“Dominance and excellence are two words as reverent as prayers in my family. With a legacy like we have, and in order to maintain our level of success, there’s no room for half steps. Knowing how to play the piano isn’t good enough. You have to also understand drums, strings, wind and brass. I can play the violin, saxophone and trumpet.”
He didn’t say it as if bragging, but there was some pride in his voice.
“Sounds like your childhood was spent in music and dance lessons. Did you ever have fun?”
He smirked and ran his hand across her short, silky hair. “Honestly, not much. Not until I had my first hit and went on my first tour at thirteen. That’s when the fun kicked in. I was a kid, and the world loved me, my music and my family. I still had a rigorous schedule, but my dad loosened the strings enough to let me enjoy myself.”
“Loosened the strings...yikes.”
He chuckled and nodded. Then his smile drifted away. Many times he had resented the constant pressure to be great at everything until the perks of being successful kicked in. Dante would admit that he was spoiled, pampered in a way that other celebrities wouldn’t understand because his family had been successful for generations. He’d never regretted or resented that part of his life until last night. He’d never thought much about the people he surrounded himself with, but someone in his group had almost hurt Julie. Time to take strong inventory of who he invited into his circle.
“I guess if they hadn’t pushed me so hard, I wouldn’t be where I am today,” he said, setting aside his thoughts. “Right now I’m ready to do something that I really want to do. Why have an appreciation for all this music and not try something different?”
“Why the collaboration with Antwan?”
He stopped stroking her hair. Dozens of questions about her previous relationship with the rapper ran through his head. He damn sure didn’t want all the details, but for the life of him, he couldn’t picture how they got together. Julie didn’t seem like the type to fall for a player like that.
A player like me.
Dante cleared his throat and ran his fingers through her hair again. “My dad is pushing that. W. M. Records needs a boost. We’ve had declining sales the past two years. Not enough to do major damage but enough for people to smell blood in the water. If I work with Antwan and get him to sign with us, it’ll go a long way to keeping the stars we’ve got and signing new ones.”
“But it’ll also make working with S.A.F. harder.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Choosing between my dream and my family’s legacy is next to impossible. I want to do both—sign S.A.F. to our label and bring something new to the company. My dad’s against it.”
She was silent for several seconds. “Doing something different from what you’ve always done can be difficult. You almost feel as if you’re going against yourself.”
“You understand the feeling?”
She nodded and resettled in his lap. “I do. When I was younger I was so spontaneous. I didn’t always think through all the consequences of my actions. Just listened to my gut instinct and went with that.”
“Most kids are like that.”
“True, but for some people, going with your first instinct can lead to trouble. For me, things always seemed to work out. That was my compass, to trust myself and to know that I could be secure in my decisions. Now I analyze everything. I wonder about the repercussions and weigh the pros and cons.”
“That can be smart, especially when starting a new business.”
“It’s not just business—it’s every aspect of my life.” She frowned, frustration filling her voice. “I scrutinize everything in my personal life, every step that I take, just so I don’t end up blindsided.”
She turned her head to stare at the screen. Dante doubted she paid attention to the movie.
“Were you that way with Antwan?”
She blinked, looked at him, scoffed and sat up. “Why would you say that?”
He wanted to pull her back against him. “He broke your heart.”
She shrugged, but the stiffness in her back proved the move wasn’t indifferent. “We just weren’t on the same page in our...relationship. If you’d call it that. I thought we were exclusive, and I was wrong. Guess I shouldn’t have been so quick to believe a guy as famous and popular as him really meant it when he said that I was his heart, and that I was the only one for him. Even worse, I assumed that him saying, ‘I want you to have my baby,’ meant he wanted to marry me.”
She jerked a grape off the vine and tossed the fruit in her mouth.
“Julie.”
She held up a hand. “Don’t. I’ve heard it all. ‘He shouldn’t have said that if he didn’t mean it’ or ‘You’re not dumb for thinking you were special to him.’ Because regardless of any of the excuses, I should have paid attention to the signs. I brushed off the flirting women, numbers in his pocket and rumors of him sleeping around as part of the hassle that came with dating a celebrity. When we were together, he gave me all of his attention, but when we weren’t together, he didn’t reach out to me, didn’t even act as if he missed me. After I realized I was one of many, and was devastated, Raymond was my only friend to be straight with me. He let me know exactly how I’d been played and how to notice the signs in other relationships. Now I strive to be clear about the expectations before going into any relationship.”
Dante clenched his teeth to keep from swearing. His toe tapped against the floor while he weighed his words. He couldn’t make any excuse for Antwan—hell, he was Antwan. He’d said and done the same things over his life as a celebrity, with the exception of the baby comment. He had whispered promises of more in the middle of sex—promises that later bit him in the ass but were quickly forgiven and forgotten.
No wonder Julie had originally pushed him away. She’d seen in him the same type of guy who’d broken her heart, no matter what she said. After last night, all Dante wanted to do was protect her heart, cherish her, but what could he possibly do to make her believe that?
