Читать книгу Sing Your Pleasure - A.C. Arthur - Страница 12

“So how’s it going?” Rachel asked the moment Charlene answered her cell phone at a little after ten the next morning.

“It’s going,” she replied, falling back onto the bed. She’d already showered and was dressed. They were starting at ten-thirty this morning and every other morning unless Akil said otherwise, that’s what Jason had told her yesterday. She’d had another restless night, unable to get the contrary man and his beguiling eyes out of her mind. But with the rising of the sun she’d tried to shield herself from that negativity, embracing the new day ahead. Hopefully it would work.

“Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

Rachel knew her too well, just as well as Candis did, and that was too well for both of them, Charlene thought suddenly.

“What’s going on? You don’t like the songs? You know, if you call Sofia she can pull some strings, maybe get you another producer or something.”

“No, it’s not that. I just mean that we got right down to business. Akil’s every bit as focused as we’d heard. I got a firsthand look at how much of a perfectionist he really is.”

“Again, that doesn’t sound good. You don’t like him?”

Afraid that the answer to that question was the real problem, Charlene closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I didn’t say that. He’s just different.”

“Okay,” Rachel said, exaggerating the word. “So he’s different from all the other superproducers who wanted to work with you on your debut CD?”

“No. I didn’t say it like that. You know I’m grateful for this opportunity. Hell, I wouldn’t even be in this position without your pushing me up onto that stage.”

Rachel chuckled. “Now why doesn’t that sound grateful to me?”

“I am grateful, really. Jeez, you and Candis are really ganging up on me this week.”

“You talked to Candis? Where is she this week?”

“Paris.”

“Lucky girl.”

“You’re sort of lucky yourself with that hunky actor you’ve got feelin’ you,” Charlene countered.

“I so do not want to talk about Ethan right now. This call is about you and how you’re making out. I think I might need to fly out there.”

Charlene was shaking her head as she sat straight up on the bed. She knew that Rachel was in Hollywood on the set of Paging the Doctor, where she was makeup artist and wardrobe designer. The show was in its final weeks of taping for the season but Rachel had already taken a two-week hiatus when the story of her affair with Ethan Chambers had hit the press. She was almost positive her friend couldn’t just hop on a plane and come to Miami. But that wasn’t saying much. When Rachel put her mind to doing something there was usually no stopping her.

“You definitely do not need to do that. I’m fine. The situation is fine. I don’t need you or Sofia getting involved.”

“Good, because Sofia’s got enough on her plate. I swear, if that girl doesn’t slow down and start to enjoy life I don’t know what’s going to happen to her.”

Sofia was Rachel’s older sister and Charlene’s agent. She’d known Sofia for as long as she’d known Rachel, but since Sofia was older by nine years they’d rarely hung out together. But the moment Rachel heard of Jason’s interest she’d volunteered Sofia as her agent. Sofia hadn’t minded at all; she loved her job as an entertainment agent and was waiting for the day she could take full charge of Limelight Entertainment. At the moment she was second in charge to Jacob Wellesley, the uncle that raised her and Sofia after their parents’ untimely deaths.

“She’s still working twenty-five hours a day, eight days a week.” That was a joke between her and Rachel. Sofia worked so much they’d started to believe that there were extra hours and days created just for her hectic schedule.

“Is she? I’m almost ready to run in that house and tie her to the bed for a full month.”

They both chuckled but Charlene could hear the concern in Rachel’s voice. She knew her friend was really worried about her sister. For that matter, so was she. Besides being her agent, Sofia was just like family to Charlene. “Let’s pray she comes to her senses soon. I definitely don’t want to see you and her going at it as you try to tie her down.”

“You know you’re coming along for backup so don’t even try to get out of it.”

Again Charlene found herself laughing, which was a good thing. She needed to be in as positive a mood as possible to deal with Akil today. Oh, dang it, Akil!

“Girl, I am so late. I’ve gotta get going. Akil’s going to have a fit.”

“Damn, he’s clocking you?”

