What the Heart Wants ; Sealed with a Kiss

by Donna Hill

  Tyson looked at his team. Each agreed through nods and shrugs. “We can do that.”

  “Great! I’m glad this worked out.”

  “Me too.” Tyson responded to Randi but directed his gaze at Kendall. He smiled. She shifted a little, hoping it wasn’t enough for him to notice.

  Kendall wasn’t uncomfortable under his gaze. Not at all. His eyes were too dreamy for her to be uncomfortable. In fact, something in her core had shivered when she’d looked back into those gorgeous brown eyes of his. But Kendall was serious about being all business in the presence of Tyson Blackwell. She had enough media drama with Storm. Her next relationship, whenever that happened, would be with someone outside of the industry, someone who wasn’t a spotlight magnet. Besides, Tyson had been a known ladies’ man before dating Tiffany, with a litany of A-list celebrities on his arm, and now the media was speculating that foul play on his behalf had caused their breakup. They were the topic of every blogger’s conversation of late. Tyson and Tiffany’s newly publicized relationship status had placed her own scandal on the back burner, making her and Storm old news. She was almost grateful, and certainly wasn’t looking forward to gaining that spotlight back.

  They discussed a few more details that would be part of the revised contract and then ended the meeting. On the way out, Tyson reached forward to shake Kendall’s hand. “Again, my apologies for the delay. We look forward to working with you.”

  Kendall shook Tyson’s large masculine hand, taking note again of how soft it felt. Just the way Kendall liked her men’s hands. Quietly, she admonished herself for that thought.

  “Thank you.” She wanted to say more, wanted to tell him that she intended to keep her interactions strictly business. Wanted to let him know she was a professional. That his dreamy eyelashes that spread like a fan, full lips, toned body and deep sultry voice would have no effect on her...because she was focused on her career and her career only.

  Kendall pulled her hand from his a little too quickly and turned on her heels. “Good day,” she said and headed for the exit, not stopping until she hit the elevator, leaving Randi in her wake.

  Chapter 8

  While everyone fanned out of the conference room at the end of the meeting, Tyson stood, puzzled, pondering Kendall’s exit and wondering what had just happened. He’d apologized multiple times for being late for the meeting. She seemed fine after he’d told her and her agent about adding Kendall to the tribute.

  Kendall’s actions demonstrated exactly why Tyson was done with actresses. He understood her initial irritation but didn’t get her behavior before her abrupt exit. Women were already complex puzzles. Actresses raised that complexity to extreme levels.

  Tyson wasn’t one to buy into rumors. He knew how Hollywood worked. Swelled egos were easily bruised. If something didn’t go someone’s way, they were ready to label you. Women were tagged as divas. Sometimes it was true; many times, it wasn’t. Tyson always gave people the benefit of the doubt, let them prove their own character. He wasn’t sure what the deal was with Kendall. She wasn’t the same woman he’d seen at the audition the week before. Regardless of that, she was talented, and that’s why he wanted her added to the tribute. The award show was his project. He wanted this year to be epic, and Kendall fit the vision he had in mind.

  The latter part of his day was better than the earlier part. The employee that had taken ill and caused him to be late to the meeting with Kendall was recovering in the hospital. That scare shook the entire office, but he saw no need to share that with Kendall. It was company business. Even the emails from various media outlets didn’t bother him. He delved into his work, enjoyed a dinner meeting about a new project idea and made it home through the throngs of paparazzi at a decent hour. His main distractions were recurring thoughts of Kendall that kept sneaking up unexpectedly.

  Kendall had popped into his mind while he deleted interview requests via email. Her face had flashed across his mind’s eye as he prepped for his dinner meeting and once again as he settled into the quiet of his spacious home. Tyson shook his head and made his way to the wine cellar in search of a great red to usher him off to sleep.

