by JN Welsh
“I love the dedication.” Nyah had memorized and catalogued the musicians whose techniques she loved and mimicked as a young girl. As an adult, her voracious musical consumption continued. Irwin grew on her the longer he lingered, and whether he knew it or not, he’d been friend zoned. Great for her, maybe not so great for him. “That’s cool.”
“Yeah.” Tommy added, “Make sure you check out Queen Roe when she plays tomorrow.”
“I will.” Irwin’s eyes smiled at her. “I also owe you a drink. I hope I see you...like this again.”
Tommy’s smug expression was only visible to her as Irwin gave her all his attention before turning quickly to Tommy. “Oh and you, too, Boombox. It’s an honor.”
Even Tommy couldn’t deny Irwin’s charm.
“Thanks.”
“Well, I’ll see you guys around. Bon voyage.” Irwin shot the rest of his coffee and then waved his last round of goodbyes.
“You’re like a honeybun in the middle of an ant farm.”
“Because one guy chatted with me? It’s not that deep.” She was a queen with an empty throne that Irwin wanted to fill. For all his sweet flirtations and attention, Irwin wasn’t who she wanted. “I think I’m going to take a look around the ship.”
Tommy stood. “Mind if I come with you? I’d like to see the ship, too. Get my bearings. Plus, I can save you from another Irwin.”
She side-eyed him. “Did I look like I needed saving?”
“I guess not,” Tommy said. “I’d like to come with you if you’d like the company.”
“I’d like your company,” she emphasized.
Tommy leaned toward her and she smelled the light fragrance of his cologne as the wind whipped gently at his shirt. He reached for her hand. “Nyah, I—”
The announcement requesting them to meet below deck for the cruise safety check came across the speakers.
Tommy drew back and let her hand go. “You should finish your drink and we’ll head down.”
Damnit. He could have told her anything. He could have explained his quick mood shift earlier, recapped his business call, or told her that he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her any longer. Now she’d never know, and maybe that was for the best. “Yeah, okay.” She drank the remnants of her coffee and hoisted to her feet. “Ready.”
She and Tommy were corralled with everyone else on the ship according to their section to go over boat safety. Crewmembers handed them life jackets and gave their spiel, a combination of welcomes, warnings, and hazards. Nyah hadn’t been on a ship since her first spring break with her friends, but she was no stranger to boat safety. Before that it had been private yachts with her father in high school, either for his gigs that she’d been allowed to attend or with her family.
She fixed her life vest before the announcer gave instruction.
“You’re a pro at this.” Tommy fumbled with the latches and strings. “I always have trouble fixing this thing.”
“You’ve probably been on more boats than I have, being in this industry. I’m surprised this is where you struggle,” she teased. “Need some help?”
Tommy nodded. “It shouldn’t be this complicated.”
“No, it shouldn’t. One of your latches is a little worn.”
“Great. I get the defective life jacket.” His sarcasm vibrated though the thick, light flotation material around his neck.
“It’ll still work, but we should probably let them know.” She secured his life vest with a few tugs and pulls. “Now I get to keep you safe.” She returned her attention to listen to the safety instructions.
She felt his warm strong hand envelop hers and all her body functions ceased.
“Thanks,” he whispered into her ear, his breath bringing her back to life.
Nyah had never been so disappointed when the cruise safety check ended than when this one did because it wasn’t until their safety lecture ended that Tommy released her hand.
“We should check out our rooms,” Tommy suggested. “We’ll take the scenic route so we can see the ship.”
“Okay.” When they were on deck, Nyah saw Port Canaveral in the distance. “We’re moving? I didn’t even feel it.”
“Wow, you noticed earlier than most people do when they’re at the bar.”
Nyah hadn’t even bothered to look where they were and followed Tommy, her mind hazy from holding his hand a short while ago. However, when they took the corridor to the staterooms, she paid attention.
She rushed to unlock the door with her key and skipped inside. She’d been in fancy places before because of her father, from great parties on yachts, and in hotel suites, to private planes and islands, but she’d never stayed in such accommodations on a cruise before. When she’d gone with her friends, they barely spent time in their room so they’d gotten whatever was available to house their stuff while they partied. Now as she beelined for the large sliding glass doors with the balcony and the surrounding views of the ocean, she thought this was something she could get used to. She continued to survey the cabin with Tommy hanging at the doorway. He finally followed her in.
“Wow.” She was awed. “This is phenomenal.”
“You’re one of the performers and my client.” He didn’t boast but Tommy had shown her his provider side before. He’d made sure she received the royal treatment. The ship still sailed close enough to see land but soon the expanse of the ocean would be her only view.
“I can’t believe I have a stateroom!”
“We have staterooms.”
“Wait, what? Where’s your room?” she asked.
Tommy pointed to an open door with a connecting suite. “Right through there. We have adjoining suites.”
“Well isn’t that something.” She blindly felt for something to lean against until she found a chair. She tried to appear casual but her stomach flipped at the intimacy and closeness of having Tommy this close for three days.
“Yeah. We can share our living space so if we want to debrief or do work, we can connect, but we each have full privacy, also.”
