A Malibu Kind of Romance

by Synithia Williams

  “Julie, what’s wrong?”

  She kept her back to him while she fixed her skirt. “I’ve got to go.” He reached for her again, but she opened the door and escaped.

  Chapter 20

  “I had sex with him, on a table, with his parents in the next room.”

  A heavy sigh came through Julie’s cell phone after her confession. Julie pictured Evette cringing on the other end.

  “You didn’t?”

  “I did, which is why I need to go ice queen and leave him alone. I don’t think straight when I’m with him.”

  “Sometimes you don’t want to think straight.”

  Julie snorted and stared out of her hotel window at the mountains in the distance. “Not thinking straight gets you in trouble.”

  “But sometimes it can lead to a lifetime of happiness.”

  Julie rolled her eyes because Evette wasn’t there to see it. “Who do you know that’s had a lifetime of happiness with a guy like Dante? First I was a challenge and didn’t just fall into his bed. Now that I have, I’m an interesting conquest, but that’s it.”

  Be my lady, Julie. Say you’ll be mine.

  Dante’s words rang through her head. But words spoken after sex, on a table, with his family one wall over, were not words that made a strong foundation for a relationship.

  “Can you, for once, stop analyzing everything a man does in a relationship and just go with things?” Evette asked.

  “This has nothing to do with my rules.” So what if not trusting words spoken during sex was one of her biggest rules?

  “It has everything to do with them. You’re probably reciting them in your head right now.”

  Damn Evette and her insightfulness. “Maybe I should recite them constantly. From the moment I got here, I’ve ignored my rules and got involved with Dante. I need to finish this project and get the hell out of California.”

  “Look, I can’t say whether or not Dante is the right guy for you. He is a big party guy and is linked to a lot of different women, but—”

  “How can you possibly have a but?”

  “But,” Evette said, enunciating the t, “knowing that you’ve gone against your normally rigid stance, I think you have some feelings going on for the guy. And,” Evette said in a hurry, as if she could sense Julie opening her mouth to argue, “for him to ask you to try to make things work between you makes me believe there’s more going on than raging libidos and a need for a conquest.”

  “Maybe, but that also doesn’t mean the lifetime of happiness you referred to. Before I lost my mind and slept with him on a table—”

  “With his parents in the next room.”

  Julie groaned. “Before all that, he was laughing with his beautiful ex-girlfriend, who stuck to him better than pantyhose in the summer. His dad wants them back together to boost his career, and there’s a good possibility he’s going to be working with Antwan.”

  “Good possibility isn’t definite fact. He screwed you on a table, not his beautiful ex-girlfriend. Points to Julie.”

  Julie thought about the intense pleasure from that incident and twisted her thighs together. “Who knows what he did after I left.”

  “If you would’ve stayed, he probably would’ve screwed you on another table, then the bed, maybe even the pool.”

  “Evette, stop!” Julie jumped up from the chair. Her mind and body going into sexual overdrive with all the possibilities. “None of that matters. He’s just like Antwan, and I’m not going down that road again. He’s not the guy for me.”

  “Then who is the quote-unquote guy for you, Julie?” Evette asked with exasperation.

  “Huh?”

  “Who’s this dream guy you’re waiting on? You are hit on by more men than anyone I know. Most women would love to have the guys you repeatedly shoot down ask them on a date. You keep saying you’re waiting for someone outside of the business, but even when you meet a guy like that, you never trust him enough to let him get close. I’m not telling you to ride off into the sunset with Dante, but you need to take a long, hard look at yourself and what you really want. Because for someone who says they eventually want a relationship, you’re too mistrusting to ever get there.”

  Evette’s words stung. That was the way with the truth. Julie ran her hand over her face and sighed. “I just don’t want to get hurt.”

  “I know. Antwan broke your heart. Raymond wanted to be the next guy, but he was too busy sleeping with anything with two X chromosomes. A lot of the men we meet are just trying to play games, but that’s life. You and every other woman out there are dealing with the same thing. Eventually, you have to stop using not wanting to get hurt as an excuse to throw away a chance at love or just accept that you’re old and bitter.”

  “I’m not bitter.”

  “I can get a thesaurus and look up another word for it, but the meaning’s the same.”

  Julie wasn’t ready to cave in just yet. “You heard about the fight—there are already rumors that I got this job because I’m sleeping with Dante. If I openly date him, then what? More proof that my big projects are because I’m involved with the men.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you never sleep with a client, people will always make their own judgments. Next excuse?”

  “Once this project is done, I’m back in Atlanta, and he’s still here trying to decide if he should hook up with his ex.”

  “Okay, that’s kind of a good one,” Evette admitted. “But not good enough to not even try. There was a chance Dominant Development would fail, but you still gave it a try. Stop being afraid, and admit that you’re really into Dante.”

  “Fine. I am.” Julie stomped her foot. Frustration and fear bubbled in her stomach. “I can’t let myself hope that he feels the same. I can’t go with my feelings and get caught up in thinking that this will be a real relationship only to end up exactly where I was years ago, heartbroken, when he tells me I’ve become one of many. So, yes, there’s more going on. Yes, I feel like I’m falling in love with him. Yes, I want to give this a try, but for my own self-preservation, I’m keeping my focus on opening this club and leaving without him ever knowing how I feel.”

