by JN Welsh
“But I’m your agent.”
“Yeah, but you’re not infallible. You messed up. Lesson learned, right?” she asked.
He nodded. “I still feel shitty about it.”
“Good.” She nudged him on her way to fix her own cup of coffee.
He strolled into the kitchen and planted himself behind her, pressing his body against hers. The smell of stale cologne and coffee filled her senses. “So, what’s for breakfast?” he asked.
“What are you making me?”
“I wasn’t talking about food.”
“I was.” She slipped out of his grip. “You owe me, sir.”
He chuckled but the bulge in his pants couldn’t have been pleased with her. “I see how it is.”
“Yup.” She leaned against the counter. “I like my eggs over easy and my toast medium. You’re in luck.” She raised her coffee mug. “I did some of the work for you.”
“Aight,” he said, and got to work on breakfast. “So now that you’ve had a little distance from last night, how do you feel your performance went?” he asked. “Frying pan?”
“Underneath the counter,” she answered. Last night she’d been thrown into such a heightened situation. She’d been on survival mode the whole time. “Despite the craziness, I performed well. People still wanted to hear me play even when I got offstage. I think that once I started playing, I let the rest fall away.”
“Do you think your fear was because you didn’t know that the crowd had grown that big or because you weren’t good enough?”
She side-eyed him. “Are you trying to psychoanalyze me or what?”
“No.” He pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge. “I just want to know where the breakdown in your performance process happened.”
“I don’t want to sound conceited but I can play. I just didn’t want to be paralyzed by fear from suddenly being thrown into this massive attendance. My first thought, which was, what the fuck are all these people were doing here? My second thought was, I don’t want to disappoint them.”
Tommy coated the hot pan with nonstick spray and then cracked two eggs inside. They sizzled. “Interesting. You have the talent, Nyah. I honestly don’t think that it’s the crowd itself. I think that not knowing the size of the crowd is what bugs you.”
“How do you figure?”
“You performed on Oh Ship and I know for certain that the amount of people you played to on the cruise was more than what attended Rebel last night.”
“No way.”
“No lie.” He pushed his fine ass toward her. “Check my phone. Oscar sent me stats and the media also got confirmed the numbers.”
Nyah faced the phone toward him so he could enter his passcode, and the stats he must have read when he woke up this morning were on the screen. The attendance for her pool deck performance was double what it’d been at Rebel last night. “Oh shit. Really?”
“Really. I think that once you know what you’re getting into, you adjust. It’s the not knowing that brings up those old fears. It’s just a thought. I’m not gaslighting you. It’s just something to think about. It might be why you’re so good at helping Trinket with her stage fright.”
“I never thought about it like that. Maybe.”
He continued preparing their breakfast. “By the way, I know the timing may not be great but you got an invitation from Herman.”
“An invitation to what?”
“To play at the Sunburst Festival. I know you don’t want to play the big festivals but this one is for up-and-coming artists. It’s well attended and fairly selective. I am just relaying the invitation. Do you want me to tell him no?”
She liked that he asked even though she’d explicitly told him that presenting something to her like that would just be a waste of their time. Now, with their recent discussion and the conversation with her father this morning about attending his ceremony, she wasn’t sure that no was her answer.
“I don’t know.”
Tommy put the spatula down and faced her. “Do my ears deceive me? I remember when we first discussed me agenting you that you were adamant about not playing the big festivals.”
“This one isn’t that big. It’s medium. Plus my dad is being honored there and I really should make all my best efforts to go. Even if I might be in London to play with the symphony.”
“So you’re going to go if you get it?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She knew she’d be leaving her friends and family but it was only a month. “It’s something I really want to do.”
“I support you. It’ll just be strange not having you in New York,” he said.
For a year she’d had two objectives. Play at Artistique and get into the BME symphony. Goals change but these were still hers. Then why did her heart pinch at Tommy’s statement? She yanked herself from her thoughts. “Anyway, I guess I’ll need to think about Sunburst.”
“So it’s not a no?”
“Right.”
“Okay, but the clock is ticking on this one so let me know.”
“I will but right now I’m focused on Artistique. I can’t believe that it’s only three weeks away.” She beamed.
“Hey, can you do me a favor and tell Trinket that we’re good. She’s ride or die and hates me. That is, until she gets the word from you that we’re good.”
“I love her. I will.” Nyah laughed. “Speaking about Trinket. You really need to see her perform already. This is ridiculous.”
“Does she even want an agent?” he asked and she saw through his deflection techniques.
“She thinks it’s a pipe dream because of her stage fright but we’ve talked about it and she would love an agent. To have you as her agent would be ah-mazing.”
Tommy rolled his eyes.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“No,” he lied.
“I see you, Mills.” She squinted her eyes and pointed at him. “I’m trying to do you a solid.”
He laughed. “I promised after Artistique. I’ll even make a special trip to New York. I’ll bring Yaz, who might be a better fit for her.”
