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Love in the Limelight: Volume One

Page 21

by Brenda Jackson, A. C. Arthur


  Saying she’d hit the nail right on the head would be a cliché, but no less true. “Can I first get a clarification for the statement ‘someone like me’?”

  “You know, a big-boned woman. Even though I really hate that saying. Bones have nothing to do with your weight. Anyway, is that why you’re upset?”

  Her statement left him incredulous. He hadn’t figured her for a woman with self-esteem issues surrounding her weight. Although he could see where they stemmed from. She’d grown up in L.A., where gorgeous, thin bodies seemed to fall from the sky. A woman who was outside those parameters was not the norm. Plus her own sister was a model. Yet, here on the East Coast, especially in the South, women with a little meat on their bones was the preference. Or was that a cultural thing? Did only black men appreciate a shapely woman? Maybe? Probably? But right at this moment he wasn’t concerned about the generalities. He was more concerned with her and squashing any misconceptions she might be having.

  “First, let me start by saying I’m a thigh man. Silicone breasts and twenty-inch waists aren’t my style. So the answer is no, your physique has nothing to do with my sour attitude.”

  She looked as if she’d released a held breath and he was surprised to realize that’s exactly what she’d assumed. He wondered if some other jackass man had made comments about her weight.

  “Then it must be my singing. You don’t think I can do this CD? I’m not what you want on your label? If that’s the case then I don’t see why you’d bring me all the way out here. I mean, if you want someone else I can easily go back to L.A., to my teaching job.”

  She was talking faster, pushing her chair back and standing, about to leave.

  “Hold on,” he said quickly, getting up himself and coming around the table to grab her arm. “Wait a second, that’s not what I was thinking at all. I love your voice.”

  That stopped her cold and she looked up at him. “You do?”

  He nodded. “Your voice is perfect. Especially for this project. I wasn’t so sure at first, but that was my being shortsighted for thinking about the commercialism and the bottom lines instead of focusing on the music the way I should have.”

  She was shaking her head, trying to pull out of his grasp. “I don’t understand.”

  He only moved his hands to her shoulders, holding her still and close. “When the execs at Empire called me to talk about you and what they envisioned it didn’t match with what I saw in the pictures or heard on the demo. Jason was so excited after he’d heard you at the karaoke bar, he’d only told me that we’d hit it big scooping you up before any other companies could hear you. So I went into this project with one thought. Then I saw you and you were different. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I’ve got my focus back. I know what I want.”

  And Lordamercy, so did she.

  She wanted Akil to kiss her again.

  Instead he guided her back to her chair, where she sat and tried to rein in her tumultuous hormones. She’d brought up the kiss and he’d neatly waltzed around that conversation. Instead he’d focused on explaining why he’d been so nasty to her the last few days. And while she understood what he’d said she still felt he could have handled it differently. At any rate, she was cool with letting bygones be just that.

  By the time Akil had returned to his side of the table and taken his seat, Mrs. Williamson and Nannette were back with trays of food. When they were finished, after two trips to the kitchen and back, it looked like a buffet for about fifteen people.

  “Does she always cook this much?” Charlene whispered to Akil when Mrs. Williamson was gone.

  He grinned. “She’s got it in her head that I don’t eat enough while I’m away. So when I’m home she cooks enough to feed an NFL team.”

  Charlene nodded her agreement. “I see.”

  “Well, shall we?”

  “Ah, just a sec,” she said then bowed her head, about to bless her food.

  “My mother used to do that,” he said sort of absently.

  Charlene paused and looked back up at him. “What? Say grace before she ate?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you don’t?”

  He shrugged and looked sort of embarrassed, then said, “Not usually.”

  “Well, you should always give thanks for what you have. Others aren’t as fortunate.” When she was about to lower her head again she saw that he looked a little perplexed. So she extended her arm across the table, wiggling her fingers to signal that she wanted his hand. He gave it to her and their fingers entwined.