“This is great, Tommy. I really appreciate the hookup.” Nyah was still wrapping her head around the close proximity she now found herself in with Tommy.
“My pleasure.” He offered her a slight bow. “Get used to it. There’s a dinner tonight at Bistro at seven. We can go together if you want.”
“I’d like that,” she said.
“Then I’ll knock at six thirty.”
When he left to enter into his suite, she stared at the partition that separated them. With Tommy this close to her would the barrier be enough to keep them apart?
Chapter Fourteen
Tommy sharpened the hairlines on his cheek, chin, and neck. He liked to look good, but he’d be a fool if he didn’t admit that he wanted to impress Nyah. He rinsed the razor and sighed. Had he made a good choice with the adjoining suites? Was that too close for comfort for her? For him? She seemed to be okay. He’d gotten to know her over that past months and was confident that if the arrangements weren’t to her liking, he’d have heard otherwise via her witty sarcasm that he’d come to appreciate.
He smoothed his hair with a light mousse to give it some finger-raking friendly hold. He traded his dark, black-rimmed glasses for brown ones. He’d hoped to have his contact lenses by the time he took this trip but because of the customization for his astigmatism they took longer to make. He preferred glasses mostly, because it gave him something to do when boredom struck or to make a point. He understood how Nyah felt to some degree with her dual identity, because when he wore contacts no one recognized him. He splashed on his aftershave and misted his cologne. The woodsy, sweet scent of oud oil and bergamot filled the bedroom.
He dressed quickly in his white shirt and slowed his pace. The countdown to Artistique ticked away, which also meant that Sunburst drew closer. If he didn’t lock in an arti
st soon, he could kiss the potential spot that Herman was trying to hold for him goodbye. His jaw tensed. He couldn’t rush Nyah. Her unshakable philosophy on performing at festivals presented a major obstacle, though the success of her performances here at Oh Ship might open her up to the possibility of expanding her view. Most of all he wished she’d have a little fun and open up. He never had to tell his clients this, but Nyah managed her duality with such precision that he thought letting her Afro puffs loose might do her good. During their last chat, she’d confessed her suspension, a situation that created an opportunity for him, but had also hurt her. If he could at all aid in making her feel better, he would. Visible or not, each passing minute changed something between them without much help from either of them.
He struck his knuckles on the partition door between their suites.
“Come in. It’s open,” Nyah called. He entered but didn’t see her. She’d left the entryway on her side unlocked to allow him access to her suite. His heart fluttered when she emerged from her bedroom, a vision in a clingy, white, sleeveless dress. Like an artist, she had stroked creative designs over her eyes and cheeks with liner and colored powders. The neckline plummeted to her navel and his stomach dropped with it as if he were on a wild rollercoaster ride. Her breasts were kept covered by hope in the form of double-sided fashion tape that she pressed on occasionally. He wanted to gently peel the material to the side to expose what lay beneath. The deep cuts on the sides of her garment revealed the calligraphy tattoo on her ribcage. He longed for a close-up of the words.
Tommy vaguely heard her. “What?”
“I guess we got the memo. We match,” she said. When he didn’t respond, she pressed. “Tommy?” She waved at him. “Hi. You okay?”
He sucked in air. “Yeah.” He blinked a few times, his face ablaze. “You look lovely.”
She slid her tinted glasses over the rich, deep war paint as if embodying her dual identity holistically. “Thanks. You’re stopping NYC traffic, too, I see.” Her face grimaced like someone had shoved a quarter-cup of slugs in her mouth. She rushed, tossing her suite card and phone into her clutch. “I mean, you look handsome.” She flattened her palm against a nearby wall to steady herself as she slipped on one strappy sandal at a time. The moderate heel made her slightly taller than him even though her hair always gave her a bit of a height advantage.
“Thanks,” he said. “Ready to go?”
“I am.”
He opened the door for her, resisting the impulse to reach for her hand as they strolled through the connecting corridors. They passed a viewpoint by their private elevators. The secluded and serene location resembled a wallpaper of sea and horizon. If he meditated it would be a good spot. The corner tucked behind one of the mid deck promenade areas and away from the loud roaring of the engine on the other end of the ship.
“This is a great place to truly chill,” she said.
He could see why she liked the location. It was as quiet as the concert hall before the tap of a baton on a music stand, awaiting the first notes to be played. “No doubt.” He noted the location but continued to advance toward the restaurant.
They arrived at Bistro and were welcomed to the restaurant along with other artist and industry folks. The moderate volume in the restaurant offered them, and the other guests, a reception space to network. “Boombox” and “Hey, Tommy” zipped around him as soon as they entered. He shook hands, waved, and acknowledged his colleagues by name.
“Queen.” A shout for Nyah’s attention carried over the hum in the room. Obviously, he wasn’t the only one who had contacts here.
“That’s Rize. We met at one of my gigs last year. I didn’t expect to see him here.”
Rize waved and started to make his way toward her.
“I’m going to go say hi,” she announced. “I’ll be back.”
Tommy’s gaze lingered after her to the point where he didn’t see Clyde, another agent and Tommy’s competition, coming toward him.
“Boombox.” Clyde extended his hand and Tommy shook it. “How’s it going, man?”
