I shake my head “no,” and he nods his head in understanding. A smile tugs at his lips that confuses me. I frown at that. How can he be so calm? Unless… “Wait, So you knew about me?” I ask with my heart threatening to break. I don’t think I could take it if he knew and didn’t come for me.
“Nope. I didn’t know. But one look at you and I started to wonder. As soon as you said Lynn Davis, I knew. Honestly, I expected her to show up on my doorstep many years ago. We were quite young and reckless back then.
Ew.
“Well, don’t feel bad. She never told me about you either,” I breathe out.
“You look just like Camille,” he whispers.
“Who’s Camille?” I tilt my head and ask.
“My sister,” he answers. “So how’d you find out about me if she didn’t tell you?”
“Her son came and told me a few weeks ago. Before that, I never knew who you were,” I tell him. “He said she got wasted some years back and spilled everything.”
“Lynn’s son? You mean your brother?” he asks looking a little confused.
“I said what I meant,” I say a little more defensively than I mean to. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he laughs.
“So you actually believe you are my father? Just like that?” I inquire skeptically.
“Follow me,” he says standing up, and so do I. I follow him through the halls of the lavish office building. The brick walls are aligned with countless hit albums, plaques, and pictures of great artists and musicians.
The rude receptionist rolls her eyes at me for the second time today, as I walk past her. I let out an exacerbated breath, and Noah turns to look at me then at his receptionist.
“Don’t pay Ayana no mind,” he chuckles. “She just all talk,” he teases her, and she sticks her tongue out at him.
“She really needs to work on her people skills,” I mutter, causing him to laugh hysterically as we load the elevator.
Once we make our ascent and step off, we make our way down a long corridor to a set of double doors, where behind them is his office. It’s on the top floor of the building. The floor to ceiling windows offers a panoramic view of the city. There’s a piano in here as well. I walk over to it just like I had the one downstairs. “You play?” I turn to ask him.
“I dabble. Nothing like you though. You blew me away. You’re a force to be reckoned with, girl.” Hearing his words, I smile trying to suppress it.
Noah Evans is impressed by me.
He picks up a picture frame off his desk and walks over to me with it in hand. “You want to know how I believe without a doubt that you’re my daughter?” He hands me the frame without waiting for my response.
I look down at the photograph of the beautiful woman and gasp. Her piercing grey eyes look just. Like. Mine. Except there’s joy and happiness dancing in hers. Whereas, mine mask sadness and pain.
She actually looks a hell of a lot like me in general. I look like her rather. The only major difference is her smooth mocha skin. But our noses and face shapes are almost identical. It’s kind of bizarre.
“That is Camille. My sister and your aunt. You look just like her. Except for the complexion of course,” he grins.
“Wow,” simply say. I take another minute to gaze at the picture. “Maybe I can meet her one day?” I ask softly.
“I would have loved that, but unfortunately, Camille died ten years ago. Car accident,” he says sadly.
“I’m so sorry,” I offer, but he just waves it off. “I miss her, but it was a long time ago. Looking at you almost feels like getting a piece of her back. Besides, I have her demon spawn children to keep her memory alive. I believe you’ve met Ayana,” he jokes.
I throw my thumb in the direction of the door. “That is your niece?”
“Your cousin, yes,” he laughs. “My mother and I raised her, and her brother Keith after Cammie died. Momma’s going to flip when I tell her I have a daughter. Wait till she sees you,” he starts to ramble enthusiastically.
I can’t help the pang of jealousy I feel hearing that he raised his niece and nephew while I was stuck in Hamilton. Immediately, I feel bad for it. They lost their mother. What else was he supposed to do?
“So, you don’t want to do a blood test or mouth swab or some shit?” I ask, immediately regretting my use of bad language.
Maybe he is my father. I usually don’t care what people think about what comes out of my mouth.
“Not unless you want to,” he chuckles. “I’m pretty confident that your mine.”
That makes me feel great, but I won’t be at peace with the ‘what if’ hanging over our heads. “Actually, I do. I’ve had the rug pulled out from under me one too many times. I’d rather know for sure.”
“Not a problem I’ll have my assistant make us an appointment this week.” He looks at me almost proudly. “Gia,” he whispers. “You’re such a beauty. I can’t believe I made something so pretty.”
My cheeks blush, and warmth spreads through my chest. “My name is Georgia. I just shortened it to Gia when I left home. Lynn said she named me that because of you. Said this was where you were from. It’s the first and last nice thing she’s ever done for me.”
“I’m so angry she didn’t tell me about you,” he says genuinely.
“Me too,” I say softly.
We look at each other silently for a moment. “So what do you do Gia?” he asks.
