Читать книгу Love Like Crazy - Crystal B. Bright - Страница 10

Chapter 2

“Lazarus, are you listening to me?”

Never a good thing when Dad used his full first name. No one, not even his mother, still called him Lazarus. That got his attention. In order to keep his schedule, he would have to treat his father like he had taught him to treat the women he dated, think about something else while acting like he cared.

“Listening, Pop.” Laz whipped off the towel he had around his waist and hung it over the shower rod.

Laz flew from one side of his small Brooklyn apartment to the other to pack items into a couple of suitcases. As much as he didn’t want to ignore his father, Laz had too much to do in a short amount of time. Thankfully, he did this call on speakerphone instead of Facetime.

Laz’s father snickered. “Doesn’t sound like you’re listening to me.”

“Really? What do you think I’m doing?” Not that Laz cared.

Running around naked only made sense until he finished packing. Laz had a game plan, although it did seem like his dad had some sort of sixth sense to know when he had lost his job. He hadn’t told his nosy sisters, who, even though they didn’t live with either parent, still felt the childish need to run to them with all news, particularly about him.

“You’re not answering me.” Bradley Kyson would not be ignored.

So that Laz’s frantic movements didn’t translate through his voice, he stopped for a moment to address his father. “I did. I’m traveling. I’m packing up right now.”

“You’re leaving New York?” Bradley’s voice reminded Laz of some excited kid. “Coming down to D.C.?”

Thankfully Bradley couldn’t see Laz and watch his son roll his eyes. Laz knew exactly why his father wanted him to visit. It had nothing to do with wanting to see his only son.

“Yes, I’m leaving New York. No, I won’t be stopping to come to your home.” Laz had work to do if he wanted to keep his name relevant in the music industry. Kat and Zinner wouldn’t derail him from his goals.

“You know you can stop here even if you just spend the night.” Bradley chuckled, but it came out like a lecherous growl. The man stayed on the prowl.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grabbed a few suits from his compact closet and piled them on his bed.

Bradley cleared his throat.

“Yes, sir.” Laz ran his hand over his still damp hair. Even through his haste, he had to remember his manners, especially with his parents.

“Where are you going this time? You’re traveling for work, right?” The lightness started to return to Bradley’s tone.

Laz hated lying to anyone, especially to his dad. “I am traveling for work. I’m going to meet with a record company here in town, and then I’m going to hit some open mics down the east coast, looking for talent.”

Bradley snorted. “You’re searching for talent? Why do that when you have it in spades? You didn’t give up playing piano, did you? I hope you didn’t waste all those lessons.”

Laz felt the same uncomfortable churning in his gut that he used to get afflicted with after each lesson when he knew his parents wanted a show.

“I still tickle the ivories now and then.” Laz glanced at the small piano in the short hallway in front of his door. He managed to find it in halfway good condition at a flea market.

After some tuning and dragging it up two flights of stairs, he used the instrument to wind himself down each night. Luckily, he had neighbors who didn’t mind his mini nightly concerts.

“And you still sing.”

With that statement, Laz had to stop in his tracks when he suddenly felt lightheaded, as though a stadium full of people stood by to watch him play and sing in the buff. He took a deep breath and hoped his father didn’t hear him attempting to catch his bearings and calm himself down.

“Only in the shower.” Laz had to get off this topic. “It’s not about me, Pop. I won’t fill seats.” No one wanted to see him floundering on stage or, worse yet, hiding behind a large piano. “Audiences want beautiful people with stellar voices. I have a keen eye and ear for both. I have a feeling, though, if I have to go past Virginia to find talent, I’ll be in trouble.”

The last address on file at Universe for Destiny Starr had the songstress situated in Virginia. With only a post office box address and no social media accounts, he would be hard pressed to find her.

“Or it could be a great thing. You can stop here and—”

“Pop.”

“What?”

“If you’re still talking about me visiting you, I’m not doing it. I’m not going to be your wingman.” Laz distinctly remembered being a little kid when Bradley had trotted him out in malls and grocery stores to get women to come to him.

“Don’t call yourself that. I’d like to think that we’re just two single men on the prowl.” Bradley laughed.

“Mom didn’t think that way when you two were married.” The hairs stood on the back of Laz’s neck when he recalled his parents’ knockdown fights.

“Watch yourself.” The serious timbre returned to Bradley’s voice. “What happened between me and your mother is our business.”

“It would have been if you didn’t use me as bait, and we didn’t have to hear the fights. But you didn’t call me to rehash our past.” Now that Laz’s temperature rose to lava level, his skin dried enough for him to get dressed. “Besides, how can I compete with getting hot women when I’m with the original hunk of burning love?”

