by Zuri Day
“She said that last night was good, and it was. That’s what I’m admitting.”
Melissa turned around. “Oh my God! Your hair!”
“Yes,” Jan calmly replied, patting her curls. “It is.”
“I like it,” Joey said.
Jan turned and smiled. “Thanks.”
Melissa . . . not so much. “What happened? Too busy to get to the beauty shop?”
“Is that your attempt at a dig, Melissa?”
“I think she’s trying to expand her fifteen minutes,” Doug said. “Get you to sling another verse about her at Breeze.”
“I dare you,” Melissa warned.
Jan stood her ground. “Unlike you, I’m not messy. Missed you at the show, though.” She winked at Doug. Joey cracked up.
“I might be messy, but at least I look good doing it.” She gave Jan one last dissatisfied face and flung her weave as she turned her back.
“I’m more interested in the last night comment,” Joey said. “What was so good about it?”
“Most likely Doug Carter,” Melissa answered, unable to keep out of other folks’ business. “I know that from experience.”
“You know a lot from experience,” a fellow coworker shouted.
“Shut the hell up!” Melissa growled. “You’re just mad you haven’t experienced it.”
“It’s not like I couldn’t,” he confidently replied.
“In your fantasies,” Melissa countered.
Various reactions and responses were lost on Jan as she headed to the counter. There were no customers waiting and with Jan wanting to do nothing more than be in a studio with her band and her song, this was going to be a long afternoon.
“What is going on back there?” Pat turned to ask her. “Wow! Look at your hair! I love it!”
“Do you?” Jan asked, having left her shield of feigned confidence in the back room.
“I really do.” Pat walked over for a better look. “You have such a pretty face and the short style emphasizes it.”
“Thank you.”
“Is that what has everybody cackling back there?”
“No, that commotion comes courtesy of Melissa.”
“Oh Lord.”
“She insinuated that Doug and I were together last night,” Jan said, beginning to yawn. “And I cosigned because it’s true.”
Pat looked over, her expression one of “no you didn’t” and “tell me more.” But all she said was, “Oh, really now.”
Jan laughed. “Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know, girl. You’re yawning pretty hard. So much you’ve got me doing it,” she finished, her mouth stretched wide.
Jan chuckled.
“And you’re all happy, laughing and everything. Whatever happened last night is looking good on you today.”
Jan walked closer to Pat. “If I share, promise to not tell anyone else?”
“Of course.”
“We wrote a song together.”
Pat’s expression went from expectant to perplexed. “Is that all?” Then her eyes lit up. She leaned over, and whispered, “Was this afterwards, you know, in the afterglow? You put it on him so tough that he broke out singing? Is it more like R. Kelly or what’s that young man’s name . . . The Weeknd?”
“Ha! What do you know about him?”
“Girl, I’ve got grandkids.”
“No.” Jan leaned against the counter. “It’s more like Pharrell.”
Pat’s look was priceless. When her first customer stepped to the counter, Jan was still laughing.
As soon as the lobby was empty Pat came over. “Now tell me more about this happy song that’s put such a happy smile on your face.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you because it’s not a secret anyway. The smile isn’t just because of the song. Doug and I are together.”
“You’re not telling me anything I didn’t already know. I’m just glad you finally stopped lying.”
“I didn’t lie to you, Pat!”
“No, but you omitted.” Pat widened her eyes as she emphasized the word. Jan cracked up. “I’m so happy for both of you. I was hoping like everything the two of you would get together.”
“So anyway, about the song—”
“Sorry to interrupt you, but I can hear about the song later. The juicy details of this new love affair is what I want to hear right now.”
“We’re dating. That’s pretty much it.”
“Since when?”
“We went out about a month after I got here.”
“Where?”
Jan giggled. “Bowling.”
Pat nodded. “Good move. I like a man who can think outside of the dinner and a movie box.”
“What did you think after that first date?”
