"Of course," Billy said. "You know it."
"Because it's hard to find good people. People you can trust. People who can give you great advice. That's something I'm more than willing to pay for."
"Your daddy would be proud of you," Billy said. "Very proud of you."
Momentarily, the smile disappeared from Matthew's face as the image of his father, the white-haired, billionaire patriarch flashed in his mind. Maybe Billy was being facetious. Maybe he was being sincere. Whatever the case that was a sore spot for Matthew. He couldn't help cringing.
He'd wanted to make his daddy proud for so many years. That's why he'd kept plugging away at football. That's why he'd covered up the first three concussions, only putting himself in more jeopardy.
He should've sat out that game against the Dolphins. But he couldn't. His daddy was coming to see him play, something he rarely did, only once or twice a year. There was no way that he would sit that game out.
His head was a little groggy and he was having dizzy spells. But he had to get through it. He knew that he could get through. He'd seen so many of the other brave men, gladiators and gridiron warriors, play through injuries, push past pain, take themselves to the edge. He could do that. He would make his father proud. He desperately wanted to believe that. But a blindside hit early in the game, the second play of the game, knocked him right off his feet.
His head slammed into the turf. He saw stars and had to be carted off the field. He'd been knocked out cold, concussed. What an embarrassment! They didn't even bother taking him to the locker room. Instead, they'd rushed him straight to the hospital.
When he opened his eyes, he saw his daddy staring down at him his lips quivering in anger. Mathew knew what that look meant. He'd let his father down, deeply disappointed him.
That image was one of the last that he had of his father who several months later would suffer a massive heart attack while working on the ranch.
Chapter 5
A week later Cynthia finally touched down in Denver. She knew that it would be beautiful, those rocky mountain peaks, that vast blue western sky. But she still wasn't prepared for just how stunning it was. She breathed in the air deeply. She could sense a new energy about her, a new intensity surging through her veins.
She was on the verge of the biggest moment in her career. These next few months would determine everything. This is what she had worked her whole life for.
So many up-and-coming and would-be artists waited their whole careers for opportunities like this, in vain, their hard work never paying off, the sweat and toil never amounting to anything. But a pile of ashes. If she didn't get this right, if she didn't make the most of this opportunity, she might as well go off and run away and just hide herself in shame. So many people were excited for her. So many people were counting on her to succeed. Black girl magic. That's what she had. That would be the hashtag that she would use. She would be part of that movement, the movement of up-and-coming hip, sexy, smart entrepreneurial black women.
But she was still alone. A single black woman. She didn't want to be another statistic, another goddamn cliché. Where were all the men? That's what she would ask herself. Where were all the men?
But this wasn't the time to worry about that. There was work to do. Her producer Billy, the guy she'd been working with in New York City for the past five years, sent a car to pick her up at the airport and drive her to the ranch.
It was around two o’clock in the morning when Billy finally told her to come out of the recording booth. Both of his assistants had already gone to bed, so it was just the two of them in the studio.
“Not bad for the first day,” he said as she walked back into the main section of the studio. “Not bad at all. But it still feels like something’s missing in the love song. It seems like you’re holding something back.”
Cynthia was too exhausted to argue. She plopped down in a comfy chair and closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember ever working so hard, yet he was telling her that it still wasn’t good enough.
“Don’t worry, though. It’s about process and you’re in the perfect place.” Billy came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He began to gently massage her. Cynthia was too tired to realize that her producer might have been getting a bit too close. She was too tired to realize or care that he might have had other ideas in mind besides just comforting her at the end of a long workday.
“What time do we start tomorrow?”
Billy smiled and continued massaging her shoulders. “I think that we could get started in the early afternoon. I’ve never been one for morning work.”
“That’s fine with me. I can’t wait to just curl up in that huge bed. I love beds like that. They make me feel like a princess in my own castle.”
A sly smiled appeared on Billy’s lips. “My bed’s even bigger,” Billy said. And I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”
Suddenly Cynthia snapped back to the present and she realized that Billy was crossing a line that he had never crossed before. She stood up and walked to the other side of studio.
“Is something wrong?”
Cynthia didn’t want to make eye contact with him. She had never felt uncomfortable around Billy. They had been working together for years and she couldn’t remember him ever putting his hands on her like that. She crossed her arms against her chest.
“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just that I’ve had a really long day. The last thing I want is to end up jet lagged tomorrow.”
Billy’s seemed a bit hurt by how quickly she had moved away from him. But he did his best to mask his disappointment. “That’s fine. I’m going to stay down here and get a bit more work done.”
Cynthia nodded and walked out of the studio. She was relieved when she got back up to her room. She plopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Am I being paranoid or was Billy actually coming onto me down there? She wondered. She remembered what Cynthia had said to her about Billy bringing her out here to this remote location to record the album. This wasn’t the first time that they had been in the studio alone after a long workday. But he had never before tried rubbing her shoulders.
