“I’m not going to ruin my second chance. This is a gamble for me too.” Her voice cracked.
Cameron dropped his head as if in thought. She waited pushing the food around her plate. She wasn’t a fool. She knew people didn’t get second chances often and she was tired of living closed up in her house hiding from the world. Hiding from Lady Bird’s arrogance and naiveté. Trusting the work people down the yellow-brick road led her straight to hell. And she was still trying to crawl her way back.
She’d forgiven herself and now it was time to move on, her brother had yet to steer her wrong in the past. And something told her she’d do well to gamble on RSE. And Cameron.
“Music is it for me Cameron. I’d live, eat, drink it if I could. And I want it back.” His eyes held hers. “Give me a contract and I’ll work with Bruce night and day to make this soundtrack happen.”
“Will you reconsider singing on at least Damaged?” She broke eye contact with him as mixed feeling surged through her. “Please.”
Sydney had a feeling Cameron didn’t say please often. He didn’t come across as rude or demanding but the soft plea beneath the word made her relent, a little. She nodded not sure what it would mean and if it would bring One Time out of hiding.
A relieved look washed over his face. Then Cameron stuck out his hand, “Welcome to RSE.”
Sydney’s took his outreached hand. Her much smaller hand cradled inside his and a currant sparked between them. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I hope you’re ready. Bruce may have you second guessing your decision.” He tried to ease the sexual tension, but it proved impossible. He’d spent most of the day debating his feeling for her. It was unlike any he’d felt before, not even with Gabrielle.
“Well you better have them draft the contract quick.” She laughed.
They resumed eating with the contract out of the way. They both seemed to relax and enjoy dinner.
“Would you like desert?”
She shook her head her curls bounced with each movement. “I can’t. You’ll have me rolling into the booth if I eat another bite.”
“Okay, suit yourself. I’d like a slice of tres leches cake.” Cameron paused waiting for the waiter to leave before shifting their conversation. He wanted to know more about the woman unknowingly challenging every rule and boundary he’d established for himself. “Tell me something I won’t find on the internet.”
“Let’s see.” She wiped her mouth with the napkin. “I lived in my car for almost two years.”
“When?” Her faint smile held a touch of sadness.
“You want the short or long version.”
“Long.”
“I moved from Kansas City to LA with less than two hundred dollars to my name. I had no contacts and no job.”
“How old were you?”
“Twenty one. Youth makes you feel invincible.” She shook her head at the memory. “I barely graduated high school because I spent my nights singing at any club willing to give me a shot. Then I slept through all my classes.”
“My parents would have killed me.”
“We were raising ourselves. I’d do it differently if I could. But I always knew I wanted to sing. I felt school had nothing to offer me. It was a waste of time in my book. So I made my rounds to all the clubs and talent shows until one night a manager,” she air quoted, “convinced me that LA was where I needed to be.”
“I take it he wasn’t a manager.”
“No, he was a weasel in cheap suit.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust, Cameron laughed. “But his words planted a seed in me. I knew I had no chance of getting a deal if I stayed in Kansas City. So I packed my bags, gassed up my old Toyota Corolla, and drove to California.”
“Fearless.”
“Ignorant.” Her expression was tight with strain. “I got there and the weasel was a sewer rat. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself and I couldn’t go back.”
“Did you ever hear from the weasel again?” He couldn’t imagine. He reached out lacing his fingers with hers. He’d always had his family or his friends.
“No. I had to stretch the little money I had. I found a job as a waitress as a dive bar that let me sing for tips. I used a gym membership to shower. And I slept in my car until I saved enough to rent an apartment with a co-worker.”
The waiter brought the cake and Cameron forked the moist milk cake. “Have you ever tried it?”
“No, I’m not much of a sweets person, unless it’s pancake syrup.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” He liked her animated facial expressions. “Here, try it.” He wanted to scrub her mind clear of the memory, to see her smile. He extended the fork in her direction with his eyes trained on her lips. She had that red lipstick on again and like before it caused his brain to run wild with inappropriate thoughts.
Sydney leaned forward taking the cake, the throaty groan made heat curse through his body.
“That tastes like heaven covered in whipped cream.”
Cameron noticed the a dollop of cream on the side of her mouth. He wrapped her napkin around his finger and slowly rubbed it away.
“No more cake for you.” He teased trying to calm his racing heart.
“That’s too bad, I was just about to ask for another bite.” His eyes found hers and they shone like gold. He dropped the fork as the temperature in the room increased by several degrees.
“Baby you’re playing with the wrong one.” His gruff response slipped out but he meant it. He had to invoke every life and business skill known to man to keep her at a distance. But sampling her was much more appealing, and the sensual way she just darted her tongue across her lips, had him fighting a losing battle. Because he wanted Sydney Jones.
“I’m starting to think you’re exactly the one.” A mischievous look covered her beautiful face.
Cameron, the master negotiator was at a loss for words. Change the subject or take her home. Those were the only two choices he could pluck from his scrambled thoughts. He snapped his eyes closed as a vision of her sprawled across his bed came to mind. But losing control wasn’t an option. His attempt to focus on the music with sultry Sydney near proved impossible.