“Not like that. You know this is a job. I was supposed to be in the studio at ten-thirty. Talking to you, it’s now ten minutes to eleven.”

Rachel was laughing. “Okay, go on. But I really don’t think he’s going to dock your pay.”

“It’s about professionalism, Rachel.”

“Girl, you don’t have to tell me. You know I live by those same rules. Tell Akil it was my fault and apologize profusely on my behalf. If that doesn’t work then maybe I really will have to fly out there.”

“No, you stay right where you are. I’ll handle Mr. Akil just fine on my own.”

Clicking off the call and tossing the phone on the bed, Charlene made a hasty retreat out of the room hoping she really could handle Akil, the superproducer with his manic mood swings, on her own.

“Do you need a personal wake-up call, Ms. Quinn?” was the first thing Akil said to her.

A hot retort simmered at the back of her throat just itching to be released. However, she was late. And she’d anticipated his reaction all the way down the steps and the long foyer that took her to the west end of the house where the studio was located. He had reason to be angry, she knew, so she’d suck up her own attitude at his tart words and take it. “I apologize. I was on a call and—”

He held up a hand to halt her words. “You will learn in this industry that time is money. And it’s usually somebody else’s money. So make this the last late appearance and we’ll remain on a good note.”

What? Had they ever been on a good note?

Charlene only shook her head, bypassed the live room and headed straight for the isolation booth. She wasn’t sure what song they were working on this morning but it didn’t matter, she’d read over the song sheets so many times she probably knew all of them by heart. Stepping inside the booth, she noted she was alone today. The music tracks had apparently already been laid for whatever they were working on.

“Since you were wasting your voice talking on the phone, let’s go through some warm-ups,” Akil said through the speakers in the room.

Casting a quick glance toward the live room, she tried not to frown or show that he was getting on her nerves. A fact that only aggravated the new conflict roiling through her. Despite all his negative traits she thought Akil Hutton was attractive. There, she’d admitted it to herself finally. Even now she found herself honing in on the dark tint of his skin, the rich brown color of his eyes. Eyes that held her captive each time she dared look at them.

“You do know about vocal exercises, I presume.”

She did. She taught them to her students every day. Taking a deep breath, she vowed to bite her traitorous tongue and squelch what she hoped was a minor attraction—or temporary bout of insanity.

She simply nodded in his direction, attempted a stiff smile, then straightened her posture. Steady and sure of herself, she began to breathe. Slowly she inhaled and exhaled using her diaphragm, making sure she wasn’t forcing any air. This was a common error with novice singers, forcing their voice by breathing incorrectly. An experienced singer did not need to force their voice to produce a good strong sound; that caused too much pressure against the cords and could damage the voice permanently.

She was in full work mood and nothing, not even the fine temperamental producer, was going to stop her.

She is perfect, Akil thought with alarm.

A perfectly trained singer, he amended but still didn’t feel that was quite adequate.

Even now as he watched her he felt there was something else—something more to her that seemed to touch him. That touch was both alarming and unwanted, new and familiar in a way that again scared him. Akil wasn’t afraid of anything. He’d grown up on the drug-infested streets of east Baltimore and didn’t flinch at the sight or thought of death. How could he when it was an everyday possibility where he’d lived? Those streets had made him the man he was today—the one who wasn’t afraid to take risks, to reach for what he wanted then hold on tight when he got it. Nothing tripped him up, nothing made him think twice about his goals, his aspirations. For as long as he could remember it had been that way, for better or for worse.

Until now.

Until Charlene.

He had realized that the moment she began to sing yesterday. She’d rehearsed the song, that was the first thing that surprised him. For a woman who had buried herself in a school, surrounded herself with aspiring singers but hadn’t chased the dream for herself, she was surprisingly professional and on cue.

She’d known the exact pitches to hit, even though this was her first time singing the song with music. Normally he had to rehearse a song with an artist for at least a day before they could begin recording anything, but at midnight last night he and Jason were remixing her voice over the music, blending the two together until they almost had a perfect recording.