I Can Love You

by Mackenzie Joy

  “Ladies and gentlemen, our baby sister, Tara,” Mia announced.

  Tara stood, and Quinton was the first to hug her, and Tara clung to him, holding on tightly. He released her, so others around them could also congratulate her, but she too caught up to see the faces. She did, however, look toward Sydney and Aaron to wave.

  Amid the clamorous applause, Quinton murmured, “You better get up there, Blue.”

  He took her hand to help her up the steps, and once she reached the stage, she turned to thank him with a smile. Once she turned her back, Quinton reached out and removed the sheer wrap from her shoulders, tucking it under his arm. He then joined the thunderous ovation that accompanied her walk to the stage.

  At the mic, she stood with tears streaming down her face and looked out into the audience, searching for Aaron but did not find him among the many faces. Lowering her head and biting her lower lip, she took a deep breath before looking back up into the spotlight shining on her, taking a moment to reflect on where the ten-year mark had taken her.

  Alone. In a room full of people that were celebrating her, Tara suddenly felt lonely.

  Her mother, Tara’s heart and soul, was not there to celebrate with her. Her father, the force behind her becoming a superstar, was not there to join in the festivities. Her sisters were there, standing only a few feet away, but an invisible wall still divided them. Her son was with her, but he had no idea what his presence truly meant to his mother.

  All reminders that her career meant nothing until she found a way to love and live again.

  * * *

  “This way!” Several members of the press directed her on how to stand for their perfect shot. She was holding the weighty crystal trophy and standing alongside her sisters. Tara smiled graciously in the direction of each flashing bulb until Mia made a haughty exit, earning a disapproving look from Jordan.

  “Yet they call you the diva,” Jordan whispered in Tara’s ear. Tara laughed through her nervousness and wrapped her arm around Jordan.

  “Thank you for being here.”

  “We wouldn’t be anywhere else. And yes, I said we. Mia is just… Mia.”

  Tara looked up when she heard the mention of Quinton’s name. His first public appearance since the shooting had already caused quite a stir on the red carpet, and now they were in for a repeat. Photographers rushed forward when they spotted him, and as on cue, Tara and Quinton began posing for pictures, something they were good at doing together.

  Quinton congratulated her before checking out the trophy. Smiling slightly, Quinton spoke into Tara’s ear through his teeth. “Did I mention how good you look tonight?” he asked, his eyes roaming over her body in front of the cameras, intentionally creating a stir.

  Tara knew the routine, especially when she wore something daring. “Why, thank you, sir.”

  Notoriously known as a flirt, Quinton winked at a female photographer. He held up the sheer wrap for Tara and turned to face her. “I guess you didn’t need this thing.”

  Tara searched her body for the cover-up, realizing it must have fallen off while caught up in the excitement of her award. “How did you get that?” she asked, reaching for it. But he kept it out of her reach, teasing her lightheartedly in front of the cameras.

  “Quinton, sweetheart,” she said, fuming under the guise of a smile. “My wrap, please.”

  In a low voice, he said, “No, not tonight. I told you how fucking incredible you look. Don’t cover yourself up like that. Trust me.” In a louder voice intended for the media, he asked, “Doesn’t she look beautiful tonight?”

  A chorus of compliments egged him on. Finally, Tara, too, succumbed to his charm, deciding it was too late for concern over a sheer piece of cloth. After all, she conceded, Quinton was doing what Pamela had always urged him to do—create a buzz.

  * * *

  After the show, Quinton and Tara headed toward a private elevator to attend a party in her honor. Sydney and Aaron had returned to the villa for the rest of the evening. Accompanied by private and hotel security, the couple passed a wedding chapel at the hotel. Quinton stopped abruptly.

  Seeing his playful expression, Tara braced herself. “Why do I have a feeling you’re about to get us into trouble?” she asked.

  “We’re adults; we can’t get into trouble,” he replied.

  “You are obviously mistaken, Mr. Ellis.”

