Any Way the Wind Blows

by E. Lynn Harris

“Come on. We have to celebrate,” I said as I took his hand and led him toward my dining room.

  “Where are you taking me, Yancey?”

  “We’re going to get some champagne. We can’t celebrate without champagne,” I said.

  I took Desmond into the kitchen, and I pulled out a moderately priced bottle of champagne. I was saving the good stuff for my first platinum single or CD, whichever came first.

  We then went into the bar area, where I kept my good crystal flutes. I poured two glasses of champagne, and Desmond offered a toast: “To a number-one record and video. The first of many.” Desmond then sat on the bar stool.

  “Cheers,” I said with a smile, still standing and trying to decide if I should move closer.

  “So you’re really pleased?”

  “I can’t tell you how pleased I am. I loved how you worked all my scenes and my wardrobe changes. I loved how you’d flash to the guys and then back to me! And how did you get that snow scene in? That was fabulous with the fur coat. I felt like Vanessa Williams in her ‘Save the Best for Last’ video,” I said.

  “You know, almost anything can be done with computers now,” Desmond said as he took a sip of the champagne.

  “I can’t wait to see it on BET, VH-1 and MTV!” I said.

  “I think they’re going to start running it immediately. I mean, the song is burning up the charts. What number is it now?”

  “Number seventeen with a bullet,” I said proudly.

  “This video will help, but I think they should have done it a little sooner.”

  “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have had the chance of doing it here in New York and meeting—I mean working—with you,” I said. “Besides, I’m sure most record companies take their time with new artists.”

  “It’s been on the real working with you. Yancey, you’re a talented and beautiful lady,” Desmond said.

  “Thank you,” I said, blushing. I took another sip of my drink and gazed at Desmond, who was wearing a sweater the color of a faded blue summer sky and tan slacks. This was the first time we’d been alone, and it felt good.

  “It really helps that you can act. A lot of these music divas can’t act or lip-synch, and it makes my job tough,” Desmond said.

  “I am thankful for my Broadway training. I know how to show emotion, and I don’t have a problem singing live,” I said.

  “I have a secret,” Desmond said as he leaned closer to me. There was something wonderfully sexy about the way Desmond smelled, like a wisp of cologne mixed with the clean fragrance of soap.

  “Tell me a secret,” I said as I welcomed Desmond into my personal space.

  “I’ve never been to a real Broadway show,” Desmond whispered.

  “I can’t believe that! How can you be a great director if you haven’t seen a Broadway show?” I asked with a broad smile.

  “Just haven’t got around to it. I will one day, maybe. I was never really interested in directing for the stage, so I spend a lot of time watching films. Both old and new.”

  “Who’s your favorite director?”

  “I love Orson Welles, and Boyz N the Hood was the best movie I’ve ever seen, and of course, Spike never really disappoints. I mean, have you seen Bamboozled?”

  “No. Is it good?”

  “Brilliant. I have the video. I’ll loan it to you. Even though I don’t know when you’ll have time to see it. I mean, it sounds like your record company is keeping you pretty busy.”

  “Yeah, that’s right. But if you say it’s good, then I’ll make time. So what’s next for you?”

  “You mean this evening?” he asked as a smile danced on his lips.

  “No!” I said, wondering if he was thinking what I was thinking. “I was talking about the future. You plan on giving Spike and John Singleton some comp, I bet.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to do features one day, but I just want to do the best work I can and not worry about the others,” Desmond said confidently.

  “So how does your better half handle your schedule? Being a director is very time-consuming.”

  Desmond released a hearty laugh as he slapped his knee. “Yancey … come on, now! You’re an actress. I know you can think of a better way to ask me if I’m married or serious about someone!”

  I smiled at Desmond, even though I was a little embarrassed that I’d been caught. I drank the rest of my champagne before responding.

  “So are you dating anyone?”

  “Not now.”

  “So you like being alone?”

  “Alone doesn’t always mean lonely,” Desmond said as he stood, stretching, as if he was about to leave. But before he did, I needed answers to a few important questions.

