Lilah's List

by Robyn Amos

  “He’s a young man who was in here early in the week trying to drum up some business for his car service. I don’t normally support gypsy cabs, but this guy seemed really sincere. He’s just starting out, so you could probably get him to drive you anywhere you’d like without too much advance notice.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Lilah said, shoving the card into her handbag. “Right now, all I want is a hot shower. See you later,” she said as she walked to the elevator.

  It had been a trying day, but it wouldn’t have been nearly so bad if she could have gone through it with someone else.

  That was the hardest thing to adjust to since the divorce—doing everything alone. Angie’d had to work and Lilah hadn’t wanted to waste the day in her hotel room by herself.

  Walking the streets hadn’t been a big deal during the day, despite watching the tourists comprised of couples and families exploring the city. But once it had gotten dark, Lilah had begun to realize just how vulnerable she was.

  She knew that Angie’s life didn’t stop just because she was in town, and that, if she wanted to get through The List, there were things she was going to have to do on her own.

  But as Lilah let herself into her room and stretched out on the bed, it was hard not to feel lonely. It would have been nice to have someone else to curl up next to her.

  By the next morning Lilah had pushed her melancholy aside. It was a new day.

  Yesterday felt like a wash, because she had nothing new to add to her blog. No one wanted to read about her disasters in knitting. Today, she needed to make something happen.

  Spending so much time with Angie lately reminded Lilah how much she had changed over the years. She’d been proactive. A doer. Lately she’d been sitting back and letting life happen to her. She needed to take control.

  Tyler had tried to get Reggie to the restaurant to meet them on Saturday, but that had fallen through. The old Lilah wouldn’t be sitting around waiting for another door to open.

  The old Lilah would punch her way through a wall.

  Sitting down at her computer, Lilah ran a Google search for Reggie Martin’s name. After wading through fan pages and celebrity gossip, she finally came across a useful bit of information.

  She had the name of his publicist, Manny Lupinsky.

  Angie was always telling her that she could talk her way through anything. Lilah hadn’t earned the top sales honor at her real estate firm by accident.

  So without hesitating she picked up the phone. After a brief conversation with his receptionist, she was being transferred to Reggie’s publicist’s voice mail.

  “Hello, Mr. Lupinsky. This is Lilah B-brown with Hot—” she paused “—Pocket Jeans. We’re very interested in using your client Reggie Martin in a full-page ad campaign for our jeans. We’d love it if you could arrange a meeting with us and your client to discuss it.” Lilah left her cell phone number and hung up.

  What had she just done? Lilah shook off her reservations. She couldn’t wait to tell Angie—she would be so proud of her.

  Tuesday evening, Reggie Martin looked through the glass studio window at his brother. He’d had to twist his arm to get Tyler to come there. For some reason, Tyler was still ticked off because he’d missed dinner Saturday.

  What was the big deal? Something about meeting some girl he used to know? His brother didn’t usually care how he dealt with fans.

  Reggie shrugged it off. Tonight probably wasn’t the best possible time to talk to Tyler about Atlanta. But the more he thought about it, the more he felt like he needed a change.

  Tyler always wanted him to take things slow, but Reggie never would have gotten his break if he hadn’t taken a big risk. His gut was telling him to go for it.

  On the other hand, without Tyler’s support he would have drowned out here in the city. Maybe he already had everything he needed. After all, it was New York City. How could Atlanta compare to that?

  He and his producer, Max, had put in a lot of work over the last few days to pull together a funkier hip-hop track for the dance clubs. It wasn’t quite the sound he was hoping for, but maybe this would be good enough. He needed Tyler’s opinion.

  When it came to his music, no one was a bigger supporter than Tyler. If he thought the track was hot, then maybe Reggie would have a chance.

  “All right, Max, hit it.”

  Music filled his headphones and Reggie closed his eyes and let the words flow through him.

