A Malibu Kind of Romance

by Synithia Williams

  Missy put her hand in Dante’s. Julie wanted to slap Missy’s hands out of Dante’s.

  “Looks like my chances are slim,” Raymond said. “Not surprising. I overheard Otis telling Dante he should get back with Missy. He says it’ll be good for business.”

  “Did he agree?”

  “He didn’t disagree,” Raymond said.

  Julie swallowed hard. Lifting her chin, she pushed away the hurt. This was for the best.

  She zeroed in on Dante and Missy. Dante looked at her briefly, then turned to lead Missy into the dining area. You pushed him away. Men like Dante don’t sulk.

  “We should go,” Julie said, dismissing the thought. Raymond nodded and put his hand on her lower back again to escort her to the dining room.

  * * *

  Jealousy seared through Dante’s gut like battery acid, preventing him from enjoying the meal. He felt like he was in some crazy parallel universe. Julie on Raymond’s arm, laughing with him like they were...well, old friends. Him, entertaining Missy after his dad mentioned, after the fact, that he’d invited the Robersons to dinner. In a heartbeat, he and Julie had gone from lovers to this distant business-friendly relationship.

  “Dante,” Otis said. “Despite the fight, I heard good things about the song you did at your party.”

  Dante snapped his mind out of the clouds and focused on his father. “I’ll admit that even I was surprised at how much they liked my collaboration with S.A.F. I’m sure an album with them will be hot.”

  Otis scowled. “I’m not talking about that. I mean your collaboration with Antwan.”

  Missy ran her fingers over Dante’s arm. “It’s hot, Dante, just like you.”

  Dante gripped the fork in his hand. “I’m not going to do the album with Antwan.”

  Otis leaned back in his chair. “Yes, you are. We’ve already started promoting the upcoming collaboration. You need to do everything you can to keep the momentum going.” He looked meaningfully between Dante and Missy.

  Dante knew the meaning behind that look, and understood the reason the Robersons and Missy were at dinner. An album with Antwan combined with a reunion between Dante and Missy would mean the federal government couldn’t print money fast enough to keep up with the sales.

  Dante glanced at Julie, but she studied her food. He wondered if seeing him with Missy caused the same battery-acid corrosion of her insides that he felt when he thought of her with Raymond.

  “I’m not interested in owning the charts. I’m ready to do my own thing, including the nightclub.”

  “Don’t you care anything about our family’s legacy?” Otis vented.

  Dante looked back at his father. “You know that I do.”

  “Building and holding a legacy takes planning. You’ve got to lay the groundwork. One year—hell, six months without proving that you belong at the top is enough time to make others forget your contribution to the music industry.”

  Vivica leaned forward. “Your father is right, Dante. After your sister’s last album, we need to do whatever it takes to remind people that the Wilson legacy is still strong.”

  Star flinched but didn’t disagree. Dante hated to see how she just took her parents using her failed album as putting them on the cusp of ruin.

  “People love a comeback,” Dante said. “When Star puts out new music, then they’ll love her, and no one will care about that one album.”

  Star smirked. “That’s not true, Dante, and you know it. They’ll move on, but they’ll never forget. We need a big splash to remind people why W. M. Records is at the top. I agree with Dad—you should do the album with Antwan.”

  Dante looked to Missy. “What do you think?”

  The smile on her beautiful face made most men lose their ability to speak. “I support you in everything you do, Dante.” Her hand rubbed his arm, and she lowered her eyes prettily. “But I do agree with your family. I know your little project is important, and you can still dabble in that after doing the song with Antwan.” She lifted her eyes and dropped her hand to his knee. “Then we can collaborate again. I miss working with you.”

  Her tone implied that she missed a lot more than a musical collaboration. Dante shifted until her hand fell away from his knee. He glanced again at Julie, but this time, she was studying the art on the wall. He’d think she didn’t care if her jaw wasn’t clenched so tight. Hope blossomed in his chest. She was jealous, and if she were jealous, that meant she had to care.

  “That’s nice, Missy, but I want someone who’ll support me, my new music and my plans. Not just encourage me to do the same thing over and over.”

  Star grunted. “Dante, don’t be crazy. You saw how the press obliterated me after this last album.”

  Dante turned to his sister. “That’s because you were insincere. You were trying to be something you’re not, and people saw that.”

  “Wouldn’t you be doing the same with this album?”

  Julie made a noise, and everyone looked her way. She glanced around the table, then met Dante’s eyes. “No, he wouldn’t. I’ve heard the music and seen him perform with S.A.F. Dante’s really into this sound—you can hear it, feel his intensity with every note. It’s not the same as his other music. It’s more real. More him.”

  A swirl of emotion Dante was too unfamiliar with to name rose in his chest. That’s why he wanted her.

  Otis grunted. “That’s a nice sentiment, Ms. Dominick, but sentiment isn’t what sells music.”

  “I’d disagree,” Julie said. “Music speaks to people. A song can make you laugh, cry, fall in love. Music is nothing but a mixture of various sentiments, and that’s what makes you love an artist. If their music pulls at something deep inside of you, you never forget. When you hear the same emotions you’re struggling with in one of their songs, it becomes your favorite.”

