Rhythm Bay Love
Patricia A. Bridewell
Rhythm Bay Love Copyright © 2020 by Patricia A. Bridewell. All Rights Reserved.
Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Where do I begin is the question? First, I want to lift my hands in praise, and thank my Lord and Savior for blessing me. He has brought me a long way in this writing journey. My novice experiences as a writer made me want to give up, but God has kept me confident in my ability to create stories that my readers have enjoyed.
Tyora Moody, THANK YOU so much for your talent and support in this journey, and thank you to your staff at Tymm Publishing. Blowing kisses to David Anderson. Thank you for the encouragement while I was writing this book. Donya E. Fenner, you keep me on my heels and toes and I am so blessed to have your friendship. My gratitude goes out to all who were instrumental in bringing life into this book — my editors, Felicia Murrell, Maxine Thompson, proofreader and friend – Marcena Hooks, Ella D. Curry for your awesome promotions of my books throughout the years. I want to send a shout out to my beta readers – Marsha Cecil, Severine Bryan, and Cassietta Jefferson for your honest opinions and feedback.
Other special acknowledgements go out to Victoria Christopher-Murphy and ReShonda Tate Billingsley for allowing me the opportunity to become a best-selling author in the Brown Girls Books Anthology “Single Mama Dating Drama.” Keep your eyes open for their next Anthology “Confessions Secrets and Lies Revealed.” I am excited about being a part of this anthology as well. Thank you, Raye Mitchell. Cousin, your information on the Bay Area was phenomenal. Sending love to my cousin, Bernard Mitchell, and to the kids, Tierra, Damon, DeVon. Love y’all for reminding me to get some sleep during my all-night writing marathons. To all my readers, I appreciate your ongoing support, and God bless you!
In God I Trust,
Patricia A. Bridewell
Chapter 1
JADA
Los Angeles, Friday 2019
Jada Carson removed the burgundy coffee mug that she’d hidden in the KTLM Radio Station breakroom cabinet. The white letters read “LOVE GOD AND YOURSELF FIRST.”A well-deserved gift after her breakup with Gordan – a part of her life that she chose to forget. Yet he’d hung around longer than a nasty cold.
She bought the mug during a short weekend trip to Vegas with her sister Celine. Jada inhaled, relishing in the memory of their brief getaway. She and Celine were workaholics. They fit the script well—neither had taken a real vacation in years. Celine, an R.N., darn near lived in the Emergency Room, working like her life depended on it, and she was in school pursuing a Bachelor of Science in Nursing Degree. Jada cherished her Traffic Director position and the autonomy of coordinating and scheduling the paid commercials and promotions. She rarely asked for time off fearing the radio station would collapse if she was not there. And some weekends, whenever Griff, Simon, or Toni were out of town, she was the unofficial ‘go to’ person for concerns with the commercials. She released a sigh. It was time to remind management that she was not a salaried employee.
Jada stooped down to get the coffee can and a filter from the lower cabinet. After preparing the coffee, she leaned against the counter and stared at the mug. It always reminded her of the goals she hadn’t achieved: taking better care of herself, dating again, attending church regularly, deleting Gordan from her life. For days, a somber mood that she couldn’t shake hovered — it was the tenth anniversary of the tragedy.
Los Angeles – 2009
Spring augmented a full bloom of ripe peaches, and Momma promised to make peach cobbler when she got back from vacation. Jada was home from college on spring break, and that nagging sweet tooth craved her mother’s cobbler. Her parents —Thaddeus and Ellen Carson — devoted weeks of preparation for a flight to Montego Bay, Jamaica, for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. A trip that Jada, her sisters, and Aunt Dee had encouraged them to take. But year-after-year, both parents never failed to postpone their trip. Excuses ranged from not wanting to leave the girls to Momma feeling guilty about Aunt Dee running her dress shop alone.