“Honestly? That I wanted a second.”
“Ha!” Pat held up her hand for a high five. “Now you’re talking like a woman with sense. And I already know who, Mr. Doug Carter, so since we’ve handled the five W’s, I’m ready to hear about your song.”
“Well, it was inspired by the night I was heckled by Messy Mel . . .”
35
“Awww, look at your tree!” Jan stepped into Doug’s apartment, her mouth and eyes wide. It was Christmas Eve. They’d just come from dinner with Crystal and Brent, a raucous restaurant experience that lasted three hours. “When did you do all this? It wasn’t up the last time I was here.”
“It wouldn’t be Christmas without a tree, babe. Plus, I knew you’d be coming over, so if nothing else I needed some mistletoe.”
He kissed her.
“Why’d you do that?” she asked afterward, looking up. “I don’t see a mistletoe.”
Doug reached for her hand and headed toward the bedroom. “You’re not going to see one in a few minutes either, when I kiss your other lips.”
An hour later, the two satisfied lovers cuddled in bed, surrounded by a comfortable silence. “What are you thinking?” Jan finally asked.
“That I’m not twenty.”
She looked up quickly. “That’s a strange answer.”
“Not when you just got through effing nonstop for forty-five minutes. I’m tired as hell.”
“Ha! Nobody told you to give me multiple orgasms.”
“Yeah, and nobody told me not to.”
She snuggled closer. “Tonight was so good, baby. You had me on fire! When you’re handling your business like that, I’ll never tell you to stop.” She peered over his shoulder at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s after midnight. Merry Christmas, Doug Carter.”
“Merry Christmas, Jan Baker.”
“Did you get me a Christmas present?”
“I just gave them to you . . . multiple, in fact.”
She swatted his arm. His look was unchanged. Hers was incredulous. She sat up. “That’s why you rode me like an Amtrak going cross-country? Because it’s Christmas?”
He shrugged. “Aren’t you merry? You were a minute ago. My neighbors probably heard how merry you were.” He tried to hold her stare, but she looked so forlorn that he couldn’t stop the smile that crept on his face.
“Are you teasing me?” He started laughing. “Doug!” Her swats were now punches he artfully dodged before rolling over on her, pinning her arms and trying to kiss her.
“No!” She twisted her face back and forth.
“What’s the matter? You knew I’d get you a Christmas present. You wouldn’t have come over if you hadn’t thought that.”
She stopped squirming. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, so if I didn’t get anything it’s okay?”
“It’s not like, I mean, it’s not just . . . I got you something!”
“Really, baby? You got me a Christmas present?” She nodded. “You have it with you now?”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t have.” He sighed.
“Why not?”
“Because . . .” Doug took in the crestfallen expression she tried to hide. “You should hav
e gotten me multiple gifts, like I did you.”
“You’re lying!”
“Sit down.”
“What?”
“Sit!” She did. He walked into his closet and came out with a large holiday bag stuffed with boxes. “I was going to drag out the deception, but you looked so hurt I couldn’t. Merry Christmas.”
“All of these for me?” She kissed him. “You’re a good man, Doug. Thank you. Wait, let me get your gift.”
“Open yours first.”
“Okay.”
She started with the first of four boxes. By the time she’d opened them all she had the perfect accessories for her next show: crystal-covered stilettos, matching dangly earrings, Jan’s favorite cologne, and a pair of designer sunglasses.
“I love everything!” Jan exclaimed, removing her shoes so she could try on the heels. “You picked all this out yourself?”
“I can’t take full credit. Cynthia helped me out.”
She put on the heels and stood. “They fit perfect. Ooh, they’re so pretty! And they’ll go perfect with my gown! I never would have bought shoes like these, but I really like them. Thanks, babe!”
She threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss. That kiss became several.
Doug reached for the hem of Jan’s top. “Come on. I want my Christmas present now.”
“Oh, okay.” She tried to turn, but Doug didn’t release her.