  Why was her image haunting him? She was beautiful and sang like the gift of song was solely designed for her. Such power emanated from her small frame. But he was in the entertainment business in LA. Beautiful women were as common as coffeehouses and yoga studios. What was it about Kendall that kept pulling his mind toward her? He couldn’t be attracted to her. She was an actress and potentially a diva. He’d had enough of those.

  Tyson poured a glass of wine, plopped on the sofa in the family room and pointed the remote to the seventy-inch television above the fireplace. He settled into the cushions, letting the weight of the day seep out of him and into the softness. That same heaviness pulled on his eyelids. Tyson flipped through channels, not paying enough attention to any show in particular. The remote grew slack in his hand. He pointed it at the television again, repeated his search and settled on an old rerun of a sitcom that had been resurrected in syndication heaven. Tyson blinked and realized he’d missed a few seconds of the show, possibly even a few minutes.

  Adjusting himself on the couch, Tyson placed his wineglass on the ottoman in front of him and sat back. The cushions seemed to embrace him and he let the full weight of his fatigue go.

  Kendall stepped into the room, dressed in all white, with soft lighting illuminating her frame. Tyson squeezed his eyes shut. What was she doing there? How’d she get in?

  A sexy smile played on her lips. One perfect foot crossed in front of the other in the fashion of a runway model. She sauntered toward him, her gaze fastened to his. Tyson sat up straight, seemingly held in a trance by her beauty. She drew closer as if she were floating. Tyson held his hand out and she disappeared.

  What? He shook his head and suddenly felt as if he were falling.

  Kendall’s abrupt disappearance jolted him from the dream. Grabbing handfuls of the couch cushion, Tyson steadied himself and sat up. He blinked, looked around and blinked again. The television was still going. His glass of wine, half-full, still sat on the coffee table and he was alone. He didn’t know how long he had slept, but the image of Kendall’s sexy approach made him want to go back to whatever realm of sleep she showed up in.

  Laughing at himself, Tyson stood, took his glass to the kitchen and headed to his bedroom. Kendall was off-limits, no matter what his unconscious mind drummed up. No more actresses. No more entertainers—especially ones whom he’d have to work closely with over the next few weeks, or ones who acted like divas—and especially no more blog magnets. He was getting to the point where being the focus of every blog was no longer fun.

  Yes. Tyson was done with women like Kendall. They were all the same. Weren’t they?

  Chapter 9

  This first rehearsal had Kendall in awe. Entertainers that she’d followed since she was a little girl were alongside her singing Carolyn Johnson’s iconic songs. She’d met a few of the other singers and tried her best to contain the fangirl inside of her while they worked. Kendall was one of the three younger or newer entertainers. To her surprise, the atmosphere wasn’t ripe with arrogance, competitive tension or entitled attitudes. Everyone was friendly.

  “Okay! From the top.” The choreographer snapped his fingers.

  The fellow singers moved to the sides of the stage, remaining out of sight until their cues. The music started and a new soul artist with a voice full of old soul, who had just taken the charts by storm, came out first, belting out one of Carolyn’s old sultry songs. Kendall closed her eyes, allowing the girl’s voice to flow through her. She swayed to the music. Katia held the last note of the first verse until the next artist, Crisis, joined her.

  Crisis was a multiplatinum, multigenre singer and rapper who surprised her with his soulful rendition of Carolyn’s next verse. Kendall’s eyes popped open to make sure it was him singing. He didn�
�t sound like that on his R & B records. The two of them sung the last verse as a duet with everyone cheering them on. Their last note was a high one that reached the rafters and caused applause to erupt from the others.

  Katia and Crisis’s bow was Kendall’s cue to move to center stage. They stepped back as she entered, starting with a low, sexy crooning of one of Carolyn’s most popular songs about love and heartbreak. Kendall felt as if Carolyn moved through her, egging her on. She relaxed her shoulders and allowed herself to fall into the rhythm until she felt it all over her body. She ended her part with a long note that moved up several octaves. More applause, a few hoots and shouts of “go girl” rang out from the sidelines. The choreographer barked instructions throughout, clapping his hands and snapping his fingers. He moved swiftly, like lightning. One moment he was next to her, moving her toward the x that she was supposed to use as her marker, and the next, he was downstage, waving his hand at the singer who was supposed to come up next.

