by Linda Verji
“Wow. Wow. Wow.” Kinder Green, a celebrated country musician and one of the three judges Nathan had hired for this audition, gasped. “Let me just say it again. Wow. Did you guys just pair up the violin, accordion and tambourine? Amazing!”
“Thank you,” the kids answered in unison.
Teddy Walker, a sixty year-old big screen legend, complimented, “The sound of your music just brought heaven down on this house. You guys are going places and I wanna be right there when you do…”
Nathan let the words of the judges fade into his consciousness as he scanned the people around and behind him. Maybe Shakira had walked in when he wasn’t looking. A woman or two threw him come-hither smiles, but none of them was Shakira and his heart dropped.
She hadn’t come.
His enthusiasm for the event faded in his disappointment. It was official. Shakira was pulling away from him.
I don’t care. She’s just a woman I was fucking for information anyway.Then why did it feel like something was stabbing him right in the middle of the chest? Why did it feel like someone had torn away a huge chunk of his heart and walked away with it? Why did he want to stand up and howl in frustration for all the world to hear him?
He couldn’t stand sitting in the middle of all these happy people while inside he was churning with pent-up frustration. He stood up, eased his way past several people in his row, ascended the stairs and exited the auditorium. He just wanted a little time to himself so he could sort through his emotions.
The last thing he needed was Edya Landa-Hollis.
But that’s just who was standing in front of Kasey’s desk.
Pictures in business magazines didn’t do justice to Edya and time seemed to have frozen when it came to her. Even with just her side profile as a guide, there was nothing about Nathan’s mother that said fifty seven. Any creases she might’ve had on her face had been ironed out by botox and good surgeons (Danny delighted in informing Nathan whenever she went under the knife or syringe).
Her hair was still the forceful black he remembered it to be. As always it was knotted in the tight chignon that slanted her eyes into a permanent narrow-eyed gaze. Her navy trouser-suit emphasized her straight-back and tall physique as did the red pumps to match her red handbag. She didn’t need the additional height from the pumps because even without them, at six foot one, she was still significantly taller than Kasey. The shoes only served to amp her intimidation factor – which is what she was probably going for.
Kasey pleaded, “Ma’am…”
“Don’t call me Ma’am,” Edya ordered. “I’m not your mother.”
Kasey tried again, “Mrs. Hol-”
“Ms.,” Edya corrected. “Ms. Landa-Hollis.”
“Ms. Landa Hollis.” The slight man swallowed nervously. “Mr. Hollis is currently attending the institute’s auditions.”
“Then get him for me,”
“I can’t do that bec-”
“And yet you will.” Edya set her bag on Kasey’s desk as she commanded curtly, “Get him.”
Kasey straightened his shoulders and opened his mouth probably to explain. Knowing that it wouldn’t do any good, Nathan chose to interrupt the exchange at that moment. “Kasey, I’ll handle this.”
Kasey’s immediate relief was obvious. His shoulders sagged as he released a breath. Edya turned to her face her son, a smile – or something masquerading as one because neither her forehead nor her eyes moved at the effort – widening her mouth. “Nathaniel.”
“Mother.”Nathan nodded curtly in greeting as he shoved his hand into his pocket. “What are you doing here?”
“Get your hand out of your pocket.” Edya’s smile dropped almost as suddenly as it had appeared. Her eyes journeyed up and down his body. “And stop slouching.”
He almost did. In fact he had to mentally chide himself for even thinking of obeying her. He was not under her thumb anymore. He repeated, “What are you doing here?”
She was silent for a moment, her blue eyes mirroring his expressionless observation before she gave in. “I don’t discuss business in front of…” She gestured towards Kasey with an airy wave. “…the help.”
He wanted to tell her where she could shove her business, but Kasey had seen enough of their family drama. The younger man was already shifting uncomfortably on his feet as his eyes shifted between Nathan and Edya in quick succession.
Nathan nodded towards his office. “This way.” Fighting the angry tension thundering through his blood, he led the way in. Emotions were a waste on Edya. She’d never understood or respected feelings, scorning anyone who let mere emotions overshadow their rationality as weak.
Once they were inside the office, he crossed to his desk but didn’t sit until Edya did – and cursed himself. Some of the lessons she’d taught him about what it meant to be a man had been tattooed on his psyche with inerasable ink. He was okay with using most of them, just not on her.
“I want to give you money for your little business.” The woman jumped right in with the insults.
What in the world would make her think he needed her money? He’d done quite well without it up to now. And the nerve to call Extreme Expressions little? Sure it was no Landa-Hollis Investments but damn it, it was a lot more than what she’d given him.
“No, thanks.” It took all his physical and mental control not to yell or shove his chair back roughly as he stood. Razor sharp tension evident in his voice, he said, “Now if our business is concluded-”
“Oh, sit down. You were always so sensitive,” Edya dismissed not in the least bit threatened by his barely leashed anger. Crossing one leg over the other and straightening the fabric of her pants, she asked, “Is this about that little thing twelve years ago?”
“Little thing!” he exclaimed. “You deceived me then disinherited me.”
