Aria wrung her hands together. “I think it might come down to that. I keep upping the dosage, and now the doctor refuses to go any higher. He can’t figure out what’s wrong and neither can I. It’s just so strange…” She paused, thinking. “I’ve been on this medication for five years, and it’s only just giving me problems now?”
“The human body is complex. Vocal cords are fragile, and you’ve been putting a lot of stress on yours. It’s bound to happen on a tour this long—exposed to so many different people, countries, and climates. You might be growing immune to the medicine. All I know is that I need you to be singing behind me, and I’m extremely pissed off that people are pulling me aside to whisper in my ear about problems they’re hearing.”
Her eyes suddenly changed. “What if I can’t ever sing again?” Her voice rose as a panic swept in. “Yoshi, what if I lose my—”
“You’re not going to lose your voice.” He tried to stop her train of thought before it went any further.
She stomped her foot when tears stung her eyes. “Damn it, Yoshi. I told you I didn’t want to talk about this on your big night. Thank God I haven’t gotten my makeup done or I’d be on the verge of ruining it with my dramatic tears.”
“It will never be my big night if it isn’t yours too. If you’re hurting, I’m losing. And I can see you’re hurting, so talk to me.”
Her expression turned vulnerable and she exhaled, eyes shining. “Singing is all I have left.”
Yoshi’s jaw went slack, and when the first tear fell from her eyes, it tightened.
“Can you give us a minute?” he asked the seamstress, who smiled at him and gave a sharp nod before leaving the dressing room.
He approached the podium, taking her waist and burying his nose into the small of her back, just above the swell of her ass. He breathed her in before slinging his arms around her thighs, laying his chin on her full bottom. He shook her. “Singing is not all you have, Aria. You have me. You’ll always have me, and we’re going to fix it. I promise you.” When he was met with silence, he shook her again. “Have I ever made you a promise I haven’t kept?”
More silence. Then a shaky, “They’ve been looking for any reason to throw me off this tour, and now they’ve got it.”
“Nobody is throwing you off the tour. Even if you have to sit out a few shows while we figure this out, no fucking way I’m allowing you to be removed. And as soon as I win this Grammy?” He circled the podium and took hold of her hips, pressing his chin into her stomach, looking up at her. “I will, officially, be too big to move, and no one will tell me who I can and can’t be with. No one will tell me who I can and can’t have on my tour. Nobody will ever tell me how to live and who to love, never again. After tonight…” He exhaled. “Everything will change, baby. I promise you that.”
His hands circled her body and he cupped her ass, drinking in her laugh and the playful shove that followed. He tugged her back in, pressing his cheek into her stomach as they fell into a prolonged embrace.
“Who says you’re going to win?” she teased. “You fall deeper in love with yourself every day, you know that?”
“Of course your boy is gonna win.” He tightened his hold. “Don’t you know who I am?”
--
“And the Grammy for Best New Artist goes to…” Gloria Estefan and Marc Anthony gazed down at the envelope as she fumbled to unfold it. After throwing a sheepish smile towards the crowd, Gloria managed to get it open, and they both smiled. “Yoshi, Kings and Queens!”
And with those four words, Yoshi swept his nominations. Narrowly escaping the kiss Carmen tried to place on his cheek from the seat next to him, her ninth attempt of the night, he took hold of the back of his chair and pushed himself to a stand, smiling the whole way.
After taking all nine categories, the crowd had no choice but to leap to their feet for Yoshi, the applause deafening. Even though he’d called it with Aria in the dressing room earlier that day, he still found himself shaking his head in disbelief, moving on wobbly legs, and sharing an amazed handshake with Phil as they made their way towards the steps that led up to the stage.
Yoshi motioned for Phil to go ahead of him, his eyes riveted to Aria, who stood between Gus and Carmen. As he passed her, licking his lips and giving her a coy smile, he couldn’t help but reach out and brush the tips of his fingers on her waist.
They shared a secret smile.
He could feel the blazing fury of Simon’s eyes burning his cheek from next to Gus, but he didn’t care.