  Julie sucked in several ragged breaths. Her heart pounded. Evette didn’t immediately answer. Guess that was the way of things when someone, normally so put together, had an outburst over the telephone. A rush of words that proved just how scared Julie was.

  “Oh, Julie.” Evette’s voice had the sympathetic and comforting tone of a mother about to give heartwarming advice to a forlorn teenager.

  Julie didn’t want to hear it. Evette hadn’t been humiliated and broken the way Julie had when Antwan laughed at her in front of a club full of people.

  “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Julie ended the call before Evette could finish.

  Chapter 21

  Dante burst into the studio. His mind still reeled over how easily Julie ran away the night before. He’d never, ever, put himself out there like that. He’d asked—no, practically begged for a woman to admit that she had feelings for him. That wasn’t what Dante Wilson did. He was supposed to be in control of his own life, his own destiny. Now he was fluttering in the wind. He was caught up in a relationship Julie didn’t want while simultaneously being forced to make an album he didn’t want.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Terrance asked. He and Tommy stood next to the piano reviewing music.

  “Too many people in my head trying to tell me what to do,” Dante answered.

  “The album with Antwan?” Tommy asked.

  Dante nodded, not willing to admit the feelings he had for Julie also contributed to his foul mood.

  “My dinner with my family last night was supposed to persuade them that opening this nightclub and doing my own thing to promote Strings A Flame and our mus
ic is what I should be doing next. Instead, they invite Missy, have already started promoting this new album and, based on the latest blog by our friend Gary—” Dante pulled out his cell and waved it “—Missy and her family having dinner at my house last night marks the beginning of us getting back together.”

  He slammed the cell on the top of the piano. Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, Dante clenched his teeth to keep from yelling his frustration.

  Terrance frowned and leaned one arm on the piano. “Wasn’t Julie there? How did she take things?”

  Dante dropped his hands and smirked at Terrance. “Remarkably calm. She basically told me to move on, and that I’m free to pursue whatever I want with Missy.”

  Right before making love to him and joining his heart with hers. Even if she didn’t realize that.

  “I don’t believe that,” Terrance said.

  “You didn’t see the impassive look in her eye when she said it.” Or feel the pain in Dante’s chest that resulted afterward.

  “Julie was here in the studio cheering you on. I see the way she looks at you. That woman is crazy about you.”

  “Well, she’s not crazy about being crazy about me. She doesn’t want a relationship with me. She wants to go back to Atlanta, and find some guy outside of the music industry to settle down with. Some guy who won’t have groupies throwing panties at him after a show or twin supermodels offering threesomes at parties.”

  Tommy chuckled. “That is your life.”

  “That was my life before Julie. It wouldn’t be my life if I had Julie.”

  “Did you tell her that?” Terrance asked.

  Dante looked at Terrance and shrugged. “I did, but she doesn’t believe me. She won’t say it, but I know she’s comparing me to Antwan.”

  Tommy scowled. “Why?”

  “Because they dated once, and he treated her like he treats most women.” Dante’s voice filled with disgust. Mostly for himself—he’d treated women the same. Beautiful conquests with little regard to what happened when he was ready to move on.

  Tommy and Terrance flinched. “He may make good music,” Tommy said. “But he’s not the person I’d recommend as the example for what it’s like to date a musician.”

  “Tommy’s right, Dante,” Terrance said. “You’ve got to show her that you’re serious.”

  “How can I show her that when she’s not even willing to give me the chance to prove myself?”

  “By not giving up and doing something she wouldn’t expect from a guy who was only interested in having a little fun.”

  Dante sat on the piano stool and ran a hand over his face. He thought about what he’d done the night before and chuckled.

  “What?” Terrance asked.

  “I wrote a song about her. I haven’t done that in years—written a song about a particular woman. Last night, I couldn’t get the feelings out of my head until finally I grabbed a notebook and started writing.”

  Tommy held out his hand. “Let us see.”

  “It’s no good. Just some feelings running in my head. Nothing that needs to see the light of day.”

  Tommy didn’t drop his hand. “Words written with feeling always deserve to see the light of day.”

  Terrance nodded. “He’s right, Dante. Let us hear the lyrics.”

  Dante looked at the two brothers. Heat burned across his neck and cheeks. They’d think he was crazy or that he was crazy in love. He never should have said anything about writing the music. Damn sure shouldn’t have spent the night writing a song about a woman who’d turned him down more than any other woman he’d ever met.

  He glared at Tommy’s outstretched hand, then met his expectant look. They were musicians; they wouldn’t laugh. Hopefully.

  Sighing heavily, Dante pulled out the notebook in his backpack and slapped bound pages into Tommy’s hand. Terrance scooted next to his brother and took a look. For several tense seconds, Dante watched as they read over the words that had thrummed through his mind the night before.

  “Have you thought of the beat to go with it?” Terrance asked.