At a red stoplight, Jada smiled watching the elation on her parents’ faces. The light changed, and she whizzed down Century Boulevard to LAX Airport. Aunt Dee rode with her since their flight was at 5:15 a.m. and darkness still loomed over the city. Her aunt had also volunteered to stay with the girls for five days to help Jada.
“Now, Jada, be sure to keep a close eye on Charmaine,” Momma said, removing her
compact. She powdered her mocha brown face and added a coat of candy apple red lipstick.
“Momma, don’t worry about Char. I’ll check her if she gets out of hand,” Jada said.
A chuckle escaped from the back seat. “Yeah, baby girl is slick. When the parents are away, the mouse will play,” Daddy joked, holding his hand to his mouth. Jada glanced in the rearview mirror at her father laughing at his own words. She didn’t see much humor in Charmaine’s behavior. Her sister was a little fast for her young age, and Daddy was lax at times since she was the baby. But when Momma spit fire, Charmaine slowed her roll.
Momma puckered her lips. “Well, she’s a lil’ better now that she’s fourteen. But, I’m not beyond breaking off a switch and whippin’ her behind if she acts up.”
“Y’all have a good time and stop worrying about those girls. I’ll handle Charmaine and the dress shop,” Aunt Dee said with a serious look on her face, a replica of her sister’s mocha brown skin and high cheek bones. They looked so much alike, everyone assumed they were twins, but Aunt Dee was three years older than Momma. They’d grown up in a rural area of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, where hard labor was no stranger to them.
Jada and Celine also favored their mother. Charmaine acquired their father’s stunning black licorice skin tone. Although Charmaine was beautiful, she hated her skin color and never shared why.
“Yeah, she’s gonna be all right,” Daddy said. “Suga, get to your right; we’re gettin’ closer to United Airlines.”
Jada glanced over her shoulder and swerved over, merging into heavy traffic. She pulled in front of a white truck, parked in front of the United Airlines terminal and popped the trunk.
Daddy hunched over the car seat, kissed Jada’s cheek and squeezed her shoulder. Momma hugged her, and they both exited the car, leaving the aroma of their colognes lingering.
“Sweetheart, be good and take care of the girls. Dee, we’ll talk to you,” Daddy said.
“Expect a call after we get to the hotel. Probably tomorrow between two-thirty or three L.A. time
,” Momma said.
“Have fun,” Aunt Dee waved and climbed in the front seat.
Daddy lifted the luggage out the trunk, and her parents said their good-byes before they walked up to the skycap station. Jada took a deep breath and sipped bottled water while she waited for the skycap to retrieve their luggage.
Aunt Dee stuck her arms inside the sleeves of her sweater. “What a relief. To tell the truth, I didn’t think they was goin’.”
“I didn’t think so, either.”
Finally, her parents were off to a much deserved one-week trip. Daddy had worked his way up from a bus driver at L.A. Metro to a management position, and Momma ran her Touch of Class Dress Shop. Their lives couldn’t be any better. Every other day, they checked in to say hello, bragging about Montego Bay, fun under the sun, walking along the beach at sundown, partying until 12:00 or 1:00 in the morning, and sleeping in late. Surely, they could not be the parents who refused to take a vacation for six years. They sounded happier, more deeply in love than ever before. Until that fateful day.
Their plane was supposed to land in LAX at 2:53 p.m., but their parents didn’t call. Jada assumed the plane was delayed. Hours went by before Aunt Dee called the airport. Unable to obtain any information, the girls and Aunt Dee started panicking. The house phone rang. When Aunt Dee screamed, “No, Lord, please no!”
Celine exited her bedroom first; Jada and Charmaine followed her to the living room.
“Aunt Dee, what’s wrong?” Celine asked.
“The…the plane crashed. Oh, my Lord.” Sobbing, Aunt Dee dropped her head, “Everyone on board died…”
For the first several minutes after hearing the news, Celine and Jada screamed, cried and clutched each other to keep from falling to the floor. Somehow, they found the strength to console each other. As Jada’s world collapsed, she paced the room, numbness causing her hands to shake. Celine rocked back and forth, consoling Aunt Dee with one arm as they both wept.
