“It’s the best thing for me. Anyway, I just wanted to get in touch with you. Since we’ll be here for a few days, maybe we can get together.”
“Sure . . .” Deborah paused at the knock on her door. “I’ll see you tonight.” She hung up and rushed to the door, and was surprised to see Brent.
“Deborah, Emerald’s sick,” he said as he stepped into her room. “You’re going to have to perform the duet with Lavelle tonight.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
Brent shrugged. “I have no idea—exhaustion, too much Jack Daniel’s, who knows. We just need you to step in. You’ll have to do the song and the dance. You can practice at rehearsal. The vans will be leaving in twenty minutes.”
Deborah sighed as she closed the door. Why tonight? With her family in attendance, she’d have to dance onstage as if she and Lavelle were lovers.
Oh well, she thought. If her parents wanted to see what she did for a living, tonight would give them a good idea.
Deborah peeked through the curtains as Phoebe sang her last song. The way Phoebe swayed and swung and exuded sex amazed Deborah. No wonder men often tried to climb onto the stage.
The Georgia Dome was packed to capacity, and Deborah had no doubt that many of the seats were filled with residents of Villa Rica. She held her hands to her face. The last time they saw her, she was sitting primly in the choir singing “Amazing Grace.”
Well, everyone knows what I do, she thought. And just because her family was in the audience, that didn’t mean she was going to hold back. In fact, she was going to sing her heart out. It was the dance with Lavelle that worried her the most.
Moments later, she and Vianca had taken their places at the bottom of the stairs, and the crowd roared as Lavelle crooned his way to the bottom. It was just like it was in all the other cities, only tonight Deborah was sure that she heard her name yelled from the audience.
They sang the songs, one after another, and Deborah moved across the stage with the ease of a performer who had been on the road for two months.
But when Lavelle put his arms around her for the duet, her shoulders tensed. She leaned against his portly frame and smiled into his eyes as they sang “Loving You.”
Deborah’s strapless dress felt like it was falling as she shimmied against Lavelle, and she had to resist the urge to pull it up.
At the end, she bowed from the waist and nearly sagged with relief because the show was finally over.
Deborah rushed to her dressing room. As she had requested, Kim was waiting to help her make a quick change into her pants suit. She had just zipped her top when she heard a knock on the door.
Aunt Bird was the first to enter. “Deborah Anne, you were just terrific out there.” Deborah hugged her, then Uncle Moses. “I didn’t know you could sing like that.” Aunt Bird fanned her face playfully. “That Lavelle sure is a looker.”
Anxiously, Deborah moved to her parents. “Hi, Mama.” She kissed her mother, then turned to her father and kissed him. “Did you enjoy the show?”
Elijah smiled. “My little Deborah Anne on a big stage like that. It really was something.” His eyebrows furrowed together. “But that dance you did with Lavelle—that was interesting.”
“I usually don’t do that,” Deborah quickly explained. “Emerald does that duet, but she’s sick. That’s why there were only two of us on the stage with Lavelle.”
“Even before that duet, you girls had some sexy moves,” Bubba said, but then lowered his head when Deborah glared at him.
“Well, I know it’s late, but do you guys think we can get together tonight?” she asked.
“That’s what we were planning, Deborah Anne,” said Virginia. “We’re staying at the Ramada Inn and thought you’d come over and have a little late dinner with us.”
Deborah smiled. “Oh, I’d love it. I’m just sorry I won’t have time to come home this time.”
“Well, you’re busy, dear.” Virginia hugged her daughter. “We’ll wait for you outside.”
“Good. I want to introduce you to Lavelle and the rest of them.”
As her relatives flocked from the room, Deborah sighed with relief. It hadn’t been as bad as she expected. It looked like her father had accepted what she was doing with the gift that God gave to her.
She grabbed her bag and rushed to meet her family.
CHAPTER 29
HOUSTON AND DALLAS WERE THE LAST CITIES on the first part of the tour. As Deborah went through rehearsals and then the six shows, she marveled at how well she’d become acclimated to life on the road. She wore the three- and four-inch heels as if she’d always worn them; she learned to stay awake until the early morning hours; and she drank Mountain Dew as if she owned stock in the company. She learned to ignore the sexual innuendoes and exploits and all of the other things that happened around her.
The only thing that lessened her joy was that she hadn’t heard from Triage, and the few messages she’d left him had gone unanswered.
He’s just working, she thought to comfort herself. But she couldn’t forget the kiss and wondered what he was thinking.
When they landed in Los Angeles, her eyes wandered around the gate area, then again around the baggage claim area, hoping that Triage would surprise her. But by the time the car service driver had packed the trunk with her bags, she knew he wasn’t coming.
Only exhaustion allowed her to sleep through the first night at home. The shrill ring of the phone awakened her. She peeked at the clock with one eye and saw that it was almost noon. She smiled, hoping it was Triage.
“Deborah?”
“Oh, hi, Lavelle.” She sat up in the bed.
“I’m sorry, it sounds like you were asleep.”
“Uh-huh. I’m surprised you’re up. I thought you’d sleep for a week.”