  “Wanna make a bet?” he asked, knowing she could never resist one of his ‘dare-you’ games.

  “Game,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

  “I dare you to go inside that wedding chapel.”

  “Quinton, you’re crazy! That’s easy.”

  “Come on,” he prodded, “go in there.”

  “And then do what? Just stand there?”

  “If a couple is getting married, sing for them. That’s all you have to do.”

  “What do I get out of it?” she asked.

  “A trip to the spa when we get back to L.A. If you bring me back an Elvis costume, I’ll throw in dinner at the restaurant of your choice. Otherwise, it’s your treat.”

  “And if I do it, give me at least three songs when you get back from Japan,” she said. “And you must tell me a secret you would never share with anyone.”

  They shook hands, while their security guards looked inscrutably.

  Tara edged toward the chapel door and opened it slightly, but Quinton came up from behind and opened it further. She took a tentative step inside but hesitated.

  “We better not. What if someone’s in there? I can’t go crashing a wedding.”

  Instead of agreeing, Quinton pushed her through the entry. Startled, Tara gasped and grabbed his arm, causing them both to stumble into the Vegas-style wedding chapel. A young couple in the middle of their nuptials stopped listening to the officiant and looked back at the two self-styled daredevils.

  Tara and Quinton’s eyes met, and they both burst out laughing.

  “May I help you with something?” a member of the staff asked them while eyeing the ring on Tara’s finger.

  Tara shook her head, and Quinton grabbed her hand. Together they bolted from the chapel laughing all the way to the hotel’s penthouse suite.

  * * *

  The party was in full swing when Tara arrived, but that didn’t stop everyone from pausing their socializing to applaud for the guest of honor. With Quinton by her side, Tara took time to connect with all the guests in attendance, thanking them for attending the party Spin gave for her.

  Reaching the record label’s key executives and exchanging pleasantries, Quinton squeezed Tara’s hand, signaling he was stepping away to give the group privacy. “I’ll be right over there if you need me,” Quinton whispered to Tara, pointing to the open balcony door. Tara nodded and resumed talking with the vice president of sales at Spin Records, openly stifling a yawn.

  Quinton chuckled, and Tara felt the heat from her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

  “That was some show. Ever consider doing a project with your sisters?” the VP of publicity asked.

  Tara gave him a side-eye and sipped a glass of the champagne a passing waiter offered her. “Yeah, we thought about it. We wanted to call the group Pure, but the label we were on shot it down soon after.”

  Rebecca Kincaid, an heir to the Kincaid Music Publishing dynasty, stood amongst the group and giggled. “I can’t wait to hear your next one. When can we expect it?”

  “Yes, Tara. When?” Luca Ferrio, the president of Spin, asked. “You missed your deadline.”

  “And with good reason. I was busy dodging bullets, remember?”

  “It was due before your boyfriend dragged you into his drama.”

  “Luca,” Rebecca warned.

  “I’m tweaking a few things,” Tara plastered on a fake, icy grin and explained, choosing to avoid the snippy remark.

  A frown marred Luca’s face. “It was fine the way it was. Your delay is costing us. We’re here kicking off the anniversary release tonight and ha
ve nothing to tease everyone with.”

  Rebecca reached to wrap arms with Luca. “Now now, tonight is about celebrating Tara. It’ll come together soon. Tara’s been around long enough to get how this works.”

  Luca looked at Rebecca and slipped his arm from hers. “Very well.”

  “What do you have in mind for promo on this release?” Tara asked the publicity exec, hoping to release the tension in the conversation.

  The woman spent some time describing how they would market the milestone all year with special appearances, promotional events, and a double release of a greatest-hits compilation and her new album. “Of course, we need you to turn over those masters like yesterday so my team can get started.”

  Turning over the masters would mean she’s finished, and what control she has on the project would transfer to Spin Records. Tara swallowed hard, not ready to think about parting with her work just yet.

