Madison was happy she had managed to keep her commitment with Jamahl and still make this event as well. She had accompanied Jamahl to the dinner, but she just let him know she had to leave early “for business.” At times like these she was thankful he was usually understanding about the fact that she mixed work with pleasure so much. Not that Jamahl could really complain, as many times as he had left her out to dry at an event or something.
She went toward the back hallway where a couple people were standing. She spoke back to the few familiar faces that shouted, “Hey, Madison,” as she walked by, but she felt no one was worth stopping for a formal greeting. She made her way toward the back and noticed a crowd of people in the studio. Madison glanced around to see who was inside. She recognized a lot of label executives and press people. After a few seconds she caught eyes with Polytics, who was already looking back at her. He smiled to let her know not only did he see her but that he was happy to see her. Madison smiled back.
Within seconds he was making his way toward her—he along with several people’s attention were heading her way. Madison remained calm and still, but for some reason she was feeling nerves in her stomach. She was definitely not used to feeling nervous—she usually made people nervous. When he stopped in front of her, she looked up at him with a smirk.
“Hey there, sexy, I’m so glad you were able to make it,” he said as he reached over to hug her.
“No problem.”
“As promised, the party is waiting on you. I didn’t play one song yet.”
“Well, I don’t have a lot of time, so let’s get to listening.”
Madison was doing a pretty good job of playing it cool, but on the inside she was trying to monitor her every word and action. She didn’t want to give off the wrong vibe or make any mistakes that could imply the wrong thing.
“Let’s,” Polytics said. He took Madison’s hand to direct her to the studio control area.
Madison was taken aback by the hand holding, and she instinctively grabbed her hand back. Polytics stopped in his tracks to see what the reaction was about. Madison felt the discomfort from the attention they were attracting.
“I can walk,” Madison said when she saw his perplexed look.
“OK, sooorry,” he replied.
Madison bucked her eyes at him to signal Well, go ahead. He began to walk again, and they continued down the hall to the studio. Neil, along with a few other people from the label and management, were already sitting inside.
“Hey, there, Maddie!” Neil shouted as soon as he saw Madison walk in.
“Hey, Neil,” she said as she gave him a hug.
“Aren’t we looking hot. Big plans tonight?” he said.
“I am coming from a dinner,” she responded.
Madison was hoping he would leave the topic alone, so she instantly began to make her rounds around the room to say hello. Once she was done greeting everyone with a hello or a hug, Polytics pulled out a large cushy chair for her to sit in. She quickly glanced around the room to see if anyone reacted to Polytics’s chivalry—if that was even what it was. She started to wonder if she was the only one overanalyzing anything. Polytics could have just been messing with her that day, and here she was acting as if they were ex-lovers or something. She began to feel stupid, like she was playing herself for even thinking that all her paranoia or discomfort was necessary. Polytics could have any girl he wanted—he was at least five years her junior, and he was probably not interested in a program director from New York when he could have an exotic video chick every day of the week.
Madison finally managed to calm down and relax. She sat back in the chair, finally enjoying the moment and the sucking up that came with her job. A few moments later, Polytics’s new single, “Broken Rules,” was playing through the oversize speakers in the studio. Madison looked through the glass to see the crowd’s reaction. She liked to use this as a part of her decision making to see if a song was a radio-friendly track. Madison and the others could see clearly all the guests and staff working the event outside the studio control room, and everyone watched how they received the music they were hearing. Heads were bouncing along, and feet were tapping; one or two people were even rapping along. There were also those cats who had gotten ahold of a leaked record from the Internet or were heavy enough in the music business to get an early copy, and they wanted the room to know they were “ahead of the game,” so they rapped every word very hard.
“This beat is hot. Who produced this? Dr. Dre?” Madison leaned over and asked Polytics.
The music was loud, and it was hard to hear over it, but Madison had leaned over close enough to hear his response.
“No. Actually, it’s this new cat I mess with. His name is Elly,” he replied.
“Oh, OK. Sounds like a Dre beat.”
They were basically yelling over the track, but their voices were completely drowned out by the music, so they had to get pretty close.
“Yeah, I have heard that before. This track is about how I don’t care what the rules say—when I want something, I am going to go after it.”
Madison had been watching the crowd with her ear close to Polytics’s mouth, but as Polytics spoke those words, she could feel that he was staring directly at her. Madison turned to verify, and sure enough, he was looking her dead in the eye.
“Are you trying to tell me something?” she asked.
“I’m not a big trier. I’m more of a doer.”
Madison gave him a look. For a moment she forgot about not wanting to show any interest. After she’d convinced herself he wasn’t obtainable, subconsciously, she must have become intrigued by the challenge. Before she could reply, the music faded out, and the next track began to slowly fade up. With the music lowered, Madison wasn’t willing to speak for fear of being overheard, and she found this awkward silence the perfect chance to brush off what he was saying.
