“Tara, no one is lying. Whatever it will take to fix this, to prove what I feel for you is real, I’ll do it.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m done with all of that anyway.”
“You can’t say that. Baby, don’t say that.”
“Goodbye, Quinton.”
When she hung up, he sat holding the phone to his ear, at a loss to what he could do to change her mind.
* * *
Tara gave up on getting a night of restful sleep. Her body had grown weary of unbroken slumber and was now rebelling. She had awakened just as the sun was peeking above the horizon. She passed the time by going for a morning run.
Under a hooded sweatshirt, she began her jog. After forming a plan of action, she returned home during her fourth mile and took a quick shower. Tara would surprise Aaron with a ride to school before getting back to work. Her project of setting up her own label to release her own music was building momentum inside her and could be the perfect distraction until she was strong enough to deal with Quinton. Pleased with her plan, Tara left out the house, humming a new song.
By noon, Tara was in her home office with her laptop powered up. A call was in progress on the speakerphone. Pacing the floor, she listened to her lawyer’s latest report. Spin had sent out press releases to announce the big news, but Tara kept her focus on tying up other loose ends and ignored the internet chatter about the latest transaction that would turn the industry on its axis.
“So, what’s the problem?” she asked.
“Do you realize how much you are giving away?” Eugene asked. “Why don’t you reconsider the points, and I can draft up a new deal memo.”
“Eugene, I want this taken care of, and negotiating from a low figure will only slow up the project. Just send it to Quinton the way I asked and make sure he signs it ASAP. He’s the only person on here with an unresolved split.”
“Tara, you are giving away your money.”
“He will take it one way or another so why delay what is inevitable.”
“Tara, you’re emotional right now. We’re talking to their legal and trying to work out a deal to recover…”
“Eugene, I’m paying you, right?” she snapped. She wanted the negotiation over Quinton’s payment for his work to handled quickly, with as little interaction as possible. To help make it happen, she offered him a larger-than-normal share of her profit. “Then do as I ask and just worry about your paycheck.” Tara disconnected the call.
She returned to the computer screen, trying to read her label copy, proofing the lyrics and liner notes for her CD.
Annoyed that she had another incoming call, Tara touched the screen to answer it. “Quiana?”
“Hi, Tara. I know you probably did not expect me to call, but I wanted to make sure you received the invitation for my baby shower. We haven’t always been on the best terms, but I really would like for you to attend. I’m sorry they sent it with little notice.”
“I got it and RSVP’ed, thank you. But I don’t think I can make it now.”
“Tara, Q made a mistake by not sharing everything with you sooner, but my brother loves you—”
“Quiana, I appreciate what you’re about to say, but I need time to think things through. I hate to be rude, but I have to finish something before I leave town,” and she hung up.
Tara blew out her frustration. Now someone was buzzing her from the gate.
She moved to the intercom to find out who the visitor was since she had sent Quinton’s security detail packing along with him, and now she regretted her hasty decision. Flying solo was not a good idea when she had so much work to do, and no one to assist her.
“May I help you?” she asked. The visitor with a florist logo explained she had a delivery for her, so Tara allowed her entry, standing cautiously by the security system as the woman made multiple trips to her delivery van.
After the second trip, it surprised Tara to see the elaborate arrangements he’d given her. Wiping her brow, the woman said, “We had to make a few different arrangements to accommodate the request.”
Tara tipped the woman and thanked her. She then went inside to find the card among the many flowers filling her living room.
For my best friend, I miss you and I love you. Q.
Tara tossed the card onto the floor and returned to her office to find her phone so she could call Sydney.
“Sydney, I have a million and one things that I have to do, and I want you out here with me. Whoever you hired should be more than acquainted with our system by now, so you can fly out tonight.”
“I’ve also been busy looking for new security personnel, among other things,” she said flatly. “You made that a priority in case you forgot the people you just fired giving no one any notice. And I can’t come out this evening because I have a doctor’s appointment, but I can be there first thing on Wednesday morning.”
“Fine. Meet me in New York.”
“Anything else?” Sydney asked.
“Yes, call Quinton and tell him to stop sending me flowers.”
“I guess I can, but… never mind. I’ll do it.”
“Sydney, just do as I ask and make my life easier,” Tara ordered. She hung up and then found her attention drawn to the words on the monitor in front of her.
As if taunting her, his name was all over the screen, and it was driving her crazy. Written by . . . Produced by . . . Played by . . . Most of her work happened with him. Tara tried to change her focus by reviewing the schedule.
Spin had the nerve to email her earlier that morning. The promotional dates for her first single would have her flying to a different city, sometimes two, in a day. If it wasn’t one stress, it was another. She didn’t feel up to the workload, but she needed it to get back on track and away from him.
Emotionally spent, she let herself go limp in her chair, rubbing her temples and doing breathing exercises. Eventually, she felt relaxed enough to return to the completion of her project. She had less than three hours before her hired car arrived to drive her to New York, and she wanted to have all this done before she left and leave this chapter behind her.