  Otis raised his chin and regarded Julie for several seconds. “I can’t disagree with you on that.”

  “Then would you agree that if Dante does music with Antwan, even though he doesn’t want to, people may notice the disconnection?”

  Otis’s eyes narrowed. “Well said, Ms. Dominick.”

  “Julie,” she said, raising her chin.

  Otis watched her for a second, then turned back to Dante. “Did I tell you that I saw Octavia Quinn in New York last week?” Otis said, referring to another music producer.

  Dante let his dad change the subject. For Otis to do so meant he needed to consider Julie’s point. The argument with Otis wasn’t over, but Julie had given him another weapon in the war. Dante glanced at her and gave her a thankful smile. Her quick argument had probably done more to make his case than anything he could have ever said to his own father. Otis loved his kids, but he also was used to running their lives, especially when it came to music.

  Missy shifted at his side, and placed her hand on his knee again. Julie turned to talk to Raymond, and in that beat, the connection was gone.

  Chapter 19

  “I appreciate the way you stood up for my son in there,” Otis said as they left the dining room and walked into the sitting room. He stopped her at the door. “You must really care about him.”

  “Caring has nothing to do with it. Like I said to Star, I admire those who are willing to go after their dreams.”

  Otis nodded. “I work with Nexon-Jones, and I know why you really left.”

  “What is it that you think you know?”

  “That you brought up a complaint against the owner after he offered you a project if you were willing to sleep with the client.”

  “A project isn’t worth my self-respect.”

  “Because of that, I don’t believe the rumors that you’re out here because there’s something going on between you and Dante. I need you to remember that you are his business partner only. While I appreciate you
r willingness to step in and offer your support, at the end of the day, Dante always does what’s right for the family. He’ll make the album with Antwan, and he’ll get back together with Missy. Both are good for business, despite any sentiments that may temporarily distract him.”

  The words had their desired effect. She was just a temporary person in Dante’s life. Her small amount of support while she was out here would not change a lifetime of choices. People didn’t change unless they wanted to, and Dante had given no real signs that he wanted to change his lifestyle. He just accused her of not being truthful about what she wanted.

  “I’m very aware of that. I’m here to get the nightclub opened. Whatever happens after that is up to Dante.”

  She nodded at Otis and walked farther into the room. Dante watched her from where he stood with Missy. The beautiful singer talked, but he didn’t appear to be listening. There was something different in his eyes as he watched her. Something she wanted to believe was an emotion deeper than lust. But she knew the rules. She’d stood up for him, and now he was grateful.

  She was ready to go back to her hotel room and try not to think about how her unavailability left plenty of room for Missy to snuggle up in his bed. She walked over to Dante and Missy. “I’m going to leave now. Thank you for inviting me to dinner.”

  Dante frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, it’s been a long week, and I’m tired.”

  Raymond came over. “Julie, you’re leaving. I can give you a ride back to your hotel.”

  Julie shook her head. “No need, I drove.”

  “Before you go, do you have a few minutes? I want to talk to you about the opening,” Dante said.

  She’d given him an update yesterday and was about to refuse when Missy shifted closer to Dante and stared at him with barely disguised lust. Looks like Raymond’s hopes are dashed.

  “Sure, let’s talk,” Julie said.

  “We can talk in my office.” He stepped away from Missy. “Just give us a few minutes.”

  “Hurry back,” Missy said.

  Julie followed Dante out of the sitting room and into his office down the hall, a room with gleaming modern furniture, a high-end computer and posters of his album covers on the wall, including the one with him in nothing but a pair of boxers. The album was titled Sex, and it was released when she was nineteen. She’d drooled over that picture too many times that year.

  Julie didn’t go far into the room and stood right inside the door. Dante pushed the door closed and leaned his hand against the wood. He watched her, his dark eyes swimming with what made her want to be his girl.

  “What did you want to know?” She took a step backward.

  “That was an excuse to get you in here. Thank you for what you said at dinner.”

  Julie shrugged. “I’m nothing if not honest.”

  “That you are. Even though you’ve been to the studio and listened to us play, I hadn’t realized you felt that way about my music.”

  He leaned forward and stared at her.

  “I love your music. The music you’re making is beautiful, vibrant and full of everything that makes you who you are.”

  “I put everything I have into my music.” He crossed his arms and leaned on the door. “Sometimes I think about the arguments my dad makes. I don’t want to do the same mainstream stuff everyone else is doing, but I don’t know what to do if I fail.”

  “They are right. Your song with Antwan is hot, so you still have some spark for what you’ve been doing.”

  “That’s because I love music. Early in my career, everything was new. I didn’t care much as long as I got the next hit, owned the charts—” he met her eye “—landed the girls. Now it’s not so much about that. I still care about my brand, but I’ve fallen in love with the actual creativity of my job again. Now that I’ve rediscovered my love of creating something, I don’t know if I can give it up.”

  He sounded so conflicted, as if he had already accepted that he would have to give up his dream. As someone who understood how hard fighting for success could be, she reached out and cupped his face in her hands. Dante blinked and focused his dark eyes on her. “Then don’t give up.”

