A serious hiss escaped Penny’s mouth and Terrill knew that meant Carla’s California dreams were going to stay just that if Penny had anything to do with it.
“Carla, you can give that one up. You are not moving to California.”
“Why not? What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much, except give birth to your behind?”
“You have got to be kidding me, Carla. Just can it, ’cause I’m not the one. You can’t guilt me into taking care of you. You have never taken care of me. I don’t owe you anything.” Penny shook her head incredulously.
“I’ll help you settle Big Mama’s affairs and help you out so you can remain here and keep this place. But when I leave here the only thing you’re going to see from me is a monthly check. And if you keep tripping you’re going to mess that up.”
“What do you think, Terrill? You think it’s right that Brat is gonna to throw her mama out to the wolves? She knows I need help. But she’s just gonna go on about her little life.”
A tear trailed down Carla’s face and Terrill had to remind himself that this was the same woman who could out-hustle any hustler, had talked cops out of arresting her and even managed to con Big Mama into giving her chance after chance. He wasn’t about to fall for Carla’s game.
“I think if you would stop calling your daughter ‘Brat,’ she might be able to make her way past all the hurt you’ve piled on her through the years. And I think the two of you need to talk and come to a space of understanding.” Terrill gave Penny a peck on the cheek and placed his arm around her for a quick hug. “I’m going to head out and I’ll stop back by tomorrow to see how you’re doing. Maybe we can go to service at Mt. Zion. Call me if you need anything.”
Carla shrugged and her crocodile tears miraculously cleared up. “Hey, don’t forget about the videos. I think I have star potential,” she called after Terrill as he made his way out of the room and out of the house.
He shook his head as he made his way to his rental.
Just like the day before, all the drama with Penny and Jason made him want to call Maritza and try to get her to see that they should try and figure out what was going on between them.
Unfortunately, Maritza wasn’t going to just give in and make this easy on the two of them. Her skittishness meant he was going to have to take it slower than he wanted to.
He probably shouldn’t have kissed her before he left Los Angeles. But he had and now there was no turning back.
At least not for him…
Maritza, on the other hand, was going to keep running for a while. He could already tell.
He dialed her cell phone number and waited for her to pick up.
“Hello.”
He smiled at the sound of her voice. “Hello, Maritza. Just calling to get my daily dose.”
She sighed and he could envision her rolling her eyes. He hoped she was also fighting back that sexy smile of hers.
“Your daily dose of what? Sarcasm? Dry wit? Fabulousity?”
“All of that and don’t forget beauty, brains and overall sexiness.” He chuckled when she didn’t respond. Here he had thought kissing her was the only way to make her speechless. It turned out he could have also done it a long time ago by letting her know how smitten he was with her.
Who knew?
“So I’m thinking when I get back to Los Angeles, we can go out for dinner and try to move things along between us at a pace that might be a little more reasonable for you, given how scared you are about giving in to the inevitable.”
She sucked her teeth and he grinned.
Here comes the attitude, he thought.
“I’m not afraid, Terrill. I just think it’s a bad idea. We are business partners, even though you are a not-so-silent partner. You put up the financial backing that helped us get started. Penny and you are best friends. Penny and I are best friends. And you and I are whatever the heck we are… I just don’t want to be the odd person out if things go wrong between us and you and Penny remain friends and I become the new Jason Hightower. If it came down to it and Penny had to choose sides, I’m sure she would pick you, given y’all’s history and all.” Maritza’s words came out in a heated rush and it was clear she had been rehearsing her excuses all day.
Terrill wondered when she was going to take a moment to catch her breath.
“Wow. How long did it take you to think of all of those? Not that it really matters, because all the excuses in the world won’t matter. You probably have no idea right now how useless the excuses are. But trust and believe me when I say they aren’t going to get in our way. I’m willing to take things slow. I’m even willing to let you call the shots, within reason. So long as you calling the shots doesn’t entail you running away. But no excuse you can think of is going to stop this.”
She hissed and he smiled.
“So how’s your day going, beautiful?”
“It’s going fine. I have an appointment with a potential new client and a hot date later.” Defiance dripped off her voice like honey off a dipper.
Terrill took a deep breath. Even though he didn’t like the idea of Maritza going out on a date with anyone but him, he couldn’t walk right into her carefully laid trap. The last thing he needed to do was to get too territorial too quick. The door to a possible relationship would close and he barely had it open.
“Meeting with a client on a Saturday? You work too hard. When I come home I’ll be sure to work on teaching you how to relax.”
“Umm…yeah…whatever… Listen, I need to go and prepare for this client. So if you didn’t need anything else?”
Running.
Figures.
He hoped that he never got tired of chasing this woman, because she would probably be running until he managed to get her down the aisle—if they ever made it to that.
Pace yourself, Carter.
“No, I just wanted to hear your voice. Good luck with the new client and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
There was a long pause before she responded and he hoped that meant she was finally ready to let down her shield.
“Yes, well, you don’t have to call me tomorrow, you know—”
“Yes. I do.