As the volume got louder, she kept looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Last she looked, he was still looking. The new track came on, and it had an R & B hook. Oh, brother, Madison thought. The words “I enjoy the moments that are shared by we, because when I’m doing you I am doing me. All that sexiness on top of me, I now know the definition of ecstasy” Madison wanted to comment on, but she didn’t want to open that can of worms. Instead she just sat there, swaying her head to the music like most of the people on the other side of the glass were.
“So how do you like this one?” Polytics leaned over and asked her midway through the song.
“I like it. It’s different. I like how you have the Caribbean undertone to it.”
“This one was for the ladies. I have a lot of hard songs—I wanted to do something a little softer.”
The music was loud, but Madison could’ve sworn he had damn near seductively whispered the word softer. “Yeah, I think it’s best you mix it up when you’re a new artist so you don’t turn away any particular audience.”
“Exactly,” he replied as he turned away.
The next track began, and Madison began to ask herself just how long she would stay and what could be her most tactful exit. She was uncomfortable for sure, yet the last thing she wanted to appear as was weak and impressionable. Madison had been around the block, and she knew the games men played. She knew it wasn’t impossible that there was a bet going around, possibly between Polytics and his people. The last thing she wanted to be was some test or topic of some mix-tape record.
A couple tracks went by with no real conversations. People were just bobbing their heads, tapping their feet, and rapping along to the familiar songs. Madison got comfortable and was enjoying the album. She had to admit Polytics was a talented artist and had a bright future ahead of him if he played his cards right.
“So what you think?”
“I think it’s a hot album. You have quite a few single options, and that’s always a good thing.”
“What you think the next radio record should be?” he asked.
“I hate to give that advi
ce because then you think I’m obligated to play it.” Her look with her words told him she was well up on all the tricks.
“Not at all, nothing like that. I just figure who better than the queen of radio to help choose my next radio record.”
“Well, technically, I would be choosing your single—most songs that make the radio will have a video and promotion to support it.”
“Understandable. Now, which record do you think that should be?”
“How about I take the album home, listen to all the records, and tell you which I think should be your singles?”
“I like that idea. Can we do that tonight?”
“I didn’t say we would take it home, I said I would take it home.”
“Honestly, I’d love a detailed critique of all the songs, along with why you choose the singles you choose.”
Madison just gave him a look. He was asking to come to her house, and she wasn’t sure just how to take that.
“I’m not sure about all that. I don’t mind giving you the feedback, but I’m not too comfortable with you coming to my house.”
“I respect that,” he said.
Madison could sense that he wasn’t feeling her shut down, and although she wasn’t trying to be cold, she just felt that—considering his tone—the decision was best. “How about we go back to the station and go through the album there?”
“Cool, that’s fine with me. I wasn’t trying to get in your bed or anything.”
Madison blushed, a bit embarrassed by his comment. Was it all in her mind, or was he interested in her?
“No one said all that, but my place is a little personal. This is business.”
“Whatever, yo.”
Madison sensed his street side showing; she was surprised he had actually gotten a little attitude, as though he hadn’t understood where she was coming from.
“You want to do this or not?” she asked. She was a bit intrigued by this guy who didn’t seem intimidated by her in the least bit. But at the same time, she wasn’t trying to let him get their relationship twisted. He needed her—she didn’t need him.
“Yes, I said we can do that. As soon as this is done, you want to just ride over together?”
“Sure, why not?”
Within the next thirty minutes, a lot more guests had begun to show up. Polytics got on the microphone and announced that the album had two more tracks to be heard. He thanked everyone for coming, informed them it was unlikely he would be around when the event was done, but he would be having a platinum party very soon. The crowd laughed at his blatant cockiness and applauded him for all he had accomplished thus far. Some people, realizing they weren’t going to get a chance to meet or chat with him, began to gather their things. Polytics and his crew began to chat about the plans for the evening, and Madison began to gather her things as well to head out.
“Where are you going?” Polytics asked as he noticed Madison preparing to go.
“Uhh…home,” Madison said with a sarcastic undertone.
“I thought we were going to the studio to listen to my album.”
“I heard you guys making plans, so I figured you changed your mind.”
“No, planning for after our session,” he said.
“Oh, OK. I can spare an hour or two.”
Polytics continued to make plans with his team as to when and where he would meet them later that night. Madison checked her voice mail as she waited for Polytics to finish up. Once she finished, there had been no message from Jamahl, so she hung up and looked around to see where Polytics was. When she turned around, he was signaling for her to come over. Madison slowly walked over to be sure to eliminate any idea he might have had that he was in control. Once she arrived to where he stood, his security team escorted them out the back entrance.