The compliment seemed to work. Laz heard his father laughing through the phone like he agreed with his son’s assessment. Easing the tension between him and Bradley relaxed Laz’s shoulders.

He slipped on a pair of boxers before throwing on his best suit pants. Laz would have to look amazing for the meeting with Section Eight, a hip-hop label known for the hardest rappers and artists who had become famous on social media first before signing their first deals.

The thought of it turned his stomach. Laz wanted to represent talent, not just flash. Immediately, he recalled that mystery singer’s angelic voice. God, he hoped she still performed, and he could find her.

“Can I help it if I’m still hot?” Bradley laughed louder. “And is it wrong for me to want to spend time with my only son?”

With his father’s wandering eye and his overly eager need to please, Laz wouldn’t be surprised if he had a half brother or more out there somewhere.

“I thought you were seeing someone seriously now.” Laz slipped on a button-down shirt and hung a gray-and-blue striped tie around the collar. “Lisa or Lorna.”

“Laura was a very nice woman. We only had a few dates before I thought it was best that we keep it casual.”

Laz understood Bradley’s code of wanting to see other people. At least he hoped this woman got the courtesy of a warning before his father cheated on her.

“What about you? Please tell me you’re not still seeing that one woman.”

Laz heard Bradley make a noise that sounded almost like he wanted to vomit. He hated giving the old man news that would make him happy.

Laz sighed before he spoke. “Erin and I only dated a few times. Nothing serious.”

The lie sounded better than admitting that Erin had hated the number of hours he devoted to his career than quality time with her. Laz would also keep hidden that his last serious relationship with Erin had occurred over two years ago.

“Whew. Good. Good,” Bradley said. “You’re young.”

“Twenty-seven is not young. There’s so much I wanted to have done by now.” Laz would leave out the fact that despite having a bit of his father’s charisma and a need to meet and date every gorgeous woman out there, Laz desired a steady relationship, which to him meant marriage and having a family. Unfortunately, the two didn’t go together.

Unlike Bradley, Laz saw family as the structure that made him stronger. He wanted to impart that feeling to a wife and children they would raise together. Having a successful career would only help solidify a strong home structure. Too bad Erin didn’t see it that way.

“Trust me. You have time.” Bradley had a longing in his voice, almost like he regretted the choices he had made. Maybe he didn’t want to have children at all. “Enjoy life. Experience as much as you can. And by experience, I mean—”

“I get it.”

He knew his father wanted Laz to have as much sex with as many women as possible. Those actions didn’t exactly fit Laz’s character. He liked getting to know a woman. If in the course of their interaction it led to something more intimate, so be it.

Instead of getting in an argument with Bradley about his decisions, he continued with their previous conversation.

“Let’s get back to talking about you. Marissa lives by you and she’s single. Why don’t you two hang?” Laz hated throwing his baby sister under the bus. He needed a break.

“She’s busy. At least that’s what she tells me when I ask her out to breakfast or lunch.” Bradley sniffed. “And Josie is busy with her family. Again, that’s what she tells me. Flora is too far.”

“You’re working part-time now. Go visit them and your grandkids.” Laz finished getting dressed.

“And have them calling me grandpa? That’s okay.”

Laz shook his head as he reviewed his look before leaving his apartment for—what he hoped—would only be a few days at the most. “Pop, I got to go. When I get a moment, I’ll give you another call.”

“Sure. Be good, kid.” Bradley ended the call before Laz could get to his phone.

Laz would load up his rental car just in case he would have to make a road trip, which he hoped he wouldn’t. Not that he wanted to work for Section Eight Records in particular. He just wanted an opportunity.

He caught a cab to Manhattan. It still surprised him that a record label that named itself after a welfare program would have their headquarters in one of the richest locations in New York.

Laz approached the building surrounded by glass and chrome. At least the outside looked professional. He straightened his tie and smoothed his hand down the front before he buttoned one button on his jacket.

As soon as he walked inside, he got hit with a setup that looked like an airport TSA area. A metal detector met him first with armed guards standing on the other side.

“Put all metal objects in the dish and walk through.” The mountain of a man that spoke didn’t even seem human.

The impossibly tall white man wore a long, black T-shirt and black jeans along with black combat boots. The hanging badge around his thick neck had been the only clue Laz had about the legitimacy of this whole setup.