“What are your expectations for us?” he finally asked.
She turned to watch him, and as he stared into her amber eyes, his heart played wildly in his chest. The smallest beat of hope that she’d felt the same connection he had when they’d made love earlier accompanied the rhythm.
“We’re mixing business and pleasure...against our better judgment.”
The beat died. “What if my better judgment says mixing business and pleasure with you is the right thing to do? That not being with you goes against everything in me? That something tells me this is worth exploring?”
Her lips parted. The tip of her tongue darted out across her full bottom lip. Her eyes softened for a second before her lips lifted in a teasing grin, and she shook her head.
“It’s just the afterglow from earlier. We’re both hyped up from last night.” She popped some grapes in her mouth, then looked at him. “Don’t worry—I know this isn’t going to last long. Right?”
Wrong. So very wrong. He wanted this to last. But could it really? He was in California; she was in Georgia. He toured, lived his life on the road and got more numbers, naked groupies snuck into hotel rooms and invitations than Antwan could imagine. Before meeting Julie, he wasn’t ready to settle down. He’d had a threesome just a few weeks ago. Now, after one time with her, he couldn’t imagine spending his nights without Julie by his side.
Would she believe him? Did he believe himself? This type of stuff, the feeling of completeness, didn’t happen after one round of sex. Could it?
He wasn’t sure if he could answer the question. Not right now. For once he needed some time to think over what he expected from a relationship.
“You’re right, just a little fun. Do you want to see me do the dance from one of the movies?” he asked, needing to change the subject before he blurted out his thoughts—thou
ghts she’d probably scorn.
What looked like disappointment flashed briefly in her eyes before she grinned. “Any one I call out, you can do?”
“I promise.”
She bit her lower lip and pulled her brows together, thinking. “Hmm. I’ll go with the famous sequence from Singin’ in the Rain.”
“Really? Why that?”
“Because I’m in love with Gene Kelly and his thighs. If you pull it off—” she leaned close and ran her hand up his leg, squeezing his thigh “—I might let you get in between my thighs again.”
His cock went from soft and sated to half rigid and ready. Thoughts of the future could wait until tomorrow. Today he wanted Julie back in his arms. Taking her hand in his, he lifted her from the seat. “Deal.”
Chapter 15
Three days later, the only thing Dante could think of was Julie. She hadn’t spent the night and had chosen to go back to her hotel room after the doctor checked her out to verify she was okay and they’d made love twice more. He’d asked her to stay. When she’d insisted on leaving, he’d almost begged.
Thank God I have some pride.
Dante Wilson did not beg. He should be glad that she hadn’t called in the past three days or hadn’t gotten needy after they slept together. Instead he was irritated and had picked up his phone to call her too many times, only to put the thing down. He needed some distance. He would not be the dope that fell in love with a woman who guarded her heart like a navy SEAL, analyzed every move he made like a computer software program and dissected his every word as if they were a middle school science project.
“Hey, Dante, you made the blogs,” Terrance said from where he sat on one of the sofas in the studio. They were the only two there. The rest of S.A.F. was not expected to show up until later that afternoon.
Dante looked up from the sheet of music he was supposed to be reading instead of wondering about his feelings.
“What are you talking about?”
Terrance stood and crossed the room. He gave his cell phone to Dante. “I checked out the blogs from the people at your party the other night. Instead of talking about our music, they’re talking about the fight. How you and Antwan beat up the guy who drugged Julie.”
“What?” He scanned the words on the screen. A few lines in, and he cursed. The blogger, Gary Mo, had gotten the gist of what happened and filled in the rest for entertainment value.
He read aloud. “Promising real estate developer Julie Dominick hit it big after opening a nightclub for her former lover Antwan and is now cozying up to Dante Wilson while helping him open a nightclub in partnership with her longtime friend and suspected lover Raymond. Sources say the fight actually started earlier in the night when Dante and Antwan were both vying for her attention. The stunt pulled by a drummer in Dante’s circle sparked the animosity brewing between the two. Hopefully, Dante and Antwan won’t let—” Dante gritted his teeth and took a deep breath “—a piece of tail ruin a collaboration that the music world is pining for.”
He gripped the phone, and his arm flexed with the need to throw the damn thing. If this had been a blogger with a small following, Dante wouldn’t care. But Gary not only had a popular site about what was new in music, he also had a side job as the music correspondent for a weekend news show on a popular entertainment channel.
Dante glared up at Terrance. “This is ridiculous. He’s calling what happened to Julie a stunt? This completely ignores the statement my publicist put out and creates a problem that isn’t there.”
“I know,” Terrance said with a disgusted look.
“Are all of the bloggers we invited posting this?”
Terrance shook his head. “Not like this. A few talk about the music and the people there, but they do, eventually, go into the fight. That’s the highlight of every story. This is the first one I read that went into Julie’s history with Antwan.”
“Anyone reading this will think I’m working with her because I’m sleeping with her and not because she was the best person for the job.”