“No, not that one.” He tweaked her nipple. “This one. You. Right here. Wearing nothing but those shoes.”
It was quite a while before Doug opened his gift from Jan, head-to-toe Raiders apparel, including hat and slippers. He enjoyed them, but not nearly as much as his first present that day.
36
The week was a whirlwind. Rehearsals every night. Work every day. Stolen moments with Doug in between. Still, Jan felt more alive than she ever had. Just when she thought her dream of singing as a career was over, she got handed a gift. Cynthia’s request to Jan had opened an area of music that Jan hadn’t before considered. Songwriting. Not only opened it but exposed it as a passion, one that Jan wasn’t too bad at . . . if she must say so herself.
She wasn’t the only one. When Jan sent the rehearsal tape of the finished “Who I Am” track, Cynthia had called screaming with delight. She’d asked for permission to send it to one of the board members. Jan was hesitant but in the end gave the okay. Even without Starr Power, Jan had written a song and people were listening to it!
These thoughts and a million others littered her mind as she packed her bag for tonight’s holiday party, one that looked to be bigger than she’d first imagined. She’d gone online and researched the agency that Cynthia directed. H.E.L.P. was an acronym for Healthy Empowerment through Living Productively. In addition to helping troubled youth, it provided a variety of other social services to disempowered, disenfranchised communities, including a gardening program giving urban neighborhoods access to fresh produce. Their board membership was impressive and included celebrities. Jan’s gut clenched as her nervousness intensified. What if celebrities are here tonight? She repeated her freshly penned words. Just be who I am.
Thirty minutes later she was riding in the back of a luxury sedan. She’d balked at the offer but was now thankful that Cynthia insisted that Jan be chauffeured to the event, stating that the service was included in the performance fee. Not having to deal with LA’s Friday night traffic gave her time to think, run through the night’s repertoire of songs, focus . . . and calm down. It’s also why she hadn’t accepted Doug’s offer to accompany her but rather asked that he meet her there. So that she could center herself and summon the superstar, the diva, the confident woman who walked across the stage like she owned it, when in reality she was shaking in her body shaper. And considering the contraption gripped her like the jaws of life, that was a feat!
From the second she arrived at downtown Los Angeles’s Omni Hotel, Jan went from worrying about whether or not she’d perform for a celebrity to feeling like one herself! Cynthia had assigned one of her clients to act as Cynthia’s personal assistant so that Cynthia could focus on her performance.
I could get used to this!
The young woman’s name was Tamika. She looked to be around eighteen, tall, slender, with cocoa eyes, golden brown skin, and a smile like sunshine.
“Ms. Baker, I’ll take your bags.”
“Oh, that’s okay I’ll just—”
“It’s my job,” Tamika said politely, her voice soft, the grip on Jan’s bag unyielding. Jan released the bag. Tamika smiled. “This way, please.”
Tamika headed toward the elevator.
Jan walked beside her. “Are we headed to my room?”
“Yes, if you need anything, I can bring it to you there.”
“Including the room where we’ll be performing?”
“Excuse me?”
Jan laughed. “I’d like to take a peek at the room where the party will be held to get a look at both the layout and the stage.”
“Oh, okay. That’s on the other side.” Tamika led them across the lobby and down a hallway. “How’d you get to be a singer?”
“I was born to sing,” Jan answered. “Have been doing it for as long as I can remember.”
“I mean, professionally, like with a band and everything.”
As they entered and walked around the room that was still being set up, Jan gave Tamika a brief rundown of her history, including her lone brush with fame on the Apollo stage.
“That’s so cool,” Tamika said when she’d finished. “I’ve never been to New York. I’ve never been out of LA.”
“I wasn’t there long and haven’t been back. I do remember its excitement, though. The crowds, Harlem, Times Square, and riding the subway. Now that was an adventure. My girlfriend and I missed our stop and wound up in Queens!”
