I Can Love You

by Mackenzie Joy

  “I’m kidnapping you for a few days. You’ve been so busy taking care of me and working in Japan that you haven’t rested fully. I can tell your shoulder has been bothering you, and that worries me. What happened to the physical therapy your doctor prescribed?” she said, conveying her concern in a low, earnest voice. “You’re tense and stressed, Quinton. Let’s go away this weekend. You, me and Aaron.”

  “Babe, we don’t have time. I need to get this done.”

  “A clear head and refreshed body will do wonders for you,” she insisted. “Just look at the past twenty-four hours. You went from the studio to the NARAS events and then back to the studio. Quin, baby, I want you to spend the next seventy-two hours thinking about nothing. No music, no business, just us on the beach relaxing. A friend of mine is letting us use her home on Star Island, so no interruptions or distractions allowed.”

  Smiling, she knew a trip to the Florida beach was just what the three of them needed.

  * * *

  Quinton filled a mug with coffee then stretched, feeling much better. Tara was right. The weekend getaway was perfect.

  He rolled his shoulder, noticing a lot less tightness until he remembered the notification he received earlier that morning.

  Tara left earlier to take Aaron to school, and he was free to make the call to Robyn. Her agitated voice told him she still was not a morning person.

  “Robyn, why didn’t you call this shit off yet?”

  “Do you have any idea what time it is? The sun is still up,” she replied.

  “There is no reason to fear the sun unless you’re a vampire,” Quinton answered. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Q, I’m not the one doing it. This is all Becca’s idea. I happen to think it’s a brilliant one and riding shotgun while she executes it. I get to stack money in the bank and watch your relationship deteriorate at the same time.”

  Trying to compose himself, Quinton moved the phone away from his face before answering. “I swear, Robyn, there are so many things in life that I regret.”

  “Q, life is not a bad song that you can remix, hoping the result will sound better,” she answered testily. “It’s done. With most of the shareholders in favor, the vote is just a formality at this point. Who wouldn’t want to jump on a deal this good? And being that you have no say with our shares, you know what side I’m on. Oh, and nice family shot. I didn’t know Tara had a son. The timing of this little detail will make the news of this deal that much sweeter once we drop it.”

  Quinton frowned. “What are you talking about?’

  “Baby, a star as big as Tara is bound to have someone on her trail all the time. You know the tabloids have been itching for some dirt on the little princess. Maybe I should call someone and add a few details about her other half,” she thought out loud, hoping to provoke him. “Nah, I have better things to do with my time than to make your life hell.”

  Robyn hung up, and Quinton sat on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out his next move. Robyn’s revelation of a story in a tabloid and knowing Tara had a son bothered him. He got dressed and drove her car to a local convenience store. What he saw plastered on the cover of a trade rattled him, and he rushed back to the house and called Tara on her cell.

  “Hey, honey, have you been calling? I left my phone in the truck and was inside the school, talking to Stephanie. I’m thinking about inviting a few people over one day this week for dinner,” Tara said.

  Quinton rubbed his head as he skimmed the exclusive story. “Baby, I need to talk to you. Hurry back home,” he said, knowing she had planned to make a few stops before returning to the house.

  “Quinton, what is it?”

  “Just come home and be careful. Don’t worry, okay?”

  “You’re scaring me, Quinton.”

  “Nothing to be afraid of. Just come home.”

  Quinton looked at the headline and called their publicist.

  * * *

  Quinton paced the floor during a conference call with Pamela and Sydney, periodically looking at Tara, who sat huddled on the chaise with her arms wrapped around her drawn-up legs.

  “I was out of the country with another client. I told you I just returned the night before to discover this morning just like you did,” Pamela explained. “I can get her on any of the morning outlets.”

  “You should have been on top of this!” Quinton shouted. “If you can’t balance your clients, then maybe we should find someone who can.”

  The tabloid had hit the stands on Friday, but the buzz started flowing with on-air gossip shows and bloggers that morning when more trustworthy sources began digging.