“Good. I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you’d be in Scotland.”
“No, I’ll be there in August for Summer Sessions and decided that a cruise with some of my upcoming artists might be time better spent. Plus, everyone’s a captive on the ship. They can’t hide if you want to talk business.” Clyde nudged him.
“True.” Tommy liked Clyde. They had always been friendly competitors but Tommy couldn’t help the fact that he enjoyed having a significant edge ahead of the other agent. “Congratulations. I heard you got another artist for Sunburst.”
“Yeah. They’re really happy about it. I’m trying to be like you, though, with all these big-ass acts, man. Are you ever going to give me your secret?” Clyde often finessed a rub with a compliment.
“We can swap cards on that and you can school me on your secret to finding talent that Sunburst wants.” Tommy would gladly divulge his trade secrets if Clyde could guarantee the end result Tommy wanted.
“I thought for sure when you signed Bedazzled Beats that they were going to be it, but they got caliente quick.” Clyde had used random Spanish words ever since learning about Tommy’s Dominican roots. “I hear you’re looking for new blood. Any luck?”
One time Tommy had walked in on Clyde bragging about how he’d one-upped another agent and snagged her client. Tommy didn’t believe, for one moment, that Clyde didn’t enjoy having pulled off something that Tommy hadn’t been able to do. Why shouldn’t he? Clyde held company with a small club of super agents, himself included. Tommy had recommended Clyde as an agent to hopeful clients, given that Tommy curated such a short list. Now with grooming Yaz, his protégé got first dibs on any recommendation. However, the sting of not having that last notch on his championship belt started to fester. Tommy wanted Sunburst and he was going to get it. The vow melded to him like an unbreakable bond. He just hoped that Nyah would get on board with the future he saw for her, including his plans to showcase her as Queen Roe at Sunburst.
The fragrance of seafood and rosemary in melted butter made his mouth water and his stomach rumble.
“Well, I see you’re on board with Queen Roe. Word about her is starting to spread and it’s probably going to spin out after she performs here. I’ve heard good things, so I’m psyched to see her play.” Clyde’s words forced Tommy’s focus from his belly.
Tommy didn’t get a chance to respond as Nyah finished up the conversation she had with Rize and a few other artists who’d joined their conversation and returned to his side.
“It smells amazing in here. I mean, let’s eat already, right?” Nyah announced.
Tommy refrained from telling her how adorable he found her and kicked his professionalism into high gear. “Queen, I’d like to introduce you to Clyde Harris. Super agent, friend, and rival.”
“All those things, huh?” Nyah asked.
“What can I say? I’m multifaceted.” Clyde offered her a slanted smile that Tommy had seen work on many ladies in his day. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m hearing all good things and looking forward to seeing your set tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I’m looking forward to entertaining the fans. Meeting other artists and people like you are a bonus,” she said. “How long have you two been...what was that? Friends and rivals?”
“Oh, about six years, right?” Clyde checked in with Tommy.
“About that, I guess. Feels longer,” Tommy confirmed and monitored the exchanges between Nyah and Clyde closely.
Servers came through with various appetizers and drinks and Nyah chose a shrimp cocktail shooter and Tommy plucked a Bellini off a tray and handed one to her and took another for him.
“So, Queen,” Clyde continued. “Have you been introduced to everyone?”
She covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she finished chewing. “I’ve been mak
ing the rounds.”
“Tommy probably has some people he’d like to introduce you to, but if he’s unavailable and you need company, I’ll be around. Feel free to use me.” Clyde’s octave deepened and Tommy frowned, well aware of Clyde’s poaching tricks.
Tommy’s back went rigid. He hadn’t claimed Nyah or Queen Roe publicly. “You trying to steal my client or what?” The question came out firmer than he intended.
Clyde cocked his head at him and smirked, his eyes bouncing back between Tommy and Nyah. “Boombox gets a little nervous ’cause I’ve done it before.”
“Ah.” Nyah sipped her drink from the condensation-frosted champagne glass. “I’m not that easy. Tommy knows this firsthand.”
Tommy’s body flamed hot at her loaded statement. His attraction for her slowly chipped away at his professionalism and his mind flashed to taking her in his arms and kissing her right in front of Clyde.
“I can be quite convincing.” Clyde took a step toward her and Tommy didn’t know his hand had fisted until his nails dug into his palm.
“Too bad I’m not the convincible type.” She leaned over to Tommy. “Don’t worry. He won’t steal me.” Her soft yet resolute statement hardened everything hanging and soft. Then she turned to Clyde and smiled.
“I see what’s up,” Clyde said. Before Tommy could demand an explanation from Clyde, dinner service began, and they all shuffled to their tables.
He and Nyah were seated at a table for two by the window with an ocean view and even if he didn’t want to, he had to admit that it was quite romantic.
“I thought we’d be seated with some other artists,” Nyah said as she slid into the banquette-style booth.
“Is that what you prefer? I thought you might like this better. I figured we could debrief your first day and that maybe the meet and greet at the beginning would be enough. I can request a change.” He remained standing as he blurted the information at her. Gather yourself, man.
“You did this?” She looked up at him from her seated position.