Sienna’s expression remained amused, but Toby sensed the discomfort radiating from her as she picked over a slice of coconut cake. Her uneasiness created a similar reaction in Toby. He was a little wounded by her lukewarm response to Alex’s suggestion that she and Toby finally seek a more romantic involvement.
“I have to go to the worksite,” Alex said, rising from the table. “Jasmine’s in the living room watching the Disney Channel. Can you make sure she changes out of her church dress? She’d sleep in that thing if I let her.”
“I’ll handle it,” Mama answered.
Alex filled a plastic container with eggplant and shrimp casserole and grabbed a can of soda out of the refrigerator. “See y’all later,” he said, bending over to give both Mama and Sienna parting kisses.
He reached his hand out to him and Toby grabbed it, pulling his brother in close. “Don’t think I don’t know what you were doing,” Toby whispered in his ear.
When Alex stepped back from the hug, his eyes held a teasing gleam. “I’m just trying to help you out.”
“I can do without your kind of help,” Toby answered, walking his brother to the door. When he turned back to the kitchen, Sienna was rising from the table.
“I need to head out, too,” she said. “Things really start hopping this week, so I want to get my house cleaned today so I don’t have to worry about it.”
“Smart thinking, honey,” Mama said.
Sienna pressed a kiss to her cheek. “The cake was delicious. If I hadn’t missed my workout the past two mornings I would take a piece with me.”
“As if you need to work out,” Mama answered. “Well, let me see if I can tear my granddaughter away from the television long enough to pry that dress off of her,” Mama said and headed for the living room.
“Everything set for this week?” Toby asked when they were alone.
“I’ve got meetings with six potential sponsors over the next four days, and I plan to put on my game face.”
“Sounds as if you have everything you need. I don’t know anyone who can resist that face,” he said, brushing away a wayward curl from her jaw.
Toby knew he was treading in dangerous waters even before the words left his mouth, but an overwhelming compulsion to test this delicate situation forced him to say them anyway. He saw the flash of bewilderment in her eyes as she lifted her purse from where she’d hung it on the chair.
“Uh…well, I need to be going,” she said again.
“Good luck,” Toby offered. “Call my cell if you need anything.”
She stared back at him, her hand resting on the jamb of the partially opened screen door. A powerful sense of awareness permeated the air between them.
“I will,” she finally answered.
For long moments after she’d left, Toby stood in the middle of his mother’s kitchen, wondering just what he was going to do about Sienna.
Chapter Ten
Sienna plopped behind the wheel of her car and heaved an exhausted sigh. This had to rate as one of the longest days of her life, but she was three for three in landing spots at the city’s premier clubs, which made the ache in her neck and the developing blister on her left heel well worth the trouble.
Thank goodness she had a knack for persuading people to see things her way. Sienna was infinitely proud that she’d been able to land a performance at Caesar’s Ghost. The final club on today’s agenda had been the toughest sale, but crucial if they were going to make any headway in crossing over to the young, Caucasian market. It took some fancy talking to convince the club’s management that the college-aged patrons Caesar’s Ghost catered to would accept an R&B singer, but Sienna had done it.
Now, it was up to Toby and Aria to come up with an arrangement of songs that would live up to the promises she’d just made to the club owners.
Sienna parked across the street from the nondescript brick-front building, unsure if Toby had given her the correct address Saturday night.
Saturday night.
She’d told herself she would not think about that again today, but for the past five days she’d had a hard time thinking of anything else. Ever since Toby returned to New Orleans, Sienna had tried to convince herself that these lingering feelings meant nothing. He was a high school crush, nothing more. Well, except she’d wanted him in college, too. And in grad school. And last week.
Being in such close proximity to Toby had her brain more scrambled than eggs on a breakfast buffet. Several years of separation and instead of letting up, the feelings were even stronger, and they definitely did not equate to a high school crush anymore. Her thoughts about Toby these days were very much those of a grown, sexually-conscious woman.
But what about his feelings?
Sienna would be the first to admit that in the reading men department, she was probably a two on a scale of one to one hundred, but even she knew desire when it was staring her in the face. For a few moments Saturday night, Toby’s eyes had held desire.
Sienna got out of the car and made her way across the street. She looked down at the yellow Post-it note in her hand and back up at the numbers etched into the small window on the door. This was the place.
When she’d called yesterday to relay the news about the newest sponsor to sign on, Toby had suggested she drop in on Aria’s session at the recording studio. Sienna had expected something a little more glamorous than this plain, single story structure. The lobby was as unassuming as the outside of the building, with a tweed-covered loveseat that was probably older than she was, and a potted plant in dire need of water and Miracle Gro. Sienna walked down the short hallway and entered the open door of a darkened studio. Toby and two men she didn’t recognize sat at a large counter that was completely covered with what seemed to be every type of electronic equipment known to man. All three sported large headphones over their ears.
Aria stood behind a plate-glass window, wearing her own pair of headphones and singing sweetly into a microphone that was suspended from the ceiling. Sienna had to admit Aria Jordan had one of the most amazing voices she’d ever heard.
