Cancer - Mr. Intuitive: The 12 Signs of Love (The Zodiac Lovers Series Book 7)

by Tiana Laveen

  She turned away from him, a nervous expression on her face. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Cain began to clap a slow beat with his hands, and she grinned wide as she caught the rhythm.

  “I caaaaan’t stand the rain! Against my window…” she began.

  His baby sounded just like Ann Peebles singing it, hitting those notes just right. People began to stand up and clap, rocking back and forth, whistling. She sang without music… without anything but her very own gifts from God. When she was finished, the crowd erupted in an applause so strong, it rocked the room. Some clanked their forks against their glasses in true appreciation.

  “Thank you, baby.” He took the microphone away from her, kissed her cheek, and watched her walk away and reclaim her seat at the table as dessert was now being served. “That’s what I call music! That’s soul… from my mate. That’s real talent! Would you all like to hear her on my records?”

  Applause broke out, and people screamed a ‘Hell yeah!’

  “How ’bout she have her own albums. Would you like that, too?”

  The crowd cheered even louder.

  “I feel the same way you do. In fact, I feel so strongly about it, I’m gonna give all of these damn awards up ’til I get it!”

  The audience stopped clapping abruptly as he removed them from the podium and placed his honors by his feet, as if they didn’t mean a damn thing to him anymore.

  He glared out into the audience, meeting eyes with Mr. Alexander who looked like he just wanted to roll over and die. Cain kinda wished he would.

  “Folks, it’s time to tell the truth, and nothin’ but the truth so help me God! I’ve made Nola Notes Studio more money than any of their first-time artists in history! My single, ‘Swamp King’, hit gold and I ain’t even on tour yet!” He put his finger in the air, his heart beating a mile a minute. “I’m a new jack, so people try to convince me that I need them more than they need me. I swear to God, on ere’thang, that I will go back to those damn tip jars in back alley, hole in the walls, stankin’ ass no name shacks in the middle of nowhere wit’ just me and my guitar beltin’ out homemade tunes ain’t nobody ever heard of, Mr. Dream Crusher Alexander, and not look back!”

  Leaping off the stage, he marched towards the man, jetting his finger in his face. Cain could hear murmuring and whispering from the spectators, a worried energy surrounding him, but he paid it no mind. The man smiled nervously and looked about the room before resting eyes on him once again. Cain looked down on him like the scum that he was. He was tempted to spit on the bastard’s slice of chocolate cake.

  “You told me in our last meetin’ that I was crazy… and you’d be right about that. Crazy enough to do somethin’ just like this! I fight for what I believe in, for what’s right. Spinely said me and my girl was on and you came in like a tornado and fucked it all up, said we was off! She still has a dream, and it ain’t about the money because she’s got plenty of that now… it’s the damn principle. I want what I agreed to from the get go, verbally on the phone wit’ Spinely… I want my original offer. You say you two are 50/50? Well so is me and my girl! Alexander… I warned you, you son of a bitch!”

  Security began to approach him, but Spinely got to his feet and held up his hand, telling them it was all right.

  “I ain’t gonna sock this man, get back.” Cain shouted at the security officers and rolled his eyes. “I ain’t lettin’ this motherfucker be the cause of me going to jail, won’t lay not one finger on him, you can best believe that ’cause I’ve got too much to lose. I got a message for you though, sir, special delivery! You thought you were off the hook, didn’t ya? You got comfortable, thought I’d forgotten about it. Thought I’d sell my soul just to make it. I ain’t forget nothin’… you hear me?! Like I was just gonna let that shit you’d done slide…I told you I’d be back for you and I meant it! I was just bidin’ my time. I don’t make no deals wit’ the Devil, I just learn to play his game better! Now the choice is yours. You get to keep me with no more problems—not another peep—and you get Tapestry, too. And let me tell you somethin’, whether she’s 30lbs lighter or heavier, you’ll take her, AS IS. She has lost a few pounds for herself, not to please you! A voice is weightless! Talent only knows about vocal scales, not the kind you stand on and numbers show up. Heart and soul floats! I want ’er singin’ my hooks!