  “Speaking of masters. Ah, all the people I need to see in one place,” Tara heard the voice of her longtime lawyer Eugene Solomon before he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Well done, Tara. Timothy would be proud tonight.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Eugene looked at Luca. “Tara’s contract is up for review as soon as she turns everything in. Ready for that?”

  Luca laughed, sobering from his prior mood. “Tara is family. You mention the word contract like it’s a threat. Surely you’re not thinking of leaving us, Tara.”

  “If that were the case, you wouldn’t force her to earn out what should rightfully be hers on a contract with terms that’s as old as the stone age. Perhaps it’s time we look around a little to see who appreciates our favorite star the most.”

  “This all sounds like a conversation that’s treading on awkward. I need to find Quinton, anyway. Thank you all for hosting this for me.” Tara waved her fingers at the group before slipping away.

  * * *

  A mid tempo bop played and Quinton, knowing Tara wasn’t in the mood for discussing radio adds or marketing strategies, rescued her from the discussion with yet another label exec. He led her into an empty area, placed his hand on her waist, and started to dance.

  “What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Tara asked sternly.

  He grinned, still feeling mischievous from their previous caper.

  “I’m trying to get this party started. In case you haven’t noticed, everyone is waiting for you to dance,” Quinton said, starting to move to the latest releases spun by Las Vegas’s best DJ. “Come on, baby girl, loosen up.”

  She followed his lead and moved with him. “You’d think an invitation-only affair would feel more relaxed without unwanted prying eyes.”

  “Only if the list has the right names on it. I saw you earlier with Ferrio and Solomon. That must’ve been fun.”

  Tara waved it off. “Eugene rained on everything when he reminded them I’m due for a new contract. He informed Luca of my options, and he nearly fainted.”

  “He should. It’s a new era, and you have the upper hand in this scenario. Go for yours. You deserve it.”

  The dance floor soon became crowded. People around them cajoling the two-some into dancing to the next three songs.

  “Whew!” Tara exclaimed as they left the dance floor. “I can’t hang like I used to,” she said, taking a glass of champagne from a tray. She left the crowd and moved to one of the few places that remained unoccupied. Quinton drank from his glass of water and joined her near a window.

  “Quinton, aren’t you sore?” she asked, looking down to his leg.

  “I’m cool, Tara. How are you doing? Are you enjoying yourself with everyone around?” he asked, nodding in Mia’s direction.

  “This is a great party, and it’s an honor that they’re doing this for me, but let’s be real. Their only objective for the party tonight is to get me to renew my contract while trying to charge this shit back to me on the back end. They would also love it if I released the masters from this project to them, but you and I both know that is not happening. Not only do I want to change up this release, but that’s my leverage in negotiating.”

  Quinton returned a wave to a passerby before taking in the penthouse view. He brought Tara closer and hugged her body to his as they looked out at the Las Vegas Strip. “I don’t know if Ferrio will let you hold out that long. You haven’t fulfilled this current contract, so technically, you owe it to them.”

  Tara reached for his wrist and looked at Quinton’s watch to check the time. “I’m going somewhere quieter to call and check on Aaron.”

  He nodded. “I’ll hang out over here for a bit. You know the routine. Signal when you’re ready to leave.”

  * * *

  “I should have known you’d be here, Q,” Robyn said. “Seeing you here was worth the trip back from Paris.”

  Instead of looking directly at the statuesque beauty, he focused on Tara several feet away. Through clenched teeth, he said, “Now is not the time. How did you slither past security, anyway? I thought this party was invitation-only.”

  Unaffected Robyn calmly said, “Don’t force me to create a scene, especially when it’s your little girlfriend’s party. Wouldn’t it be a pity if her night gets spoiled by a little birdie like me chirping the truth about a big ‘cheetah’ like you?”

  Quinton turned and looked straight at Robyn, forcing their eyes to meet. “Go near Tara and regret it,” he coldly warned.