  “Now bow your head and close your eyes.”

  “I know that part, Charlene.”

  “Oh, okay. Lord, we humbly thank You for this food that You have given. We thank and bless the hands that have prepared this meal and pray Your strength for those less fortunate. Amen.”

  “Amen,” he said quietly, looking at her with that same puzzled expression.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  He shook his head, then turned his attention to the fork next to the platter of bacon. “Nothing. I mean, you’re just different, like I said before.”

  Charlene filled her plate with fluffy scrambled eggs, a few slices of melon and two spoonfuls of grits. “You make different sound bad. My mother used to do that.”

  His plate was overflowing by this time with eggs, French toast, bacon, sausage and a biscuit that he was now slathering with grape jelly.

  “Not bad. Just different.” He shrugged. “So, I take it you and your mother aren’t close.”

  She finished chewing the bite of eggs she’d taken. “Quite the contrary, my family’s pretty tight. We just don’t agree all the time.”

  “Most people don’t, family or not.”

  “I guess you’re right. She just wanted something different for me.”

  “Different from teaching?”

  “Yes. She wanted me to model like my older sister or get into acting since my dad was a movie and television producer.”

  “But you preferred singing.”

  “I preferred being out of the spotlight. Doing what I love in a place that’s comfortable to me.”

  He stopped chewing and stared at her. “So this making a CD isn’t what you want to do?”

  “Oh, no. It is. I just never told anybody that it was a goal. I think I was afraid of the rejection or something.” She stared down at her plate, kept on eating because she knew he was looking at her and it was making her nervous.

  “So, you’ve been hiding?”

  “So to speak.”

  “What made you come out of hiding?”

  “My best friend was feeling down. I wanted to cheer her up.”

  “And you got a record deal out of it. How’d your best friend fare?”

  The thought alone made Charlene smile. “She’s getting married next month to a man she thought wasn’t her type but ended up being the love of her life.”

  “You think that’s sweet, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Don’t you? I mean, just because I’ve never personally experienced romance and falling in love doesn’t mean I don’t believe in it and can’t rejoice when someone else finds it.”

  She’d said a mouthful, giving him more information than he’d asked. But he was glad. Now he knew what she needed. Only problem was, he wasn’t sure he was the one who should be giving it to her.

  “You’ve never been in love?”

  “Nope.” She licked her lips after taking a sip of juice and Akil felt his groin tighten.

  “Never been romanced?”

  “Let’s see,” she said, holding a forkful of melon midway to her mouth. “I’ve been taken to dinner, which we both paid for. Taken to a family cookout, where I was asked to cook and help clean up. Oh, and this was the best one, I’ve been asked to wear dark glasses and a trench coat when coming to visit at his apartment.”

  “What? Don’t tell me you did that.” Anger bubbled low in his gut at the m
ere thought of some dude asking her to camouflage herself to come and see him.

  She hurried to finish chewing. “Of course not. I knew he wasn’t worth my time when I noticed he had two cell phones. The only people who should have two phones on their hips are doctors or drug dealers. And there was no M.D. after his name.”

  Akil’s entire body tensed at her words but he hoped she didn’t see. “Good. You were too good for him anyway,” he said in what he hoped was a steady voice.

  For a minute she looked as if she wasn’t going to say anything else, as if she was almost hating what she’d admitted to him so far. That could be true since it was his perception that Charlene Quinn was very guarded about her personal life. Still, she took a deep breath and continued. It was that strength in her that he was beginning to admire immensely.

  “I was too big for him is what I really think. But I’ll settle for your opinion, too.”

  She smiled and he’d swear that action actually touched his heart. He liked talking to her, liked sitting here like this having a meal with her. He’d never shared a meal with a female in his home. Ever.

  “Does it bother you? Your size, I mean.”

  She put her fork down and stared at him seriously. “I guess. Sometimes. Not all the time. Does it bother you?”

