She crossed her arms over her chest. “What about Marques? He is really feeling you and this is my career, Bri.”
“I know. I tried to ignore him. But for the first time, I feel something, I really want to enjoy my time with him.” No matter how great he was, her baggage could ruin them all. “I can’t let it risk me getting Kayla back.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I want to buy her back.”
“You want to what?”
The tension in the room felt raw, on edge. Brione paused. She must appear crazy because the words sounded unreal aloud, but it was the truth. She wanted to buy their freedom and those pictures.
“I’ve spent years trying to figure this all out, and my clock is ticking. I could only think of one plausible reason that my parents would go along with this. And that’s money.”
“I can’t believe your parents would…” Her eyes danced with uncertainty.
“Believe it.” She stood. “I need a drink.”
“Make that two.” Eliana rubbed her temples as Brione walked to the kitchen. “Let me get this straight. You believe your parents and the Bradleys are in cahoots?”
“I know they are.” She poured two glasses of wine.
“Why?”
“That is a question I can’t for the life of me figure out, and my father won’t answer.”
“Which explains why you don’t speak anymore.”
Brione nodded. That night four years ago shattered any hopes of having a relationship with her father. Growing up she was always second best to her brother. She wasn’t smart enough, pretty enough, articulate enough. The only reason she pursued law school was to prove she was all those things and more. But he never saw her.
“Until last week. I told them about my plan. My father lashed out, forbidding me. He told me to stop acting like a child and marry Stewart.”
“Well, that sounds romantic.” Eliana snorted.
“You know Dad’s in a class of his own.” They never had the best relationship, and this situation with Stewart made it worse. “My father passed the phone to my mother, and she said the most peculiar thing.” She passed Eliana her glass and sat on the floor again.
“What did she say?”
“Pay him.” Eliana choked on her wine, Brione patted her back firmly.
“Pay him, what and why?” She wiped her mouth with a paper towel.
Brione shrugged. “I don’t care. I just want it to be over. Stewart’s pressing for a wedding date. He wants it by the end of the summer.”
“Or what?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know.”
Eliana reached for her hand. “How are you dealing with this?”
“I keep it all tucked away in a mental cupboard. School. Work. Business. Kayla. Stewart. Trying to blend it all makes for a disaster.”
“And where does Marques fit into this cupboard of yours?”
“Honestly, I want to pretend I never met him. But the sound of his voice, his laugh, his music takes me far away from this mess. It's motivating me to clean it up once and for all. I’m tired of living without my baby and them using her to get at me. Thanks to you and RSE I believe a have a shot.”
Eliana turned towards her. “How do you plan to make this happen?”
“I asked Stewart to let me keep Kayla this summer. And surprisingly he agreed to let her stay here for two weeks. I want to show them that I can take care of her on my own.”
“You can count on me to babysit.” Eliana smiled.
“Thank you. But my mother’s words made me think of my contract with RSE. I’m prepared to give them my entire savings to let us go.”
Her breath caught. “After the tour, I should have close to 200,000 dollars. Whatever my father and Mr. Bradley have going on I can’t imagine it costing more than that.”
“That’s a mini fortune.”
“It’s all I have. That and my degree.”
“Then what will you do.”
“Take it a day at a time.” Brione prayed he accepted the deal. “The way I figure it, his parents are pulling his strings like my parents are pulled mine. They knew the only way to keep me under their thumb was through my sweet Kayla.”
Missing her made it hard to breathe. She already missed so much of Kayla's life. To numb the pain she buried it beneath studying, clients, and school.
They controlled phone calls, visitations, and Brione considered going to court a million times. But the thought of possibly harming her parents in the process made her believe she could go through with marrying Stewart. She would do it for them all until she met Marques.
“Peanut, why now?”
Brione looked at her hands and the empty glasses between them. “He’s different. Andrew had me before I knew he was Marques. I considered declining the contract and walking away. But something about him makes me believe we both are looking for the same thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“A second chance.” The intensity of his pursuit reminded her of how hard she worked to remain at the top of her class. And she saw that fire in him.
“Look,” Eliana broke the silence, “tread lightly. Marques is a wonderful guy. This plan could backfire. Make sure I have the contact details for everyone. I got your back, but you gotta promise me one thing.” She looked deep into her eyes. “Promise you’ll call before you do anything crazy.”
“Crazy?”
“Bri you are known to fall off the face of the earth. You won’t call or answer your door. Don’t try to do this alone. Promise me.” The strain in her voice made Brione reach for her hand.
“I promise, Honey.”
They hugged. Eliana was all she had in the world besides Kayla. And Marques. She pushed down the thought. He wasn’t hers to have.
Brione brushed away her tears and reached for her phone. She texted the contact details to Eliana relieved to share her plan with someone.
“Now show me what you packed for Miami.”
Chapter Eighteen
Marques took a deep breath and watched the band load onto the tour bus.
“How you feeling Baby Bro?”
He glanced over his shoulder as Cameron walked over. “Overwhelmed. Thankful. Thrilled.”
