AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories)

by Carmella Jones

  I couldn’t even try to say where things finally came to an end that night.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning I quietly gathered my things and loaded them on the bus, then returned to the hotel for breakfast. I had left a note on my pillow for David.

  The tour left Louisiana for a day’s drive to Mobile, Alabama. The next stop had us playing the civic center and staying at a hotel that was formerly a train station. Out tour dates didn’t line up with Mardi Gras or Bay Fest, but there was still going to be a variety of good local music venues we could visit.

  Once we all settled in our rooms we were given a free night, with early rehearsals scheduled for the following day. I made plans with some of the crew, and after a brief rest I got dressed and ready to go out. Once I made it to the lobby, the only person waiting for me was David.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” I said.

  “I’ll bet. I got the impression from your note that you didn’t expect to see me again,” he said.

  “I didn’t,” I replied.

  “Did you want to?” he asked.

  His face looked hopeful but uncertain. In truth I did want to see him again, but parts of me felt like I shouldn’t.

  “I hadn’t decided,” I replied looking around the lobby for the people I was meeting.

  “Are you looking for the stage hands who went out with us last night?” he asked.

  I nodded and kept looking.

  “They said to tell you that you were free to enjoy the night with me. I think they figured out I was surprising you and were giving us alone time. Now we can go on a proper date,” he said smiling.

  “Date? No, I don’t think so,” I said.

  If I got a taxi quickly I could be just a few minutes behind the others.

  “What’s wrong? Last night was fun, right?” David asked.

  “Yes, but one night of fun was enough,” I said.

  He looked confused.

  “Everything was great, but this really was supposed to just be a one-time thing,” I said. “I mean, not to paint myself as a one-night-stand girl, but this is a tour, you were there, and overall I don’t think we would work.”

  “Well, we can’t work if you don’t want to try, and it’s not like I’m proposing. I just want to go on a date,” he said, stepping closer.

  He was smiling and he smelled really good once he was right in front of me, but I had already given this thought before I left this morning. I didn’t like to date when I didn’t think there was a future in it. After this tour, it was unlikely our paths would cross again.

  “You’re a really nice guy, but I really don’t think we are each what the other is looking for,” I said.

  “Well, I wasn’t looking for anything. We met. Now, I’m looking to spend more time with you,” he said.

  “That’s sweet, but let’s just stop before this starts. You’re a little old fashioned and I’ve dated ‘good old boys’ before. There is a fine line between chivalrous and sexist that men like that have a hard time finding. On top of that, you made it clear that I’m the first black girl you have been with. After you date me long enough to have a clear conscience, you will move on, glad to have had a black chick, but marry a white girl. And, for you it was some big deal just that I’m singing with this type of band. No, this isn’t going down,” I said.

  “Well, let’s be fair here. You made it a point to tell me you try to read people, so you immediately look for ways to judge them and future interactions. I know you enjoyed our time together, but because of your preexisting notions about me and guys like me, we can’t even try to have a date, much less anything else. You are the one putting rules and limitations on everything,” he said, smiling less now.

  “Fair enough. I didn’t mean to offend you. I still stand by what I said, though.”

  “Well, I’ll give you space then. If you change your mind we can talk,” he said. “I’ll be staying with the tour tonight, and returning to my company tomorrow. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll understand and leave before the performance.”

  He kissed my cheek and went to the elevator.

  I waited a moment, then caught a taxi to keep my original plans. David stayed on my mind, but I felt I had made the best decision in the long run. I may have been his first black woman, but he was not the first white guy for me. There are some that could make it work, but he was not a part of that group as far as I could tell.

  When the taxi arrived, I decided to just walk around downtown instead. I didn’t feel like explaining my change in plans to everyone.

  Chapter 6

  Our performance at the Mobile Civic Center went well. We had a sold-out crowd this time and a few after events that the band encouraged everyone to attend.

  I didn’t see David anymore in Mobile, not that I expected to. In hindsight, I thought I might have been a little hard on him. Even if I was right, at the moment he may have truly had interest and good intentions. Still, I knew I had spared both our feelings in the long run.

  The next stop on the tour was a bit longer ride. We were making our way all the way down the Florida coast to Miami, then working our way back up to South Carolina. David was still on my mind, so I looked him up to be certain I had made the best decision.

  Everything he had told me was true. He owned a sound research company and sold a lot of his technology to larger companies. They used it to improve their products. There were photos online of him when he was younger, before his breakthrough invention. He seemed to enjoy outdoorsy things and large-breasted blondes. There weren’t many photos of him with other women once his company started. At least he kept his private life private.

  I was probably a notch in his belt that he enjoyed enough to attempt repeating. He didn’t put up much fight when I sent him away. I felt a bit better about my decision.

  When we reached Miami, it was already late. Everyone went through check-in and headed to the rooms. Some went to each other’s rooms to unwind after being on the road. I, like most of the others, went straight to bed since there were early rehearsals the next morning with a show the following night.

  At rehearsal, we were all in pretty good spirits. Everyone was on beat and on key. Lights and effects had perfect timing. Carol was pleased enough to give us a few hours’ break before we had to be back to get ready for the show, so a few of us picked up lunch and headed for the beach.

  “Your friend joining us tonight?” asked a roadie.

  I stretched out on my blanket and ran my hand over the sand.

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “That’s a shame. He seemed like a good guy,” said one of the lighting crew members.

  “He’s all right,” I said.

  “I never saw him work on anything. Was he a friend of Carol’s?” the first roadie asked.

