Hot Summer

by Judy Powell

  With a start she realized that Chantal was still speaking to her.

  “I’ll take you down to the main library now,” she was saying. “Mr. Munroe asked that you use the day to view some of their past interviews. We have them all on tape. That will help you to see a little of what the public knows of them so far. If you get through them quickly enough you could even watch some of their stage performances. We have them on tapes and DVD’s.”

  Oh, well, at least she would be fully occupied for the day. Summer wondered what business had taken Lance out of town so suddenly. Chantal hadn’t mentioned the reason for his absence. She could only guess that it had something to do with one of his singers.

  The morning was uneventful but interesting. Summer watched interviews and performances until her eyes burned. Still, she was satisfied that she was able to gather copious notes from the tapes. She planned to add these to the files she was creating for each of her assigned singers.

  The only break Summer took was to sip a cup of green tea that Chantal brought in at ten thirty. She was so engrossed in her task that she didn’t realize how the time had passed. She was surprised when her stomach growled. She looked at the clock. It was one thirty. As if timing her, the phone rang. Chantal was on the line.

  “Oh, sure.” Summer responded to Chantal’s offer to bring her lunch. “That will help me get through this even faster. Thank you.”

  She put another DVD in the machine, picked up her note book, and prepared to write. This interview was with Monisha Stone. The singer, elegant and beautiful as ever, handled herself very well. She had an aura of sophistication that was arresting.

  Summer could imagine the impact the diva had on men if she, a woman, couldn’t take her eyes off Monisha’s immaculate face. She seemed so self-assured that Summer wondered why Lance had even included her in the list of artistes she’d be working with. This woman didn’t need her help. In fact, Summer doubted that she would take kindly to her offering any form of advice.

  There was a knock on the door and Summer switched off the tape, ready to dive into the turkey sandwich she had ordered. She stood up and was stretching luxuriously when a man entered the room with her sandwich and soda in hand. Summer froze mid-stretch.

  “Who are you?” she blurted out.

  “Derrick Dunn, at your service.”

  With a flourish he placed the food on the credenza then turned to her with a wide smile. “So you’re the new girl who’s going to make waves in the media, huh?”

  “Excuse me?” Summer used her coldest tone. She’d been known to freeze even the most forward man with it. This time, she quickly realized, it wasn’t working. The man barely seemed to notice her aloof attitude.

  “So what’s your name, honey?”

  “My name,” Summer said, frowning, “is Summer Jones. And may I ask who you are and what you’re doing in my office?”

  “I told you already. I’m Derrick. Lance’s cousin.” He stretched out his hand to her and she took it reluctantly, too polite to ignore it. “Pleased to meet you…Miss Jones.”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. He slowly looked her over then he gave a low whistle. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  She pulled her hand away from his grasp and frowned at him. If this man didn’t stop, Lance’s cousin or not, he was going to get it.

  She was just about to give him a biting response when he looked questioningly at her then said, “Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  “I’m sure you don’t.”

  “I mean, seriously. This isn’t a line. I’ve seen those mean eyes of yours before.”

  “Mean?” Summer was indignant.

  “Okay, that may have been a bit strong, but I’ve seen those flashing eyes…” he said then drew in a sharp breath. “You’re the waitress from The Southern Belle. You and Monisha argued about the food. Yeah, it’s you alright.

  “So?’

  “So, you’re one hot mama when you’re angry.”

  Summer clenched her fists to keep from slapping his grinning face. She’d thought Lance was bad but this one was arrogance personified. Instead of giving in to her desire to smack him she strode purposefully to the door and pulled it open. She stared pointedly at him.

  When he didn’t budge she spoke. “Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Dunn, but I really must get back to my work.”

  He put his hands up, as if to fend off invisible daggers. “Alright, alright. I see you’re a serious woman. I’ll behave myself. Let me start again.”

  “Good afternoon,” he said politely. “My name is Derrick Dunn. I hope you enjoy your meal. May I help you with anything else?”

  “No, thank you, I’m fine.” Summer’s tone softened with his sudden change in attitude. “And yes, I was a server at The Southern Belle. I remember you now. But,” she said, looking at him quizzically, “your hair is different.”

  “Yes, I had cornrows then. Got tired of it,” he said with a shrug as he patted his low-cut hair. “I was really impressed with the way you handled yourself with Monisha. She can be such a-”

  “Thank you,” Summer cut in, not wanting to discuss the woman behind her back, “but let’s not talk about her right now.”

  She went back to her desk and sat down. “Would you like a piece of my sandwich?”

  “No, thanks. I already ate. In fact,” he rose as he spoke, “I have to go now. Lance will be on top of me if he catches me lounging around.”

  “As well he should,” she muttered under her breath.

  Derrick paused at the door and turned. “I hope to see you again soon, Miss Jones.”

  Summer simply said, “Bye,” but she softened her response with a smile. There was no need to be rude. Still, she didn’t want him to linger. She wanted to cover a lot more ground before the day was done.

  As soon as the door closed behind him she sat back in her chair, took a big bite out of her sandwich, and switched on the DVD player.

