Читать книгу Love Like Crazy - Crystal B. Bright - Страница 12

Chapter 4

Laz started to chalk this trip up as a bust. He had been in Virginia for a solid week, torturing himself every day by listening to Destiny Starr’s demo. Who was this woman and where could she have gone?

No. The real question had to be why the hell had it taken Laz this long to find her? In this age of digital media and the era of YouTube stars, Laz found it rare to still get audio recordings on CDs. In the intern area of Universe, Laz had seen a discarded box filled with discs with all kinds of covers. Some had groups on them. Some had risqué photos of men and women. Others had kept it simple with a landscape scene or something artistic.

As soon as he had spotted the disc in the clear jewel case, he decided to give it a listen. If nothing else, it would either give him a good laugh or a way to pass the time.

He still remembered the feeling he got when he heard her belting out that first note. His body went stock still as though preparing it for goose bumps to shoot all over him. Then from the top of his head down to his toes, he went from warm to molten hot. The singer had a way with controlling her voice and manipulating notes like an artist making a simple but artistically stunning stroke of paint over a canvas.

As soon as he finished listening to the demo, he should have reached out to her. Bad timing. He had been put on assignment to deal with the Shauna Stellar situation, as Zinner put it. Then the massive cleanup afterward took the rest of his time. He wouldn’t have been focused on Destiny. He hoped beyond hope that someone else hadn’t made time for her since he had missed out on his opportunity.

Each open mic and coffee shop and dive bar he went to offered him no inspiration. Singers came off as cutesy girls suited for Instagram, not an arena. Then again, his mind wrapped around the idea of finding this perfect singer who had invaded his life like a ghost.

At his lowest point, he decided to try a karaoke bar. He didn’t like going to those places because people tended to copy what the original artist did when they recorded their songs. He wanted to hear originality and new voices. He had no interest in hearing someone copying Michael Jackson or Beyoncé.

It did make him curious about the act he had missed last night that the waiter told him about when he had arrived to a place called Songbirds. The other patrons in the place concurred with the waiter’s assessment. When a snippet of this singer’s karaoke song played back through the place, Laz had to sit down.

She sounded incredible and very close to Destiny Starr. Soulful yet gritty. Commanding, but still approachable. Just like everything else in his life, when he asked to meet her, the waiter said she had just paid her bill and left. Too little, too late.

Damn.

Laz also wanted to kick himself for not approaching that beauty he had seen across the room when he had gotten to the place. She looked stunning under the overhead light near the stage. He liked the way her dark brown hair framed her thin face. He also couldn’t help noticing her full, rounded breasts under her tight T-shirt and the way her waist dipped in right above her hips.

If he had time and the inclination, he would have gone up to her and introduced himself. His personality would only get him so far. What woman would want a man without a job? At least he had prospects and ambition, which both had brought him down to Virginia.

Laz had gone to bat for Chantel Woodley a couple of years ago. He hoped that she remembered him enough to offer him a job at Charisma Music, since it seemed like Section Eight would only give him a chance if he brought someone good to the table. No guarantees of that during this trip. He didn’t have any other prospects left after that place.

Laz outfitted himself with one of his best suits. He made sure his hair looked perfect. On top of that, he had demo CDs in his briefcase. He would come to this impromptu meeting with all guns blazing. He would have to, considering he hadn’t made an appointment with anyone there.

The Charisma building looked nothing like Section Eight’s huge skyscraper. The simple three-story building sat on the oceanfront side of the Virginia Beach strip. Laz had only met Fatima Evans, the founder of Charisma Music, once in his career.

The bubbly African-American woman had left an impression on him. He could see her laid-back nature setting up shop at a serene oceanfront location. Laz found it hard to believe that a huge star like Chantel Woodley, and her equally popular country-singing husband, Truman, would continue running the business Fatima had left her from this location.

Laz walked into the front door and couldn’t believe he didn’t get greeted by security guards that looked like bouncers. The two he saw in the lobby reminded him of men who would work for the Secret Service.

He strolled up to the receptionist desk. This woman actually made eye contact with him and smiled.

“Good afternoon. How can I help you?” She coupled her inquiry by leaning forward.

“Hi. I hope you can help me. My name is Laz Kyson. I was hoping to get a meeting with Chantel or Truman.” He smiled as he stared at her.

The young woman glanced down at her computer screen first. “I’m sorry. I don’t see an appointment for them for this afternoon.”

“Probably not.” He chuckled to lighten the mood. “I’m the one who called yesterday about meeting them for a potential job. I’ve worked A&R at Universe.”

He wanted to bite his tongue as soon as he mentioned Chantel’s former record label. The word must have gone out to all of her people about the place. As soon as he mentioned it, the receptionist leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. She wouldn’t be helping him today or any day.