  “I don’t think a morning talk show interview will help. We have to think about how this will affect Tara and Aaron. Seeing her break down on national television just so ratings can get boosted will not help her situation, just the networks. Think of something else, Pam.”

  “When I heard about it being a possible story, I tried reaching you and Tara, but then I dismissed it and told the inquirers their question was ludicrous. Do you know how many rumors get started out of boredom and people stirring up trouble? I would never have guessed any of it to be true,” Pamela replied. “I can’t see Tara having a child and, well, I guess you never know these days.”

  Quinton glanced at Tara again and lowered his voice. “Now it’s up to you to fix this, and fast.”

  He reached for the phone to end the connection.

  Before Quinton could go to Tara, security notified them that Marcus had arrived.

  Quinton opened the front door, and Marcus glared at him, ready to step inside without an invitation.

  “Hold up,” Quinton said heatedly. “You can’t just walk in here like—”

  “Why don’t you just mind your own damn business,” Marcus retorted.

  The two men stepped in closer to each other ready. The head of security approached, stopping next to Quinton, prepared to escort Marcus back outside.

  “Stop this right now!” Tara yelled. “Can we sit down and work this thing out together? Please,” she begged, lowering her shaken voice. Her emotions had been raw since learning of the story an hour earlier.

  Quinton eyed Marcus as he walked into the living room. Tara sat down, and the two men followed suit.

  Tara looked at Marcus. “Quinton asked security to send someone over to the school to keep an eye on Aaron. I talked to Stephanie about it, and she is okay with the plan. Don’t worry, these guys are good and will go unnoticed. The key is not to disrupt Aaron’s life right now. I want to make sure no one harasses him or takes any more pictures.”

  Scowling, Marcus dismissed her actions. “Tara, this is my son, and I will decide what’s best. Because of you, he is in this mess.”

  Quinton sprang up, chest out and chin up, ready to lunge at Marcus. “Get off it, man! Aaron is Tara’s kid, too, and you need to respect that.”

  Marcus stood up, shooting daggers from his eyes, shouting, “As I said earlier, you need to stay out of this! This does not concern you.”

  Tara moved between them to break it up. With both men towering over her, clearly about to come to blows, Tara picked up a vase of flowers and flung it to the floor. The loud crash halted the altercation. “Now, can we sit down and act like adults for once? This is about Aaron, remember, not a battle of testosterone. I don’t care that the world knows I have a son. My only concern is how they’re trying to spin this because the one they’ll hurt while doing it is him. All I want is for Aaron to be okay.”

  Marcus picked up the checkout-stand trade. “I guess the security thing is okay. For now,” he grudgingly agreed.

  “It’s just a precaution and to keep any media hounds away from him, just in case,” Tara assured him. “Our publicist, Pamela Wellings, is trying to counter the report. In the meantime, say nothing to anyone. Although the story alleges that Aaron is my son, it doesn’t confirm it. That’s what they are working on right now.”

  “I walk into the office this morning, and everyone
is buzzing about my son being on the cover of this,” Marcus said with a disgusted sneer pointing to the copies littering her coffee table. “This is what I was afraid of.”

  “Listen, man, I am not here to make things harder,” Quinton said, turning to Marcus. “I care about both Tara and Aaron. I know Tara wouldn’t allow anyone around her kid she can’t trust. That party she had here were your friends and people who she’d trust her life to. I can’t think of a person there that would do something like this. They love Tara too much. The people who do these sorts of things are for money, clout, or to hurt someone. The source of this story went straight to a tabloid, which means the person who leaked it wanted money more. Otherwise, they would have gone straight to the internet and bypassed getting paid.”

  When Marcus nodded, Quinton continued. “If it were something they had dug up on me, it wouldn’t matter, and I’d ignore it, but this is hurting them. Let’s keep life as normal as possible for Aaron for him and his relationship with Tara. Aaron has enough to deal with without us yanking him up out of school and away from his friends.”