* * *
Her doorman in New York greeted her by meeting her curbside. He held the door open, extended a hand, and subtly spoke. “Welcome back, Miss Russell. You have a guest waiting for you inside.”
Tara groaned. Quinton.
“Thank you, Samuel.”
“I set her up for the time being in the hospitality suite.”
Her? “Who is it?”
“Your sister, ma’am.” He helped retrieve her bags, and Tara moved on ahead.
Calling over her shoulder to Samuel, relieved yet disappointed but worked to hide it. “Send her up whenever you’re ready.”
Tara was barely inside her apartment when she heard the knock. She moved to greet Jordan, and when the door swung open, she was shocked to find Mia instead.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, eyes wide open.
“Surprise,” Mia said with a nervous shrug. She held out her arms, encouraging Tara to hug her. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Tara led her sister into her living room and invited her sister to make herself comfortable.
“Tara, thank you for not slamming the door in my face,” Mia said.
“I was almost tempted,” Tara joked. “Have you spoken with Jordan?”
Nodding, Mia replied, “I have. She surprised me and said she is trying to come out for a few days herself.”
Perking up, Tara smiled. “Perfect! Then I can talk to both of you at the same time.”
“I know you two made up, but what gives?” Mia asked.
“You’ll have to wait until she gets here. Are you in town for long?”
Mia picked at nothing, looking away from her. “Here for as long as you’ll have me. That’s if you’ll have me.”
“I see.”
“I know I can be a lot sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“Often.” Tara’s deadpan
glance didn’t let up. Mia held both hands up in her defense and continued, “But in the end, you know you still love me,” Mia teased.
“That may be true.”
“And the three of us are all we have. We need to do better. I have to do better, and that starts with making things right with you.”
Tara moved to the spot next to Mia on the sofa. Mia wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and Tara leaned into her sister’s embrace. “Thank you.”
“I love you, sis.”
“And I love you, too.”
* * *
The following morning, Tara greeted Sydney unceremoniously. “You’re here,” she said.
“Good morning to you, too,” Sydney retorted, looking concerned. Rubbing her eyes, still tired after catching the red-eye from California. “How about we catch up on what’s going on first.”
Now sitting down, Tara slapped her thighs. “Let’s see. You wanna catch up.” With her tongue in her cheek, she thought for a second. “Well, while you were away, I had to deal with some intern-turned-director who wanted to give me his input on how to sequence my project. Then I had to deal with Eugene, who has yet to deliver me the deal memo from Quinton. If it weren’t for my fans, I’d say to hell with this release. The sooner I get this project out there, the quicker I can reclaim everything Spin and Q stole from me. Oh, and Mia is staying with me.”
“What?” Sydney said incredulously. “You’re joking, right?”
“It’s way too much to get into, but she was here when I arrived, and I let her in. As for business, I have a list waiting for you, and I need you to make arrangements for my sisters and me to go to Los Angeles. I want to use my studio for a few days to record with them and that’s the only place we can do it with no one knowing what we’re up to,” Tara said, handing Sydney a notepad filled with errands and requests that she’d been jotting down since her jog the other day.
Sydney took one look at the list and rubbed her face. “I’m going out for a spell to see how much of this I can take care of this morning. When I get back, we can go over your Monday meeting at Spin.”
“Oh, that’s right. I moved the meeting up to tomorrow afternoon. Now hurry back, because I have another list that I am working on right now.”
* * *
Quinton had detected no change with Tara, and Sydney was refusing his calls except the one time she begged him to stop sending Tara gifts because it somehow was making Sydney’s life pure hell. He sat at the dinner table with Latrice and Patty but had no appetite. He pushed his food around the plate, finally moving it away.
Latrice broke her silence, asking, “You want some cake, Quinton?”
“No, ma’am,” he quietly replied, standing to take his plate into the kitchen.
Patty and Latrice looked at each other.
“Girl, I’ve never seen him like this,” Patty observed aloud. “Has he opened up to you yet?”
“Oh, hush now, Patty,” Latrice said before she joined Quinton in the kitchen.
“Quinton Jonathan Ellis, what am I to do with you?” she asked.
He turned and faced her. “I know you would have liked her, Latrice.”
“I know; I can tell by the way you’re hurting,” she replied. “My question is, if she is everything you want, why are you giving up so easily?”
“I’m not. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Yes, you do.”
Patty came into the kitchen but stopped short when she saw them deeply involved in a conversation. She backed away to the door calling as she went, “I’m sorry. I can come back.”
Quinton assured. “That’s okay, Patty. I’m about to head back to the house. I need to get ready for my flight in the morning.”
Latrice asked, “You’re flying back?”
“I’m going to L.A. for a few days, but first, I need to head to New York to take care of some business. I’ll be back Sunday or Monday.”
“Coming back so soon?” Patty asked.
“You don’t want me to?” he joked. “I have to drive my truck back to New York, and I still have some more stuff to work out down here.”
“Quinton,” Latrice said.
He leaned close to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be fine,” he said before walking out.