“Well up until about three weeks ago I was a waitress — not many other options with no education. I had to drop out of high school when I left home. I’ve been going to night school to get my diploma. I graduate in a couple of weeks.”
“It seems we have a lot of catching up to do, but I’d like to attend your graduation if that’s okay.”
“I’m sure a busy guy like you doesn’t have time to see his illegitimate, late bloomer daughter walk across a stage,” I say rudely brushing off his request for an invite. I’m sure he was just being nice anyway.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, probably sensing the regrettable bitterness in my tone. “Life’s been hard for you, huh?” he assesses.
I don’t answer. Hard? That’s an understatement. I try to remind myself that it’s not his fault he wasn’t there. He didn’t even know I existed.
“Well, I plan to be there,” he says emphatically. “Later, I want to hear more about how you grew up too.”
Like hell you do.
“Where do you work now since you said you quit waitressing?” he asks taking a step back in our conversation.
“Oh. I um…I actually perform a couple of nights a week at Ralph’s,” I smile.
“My girl. So you want to sing then?” He lights up at that thought.
“Me, sing? No. I mean I do sing at the club, and it’s fun and all, but I love playing and writing more than anything.” A smile creeps up on my face just as I realize I figured out what I want to do with my life. I feel like an idiot that I didn’t see it before. Writing has always been my therapy and music has been my lifeline and brought me joy during the darkness. I want to write and produce music.
Wow! I finally figured it out! Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
The first thing I want to do is call Nathan and tell him. Then I remember we aren’t together anymore. It’s been an emotionally painful few weeks without him. I want to share all this with him but I can’t.
Noah doesn’t seem to notice my brain fart. “So, when do you play next?”
I tell him I’m playing Friday night at ten and he assures me he’s coming. I actually play Wednesday night too, but I need a little extra time to wrap my head around all this.
His secretary was able to get us into the lab first thing in the morning, so we plan to meet for breakfast and a blood test.
What can I say? Just another Tuesday.
Chapter 20
Nathan
“You know, if Gia knew I was meeting you gu
ys telling her business, she’d flip the fuck out. Then I’d be on the outs like you two exiles,” Quinn rambles stuffing her face with bacon.
“Yes, you say that every time we talk,” I tell her.
“Well then, hurry up and fix things, so I don’t have to do this! I hate keeping shit from her. That’s what got you kicked off the island in the first place.”
“I know. I’m sorry. How is she?” I ask about the woman I love but won’t talk to me.
“She’s doing okay. I know she’s missing you. Otherwise, she’s fine.”
“Where’s she working now?” Trish asks my next question. She’s been so worried about Gia. She’s been looking even more frail than usual. What she did was kind of messed up, but I can tell she’s sorry.
“You know, that I don’t know. It’s like some big secret. She goes to work really late and brings home a lot of one dollar bills though. Perhaps I should be more concerned about that,” she says pointing her eyes to the sky.
“I’ll find out where she’s working,” I tell her.
“Okay detective,” rolls out sarcastically. I roll my eyes at that.
“How’s the prep for graduation?” I ask.
“Oh!” she shrieks excitedly. “Gia! She figured out what she wants to do,” she says, but doesn’t offer anything else, continuing with her breakfast. Trish and I both look at her expectantly.
“Which is what girl?” Trish asks her impatiently.
“Oh yeah. Something about making music,” she says vaguely.
“Well hell, that can be anything,” Trish grumbles.
I smile. Because I know whatever it is involves songwriting. I knew she’d figure it out. I’m so proud of her. I just wish I could’ve been there with her when she decided.
“She met her birth father too,” Quinn reveals. That shocks me. Before I can ask more about how that went, she drops yet another bomb. “And get this. You’re never going to believe it. Her bio dad is none other than the super producer extraordinaire; Noah Evans!” she whispers excitedly.
“What?! No way.” Trish and I both gasp.
“Are you sure?” I ask, stunned beyond belief.
“Yup. Gigi requested they have a DNA test performed, but he says he can tell just by looking at her she’s his daughter. They went yesterday to the lab. They’ll know in a couple of days for sure. It’s so crazy.”
“Well, I’ll be,” Trish sighs out.
“Oh, hey now. Don’t go blabbing or trying to sell the story to the tabloids…Trish.” Quinn pointedly throws a warning look at the old waitress.
Trish throws a dish towel at her in response.
Quinn chuckles. She knows Trish wouldn’t ever do anything to purposely betray Gia. Especially now.
“I’m kidding. I actually think she’s close to caving on forgiving you,” she confesses pointing her fork at the waitress whose eyes come alight with hope. She misses her a lot.
I look to Quinn hoping for similar news, but she just shakes her head.
