In Harmony

by JN Welsh

  “Oh, Evan asked me out.” Gladys dropped it as casually as she lifted her fork to her mouth.

  Nyah choked on her food. She reached for her glass of rum punch and took a gulp to clear her throat. “What?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Nyah wiped her mouth with her napkin. “I knew he liked you. So when are you two going out?”

  “We’re not. I turned him down.” Gladys rolled her tongue in her cheek.

  “Stop. Why?” Nyah asked.

  “Because he’s Evan and I just can’t right now.” Gladys mixed her rice around on her plate.

  “Gladys?” Nyah had to agree that Evan’s personality had some rough edges and wasn’t one she appreciated half of the time, but beneath it all he wasn’t a bad guy. He just found it impossible to hide his feelings when it came to Gladys.

  “If he really likes me, he can wait a little bit.” Gladys smirked.

  Nyah pointed her slender pinky at Gladys. “I see you. You’re playing hard to get.”

  “I gave him some goal posts to hit. If he does well, we’ll go out.”

  “Oh my goodness. Like what?” Nyah moved closer to Gladys.

  “Checking his ego for one. Being nicer.”

  “Gladys. You can’t change him. It’s either you like him or you don’t.”

  “I think he has potential, but he needs improvement.” Gladys may have been nonchalant but the way she bit her lip and suppressed her smile showed she really liked Evan.

  Nyah giggled. “I cannot wait to see how this pans out. What if you get London?”

  “He can visit.” Gladys scoffed. “I mean, we haven’t even gone on one date yet.”

  “But you like him. Admit it, you like him.”

  Gladys chewed her lip. “I guess.”

  Nyah grabbed at the air in front of her. “I’ll take it.”

  “How are things with you and Tommy?” Gladys asked.

  Nyah hadn’t found the courage to clarify Tommy’s role, which would mean outing her dual life to Gladys, and things were getting more complicated. Nyah’s mouth hadn’t been the same since it had met Tommy’s. However, her desires were only contained by distance and the fact that Tommy’s very existence and profession reminded her of Carlo and his cavalier handling of the DJ career she held dear.

  “We were thinking of going away for a few days together.” Internally Nyah smothered her face, like the emoji. She really needed to fess up, and soon. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m bringing it up.” Nyah left out a lot of details about this trip, but still, having a friend to talk to who was part of her other life had its benefits.

  “That sounds like a great idea.

  “I think it’s too soon and I should be here suffering.” Even with the rollercoaster events of the past few days, she found herself replaying their kiss, and how powerful he’d felt between her legs when she’d jumped on him in excitement over Artistique.

  “Oh, come on. It’s not too soon. You’re right on schedule. This is where you find out if he puts the seat down and brings you a cup of coffee after a disagreement and if you can even stand each other after twenty-four hours together,” Gladys rambled.

  “You know how hard it is for me to date. Maybe I don’t really want someone like Tommy muddling my life.”

  “Maybe he can muddle it into a lovely mojito or caipirinha?”

  Gladys offered this with the innocence of someone who only knew half the life of her close friend. After what Nyah had been through with Carlo, she’d dissected her life into decisive parts. When she’d first met Tommy, she’d stressed her need to stay incognito. Her need to hide her identities in order to be successful was likely part of the reason she was single. Tommy’s knowledge of both sides of her life made her feel defenseless, scared and alive all at the same time, professionally but especially personally.

  If you only knew, my friend. “Well—”

  “Bah-bah-bah. Why can’t he enhance it? You know how I feel about you and your love life. I’m thrilled that you found Tommy, even though you’ve told me this much.” Gladys pinched her index finger and thumb together. “Are you hiding some odd kink of his or something?”

  “No.” Nyah chuckled. “It’s just new still. I don’t want to make him a bigger part of my life in case things don’t work out.” Wow! Best bullshit I’ve come up with in weeks. Funny thing was that the bullshit rang true.

  “I hear you. Do you trust him? Because you know that’s a big deal breaker.”

