parts of me that I never got back. Maybe old loves are selfish that way and have no idea of the pieces of you they still own, no matter what happened. Or maybe, as life goes on, we leave pieces of ourselves all over the place. Maybe I’ve pulled a Gretel and left a trail for someone to find me. I shake my head and turn over in bed.
Regardless, I couldn’t only blame my childhood sweetheart. I spend hours going over it all…over our years together and our years apart. Our relationship was one of those things you never fully understand. Only in retrospect did I realize not only how foolish and blind I’d been but also how young and hopeful I was.
I want that youthful hope back, but I need to find my confidence first. If there is a trail that’ll lead me back to me, I need to find it.
It isn’t until the late hours of the night, long after Hollis turned off the television, that I finall
y fall asleep.
Lead guitars come in from the left. Acoustic guitars come in from the right. I’m off my game today. I shake my head as I remember the hours of thinking and tossing and turning last night. The pressure behind my eyes is building, but I have to continue the session. To top it off, the song is a beautiful ballad and it’s hitting me hard.
I take a deep breath and my eyes close as I listen.
Asa stumbles over the next verse. I cut the music off and press the button to my mic, but before I can speak, she tosses off her headset and storms out of the booth.
“When I asked Mr. Kingsley to work with you from here on out, it was because I was under the impression that you were the best. Not because I thought you’d be falling asleep and wasting my time.” Her hands are on her hips, and I attempt to mask the fatigue on my face. So much for trying to find my confidence.
“I’m sorry. Truly. Just…go back and let’s try again. I’m not sleeping. I’m listening. I want you to start it from the top. The song is beautiful. Those inhales between? Perfectly timed.” I pull my hair up into a bun. “Let’s do it again. You know what heartbreak is like, right? Take me there.”
I know what heartbreak is like, and I don’t want to go back there. But I can’t help Asa’s lyrics taking me right back to it.
“No more sleeping.” She points at me before walking back into the booth and placing her headset back on. I wait for her cue, and when she gives me a thumbs-up, I play the music. It starts off easily enough. She does a throaty whisper, hits her falsetto and then it picks up. When it picks up…my eyes water. Back to that whisper-like singing. It’s almost like a lure in before she destroys you. I love that she’s so versatile. Her foot stamps as she hits the top of her vocal range, and I smile when I see her tears.
I know what that feels like. Both singing to your tears and being that destroyed. I can smell the ocean’s breeze as the song continues. I can feel the sand between my toes and the arms around my shoulders. If I try hard, yanking at the corners of my mind, I can remember his kiss. Maybe even that last one. I can remember that one night everything was perfect. And then, with a knock on a door, it wasn’t.
The Sound of Serendipity Page 4