Whatever all that touch feely stuff was about, she had hoped that he had gotten it out of his system. That’s not what she was interested in. she wanted their relationship to remain plutonic and professional. If Billy was expecting more than that he would end up being very disappointed.
Chapter 6
The next morning Cynthia woke up around 10am. It wasn’t like her to stay in bed that long, but the extra sleep was just what she needed to recover. She was ready to get to work but she knew that Billy and his assistants would probably be sleeping until well into the afternoon. That’s how men in the music business operated. It was something that she still hadn’t gotten used to. Growing up her father had always woken up and five AM to begin his workday. That’s what she had come to expect from a man. Her father had even told her on more than one occasion not to trust any man who wasn’t out of the bed by 6am.
After showering and getting dressed, Cynthia made her way down to the kitchen. She could have really used something filling—like grits, bacon, or eggs. Unfortunately for her there was hardly anything in the refrigerator, except for bottles of champagne, liquor, and a box of old delivery pizza. She sighed as she closed the refrigerator door. Then she saw a note on the counter. It had Billy’s name on the bottom.
If you want to get something to eat. Grab the keys on the table and take the Benz into town. Goodwin’s Diner is the best place for breakfast. But watch out for the cowboy.
She was glad that he had been thoughtful enough to leave the keys out for her but she was still a little disappointed that he hadn’t actually stocked the fridge with food. She would be happy to take a drive and get to know the area better. But them last line didn’t make any sense to her. She figured it was some inside joke amongst the guys. Cowboys? She had never seen a real cowboy, not in person. As she said that word a tingly energy spread thro
ughout her body and she couldn’t help smiling. She grabbed the keys and headed out to the driveway.
Within ten minutes she saw the sign for the diner come into view. This wasn’t the kind of food the she usually ate for breakfast but she could hear her stomach making noises and she desperately needed to eat something. When she got out of the car, she noticed that some of truckers in the parking lot turned to look at her. Their eyes went from her to freshly washed beamer that she’d driven up and then they floated back to her. Their insistent and curious stares made her uncomfortable but she quickly brushed away that feeling. She wasn’t the type of person who spent a lot of time fretting about what strangers thought of her. She had learned early in the that when you held your head up high and were confident in yourself people would take notice of you, especially if you happened to be a curvy African-American woman.
When she walked into the diner, it didn’t take her long to notice that she was one of the very few African-Americans in there. A few black men in trucker gear turned, looked her up and down and then went back to eating their breakfast. They might have thought she was stuck up or something but once again she quickly brushed off the negative attention.
“Hello, miss,” a middle-aged blond hair waitress said to her. “Would you like to sit down or is your order to go?”
Cynthia hesitated a moment before answering. She looked around the diner for a moment. It was your typically greasy spoon. Back home she would have never looked twice at a place like this. But she wasn’t back home. She had come all the way out here for new experiences and inspiration for her album. And an important part of that process was stepping out of her comfort zone.
She told the waitress that she wanted to sit down in a booth. The bleached blond raised her eyebrows raised her eyebrows in surprise. Then she led Cynthia to a booth.
She ordered coffee, bacon, eggs, and toast. She couldn’t wait for the food to come. Her stomach was growling and her mouth began to water. She could hear the bacon and eggs crackling. And the smell of grease was thick in the air. She was glad that Billy hadn’t stocked any food in the fridge. If she didn’t leave his ranch, there was so much that she would be missing out on. It wasn’t long before the waitress came back with the steaming hot plates. Cynthia immediately dug in. the bacon and eggs tasted delicious, very greasy but delicious. She was reminded of the down home southern she used to enjoy during the summers with relatives. The sweetness of the maple syrup was the perfect complement to the grease and she washed it all down with swigs of black coffee. Within minutes, she was completely satisfied. She leaned back in the booth with a big smile on her face.
Chapter 7
Cynthia turned and looked out the window. What she saw made her sit straight up in the booth and sent an electric charge through her body. It was a man. He was well over six feet. He was wearing boots, blue wranglers, a white button down shirt, and a ten-gallon hat. Everything about him seemed so exotic. Cynthia had only seen men who looked like that on television, never in real life. And she would never have believed that such men actually existed. But here he was coming into the diner. Cynthia began to feel tingly all over. She saw attractive men in New York everyday of her life but she couldn’t remember the last time that a man had made her feel like this. She quickly pulled out her mirror, reapplied her lipstick, and put her hair into place. She only wished that she had put more thought into her outfit—flats, black spandex, and a t-shirt definitely wouldn't do her curvy body justice. There was no time to worry about that. She just wanted to make eye contact and see where things went from there.