“Pish, posh, bygones.” Unaffected by the negative emotion swirling around them, Edya toyed with the gold ring on her finger, her only jewelry, before announcing, “It’s time for you to come back into the family. Ezekiel could use the help.”
This wasn’t about Zeke. Zeke was quite capable of running the business and he had Danny to help him. Nathan knew his mother well enough to know that she was not above using her sons’ love for each other as leverage. He didn’t know what games she was playing now but he didn’t want any part of them.
“Like I said…” He strode towards the door and yanked it open. “…no, thanks!”
Maybe it was something in his expression, because after a moment of observing him, Edya picked her bag up and stood. “I can see that you’re in no condition to talk right now. We’ll talk after the pre-wedding dinner when you’ve calmed down. Let Miguel know what time you’ll be arriving so he can get your room ready.”
I’m not coming to your wedding. He wanted to shout at her but the words remained glued to his voice-box.
She stopped next to him, her eyes once more raking over him in unreadable appraisal. Shocking the hell out of him, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Nathan took a quick step back as if burned by fire. Ignoring his reaction, Edya nodded then swooned her way out of his office, closing the door behind her.
He started shaking once she was gone.
He didn’t even know why. Just that angry trembles rocked through his body as his body fought his mind for control. His body wanted to get the hell out of here while his mind wanted to conduct an impromptu exorcism. It felt like he’d danced with the devil and only narrowly escaped a burning.
He’d always known that Edya had hurt that part of him that had always trusted her deeply. However, until now he hadn’t known or acknowledged just how much anger he was holding on to. Seeing her face to face was like being dragged kicking and screaming into a past he had no interest in regurgitating.
He wasn’t looking forward to a repeat the experience but he also knew it wasn’t over. Edya would be back – once she decided to interfere getting rid of her was not as easy as just telling her to go. Before then he
’d have to learn how to check his emotions when they came to her.
A quick rap on the door interfered with his thoughts and expecting it to be Edya again, Nathan yanked the door open.
“I said-” he started angrily but stopped when instead of his mother’s irritating presence, his eyes met Shakira’s.
Instantly her gaze clouded with concern. “What’s the matter?”
The relief he felt was indescribable. Instinctively, he reached for her, tagging her by hand into the office as he shut the door. She seemed to know just what he needed because she stepped closer and wound her arms around his neck. Taking a deep gulp of her comforting scent and snaking his own arms around her, Nathan eased into her embrace.
CHAPTER 14
Shakira didn’t know what was wrong, only that Nathan needed her. As angry as she still was with him, she couldn’t deny him that. She sat on his lap, stroking his hair while he had his face tucked into the crook of her neck and his arms tight around her waist. Together they created an intimate scene.
She didn’t speak, instinctively knowing that he needed her more than he needed words. His breath fanned over her neck as his fingers teased over the white fabric of her gypsy blouse, sending prickles of awareness zipping through her body. Ignoring them she held him in silence.
It took a while but in time he lifted his head. When his eyes met hers there was muted embarrassment in their depths as well as gratefulness. His voice quiet he said, “Thanks.”
She didn’t say anything. Instead she cupped her palm over his jaw and lowered her face. Their lips met in a tender kiss and she melted into his body, letting her own strength merge with his weakness. There was something about seeing Nathan so vulnerable that pricked at her and in that moment her intention for coming into his office faded into the background.
She’d come to his office with plans of finally confronting him about his spying on her. For two days she’d waited for him to apologize and explain himself but no admissions of guilt were forthcoming. Instead he’d settled for trying to bribe her with tickets to London’s auditions. It irked her because there was no way she could refuse to attend those auditions, but he’d probably read her taking them as a sign of forgiveness – and it wasn’t. He wasn’t getting off that easy.
But the moment he’d opened the door, her intentions had flown right out the window. Pale as paper, he’d looked like death warmed over. It probably had something to do with the tall woman who’d marched out of his office, but in that instant all she wanted to do was erase the haunted look in his eyes.
Their lips fused as she matched the easy rhythm of his tongue with her own. His lips firmed, then he tilted his head and he changed the tempo of the kiss into one that was more desirous than comforting. His passion easily ignited hers and in response the heat began to build in her, swelling with each taunting meet of their mouths.
The firm muscles of his thighs shifted underneath her ass as his hold around her waist tightened. He dragged her closer to his heat, pressing his fast burgeoning erection against her thigh. There was no denying his desire, nor hers. Her breasts hardened and swelled, ripe with desire. She was just about to grab his hand and guide them in that direction when the vibrations on the side of her thigh dragged her out of her Nathan-caused haze.
“Sorry,” she apologized as she dragged her passion-bruised lips away from his. She extracted her phone from jungle green capris. She swiped at the screen revealing the message from London.
Are you watching? We’re getting on stage in ten.
“Shoot,” she cussed as she tried to hop to her feet. The tight band of arms around her waist prevented it.
“What?” Nathan asked, his eyes still clouded with desire.
“London’s about to perform.” She hated to leave without at least trying to find out what had caused his break-down but it could wait. London couldn’t. “I have to get to the auditorium.”
“I’ll come with you.” With one last peck, they exited the office and made their way to the hall. Just in time too because they’d just managed to squeeze their way past the people seated on their row when the MC announced the Xin Monsters.