  “I don’t not trust him,” Nyah said.

  “We need to go out. When you feel comfortable, we’ll all go out for drinks or something.”

  “Yeah, with Evan,” Nyah threw back at her.

  “Uh...okay.” Gladys was no closer to a commitment with Evan than she had been when she’d dropped her bomb earlier.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Back to you. I think you should go on this trip with Tommy. YOLO.” Gladys raised her hands in the air like the fans at Queen Roe’s shows.

  “That came out of nowhere.”

  “I want you to give this a chance. We have to be able to find a balance with our demanding musician life. Just make sure to carry your bass and practice for when you come back. The last thing you want to do is show up sloppy on the fundys. Martin already has you on his shit list.”

  Nyah threw a napkin at Gladys. “Thanks.”

  “I’m just looking out for you, girl.” Gladys raised her glass and encouraged Nyah to do the same. “Cheers to you, girl. May all your ups and downs be between the sheets.”

  “Cheers,” Nyah said through laughter that busted from her gut. They clinked glasses and Nyah drained the rest of her drink and ordered another.

  Her evening out with Gladys had not only cheered her up but given her some insight. She had two careers and though she had fears of doing something to tilt the balance she tried to maintain, during the suspension she had free range to focus on her DJ career. She could stay in New York and stick to what she knew or she could venture out and take advantage of the time she had been given, no matter how much she wished she could turn back the time and make her philharmonic call time. It was only when she and Gladys were walking to the 4-train subway station that she realized she’d made her decision. She’d play Oh Ship, but Tommy was off limits.

  Holy shit.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nyah glided her rotational luggage by her side with her portable double bass strapped to her back. The massive cruise ship nestled in the ocean at Port Canaveral awaited her. Time to walk the plank. She climbed up the ramp. The fans were already wild with booze or substances and the music blared from the deck with the sounds of the hottest hit from the summer. “Love Me Love You” by Bedazzled Beats featuring Tekko, Rob Ready and Zazzle. The song by Tommy’s most recent successful clients only proved to remind her of Tommy’s influence, ambition, and success. She had swapped the hectic city vibe for an even more wild and self-contained one.

  She shouldn’t have agreed to this. Once she set foot on the ship she’d be trapped. Between the drones whirring overhead to capture the live action and the cameras and film crews lurking around and adding to the media kit for post cruise highlights, this was more exposure than Nyah had had in a very long time. Still, the excitement of performing to a new demographic of fans energized her steps enough to keep moving forward. She and Tommy would only be on the cruise for three days together before they docked in the Bahamas and returned home. The ship would then sail on to Punta Cana.

  Tommy waited for her at the entrance in casual shirt and slacks, and she didn’t miss her city or her apartment as much as she had a few seconds ago. He wore a dark pair of gold-rimmed shades that only showed off the brown in his hair. He handed over his luggage to the attendant and the daylight highlighted his defined arm through his ivory-colored linen shirt. She wanted to be in his arms again and experience a long
er hug than the one he’d given her the last time. The reasons she’d bulleted as to why she and Tommy were a bad idea seemed to cross themselves off the list every time his behavior contradicted whatever she thought of him, like the fact that he actually cared about his artists, even though the jury was still out on whether or not he cared about her as a person.

  “Hi,” Tommy greeted her. “How was your flight?”

  “Early.” Nyah groaned, remembering the early flight she’d opted to take rather than spend the night at a hotel close by the port.

  “You had a choice.” His not so subtle “I told you so” lacked any negativity.

  “True.” She agreed. “Don’t let me choose that poorly ever again.”

  “Noted.” He took her rolling luggage from her. “Glad to see you ditched your coat.”

  Along with carrying her luggage, he draped her coat over his arm. “The weather’s much nicer here.” She stated the obvious, folded her coat, and stuffed it into the attached carryon bag. She felt comfortable in her white sleeveless fitted midriff tank top and high-waisted jeans but with the rising sun she’d be ready for less clothes in an hour.