  “Not quite. I’m hearing something, but it’s not coming clear,” Dante answered.

  “Tell us what you’re thinking—let’s see what we can do.”

  Dante raised a brow. “Are you sure? This really isn’t for production.”

  Terrance slapped the back of Dante’s head. “Play the damn beat.”

  Dante rubbed the back of his head and glared at Terrance, who didn’t look the least bit regretful.

  “Fine,” Dante gritted out. He swung around on the piano stool. Running his fingers along the cool keys, he took a deep breath, then strummed out the start of a melody that hovered at the back of his mind.

  Terrance nodded, listening to the music. He picked up his violin and began to play, adding to Dante’s piano melody. Tommy headed to the drums instead of picking up his own violin. He tapped out a beat, and instantly Dante could hear the song coming together.

  For the next hour, they worked on the song. When the rest of the group came in, Dante gave them the pieces of the melody they’d worked out and continued to practice. By the end of the set, the words that hovered in Dante’s mind were transferred from the notebook to the pages of several sheets of music. A rough draft, to say the least, but very close to being the finished product.

  His cell phone rang after they ran through the song again. It was Otis. “Hold up, guys, I need to take this call.”

  He answered the phone on his way out and to the office next door.

  “I’m calling to see if you’re available for dinner with the Robersons again tonight. I think it’ll be good to get reservations at Arata where you and Missy can be seen together.”

  Dante gritted his teeth to keep from cursing Otis out. “No. I’m not going to Arata with the Robersons. I’m not doing the same old songs I’ve always done, and I damn sure am not getting back together with Missy.”

  “Are you raising your voice at me?”

  “Depends, are you trying to run my life?”

  “No one is trying to run your life.”

  “Then stop thinking that the work I’m doing with S.A.F. is some little project. Stop stomping on my dream to do something different. Stop stepping to the woman I’m trying to be with and telling her that I belong with someone else. I’m a grown man. I’m not the thirteen-year-old who first started in this business. When I want your advice, I’ll ask for it.”

  There was a long pause. “You’re too big for my input now, huh?”

  “I’ll always value your opinion when I ask for it.”

  “You don’t care about W. M. Records? Getting with Missy and the collaboration with Antwan are all a part of the plan to help revive sales.” Otis’s voice seethed with frustration and disbelief.

  Dante did care. How could he not care for the company that was so much a part of his success? He also cared for his dreams. He couldn’t let those go.

  “If Antwan signs I’ll consider a collaboration for his album. That’s it.”

  “Will your mom and I at least see you for breakfast before we leave town tomorrow?” The anger had drained from Otis’s voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Otis sighed. “I hope I didn’t ruin things with Ms. Dominick.”

  “Nothing I can’t fix.” He hoped at least.

  They ended the call. Dante felt as if a huge weight was lifted from him as he entered the studio again. Otis didn’t say it, but Dante had won the battle.

  The guys were all settled around the room. Tommy played the music they’d put together on his violin. Esha and Terrance were on the sofa. Their arms were entwined, and they looked as if there was nowhere else in the world they’d rather be. Longing hit Dante hard. That’s what he wanted with Julie. For her to be wrapped in h
is arms, smiling, happy, content in their relationship.

  Tommy stopped playing and looked at Dante. “All good?”

  Dante nodded. “All good.”

  “Alright. Now, what are you going to do with this?” He held up the pages that held the lyrics.

  “I’m going to release it,” Dante said.

  Terrance’s head tilted to the side. “You want to get your family’s company to release it?”

  Dante shook his head. “No. I’m going to release it. Or better yet, S.A.F. will. Independently, without giving my dad or the rest of the suits at his company the opportunity to strip the song of what it truly is. Then we’ll put out the rest of our music. Just in time for the opening of the club.”

  Terrance and the rest of the group brightened with excitement. Exhilaration rushed through Dante’s veins. He would step out on his own and pray to God he didn’t fall on his face. This was what he really wanted to do. This song, this music, was just as hot as anything else he’d done. He had enough of a fan base to know they’d love it. He hadn’t been in the music business for seventeen years and learned nothing.

  The only way to convince Otis of that was to do it on his own. If Otis came to Dante later and asked for him and S.A.F. to produce their music for the company, he’d leave that to the group to consider. Though he’d much prefer to keep doing their music on their own. Dante had more than enough clout in the music industry to get his music promoted without the machine behind his father.

  “Dante, are you sure we can do this?” Terrance asked. “The club opens in a few weeks. That means we need all of our music ready.”

  “Our music is ready. I’ve been delaying putting it out because I’ve let my dad’s offer linger in my mind too long.” Terrance nodded, and Dante knew that even though they supported his decision either way, his hesitation was holding them back. “Let’s show people what Strings A Flame is about.”

  Chapter 22

  Julie looked around the finished space of the club and smiled. Dark wood and leather furniture, muted gold accents. Across from the stage was a two-sided bar that would serve patrons inside and those sitting outside overlooking the ocean. The place had a warm, welcoming feel. She turned to smile at the building inspector. “Are we good for the CO?”