  “I agree,” Marcus told him.

  Pleased, Tara looked between the two men and exhaled an appreciative sigh.

  A phone rang, and Quinton answered the telephone in his hand. He talked briefly with Pam and then hung up. “Well, it appears one outlet has people willing to confirm Tara is Aaron’s mother, and someone sold them pictures that will run in the next story.”

  “See, Tara, this is why I didn’t want him going out to California with you. Everyone around you is probably out for what they can make off your name,” Marcus said. “I know how Mia likes to do things like this to you. Wasn’t she one of those who sold a story once before for personal gain?”

  Smirking, Quinton said, looking directly at Marcus, “The photos are from a birthday party held at your house. Someone called after seeing the story that ran over the weekend because they have details about the life Aaron had before Tara came back into it. Why don’t you worry about checking your friends?”

  Chapter 18

  Tara, Quinton, and Aaron entered the elevator, leaving the studio that Saturday. It was her son’s first experience witnessing a full session, including the recording of live strings they had added to a song.

  “How you feel, Blue?” Quinton asked. He intertwined his hand with hers as the three stood surrounded by extra security. Once in the lobby, they expected the ever-present paparazzi to be outside ready to trail their next move. For now, they enjoyed the silence before stepping into the New York streets.

  Tara curled up against him and tilted her face up to accept a quick kiss. “We did it!”

  “No babe, you did it. All I did was coax a few more songs out of you.”

  Having kept half of her old songs, Tara scrapped the ballads and mid tempos and replaced them with new ones she and Quinton wrote. Several interludes, “mini songs,” tossed in to transition the listener when the mood of her music changed, creating a more personal sound and rounding out the entire album. She felt as if her music shared a story with her fans—her love story. The closing song, dedicated to her father and performed only once on tour, also added.

  “Any ideas on what you will call it?” Quinton asked.

  Tara stifled a yarn and was trying hard to stay awake; their long sessions had begun to take a toll. “So far, I am feeling the name of the second track, ‘So In Love’.”

  “I like it,” he said as they exited the building.

  The cold, brisk New York air whipped around Aaron, Tara, and Quinton as they stood outside the studio. Her project was now ready to be mixed and mastered.

  The sound of cameras clicking and shouts from the photo hounds around them drowned out any attempts at conversation, so they stopped talking to focus on shielding Aaron from as much of it as possible. Quinton helped Tara and Aaron into the SUV and then got in himself.

  Once inside and the vehicle pulled away from the curb, Tara leaned into Quinton. “Remember when you mentioned the label idea? I’m ready to make it happen. Resigning with Spin just for my masters will be like making a deal with the devil at this stage. I’ll try again to buy them instead.”

  Quinton smiled and squeezed her hand.

  * * *

  The following week, Quinton returned to New York to sit in on the mixing sessions. After the final session, ensuring nothing but the best for Tara, he retreated home to his brownstone, too tired to let anything bother him. The ringing of the telephone seemed far away to him. After it went unanswered, Quinton felt the phone in his pocket vibrate.

  “Hey, KeKe,” Quinton said into the speakerphone, slowly removing his clothes and turning on the shower. “How was your appointment?”

  “Good,” she replied casually. “I go back next week for some more tests, but they’re standard.”

  “I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”

  “I am Q. Although it doesn’t sound like you’re following your own advice.”

  “I’ve just had a lot on my plate. KeKe, I almost asked Tara to marry me the other day.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” she responded.

  “You wouldn’t be mad if I did?”

  Quiana laughed. “Mad? Why would I be mad? I’m not the one going to bed with her every night. Listen, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “I wish you liked Tara. It would make things much easier.”

  “I heard Robyn’s been spending time in New York. She shocked me when I spotted her at Jamal’s funeral. What does Tara have to say about the first Mrs. Ellis?”

  “She doesn’t know.”

  “What?” Quiana exclaimed. “Doesn’t know about Robyn being in town or about Robyn period.”