  “There is no polite way to ask you this, so I’ll just spit it out. Have you ever slept with a man?”

  Desmond didn’t hesitate and said firmly, “Of course I have.”

  I felt a twinge of sadness and disappointment bubble up within me, but I was glad that Desmond was honest. When I looked over at him, there was an amused expression on his face. We were both silent for a moment, and then he broke into a wide smile.

  “Yancey, come on, girl. Relax. When I say I’ve slept with a man, I mean my bloodline. My brothers. There were four of us, and we shared a room growing up. Why didn’t you just ask me if I was gay or bisexual?”

  “I didn’t want to offend you,” I said softly.

  “I wouldn’t be offended. And the answer to that question is no. Ain’t nothing wrong with it, but the person I intend to have as my life’s heartbeat will be a woman,” Desmond said.

  “So you’re just messing with me. You’ve got a sick sense of humor,” I said with a grin.

  “So I guess the rumors are true,” Desmond said.

  “What rumors?”

  “That the song ‘Any Way’ is about you and some dude you used to be tight with.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “People talk. I mean, I’ve heard a couple of DJs talking about it after they play the song. Controversy is good for a product.”

  “Let people talk,” I said. I didn’t like the fact people were talking about my past. Besides, if they were going to talk about me, I preferred that they gossiped with my version of events.

  “So is it true?”

  “No,” I said calmly.

  “So what other questions do you have for me?”

  I was thinking about what else I needed to know before I allowed the little surge of excitement I had been feeling to return. The phone rang.

  “Excuse me,” I said as I gently touched the top of Desmond’s hand. I went into the kitchen and picked up the cordless phone. “Hello.”

  “Yancey, have you seen the paper today?”

  “Hello, Ava. No, I haven’t.” Perfect timing, as always, Mother.

  “Then you need to tell me why you’re protecting that asshole Basil.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Read it! It’s right there in ‘Lines from LaVonya.’ Let me read it to you. ‘What pop star is getting revenge with her music and why won’t she talk about it?’” Ava said.

  “Look, Ava, I don’t know if that’s about me. I didn’t tell that LaVonya lady anything. I don’t know if any of my friends read her anyway,” I said.

  “Oh, I guess you’re too big-time now. I guess you only read Liz Smith and Cindy Adams,” Ava said in that I’m-going-to-drive-you-crazy-until-I-make-my-point voice I had heard too many times.

  “Look, I’ve got a guest. How long are you going to be in town?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe until you realize you need me to help your career. Any good manager would tell you that you can use this little tidbit to your advantage. Might help that little record of yours.”

  “My single is doing just fine. Thank you very much,” I said quickly.

  “I’ll thank you when you pay me my money back. That’s the only thank you I’ll give out. And I’m not talking about my commission for managing you.”

  “Ho
w many times do I have to tell you that I already have a manager?”

  “Then tell me, who?”

  I started to name one of the big firms like ICM or tell Ava that I had gone back to my former agent, Lois Drew. But I suddenly thought of the one person who would mess with Ava’s mind and I said, “Basil represents me now.”

  “What!” Ava screamed. “Now I know you’ve lost your mind! What does he know about the business? Why are you even talking to him after what he did to you?”

  “Ava, I don’t need to explain any of my business decisions to you, but I will say this: Basil will do a great job for me. He co-owns one of the premier sports agencies in the business and now he’s getting into entertainment. I have to go,” I said as I hung up the phone. Before I could exit the room, the phone rang again.

  “Hello.”

  “Listen here, missy, don’t you ever hang up the phone in my face. I want my money for your aborted wedding, and I want it now. Should I call Basil, since he’s your manager, and get a check?”

  “Don’t you call Basil for nothing! As soon as I get my first royalty check you’ll get your money.”

  “You two are fucking with the wrong diva. If I don’t get my money soon, you’ll both be sorry.”