  Each singer put their own stamp on Carolyn’s songs without departing from the sultry jazzy essence that she was known for. For the last number they all moved center stage, forming an arc, and riffed together, connecting their voices like a rhythmic puzzle. The performance was intoxicating. The last note left them all huffing, but also laughing, feeling good and nostalgic.

  “Great! Now let’s do this one more time but save your voices. That was beautiful, but this time I need you to focus on where you’re supposed to end up on stage. Please pay close attention.” With that, the choreographer took each one of them by the hand and marked where they were supposed to stand before, during and after their part. “Okay, take a break.”

  “Thank you!” Kendall trotted down the steps in search of her purse. She drank a few sips of water and headed for the restrooms.

  Pushing her way out of the theater, she ran straight into the taut chest of Tyson Blackwell. She nearly bounced off his firm torso. Tyson caught her by both arms, helping to straighten her up on her two feet. A tickling squirm squiggled through her. Kendall straightened her back and stood rigid.

  “Hello,” she said after clearing her throat. The coolness of her tone defied the heat that shot through her when her body connected with his.

  “Hi.”

  For several seconds, both remained quiet. Kendall allowed him to lock gazes with her for just a moment before averting her eyes.

  “Uh. Bathroom?” She pointed her finger from one side to the other as if she needed to be told the direction.

  “Yes. That way.” Tyson pointed to her right.

  His voice... “Thanks,” Kendall said, then turned on her heels and headed off quickly. Inside the bathroom, she checked to confirm that she was alone. Kendall looked in the mirror, rolled her eyes upward and shook her head. There was something about that man. Kendall hoped he didn’t plan to frequent their rehearsals, because he proved to be a delicious distraction. He was off-limits but that didn’t mean she’d lost her senses. She wasn’t blind and her nose worked well enough to take in the musky scent of his cologne that now lingered on her chest after running into him.

  Kendall remembered how annoyed she had felt when he’d left her waiting at their last meeting. Yes. That would be her strategy. Every time she felt affected by how incredibly attractive he was, she’d remind herself of how disrespectful he had been in keeping her waiting. She’d give him attitude. It seemed childish, but it was the most mature thought she could conjure up because being around him made her feel like a teenager again.

  “All business!” Kendall admonished herself. “No more drama for me.” She looked in the mirror and told her reflection, “It’s not worth it.” Kendall handled her business in the bathroom and returned to the mirror. Despite not being interested in Tyson, she checked her hair, putting a few strands back into their place before heading back to the theater. Part of her hoped Tyson was gone, and another part wished he was still there.

  When she got back inside, Tyson was off to the side of the stage chatting with the choreographer. Several singers were scattered across the theater with cell phones pressed to their ears.

  “Okay, people, we need to make a few minor changes. Back on stage, please!”

  Everyone made their way back to the stage to receive new instructions and rehearse one last time. Instead of leaving, Tyson sat in the center of the front row. A nervous burst of air blossomed in Kendall’s chest. What was that? Since her first few months of performing, she almost never got nervous. Kendall took her place and couldn’t help but steal glances from her spot offstage.

  The dim lighting in the audience contrasting the bright lights from the stage cast angles across Tyson’s face, highlighting his stellar cheekbones and strong jaw. Kendall allowed herself to stare, to take him in from the shadows where she couldn’t be detected. She couldn’t do this from across the conference table.

  She let her gaze linger until she found him staring back at her through the contrasting shadows. He smiled, and something fluttered in her stomach.

  Kendall turned away. She was ready to sing.

  Chapter 10

  Tyson hadn’t missed Kendall’s glances because he’d been discreetly watching her eyes from the moment she’d reentered the theater. He couldn’t help it. Sleep hadn’t come easy the night before, and Kendall was part of the reason why, but when they’d collided at the door and her body met his, it was like a shot of espresso. She’d energized him with her touch.