“All of those feelings are necessary. I am confident in your gift and your determination to make this tour, and everything you put your hands on will succeed.” He placed his strong hands on Marques’ shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. “You got this.”
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He never wanted to disappoint his brother. They fought, but Cameron was a rock-solid supporter of Marques. He never had to doubt it.
“Ahhh your farewell committee," Cameron said as Bruce walked up. “What’s up man, how’s Sandi?”
“The babies are holding on strong, we're praying she makes it to full term. Now hurry cause I was sent for ice cream, donuts, and cheese.”
Cameron shook his head. “Donuts and cheese?”
“Don’t ask. Last week it was Kool Aide flavored pickles.” They laughed turning in the direction of Jamal and Devin walking alongside the bus.
The bunch stood around laughing at Sandi’s pregnancy cravings as Bruce retold the tale.
“The last partner is here," Cameron said, watching as Damian rounded the car, opening the door for his wife, Imani. He walked in their direction as Imani stopped to talk with the dancers.
Another round of hugs ensued.
“Let’s call this meeting to order.”
“Yes, because time is money,” Jamal reminded them, as their money man.
“Yeah, yeah Midas.” Devin leaned against Cameron’s car.
“You ready Baby Boy?” Damian asked, he too was like another brother. Marques ran behind Bruce, Damian, and Cameron until they went away to college. To think they were now partners in RSE to support him was a dream come true.
“Ready as I’ll ever be," Marques responded.
“You got this.”
“You’re starting to sound a lot like Cameron.”
“Cameron wishes he was as fly as me," Damian added.
“In your dreams. We only keep you around because Imani is the fly one.” Cameron winked.
“Aaaaahhhhhh.” They guys said in unison.
“Brother we can’t find a woman blind enough to tolerate you let alone allow you to put a ring on it,” Devin jumped in, always quick on his feet.
“Marriage is not what I do.” Cameron’s famous words, eventually the laughter died down as the men stood around in a huddle. “Fellas delay is not denial.”
All the men remained silent. Marques scanned their faces.
“It is official. We missed our original deadline.”
“Twice,” Devin corrected.
“But there is no time like the present. As partners, we are sending our flagship artist off to give the women a sample of what to expect from Rockstar Entertainment.”
The men and the band clapped and howled with glee. Marques dropped his head to shield them from his overactive emotions. He could laugh, cry, dance, sing. Anything to relieve the tightness in his chest, thankful to God for second chances.
"Bruce," Cameron called out.
“I’m all good. The music is with the DJ, and Brione has backups. We also have files stored in the cloud if needed. I ran through the entire show once more with the background singers and the musicians last night.”
“Thanks, man.” Cameron nodded. “Jamal.”
“All invoices are covered. The venues are prepped. Brione killed the negotiations. We are under budget, and that includes the merchandise. You have apparel, CDs, and she even arranged for special VIP packages.” Hearing him praise Brione made Marques smile. “Greenlight here too.”
“Great. Devin?”
“I ditto Jamal’s update with the CDs. The EP is available at all major retailers, and the pre-order is up for the LP. You have radio interviews in each city and a few extras as you pass through major cities. Do me a favor and get a good sense of their willingness to have us back.”
“Sure.” Marques would tell Brione too.
“The rest you can conduct on the bus,” Devin continued. “There are video and audio podcasts, again, Brione has all the specifics. I have a few more requests to respond to, but I’ll chat with you about those after we get the first few shows done.”
“Sweet.” Cameron turned to glance over his shoulder. “Damian any updates from you?”
“No. Lodging is mostly in resorts to make it more exclusive. Your arrangements for Miami is A-list and Eliana will have the package delivered to you. It’s a go for me too.”
Cameron clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “There you go. Brione and I will touch base after every show. We each will attend at least one show. You have the entire team at your disposal. I must commend Eliana and Brione for pulling the fine details together.” Cameron beamed at the team.
“Start loading up," Cameron stated as his brothers huddle around him to bid him farewell.
The band returned to their vehicles as they starting loading their luggage on the bus, leaving them alone. Marques never saw Cameron look so happy. The past two years had tested them all. Now he was up.
“Guys, you are my brothers either by blood or sweat. And I will make you proud.” Scanning his small huddle, his family. He was ready. No more nerves, no more doubts, only results.
Cameron pulled him close. “Let’s get you guys on the road.”
“Don’t forget the rules," Bruce added.
“What rules?” Marques asked.
“Dad never told you the rules?” Cameron asked.
“Nah.”
The guys chuckled. Marques glanced around at their knowing expressions.
“Dad and Uncle Jared created a set of rules to remember while on the road.” Cameron started.
“Especially after they married," Bruce said. Jared Daniels was his father and a member of Sinsations too.
“What are the rules?”
Cameron glanced around like he was about to tell a secret. The fellas moved in, and he did too. “Rule number one: Don’t trust a woman enthralled by the glitz and glamour of entertainment. Rule number two: Don’t sacrifice family for fame. Hence our motto.”
