Rockstar Secrets

by Ja'Nese Dixon

  It was Sam.

  Congrats on the tour! I’m hearing great things about your show.

  Should I respond? He glanced down at Brione, she was still asleep. He wanted Sam to cover the Miami show, and if word of his progress reached her in Atlanta a boost of positive energy on her blog could result in more interviews, more interviews meant more readers, more readers meant more streams and hopefully more sales. A polite response wouldn’t hurt. He pecked it out with one thumb as to not wake Brione.

  Thanks.

  He held his breath hoping she wouldn’t text again. It was after two in the morning. Maybe she was leaving an industry party. He turned off his cellphone and placed it back on the nightstand.

  Their week vacation in Miami would start tomorrow, and it meant he’d see Brione’s hot body in a bikini or two. He kissed her shoulder dragging her back against his chest and closed his eyes. This would be the best six figures he’d spent in his life.

  * * *

  Brione opened her eyes and her nose was smashed against the rock, Marques called a chest.

  “Good morning beautiful.”

  “Good morning your Royalness.”

  “I’m starting to think that will never get old. Do you think we could work it into my promo materials?”

  “I’m off of work. So you’ll have to call Devin or Eliana or Cameron. Someone promised me an eventful vacation in Miami full of wooing and wining and dining. So, I’m sorry Mr. R&B Prince. No promo updating for me.” She kissed his chest.

  “Wining and dining? I don’t recall that conversation,” he joked.

  “Lies!” She yawned behind her hand.

  “Get a few more hours of sleep, and we’ll head out on our first adventure.” She struggled to keep her eyes open. “What color is your bikini?”

  “Which one?”

  His breath caught. She giggled.

  “Bet you didn’t expect that lover boy.” Sleep was calling her name. The next few days she planned to obey.

  “No sweetness, I wasn’t.” He kissed her lips softly, a soothing peace permeated through her body. The nights of exploring his body, the days of touring the various cities had caught up with her. She yawned, her eyes heavy.

  “Will you be here when I wake?” She rolled over and pulled the comforter into a fluffy, pillow-like ball tucking it under her chin.

  “I wouldn’t dare leave your side. And if you don’t see me, I won’t be too far. Sleep princess.” His words warmed her heart, and she obeyed his command falling into a deep sleep.

  “Night. Night.”

  * * *

  Marques watched her sleep and arranged their first day in Miami. Waking up next to her felt right. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel once they parted ways in a couple of weeks. He shook off the thought, taking it moment by moment was all he could do starting with showing her the city in style.

  Devin emailed the itinerary for the press rounds. He had five full days alone with Brione. Then two days of media before the South Beach show.

  He wanted her to kick back and unwind. The highlight for today would be a yacht excursion. He rolled out of bed to take a shower and order breakfast. Brione loved her breakfast and coffee. Granted it would be more like brunch, but she’d be starved by the time she woke up.

  He checked his emails and social media once more before showering. He emerged a new man, rubbing a hand over his thick hair, he needed a haircut. He'd call their traveling concierge service to schedule a barber. It was an upstart requesting investment from RSE. He’d test their services and report back to Cameron.

  He walked through the bedroom to get his phone and found Brione sitting up in the bed.

  “Your phone kept chiming.”

  “Sorry.” He reached for it. He unlocked his phone, noticing he had ten text messages. “Your breakfast is on the table.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulders.

  “Yes.” She hopped to her feet, kissing him as she walked to the back. “Food then a bubble bath.”

  “We have an evening on a yacht planned for tonight.” He watched her curvy body as he followed her into the kitchen. “It’s in the oven. I’ll grab it, have a seat.”

  He sat the to-go container on the table with plastic utensils. The slight shadows beneath her eyes were still noticeable. She’d need several days to bounce back. “I can reschedule it if you want to hang out and rest today.”

  “Tell me about this yacht. Is it a real one?”

  “Princess, what is a fake one? And why would I take you on one?” He laughed as her beautiful eyes found his. “What?”

  “Ha ha ha. I mean like one of those big ones you see in music videos.” Her hands opened wide mirroring the grandness in her voice.

  “I’ll leave it to you to decide. But I aim to please.” He felt like a goofy smile remained planted on his face when she was around.

  “That sounds intriguing, but resting and hanging out alone with you today seems more appealing.” She returned his smile then took a long drink of her coffee and shook her head. “Thanks for the coffee. Let me finish this and get ready.”

  “No rush and I can always reschedule.” He scanned his messages. Half of them were from Sam. He wondered if Brione recognized her name, sure she would.

  Spending time on a bus for hours, days, then weeks at a time taught you a lot about a person. Brione had one of those scary memories. Details, facts, names, figures down to the penny. Very little brushed past her without her inquisitive mind latching ahold of it.

  The first week she asked about equipment and questioned everything. Everything. And she didn’t stop with the tasks in her charge, but the band, the charter bus, and the venues. She could probably play an instrument by now if someone fell sick or drive the bus if Jax needed a break. It was that unique trait that made every event run efficiently. She had no issue with rolling up her sleeves, switching her heels for sneakers, or loading the bus if it meant the show went on.