  No woman had ever affected him this way before, and he hardly knew her. All he knew was the woman the media and blogs talked about, the singer who had recently begun to top the charts and take the world by storm with a voice that could do unimaginable things. Her quality and range were the talk of the industry. When he’d heard her live during the movie audition, he knew he had to have her in the awards show. Her quality was authentic, not created in a music studio. But he quickly found that having her around was dangerous. She represented everything he wanted to stay away from, yet something magnetic compelled him to her, into his thoughts and even his dreams.

  Tyson finished up early at the office so he could catch part of the rehearsal. He wanted to hear her sing. He needed to hear her voice again.

  Kendall’s stare set his body temperature on high. He felt her looking without having to turn and meet her eyes. In fact, he purposely didn’t turn in her direction, and when he finally did, he smiled—a smile that let her know that he knew she was watching. She turned away. That made him chuckle. The least he could do was have some fun.

  Antoine clapped his hands. “Okay, people. Let’s make this the last one.” He lifted his lithe arm high and slashed his index finger through the air. Music flowed through the theater. R & B artist Katia came out first, sounding like a jazzy angel. Moments later, singer and rapper Crisis joined her. His deep, soulful voice reminded Tyson of the songs his parents listened to. Closing his eyes, Tyson bobbed his head to the rhythm. The duet faded, the music flowed behind them and shifted, and so did something in Tyson.

  He felt Kendall even before she hit the stage, felt her voice flow through him before she sung her first note. His eyes snapped open. Kendall was center stage holding the most beautiful note that ever graced his hearing. His presence in the theater felt surreal. Tyson felt as if he could float from his chair and be carried away on the melody Kendall sang. Her voice flowed through him, claimed him, held him captive. It pinned him to his seat, cajoled him, charmed him. Tyson couldn’t take his eyes off her until she had sung her last note. What beautiful sound emanated from her small frame? It was even better than what he’d heard at the audition. Air swirled in his chest, and he felt like a teen crushing on a schoolgirl. Suddenly he was aware of how compelling her singing was, as if it could take him over, seize him like hypnosis.

  Tyson stood and exited the theater through the back to avoid running into any paparazzi. He had to extract himself from the charming web she was slowly wrapping aro
und him with her singing. He didn’t stop until he was inside his luxury sports car. Turning the key in the ignition, he started the car but sat back without shifting gears. What had just happened? Had he stayed, he felt like he could have lost control. Tiffany was stunning, yet he never felt like a spell was being cast over him when he was with her. This wasn’t lust. Tyson had long since learned to control his urges. In Hollywood he had to. He certainly didn’t want to appear disrespectful to women.

  This was something different. Something that, despite the fact that Kendall represented everything he wanted to avoid, he felt the strongest desire to explore. What if she was a spoiled, entitled diva? What about the annoying media? What about his father’s pleas for Tyson to represent the company appropriately now that he was going to be CEO? He had to honor his father’s wishes. They planned to announce the transition the night of the awards show, making Tyson the youngest CEO of any major media conglomerate. Tyson needed press that would help build his image as a respectable businessman, not scandalous gossip that made him seem like nothing more than a frivolous player.

  There was more at stake. Tiffany was already putting his efforts to task. Could he stand more scandal? Because an affair with Kendall would lead to just that. The media would have a field day. People would assume she got the movie role and the tribute due to their affair. It would probably also fuel the stupid rumors that he’d been cheating on Tiffany, which supposedly caused the breakup.

  No. Tyson needed to lie low. He recalled some of Tiffany’s behavior and decided it probably wasn’t worth it. Just more of the same of exactly what he didn’t need in his life. Kendall was a blog magnet too.

  Tyson’s phone rang. He answered without bothering to see who was calling.

  “Tyson. Uh...where are you? Listen.”

  Tyson sighed. Whenever Tiffany started a conversation with “listen,” things never turned out well.