  Tyler’s neck snapped up when Reggie started singing. The smooth melodic quality of his voice brought him back to the first time he saw his brother on stage. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it had brought tears to his eyes.

  This was what it was all about. This is exactly what Tyler admired about Lilah and her list—taking your dreams and making them reality. That was one of his goals when he began to study law. He’d wanted to make things happen for people who couldn’t get there on their own.

  The entertainment business may not have been his vision when he started law school, but moments like this made it all worth it.

  His chest swelled with pride as he listened to his brother using his God-given gift to its full potential. The new version of “Love Triangle” was good. They’d sped up the tempo and added more runs to match the pulsing beat. The kids in the clubs would love it.

  He’d hand-carry it to all the DJs at the hottest night spots himself if he had to.

  Reggie hit his final riff and the song ended with a bang. Tyler looked through the glass at his little brother and felt a stab of guilt.

  He’d decided that Reggie wasn’t good enough for Lilah. Who was he kidding? Reggie was a good man with an amazing talent. Any woman would be lucky to have his full attention.

  Reggie let the headphones slide down his neck. “So, what did you think, Ty?”

  The track was definitely hot, but if Tyler told him that, Reggie wouldn’t strive to do better. “It was okay. I’m not sure what, but something was missing. I was hoping for something even funkier, but this should work.”

  Reggie nodded. “Yeah, it wasn’t quite what I wanted, but I thought we needed to get on this sooner rather than later.”

  Max looked up from his sound board. “I don’t know what you two are talking about. I think this is the jam.”

  Tyler shrugged. “If this is what you want to go with, we can get Manny to start pushing it out to the clubs.”

  “No, man, your publicist can only do so much,” Max said. “Reg, if you want to get this out, you’re going to have to take it to the clubs yourself.”

  Reggie came out of the recording booth to join them. Tyler clapped him on the back. “All right, kid. If you had to miss dinner Saturday night, I’m glad to see that you put some real work in. This is good work.”

  Reggie nodded, a small smile curving his lips.

  Max laughed. “Damn right we put some real work in. He made me miss a slamming party on the west side. I don’t know what he was smoking, calling me at the last minute, insisting we go to the studio, when we already had the time booked for today. I gotta admit though, that extra day made a difference.”

  Tyler turned and cut his eyes at Reggie. “You called him at the last minute, huh?”

  “Look, you just heard the man say that extra day made a difference.”

  Tyler just shook his head. Reggie never changed.

  Reggie grabbed Tyler’s arm and pulled him out of the room. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  It was all Tyler could do not to roll his eyes. He was so exasperated with the kid. “What is it?”

  “You know how you said the track was missing something? Well, I think so, too. I need to add a different flavor. Maybe a little dirty South to funk it up. I know this guy in Atlanta who works with Jermaine Dupri, and he thinks I could really take my sound to the next level if I spend some time down there.”

  “And?” Tyler’s patience was long gone.

  “I was wondering what you thought about that?”

  “Let me think abou
t this,” he said, without pausing to think at all. “You want to go down to Atlanta where you have almost no contacts, and put your entire music career in someone else’s hands? If this guy wants to work with you, let him meet you in the studio here in New York.”

  “Come on, man, you know it doesn’t work like that.”

  “Do you really think this is the right time for you to play Russian roulette with your music? This time last year, nothing you did could have really hurt you because no one was watching. Now you’ve got the world’s attention. You’re on the brink of either hitting it big or disappearing into obscurity. It’s up to you, kid.”

  Tyler turned on his heel and walked back into the room. It boggled his mind that Reggie was ready to blow his whole career on one crazy risk. When was he going to learn that you couldn’t have everything overnight? Real success took time.

  Reggie did have an amazing talent, but Tyler had been right about him not being ready for a woman like Lilah. Reggie never appreciated the good things that came into his life.

  Chapter 10

  Wednesday morning, Tyler sat in his office trying to make sense of the last few days. He’d had his hands full with Reggie lately. The kid seemed to be losing a bit of his confidence.