“Are you going to behave Miss Jones?” His rising manhood could careless that she was an RSE artist.
“Only if you make me,” she stared with longing at him. “Which brings to mind an idea.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’m interested in getting to know you better.” She leaned forward and used his fork to pick up a morsel of cake. “Or will that violate your strict moral code of conduct?”
Cameron’s mouth watered for the sweetness headed his way. Then it hit him, like a sucker punch from Tyson, “You’re trying to seduce me Miss Jones.”
“Yes, Mr. Carter I am. That way you don’t have to decided what to do about our head-spinning attraction.”
She sat back with a pleased look on her face as the sweet cake melted on his tongue.
“What exactly are we negotiating here?” Her boldness piqued his curiosity as he consider the options. Because if his body had its way he’d break all five of the SinSation rules tonight!
“I’d like to get to know you.”
“And I’d like the same.” His response pleased her judging by the high voltage smile. “After hours.”
“Yes, sir.” she saluted.
He crooked his finger beckoning her forward. Sydney stood up smoothing her dress before walking the short distance.
His stepped forward slipping her arms around his neck. Then his hands lazily contoured her waist, hips, and settled on her bottom.
“I think we should seal this deal with a kiss,” Cameron whispered his hot breath against her ear.
His lips captured hers, and Sydney sagged into his strong arms. He moved his mouth over hers, she slipped him a little tongue. His lips warm, coaxing, and demanding as shivers of delight followed his exploring hands. He broke the kiss, but Sydney need one more taste.
She gripped
his neck and pulled him down for a repeat, and he didn’t disappoint. He adored her mouth with his tongue, setting fire to her soul. She pulled back.
Panting. Breathless. Aching.
Sydney, what have you done?
Chapter Eight
Sydney and RSE finalized her contract and tonight she’d have her first session with Bruce. Truth be told, she was nervous. Isaac came by the hotel to “help” her by telling her what to expect, but that only made it worse.
She entered the building waiving at security. “Cam wants to see you before you head back.”
“Okay, thanks.” She glanced at a her watch and turned towards his office. She tugged at her oversized t-shirt wishing she’d wore something nicer. They’d talked over the phone daily. But tonight was the first time they’d see each other since dinner a few nights ago. She knocked lightly on his door.
“Come in.” He motioned to the chair. She sat as he finished the phone call. This man works around the clock. Who takes business calls at 11:30? She noticed a wall of pictures and stood to take a better look.
She recognized a few faces. He ended the call and came up behind her wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned back.
“Is this your family?”
“Yes.” He kissed the side of her neck. “Those are my parents Michelle and Curtis Carter. You know Marques. That’s Kyle and my baby sister Lauren.”
“Your sister?” All of their faces reflected the same smile in various hues of warm brown except Lauren. Her ivory skin a direct contrast to the others.
“Yes, she’s adopted.”
“Oh, you all look happy.”
“Mom made us.” He laughed. They looked like a perfect family dressed in white shirts and denim bottoms. His parents stood in the middle beaming with pride. “That’s an old picture. Here’s the most recent one.”
He walked her over a few steps. They had the same smiling faces with a couple additions.
“That is Brione, Marques’ wife, and my angel Kayla and baby AJ.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You have a beautiful family.”
“Thank you. This is my current favorite.” He tapped the frame a few pictures over. “This is our RSE family. Bruce and his wife Sandi with their three kids. Damian and his wife Imani with their son. Marques and his family. And you’ve met the rest of the guys and Eliana. Isaac is somewhere in there too.”
“When was that picture taken?” They all wore matching RSE t-shirts.
“Last year and we’re growing. You’ll meet everyone at our annual picnic. It makes taking the picture easy.”
He grabbed her hand and walked back to the chairs in front of his desk. She glanced at his wall of memories once more.
“You ready for tonight?”
“I think so. Isaac’s pet talk fell flat.” He laughed. “I don’t know what to expect.”
“Just do what he says. And it will be a breeze.”
“Are you lying to my face, Mr. Carter.?”
His head fell back, “Okay, a little. To be the best you have to work with the best. Bruce is the best.”
She nodded. Southern Sounds didn’t have a grooming process. “Do you plan to develop all of your artists?”
He sat back with their hands intertwined. “No doubt. I took a page out of Motown’s book. Plus that’s how my father prepared us.”
“That’s right, he’s in a music group.”
“Yep, the SinSations. And they’re still going strong with all the original members except one. He passed about twelve years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks.” He stood pulling her to her feet. “We wanted to develop our artists in house. Artistry first, then profit.”
“That sounds too good to be true.”
“How so?”
“Most record labels are all about the streams and cd sales. If you don’t have a Top 10 record out the gate you get bumped.”
“I guess that is the norm.” They stepped into the hallway and he dropped her hand. She missed the warmth. “We are fortunate that we have other business ventures, together and apart. We make wise financial choices, thanks to Jamal, but we’re not pressed to turn a profit. Fortunately that hasn’t been an issue.” They stopped at the studio door. “I’ll let you go inside. I’ll come back to check on you later.”