Once downstairs, she saw a black Suburban parked in front of the studio. There were some fans standing a few feet away, screaming his name, and a couple guests from upstairs stood by watching them. Polytics, Madison, and one of the security men got in the vehicle, and the other people stepped away. The security guard sat in front with the driver, and just Madison and Polytics were in the backseat. Once they pulled away from the studio, Polytics told the driver where to go. Madison just sat back and looked out the window, wondering what she was doing alone with this man, knowing how unclear things had been since the day they’d met.
“You OK?” Polytics asked a few minutes into the ride.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Well, I know that, but are you feeling OK?”
“Wow, I can’t believe you used that corny line on me.”
They both laughed.
“I’m just saying you seem distracted.”
“Nah, I’m cool. Really.”
“OK, because there is no need to be nervous around me. Nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen.”
Madison looked at him, shocked that he would say such a thing, but she giggled and turned away before a conversation began that she didn’t want to have.
She had been in the business for all these years and dealt with several celebrities—she knew very well that this wasn’t an issue of being starstruck, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Something about him kept causing her to look away and be soft-spoken—almost on the verge of shy. She didn’t like feeling so uneasy and vulnerable, but there was a piece of her that kind of liked what he was doing to her. His attention made her feel a little excitement inside, though she was trying her damnedest to ignore and deny it.
Chapter 12
The Suburban had big, beige, plush leather seats and a mini refrigerator down below. Madison had been in a million of these, but she always enjoyed the ride each time. It was better than a limousine or a Maybach or any of the other flashy means of chauffeured transportation, in her opinion. She liked how it was discreet but luxurious; it signified importance but it wasn’t flashy.
The radio was tuned to 99.1 FM, and Madison listened carefully to see if KD was keeping it short and sweet. Of course he wasn’t, and Madison could only sigh to herself that she had to speak to him once again. As she sat there listening carefully and critiquing his every word, she felt Polytics tapping her leg.
“So tell me more about yourself,” he said.
“What is this, a date?” Madison asked.
“Damn…you are so mean.”
“No, I’m not. I’m very nice, actually.”
“You always have some smart response. I was just asking you a question.”
“I was only kidding. I’m not mean—you’re just sensitive.”
“Oh, good one. Whatever, Miss Madison, you’re real funny.”
Madison was trying to hide that she was still blushing. She felt like a schoolgirl having her first conversation with the coolest boy in school.
Moments later, they pulled up to the station. The driver and the security guard discussed things Madison couldn’t hear, and then the driver got out and opened Madison’s door. They both stepped out of the car and into the building as security followed them. Once inside the lobby, Madison stopped at her own security desk to get them both checked in. Once they had their security badges, they headed up to the ninth floor. Martin, a security guard who secured just the ninth floor, seemed surprised to see Madison back at the station. He looked thankful that he hadn’t gotten caught sleeping on the job. She liked that—keeping everyone on their toes. The studio was around the corner, and though she was tempted to go tell KD about his long talk break, she decided to head straight toward her office.
At some point when the security guard had been checking them in, Polytics and his security had had a quick conversation that had led to his security guard waiting behind. It seemed as if the guard was going to chill with Martin. Madison waved her key card and unlocked the door that led to the office. She and Polytics made their way back to her department without saying much of anything to each other. It was so late at night, there was no one still in the office except probably some cleaning staff t
aking out the garbage. Polytics looked around at all the platinum record plaques hanging on the wall outside of her office as he waited for Madison to key into her office.
Once the door was open, she turned on the lights, and they stepped inside.
“You can take a seat,” she said.
He sat down on the plush leather couch across from her desk and began to look around her office. She walked around and sat in her chair.
“Pass me the CD,” she said.
Polytics reached in his pocket, pulled out a CD with a clear cover, and handed it to her. She placed it in the CD player behind her desk.
“I appreciate you taking the time out to do this,” he said.
“No problem,” she said.
“Just goes to show that you are a real special person. You don’t owe me shit, but you’re looking out. I really like that about you.”
“Aw, thanks,” she replied as she hit PLAY.
A few seconds later, the sounds of a harsh beat began to seep from the speakers in every corner of her office. Polytics’s lyrics began to consume the beat, and it wasn’t long before both Polytics and Madison were bopping their heads. Madison used the remote by her keyboard to turn the volume down some.
“Now, this one I like. The beat demands your attention, and your flow is different on this track versus the others,” she said.
“I was thinking about making this one my next or third single,” he said.
“I think it definitely should be a single, but you may want to make one of your tracks with an R & B hook your next single. As we discussed, you have to build your ladies audience.”
Just as Polytics was about to respond, there was a knock at the door. Madison leaned over and pressed PAUSE on the remote.
“Who is it?” Madison yelled.
She couldn’t depict who belonged to the muffled voice on the other side of the door. She was guessing it was KD, Polytics’s security, Martin, or someone working late trying to find some other human life in the office. She walked around her desk to open the door. Standing on the other side was the five-three cleaning lady with garbage bags in her hand.
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