  Tyler had thought the blue jeans ad that had come up would have been just what Reggie needed to get his head back in the game. But Manny wouldn’t even let Tyler mention it to him. The publicist had said that he couldn’t find any information on Hot Pocket Jeans, and he didn’t want Reggie getting himself involved with a fly-by-night company.

  Tyler had agreed, but he leaned on the guy to get Reggie some kind of promotion to replace it, and Manny had come through with a series of radio interviews that week.

  With Reggie finally squared away, Tyler’s mind kept wandering back to Lilah. He wanted to see her again, but he didn’t know how to go about it without dragging Reggie into the picture.

  Suddenly remembering that she had a blog, Tyler opened up his Internet browser. When he’d spotted the address scrawled down the side of her list, he’d instantly committed it to memory. He typed in the address and her most recent entry came into view.

  Lilah’s List Blog Entry, October 28, 2007

  I’m not sure if it’s wise to indulge the whims of your youth at the ripe old age of twenty-nine. You see, this is how I ended up with an unusual tattoo in an unusual place.

  Tyler continued to read, re-experiencing their tattoo-shop adventure through Lilah’s words. He hadn’t known that she’d chosen a smiley face for her tattoo because it reminded her of the barrettes she’d worn at the ends of her braids as a child. Or that the happy face was a kind of good-luck charm in her mind because she’d felt especially confident on the days her mother put those barrettes in her hair.

  Anyway, I started out this day not wanting a tattoo. What sounds cool at sixteen can seem downright crazy at twenty-nine, right? Maybe not. Even though I was reluctant—and it hurts a lot more than they let on—now that it’s over, I’m glad I did it.

  29. Ride a motorcycle. The same questionable logic applies here. But, let’s keep it real—I almost didn’t do it.

  I was climbing on the back of one of those fancy Japanese Suzkitachithingies, and I had to ask myself…what are you thinking? You barely know this guy. Is he a safe driver? Does he practice good hygiene?

  But then I remembered that this guy actually drives his elderly mother home every nighton this bad boy…so, I had to do it. Whose pride can withstand being a bigger wimp than a seventy-year-old woman?

  We drove impossibly fast down some in credibly narrow alleys, and I just knew I would die. The ride was miserable. I didn’t enjoy it one bit…until it was over. Then, I felt exhilarated. Alive.

  This insane feeling of euphoria has to be why people jump out of airplanes (No, not doing that. Not ever). And, if I’d known I was going to survive the ride, I’m sure I would have loved it.

  Suffice it to say, riding on the back of a motorcycle is terrifying—in that roller-coaster sort of way where you scream your head off the entire time, certain of your impending death, then when it’s over you want to do it again. Immediately.

  Tyler chuckled. Reading Lilah’s blog revealed a side to her personality he couldn’t have imagined existed. He hadn’t realized that she’d been so afraid. He admired her all the more because she’d braved her fears and moved forward.

  He was used to the guarded woman who thought twice about every move she made. The woman who wrote this blog was impulsive. She was sassy. He liked the guarded Lilah, but this Lilah intrigued him.

  In person, while she readily smiled, she seemed to resist being overly…bubbly. It was almost as if she felt people wouldn’t take her seriously if she didn’t constantly project a pulled-together image.

  Tyler couldn’t resist feeling a little bit disappointed at not being mentioned in the blog. After all, he’d been around on her first two days in the city.

  He clicked on the Archives link and started reading through her previous entries. Maybe he was mentioned in one of those. Aha! While there were no deep outpourings of her feelings for him, she’d at least referred to him as a hot guy.

  While one part of him felt smug in that knowledge. Another part of him felt a bit guilty at gaining free access into Lilah’s thoughts. But it was a public forum.

  As Tyler clicked back to her home page, he saw that there was a new entry. Lilah must have been logged in at that very moment. He read through her post.