“And Maritza…have fun, but don’t have too much fun on that hot date of yours. ’Bye. I’ll talk with you on Sunday.” Terrill hung up the phone, hoping against hope that he had made the right move.
Maritza stared at the phone as if it had morphed into a snake. What the hell was that about? How was she supposed to contend with this recent development and remain sane?
Sure, she had always secretly been somewhat, sorta, kinda attracted to Terrill Carter. What red-blooded woman with a partiality to honey-complexioned brothers with hazel eyes wouldn’t be attracted to him?
She had made it her business to keep herself and him always off balance by being less than agreeable toward him from the moment she met him and found out he was in the music business and ran in the same circles with the kind of men she was trying to avoid.
But then he had to go and kiss her.
Why’d he have to go and do that?
“Ms. Morales, Mr. MacGregor is here to see you.” Sue, Maritza’s administrative assistant, popped her curly blond head in the door before the rest of her perky, petite body entered the room.
Since Sue was Maritza’s fifth assistant in less than two years, she really hoped she would work out. She liked the fresh-out-of-college, ready-for-the-world energy that Sue exuded. And, so far, Sue was working just fine, keeping up with all the extra hours Maritza put in.
“You can send him in, Sue, and you can leave for the day. I’ll let you know if I need you tomorrow, but I can probably manage alone. Since it’s Sunday, I might work from home. So I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Thanks, Ms. Morales. Enjoy the rest of your weekend and I’ll see you on Monday, unless you need me tomorrow.” Sue smiled and left the room.
Maritza liked that Sue seemed open to coming in whenever needed, even if it was a Sunday. In the persona
l stylist and image consultant business there really wasn’t a definite nine-to-five schedule. You had to be there when your clients needed you. Period. All kinds of weekend events that required the perfect ensemble, and blow ups that needed the perfect media spin or cover story, dictated when they had to work and for how long.
“So I finally get to meet the infamous Maritza Morales. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe…”
Maritza looked up to find the truly infamous white hip-hop artist Andrew “Speed-Lo” MacGregor gracing her office door. If New Images by Keys and Morales decided to take him on, he would be their biggest client to date and probably their biggest challenge. Saying his reputation preceded him was a gross understatement. His controversial lyrics about killing his ex-wife and mother, his notorious substance abuse issues and neverending beefs with other rap artists had quickly changed him from hip-hop’s great white hope to its ultimate bad boy not soon after his first multiplatinum-selling CD.
He sauntered into her office and stood in front of her crisp white desk holding out his hand. She looked up and the first thing she thought was that he was much taller in person than he appeared on television. And the second thing she thought was, how can this suave strawberry-blond, green-eyed man with a dusting of freckles on his nose be such a menace to society? He was like what would happen if someone placed hardcore rapper DMX inside Happy Days’ Richie Cunningham’s body—a walking, talking conundrum if she ever saw one.
She came around the desk to shake his hand and he pulled her into a hug.
Awkward.
She pulled away and shook her finger at him. “This is exactly why your reputation is in dire need of New Images by Keys and Morales, Mr. MacGregor.”
He winked at her as he stepped away and took a seat in one of the white leather swivel chairs in front of her desk. She sat back down behind the desk and studied him carefully.
“Half of what people say about me is all lies,” he protested with a cocky grin.
“Ah…but that other half…” Maritza couldn’t help but smile. “Here’s the thing, Mr. MacGregor—”
“Please call me Andrew,” he implored.
“Okay, Andrew. Here’s the thing. I’m not sure that New Images by Keys and Morales can do a lot to help you with your image, especially if you keep making songs about killing your ex-wife and mother. I mean, with the ex-wife songs we might be able to find a way to get you to do some anti-domestic violence PSAs—”
“Hey, I never ever put a hand on Tiff. Those songs are just creative therapy…”
“Yeah, creative therapy that promotes violence against women.” Maritza couldn’t help sucking her teeth. She was Sharon Morales’s daughter after all. She might not practice her mother’s feminism all the time, but she was enough of a feminist’s daughter to have serious issues with his music.
“It is just music. I’m not telling anyone to go out there and kill their wives.”
“Yeah…right…in any case, a couple of well-placed public service announcements and some donations to women’s shelters could help with that.” She gave him a stern look. “Help, not totally fix…”
She paused. She didn’t want to give away all of her plans for revamping his image in the first meeting before signing him as a client. “The songs you made about your mom and the ongoing public battles and lawsuits between the two of you…that will take more than a miracle to fix. Because how can we tell the world to love you if your own mother hates you?”
“Ouch! Damn, girl. A little harsh?” Andrew winced in mock pain.
“That’s the other thing you should know about signing with New Images by Keys and Morales. I have been known to tell it like it is and keep it one hundred percent real with our clients. I figure you’re paying me to help you get other people to believe the hype. And in order to best help you make that happen, I have to be able to tell you exactly what I think with very little filters. We create the press—we don’t necessarily believe it.”
“Well, that’s refreshing. An image consultant who keeps it real.” Andrew nodded as he studied her. “I’ll tell you what. How about you let me take you out to dinner after I sign with you. It can be the first of many, because I like your style, girl.”