  “Need anything in here for the next few hours?” Tommy asked as he handed her luggage over to the attendant to be taken to their rooms.

  “No, I’m all set.”

  “Your artist pass and key.” Tommy handed her a black lanyard badge and envelope. His friendly greeting carried a detachment that she’d noted in their last meeting at the café. That was, until she’d had a meltdown about her suspension. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted? Everything in its place and behaving as expected? “Let’s get familiar with our home for the next few days,” he added.

  Bodies ready to discard their clothes, soak up the sun, get trashed, and absorb a marathon of musical performances trotted through the corridors, pulling her from her thoughts. As artists and agents, she and Tommy had been let on the ship via a separate entrance, but so were VIP guests and fans that looked no different from general ship population. Tommy accompanied her and they were quickly led through security and directed on board.

  She liked being close to Tommy and reminded herself that she’d come to work. She’d already made the hard choice of crossing fucking him off of her checklist, but the way he somehow continued to make her heart patter didn’t give her much of a shield to protect against that sweet smile, smooth eyebrows, and great hair. She’d often seen him as this driven-at-all-costs kind of guy but when she’d seen him interact with his clients, he reminded her of a dad looking out for his kids on the circuit. It was endearing. Endearing and dangerous.

  After Artistique would she be so pliable to his suggestions? She’d already done what she didn’t think she’d do for him. She was on Oh Ship, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t a festival, per se, but everyone knew Oh Ship and many big names had sailed the seas, blaring EDM to the marine life under the sea. Would she be able to keep her celebrity contained? Without the philharmonic performances hovering, she didn’t have that to use as an excuse for anything. What that freedom did was bring up some of the cacophonous concerns she’d muted. For a millisecond she thought about giving a shitty performance, but her early performances, that had been criticized and compared to her father’s, replayed in her mind. Back then, disappointment of being left out on a limb to either balance or plummet to the ground knotted her stomach. She’d never put herself or the fans through that again, intentional or not. The Oh Ship fans had paid money for a cruise devoted to EDM and Nyah neither had the heart, nor the lack of integrity or professionalism, to fuck it up. She vowed once and for all to give these people her best.

  “Wanna drink?” Tommy slowed by one of the attendants holding a tray of blue, pink and yellow liquid in bowl-like glasses.

  Hands free, and already overstimulated by the surrounding color, sights, and sounds on an already fatigued brain, she struggled to decide. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I’ve been up since three to make all this magic happen.” She circled a spread hand around herself. “Coffee might be better.”

  “Coffee,” Tommy ordered from the bartender.

  “With a splash of cognac, please,” she added.

  “Ah,” he said to her. “A carajillo. My aunt drank hers with Ron Barcelo rum. She’d have it with her dessert.” His smile faltered and he struggled to get it back.

  She couldn’t shake the feeling that what he had shared was important in some way. And though sunglasses shielded his eyes, something in his voice rang of sadness. Her heart raced at the thought of him hurting in any way and she pivoted. “Smart woman. Might as well be awake and somewhat twisted. I don’t perform until tomorrow afternoon on the pool deck. Most I’ll do is catch some sun and some Zs.”

  He recovered effortlessly. “You’re bullshittin’ me. You’re on a cruise. Go see a DJ or a show. Jump into the pool or go dancing. Make some friends.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I appreciate the suggestions, but I don’t know.”

  “Why? You have the VIP pass. Have a meal, mountain climb, do that surfing shit. Maybe go to the spa, get a massage, and a happy ending if your masseuse is willing.”

  “Tommy!” She blushed so hard she could have been a tomato.

  “Just making sure you’re listening.” He gave her that smile that left her defenseless against his magnetism.

  “I’m listening.” With any luck her face wasn’t as colorful as her tinted sunglasses.

  “All I’m saying is to have a little fun while you’re here. It can’t hurt to enjoy yourself. Can it?”