He let his fingers fall away before the touch became suspect. If he’d let it go on even a second longer, there wouldn’t be a question in anyone’s mind where his heart was. His mind. His soul.
He took the steps to the stage two at a time, doing a celebratory shuffle once he made it to the top, a shot of adrenaline racing through him from one simple touch of Aria’s waist. He accepted a kiss on the cheek from Gloria, and a handshake from Marc, receiving the Grammy he had on offer, unable to wipe the blinding smile on his face.
He faced the crowd with teary eyes as he found himself met with a standing ovation.
Even Phil clapped for Yoshi, looking back at him from the mic stand.
Phil motioned to the microphone.
Yoshi frowned at him and did the same.
Laughter bloomed from the crowd as the two of them waged a silent war, until Phil eventually gave in and stepped up to the microphone.
Yoshi came to a stop next to him, and the applause died down as Phil gave his thanks, rushing through it, as if what Yoshi had to say was more important.
But Yoshi was fine. With a calm hand in his pocket, he was unable to stop his gaze from traveling down to Aria. She stood, looking stunning in that gold sequined dress, with her hands cradled over her heart. Every other second, she slapped away tears before placing her hands back over her heart.
“I love you,” he mouthed, matching the glorious smile that spread over her tear-filled face. Just in case she didn’t get it, he lifted his eyebrows high, motioning to her with his Grammy. He moved his lips slower. “I. Love. You.”
He didn’t miss the way most of the guests in their section smiled warmly at Carmen, assuming she was the receiver of Yoshi’s whispered affections. A woman in the row behind Carmen even reached forward and squeezed her shoulder. Grammy production staff made the same assumption, because a cameraman had zeroed in on Carmen in seconds, filming her reaction. She kept a smile on her face like a pro, even though her eyes screamed that she knew who Yoshi was really speaking to.
“I. Love. You,” Aria mouthed from the crowd, too emotional, proud, and utterly oblivious to anything other than the man on stage to realize what was happening around her.
Yoshi licked his lips at her, fantasizing about all the filthy things he was going to do to her once he got her back to their mansion in the hills. He didn’t even notice Phil finishing his speech until the man placed a hand on his back, pushing him towards the microphone.
Yoshi kept his eyes on Aria, feeling them growing moist with his own emotion. “Man, there are so many people I need to thank tonight.” His mind wasn’t racing; in fact, it was zeroed in on one person. One girl. The only girl who mattered. Thinking any other name but ‘Aria’ proved difficult in that moment, leaving him a stuttering fool as he smiled down at her. “Uh, um… my manager. Gus VanSant.” He said a silent prayer of thanks when his mind recovered, breaking his gaze away from Aria for the first time to motion to Gus, who brought prayer hands to his lips, shaking his head at Yoshi with a smile. “Simon Brady, my brother Phillip Gold…” Yoshi motioned over his shoulder to Phil. “My producer, Ari Lawrence. Thank you for everything. Lastly, I want to dedicate this award to…” He paused, catching Aria’s eyes again, locking onto the blue eye that she hadn’t covered up in months. “I want to dedicate this award, and this amazing night, to my Bo.”
Once again, assuming he meant ‘beau,’ the woman behind Carmen reached in to shake her shoulder excitedly. Even as Carmen ke
pt that sweet smile plastered on her face for the camera that cut to her again, her eyes definitely weren’t smiling, but filled with fury. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her smiling lips went tight.
Yoshi continued, his voice shaking with emotion. “Bo, I write for you. I sing for you. This album belongs to you more than it will ever belong to me. I love you more than anything.” Yoshi winked at Aria before lifting his eyes back to the smiling crowd. He held the Grammy high. “Thank you so much!”
--
“I write for you.”
“I sing for you.”
“This album belongs to you more than it will ever belong to me.”