  “Goodbye, Ava,” I said as I placed the phone back into its cradle. I walked back into the dining room and was greeted by the sound of my own voice. The ballad “I’m Not in Love” was playing, and I must say it sounded perfect.

  Desmond smiled at me and said, “I hope you don’t mind. But I had a sudden urge to hear a beautiful lady do her thang.”

  I wanted to cry at Desmond’s kind gesture, but instead I walked slowly toward him. Desmond opened his arms, pulled me close like he wanted to protect me from the world, and slowly we started to dance.

  The Liars Who Lunch

  I was sitting at the bar at B. Smith’s in midtown having my second club soda, when a woman looking like Pam Grier’s older sister walked in the place like she owned it. She paused, looked around and then strutted over toward me like she was walking the catwalk.

  “Are you Bart Dunbar?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m Bart,” I said as I lifted myself from the bar-stool and extended my hand.

  “Oh, honey, give me a hug. I’m Ava Middlebrooks, your partner in revenge,” Ava said as she hugged me.

  “Nice meeting you, and thanks again for the little care package,” I said as I pulled away from Ava.

  “Come on, let’s get a seat. I made a reservation and asked them to give us something private so we can talk without somebody hanging on our every word. You know, LaVonya and her gossip friends get a lot of their information from waiters and busboys,” Ava said.

  A model-thin Asian hostess led us to a table in the back of the pale pink restaurant. Ava pulled off her aqua silk scarf and stood with her back to me. It took me a few seconds to realize she expected me to help her out of her fur coat. This woman was playing her diva act to the hilt, I thought as I removed the coat from her shoulders. Ava was dressed in an elegant raspberry sorbet-colored sweater dress that looked like mohair or cashmere, and her body looked fabulous for a middle-aged woman. She was also wearing a lot of expensive-looking jewelry. At least, it looked expensive. Could have been Joan Rivers jewelry for all I knew. The waiter pulled out a chair for Ava, who sat down like she was a graduate of Miss Porter’s.

  “Would you like me to check your coat?” the waiter asked.

  “No, baby. It’s fine right here next to me.” Ava smiled.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Yes, darling,” Ava said, and then she looked at me. “I never get tired of saying this,” she whispered. Then she turned toward the waiter and ordered, “Bring us a bottle of your finest champagne, darling young man,” as she released an infectious laugh.

  “I don’t know if I should be drinking in the middle of the day. I have a couple of callbacks this afternoon,” I said.

  “Callbacks. Oh, how I love that word. Are you an actor, darling?”

  “Not really. I do some videos, and if I’m lucky, a commercial every so often. I hope you didn’t think I was being shady when you called me. There are so many crazies out there. I have to watch my back,” I said.

  “No, I didn’t even think about it.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “So you’re a model slash video hunk? You are a good-looking, man. I see why that Basil was after you. You need to consider letting me manage you once we finish with Basil,” Ava said as she picked a piece of sourdough bread from the table’s wicker basket. She delicately took the proper knife and spread butter on the edge of the bread.

  “So you’re a personal manager?”

  “Yes, but I only take select clients. Ava only deals with the best.”

  “Did I thank you for the little care package?” I asked as I pulled a sesame seed breadstick from the basket and took a small bite.

  “Honey, that’s only the beginning.” Ava smiled. “And yes, you did.”

  “So you must really hate Basil,” I said.

  “Hate is such a harsh word. Let’s just say nobody fucks with Madame Ava’s family and just walks away without scars. I have always been one of those girls who’d put my gym shorts on under my dress, Vaseline my face and go kick ass. Despite how glamorous I am now, that young girl is still a part of me. And she makes sure nobody messes with Mommy,” Ava said as she took a sip of water.

  “I hear ya. I know about that inner-child shit. So how do you know LaVonya?”

  “LaVonya is one of those people I call ‘air-kiss girlfriends.’ You know, we give each other kisses when we see each other, but we don’t really have long conversations unless we need something. She uses me, and I use her. Sounds like a marriage, doesn’t it, Bart?”