  “I want my baby to have ’er own career! She deserves it! She got some money and do you know all she still wants to do is sing?! Now that’s dedication. She could always just do it herself, iTunes and what not, but it’s the principle at this point! This is my woman, ya hear me?!” He pointed at her to make sure that bastard saw her face for what it was: beautiful, one of a kind. “She saved my goddamn life! Nursed my weary soul back to health… showed me how to love again. She keeps takin’ her lumps and bruises with a smile. Well, I ain’t as advanced and mature as her, ’cause I don’t.

  “I ain’t as kind as she is. I’m bitter now and revved up on account of people like you—folks always tryna spoil the milk and get over. Don’t believe me? Listen real close to the songs I write. Those words ain’t comin’ from a calm man. They’re comin’ from a guy who smiles in ya face but is always plottin’. If you don’t see me, and I’m behind closed doors, alienated and away from the world like some crab under the sand, don’t believe all that time I’m down in there that I’m poutin’ and my brain ain’t turned on… No, sir! I’m plannin’ your demise! And when I re-emerge, these claws are sharpened and ready for battle!”

  He got real close in Alexander’s face, and people drew quiet. You could hear a pin drop.

  “Now you think about your options real good ’nd hard. All of these people will know that you practice weight discrimination for the talent… What are you teachin’ folks wit’ that practice? That only skinny women who can barely sing will be chosen? I know other places are doin’ the same thing you are, but you’re killin’ the music, man! I won’t let you kill rhythm and blues… I can’t sit by and watch. The people have chosen, and they want ’er, too. And just so it’s clear, I got enough money, ’tween me and her, to fight you in court now like you wouldn’t believe. Glad we could have this little conversation.”

  He smiled big, tapped Alexander roughly on the shoulder and walked back onto the stage. The musicians were now standing there, their mouths open, not playing. Leaning down, he retrieved his awards, pressed them proudly to his chest, and took the microphone from off the ground.

  “Thanks to all of you beautiful people for givin’ me a minute to get that all off my chest…”

  The people looked around at one another, then, one by one, they began to stand up and clap. The claps turned into cheers. He looked into the audience at Tapestry and his mama. The two women were huddled up with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. He blinked away a few of his own.

  He had no clue what was going to happen now. He suspected he’d be kicked out on his ass and get sued out the wazoo. But, either way, he was ready for the rewards or consequences of his behavior. A man had to do what a man had to do.

  Life is just too short to not speak your truth… We’re gonna enjoy it… we’re gonna eat chocolate cake ’till we’re sick… we’re gonna write letters, take pictures and kiss our mamas… we’re gonna be happy to be either a thorn or the rose, because beauty and pain are songs of the soul, and they live side by side in the gardens of our hearts…

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  But Can She Sing?

  …The following day

  Tapestry stood in the lobby of Nola Notes Studio huffing and puffing like a train about to go down the line. She was pissed. She crossed her arms over her big breasts and tapped a mean tune of, ‘You Done Fucked Up,’ with her foot. Cain lounged about on the burnt orange couch he was now well accustomed to. He affectionately called it the hot seat.

  “Not only did you make a big ol’ public scene, you threatened legal action. Cain! I swear to God I’ve got twelve new gray hairs ’cause of you!”

  H
e rolled his eyes and closed them, not even trying to pretend that he cared anymore.

  “Twelve? One for each month of the year, huh? Look, baby, at this point, it is what it is,” he stated dismissively. “I have enough clout now that if need be, I can go to another producer and he’ll accept my conditions. I ain’t carin’ about what these guys say. I don’t regret what happened. I said it and I meant it.”

  “You ever heard of, ‘Don’t burn a bridge you’re standin’ on?’ Cain, you’re supposed to get what you need, then bail! You did this all wrong! I appreciate you lovin’ me and carin’ about my feelings, but this is your dream! If you get a bad reputation this early on, nobody’ll touch you wit’ a ten-foot pole! You’ll be black balled while you’re still in celebrity diapers!”

  “I tried to touch ya with my ten-foot pole last night, but you was mad at me. I got blue balls, so I guess that’s close enough.” He chuckled, but all the woman did was snarl at him and turn away. Just then, the double doors to the conference room swung open. There stood Spinely, Alexander, and their attorney.