* * *
“Talk to me,” Quinton said, answering the first call he received since his flight touched down in New York, the one he’d been waiting for. His manager’s voice greeted him in return.
“Are you sitting?”
“Yes. Please tell me whatever it is that it’ll work in my favor,” Quinton replied as he hopped into the waiting vehicle picking him up at LaGuardia.
“It took some digging and a lot of chasing down, but what I uncovered is not good and wonderful at the same damn time. To make a long story short, Luca Ferrio had no business selling Spin Records, because he doesn’t have control of it anymore.”
“What? Who does?”
“Timothy Russell’s estate.”
Chapter 21
The atmosphere at Spin was different. Tara wasn’t sure what to expect after the news of the merger/acquisition, but this would have never been on her radar.
Much of the staff was scarce, and the excited buzz that often greeted Tara every time she stepped into the building now replaced with low hanging heads glued to the desktops in front of them. Emails assured her nothing had changed, but clearly, everything was changing.
“Tara!” Rebecca Kincaid exited one of the nearby offices and rounded the reception area. The woman offered her a genuine smile that appeared almost apologetic. “Thank you for moving our meeting up.”
Tara stood still, not ready to greet someone who she once considered a friend. “Rebecca.”
Rebecca stopped and dropped her hands at her side, recognizing the real undercurrent of mistrust and hurt. “Let’s head into the conference room at the end of the hall for more privacy.”
Rebecca turned to look back at Sydney, who was walking behind them. “We just need Tara.”
Sydney’s brow noticeably rose. “That decision belongs to Tara?”
Tara nodded. “I’ll call you in when we’re ready.”
Tara and Rebecca stepped into one of the more private rooms, the one her father preferred for its soundproof aesthetics. There were no glass walls for onlookers to view the most confidential of meetings either. And the windows faced a private terrace with a view of potted greenery keeping even the nosiest of skyscraper neighbors from having a peek.
Unlike Tara’s usual meetings at the office, all seats were vacant and not one bottle of imported water, nor pen and pad in sight.
“Where is everyone?” Tara asked. “I thought this was a meeting with my entire team.”
“Please, have a seat.” Rebecca followed suit as Tara sat in the center of the long table. “That meeting was postponed because I felt it was best we talked face-to-face first.”
Tara’s shoulders stiffened as she peered around the room. “Are any of the other new owners planning on ambushing me today, because if I lay eyes on Robyn, I swear she’ll never be able to rely on her face for a career ever again once I get through with it.”
Rebecca’s mouth twitched before she collected herself. “Robyn won’t be here, but to answer your question, Quinton flew in for this meeting, too.”
Flew in?
Rebecca stood and walked to the door to open it, and sure enough, Quinton entered the room.
“Tara.”
Tara froze, staring at him. He was haggard and empty of the energetic appeal Quinton was known for every time he stepped into a room. Even his attire was off. Had he slept in that shirt?
She didn’t speak. Instead, she reached for her belongings and moved to stand.
Rebecca looked between them and stepped forward. “Please. We need a few minutes of your time. You’ll want to hear what we have to say.”
Tara stilled herself before opting to stand down.
“I first want to express how sorry I am for how this entire situ
ation played out,” Rebecca started. “When the opportunity presented itself, I only saw it as a brilliant business move and not an underhanded means to cut down not only a woman I respect and admire but one I’ve considered being a friend for as long as I can remember.”
Tara humphed loud enough for everyone to hear and folded her arms across her chest. She angled her head and narrowed her eyes, giving Rebecca the cue to move forward, but there was no guarantee she was ready to receive anything she had to say.
“My father and uncle had this crazy notion that one day they could change the music industry, making it a level field for artists and the big machine behind them. They wanted to take on the digital trends that made many of their other ventures extinct. What we see now, the streaming and download capabilities, the almost instant access to product, my uncle knew it was only a matter of time, and he wanted in. He knew we had to change how we played the game if we still wanted a piece, but when my uncle died, my father lost interest in KINSON and passed his part of it on to me.”
Rebecca turned to Quinton. “And my cousin Robi inherited the other half. For years, it was only about the residuals from their earlier work. That’s all we cared about at first until Q came along. He sparked new ideas in KINSON, and he gave it new life.”
“So when I divorced Robyn, it was established that she owed me and splitting her shares in KINSON was how we settled it. I just had no more say,” Quinton explained.
“And that’s all cute and sweet, but I don’t care to hear about your company, so please don’t tell me anymore. The last thing I want to hear from either of you is a pep talk about how you plan to relaunch Spin and all the blah blah blah bullshit because I’m only here to finish delivering on my obligations so I can get the hell off your roster as soon as possible.”
Rebecca cleared her throat, and Quinton slipped his fingers into a folder and pulled out a stack of papers. He handed them to Rebecca, and she flipped through the pages.
“I brought you here today to see how we can make sure you remained a top priority with Spin. Girl Power is my middle name, and I would never find myself on the side of a business that strips another woman of what she deserves. However, Q recently uncovered something that changes everything.”
I Can Love You Page 25