Carmen’s teeth tightened. They shifted. They ground until she was sure they’d shred like parmesan cheese. Yoshi’s arm was snaked around her waist, but his fingers didn’t finish the job, lying like a dead fish. As she worked overtime to keep the smile plastered to her face, it took every ounce of will she had not to tighten his fingers around her, to get his hand on her properly. She knew it would be a lost cause.
The official Grammy after-party boasted five thousand guests, and the Los Angeles Convention center was filled to the gills with the who’s who of Hollywood. The colorful carnival theme was heart-poundingly vibrant. It reminded Carmen of her favorite stop on Yoshi’s tour, Rio de Janeiro. The guests, most of them already inebriated, danced the night away to a flurry of hits from the winners and runners-up from the night’s event.
Instead of enjoying her beautiful surroundings, her teeth gnawed harder.
Did he have any idea how many hours she’d spent in the makeup chair in preparation for this evening? How many days she’d gone without eating to squeeze her body into that skintight yellow canary gown? Did he have any idea how difficult it was for a woman to pull off this color?
Clearly, he didn’t, because as he pulled her through the bustling party, from one celebrity to the next, one executive to the next, with that limp hand around her waist, he struggled to keep his eyes off that wonky-eyed, dark-skinned girl across the room. Even as he accepted never-ending streams of congratulations from some of the most important people in the industry, with the baddest bitch on his arm, he couldn’t move his eyes from her.
Her.
Carmen felt her blood boiling when he began staring so obsessively that even she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Aria.
From his Bo.
Not his beau.
But his Bo.
If one more person gushed to her about how lucky she’d been to be on the receiving end of that Grammy dedication, how it was so clear how much he loved her, how it had been shooting out of his eyes like fireworks from the top of the stage, she was going to scream.
Literally scream.
She blinked back to the present when Simon appeared before them, his eyes wide like saucers.
“Yoshi, I need you. Now. The NFL’s Director of Entertainment just walked in… and he’s looking for you.”
For the first time that night, Yoshi’s fingers tightened around her waist. He choked out a response, every word slow and astonished. “The NFL’s…”
“Director of Entertainment,” Simon finished in rapid fire. “Let’s go. Now. Carmen…” His wide eyes hit hers. “Stay here. We’ll be back shortly.”
Carmen went to object, but Simon inserted himself between her and Yoshi, breaking their hold before she could say another word. She watched them go with her mouth open.
The Director of Entertainment for the NFL could only want to speak to Yoshi for one thing.
Instead of feeling proud of him, excited for him, celebratory for him, all she could hear were his words from earlier that night.
“I write for you.”
“I sing for you.”
“This album belongs to you…”
Her skin went clammy. Her heart gave one ferocious pound against her ribcage and then plummeted to her feet. She couldn’t breathe. After looking across the booming party and catching sight of Aria’s smiling face, Carmen was soon moving through the crowd, unapologetic as she elbowed her way across the room, forcing herself between dancing and conversing couples until she stood before Aria and Kimmy, who Carmen knew as Phillip Gold’s wife.
They were leaning against the bar in the far corner of the room, facing the crowd, engrossed in conversation.
Kimmy was the first to notice Carmen, standing tall and lowering the cocktail she had in her hand. Her brown eyes widened, prompting Aria to look at Carmen as well, wondering what had caught Kimmy’s attention.
“Carmen.” Aria smiled.
Her smile was sweet and genuine. Warm. Not the least bit threatened or irritated, even though Carmen had been hanging from her boyfriend’s arm all night.
Carmen’s heart leapt up from where it had been dragging behind her on the floor, reinserting itself into her ribcage just so it could give her another solid jab. One more ferocious pound. It smashed against her chest and then fell to the floor again.
She gasped in a breath.
“Is everything okay?” Aria asked.
“Just wanted to come say hello,” Carmen managed to get out, swallowing back the lump in her throat. “And to congratulate you on the album.”
Kimmy frowned at Carmen, confused. In the next instant, a party-goer approached her and whispered something in her ear. Kimmy promised Aria she would be right back before allowing herself to be dragged away.
Aria watched her go.
Carmen came up next to her, taking Kimmy’s place.