  Look at Alexander, standin’ there all smug. He look like a swollen tick… Deep in the veins of Texas… ol’ piece of shit…

  Cain slowly got to his feet and took Tapestry by the hand as they walked inside. Once they arrived at the long table that was set with glasses of water, as well as a few notepads and pens, he pulled out a seat for her and sat right beside her. A definite chill lingered in the room.

  Ain’t this the part where Alexander starts talkin’ and lettin’ out a bunch of hot air?

  Neither Spinely nor Alexander said a word to him, but the lawyer extended his hand for a shake and introduced himself.

  “Hello, Mr. Johnson. My name is Huey Nelson and I represent Mr. Spinely and Mr. Alexander.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Cain grinned as he slid down in his seat, then pivoted back and forth in it like a child. After all, he found the shit a bit comical. Tapestry tossed him a brief glare. The lawyer sat at the end of the table, and Spinely leaned forward, a slight smile on his face. He clasped his hands together and blinked a few times, then began.

  “Cain… I think you know that yesterday, at the Nuance Awards, something happened that should’ve been left behind closed doors. Notwithstanding that, I understand that you’re a passionate person and this bleeds into your music, making it so palpable for others. It’s why you’ve become a big success so fast. Well… it happened.” The man shrugged. “And I regret that it did in that fashion.”

  “Spinely, tell ya boy that, not me.”

  “Shhh!” Tapestry chastised, frowning.

  “Cain, after several meetings yesterday and this morning, Alexander and I have agreed to not release you from your contract, and we are willing to, at least initially, have Tapestry LeBlanc produce her own single and sing background for you, as you wish… per her agreement of our terms for her own separate contract, of course.”

  Mr. Alexander grimaced, a look of disdain written all over his face.

  HA HA! Fuck you!

  “However, we will be revising the contract and also presenting a new one.”

  Mr. Nelson opened a portfolio and pushed it in Cain’s direction. Cain opened the binder.

  “Cain, basically the provisions state that you are to never ever, under any circumstances, do what you did yesterday again. If you violate these guidelines of conduct, not only will you be immediately dismissed from working further with Nola Notes Studio, but you will also be liable if you sign another contract with another music producer before the terms of your original contract have expired.”

  Cain read page after page, quietly turning them. Tapestry sipped on her water, not saying one word.

  “As I said from the beginning, I wanted Tapestry.” His lady smiled at Mr. Spinely and nodded. “However, I have to be aligned with Mr. Alexander. Accusations of discrimination of any kind are not what we wish to have happen here at Nola Notes Studio and though Mr. Alexander believed he was doing what was best for the company, he has conceded that perhaps he judged Ms. LeBlanc prematurely.”

  “Oh, really? Judged her prematurely, huh? Is that what we’re callin’ it now? He ain’t judge her prematurely, Spinely. He said what he felt, and he told me as much. This is the type of man who would still want bathrooms segregated. He’s the type of guy who probably felt like Rosa Parks shoulda kept her trap shut. I bet—”

  “Cain…” Spinely closed his eyes as if exhausted and shook his head. “You’ve made your point. Let’s not do this, okay? Let’s just move forward.”

  “Oh, I am movin’ forward, but all of you up in this room need to know that I have his number and mark my words, Spinely—down the line, he is gonna do your company harm. He’s gonna go too far wit’ somebody, and they’re gonna get ’im and you’ll get caught up in the aftermath. Have you been online?” Smirking, Cane swiveled a bit faster in the seat. “Have you seen what folks are sayin’ about my baby’s singin’ on that stage yesterday?”

  “No, but we’ve seen what they said about your completely insane outburst! You’re a goddamn nut! A fuckin’ psycho! I’m not a bit surprised you admitted to being a basket case. Nice performance, Cain!” Alexander screamed, pounding his fist on the table.

  “Anybody who stands up to you is a basket case, right? You got Spinely actin’ like a punk half the time and not standin’ up for what he knew was right, all ’cause you intimidate folks and want to throw that 50/50 shit around like a noose around his neck. Well, let me tell you somethin’, you cue-ball-headed son of uh bitch, I ain’t scared of you—no way, no how!” Cain chuckled. “I’ll be insane, fine!” He shrugged. “But I’m smart, too, and I know the shit you tried to pull… And now, Spinely knows how you operate, too. The real you is exposed.”