She vowed to make more of an effort of accepting Aria. But regardless of her attempts at civility, Sienna just could not refrain from those twinges of envy that pulled at her. Aria was such a girly girl. And she was, well, not.
“Hey, Cee Cee,” Toby called, removing his headphones. Sienna didn’t bother reminding him that she did not want him using that nickname. “It’s about time you made it.”
“What do you mean, it’s about time? Do you know all the ripping and running I’ve done today?”
“Take a chill pill, girl. I was only playing with you.” Toby got up from his seat at the console. “Give me a minute and then we can talk about what you were able to line up.” He went into the room with Aria and Sienna watched as the two discussed whatever artists and their producers discuss while working on an album.
It was interesting seeing Toby in his new career. Since the first time he saw Michael Jordan as a North Carolina Tar heel, Toby had vowed he would play college and professional basketball. Believing her best friend could capture the moon in the palm of his hand if he tried hard enough, Sienna had never doubted Toby would not see his dreams through to fruition.
No one had expected a driver asleep at the wheel of a SUV would crush Toby’s aspirations so soundly.
The day Eli had told her of Toby’s accident was a crystal clear memory. Sienna had come home for a weekend visit during her junior year in college. Eli had caught her at her mother’s just as she was leaving out for the eight-hour drive back to Atlanta. He broke the news about the accident, and told her that he, his mother, and Alex were heading for the airport so they could fly to the D.C. hospital where Toby lay in a coma.
Even now, Sienna could feel that tightness in her chest, the overwhelming sense of nausea and fear when Eli had said, “they’re not sure he’s going to make it.”
She’d wanted to curse whoever they were. The faceless they who’d dared to discount the c
ourage and fight that raced through every single drop of Toby’s blood. Days after the accident, she’d flown to Washington, D.C. to be at Toby’s side. As she’d held his hand, Sienna had had no doubt he would make it. Not only that, she knew he would one day play professional basketball.
But that never happened. No NBA team was willing to bank on a player who was one hard foul away from being crippled for life.
He was forced to give up on one dream, but true to his nature, Toby just found another. It made Sienna even more determined to make Aria a success. Well, that and the fact that her own career was on the line. She had some pretty big dreams of her own, and not a moment passed that Sienna was not aware of what this account meant for her future.
Toby came out of the room and went over to the console. “Savion, why don’t we try Only Today?” he asked the guy sitting behind the big desk with about a thousand levers and buttons.
Toby turned to Sienna. “Let’s get some coffee.”
Sienna followed him out of the recording studio to a coffeehouse on the corner of the next block. She ordered a mocha with extra whipped cream—it had been a long day—and a chocolate chip scone. It had been a really long day.
She took a seat at the counter that ran the length of the floor to ceiling windows and looked out at the people moving effortlessly about their business.
New Orleans was an easygoing town. It was a blessing to see the city gradually returning to its former glory after the devastation Hurricane Katrina had inflicted. Things were slowly turning around. And, true to its name, the Big Easy inspired even the most dedicated Type A personality to just chill out. Sienna needed to take that advice.
“Tell me you were able to get Caesar’s Ghost,” Toby said, taking the stool next to her.
“Two weeks from tonight.”
“Yes.” Toby slapped the counter and pumped his fist in the air. “You are the bomb, Cee Cee. Would it be wrong to say that I’m happy Jamie Kurshon had that heart attack?”
“Yes, it would,” Sienna answered, sipping the hot beverage.
“I know. I just never thought I’d feel lucky that you ended up with this account.”
“Sounds as if you doubted I could do a good job,” Sienna replied. To her surprise he didn’t deny it.
“Actually, I did,” Toby admitted.
The level of hurt his statement caused her was painful enough to strike a physical ache in Sienna’s chest.
“Wait. Let me clarify that.” Toby took a sip from his iced tea then put the cup on the counter. “It’s not that I doubted your professionalism, or your intelligence. But I knew you were just starting out, Cee Cee. This show means everything to my career.”
“Mine, too,” she managed to choke out past the mixture of hurt and anger. “If you were not sure about my handling the account, why didn’t you say anything when Allen first suggested it?”
“To be honest, I was so surprised when you walked into that room, I didn’t know what to think.” He shrugged. “Maybe my not saying anything was God’s way of looking out for me. At least that’s what Mama would say.”
No one ever accused Margo Holmes of being a fool. Although her son could be a complete jackass.
“Still in all,” Toby continued, “I’m proud of you, as condescending as that sounds.”
“Very condescending,” Sienna returned. “I know how important this is to you, Toby. Just like I know how important every account is to every single client I’ve ever worked with at MDF.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“If my boss had enough faith to recommend me for this account then you should have had enough faith in me, too. And not just because I’ve always had your back.”
“I never said I didn’t have faith in you.”
“That’s exactly what you said.” Sienna realized her voice had risen high enough to cause the heads of several coffeehouse patrons to turn, but dammit, she had a right to be upset.