  “No,” he answered quickly.

  She smiled. “Good.”

  “Real good,” he said, lifting her hand from the table and kissing the back of it.

  So, she’d never had romance, always had cornball dudes in her life. Akil decided he would fix that because she deserved it. And he wanted to be the one to give it to her.

  Chapter 9

  Charlene had no clue whose idea it was to have a barbecue. But on a Thursday afternoon, two weeks after the first day she’d stepped into Akil’s house, once they’d finished recording for the day, they’d all headed out to the pool. She was shocked to see that the area had been transformed into what looked like an outside club.

  Mrs. Williamson and the crew must have worked all day getting this set up. The thing that really shocked her was that it was a little after nine in the evening, past time for a barbecue to have started. Then again, since being in Miami and watching the way Akil worked, she was starting to think nothing was impossible.

  He just had that type of presence. The one that said “I’m here now, the job can be done right.” His household staff respected him and his studio staff were in awe of him. His directions were very rarely challenged—everyone just trusted what he did or said would produce a hit.

  Today’s session had gone fairly well. They now had four recorded tracks for the CD—three ballads and one dance tune. As for the dance tune that had the rap portion, Akil still hadn’t decided which rapper would provide the flow.

  Stepping out into the humid September night, Charlene saw a few celebrity faces that included some of Akil’s top contenders for the spot.

  Drake, who was steadily climbing the charts with his latest hit, “Successful,” featuring Trey Songz, stood near one of the two lighted bars that had been set up. He was chatting it up with none other than another superproducer, Sean “Diddy” Combs, and a scantily dressed, half-shaved-headed Cassie, who looked as if she were bored already. Young Jeezy was also there, fresh off the release of the track he’d done with Rihanna. And one of her favorites, an old-school hip-hopper who had blazed her own trails in the late eighties and early nineties, MC Lyte was there looking as classy as ever.

  So while the guest list made this look like a star-studded event, the atmosphere seemed laid-back and relaxed. Just a barbecue on a fall night in Miami.

  “You planning on hiding out here all night?” Jason asked, coming to stand beside her.

  “No,” she replied quickly. “I’m a little tired so I might just head up to bed.”

  But Jason was already shaking his head, grasping her hand and pulling her out of the little alcove she’d found near the entrance back into the house. “Oh, no, you don’t. We’re gonna kick back and relax tonight. We’ve been working hard, every day for two weeks now. We’ve earned this break.”

  “Yeah, but you know we still have an early session tomorrow. If I stay down here relaxing too long I’ll be no good in the morning.”

  “Relax, Charlene. Akil wouldn’t have okayed this get-together if he didn’t think we all needed a break.”

  “Well, he’s not even here,” she commented, looking around and noticing that she had yet to see him out here.

  “He’ll be here, don’t worry. Akil loves a barbecue and he loves to have company.”

  “He does?” She wondered at his words. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

  “Akil’s not the all-work-and-no-play guy you’ve seen so far. He can party with the best of us when he’s not stressing about work. Which, unfortunately, is most of the time.”

  She had to chuckle at that. “Yeah, I’m definitely getting the all-work side.” Except for the morning meals they’d been sharing. It was then, she thought, that she got a glimpse of the real Akil Hutton.

  The Akil Hutton she was beginning to like beyond the walls of the recording studio.

  * * *

  He’d been watching her all night. As she smiled and shook hands, danced and laughed, he’d watched. Two hours after his little get-together had started Akil felt like a stalker standing to the side, watching Charlene as if he were obsessed.

  Truth be told, he sort of was.

  Not since that first day seeing her in the Empire offices had he been able to get her out of his mind. Her voice echoed in his head when he was alone, her scent hovered in his senses, keeping him awake when it was rest that he needed. This entire project had begun to revolve solely around her. He’d sent back two songs that didn’t match the woman. In his eyes she was pure, radiant, terrific.