  Alexander smiled sarcastically and gave a golf clap.

  “Why thank you, you boulder-built bitch of a man.” He took a bow in his seat, causing his hair to tumble forward. “Do I get an award now for public speakin’, too? I sure as hell hope so.”

  “This isn’t funny, Mr. Johnson,” The attorney warned. “We need to do damage control but Mr. Spinely felt strongly enough about your convictions to bring it back to the table for review and he likes you as a person, so please, take this seriously and calm down.”

  “Like hell it’s not funny. Y’all motherfuckers are hilarious! Regardless of all of that, yeah,” He flipped through a few more pages and scanned them. “I’ll agree to not pull Alexander’s pants down ’nd spank ’im public again. Lucky for you, I don’t see nothin’ in here about takin’ it to the boardroom, ’cause I’m not gonna be disrespected. I’ll do it in private though… with no Vaseline. Spinely.” he pointed his finger at him. “I ain’t never called you out yo’ name, never talked down to you… well, ’till just now. Everybody up in this place, from the producers to the janitors, I’m real cordial with and respectful. I don’t have a reputation for startin’ shit. You can ask everybody who knows me. It ain’t in my nature to act a fool for no reason. I have to be provoked.

  “Yeah, I coulda taken it somewhere private but I doubt Mr. Alexander would’ve taken me seriously then. I had to pull his card in front of an entire crowd of folks to get him to hear me loud ’nd clear.” He rested his hand on Tapestry’s thigh. “This ain’t just about Ms. LeBlanc, soon to be Mrs. Johnson. This is about everybody comin’ down the pike behind ’er, for all those men and women who tryna make it in this industry but folks like him wanna say they’re too this or too that, that they ain’t good enough because of somethin’ that ain’t got shit to do with why they are there in the first damn place. The decision needs to rest solely on, ‘Can this motherfucker sing or not?!’ Period!” He slapped the table, causing the attorney to jump in his seat. “If you didn’t like ’er voice, I could’ve accepted that.” He shrugged.

  “Woulda called you tone deaf, but I understand musical tastes are subjective. But for him to look me in my eye and tell me she’s fat, knowin’ damn well she can blow the roof off dis place wi
th a single verse is what is truly insane! No, sir…” He shook his head. “That’s just plain unacceptable. I understand you want a certain image. You are entitled, I get that, but this ain’t a datin’ site and that still don’t make what he done and how he done it right, Spinely.” The man dropped his head. “Now, I’m gonna look this contract over a bit more.” He got to his feet and Tapestry joined him. “Have my attorney look it over, too, and if everything is all right, you’ll get my signature within twenty-four hours. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Nelson.”

  The attorney stood to his feet, reached over, and shook Cain’s hand.

  “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Johnson.”

  “Thank you… It was, uh, nice seein’ you again, Mr. Spinely.”

  The man raised his head and offered a sad smile.

  “I look forward to working with you, Tapestry.”

  She then shot Alexander a glance, one that was vicious and nasty… just how Cain liked it.

  Taking Tapestry’s hand, he squeezed it and they made their way out the door.

  The Swamp King was alive and well…

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I fell in Love with a Songbird…

  Several months later…

  The Marigny Opera House proved to be the perfect venue for their nuptials. It was a nonprofit center for local artists. After he and Tapestry narrowed their choices down, they both agreed that it would make a wonderful spot to exchange their vows. Located on Ferdinand Street in New Orleans, six blocks from the French Quarter, it had been converted from the Holy Trinity Catholic Church way back in the 1800s. Cain let Tapestry know that one of his favorite Depeche Mode song’s video had been filmed there. He was astounded that she was none the wiser.

  He sat in his truck with his brothers, going down memory lane.

  “What about when Mama caught you messin’ with her pocketbook? In there stealin’?” Victor chimed in, his eyes a mess from cryin’ tears of sheer laughter for the past thirty minutes. “You tried to say you was thinkin’ about buyin’ her a new one for her birthday and you wanted to see what the old one looked like, so you wouldn’t accidentally buy the same one. She beat your ass wit’ that purse and told you to show your hide to the store clerk and you could use that as a photo to avoid duplication!”