He placed his keys, watch, and change into a dinged-up plastic bowl before he walked through the detector. Laz kept his stare on the big man’s eyes through the trip. He had a feeling that if the alarm had gone off, the guard would have tackled him to the ground. Laz wanted to be on the offensive instead of the defensive.

Once through the guard gate, he approached the reception desk. A beautiful young woman with stick-straight, black hair kept her face still even as Laz approached. She didn’t even break a smile or introduce herself or the business.

Laz saw her as a challenge. For all of Bradley’s faults, he had blessed Laz with his gift of charm.

“I’m here to see Miss Farook, but I was drawn to this spot because of your stunning beauty.” Laz kept his stare on her with his mouth agape. When the woman gave him a suspicious stare, he continued. He scanned the bustling lobby area. “I don’t know how these men”—Laz brought his gaze back to her—“and women haven’t stopped what they’re doing to just look at you all day. I would.” He completed his compliment with a wink.

He thought he saw a small twitch at the side of her mouth like she wanted to crack her stony exterior and give him the smile he worked hard to get.

Laz straightened out his tie. “I’m Laz Kyson.” He even extended his hand.

He assumed that in her position, most people didn’t give her the respect she deserved. As a receptionist, people probably viewed her as a nuisance, someone to get over to get to the top. Laz would treat her like an important part of this process, get people to like him from the ground up.

The woman did a slow blink that somehow annoyed Laz before she gazed down at a tablet. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you.” He started to turn but stopped. “Hold on.” He reached forward and with the tip of his middle finger, he managed to collect a small eyelash stuck on her cheek. “Got it. Nothing should take away from your flawless face.” With his finger in front of her face, he leaned forward and smiled. “Eyelash. Make a wish and blow it away.”

The receptionist wrinkled her brows as she regarded him.

“And don’t waste your wish on something like wishing someone would appreciate you.” He pointed to himself. “That’s already happened.”

At that line, she finally snickered.

Got her!

She puckered her rich, red, thin lips and blew the black, slender lash from his finger.

Laz chuckled. “Good things will come your way.” He bowed his head and started to head toward the seating area.

“Um, would you like something to drink?”

Laz kept his back to her after he stopped in his trek. He had to get himself together before he addressed her again.

He turned around. “Thank you, but I don’t want to trouble you for anything. I’m sure serving me was not the wish you just made.”

Even without direction, Laz sat down in a white leather chair in a waiting area. He made sure to face the reception area so he could watch Stone Face make and receive calls.

To occupy his time, he checked his emails and messages on his phone. He only looked up when he noticed someone standing in front of him.

Stone Face now carried a slight smile on her face and a frosty bottle of water in her hand.

As Laz reached for it, she spoke. “Don’t be so sure about me not wanting to serve you as my wish.” She winked at him after he took the bottle from her.

“Thank you. I appreciate this.” Now he had to reel back the charm. He knew well enough about leading women on and making them feel something that he didn’t.

Laz had gotten there ten minutes earlier than his appointment time. An hour later, he finally met with Sanaa Farook, the head of Section Eight Records.

A guard escorted him in the elevator and took him up to the top floor. After the guard swiped his badge, punched in a code on a keypad, and pressed his thumb against a blank screen by the pad, the doors opened.

The guard ushered Laz into the bright room. Laz didn’t want to glance around too much, but to him, it looked like Sanaa’s office encompassed the entire top floor.

The woman, the boss and owner of Section Eight, strolled across the floor. The dark-skinned, heavyset woman carried a round face framed by long, chocolate brown feathered hair.

He didn’t know if the woman had a positive attitude or if her face naturally carried a smile as her resting expression. Due to her smooth skin without one wrinkle, she looked like a teenager, not the head of one of the most successful record labels out there.

“Thank you.” She addressed her guard and gave him a simple nod to the elevator to dismiss him. Then she looked at Laz. “Have a seat.”

Her gold jewelry glowed against her onyx-colored skin. In her expensive, custom-tailored designer dress, she didn’t appear to embody her Section Eight company name. Not her size, not her beauty, and particularly not her clothing.

Before sitting down as she had instructed, Laz extended his hand to her and shook hers. Her skin revealed how Sanaa ran a successful business. Hard, calloused spots covered parts of her palm.

“I appreciate your time, Miss Farook.” Laz didn’t expect for her to apologize for keeping him waiting or to pussyfoot around in this meeting.

For her, time equaled money.

“I’ve heard your name before.” Sanaa’s fingers moved deftly over her tablet screen where she kept her attention.

“I used to work at Universe in A&R.” Laz sat up tall. “I want to not only acquire new talent, I want to manage them.”