Jada noticed her baby sister’s stiff posture. Charmaine hadn’t talked, whimpered, or cried since Aunt Dee told them about their parents. Jada walked over and gave her sister a hug, but Charmaine pulled away.
Aunt Dee mustered the energy to stand, “Girls, can we pray?” Celine, Jada, and Aunt Dee formed a circle and clasped hands, waiting for Charmaine to join.
Still sitting in a chair staring in space, she shook her head, then ran to her room.
The death of her parents propelled an influx of responsibilities and Jada struggled to help her aunt and sisters cope, especially Charmaine. There was so much to do, too much anxiety, less rest, but she mainly focused on her family and her mother’s dress shop. Still, she managed to complete her last year of college and got a job at KTLM Radio Station where she interned. It was only through God’s grace and Aunt Dee’s devotion that she made it through.
Jada gazed at the coffee still dripping into the pot. This was taking way too long. She’d come back. As she walked into her office and picked up a folder centered on her desk, she wished for a positive day. She read the large note on the front of the folder and Denise’s request about adding another spot for Gigi’s Wigs and Weaves came to mind. Now, she’d have to go deal with that crazy DJ Ant.
Chapter 2
JADA
Friday
TWENTY MINUTES LATER – Rapping on the radio station’s main studio window with a pen, Jada squinted. “Open the door,” she said in a tone one notch below a scream.
A cocky grin swiped Antoine Bailey’s mouth. He flat-out annoyed Jada, which was irritating. He lifted one hand with a scribbled note. FIVE MINUTES. Jada quickly jotted a note and pushed it against the window. NO!! NOW! He shook his head and swiveled the chair around to the microphone. Who does he think he is?
She shot the back of his head a daggered stare and watched him rock back and forth to the music, flinging both arms in the air like he was having muscle spasms. He just didn’t know. If she could do anything except go inside the studio and deal with his stuck-up egotistical attitude, she would. She huffed a long sigh. “Go ahead. Just keep ignoring me,” Jada said as if he could hear through thick glass windows and blaring music.
The door to Studio Two opened, and DJ Rocky Lopez exited. “Hey, how you doin’?”
“Oh, I’m okay. Trying to get in there.”
“You can’t get in?” he twisted the doorknob. “It’s locked. Looks like he’s busy.”
“I guess I’ll wait a while longer.”
“Yo’, hit him up on the red line. If it’s work-related, he shoulda let you in to see what you wanted.” DJ Rocky attempted to twist the knob again. Antoine wasn’t giving either of them a first or second thought. “Good luck.”
“I’m not worried, but thanks a lot.” She appreciated DJ Rocky’s advice, but she would not be the cause of any commotion. DJ Rocky already had a beef with Antoine and management about switching Antoine from nights to his dayshift.
Perched against the studio wall that was encased with glass windows, Jada tapped one foot, watched Antoine from the back, and waited for what seemed like forever to get his attention again. “Five Minutes? That’s what he said fifteen minutes ago,” she mumbled under her breath.
Why was it so hard to understand clients come first? When they buy a spot that’s supposed to air at a certain time, it had to air. His problem? Antoine knew but didn’t care if he could sit in there, play music, and make things hard for her. Well, she’d wait. And, whether he liked it or not, adding the spot was not an option.
Antoine had been at the station for over a year. A surprise to many, his rapid acceleration from newbie to one of the most prominent radio disc jockeys in Los Angeles was mind-boggling. The word was DJ Ant’s popularity had put a spit shine on Simon, the program director’s face. On the opposite side, his move to dayshift sent DJ Rocky Lopez and Jada on a tailspin.