“I no longer work there.” Maybe mentioning that will melt away her frosty attitude. “I was hoping I could use my talents for Charisma. It would be great to discuss it with Chantel.”

“Mrs. Woodley does not entertain unsolicited offers.” The woman with a purple pixie cut hairdo and big green eyes shook her head as she leaned forward. “Please check our website for any open positions.”

Laz looked around the nearly empty lobby area with the exception of two guards. “The type of position I’m looking for isn’t usually posted. I want to go beyond A&R. I want to secure talent for this label and manage them. I’m looking for someone with your beauty and an incredible voice.” He leaned forward and lowered his tone. “You wouldn’t happen to be a singer, too, would you?”

The chubby woman with a pixie cut giggled while shaking her head. “No. Of course not.”

Laz snapped his fingers in the air. “Just my luck. I can’t seem to catch a break.”

“Charisma isn’t hiring managers. If you have a business card, I would be happy to pass it along to Mr. and Mrs. Woodley. If not, I can get your information.” She pulled out a pad and pen like she knew he wouldn’t have his contact information readily available. “You can give me your number, um, if you want to give it to me. Your number, I mean. Give that to me and nothing else.”

Laz spotted her talking under her breath to herself.

“Stop talking. You sound crazy.” Then she smiled, baring all of her small, white teeth.

“I would love to give you anything and everything you want.” He smiled harder. “What I really need, though, is that meeting. I would like to wait if that’s okay.” Laz looked to the side and spotted a black-and-white striped couch along with a couple of chairs in a waiting area.

“You would be wasting your time.” She shook her head. “I don’t think they’re coming in for the rest of the day. But I don’t know that for sure. They sometimes pop in.”

“Then let’s hope today is one of those days. Besides, I’ll get to sit here and stare at you the whole time.” Laz continued to smile so that he didn’t show this young woman his frustration. “I know that with the recent birth of their twins, both Chantel and Truman have been staying close to home.” He adjusted his cuffs underneath his jacket. “I also know that both are still conducting business. Chantel just signed a new country singer a month ago, and Truman has been tapped to be a judge on a singing competition show that will film here in Virginia. Sounds like they’re working pretty hard to me.”

“I never said—”

Laz continued speaking. “Hard-working people like them will normally check in. When they do, I’ll be here waiting.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a new business card that he had created after he left Universe. He placed it on the receptionist’s desk and slid it to her. “Here’s my contact information. It would be great if you could reach out to Chantel Woodley. She and I have history.”

He had gone to bat for the talented singer when she got out of Peaceful Acres. He would leave out the fact that he also saw her the time she fainted off the stage on the day of her mother Fatima’s funeral.

“If you’re that close to Mrs. Woodley, why don’t you—” The sassy woman stopped her query, and then firmed up a smile on her face.

Laz cocked his head while giving her a smile that Bradley Kyson would endorse. “I like an inquisitive woman with impeccable manners like yourself. Makes doing business a pleasure.”

The receptionist did smile, and even looked like she took a much-needed deep breath before she continued talking. “Thank you for your information. I wish I could do more for you. Again, it won’t help you to wait here.”

“It also won’t hurt unless you look away from me.” He winked at her and sauntered to the couch where he sat right in the middle.

This receptionist didn’t understand Laz’s dilemma. He had no options. No job. No backup plan. He needed this to work. He needed a break.

An hour-long wait turned to two, then three, and before Laz knew it, the receptionist, who had gone to lunch and received packages from couriers throughout the day, now packed up her belongings. She would be kicking him out soon. Damn if she thought he would give up so easily.

It looked like she started to address him when another delivery man came through the front door. At that moment, Laz went to the men’s room. He could wait it out in there, or at least stay there until he came up with a game plan.

The standard bathroom facility had an “L” shape, which he took advantage of while he thought about his next steps. He walked over to the other side away from the door and paced.

“Come on, man. Think.” He muttered to himself without caring if anyone else had been in the place. “Being Mr. Nice Guy will only get you so far.”

No one stood in front of the urinals, and although he didn’t look under each and every stall door, he didn’t notice any closed doors.

“If I stay here until they close, it’s not like Chantel or Truman will show up.” His pacing slowed the more he talked to himself. “I can’t give up.”

He leaned against the wall covered in white tile. He closed his eyes and thought about his choices. A fleeting thought crossed his mind that he shouldn’t have quit his job at Universe. A glorified babysitter had to be better than being broke.

Laz shook his head. No way could he do that and be able to look at himself in the mirror.

He heard the main bathroom door open. His heart pounded as he slipped in the last stall and eased the door closed.

“I’ll check in here,” Laz heard a voice say from the door.

Apparently, the guards had the task of sweeping the office at the end of the day. Laz braced to be caught when he heard the opening of a popular rap song coming through a cell phone.