“You haven’t even seen her play and you’re ready to pass her on to another agent. Boo,” Nyah said.
“That’s not what I meant. I just think two agents are better than one.” He salted and peppered the eggs before flipping them and readying a plate.
“Whatever. Don’t patronize me.”
“I wouldn’t think of it.” He turned the fire off and put two slices of whole grain bread in the toaster. “Do you want butter on your toast?”
“Yes, and strawberry preserves, please.”
He found the items and put them on the small kitchen table along with a few utensils. She liked how easy he moved in the kitchen. Had his mom taught him how to cook, or perhaps his aunt, Carmen? So she asked.
“My mom was always in the kitchen. I remember her and Tia Carmen always making enough food to feed armies. There was always enough in the pot to feed us several times over.”
“What was your favorite thing to eat?”
“My aunt’s rice and beans. I don’t know what this woman did to those beans but they were so flavorful. I could eat a ton of it.” He laughed and she joined him. “I guess both my aunt and my mom taught me. Plus when Oscar and I came home from school and everyone was still at work, I fed us.”
She thought of him younger and her heart warmed. “They did well. You’re great in the kitchen.”
“Thank you.” He slid her eggs onto a plate after the toaster popped and placed the bread on the plate as well. “Your majesty.”
“I like that.” She took the plate from him and sat down at the table. He joined her with his own breakfast.
“More coffee?” He pointed to her cup.
“Yes, please.” He refilled her mug and fixed it how she’d done earli
er and returned with the hot coffee.
“Thank you.”
“Your wish is my command.”
“Come through, genie.” She forked a bite of warm eggs and sopped up the runny yolk with her toast. “Heaven.” She covered her mouth and mumbled through a mouthful of food. “You know I’m going to fuck you after I eat this, don’t you?”
He belly-laughed. “Damn right you are.”
“You earned it.” She didn’t want to assume what was happening between them because if they were going to dive into the deep end, then they better know what expectations they had. “What about what we talked about on the cruise. About just enjoying each other while we were in international waters?”
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Nyah. I’m willing to revisit that promise we made, because this feels different. Doesn’t it?” He reached for her hand and the pleasure of his caress traveled up her arm.
“Yes. It does.” She intertwined her fingers with his. “You’re not just saying that because you want to fuck, right? Because I’m still going to fuck you.”
He choked on his food and coughed. “No one makes me laugh like you.”
“No one makes me blush like you.” Her chest filled with air. “So we’re doing this? Whatever this is?”
His thumb caressed hers. “Yeah.”
And just like that she was booed up.
Nyah’s phone rang and she excused herself to pick it up when she saw Gladys’s name on her caller ID.
“I got in. Did your letter come?” Gladys’s loud and excited voice nearly deafened her to the point where Tommy’s eyes widened. He pointed to his ears and mouthed, “Wow.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The symphony. The letters came and I got in,” Gladys yelled.
“Oh my gosh. Congratulations, girl! I’m so happy for you,” Nyah shouted.
“Did you check the mail?” Gladys asked. “Your letter should be in the same batch as mine since CeCe personally asked you to play for her when she was here.”
Nyah hadn’t because she’d been too busy performing at both the concert hall with Gladys and overcoming huge milestones at Rebel. Not to mention her handsome Dominican agent in her kitchen. “Not yet. Yesterday was busy at DGH and all—”
“Go check your mail!” Gladys yelled.
“Okay, okay.” Nyah put Gladys on mute and gave Tommy a quick explanation before heading down to the lobby to check her mailbox. She lost Gladys when the elevator doors closed but called her back when she got out. “I’m here. Give me a minute to check.” A bunch of unnecessary junk mail spilled out, along with a few bills she flipped through, and then there it was, like a golden ticket sparkling, her letter from London.
“Well?” Gladys asked.
“I got it.” Nyah took a deep breath. “I’m opening it.”
“Wait.” Gladys stopped her. “No matter what the letter says, you did an amazing audition for CeCe when she visited, and our applications were iron-clad.”
“Thanks, Gladys,” Nyah said, then tore open the envelope. She unfolded the letter and read:
Dear Nyah:
It is with great pleasure that The Black and Minority Ethnicity Symphony in London invites you to...
“I got in!” Nyah jumped and all the other mail fell to the floor. “I got in too, Gladys.”
“I knew it! Congratulations.” Gladys clapped and screamed. “We’re going to London!”
Nyah hadn’t realized how much she wanted London until the possibility of being rejected was a real thing. She hugged her letter and her eyes watered. “I’m so happy.”
“We have to celebrate. I think that Martin knows. He’ll probably make an announcement tomorrow,” Gladys rambled. “Okay, I have to go tell everyone.”
“Me too. We’ll talk later.”
They hung up and Nyah collected her trash mail and tossed it on her way up to her apartment. She entered her apartment and Tommy stood waiting for her.
“Well?” he asked.