Dante’s shoulders bunched, and he slapped the phone back into Terrance’s waiting hands, guessing his friend knew he was close to smashing it. Julie’s voice was filled with pride and determination whenever she talked about why she started her own firm. The reasons for her success were the exact opposite of what Gary implied.
Dante jumped up and dug into his pocket for his cell. “I’m going to call him and tell him he’s out of line.”
Terrance held out his hands. “Hold up—I wouldn’t do that.” When Dante glared, Terrance shrugged. “Calling him will only stir the flames. You know Gary. He likes to be the first person on anything new. If you call him, he’s going to take what he said to be the truth, and before you know it, the story is not just on his site but being broadcast on Hollywood News. The best thing to do is let this story die down. Julie is okay. Carlos got his ass kicked, was arrested and, between you and Antwan blackballing him, will never work with anyone good again. Besides, some of the bloggers had good things to say about our music.”
“I don’t feel right leaving things like this. Julie is the victim here, and instead of pointing that out, he’s painting her as someone who has to sleep her way to the top.”
“Dante, half of what’s reported on a celebrity’s life is a lie. You and I both know that. Julie is a big girl, and she’s been around this business long enough to know how things work. She probably doesn’t want any more attention brought up about this anyway. Just leave it alone.”
Terrance slipped his phone into his back pocket. “I’m going to grab some lunch. Think about that while I’m gone.”
Dante nodded and watched Terrance leave. He knew what Terrance said made sense. There’d been so many rumors and mistruths reported about him in the news that he spent most of his time laughing at the stories journalists came up with. This shouldn’t be any different. If anything, the potential tension between him and Antwan would probably lead to more buzz about a collaboration between them.
Dante pulled out his phone and checked the sites of the other people he’d invited to the party. As Terrance said, almost all of them had good things to say about the music, but the biggest chunk of coverage was given to his song with Antwan. He wasn’t surprised, but he was still disappointed. Anything he and Antwan did together would be hot. People would buy the music and flock to a concert. His career would continue to rise. W. M. Records would get the boost it needed, and other artists would sign. Though there were no negative comments about him and S.A.F., there also weren’t any gushing words telling people to anticipate a new and different sound.
Intermingled with everything he read was some version of the same assumptions about him, Julie, Antwan and even Raymond. None as blatant as the one Gary wrote, thankfully. If he called Gary to get the story straight, the guy would gleefully report that Dante called him to try to shut the story down and stifle his freedom of the press, bringing more attention to his relationship with Julie. Even though she had his thoughts scattered like notes in the wind, currently the extent of their relationship was exactly what Gary reported. They’d slept together, nothing more. The thought nagged him, going against the need to protect Julie from further harm.
The best thing to do is let this story die down.
Terrance’s words made his instincts rebel, but his brain held firm. He had to go with Terrance’s advice to ensure this entire situation blew over. For the first time in his life, Dante didn’t like what came with being a celebrity.
* * *
Julie pretended to check emails on her phone while the building inspector went through the latest renovations for Dante’s nightclub. Sheila accompanied the inspector on the walk-through. From what Julie could overhear, she answered all of the inspector’s questions with no problems. Still, Julie’s stomach fluttered. Sheila hadn’t given Julie much doubt in hiring h
er as the contractor for this job, and she had confidence things would go well. She needed this inspection on the electrical system to pass so they could move forward.
When the inspector and Sheila came to the front of the building, Julie slid the phone into the pocket of her suit and looked expectantly from one to the other.
“So, how did things go?” Julie asked.
Sheila didn’t look at Julie. Dread landed in Julie’s stomach with a heavy thud. She turned to the inspector and raised her brows.
The inspector pursed his lips before checking his notes. “You haven’t sprinkled the building. You can’t cover up the ceiling until that’s in.”
Julie’s eyes widened, and she turned to Sheila. “There’s no way we would have not sprinkled the building.”
The inspector shook his head. “I checked, and there are no sprinklers.”
“That wasn’t on the plans,” her contractor said.
Julie frowned. “On the plans or not, I think we should have known to install sprinklers.”
“If it’s not on the plans, I don’t put it in. Take that up with the architect,” Sheila said.
Julie ground her teeth to keep from swearing. “Did you know we would need sprinklers?”
Sheila lifted a shoulder. “I thought we might, but since it wasn’t on the plans...”
Julie pressed her lips together and raised a hand. “You decided not to say anything.” She would take this up with the architect, but she couldn’t believe Sheila would let them get this far without saying something.
The inspector grunted. Julie turned narrowed eyes on him. “Is there anything else?”
“That’s the main thing. Everything else is minor. Normally, I’d be surprised that you didn’t notice they weren’t installing sprinklers, but I guess I can understand why you might overlook that.”
Julie’s head cocked to the side and she crossed her arms. “Really, why?”
“Well.” The guy chuckled. “You know,” he said as he looked back at his notes.
A Malibu Kind of Romance Page 11