  “None of it. Never had a reason to tell Tara before.”

  “Q! You have to tell her!”

  “I know, Ke. I couldn’t find the right way to say, ‘Hey, baby, I forgot to tell you I got married before to your friend Rebecca’s cousin.’ But Ke, it gets worse. Robyn and Rebecca are about to do some grimy shit that’ll cause Tara to never speak to me again. If I could tell you what it is, I would, but trust me when I say it’s some fucked up shit, and there’s no way I can come out of this mess unscathed.”

  “It doesn’t sound like Rebecca is much of a friend to Tara if it’s that bad. You can’t even give me a hint?”

  “I tell you everything, but ethically . . . shit legally I can’t. I want to and considered saying to hell with it, but that could set Tara back even more.”

  “You’re planning on marrying her. There should be no secrets between you.”

  “There can be when it’s a conflict of interest and possibly federal charges brought against my ass if I do.”

  “Damn. It’s that serious?”

  “I told you. I’ll be honest, though. I got scared of losing her, and that’s what made me almost propose. I wouldn’t regret it if I did. I love her. I mean, really love her. I just can’t risk her leaving me.”

  “Something tells me Tara would be a lot more understanding than you give her credit. No one is perfect, Tara included. You want to make sure you are the one who tells her because if you don’t. . . Quinton, she deserves to know whether or not she forgives you.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Q, look at it like this. When you married Robyn, you were young and wanted to do what you believed was the right thing at the time. You have since cut all ties and have no control over what your ex-wife does. Robyn is just an evil person. Don’t allow her bitterness to have the final say on your happiness.”

  “I love you, Ke. Rub the baby for me.”

  “I will,” Quiana said affectionately. “Please get some sleep, brother. You are worrying me.”

  “It’s just a lot running between New York and Philadelphia, but I am staying in bed all day tomorrow, and then we start mastering Tara’s stuff on Friday. I want to be there for that.”

  “Quinton, I never thought I’d see the day you would fall head over heels in love.”<
br />
  Quinton laughed. “And proud of it, too.”

  * * *

  After attending an assembly at Aaron’s school, Tara returned home, stopping to retrieve her mail from the mailbox. A small stack of envelopes consisted mainly of fan mail from those who were hip to her recent whereabouts in Pennsylvania. Tara tossed it all on the bed and took a bath before working on plans for dinner with Quinton that evening. If she hurried, she could order something delivered from one of their favorite restaurants.

  While waiting for the tub to fill, Tara sifted through the envelopes. An invitation from California caught her eye. To her surprise, Quiana’s friends invited her to the baby shower. The date was a week from Sunday, and she notified the host that she would be attending.

  She then got into her bubble-filled bathtub. Relaxing in the warm water, she thought her quiet afternoon at home was turning out to be extraordinary.

  The phone rang, and Tara reached for it, expecting Quinton.

  “Hey, Sydney. What’s up?”

  She didn’t like the way Sydney exhaled or how long it took for her to speak. “Tara, is Q with you right now?”

  “No. No one’s here. Why?”

  Sydney sighed again, and Tara swore she heard a low-key groan. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but we have a problem. One of my friends, who is a journalist, has been following Rebecca and Luca’s relationship. She was curious if it was personal, business-related, or both. Her gut was telling her business and that something big is in the works. She did some snooping, and her instincts, as usual, were right.”

  “Okay…”

  “Tara, Rebecca’s acquiring Spin and paying a pretty penny for it, too, but that’s not all.”

  Her stomach dropped as she waited for Sydney to spit out whatever she was holding back. “Just tell me.”

  “It’s not Kincaid doing it all. It’s under KINSON Holdings. I found out KINSON once belonged to Rebecca’s father and Pete Nelson.”

  “The late Pete Nelson?”

  “The one and only. Pete Nelson used to be married to a Kincaid, which is probably how those two got into business with each other, and now their kids run KINSON: Rebecca and Robyn Nelson.”