  The thought of her seeing Sam’s name on his cellphone after telling her their shaky history made him feel uncomfortable. He held up his phone, “Let me return a few calls then I’m all yours.”

  Her smile was tight. “Go ahead. I’ll finish up here then get ready.”

  “Take your time.”

  He walked into the living room of the rental. They had a choice of a hotel or a private residence. He'd selected the house to give them privacy and access to a private beach. It had five bedrooms, a private pool overlooking the water, in a gated community.

  It felt like a home with its beach decor colored in teals, yellows, and warm browns. Not as posh as a hotel but it already felt like a vacation.

  The focal point of the room was the wall to wall windows overlooking the ocean. Sam’s parting words crept up, “Unlike you, my talent is my ticket. Not my family name.” He rubbed his chest still feeling their sting. She always had a way with words; her laser precision hit its mark.

  His bruised ego told him to leave that woman in Atlanta. Ambition made him believe he could control his emotions and navigate their shady past and they both could benefit from the successful run of this tour. He needed Sam for Sam’s Hotspot only. They could walk away as acquaintances who once were much more.

  Marques had to remain as friendly as securing the feature necessitated. He’d have his team manage their interactions and keep it strictly professional. The last thing he needed was her laser focus aiming to take down his career again.

  He sat on the couch and scanned Sam’s text messages.

  I have a few questions for your feature. Want to meet while I’m in town?

  Her second message read.

  I’ll be there a few days before your show. Would you like to grab drinks?

  Marques shook his head. He could forward the messages to Devin or Eliana to keep it professional. But knowing he pushed for the interview made him feel compelled to respond. She was doing him a favor by featuring his tour.

  Hey. I’m on vacation….

  He deleted that message. Too m
uch information.

  Hey Sam. Thanks for agreeing to feature the tour.

  That seemed appropriate. He pressed send.

  Send the questions over to my assistant, and we’ll get them back ASAP.

  He typed up a final message with Eliana’s email address, followed by a direct text to Eliana telling her to look out for the interview questions from Sam.

  The younger Andrew who wanted a woman like Sam sought acceptance. He wanted to be the center of attention. And she was bad. Built like a brick house, thick in all the right places. The type of bad that crept up and wiped you out.

  They both wanted to be seen, the type that came with fame. But after his DUI scare, he realized their relationship had no substance. It was all about the parties, the connections, the limelight. The sound of running water pulled him from his thoughts, turning his head toward the bedroom.

  Brione was all substance. Equally beautiful, beyond reproach in the brains department. She made him step his game up. Outperform himself. Out-think himself. Be a better version of himself. He boarded the bus to prove a point to the world. But convincing Brione they had something special could alter his life.

  Don’t bed where you make your bread. Rolled on repeat in his mind. He never was a rule follower. He shrugged a shoulder and leaned back on the couch. He palmed the decorative pillow and looked toward the open doorway of the bedroom hoping to catch a glimpse of her as she walked out of the bathroom. His mind had no issue envisioning her bare curves; her curly hair pulled up exposing her neck, as the slight splash of water traveled through the quiet house, her lounging in the fragrant bubbles. Take your time.

  He tapped the end of his phone against his knee. He and Brione needed this time. To see if they were more than the tour bus and sex. This was a time where his all or nothing mentality worked against him. He wanted all of her, all to himself. And his throbbing manhood agreed. She was much more than he expected and he had to take this time to see if they could build a life after this tour ended.

  He dropped his head rubbing the back of his neck. Who would have thought he’d want more than the tour? Would she? He looked toward the bedroom. He planned to find out.

  Marques sent a group message to the band notifying them of his decision to turn his phone off. Then the final text went to the RSE partners. They had three hours before he shifted his entire attention to Brione. He did not like the timing. Now was the time for building his brand, touring, and making more music. But denying his feelings for her would be foolish. Like one of those mistakes, you’d regret later in life after you’ve succumbed to wisdom and achy bones.

  He dropped his phone on the table and walked to the back of the room.

  The white sand and the sway of the palm trees called to him. He opened the heavy sliding glass door. He stepped out and took a deep breath of the faint salty scent. The patio was fully furnished with several sitting areas. It would serve as an ideal location for a music video, he thought. To the right was a covered section with a massive grill and outside kitchen. To the left was a waterfall flowing into the pool that blended into the horizon. He turned to appreciate the Atlantic ocean. The sight of jet skis and boats did not lessen its tranquil power. This was the break he needed.

  He closed the door behind him and sat in the closest lawn chair. He leaned back stretching out his legs, crossing his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. He expected a long night ahead. He thought he heard a ring from inside, but the grips of exhaustion pulled him in.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The week went by in a blink. Marques rolled out the red carpet showing Brione the best of Miami. The yacht was larger than her condo in Houston. They ate meals prepared by a private chef, and at her request, they stayed in most of the week. The private beach just outside the house ensured their privacy, and she couldn’t ask for much more.