“And you couldn’t do this for Zinner?” Sanaa glanced up from her screen long enough to study his face.

“He and I didn’t share my vision.” He smoothed his hand down his tie.

“Can you tell me about any talent you have found in the past? I’m interested in understanding what you find appealing as far as music.” Sanaa dropped her attention back to her tablet and continued typing like she had to relay nuclear codes to the president.

“I scouted and helped sign Ariah.” When he noticed Sanaa’s lack of response, he expounded on this talented singer. “She’s an indy artist who’s big in the alternative scene.”

Sanaa’s only sign of acknowledgment came with a single head nod. Laz would take it.

“I also helped sign Marcus Grace, Orli Skye, and the Butterfly Twins.” When he didn’t see a rise out of Sanaa, he decided to mention the names of artists with more of a hip-hop angle. “I was also the one who found the Sankofa Boyz.”

At the mention of that group’s name, Sanaa peered up.

Laz knew he would snag her full attention with this bit of news. “Before Chantel Evans, I mean Chantel Woodley, decided to branch out on her own, I was the one who went to bat for her to retain her at Universe.”

“But that didn’t work.” Sanaa reclined in her leather swivel chair. “Your taste in music is eclectic.” She nodded. “I do like that, although my company focuses on hip-hop and rap. We’re going to dabble in R&B and maybe some pop. If you could get me someone like Shauna Stellar who is young and hungry, then we would have something.”

Laz had to bite his cheek to keep himself from wincing when Sanaa referred to Chantel Woodley by her old stage name of Shauna Stellar. He didn’t need to insult the person who could be employing him.

“If I were able to secure talent like that, would I have a place here at Section Eight, and would my job here be as a manager?”

“You don’t mince words, do you?” She smiled. “I like that. Get talent like that, you would not only have a place here, you could talk about other development deals here with the company.”

He exhaled. “Sounds promising. I am about to travel to some open mic places to do some scouting.”

Sanaa raised her eyebrows. “On your own?” She nodded. “Great initiative.”

The compliments got Laz to sit up taller. He felt like Sanaa Farook would be making him an offer soon.

“How is your relationship with Kat?”

The mention of the starlet’s name sent an uncomfortable tickle up the back of his neck. “She’s a Universe artist. She makes the company a lot of money, and she’s extremely popular.”

No way would he be caught saying anything bad about her. It still gave him a bad taste in his mouth to have been terminated because she came on to him.

“That was a diplomatic answer.” Sanaa snickered. “If I hire you, are you able to keep it in your pants long enough to do your job.”

Laz gritted his teeth before he spoke. “Miss Farook, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but—”

“What I heard is that Universe just let someone go who dipped his pen in the company ink. Then all the sudden you’re coming to me looking for work. Maybe you’re looking to cast your net into a bigger pool.” She sniffed and shook her head. “I understand how the industry works. You are hot as hell.”

Laz gave her a polite smile. “I get it from my father.”

Sanaa smirked. “Don’t get cute. I appreciate your passion; however, I have no interest in bringing in drama.”

Laz dropped his charming act and leaned in closer to her so that she could see the passion in his eyes. “I would say to not believe everything you hear. My only interest is in the music, always has been and always will be.”

Sanaa rolled her eyes, and the expression made him realize that he lost her, both her interest and, possibly, her respect.

She stood. Damn. Laz felt she would be dismissing him soon. He would wait to stand until Sanaa said it officially.

“I have great A&R and enough managers. But I don’t want it to be said that I’m not open or flexible, even though I’m not.” She came around her large glass desk. “Since you’re doing work on your own, you’re more than welcome to contact me if you find that next big artist that’s going to blow me away and bump up Section Eight’s status.” She extended her hand to him. “Until then, good luck.”

Fuck!

Laz smiled as he stood. “Thanks for the opportunity. Hopefully, I’ll be back to show you some great artists for your company. I’m hoping to meet up with an artist who fits that bill.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, or I guess I should say, hear it.” She sat back down and brought her attention to her tablet.

He took the elevator to the lobby. When he exited the elevator, he noticed the stares from the sour receptionist and the security guards. Damn, bad news traveled fast. He didn’t know if the looks came because he had been dismissed or because of the stories about him and Kat…or both.

So much for the word not getting out. He didn’t know if Zinner said something or Kat or both. Either way, Laz knew he wouldn’t be able to redeem himself until he found the right talent.

He had to show people his professionalism. For now, he would have to go home, change, and hit the road. Something good would have to come to him soon.