He kissed her check and rounded the corner back to his office. Sydney glanced up to make sure the light was off and opened the door.
Bruce was sitting behind the control board. He seemed to live in that chair.
“Hey Sydney, you ready to get to work?”
“Yes.”
“Have a seat?” He pointed to the couch.
She nodded dropping her bag and sat down. They’d talked a couple times, mostly pleasantries. He seemed to balance out the rest of the guys. He had a relaxed vibe. He rarely talked and he always had a smile on his face.
“How are you? Bruce sat forward looking at her intently.
“Nervous.” She smiled.
“Don’t be. That’s why I want to talk first.” She nodded, pulling out her binder and a pen. “We have roughly four weeks to pull together a sound for the soundtrack. Which means you and I will have to pull double sessions most days to get a feel for each other.”
“What do you mean?” She leaned forward.
“I need to get to know your vibe. And you’ll learn mine. I will make suggestions to make our efforts gel but expect to have a few bumps in the road.” He paused for a moment. “Cameron will oversee our progress. And as stated in the contract, he has the final word on everything that leaves this studio.”
“Will we work on songs I have or write new material?”
“I hope both. This first week I’ll split our efforts. We’ll use one session to play with your sound and the second session towards the soundtrack.”
“Will we work with other artists?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I don’t expect you to attend all the soundtrack sessions. But your scheduled sessions are mandatory. We want to include RSE artists on the soundtrack. Plus the movie has a few singers in the cast. They’ll flew out in a couple of weeks. We’ll need to have fresh material for them to test.”
“Wow!”
“Tell me about IT. This is a lot to throw at you, but Cameron believes you can do it.”
“And what about you?”
“I’ll let you know after a few sessions. I know you’ve recorded before, but working with other artists is not the same as knowing your own voice. The more we work together the more we’ll feel each other out.”
“I understand. Is there anything you need from me?”
“Be on time. Communication is vital with such a tight timeline. Most of my artists I’ve developed for years. So, let’s agree to extend grace to each other as we find our way towards the goal.” She returned his smile. “Any questions?”
“No, not that I can think of.”
“Cool. Expect to run from midnight to seven. We usually order food and break around three or so. The first half we’ll dedicate to your work. The second half will go toward the soundtrack. And it’s not set in stone but it gives a basic roadmap.”
“I guess it’s time to get to work.”
“You got it. For tonight I’ve pulled a few of your previous songs. We’ll play around with them. I want us to work on remixes. The goal is to identify your sound. We’ll start with Ashes.”
Sydney balance on the end of the couch. This was like a boot camp. She’d gone from playing around in her garden to working in a music studio.
“Grab a chair at the board.” She followed his lead. “Did you write this song?”
“Yes. Years ago. But it’s one of my favorites.”
“Good…good.” He clicked around on the board and the song played through the speakers. “Is this the sound you want to develop? A soulful-pop sound.”
“Yes and no. I want to keep the soul but drop the pop.” She smiled as he bobbed his head to the song. “For
example, originally I wrote the hook to go like this.”
Sydney leaned forward so Bruce could hear her over the music, singing the original melody. The label felt it wouldn’t crossover.
“I like that.” He paused the music. She eyed the keyboard across the room. “Do you play?”
“Yes.”
“Word?” A twinkle danced in his eyes. “Well, then step right up.”
Sydney felt like a kid. Her and Bruce bounced around the studio from instrument to instrument. She rewrote the bridge and he revamped the beat.
“Now for the fun part,” Bruce whispered. He clicked around on a computer then rolled in his chair back to the board. “It’s time to jump in the booth.”
She stood up with the lyrics in hand.
“I know you know the words. But I need you to follow my lead. When you get to this part,” he mumbled the words leading to the bridge, “try it like this.” Bruce opened his mouth and her mouth hit the floor.
“You sound amazing.”
“No ma’am. I can hold a note on a good day. Most I’m a sloppy substitute.” He chuckled. “Go inside and grab the headset. And keep your eyes on me for this first cut.”
Back in the booth. She went inside and grabbed the headset, settling it over her ears. Bruce threw up a thumb for the sound level. She used her finger to point up to increase the sound until it was just right. Throwing up an “okay” sign she placed the lyrics on the stand.
She wrote Ashes before life caught up to her. The words took on a new meaning. Ashes remained after the original matter burned, no longer what it was. Something new, void of color, now a remnant. The analogy mirrored her life and career. She could point the finger at her management, her label, the doctors giving out pills like candy. But the second step to her recovery had been taking responsibility for her action. Her first step was deciding to choose her life over everything.
Money, fame, and her contract be damned. She gambled with the devil and lost. And her once precious career burnt to a crisp. A fleeting depiction of something that meant so much. And standing in the RSE booth she felt Bruce’s excitement, Isaac’s encouragement, and….
Rockstar Sinners (Forbidden Chords Book 2) Page 6