  It was after four o’clock when Summer surfaced from the main library and headed back to her office, her pad now filled with notes. On her way she stopped at the reception desk and greeted the receptionist.

  “How’s it going , Chantal?” She leaned over the counter and looked down at the woman tapping busily on the computer keyboard.

  Chantal looked up with a start.

  “I’m sorry,” Summer said. “Did I startle you?”

  “A little bit but that’s okay. The office has been so quiet this afternoon that I decided to get some work out of the way. I was so caught up in what I was doing that when you spoke it brought me back with a bump.” Chantal leaned back and looked up at Summer. “I need a break, anyway. I’ve been at it for hours. So, how were things in the library?”

  “I got through a lot. Look how many pages of notes I took.” Summer held up the note pad and flipped the pages so Chantal could see. “I’ll need to continue tomorrow, though. I still have four or five more DVDs to view then I’ll be all done.”

  “That should be fine but be prepared to change plans suddenly if Mr. Munroe returns. He hasn’t called the office but he’ll probably be back first thing tomorrow.” Chantal brushed a speck of dust from the computer screen. “His trips to Jamaica are usually pretty short.”

  “Jamaica? Is that where he is?”

  “Yes. Didn’t I tell you?”

  “No. You only said he wouldn’t be in office today.”

  “Oh.” Chantal frowned slightly as if trying to recall their earlier conversation then she shook her head and continued, “Well, anyway, he called in to say he had to rush down to Jamaica. Some urgent personal matter. I think Michelle must be sick again.”

  Summer’s breath caught in her throat and she was barely able to choke out a question. “Michelle? Is that…his wife?”

  “Oh, no, he’s not married.” Chantal laughed and, for the second time that day, Summer prayed that the receptionist couldn’t read her normally expressive face. She was fighting hard to hide the relief she felt inside.

&nb
sp; Her relief was short-lived. Summer felt her heart freeze at Chantal’s next words.

  “Michelle’s his little girl. At least I think she is. He talks about her quite a bit, that’s how I know about her illness. She’s only three years old but she’s been through a lot. She’s got sickle cell anemia. Do you know what that is?”

  “I’m…I’m sorry, Chantal. What was your question?” Summer felt slightly dazed.

  “I was asking if you knew what sickle cell anemia is. That’s what Michelle has.”

  “I’ve…heard of it. I don’t know all the details but I know it causes a lot of pain in the joints.”

  “Yes, that’s part of it. The reason why people with it have so much pain is that, instead of being oval their blood cells are shaped with a curve, like the sickle the disease is named after. When the cells are moving through the veins they get hooked instead of just sliding past one another. That’s what causes all the pain.”

  “How come you know all that?”

  “Lance told me. He knows all about this sickle cell thing.”

  “Oh, I see.” Summer’s voice was quiet, contemplative.

  “Are you alright, Summer?” Chantal asked. “Did I gross you out with that sickle cell stuff?”

  “No, no. I just started feeling a little woozy all of a sudden. Maybe I overdid it with the videos.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’ll be alright. I’ll just go sit in my office for a bit.”

  “Yes, do that.” Chantal’s voice was edged with concern. “I’ll bring you some water in a sec.”

  Summer turned quickly, glad for an excuse to escape, and bumped right into Monisha Stone.

  “Will you look where you’re going?” The elegantly dressed singer looked down her slender nose at Summer and glared.

  Suddenly her eyes widened in recognition. “What the blazes are you doing here? Have you been following me around or something?”

  “Definitely not.” Summer’s voice, so weak just moments before, was sharp and biting. “I have no need to follow you around. I’ve got better things to do with my life.”

  “Miss Jones works here, Miss Stone.” Chantal’s clear, serene voice cut through the tension between the two women.

  “What? Since when?” Monisha raised her eyebrows and stared at Chantal in disbelief.

  “Since yesterday.” Summer didn’t give Chantal a chance to respond. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “If I have any problems,” Monisha’s voice was cold as she looked Summer up and down, “I certainly won’t be discussing them with you.”

  She turned to Chantal, dismissing Summer with a toss of her head. “Tell Lance I’m here to see him.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Stone, but Mr. Munroe is not in office today.” Chantal’s voice was even but Summer thought she saw a slight smirk. “Would you like to leave a message for him?”

  “No. I need to speak to him urgently. Where is he?”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t say.”

  “You can’t say or you won’t say?”

  Chantal did not respond to the question but continued calmly, “You could try him on his cell phone. You have his number, of course?”

  “Okay, I’ll call him. But I came all this way to see him about something important. When we talked a couple of days ago he didn’t mention plans to be out of the office. This isn’t like him.”

  “Something urgent came up.” Chantal tried to appease her. “I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.”

  “I’d better. I don’t like wasting my time coming all the way over here for nothing. And what’s more,” she flashed angry eyes at Summer, “he’s got a lot of explaining to do.”

  Without so much as a farewell she whirled and marched through the door, her long, black hair swaying with each step.

  Summer and Chantal watched the dramatic exit then turned to look at each other. Then they both burst out laughing.