“Hey, babe.” The gruff voice softened a bit. “Yeah, I’m on my way home now.”

Laz heard the door opening again before silence filled the spacious bathroom. He exhaled but didn’t bother leaving the sanctuary of the stall just yet. If nothing else, maybe he could leave a handwritten note for Chantel and Truman.

A note? No, he had to do more than that. He had to find talent. He wouldn’t be able to do that from the bathroom, even one at Charisma Music.

Still in the bathroom stall, Laz pressed his back against the tile wall again and leaned his head back. “Come on. You’ve been in tighter spots than this before. You can turn this around.”

Laz’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He retrieved it and started to ignore the call when he noticed his sister’s name across the screen.

“Hey, Stinky.” Laz smirked.

“You know I hate it when you call me that.”

He could almost see his baby sister with her septum piercing and lip ring sneering. “Why do you think I do it?” He kept his voice low while he spoke to Marissa.

“Okay. Either you’re in a meeting or you’re with a bad date and trying to get out of it.” Marissa chuckled. “Why are you whispering?”

“It’s a little of both of what you said. I’m somewhere where I’m trying to get a meeting, but it’s turning out like a bad date.” Laz had to face facts. He would need to leave soon and try to get through to Chantel the proper way.

“Speaking of bad dates, hold on.”

“Wait. You’re not on one right now, are you?”

“It’s cool. It’s a first date. We just met and she’s really ditzy.” Marissa laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she had one of those fidget things spinning around on her finger when I get back out there.”

“Only the best and the brightest for you, right?” Laz chuckled, but tried keeping his voice down.

“Of course. Now, back on you. Did I hear that you’re coming down the east coast?”

Laz never suspected that Marissa would have talked to their father. “For work.”

“Coming to D.C.? I would love to see you. Plus you’re chick bait.” This time Marissa laughed.

“You are definitely Dad’s kid.” He shook his head.

“Ooh, low blow.”

“Truth hurts.” He loosened his necktie. No use looking neat and presentable when he had no one to appreciate it. “I’m actually in Virginia.”

“Northern Virginia?”

Laz hesitated before he answered. “Virginia Beach.” Before she could complain, because he had already heard her huffing, Laz explained himself just like he had to with their father. “I’m looking for a singer or group or, hell, both.”

“Have you tried looking in a mirror?” Marissa asked.

“Now you really sound like Dad.” Laz rubbed his hand across the back of his neck.

“And now I think I really hate you.”

Before Laz could make a witty response, she placed him on hold. One thing he and his sister had in common had to be their love of music. While she had him on hold, a cool jazzy song played through his earpiece. He could listen to this for a while.

When it seemed like he had heard the full song and another one, he realized that his sister might have forgotten about him.

“Look at who needs the fidget spinner.” He snickered and disconnected the call, at least, he thought he did.

Laz continued hearing music and singing. He looked at his phone’s screen to make sure he had properly disconnected the call. When he found it blank, he pressed the phone against his ear again.

When he heard an echo, he realized that the beautiful music came from inside the bathroom, but it didn’t sound like it had been pumped through a sound system. No, someone with an amazing voice sang, and damn if it didn’t sound like Destiny Starr.

He stepped closer to the corner to get a better listen. The person, who he hoped had been female, sang an old-school Gladys Knight song like she had written it herself. He crept closer to the sound but made sure to keep his identity hidden.

As he listened to how she caressed and massaged each lyric, each note, Laz got swept away. The singer managed to make each note an actual being with limbs, eyes, a soul. He felt surrounded, but he enjoyed the sensation. He liked being captured this way.

The magnetism he felt from listening to Destiny Starr sing came through like a lover in person. At one point, he even closed his eyes and leaned his head back to take in the melodic sounds.

Talent like this, a voice like hers, needed to be heard by more than just him in a men’s room. Wait. What would a woman be doing in the men’s bathroom?

When that thought hit him, Laz needed to find out the reason. Even if the voice belonged to a man, it still sounded wonderful.

As he rounded the corner, he got face-to-face with a woman. Even in her gray, oversized coveralls, she looked amazing…and familiar. Her almond-shaped brown eyes sucked him in, and her plump bottom lip had him imagining things he shouldn’t have with a stranger.

It hit him right away why she seemed familiar. He stared into those same eyes last night when he went into that karaoke dive bar. Laz spotted this beauty across the room. As soon as their gazes connected, he couldn’t stop staring. He had that same feeling now.

After a beat, she screamed, which snapped him out of his fantasy.

Laz held up his hand to calm her down. He didn’t need someone else claiming he did something inappropriate. “Easy. I was just using the bathroom.”

“The guards said no one was in here.” She clutched the handle of the mop she carried in both hands like she would use it as a weapon if needed.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He took a step forward, which made her take three steps back. “Was that you singing just a second ago?”