“Where’s that?”
“Too far to walk back to our hotel! Queens is a borough of New York, part of what makes up New York City. Kind of like how Hawthorne or Gardena or Hollywood are parts of what makes up metropolitan Los Angeles.”
“Oh, I get it. I’d like to go there someday.”
“You should,” Jan said. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“I was nineteen when I went there, almost twenty. It opened my eyes and showed me there was a whole world out there beyond the ten square blocks I’d grown up in. Gave me the desire to do more, and be more, and helped me continue to pursue my dream of doing what I’m doing and being . . . who I am,” Jan finished with a smile.
They got on the elevator and reached her floor. Jan saw immediately that Cynthia had continued with the star treatment. The room was actually a massive suite with separate living room, overlooking the water court at downtown’s California Plaza.
“This is nice,” Tamika exclaimed, walking over to the window’s magnificent view.
“One day, I want to be a star like you.”
“Girl, I’m no star. During the day I work at the post office.”
Tamika looked back at her surprised. “You do?”
“Sure do, the Normandie branch.”
Tamika looked out the window. “Yeah, but right now you’re in this beautiful room and tonight you’ll be onstage singing for a roomful of people. That’s like a star to me.”
“You know what, Tamika. You are absolutely right. I guess I am a star. And so are you.”
* * *
“Babe, you look amazing.”
It was two hours later, almost showtime. Jan had enjoyed a long soak in the whirlpool tub and the first-time treat of having a stylist and makeup artist help get her ready for the show. She felt glamourous in the wine-colored stretch knit velvet dress, set off perfectly with Doug’s Christmas gifts. The shoes added tons of bling. The big, dangly earrings cast beams around the room as they caught the glow of the lighted mirror. She wore no necklace. Instead all attention went instantly to her substantial cleavage perfectly displayed by the cut of softly rounded neckline, c
inched waist, and form-fitting skirt that flared from the knee down. Her short curls glistened. Glittery eye shadow and kohl liner made her eyes pop. Wine red lipstick emphasized the whiteness of her teeth. Tamika’s word came back to her. Star.
Who needed Nick’s validation? She had Tamika’s.
Doug answered a knock at the door.
Cynthia entered and stopped short. “Jan! You. Look. Stunning! Oh my God, that dress is everything on you.” She stepped back, appraising. “The hair, makeup, everything’s perfect. And wherever did you get those shoes and earrings?” She winked at Doug. “Whoever picked those out has great taste!”
Doug brushed the lapel of his tailored black suit. “Thank you very much.”
“You look amazing, too,” Jan said to Cynthia. “Like a model about to walk the runway.”
And she did. Cynthia’s upswept hairdo emphasized a long neck and a diamond teardrop earrings and necklace set. Her stark white dress with a spattering of rhinestones complemented strappy rhinestone sandals on freshly pedicured feet, the bright red polish on her toes being the only splash of color in her ensemble.
“Thank you.”
“And thank you for this room,” Jan added, spreading her arms and looking around. “It is incredible. Tamika said it was the room of a star.”
“Tamika’s right. By the way, did she take care of you all right?”
“Yes, she did. Very professional.”
“Where is she?”
“I told her she could go on down, that I was fine.”
“Good.” Cynthia looked at her watch. “I’m going down now. You’re on in about thirty minutes or so but can come down anytime. Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“If you can make sure that there’s a bottle or glass of water on the stage that I can access. Oh, and a hand towel?”
Cynthia nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” She walked over and gave Jan a hug. “The crowd is going to love you,” she said. “I cannot wait to see their reaction to ‘Who I Am.’”
She was right. The crowd loved Jan. The dance floor stayed packed from the time she stepped on the stage singing Chaka Khan’s classic “I’m Every Woman,” until she ended the night with “Who I Am.”
Their reaction to that was incredible. They cheered and whistled, whooped and hollered until Jan sang it again for an encore.