She had a clear view of the cowboy as he entered the diner and pulled off his hat. She was not disappointed by his full head of blond hair and he’s a gentleman, she thought and smiled. The blond waitress greeted him and led him to a table. He greeted some people and shook a few hands. So he’s a regular, Cynthia thought. Interesting. He was coming right towards her. Even though her eyes were locked on him, he hadn’t noticed her yet. Please just look this way, look this way she said under her breath, desperate to feel the energy emanat8ing from his gaze. As he came within a few feet of Cynthia’s table, the cowboy finally seemed to notice her. She noticed that despite his smiling face, there was something sad and melancholy, maybe even poetic in his eyes. But when he caught sight of her, his eyes seemed to brighten a bit. She blushed and lowered her head. When she looked up, he had already walked by her. Her whole body tingled with excitement. She wondered if all the men out here were as sexy as the blond cowboy. But one look around the diner supplied her the answer to that question. No, he was definitely one of a kind.
She was completely full and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to eat anymore, but she had no desire to leave the diner. None, at all. She would wait there until her dreamy, blond cowboy finished his meal. There was no need to rush back to the house. Billy and his assistants would be sleeping for at least another few hours. Where had this man come from? It was as if he had walked out of a dream and right into her life. She knew that if she let him get away without speaking to him she would never forgive herself. There was no way that she would let that happen. But then she was struck suddenly by doubts and insecurity. What would a guy like that want to do with a girl like her? Maybe she was just setting herself up to be disappointed. If she was back in New York she would have no problem coming with a pretext to start a conversation with him. But she was a long way from home and she had no idea how men and women were supposed to interact out here in the west. Maybe she should have googled it. Or maybe she should have gotten some info from her New York friends before coming out here. But none of that mattered at the moment. She would just have to push her fears aside and go up and talk to him.
“Are you sure you want another cup of coffee, honey? Haven’t you already had five?”
Cynthia could feel her hands becoming jittery and heart rate beginning to pick up. She wasn't sure whether that was because of the strong desire she felt towards the cowboy or it was all the caffeine that she kept drinking. The refills were free and she needed any excuse to remain in the booth until the cowboy left. Her plan was to follow him out of the diner and then to follow him in her car. That’s as far as she had thought out her plan. She really wasn’t sure what she would do once she got behind him.
Without thinking about it, Cynthia turned around and looked towards the cowboy’s booth. He wiped his mouth and took a sip from a soda.
“I suggest that you stay away from that one, honey. I think he’s a little bit out of your league. But don’t feel bad he’s out of mine as well. No shame in that.” It took Cynthia a few moments to realize that the waitress had caught her staring at the cowboy.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Were you saying something?”
“I was just commenting on that handsome cowboy that you were batting your lashes at.”
Cynthia was offended with how presumptuous the waitress was being. Out of her league? How did this bleach blond, middle-aged waitress know anything about her league? If she were back home, she may have made something of those comments and pushed back against them but she realized that she was far from home and she needed to be a bit more discreet. So instead of arguing, she figured that waitress would be a good source of information.
“Does he come in here often?” Cynthia asked.
“If by often, you mean every day twice a day, then the answer is yes.”
Cynthia could sense that the waitress was beginning to get an attitude with her. So she figured it would best not to ask any more questions. And just as those thoughts were floating around her head, she heard boots clanging on the floor and slowly approaching her table. Then she saw the waitress face light up.
“Nothing more for you today,” Mathew said with a big smile on his face.
Cynthia whipped her neck around to see what had excited the waitress. She saw the cowboy towering over her. His blue eyes glittered and he flashed a sexy smile. She had the sense right away that he was attracted to her. The waitress might have picked
up on that as well as her eyes shifted from Mathew to Cynthia then went back to Mathew. The smile had been knocked off her face. She clearly didn't like the warm glances that these two apparent opposites were exchanging with each other. But her negative energy didn’t seem to bother either of them. They were too lost in each in others eyes.
“Well, I guess I’ll just leave you two alone then,” the waitress said before snickering and quickly walking away.
“Don’t mind, Dolores. She gets a little protective of me sometimes.”
Cynthia licked her lips. Her eyes roved up and down his body. She could tell that underneath those jeans he had long sexy legs. And she would have guessed that the rest of his body was lean and muscular as well.
After she was done looking up and down his body, Cynthia stared into Mathew’s beautiful blue eyes. They made her body vibrate with excitement and anxiety. She wanted to say something, she desperately did, but it was as if her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and no words would come out.
It was finally Mathew who broke the silence. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” he said. "My name’s Mathew."
He extended his hand. Cynthia gently clasped it in hers, keeping her eyes fixed on him the whole time. She was so transfixed that it took her minute to realize that she needed to tell him her name. She blushed and lowered her eyes. If it weren’t for her caramel skin she would have been bright red.
She swallowed and finally pushed the words out. “I’m Cynthia.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Cynthia. Would you mind if I take a seat in the booth with you?”
“No, go right ahead.”
Mathew sat down on the other side of the booth. He took off his ten-gallon hat and placed it by his side.
“That’s a real nice hat. Are you a cowboy or something?”
Mathew smiled wryly and cocked his head to the side.
“I ‘m sorry did I say something silly. I’ve been in New York for most of my life and I’ve never really seen men walking around with hats like that.”
Lady of Way Page 31