She dropped her gaze to the floor and shook her head. “Nope. I was playing music on my phone.” She pulled a phone from her pocket to show him. “Sorry for the noise.”

“I don’t believe that. There were changes to the song that really showed some great artistry. That definitely wasn’t a song recording. That was you.” He pointed to her. “Are you Destiny Starr?”

When he asked the question, her eyes widened and she made a hasty retreat. “I’ll come back here later.”

No way could Laz let this woman go. “Wait.” He went after her, but made sure not to touch her. “You are her, right? You sent a demo to Universe.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking—”

Laz managed to block her from leaving. “I heard it. I’ve been listening to it every day since I was able to get my hands on it. You have an incredible voice.”

“Please step aside.” She wrung her hands around the handle.

Laz placed his hand to his chest. “My name is Laz. Laz Kyson.” He extended his hand to her. When she didn’t move but kept her stare on his eyes, he lowered it and continued. “I’m in the music business, and I’m looking for artists to represent. I would love to talk to you about representing you and where you see yourself in the music industry.” He patted his pocket. “I have a business card.”

The woman laughed. “I’ve heard that line before. Usually, though, the guy wants to take me back to his place to talk.” She shook her head. “No thank you. Now if you’ll move out of—”

“I’m not like those guys. I’m only interested in representing artists who—”

“I’m at work.” She held her hand up. “I clean toilets and scrub floors.”

Laz peered down to the floor but stopped when he noticed an open textbook on the counter. Between the multiple lines of text, he noticed the graphs and mathematical equations. He hadn’t been so far removed from his college experience to forget about this course.

“And you’re in college.” He plucked his finger against the pages. “Statistics, right?”

She said nothing.

“I did really well in that class.” He nodded. “If you want, I can—”

“I don’t need to—”

This time he stopped her. “Dream? You don’t think you deserve to dream?”

That same bottom lip he admired before now trembled like she wanted to say something, maybe agree with him.

“What’s your name?” He wanted to know so much about this mysterious woman. “Please tell me it’s not really Destiny Starr.”

What did she look like under that bulky garment?

Damn, he couldn’t think about things like that. For one, it would show on his face. He didn’t want this woman thinking he wanted her for something lascivious. Laz had to show her he could be a professional, even in the middle of the men’s room.

“Avery, are you done in there already?” The men’s bathroom door swung open and an older African-American man stepped inside.

He did a stutter step when he spotted Laz with the woman he now knew to be Avery. Good name. Better than Destiny.

The man glared at Laz before looking at Avery and standing in front of her like a protective bulldog. “Who are you?”

“I was in a stall down there when I heard the most beautiful—”

“I forgot to make sure no one was in here first before I started.” Avery took the man’s hand and dragged him to the door. “We’ll get out of your way.”

“And I’ll take care of cleaning this room.” The older gentleman shrugged out of Avery’s grasp and kept his glare on Laz before turning to Avery. “You can go down to the offices on the other end of the floor. I’ll get up with you later.”

“Yes, sir.” Avery didn’t even look at Laz as she started to leave the bathroom.

“Wait.” Laz closed her hefty book and picked it up. “You forgot this.” He held it up to her, but the man standing in between the two of them snatched it from Laz’s hand.

Instead of handing Avery the book, he clasped it close to his barrel-size chest. “I’ll make sure she gets this.”

Avery scurried out of the bathroom.

The man, who had stood protectively in front of her, continued studying Laz even as he backed out of the room. “I’ll stand outside and wait until you leave before I come back in here.”

This other janitor made it obvious that he wouldn’t be leaving Laz alone with Avery. Laz released a long sigh. He had finally encountered a beautiful, magical voice, but he couldn’t get near the woman to ask her anything, and she seemed too scared to even acknowledge her magnificent gift.

“Don’t bother. I’m just finishing up.” Laz washed his hands, but kept his stare on the gentleman behind him.

After Laz dried his hands, he walked out of the bathroom and headed toward the front doors. He didn’t even know the janitor had followed him until he turned around to see if he could spot the young woman again.

“You have a good evening.” The man pulled the door closed and made sure it had been locked in every way possible.

Then he turned and went back to work.

“Damn.” Laz could wait in his rental car all night until the woman came out to go home.

His luck, the other janitor would be there with her. He would keep her away from him. Plus he didn’t want to come off as creepy or worse, a stalker. Searching for talent had been his primary focus.

Sleep. He needed rest to recharge his mind. He would go back to the hotel and get something to eat. Then he would start fresh again in the morning. This woman could be his ticket to getting back in the music business. If Chantel wouldn’t take a meeting with him, Laz could always take her to Section Eight.

Now he had to meet Miss Avery and figure out how to get her alone…for work, of course.