She was the one who’d stuck around with Toby for hours while he practiced free throws and raised his percentage from forty-two to seventy during his sophomore year of high school. She was the one who had tutored him in Literature, dissecting Beowulf and The Iliad, and all those other epic stories she had not been assigned but had read anyway, for him. She’d been there for Toby because that’s what best friends did for each other. Yet, when it was his turn to be there for her, he’d doubted her.
“Would you stop blowing things out of proportion and let me finish?” Toby pleaded. “You never change, you know that?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” If she were not holding her coffee cup, both fists would be firmly planted on her hips. Sienna settled for one.
“You always make a bigger deal out of everything than you should.”
“When have I ever?”
Cutting her off, he counted instances on his fingers. “The St. Aug/ Warren Easton basketball game. Mardi Gras, 1994. Your junior prom.”
“I did not make a big deal out of prom.”
“You didn’t talk to me for a month.”
Incredulity made her voice spike. “You sent a pity date to pick me up!”
His eyes widened, an affronted frown creasing his forehead. “I was trying to help.”
“I never asked for your help,” Sienna argued. “I had a date.”
“Who bailed on you. I may have talked to Jamal Sanders about going out with you, but if you want to know the truth, I didn’t have to do all that much talking. He was more than happy to go. But did I get a thank you? No. I got a black eye and had to wear sunglasses like I was trying to impersonate Ray Charles.”
“And the entire neighborhood took it as some new fashion statement. Everyone under the age of fifteen started wearing sunglasses at all times of the day and night.”
“That’s not the point.” Toby took the cup from her hand, grabbed her other hand from where it was still propped against her hip, and clasped both between his palms. “All I was trying to say is that even though I had a sliver—a teeny, tiny, insignificant sliver—of doubt, it took very little time to see that you are on top of your game. I cannot imagine anyone pounding the pavement the way you have. Talking to club owners, booking spots? You’ve risen above my expectations, Cee Cee. Sienna,” he amended. “I couldn’t have asked for a better marketing exec.”
So maybe her reaction to his comment had been a little unreasonable. And maybe if she had given him a chance to finish his statement, half the people in the coffeehouse wouldn’t be looking over the edges of their paperbacks or outright staring at them as if they were today’s live entertainment.
Sienna tried to think back. Did she only fly off the handle with Toby?
Nope. There were several incidents with her mother she could recall. Then there was that horrid display a couple of Easters ago when she thought Tosha was criticizing her Sunday dress, only to discover that her sister wanted to borrow it instead. She did blow things out of proportion. Yet another character flaw she needed to work on.
Trying to figure out how best not to choke on her words, Sienna took a sip of coffee and said, “I’m sorry.”
Toby’s head reared back, genuine disbelief washed across his face. “What?”
“Don’t make me say it again,” she grounded out through clinched teeth.
“I’m about to mark the date. In all the years I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve ever heard those two words come out of your mouth.”
“You are really pushing it,” Sienna warned.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. See, it’s not hard for me to say.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Finished already?” Toby asked.
It took Sienna a few seconds to realize he was talking to someone behind her. She turned to find the guy from the recording studio walking up to where they were sitting. Aria was in line for coffee.
“We needed a break,” the guy said. His hair was done in long, thick dreadlocks bound by a ponytail holder at the base of his head.
“H
ey, you two haven’t met. Sienna.” Toby turned to her. “This is Savion. He’s the engineer who’s been helping arrange Aria’s album.”
Extending her hand, Sienna said, “Pleasure to meet you.”
“My man here says you’re gonna put Aria on the map.”
Sienna shrugged. “That’s my job.”
“Sounds like one big happy family. Aria’s got the vocals. Toby does the writing. I provide the beats. And you bring it to the masses.”
“Yeah, well, it’s costing me a couple of hundred to rent out the studio for this session, so the two of you had better head back. We’ll be there in a minute.”
“Alright, man. She’s hitting the notes. You need to come and check it out.”
“In a minute,” Toby said.
Sienna waited for Savion to leave, then she tapped Toby on the forearm. “So, when did you start writing music?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “A few years ago.”
The past few weeks was the first she’d heard of it. Sienna swallowed the hurt evoked by the knowledge that he’d kept such an important part of himself from her.
She asked, “Where does it come from?”
“What do you mean?”
Sienna glowered at his obtuseness. “People don’t just write music to write it, Toby. It has to come from somewhere.” She watched a mother pushing a covered stroller just outside the coffee shop window, then looked back at Toby. In a soft voice, she asked, “Was it because of the accident? Was it your way of coping?”
“Don’t start trying to psychoanalyze me,” he said, and began to rise, but Sienna stopped him again with a hand on his arm.
“We’ve never really talked about it, Toby.”
He settled back on the stool. With a shrug he said, “Why should we?”
“Because it’s an important part of your life,” Sienna pointed out. “At one time we used to talk about stuff like this.”
“It’s a part of my life that’s over. I don’t want to relive it, and I sure as hell don’t feel like talking about it in the middle of a damn coffee shop.”
Release Me Page 13