He laughed. “I will, when I finally get to bed. I was calling to see if we could get together for lunch.”
Deborah frowned. She hadn’t had any problems with Lavelle since that one incident, and she didn’t want to go back there.
“Lavelle, I don’t know. Is it something that we could discuss on the phone?”
“Deborah, I promise you this is business, and it’s important to me.” He paused, but with her continued silence, he went on: “We don’t have to do lunch. We can do a quickie, drinks maybe?”
After a bit more cajoling, Deborah finally agreed to meet at the Sunset Room.
When she arrived, Lavelle was already seated. Charles and a bodyguard Deborah didn’t recognize sat at a separate table behind him.
Lavelle held the chair for her as she sat down.
“Thanks for joining me, Deborah. You look rested.”
She looked him up and down. “And you look terrible. When are you going to get some rest?”
He chuckled. “There are a few things I have to take care of first, but believe me, tonight I’m going to sleep straight through to next Friday. By the way, I’m having a big birthday party.”
“I heard something about it.”
He reached into his pocket and slid a card across the table.
She picked up the card and smiled when she saw it was an invitation. She looked up at him. “Thanks for the invite, but is this the reason you wanted to meet today?”
“No, not really. I wanted to ask if you’d join Vianca and Emerald and sing at the party.”
She smiled. “I’d be glad to.”
“There’s another reason I wanted to talk to you, though.” He lifted the glass on the table that was half filled with a golden liquid and took a swallow. “I wanted to tell you how much I like having you as part of my team.”
She smiled, but remained silent.
“Deborah,” he said in a low voice. “I’m really sorry about what happened, and I hope you’ve forgiven me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I said it was no problem.”
“I know what you said, but you still seem distant, not like you were before, and I’m afraid now that we’re back in LA you might be think
ing of leaving. I really wouldn’t want you to do that because of me.”
“I’m fine, Lavelle, and I don’t have any intention of leaving the group.”
“Okay . . .” He sounded doubtful.
“I’m just trying to get used to the road. It’s a different life.”
He frowned. “I hope we haven’t made it hard for you.”
“No.” She hesitated, thinking of the Vianca-and-Lavelle saga, Emerald’s drinking problem, and all of the other things that had jolted her into the real world. “I just have some personal things to work out.”
He was visibly relieved. “You have a great future in this business, Deborah, and I want to help you in any way I can. I wanted to clear that up. So you really forgive me?”
“I’m a Christian. I have to do that.” She smiled.
He snickered. “You should tell that to my father.” When Deborah frowned, Lavelle waved his hand in the air. “Sorry, just some issues I have with my family.”
She paused before she said, “Anything you want to talk about?”
He looked down at his drink. “My father is a preacher, you know.”
She nodded. “Phoebe told me.”
He swallowed what remained in the glass. “Let’s just say that he and I disagree about how I should be making my living. He thinks I should be standing in his pulpit singing songs to God.”
Her father’s face jumped into her mind. “I know how you feel. I think my parents feel the same, but they’ve been supportive.”
“I can’t say that about my father. My career has really fractured our relationship.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He looked into his empty glass. “I haven’t really spoken to him in years. Sometimes he’ll say hello if he answers the phone when I call home.” When he stopped, Deborah remained silent, knowing he had more to say.
Lavelle raised his glass, signaling the waiter. He looked at Deborah and chuckled. “But the one thing about my father is that he sure knows how to accept a gift. He may not speak to me, but he graciously accepted a new Mercedes and a new house that I built for them.” He sounded bitter.
“Do you miss him?” Deborah asked softly.
He nodded. “We were best friends.”
“You should try talking to him. Maybe enough time has passed. When was the last time you went home?”
“A few weeks ago—when we were in Raleigh. But I didn’t go to my parents’ house. With the way things are, I didn’t want to upset my mother.”
“I understand how you feel, but you’ve got to try to make peace with him before it’s too late. Lavelle, we just never know.”
He shook his head. “I’ve thought about trying, but I guess since I don’t know what to expect, I just stay away.”
“You have to remember that you’re talking about your parents. No matter what happens, you have to find a way to bridge this gap.”
“I don’t know—”
“Of all the commandments, the first one with a promise is to honor our parents. Sometimes that may mean that we have to be bigger than they are. We have to take the first step.”
“It’s been a long time.”
“That may be good. Time may have helped your dad a bit.” She took his hands. “At least pray about it.”
Lavelle picked up the glass that the waiter placed in front of him, then put it down and smiled. “I think I just might try that. Who knows? If I pray, God just might have a message for me.”
Her smile matched his. “I bet He will.”
“Well, all I can say is, amen to that.”
CHAPTER 30
DEBORAH COULDN’T BELIEVE HOW QUICKLY HER first week at home had passed. Without rehearsals and with no communication from Triage, she had expected the time to drag. Instead, she’d spent full days trying to get settled back into LA life. She spent the first few days cleaning the apartment. No matter what she did, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being like a smothered pork chop. It was time for her to look for something bigger, and buy it if it was affordable.
Phoebe agreed when she came by to pick Deborah up for lunch one day.