  “If you think you can get away playing by your rules, Q, you’re dead wrong. You have no idea who you’re messing with now and how much it might end up costing you,” she said, grinning with an evil gleam in her eye. Then she sauntered away to rejoin a group of fellow models.

  With Robyn gone, Quinton pulled Tara aside and whispered flirtatiously, “Ready to leave?”

  Tara nodded and took his arm. “Yeah, I want to get back to the room. I’m getting a bad vibe right now.”

  Quinton nodded and smiled while they said their goodbyes to Spin’s team. Inside the elevator, he reached for her hand to kiss it. “Let’s go downstairs to the casino and have some fun.”

  Tara looked at him, eyes wide with astonishment. “Quinton, I want to go back to my room, kick off these shoes, and relax. Better yet, can we go home tonight? They’re all wide awake at our hotel and probably wouldn’t mind heading back early.”

  Quinton looked down at their hands together and nodded. He wouldn’t mind getting out of town tonight either. “I’ll make the calls,” he said, pulling up Sydney’s number in his contacts.

  * * *

  Tara knocked on his bedroom door with her face freshly scrubbed and hair pulled away from her face. She was looking more like a coed in her oversized pajama shirt with several of the buttons undone at the top and a hem that reached midthigh. Sitting comfortably on the bed, he signaled for her to come in after she peeked inside the open door.

  “Hey, Quin, I hope I’m not disturbing you. I saw the light was on—”

  “It’s fine, Blue,” he interrupted. “I was sitting here debating if I should force myself to sleep or turn on the TV. What’s up?”

  Tara sat at the foot of his bed. “I can’t sleep.”

  Quinton laughed and tried to sound as casual as possible. “Me, either. I guess it’s from all the excitement from earlier.” He patted the spot beside him, and she scooted across the bed to reach his side. “What’s on your mind, Blue?”

  “Do you know that tonight was the first time I was on stage to receive an award, and my father wasn’t there to see it?”

  He reached to touch her cheek, running his knuckles down it gently. “I know it hurts, Blue, but look on the bright side . . . you had your son with you.”

  She smiled. “I keep wondering if my father ever got the chance to see Aaron, his only grandchild. I now know he knew about him, keeping track of Marcus all those years.” Before Quinton responded, Tara hurriedly changed the subject. “So, Mr. Ellis, you owe me for the dare.”

  “I do? So, Miss Russell, exactly what do you want
to know?”

  Pondering the question, Tara said, “It has to be something you normally wouldn’t share with just anyone, but I guess Quiana doesn’t count since you two share everything.”

  “I think I tell you just as much as I tell her,” he said.

  “Okay, Mr. Ellis, here it is . . . You’re always asking about my love life or lack of one, so what’s up with yours?”

  Quinton smirked. “After earlier . . . and last night, you have to ask?”

  “I also know that you’re Q . . . You are known for having different women all the time. Ever since I met you, you’ve had someone. I’d be a fool to think what we’ve been doing makes me special.”

  “You’re wrong, and that scene gets old after a while. What would you call what’s happening between us?”

  “Friends… with benefits,” she answered, with an edge of uncertainty.

  “Do you think that’ll work forever?”

  “We’re just having fun in our free time. Let’s say friends with benefits… for now. I’m not clueless Q. I know what this is, and the minute you’re ready to stop what we’ve been doing, I’m okay with it. Our friendship will never change because of it.”

  She linked a finger around his, and he pulled her close for a long kiss. He slowly eased back to look into her eyes.

  “Friends first,” she said.

  “Friends first,” he answered.

  “Spin has decided to run with the single and need the remix like yesterday and since you owe me three songs, any way we can work out something . . .”

  “Blue, I got you. I’m guessing you need it now.”

  “Well, not right this second, but I don’t want them giving it to just anyone so . . . in the next twenty-four hours?”

  He wanted to welcome the distraction of remixing her song, but his mind was not in a good place.

  Tara eased back and lowered her eyes. “How thoughtless of me. You already have obligations.”