“Wake up, wake up, L.A.! It’s time to move to the groove. This is your favorite champ DJ Ant, the Prince of Romance, bringing you the first two hours of oldies but goodies and some spicy romantic tunes for your pleasure.” Antoine lifted both hands. “More to come—musical joy at 101.3 KTLM on your dial. Here’s one of my favorites.” Running his hands through an acre of light brown dreadlocks, Antoine inhaled and leaned into the mic. In a sultry voice, he said, ““Keep Your Head to the Sky” by Earth, Wind, and Fire.”
Jada’s head tilted. She inhaled and exhaled to remain calm. This was getting ridiculous. Watching him expediently multitask between the mixing board, paperwork, laptop, and sips of water, she shook her head. That man was so full of himself. Two months. That’s how long she’d been dealing with his behavior.
Antoine turned, gave her a dimpled smile, saluted her like a sailor, and held up one finger. She almost held up her middle one, but she caught herself.
“Keep your eyes off my man,” Denise snapped her fingers as she swayed over to the door wearing a pair of four-inch multicolored Jimmy Choo shoes. A scarf that matched the shoes was a perfect choice to accent the aqua blue dress that hugged her size sixteen pyramid.
“Hey, lady, I’d be happy to. He’s not my type, and I’m about to report him to Simon. He won’t let me in.”
Denise stuck her tongue inside her cheek. “He’s probably busy… or trying to get your attention.”
“Oh, stop. He’s not that busy. And why would he want my attention?”
“You never know,” Denise said.
Jada’s eyes swept over Denise’s clothes. “Look at you. I like that outfit, and those shoes are dope.” Denise and Jada had been close friends since meeting at Pepperdine University and sharing some required courses. Both grew up in urban communities and shared a lot of common interests. Jada lived in South Central Los Angeles and Denise in Compton. Jada respected her sharp friend and was thrilled when the station hired Denise for a sales position four years ago based on her referral.
“Well, I’ve chatted with him briefly. He seemed personable.” Denise turned her focus to Antoine. “I’ve got to give him prop
s, though…he’s one fine brother.” She faced Jada and leaned toward her ear.
“Some of the sistas around here got their eyes on him.”
Jada shrugged, “All they want is the package in between his legs.”
Denise gasped and placed a hand on her chest. “No, that didn’t come out your mouth.”
Jada fluffed her reddish-auburn kinky-curly hair. “What else would they want? He’s way too arrogant. Add sarcastic and rude, too.” Though she would never tell him, Jada’s curiosity about the hype that stoked his fans’ devotion forced her to listen to his shows on the way to work. She cut her eyes at Antoine.
“Well, I-I…Oooh, have mercy. What do we have here?” Denise fanned herself with one hand while checking Antoine out. He’d removed his jean jacket and tossed it on a chair.
Jada tried to dismiss her friend’s comments, but like Denise, her eyes didn’t stray from his well-toned tattooed arms. Dang! Those musical notes and clefts moved seamlessly every time he flexed those arms. Jada loved colorful tattoos and had a red rose tattooed above both ankles.
With her eyes stuck on Antoine, Denise said, “Uh, as I was getting ready to say, they can have DJ Ant. I love my buttercup, and he’s all I need.”
Jada huffed out a sigh and waved her hand to get Antoine’s attention. “I like the tats, but my concern is why he won’t open this door.” She glanced at her watch.
“What are you trying to do?”
“Add your spot to his log,” Jada lifted her paper.
“He already knows. Wonder why he didn’t check with you?”
“That’s what I’m saying. I’ve got to make sure the commercial airs on time,” Jada checked her watch again. “I called the red line when I got in. He said he’d confirm with you. Just bang on the window after the song ends. He’ll let you in.” Denise shook her pen at Jada. “Cocky, sarcastic, whatever you wanna call him, I think he likes you.” Denise tilted her head. “And you, my sister, standing out here lookin’ in that window all this time? Just to add a spot? Give me a break.”
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