“Why would you congratulate me? That album is all his,” Aria said, responding to Carmen’s earlier statement.
“Well, he did dedicate it to you.”
“No matter what he says, I had nothing to do with it. He doesn’t give himself enough credit. I didn’t write the beautiful songs or produce the perfect album. I just show up and sing the background harmonies.”
“I hope your voice is doing better,” Carmen said. “Word’s been getting around the tour that you’ve been having problems?”
For the first time, the smile on Aria’s face wavered, and Carmen felt her heart piecing itself back together.
Aria cleared her throat. “We’re looking into it. Yoshi’s already set up an appointment with the best doctor in the city. He specializes in voice disorders.”
“I guess that’s one of the perks of being the girlfriend of the talent. Any other background vocalist would’ve been thrown out on their ass by now. But not you.”
Aria shot her a look.
Carmen pretended not to see it, nodding across the party where Yoshi was shaking hands with a middle-aged man. He had shock-white hair and was dressed to the nines. Yoshi said something that prompted the man to throw his head back with laughter.
“That guy who’s hand Yoshi just shook? He works for the NFL.”
Aria followed Carmen’s eyes.
“Director of Entertainment. He heads the panel that chooses the performers of the Super Bowl’s halftime show.”
“Oh, my God.” Aria’s eyes were shining with pride.
“If Yoshi lands it, he’ll be the first artist in history to be invited to the Super Bowl off one album alone.” Her voice lowered. “This is why I always tell you what a great girlfriend you are. So selfless. So understanding. You understand that this kind of history can’t be made for a man with a black girl on his arm.”
Carmen saw the moment the air left Aria’s lungs. From the corner of her eye, she saw her chest rise.
“I mean, not a black girl of your skin tone, anyway. Me…” She stretched out her arm and twirled it. “I’m fine. Hell, if you took a photo of my hand next to a white woman’s, you’d never guess I had a drop of black in me. But you….”
Carmen snuck a look at Aria’s tightened jaw, her chest—which had come to a rapid stop—and her fingers, clenched around her cocktail glass so tightly it looked in danger of shattering.
“So very understanding,” Carmen nudged her, which made Aria blink back to the present.
Aria’s eyelids fluttered against the moisture accumulating in her eyes, which were still riveted to Yoshi, who laughed with the NFL Director across the room.
Carmen lowered her voice. “God, if it were me, and it were my boyfriend who was hiding me away in the shadows, taking me to secluded islands in the Maldives where no one would recognize me, wrapping some lime-green band around my ring finger under the guise of sentimentality, all the while telling me how much he loves me…” She scoffed. “I would go batshit crazy.”
Aria blinked out the first tear, licking her lips softly. “Why are you doing this?”
Carmen gasped, reaching out and covering her arm. “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I’ve…” She turned towards the bar and set her drink down. “I’ve upset you. I thought you knew what this was all about.”
For the first time, Aria looked at her, another tear racing down her cheek.
Carmen tilted her head. “Oh, gosh… He never told you.” She covered her heart with her hand, looking towards Yoshi with eyes of disbelief. “He never told you the real reason….”
Aria swept her arm away and pushed off the bar before Carmen could finish.
The sorrow vanished from Carmen’s face as Aria raced away.
She leaned back with her elbows on the bar, watching her go, and a slow smile crept to her lips.
16
Aria slammed her eyes closed when she heard the car pulling up in the driveway in the middle of the night. Another tear escaped her sopping wet lashes the moment she did. In the last few hours, she hadn’t been able to close her eyes, or even blink, without another stream of moisture rolling down her cheeks. She leaned forward on the pool chair, still in her gold dress, glaring out at the Hollywood sign. It seemed close enough to touch, perched on the hills above the mansions across the street. Beside it, breathtaking homes lined the famous Hollywood Hills, down a valley that seemed to go on forever, tracing a path of greenery that eventually melted into the city, all the way to the gritty Los Angeles skyline.
Encore (Stereo Hearts Book 2) Page 21