  Brione stepped out; they were packed and ready to continue the tour.

  “How’d I do?” He slipped up behind her wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned back.

  “You did your thing.” His laughter rumbled in his chest. He kissed her neck. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. Now it’s back to the grind.” He lowered them into the lounge chair.

  “You have interviews tomorrow and then your big Miami show in two days. You ready?” She glanced over her shoulder; his somber expression surprised her.

  “Always.”

  “What’s up with that face?” She turned around and kissed him softly, feeling the tension leave his body. Pleased she settled against his chest comfortable between his legs. They had a rhythm. A natural way of coexisting that she’d never experienced. She felt his nervous edge as real as her own heartbeat. “I’m listening.”

  “Big shows come with big expectations.”

  She shrugged. She knew a lot about expectation. It was shackled around her ever since her father befriended Stewart Bradley, Sr. Looking up at Marques she felt stronger. The road was teaching Brione to trust her instincts. She could take care of herself and Kayla. She could build a life for them without the help or interference of her parents or the Bradleys.

  She pushed those thoughts aside. Her heart thanked Marques and RSE for extending a lifeline, for an opportunity to change her life, forever. And he didn’t know it.

  “Look at me. Now I got you all gloomy.” He kissed her forehead. “We will not spend our last night alone dreading our return to the tour.”

  “Do you dread returning?” She looked up at him.

  “No. I hate that we won’t be alone. But we’ll get away again.” He smiled, and she glanced away. Trying to find the ocean in the sea of darkness.

  “Is this what you expected?” she asked.

  “On what level?” He ran a hand over her head.

  “All of it. The music, the fans, the experience of bringing both in one space. It must be surreal.” To long for something and to have it manifest. That’s how she felt about taking control of her life. It feels dreamlike most days, but watching him subdue the crowds and sing his heart out gave Brione the courage to create the life she wanted too. And deep down he had planted a new desire in her, and it was to have him too. Kayla and Marques.

  “It is. And I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. I needed this tour to breathe life into my music. The fans are loving it. Sales are exceeding our expectations. I actually think Cameron will combust with excitement.”

  “During our last call, I thought he’d jump through the phone.” They laughed. “They are proud of you. I’m proud of you,” she added.

  “Thank you, love.” He kissed her hand.

  Neither of them spoke for a while as the crash of the waves echoed in the distance. This house was the perfect reprieve; she felt rested and ready to finish the tour. All the hours of sound checks, handling the band and waiting for Marques to return from studio sessions left her hours to research her legal rights to Kayla. She’d even reached out to a few lawyers to assist her. How would her parents take it? In all of her research, she’d yet to uncover the connection between the Bradleys and her parents, why they’d so readily agreed to hang her and Kayla out to dry. It was her first order of business when she returned to Houston. But not tonight.

  Marques started humming a melody, and it was as soothing as a lullaby. “What’s that? I like it.” She smiled.

  “Something new I’m working on. How would you describe love?”

  “Love? Real love?"

  “Yeah.”

  “With my limited experience—”

  “You only need one. Right?”

  “Hypothetically?”

  “Stop stalling.”

  She glanced out into the darkness and thought about the two real examples of love: Kayla and Andrew Marques Carter. And it hit her; she loved him. She didn’t want to, but she did. Love had not been kind to her, and the reality that he’d taken hold of her heart made her want to walk away and not look back. Her plate was overflowing with issues,
and the last thing she wanted was to enter a relationship with baggage.

  “Don’t overthink it.” Before, she could blink she was flat on her back beneath him. He kissed her forehead, her nose, and his tongue teased across her mouth before he claimed it. “You are the most observant person I know, next to Cameron or maybe Damian.”

  “Damian?” She smoothed the front of his shirt buying herself some time.

  “You met him and Imani, let’s plan to have dinner with them when we get back to Houston. He’s a lawyer too.”

  “He is?” She didn’t recall that detail.

  “Yes and no. He holds a license, but most of his work is in property development. He's a man of many talents. He should be a private detective.”

  “Why?” She glanced up at him.

  “The man knows how to hunt in the deepest, darkest places and go undetected. He’s like a chameleon. Business, real estate, and there’s an edge to him. People call him ‘The Shark’ and he loves it.” He chuckled. “I guess his edge gives the team a nice balance. But I’m glad he’s on our side.”

  “Really?” Maybe Damian could help her. But would he?

  “I think you two will get along well.” He wiggled his way between her legs. “Now for your answer.”

  Brione opened her mouth to answer when he snaked down the length of her body. “I can’t think when you do that Andrew.”

  “I like it when you call me Andrew.” She chuckled. “You think too much. I recall winning a bet and tonight my love I plan to collect.”

  “You are a sneaky one….” He pulled her leggings off. The shift in the energy swirling around them was real, a vortex of desire clashing with an uncontainable need resulting in a tsunami. Tell him now.