“Family over fame,” the men said.
Marques absorbed this information. He’d have to chat with his father. How’d he miss out on this?
“Rule number three,” Cameron held up three fingers.
“Don’t marry for money," Jamal said.
“Don’t mistake the mic for the man," Bruce said. That made four.
This talk was worse than his father’s man-to-man before he went on his first date.
“Lastly, don’t bed where you make your bread.” Cameron looked him straight in the eyes. “They wrote these rules and used them to guide them on tours and through life. Now you, little brother, are off to tour. Understand?”
Time stood still in his mind. Like it granted him a magical pause button.
Images of Brione’s curly hair and a composition notebook with a pen gripped in her hand, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose with her wise eyes trained on him. Was it possible to acquire a glasses fetish?
Yes.
Hell, yes. Because Marques had one. But only for hers. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat type of desire. The kind of itch he couldn’t mention not even to his brothers.
He saw movement behind them and noticed Brione walking up to the bus. She passed her luggage to the driver while gripping a quilt in her arms. He must have said something because her laughter floated over to him and his stomach clenched as she pushed her glasses up her nose. She turned to board the bus and scanned the area like he’d called her name. Her eyes found his. A slow smile crossed her face, and with a finger wave she was gone.
Don’t bed where you make your bread. Yeah, right.
He looked up at the windows trying to catch a glimpse of her movement on the bus. The creator of that rule did not know her. Not when images of all the ways he wanted to love on Brione surfaced. Visions of her twisted in sheets, beneath him, on top of him, next to him, beside him. How would he survive this tour and not break every one of those rules?
“I’ll see you in New Orleans.” Cameron gripped his neck pulling him into a hug. “Have fun but stay focused.”
“Right.”
Chapter Nineteen
Marques boarded the bus and glanced over the rail. She sat in the front lounge texting on her cellphone with a bag at her feet and a quilt tucked in her arms.
“Hey princess.” She glanced up, and a soft smile crossed her face.
“Hey, Mr. Fancy Pants.”
“Mr. What?” He sat beside her pulling Brione into a side hug.
“Fancy Pants. Look at this bus.” Her head swept the room in awe.
“Yeah, we don’t play about our traveling. You should see my dad’s tour bus. I could live in that thing.” He laughed. “Did you select your bunk?”
“No, I didn’t know where to begin. I wanted to wait for you.” His heart warmed.
“Let me give you a tour.” He stood and reached for her blanket, placing it on the side.
“I’d love that.”
Marques reached a hand for her, she accepted. He pulled her to her feet, and she slipped her phone into her pocket.
“I asked the band to give us a moment since this is your first tour. I hope you don’t mind, but you’re the only woman.” She stopped, and so did he. The look in her eyes made his heart race. “Is that a problem?”
She shook her head and avoided his eyes. He slipped a finger under her chin and turned her face to his.
“Look at me, baby. I want you to enjoy our time together. We can always book another bus.” It would delay them, but many tours kept the headliner separate from the musicians. His happened to be friends, so he loved hanging with them. They also knew how to give him space. “I trust these guys. You’ll be safe.”
“I’m fine. Really. I thought th
is was a bus tour.” She looked away.
“This area is the front lounge. We have the couches and my favorite the recliners.” This was his favorite tour bus. The couches ran the length of the lounge on both sides, stopping at the galley on the left and recliners on the right. “We like having open seating. We all can work in this space without smothering each other.”
He turned to the right and extended a hand to the wet bar. “This is the galley. We have a microwave, refrigerator, dishes, the works. It is fully stocked, and a team will service it in every city.”
“Is that something I need to handle?”
“No, the company handles it but I’ll make sure you have their contact information.” She nodded, he led her towards the back of the bus. “This is the bunk hallway.”
He pulled back a curtain for her to see inside. She let go of his hand and crawled inside.
“There are six bunks. Each bunk has a TV, phone, personal storage.” He pointed to each as he mentioned them.
“This is really roomy.”
He nodded. “We have to spend a lot of hours on this bus. It is best to keep everyone as comfortable as possible.”
“Do the phones work?” She picked up the wall unit.
“Yes, but just inside. It’s like a hotel phone. We can talk between bunks, with the driver, the front lounge, and you can call me.”
“Why would I call you?”
“I don’t know, you may get lonely or bored,” he added as she stood up and straightened her shirt.
“I’ll remember that.”
“Please do. Here’s the bathroom.” He opened the door and flicked the switch and the room flooded with light.
“This is amazing.” She stepped inside.
“There’s a shower, too. It’s behind the door. I doubt you’ll need it. We have accommodations throughout the tour, but it is a fully functioning bathroom. Next is the stateroom.”
He gestured to the closed door at the end of the hall. He reclaimed her hand and pulled her forward. He opened the door and stepped aside as he pulled her inside. He sat on the bed while she explored his room. The glass shower, full-size bed, and large flat screen tv made it resemble a traditional bedroom, not one rolling on wheels.
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