Damn.
I sag back in my chair with disappointment.
“Well, I got to get to work.” Quinn wipes her mouth and places her napkin on her empty plate. “I’ll see you two losers later,” she teases.
“Bye Quinn. And thanks,” I tell her. She winks and heads out the door.
I pull out my phone and send Gia yet another text. I send her several every day, but she’s only returned one. About a week ago late at night, I sent her a text telling her I love and miss her. She’d simply responded, “Me too.” I’ve heard nothing from her since.
I need to dust off my PI skills and find out where she’s working now. It’s weird that she hasn’t even told Quinn. I’m pretty positive she’s not doing anything like Quinn jokingly implied, but I’m still worried about her. I’ll find out though. It might be an invasion of privacy, but her safety is the most important thing to me. So tonight I’ll be putting my tailing skills to work.
I’m parked across the street from Gia’s, at a service station waiting for any sight of her. Quinn told me Gia usually leaves around this time, but I came a little early just in case.
Around nine o’clock, she finally emerges from the Condo making her way to her car. She’s wearing a long trench style coat shielding herself from the cool night air. I can’t see her face, but her hair is down and blowing in the light night time breeze.
After a fifteen minute drive, she pulls into a parking lot at a local jazz club downtown. I pass to not arouse suspicion and circle back once she’s had enough time to make it inside. I park in the lot for the business next door and walk to the bar.
A hostess greets me as I walk into the swanky establishment. “Hello, Welcome to Ralph’s. Would you like a table or a seat at the bar?”
“I’ll take a table. Preferably in a corner towards the back,” I request.
“Okay. Will you be expecting someone?”
“No. It’s just me.”
“Very well. Right this way.”
The outer appearance of this place is very misleading. The interior of the bar has an upscale feel. The staff is well dressed, and soft jazz music sounds out through the speakers.
I follow the hostess to a corner table in the back as requested. The lighting is dim in here in general, but this corner is rather dark. Perfect for going unseen.
The stage is lit up though. A band is setting up, preparing to play presumably.
“Can I get you a drink?” the hostess asks.
“Yeah actually. I’ll take a vodka tonic.”
“I’ll have your waitress bring it right out,” she smiles.
“Thank you.”
I look around trying to spot Gia and now that I have a moment to think, am relieved that this, in fact, did not turn out to be a strip club.
She must be waitressing here then.
This is the perfect place for her to work. With the live music, she has to be in heaven.
I peer towards the bar to see if she’s serving drinks, but still no sign of her. After a few minutes, I start to wonder if she actually came in here, but I noted her car still in the lot when I walked over.
The waitress drops off my drink, placing it on a napkin as the lights on the stage go completely black, and a gentleman’s smooth voice comes over the speakers introducing the act about to perform.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Ralph’s.”
The crowd claps and cheers, eager to get to the live entertainment.
“I hope you’re all “In a Sentimental Mood” tonight because we have a real treat for y’all. Playing their rendition of the John Coltrane and Duke Ellington classic, put your hands together for our special guest, saxophone great Marcus Hughes and our very own sensation, Miss Gia Davis.”
The mention of Gia’s name has my back stiffening and me scooting to the edge of my chair and my brows furrowing in confusion.
The audience claps and the lights flash on to illuminate the stage. I see the most beautiful woman in the world sitting at the piano.
Gia.
She’s wearing a floor-length emerald green sequin dress with a high split exposing all of her right leg that’s facing the crowd. Her hair is styled in large barrel curls with a side part like an old Hollywood starlet. Her makeup is perfect, and her pouty red lips make me want to rush the stage and throw her on top of the piano she’s sitting at and have my way with her.
Wait! What the hell? Since when does she play the piano? At a jazz bar? How could I not know that? Just how good is she?
Countless questions filter through my head just before I get my answer to the latter.
The sax player smiles over at Gia as she gently cracks her intertwined fingers and smiles back.
Gia is the first to play but is quickly joined by the soulful sax player. They’re backed up by the house band. The melody is soft yet sultry. Gia closes her eyes for a moment and plays, gently swaying to the music. A small smile creeps over her face, and I notice a few
couples get up and dance to the music.
I’m stunned. It’s crazy I didn’t even know she could play. She doesn’t even own a keyboard, let alone a piano. She’s good. Better than good. She’s very skilled, so this is not a new thing.
The instrumental duo makes eye contact frequently feeding off each other’s vibes. When the song comes to an end, Gia stands walking toward the sax playing musician. He takes her hand and offers an innocent kiss to the back of it. She slightly bows her head in his direction, and then they face the audience. He bows, and she gives a subtle curtsy as everyone claps and cheers for the duo.
Breathe Page 13