“I got in!” She waved the letter.
Tommy scooped her in his arms and spun her. “Congratulations, angel. They’d have been crazy not to accept you.”
“Thank you.” She stared into the pride for her in his eyes and her heart thumped in her chest.
“So you know what this means, don’t you?” he asked.
“What?”
“We have a lot of celebratory smashing to do,” he whispered against her ear.
She laughed. “Please, do lead the way.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Artistique finally arrived and Nyah’s excitement to play there for the first time both as a classical musician and as Queen Roe bubbled inside her. She welcomed the less mainstream crowd of Oh Ship, as well as her underground residency crowd at Rebel. She couldn’t believe that those thoughts floated through her cranium. Rebel’s underground environment had shifted since she performed on Oh Ship, and now, she had to face the consequences of not only agreeing to going on that cruise, but for also giving one of her best performances. The contradiction still didn’t sit right with her and it was no one else’s problem to figure out but her own.
The other highlight was playing the classical fusion improvisational piece with Trinidad. He had sent her an email with some of the logistics and they had texted to connect when she arrived in Michigan. With Tommy’s help she had made it here. Since that wild night at Rebel, she’d gotten more comfortable with the bump in her celebrity because Tommy handled all the requests and now that she knew what to expect, she was prepared. Lastly, though Rebel’s sizable walls could fit many bodies, it couldn’t fit everyone. With the extra security presence and her backstage swillin’ fest with Trinket and Oscar, she acclimated to the new normal.
She stayed in one of the lakeside cabanas on Artist Row. She had to remember that she walked around as herself. She was only there for the weekend but without her responsibilities to the philharmonic she could devote herself to Artistique. She also had to send her acceptance for the London Symphony, which started in mid-June. Everything would be covered for them, including hotel and airfare, and she had only a week left to accept. “What the hell are you waiting for, girl?” An image of Gladys and her parents, Trinket and Oscar popped up, but Tommy’s image lingered.
“Hey you.”
Speak of the devil. Tommy approached her with dangerous magnetic charisma. Her surrender to his charms inserted him into her planning and she needed to fight her way out of his spell if she truly wanted to be in charge of her own decisions. However, thoughts of his loving embrace and his emotional stories made her care about him more than she’d expected or had control over.
“Hey.” Her accusatory tone didn’t help quiet the case her heart made to let him in.
“What’s that about?” Tommy’s humor-filled frown was even more adorable to her than his face in any other expression. “Everything good?”
“Yeah.” She forced a smile. “I just thought of something.”
“I hope nothing too unpleasant. If there’s anything I can do—”
“No, everything’s okay. Thanks for asking.”
He eyed her and she couldn’t help but laugh at his sleuth-raised brow. “Everything is fine.”
“It’s not that. I don’t think I’ve walked around with you as Nyah since our first business meeting at Lincoln Center,” he said. “It’s weird.”
“I have to remember that. Maybe we shouldn’t hang out too much like this. It’ll be too easy for people to make the connection. It’s bad enough I’m performing as both.”
“Your evening performance as Queen Roe and the location at the other side of the festival will help.”
“Where did you say you were staying again?” She blurted her question, hoping it sounded more light and curious than guided by the pangs her vajayjay made every time he was near. She lo
ved sex with him. The problem was that her heart opened and it would only be a matter of time before it demanded the same.
“I didn’t say.” His teasing came with that thing he did with his mouth when he wanted to kiss her, and she tripped over a slightly raised rock on the trail toward the festival grounds. “You sure you’re not coming down with anything? You look like you’re going to be sick.” Tommy lifted a hand to her forehead and checked her temperature.
“Maybe it’s the heat. I could probably use some electrolytes and some water.” She was in deep shit if she needed hydration from the mere thought of developing feelings for Tommy.
“I checked out the scene and there’s a water station coming up. They’re handing out festival water bottles to keep the kids hydrated.”
“Cool. I’ll grab one.”
“To answer your question, I’m staying at the cabana on the opposite side of Artist Row, where some other industry folks are. I planned on getting a hotel but I figured being on the grounds was better than trying to take the shuttle,” he explained. “Is that okay? I know this is probably the one event where you don’t really need me but I figured it would be good for me to soak this in for the future.”
Was he talking about their future together or with other clients? “Hey, I’m going to meet up with Trinidad to just connect for our classical improv performance tomorrow. I’m sure you have other things to do.”
She needed space from him or she’d miss this moment here at the festival.
“Not really. I mean, I’m here for you.”
“For Queen Roe. Remember?”
“Right.” He idled. “It might be a good idea for me to just meet him to get a sense of things and how they can flow with your performance tomorrow.”
“What?” None of his last sentence made any sense.
“I saw him online and he’s pretty good.”
He wouldn’t meet her eye and she wondered if Trinidad being dark, toned, and handsome had anything do with his insisting on meeting him.
Tommy’s creamy skin stained red at the tops of his cheeks. “What?”