  It was crazy, he knew. These feelings he had for her coming from out of nowhere. All these years he’d kept his heart under lock and key. And now, in the span of two weeks, he was afraid someone—Charlene Quinn—had effortlessly picked that lock.

  But it wasn’t leading anywhere, his feelings for her, his desire for her. It couldn’t. Hadn’t he just admitted her purity? Hadn’t he seen from the very start that she was different than anyone he’d ever met? No way would she be able to live with his past, with the darkness that still haunted him on a daily basis.

  Still, he couldn’t stand there another minute and watch another man touch her. Jason had stuck close to her most of the night, introducing her around, convincing her to dance with him. Then Five had taken a turn, bringing her a drink, talking to her while Jason escaped for a while. That was what had really pissed Akil off. While he liked Five, they’d worked together on a lot of projects and he respected the man’s talent, he knew he was a dog when it came to women. That was as nicely as Akil could put it.

  He’d danced with Charlene, some rap song Akil couldn’t even remember now. All he remembered were Charlene’s movements. The gyration of her body as she felt the rhythm. The salacious smile on Five’s face as he watched and danced up close on her. Only by great strength did he manage to keep from running across the yard and driving his fist into Five’s jaw. He’d actually seen red, wanted to physically remove the man from his house, from Charlene’s path.

  It was insane. He knew it but couldn’t control it.

  That’s what he was telling himself as he started toward her. He couldn’t control this hunger he had for her any more than he could control the weathermen predicting they’d be hit sometime tomorrow by Hurricane Viola. Couldn’t control the urge to touch her, taste her, be with her. For as long as it could last.

  “I need to speak to you alone,” he heard himself saying as his fingers closed around her forearm.

  She turned to him in shock, probably because he’d come from behind. Jason, Five, Jax and Steve—Akil’s bodyguards—were sitting at the table with her talking. He’d had no clue what they were talking about, had only seen her once again surrounded by men tonight and had lost it.


  He’d walked fast, wanting to get her alone as soon as humanly possible. That meant the pool house. Sure, it was kind of cheesy, sort of juvenile, especially when he had this huge house he could drag her into instead. But he didn’t care and he couldn’t wait. Pushing the door open, he pulled her inside. Then he slammed the door shut and backed her up against it.

  She gasped, her lips falling open as she looked like she was about to say something. But his gaze had settled on her lips and heat soared through his body at a rapid pace that blurred his thinking. The next thing he knew his lips were on hers, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth.

  Charlene was still reeling from the way Akil had grabbed her, all but pulling her up from her seat and dragging her across the lawn. She’d wanted to pull away, to scream at him that he was out of his mind, but something in his stance had stopped her. This wasn’t the same Akil. It wasn’t the man she’d watched discreetly throughout the evening, mingling with his guests, smiling here and there. It was the serious music expert she’d seen in the studio.

  And more. When she’d looked up at him his eyes had been different. Those eyes that had first drawn her attention that day in the Empire offices. They seemed darker, more intense, with an edginess that almost frightened her. Her heart had immediately beat faster. She probably should have pulled away from him. Hell, maybe she should have run from him. That’s how freaked out the look in his eyes made her. But she didn’t.

  She let him pull her along, desperately wanting to know what was on his mind. What could have put that look in his eyes? It was probably more foolish than she cared to accept, but she couldn’t turn away from him. Not now.

  So they were going to the pool house. Maybe he wanted to talk.

  No. She swallowed that thought the moment he pushed her back to the door and his lips crashed down on hers.

  Like a firestorm, heat poured into her with his touch. She struggled to breathe but realized it wasn’t worth it. This kiss was all-consuming. Akil was overwhelming. Their tongues dueled as if their very lives depended on this moment. His hands were everywhere, dragging past her breasts, touching her waist, sliding over her hips, reaching around and gripping her bottom. His fingers dug into her like he was fighting to hold on, to keep her in his grasp.

 

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