  The smile he gave her was small, sad. “It’s easier to believe I can do this when you’re around. When you leave, it’ll be the status quo again.”

  “You started this before I ever came into your life. You’ll finish when I’m gone.”

  She pulled her hand back. His shot out to gently grab her wrist. He pulled her against him. Julie pressed her palm to his hard chest. The heavy beat of his heart tapped against her palm, every vibration resonating through her body.

  “I meant what I said the other day. Don’t talk about leaving as if it were nothing.” His hand gripped her waist, holding her closer until the heat of his body seeped into her bones.

  “I never said leaving you would be easy.”

  Dante shifted forward, his chest brushing the hardening tips of her breasts. His warm hand released her wrist to brush against her jaw. Julie’s heart thudded, pumping blood through her in quick spurts.

  “No rules, no games, just the truth. You don’t like me saying I want you to be my girl, fine—I won’t say that. But I do want you, Julie. You can argue all day about wanting some quiet life with some quiet guy who’s squeaky-clean, but that won’t satisfy you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because there is fire and fight in you. You’d eat a guy like that up, then spit him out in no time. You need a guy who isn’t going to back down when you toe the line and won’t let you use excuses to talk yourself out of going for what you want.”

  “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean you’re the right guy.”

  “Maybe I’m not. I can’t say for sure that I’m your forever guy, but I know one thing—if we don’t try to make this work, we’ll both regret it.”

  “You won’t have time to regret it. Raymond overheard your dad saying he wants you and Missy back together. Otis repeated same thing to me.”

  “My dad said that to you?”

  “Yes. See, you’ve already got your rebound set up. I’m moving aside with no drama. You’re free to be with Missy.”

  She tried to step away, but his grip tightened on her waist. He pulled her forward, his eyes flashing with desire. “I’m not begging Missy to be with me right now, am I? No games, no rules, just honesty. Tell me right now, Julie, that you don’t want to give this a try.”

  She shook her head and looked away. “I don’t want to—”

  He cut her off with a kiss. The lie she was about to tell was forgotten, no longer important because his lips were on hers. No matter how hard she tried to control her cravings for this man the second their lips touched nothing else mattered. Her hands clenched his shirt and pulled him closer. His head tilted, and the soft sweep of his tongue against her lips was his sensual demand for more. Julie quickly parted her lips. Her arms lifted to wrap around his neck.

  Only a kiss. That’s all she was going for. His hand on her waist moved to grip her ass and pulled her farther into his body. No way could she walk out that door without more.

  Dante’s strong arm lifted her. Their bodies moved before he set her down on the top of the table next to the door. Vaguely, she thought about the room full of people next door, how easily they could get caught and why they should stop. Then his hands were on her breasts. His fingers rubbing and squeezing the heavy flesh, toying with her aching nipples. Julie jerked up his shirt and ran her hands over the hard planes of his stomach. Between slitted lids she watched him in the dim lights. She watched the play of his muscles beneath his shirt, the fire burning in his dark eyes and the urgency of his movements. He wanted her, and in that second, she wished for forever.

  “Dante,” she whispered his name.

  His head rose, and
he brushed his fingers through her short hair. “Julie.” His voice was low, deep, possessive. Long fingers pushed her skirt up and slipped into the side of her panties.

  Eyes rolling upward, Julie’s head fell back, her legs widened. Pulling her head forward with the hand that was in her hair, Dante claimed her mouth with another searing kiss. Julie unbuttoned his pants, freeing him from his briefs. Her fingers wrapped around the hard length before slowly sidling down to gently cup the heavy sac beneath.

  Stepping back only to push down his pants and pull out a condom, Dante slid on the protection, then came back to kiss her. One hand pushed her panties to the side. He positioned himself at her opening, then thrust forward.

  “Mmm, Dante, yes,” she moaned. Her leg wrapped around his waist.

  He gripped her waist with one hand; the other cupped her face. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, while his body pushed in and out. His entire body tensed, humming with the same pleasure that had Julie panting and moaning. He broke the kiss to suck on her neck. Inhaling deeply, he groaned. “Damn, Julie.”

  Hips pumping harder, Dante broke her walls. All the emotions she didn’t want him to expose tumbled around inside her. She was screwed, so royally screwed for falling for a guy like him. A guy that made her want to try to make something work and trusted that they could. Her body shattered in waves of pleasure. Her leg squeezed him tighter, and her vision blurred.

  Dante’s rhythm slowed, then stopped. The world came back into focus. He lifted his head, the triumph in his eyes unmistakable. His hand squeezed her thigh. “Be my lady, Julie. Say you’ll be mine.”

  Her body froze. The words were different, but the situation and the tone all the same—words asking for a forever that came right after sex. Never trust what was said during sex, another rule she followed. Words of love and promises of forever could always be blamed on throes of pleasure, and when brought up later, considered unfair. She’d say yes and think she and Dante could work, only to find him back to his old arrogant ways in no time.

  She pushed Dante away and jumped off the table. When he reached for her, she pulled away.