  “I guess not.”

  “I have to make a few calls before we do the safety check. You okay here on your own?”

  She smirked. “I’m not five, man. I’m good.”

  He smiled. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  Nyah enjoyed the banter between them, and commanded herself to chill and yes, have a little bit of fun. She eased onto a stool, sipping her coffee, the heated cognac clearing her sinuses like a menthol vapor rub. She was glad that Tommy’s spirits had leveled up again. Now that her initial curiosity about what caused the downturn in his mood was growing, she wanted to know more. The deck buzzed with pre-sail-away excitement. No sooner did Tommy leave than the bees swarmed. She’d often met men who used her as arm candy, until she started to talk about things they didn’t have the levels or the interest to verbally spar with her. She blamed her height, made higher with her three-inch wedge sneakers that only lengthened her legs more. With those, along with her huge Afro puffs, she couldn’t be missed. Most dudes taunted, blew kisses, and kept it moving, with the exception of one bee that plopped down in the seat right next to her.

  “Hey, beautiful, you’re going to stick to that old lady drink or can I get you something stronger? I mean, I’m not saying that coffee’s not a good choice to stay amped, but thought I’d ask.”

  “I’ll stick with this for the time being.” She kept her hand over her coffee as she held it and sipped.

  “I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the bartender.

  Her chuckle was lighter than the steam warming her palm. “Sure you can handle a little cup of coffee?”

  “I can handle it.” His attempt at flirting, though cute, didn’t quite move her, but he seemed harmless enough.

  Play at your own risk, sir.

  The bartender set a short cup of coffee in front of her gentleman caller and when he brought it to his lips, his eyes blinked several times. “You turned up your caffeine. I’m down with that.” He took a sip and immediately started sneezing. “I underestimated your alcohol game.”

  “Facts. You’re not the first.” She pinched a napkin from the holder and flagged it to him. “You okay?”

  “Getting there.” He coughed into the napkin. “I’m Irwin.”

  “Nice to meet you, Irwin.” When she didn’t immediately serve up information, he asked, “So what’s your n
ame?”

  “My friends call me Queen but you can call me Roe.”

  His jaw dropped. “Oh shit, you’re Queen Roe. I heard you play at The Boiler a few weeks ago. Everyone says Rebel is your home but that set was tight.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

  She waved him off. “It’s cool. Glad I blend.”

  “You’ll be performing here, right?” Irwin’s excitement enlivened his entire body.

  “Yeah, tomorrow. I hope you’ll come through.”

  “Hell yeah! I’m pumped. You’re the real deal.” He watched her for a few seconds and she was hip to this pick-up game to sense the courage he summoned to shoot his shot. “You’ll probably be partying with the bigwigs, but maybe you want to hang out by the pool. I could buy you a drink or something,” Irwin said.

  He was not blessed with game, but Nyah appreciated the effort. She was about to tell him so when Tommy returned. Her agent’s movements stiffened as he approached.

  “I see you took one of my suggestions.” Tommy’s body blocked the sun like a sequoia and Nyah could have sworn that he’d also grown to the size of one, by the way he towered over both her and Irwin.

  “Friend of yours?” Irwin asked.

  “My agen—” Nyah was about to explain.

  “I’m a friend of hers.” Tommy pointed to the stool under Irwin’s ass. “That’s my seat.”

  “Oh, my bad.” Irwin made little attempt to rise to his feet.

  “Boombox? Irwin? Meet each other.” She made the introductions.

  “For real? You’re Tommy “Boombox?” Irwin scrambled out of the chair and Nyah respected Irwin’s investment as a fan. He probably knew more industry people on the cruise than she did.

  “You sure know a lot about everyone here, Irwin,” Nyah noted.

  “Are you with the press?” Tommy asked as he claimed his seat next to her.

  “Nah, I live for EDM so I make it a point to know, like, everything. I used my whole winter savings to do a VIP ticket so I could meet the artists and stuff. My friends, too.”