London was in rare form. The woman knew how to work a crowd with her voice, her vivacious personality and her dancing. Enzo and the rest of the band disappeared in her shadow as she owned the stage. Soon she had the crowd on their feet and clapping their hands even though they didn’t know the song.
The moment the band struck the last note on their afro-indo-house fusion performance, the crowd burst into thunderous applause and the judges fell over themselves praising the Xin Monsters. Shakira couldn’t help the wide smile on her face as she too applauded. It felt like she’d won too.
“You were amazing,” Shakira complimented once she and Nathan met them backstage.
“I know. I know.” London popped her imaginary collar then dropped the act almost immediately as her eyes widened in anxiety. “We were okay though, right? We didn’t embarrass ourselves on TV or anything, right?”
“Nah, you couldn’t be embarrassing even if you tried.” Shakira drew her into a quick hug.
London turned to Nathan with a grateful smile. “Thank you for giving us the opportunity.”
“I’m glad I did,” he said as he snaked an arm around Shakira’s waist. “You guys have amazing talent.”
“Let’s hope it was enough to take us into the next round,” Enzo said as he joined them.
Nathan seemed to have recovered from his earlier lapse but he didn’t leave Shakira’s side. He eschewed their good seats at the front of the auditorium in favor of the less attractive ones at the back so he could sit with her, London and the band. When the Xin Monsters decided on an impromptu celebration at a nearby eatery after the MC announced that they’d made it into the next round, he agreed to join them.
Considering that he was a bit older than London and crew and technically about to be their boss, he fit in quite well. He and Shakira tucked themselves into a corner where they could watch the reveling band indulgently while intermittently turning to each other to kiss. Whatever anger she felt faded as he held her close. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to confront him about snooping - but that when she did it would be with no anger.
“D’you think they’ll make it into the roster?” she asked later that night as they prepared for bed.
“It’s up to the judges,” Nathan said as he watched her plait her hair into a thick rope. He’d already settled in bed and the grey covers were bunched up at his waist revealing the tempting expanse of his muscular chest. “But I think they might. They were really good.”
“How exactly do those weekly shows work?” Shakira wrapped a silk headscarf over her hair before making her way towards the bed, the hem of her ice-blue nightie brushing against her upper thigh with the movement. “Will they also have to be students at Extreme Expressions?”
“Only if they want to.” He lifted the covers for her to enter the bed. As soon as she did, he drew her closer to lay on his shoulder. “We reserve some performance spots for our students and others for local groups who can’t afford to pay for classes.”
“So they won’t pay anything to perform?”
“No.” His voice rumbled against her ear. “In fact we’re paying them. The individuals who perform on any particular night take eighty percent of the ticket sales and we keep twenty to meet any overheads.”
“That’s really generous of you.” She traced the ‘love’ imprinted on his right pectoral muscle before following the chain strangling its way down his taut stomach.
“I’ve been there.”He shrugged. “I know what it means to be a struggling artist.”
Her fingers paused in their actions at those words and she lifted her gaze to meet his, her curiosity peaked.
“What?” he asked, laughter twinkling in his eyes.
“You just don’t seem like the struggling artist type. Trust-fund baby maybe.” She only realized how rude the words might sound after she said them. “I
’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-”
“No, you don’t have to apologize,” he interrupted with a chuckle. The amusement in his eyes faded as he added, “You’re right. I was – and still am – a trust fund baby. Do you remember the woman who walked out of my office today?”
She nodded.
“That was my mother.”
Though his voice was flat as he said those four words, Shakira’s intuition told her that there was so much more that lay unsaid behind them. Running her fingers over his chin, she urged, “Tell me.”
“I always wanted to be a dancer.” He laughed, but it was more self-derisive than amused. “Can you imagine that? A Jewish boy wanting to be a dancer! I’m surprised Edya didn’t ship me to military school the moment I told her…”
His mother had done worse. Edya had pretended to support his dreams. She’d told him that he had until he was eighteen to try and make it in the cut-throat world of choreography. If he couldn’t then he would go to business school as all Landa-Hollis men were expected to do and join the family business. Nathan had entered every competition he could – and flopped in all of them.
Discouraged and believing himself a failure, Nathan had tucked his tail between his legs and allowed his mother to high him off to Harvard. He’d proceeded to drink himself into a stupor only sporadically pulling himself out of it to attend classes.
He probably would’ve never known what his mother was up to if a night of binge drinking hadn’t led him to a meeting with a former judge on one of the competitions he’d entered. The judge was disgusted that such a talented young man would waste his talent like that.
The story had come out then.
While encouraging him to try out for more gigs, Edya was bribing judges on the side not to let him through. She hadn’t even denied it.
“Kira, I don’t think I’ve ever been than angry in my whole life,” Nathan said as he stroked Shakira’s arm. “I quit college the next day and cleaned up my act. The moment Mother found out I wasn’t at Harvard, she cut me off. I wasn’t twenty five yet so I couldn’t touch my trust fund. Zeke supported me for a while as I looked for a way to make money out of choreography, but when Mother found out she demoted him to the mailroom.”