  Lilah’s List Blog Entry, October 31, 2007

  Well, troops, I’ve had to maintain blog silence over the last few days because there hasn’t been any valid List activity to report. I tried to use my stealthy undercover skills for mission directive one: Date Reggie Martin. But I’m sorry to report all attempts have crashed and burned. In the meantime, I’m going to pursue an easy target: ice skating at Rockefeller Center. I haven’t been on skates of any kind since I was a teenager, so wish me and my gluteus maximus luck. Over and out.

  Tyler found it a bit disturbing to see her infatuation with his brother in writing. He knew that her feelings were superficial, but he felt a twinge nonetheless.

  It felt like high school all over again, but now he was the one who had a crush on Lilah. Did she have any real interest in Reggie, or was this just something that carried over from high school?

  Tyler didn’t know, but he’d just been handed an opportunity to find out. If he moved quickly, he could run into her at Rockefeller Center.

  Lilah looked down at her watch and rolled her eyes. She’d only been on the ice for fifteen minutes, but it felt like an eternity. All her life she’d watched movies and television shows with romantic moments surrounding ice skating at Rockefeller Center.

  Granted, there could only be so much romance when you’re skating on your own, but this was one experience that was nowhere near as good as her fantasy.

  Lilah showed up in her hat, scarf, gloves and overcoat expecting to enjoy skating on a crisp afternoon. What she hadn’t counted on were the hordes of other tourists with the same idea.

  The tiny skating center had only one door for entry and exit and standing room only inside. It took her forever to work her way through the throng to pay for a session, then rent skates at one counter and a locker at another.

  After exchanging her oversize skates for a pair that wouldn’t slide off her feet with each step, she tramped out onto the ice and her feet immediately started hurting. And to top it all off, that particular New York afternoon was unseasonably warm and she was burning up.

  Lilah was forced to weave her way through the crowds once again just to put all of her outerwear into her locker. By the time she made it back onto the ice, she was wondering why she hadn’t just packed up and left while she’d had the chance.

  Placing one foot in front of the other, Lilah made her way around the rink. She was a decent skater. There would be no double-toe loops or triple lutzes, but she could at least make it around without falling. That is, as long
as she was able to avoid the moving torpedoes known as children. Lilah was convinced they’d knock her down the way they were recklessly weaving between skaters.

  She looked at her watch again. Barely a minute had passed since the last time she’d checked it. Her feet were throbbing, and this experience was anything but fun. Why was she persisting with this torture?

  Tyler looked down on the ice at the Rockefeller Center skating rink, searching for Lilah. It only took him a minute to spot her tiny form in a pair of blue jeans and a hot-pink sweater. She was plodding around the rink with a grim expression on her face. She looked like an old lady going twenty-five miles an hour on the freeway, shooting dirty looks at any who dared to pass her.

  He felt himself grinning as he watched her. She was all by herself and appeared to be having a miserable time. It was a good thing he’d showed up to surprise her. Hopefully she’d believe his story and he wouldn’t look like some kind of stalker.

  Tyler paused for a moment. Was he crazy? Was this how stalkers behaved? Then he shook his head. At the first sign that Lilah didn’t want him around, he’d leave her alone. But at this point, all the signs showed that she was just as attracted to him as he was to her.

  Unfortunately he knew being with him didn’t necessarily fit into her current plans. He just had to make her see that plans were meant to be changed.

  Just as she was about to head for the exit, a tall figure skated up beside her. “Lilah?”

  She turned her head but the man was already moving. He swooped in front of her and began skating backward. Lilah lifted her head and stared up into Tyler Martin’s deep brown eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” Lilah found herself smiling involuntarily.

  “Good afternoon to you, too. I had a meeting at the Rock, and I stopped by to watch the skaters. I couldn’t miss you circling the ice like an old lady. I decided to come down here and show you how it’s done.”