  “Oh, my God,” Summer squeaked between guffaws. “She’s a trip.”

  “You’re lucky.” Chantal wiped tears from her eyes as she struggled to regain composure. “You’re just getting to know her. I’ve been dealing with her for almost a year.”

  When they finally calmed down Summer turned as if to go then said, in as casual a tone as she could manage, “By the way, are Lance and Monisha an item?”

  “Not that I know of.” Chantal shrugged. “I know he’s been out with her a few times but I don’t know if that means they’re together. Looks to me like Monisha is the one doing the pursuing. I doubt they’re into anything serious.” She paused. Then, as if rethinking her statement, she said “Then again, when it comes to men you never know.”

  That night as Summer thought back to all she had learned that day she didn’t know whether to feel hopeful or depressed. From the way Monisha had spoken she’d assumed that the woman and Lance were involved, but Chantal seemed to have doubts about that. But then she’d also learned that Lance had a child in Jamaica. That news was devastating. She wondered if he was still involved with the child’s mother.

  Then again, she asked herself, what was all that to her? It was none of her business what the man did with his life. She was nothing to him and he was nothing to her. Alright, she was attracted to him, she admitted that to herself. And yes, they’d shared one impulsive kiss. But that was it. Who was she to be lying in bed, moping over a man who probably didn’t even remember she existed?

  He was out of her league and out of her reach. She realized that fully now. She rolled onto her stomach and sighed in resignation. From here on she wouldn’t let his charm and sex appeal distract her from her task. She set her mouth in determination as she thought of how she would change her attitude towards him then wondered why her heart still beat wildly at the thought of him.

  8

  “Jamaica? You never told me I’d have to go to Jamaica,” Summer blurted out as she leaned against the door she had just closed the door behind her. She’d been summoned to Lance’s office for a quick conference but was totally confounded by this new development.

  “I never thought it would be an issue. It will only be for a couple of weeks.” Lance shrugged then waved her to the chair in front of him.

  She remained where she was, still too surprised to respond.

  “Do you have a problem with traveling?” He looked at her quizzically.

  “No, no, it’s not that.” Summer put her hand to her eyes. She wondered how she could get out of this situation. “I…just never expected that I’d have to leave the country.”

  “And would that be a problem? Leaving the country?”

  “No. I guess not.” She sighed and looked at Lance. “You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

  “Miss Jones, it’s obvious that you’re not comfortable with the idea of going to Jamaica.” Lance frowned. “What, exactly, is the problem?”

  “No, no, there’s no problem.” Summer spoke in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. “It’s just that I wanted to tie up my move to the new apartment. But I’ll just have to hurry up, make my selection and sign the contract. I want to get all of that out of the way before I leave town. That’s all.”

  “You’re sure?” Lance looked at her skeptically.

  “Yes. I’m sure.” She nodded then quickly dropped her eyes to the paperweight on his desk so that he wouldn’t see the lie hiding behind her eyes.

  Lance was silent for a while then he said, “Sit down, please. I want to give you the details of your trip.”

  By the time Summer left Lance’s office thirty-five minutes later her flight to Jamaica was booked and she had her list of pre-trip assignments, as well as details of what she would be doing on the trip.

  According to him they’d be going to Jamaica to do a video shoot, recordings for the latest album he was producing, as well as meet with a local promotions company. Lance felt that this was also an excellent opportunity for her to get to interact with the artistes in their own territory and really get to know their personal side. He expected her to return wi
th meaningful stories and lots of information to feed the press.

  Summer had a lot to accomplish before leaving for Jamaica. The trip was only ten days away and she had to complete all the summaries she’d been working on for her eight assigned artistes and submit them to Lance for review. She also had to organize a press conference for the launch of Monisha’s new album, as well as work with the agency on an article to appear in Vibe Magazine. On top of that she would have to select an apartment from the list her agent had provided, complete her packing and then move.

  But despite all she would have to accomplish in ten days she was not perturbed with the work. Her greatest concern was her mother. Edna Jones had not yet been scheduled for surgery and Summer had no desire to go far from her mother’s side. She worried that if she left town her mother would have to face surgery alone. It was not as if she had siblings who could be there in her absence. She was all her mother had.

  At the same time she desperately needed to keep this job. She would be moving soon, which meant that in addition to the deposit the first month’s rent would be required. Her first tuition payment would also be due in less than two weeks. And, most important for her, she needed to have some funds to assist with her mother’s surgery. She definitely couldn’t afford to lose this job. Not now.

  “Hey.”

  Summer looked up to see Chantal peeking into her office.

  “I have your e-ticket.”

  “That was quick.” Summer smiled weakly. “Come on in. I could do with a little distraction right now.”

  “You alright?” Chantal entered the office and went to sit in the chair in front of her.

  “I’m okay.” Summer shrugged. “Just a little overwhelmed with all I’ve got to get done, that’s all.”

  “You sure? You look kinda down. I thought you’d be excited about going to Jamaica.”

  “I…I am,” Summer replied.

  “Yeah, right.” Chantal was obviously unconvinced.