“Girl, what are you doing living in this box?”
“I was just thinking that I have to do something about this.”
Phoebe stood with her hands on her hips. “Well, stop thinking, and let’s start doing!”
Deborah ran around town with Phoebe for a solid week looking at condos and townhouses in every area from the South Bay to Bel Air. Deborah was in awe as she traipsed through some of the beautiful models filled with expensive furniture and designer accessories.
That same week had passed before she got a message from Triage. As she did every day when she returned home and saw the blinking light of her answering machine, she held her breath. But this time, she exhaled when she heard his voice.
“Hi, Deborah. This is Triage. Welcome home. Sorry I haven’t been in touch. Been kind of busy, and now I’ll be out of town for a few days. I’ll be back next Friday, in time for Lavelle’s party. I’m sure you’ll be there, so I’ll see you then. Hope all is well. Peace out.”
The words were noncommittal, and his tone revealed even less. But at least she would see him at Lavelle’s party. She didn’t know how she was going to do it; she certainly didn’t want to have one of those “chick conversations” in which she would ask Triage, “Where do we stand?” But she needed an answer, and she just had to find a way to ask the question.
At lunch the next day, Deborah confided in Phoebe.
“We’ve been friends ever since he introduced me to Lavelle. He thinks of me as his homegirl, but then there are these times when we’re together when I feel like we’re a couple.”
“Here’s what you should do,” Phoebe began as she stuck a raw vegetable into her mouth. “The next time he kisses you, just stick your tongue down his throat.”
Phoebe laughed when she saw the look of shock that instantly blanketed Deborah’s face. “I’m serious, girl. It’s winner take all in today’s games.”
“I’m not looking for a game. I just want to know if we’re going to try to have a relationship.”
Phoebe waved her hand, dismissing Deborah’s words. “It’s the same thing. Listen, I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.” Phoebe pulled out her wallet and placed her credit card on the table.
“I was going to pay for lunch today,” Deborah protested. “You always pay.”
Phoebe waved her hand. “Look, we don’t have any time to argue.” She snapped her fingers, signaling the waitress. “We need to get out of here and find you a fabulous dress. Something that will make you look knock-down, drop-dead gorgeous. Something that will have Triage not knowing if he is going or coming.”
“I don’t know—”
“We need to find a dress where you won’t have to say a word. Triage will just fall to his knees.”
Deborah laughed at Phoebe’s enthusiasm. “Is there a dress out there like that?”
Phoebe smirked. “Girl, if you haven’t learned anything else from me, it’s that you can bring a man to his knees with your dress. Let’s get out of here,” she said, grabbing Deborah’s hand.
The last time Deborah was on Rodeo Drive, she had quickly pulled Vianca elsewhere. But today she let Phoebe stroll with her through several boutiques.
“You’ve got to let me pick the dress, Deborah. I know what I’m doing.”
Deborah sighed, knowing that there was no way she would wear anything that Phoebe picked out. So while Phoebe scanned the racks, Deborah kept her eyes open for something that would suit her own taste. But there was nothing that took her fancy. Maybe it’s the prices, she thought.
In Escada, Phoebe brought out two dresses. “One of these will do the trick.”
Deborah couldn’t hold back her look of shock. “Phoebe, neither one of those dresses look like me.”
“That’s the point, Deborah. You don’t want to look like you. That hasn’t worked yet, has it?”
Deborah turned aw
ay and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and while the white sweat suit she wore was fashionable, she looked like a high school student next to Phoebe in her silk georgette two-piece long skirt with matching tank top. Deborah knew she looked good, so why did Phoebe’s comment make her feel so bad?
“Come on, Deborah, just try it on.”
She took the hangers and marched past, though Phoebe didn’t seem to notice her sudden attitude. But the moment that Deborah put on the dress, she changed. The strapless tube dress felt luxurious as the black jersey hugged her body like a glove. The short train that came down the back added drama.
When Deborah stepped from the dressing room, Phoebe clapped.
“I told you. Look at you, you’re absolutely gorgeous.”
In spite of herself, Deborah smiled. “This dress does look nice.”
“Nice? Please. Nice is how you used to look. This is drop-to-your-knees gorgeous.”
Deborah swung around, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “But Phoebe, look at this,” she said, pointing to the panty lines. “What can I do?”
“Girl, you don’t wear underwear with this kind of dress.”
Deborah frowned. “I could never do that.” She continued to turn from side to side. The dress made her feel even more glamorous than some of the outfits she’d worn onstage.
“Think about Triage,” Phoebe whispered in her ear.
She hesitated. “What about a thong?”
“See, that’s the misconception. Even a thong will leave a line on a dress like this. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. What’s the big deal anyway? No one will know, and besides, I can bet you that ninety percent of the women there will be underwear-free.”
Deborah took a deep breath. She did want to look nice.
“Triage will be there, you’ll be singing onstage,” Phoebe continued, “and if you really want to make an impression . . .”
What’s the big deal? Deborah asked herself. It’s not like I’ll be wearing a sign saying I don’t have anything on. She looked in the mirror once more, inhaled, and said, “I’m going to do it.”
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