Maritza smiled. “Since I will take you on as a client, I should let you know the third thing. I will not date you, because I don’t date clients. And you need me as an image consultant more than you need me as date. Because in order to become a man that I would even consider dating you have to clean up that image of yours.”
He burst out into a fit of laughter and for a minute she thought she might have overplayed her hand.
She definitely didn’t date clients. But maybe she shouldn’t have been so smug and sassy in the way she turned him down.
“I like you, Maritza Morales, and I’m going to take your advice and sign with New Images to clean up my image, so that one day when I ask you out on a date you won’t have any choice but to say yes.”
It was all she could do not to let out the breath she was holding and keep a straight face. “You’ve made the right choice, Andrew! Trust me, I’m a much better image consultant than I am a date.” She stood to shake his hands and willed her legs not to shake.
This was the biggest client New Images by Keys and Morales had ever nabbed. They were moving on up! Between signing Andrew “Speed-Lo” MacGregor and Lace Monroe, even more eyes were going to be on their firm. And she had signed them all by herself, by being her somewhat blunt self.
Usually Penny was the one who sealed the deals, because she had a more pleasing personality. But Maritza had just proved she could sign the big clients as well.
She felt like celebrating. She felt like telling someone about her big scores. Too bad she had lied to Terrill about having a hot date and she didn’t really have any plans, unless Ben & Jerry’s counted as a hot date.
Now that’s a ménage for you, she thought as she envisioned herself wrapped around a nice cool pint of Chunky Monkey.
As she walked Andrew to the door, for some reason one of Billy Dee Williams’s lines from Mahogany ran through her head. “Success was nothing without someone you love to share it with.” Although for some reason the Billy Dee Williams in her head looked an awful lot like Terrill Carter.
And she had no idea what to think about that, let alone what she was going to do about it…
Chapter 3
“Oh, Mrs. Hightower, I don’t think that would be a good idea. Besides, I—” Penny’s words were cut off by Jason’s mother, Celia Hightower, and Terrill knew things were about to become seriously awkward.
Church service had just ended and they were on their way out the door, despite the fact that he had really wanted to talk to the young woman who sang lead in the choir’s rendition of “Maybe the Lord is Trying to Tell You Something.” That sister could sing the old-school Whitney Houston under the table and he really wanted to see if he could sign her.
But he was willing to pass up on signing the next big mega-superstar singer, since Penny seemed hell-bent on getting out of church before either Jason or anyone in the Hightower family could catch up to her. Too bad Celia Hightower managed to catch them before they could escape.
“Nonsense, Penny! Of course you and Terrill will come to Sunday dinner. It’ll be just like old times. It’s time to let bygones be bygones. I feel it. The Lord put it on my spirit and after today’s sermon, I certainly don’t want to go around second-guessing the Lord.”
“Now Mama, if Terrill and Penny have other things to do, then perhaps we should let them do that.” Jason spoke in a casual, nonchalant voice, but the expression on his face seemed almost to plead for Terrill and Penny not to take Mrs. Hightower up on her offer.
Terrill smirked. He almost felt sorry for his old friend.
Almost.
But even he wasn’t cruel enough to make Jason and Penny suffer through a dinner together when they clearly had so many issues that they were both too stubborn to work through. And he really didn’t th
ink Penny could be around Jason any more during this weekend.
“You know I’ve missed your Sunday meals, Mrs. Hightower. But I’ll be flying out tonight and—” Terrill started in with his gentle refusal only to be shot down midway in.
“All the more reason for you to come by for dinner, son. We haven’t seen you in years and now you’re here. You’ve moved your mom to California, so you hardly ever come back to visit. When will we see you again?” Mrs. Hightower turned to Penny. “And I bet you’ll be moving Carla back to California with you. And you didn’t even visit when your grandmother was alive. We’re likely to never see either one of you again.
“Can’t you just grant this old lady one last dinner with you all now that you’ve grown up? Penny, you can ride on over with James and I now. That way we can get in the kitchen together like we used to. I’ve missed that. And I want to hear all about your life in Los Angeles.”
Jason narrowed his eyes at his mother before rolling them.
“Mrs. Hightower…” Penny started.
“I remember those times in the kitchen with you. It was like I finally had the daughter I always wanted. I’ve missed you so much. Both of you.” Mrs. Hightower put the saddest little expression on her face and sighed.
Jason groaned and it was all Terrill could do not to laugh.
Penny took a deep breath. “I don’t think that, given the past, everyone would be okay with us coming to dinner. I miss you more than you know, more than I could ever express. But I just feel like we need to be sensitive to the feelings that—”
“Nonsense, Penny. Jason won’t have a problem with either of you coming. Frankly, you all need to grow up and let the past be the past. You all were friends. You were close. You loved one another and in the case of you and Jason, you were in love with one another. It’s time to put the past behind us. So come on, Penny. James likes to beat the traffic getting out of the parking lot. We’ll see you guys later. Terrill, I mean to see you, too.” Celia took Penny by the arm and actually led her out of the church.
Both Terrill and Jason watched them walk away and then Jason turned to Terrill.
Ready for Love Page 5