  “I guess so.” I had never heard anybody talk about LaVonya this way. Most folks were scared to rub LaVonya the wrong way. I guess Madame Ava wasn’t most folks.

  “So tell me, how did you meet Basil?”

  Just as I was getting ready to tell Ava my version of our meeting, the waiter came over with his pad in hand. “What would you like to have?”

  Ava glanced at the menu and said, “I’ll start with a nice green salad with oil and vinegar, and I’ll have the the slow-baked salmon.”

  “And what can I get for you, sir?”

  “For starters, the smoked salmon on scallion pancake, and the New York strip, medium well. I like it pink,” I said, thinking how wonderful it was to have someone wait on me for a change.

  After the waiter left, Ava asked me again about Basil.

  “I don’t know how much I should say, since my case is still pending. Let’s just say I made it hard for him to resist the generous charms and gifts from my gene pool,” I said.

  “Are your parents alive?”

  “I don’t talk about my parents,” I snapped. Why would she ask such a thing? I wondered what she was getting at.

  Ava touched my hand gently and said, “Touchy … touchy. That’s okay, darling. I don’t talk about mine either. You can pick your nose, but not your family. I just want to make sure I’m not dealing with some psycho like Basil. I should send you a copy of the report I had run on him when he was trying to marry my dau—oh, I mean sister.”

  “What kind of report?”

  “I hired a private investigator who tracked down all kinds of juicy information on him. Honey, that PI even got his shrink to talk!” Ava said, smiling like a woman proud of what she’d done.

  “Damn, you don’t play. I got to make sure I don’t cross you,” I said.

  I took a sip of my water as Ava smiled and said, “A very wise choice, Bart. I think we’ll get along fine. So tell me, is Bart really that good in bed?”

  For a moment I said nothing, and when Ava remained silent I finally said, “He’ll never hear complaints from me,” as a smile crossed my lips at the memory of Basil’s body covering mine like a canvas.

  The champagne was served, and Ava toast
ed me by saying, “Here’s to new friends and sweet revenge.”

  “Cheers,” I said as our champagne flutes clinked with the tone of a sinister symphony about to start.

  • • •

  After I got the money from Ava, I quit my waiter job at the Viceroy and spent my first day as a man of leisure on my new sofa flipping between Judge Judy and Oprah. When the phone rang, I picked it up and said, “Speak.” I was feeling my B-boy genes.

  “Bart Dunbar, please.”

  “This is Bart.”

  “I have Gail Dennis. Please hold on.”

  I put the television on mute, and a few seconds later Gail came on the phone.

  “I have some good news,” she said.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Mr. Henderson’s lawyers have made an offer.”

  “That was quick,” I said.

  “Yes, I guess they want to wrap this up as quickly as possible. Do you want to know what they offered?” Gail said. Her voice sounded like it was bursting with excitement.

  “How much I am getting?”

  “They’ve offered twenty-five thousand dollars, which I think is wonderful,” Gail said.

  “Is that all?” I said. I was thinking after taxes and legal fees I wouldn’t have shit. At least Ava’s money might be tax-free if I could convince her to pay me in cash.

  “I think it’s a fair offer,” Gail said.

  “You obviously don’t have bills to pay. And if I accept this offer, then that means he just walks away without anyone knowing what he did,” I said.

  “That’s right. His lawyer has inserted a clause in your acceptance that you can’t talk about the suit or your relationship with Mr. Henderson. Ever!”

  “Then fuck that. I want people to know about him,” I said. I thought I had lost enough men to women and Jesus. I was thinking about Brandon and this bumpkin named Dale I’d dated for a minute until he started trying to save me after fucking. He was so weird with his scripture-quoting ass. I let him stick around for a couple months longer than I should have because he had one of those “amaze-a-grow” dicks. The kind that on first sight looked like a link sausage but grew into a foot-long hot dog.

  “Mr. Dunbar, as your attorney, I am strongly advising that you accept this offer,” Gail said firmly. I started to remind her that I was running this show and I didn’t want to be forced to tell LaVonya that she was being uncooperative.