  “No, he’s that guy who owns LSD. You know, Lawson Sound Development? He’s been visiting different concerts and venues all year trying to perfect the concert experience for home surround sound. He’s been interviewed all over,” one of the other backup singers added.

  “Oh yeah,” the roadie said recognizing the description. “Iman, you’ve taken to dating billionaires.”

  He laughed and a few of the others smiled.

  “We’re not dating. We hung out once and then I told him I didn’t think we would be suited to each other. Pretty sure he’s gone home now,” I said, suddenly enjoying our outing less.

  “Well, that’s a shame,” the other backup singer said. “He seemed really excited about spending time with you when we bumped into him the other night in the lobby. Did the second date not go well?”

  “We didn’t go on a second date. There was no first date. I let him come along when we all had drinks and saw a band. He showed up in the lobby and I told him we weren’t a good fit. That’s it,” I said.

  “So, you didn’t even give him a chance?” the roadie said, sitting upright.

  “Come on, we all know that that wouldn’t have worked. Especially now kn
owing he’s a rich tech guy who typically dates buxom blondes,” I said, shaking my head.

  The lighting guy flicked some sand at me.

  “Sounds like you didn’t really give him much of a chance,” he said.

  “We both got what we wanted,” I said.

  “Well, maybe you did. You didn’t really get to know him to see what he wanted, and it sounds like you wanted to stay in the comfort of your own perceptions,” he said.

  Everyone shifted around a bit, shaking off the awkward turn the conversation had taken. We snacked a little more and a few people went to play in the water. Midafternoon we packed up our belongings and went back to the hotel to prepare for the night’s show.

  Chapter 7

  As we performed that night, I looked around at the people working backstage. David, again, was not there. I was disappointed. After talking to the others I felt like I owed him an apology for disregarding any feelings he might have thought he had.

  The crowd enjoyed the show and everyone sounded amazing. I felt like I was off the entire show, and I knew it was because my mind was going over the past several days’ events, not focusing on my performance. As we left the stage we all told each other good job and everyone made their way to the tents to get water and eat while the band did interviews.

  Back at the hotel, everyone made plans to go out. I decided to stay behind. I checked with the front desk, but David Lawson was not a registered guest.

  I went to my room for a shower and change of clothes. After looking around online and watching TV, I regretted not joining the others who went out, but I knew it was too late to join them. I threw on jeans and a tank top and went downstairs. Attached to the lobby of the hotel, there was a bar and lounge. I could have a night cap and maybe get some sleep.

  I ordered rum and Dr. Pepper and sat at the bar. One or two other late-night patrons stopped to say hello. They had come to town for the concert and bought tickets early enough to book the same hotel. They asked about the band and got my autograph.

  I ordered a second drink when they left.

  The TV behind the bar was showing entertainment news. There was a countdown of the 30 hottest men under 30. I watched twenty-three through nineteen as I finished my drink. Then, I continued the show up in my room. They covered eighteen and seventeen during the elevator ride and sixteen as I changed clothes. They were announcing number fifteen just as I got comfortable under the covers.

  “David Lawson, age 29, is number fifteen in our countdown of the thirty hottest men under thirty,” Giuliana Rancic’s voice played over images of David. “The young tech mogul made a breakthrough in sound technology in 2010 while he was still in college patenting improvements in the Bluetooth industry. Now the CEO and founder of a Fortune 500 company, this bachelor spends more time on his work than his private life. Thought to be somewhat of a recluse, the very private Lawson has been single for five years since his breakup with his long time high school sweetheart and fiancé, Nicole Williams. In the months following the breakup he dated a few A-list stars only to decide to focus on his work until quote, ‘the right woman comes along.’ And now, at number fourteen…”

  I turned the TV off and pulled my laptop back out. I looked more closely at the pictures of David the day before. I realized a few of them where David was younger were the same woman, just different haircuts and styles over time. The others seemed to only appear in one or two pictures or group photos and none were recent. The most recently dated photos seemed to be product appearances where he declined interviews and only gave bits and pieces about the technology he was researching.

  I sat my laptop back on the nightstand and relaxed under the covers. The more I learned about David the more I felt I owed him an apology.

  Chapter 8

  The rest of the tour went without a hitch, but also without any encounters with David. I imagined either he finished his research or made sure to avoid our tour to avoid me. I couldn’t say I blamed him.

  When we wrapped our last performance, the entire band, crew, and all members of the tour celebrated in the banquet hall. Carol made a speech thanking everyone for their help. The lead singer of the band gave everyone thanks for helping bring their music to life, and said that the band all felt like music made everyone family.

  We ate, drank, and celebrated that we would all be returning to our homes for a well-deserved break. Some discussed their coming plans. I mingled briefly, then attempted sneaking out of the crowd to my room.

  As I reached the exit to the lobby, I bumped into someone trying to come in.

  “Sorry,” we both said.

  When I looked up, I was face to face with David.

  “Hi,” I said.

  I tried to smile in a friendly way, but I’m sure it was as awkward as I felt having not seen him after the way we had left things.

  “Hello,” he said. “I was just going to speak with Carol for a moment and thank the band for their help.”

  I nodded and stepped out of his way. As he stepped forward I called to him and he turned back around.

  “I owe you an apology,” I said.

  “No, you have your opinions and that is good. Just remember opinions are not facts, particularly when you want to get to know someone,” he said.

  “Well, my opinions about you were wrong and cut short what, regardless of the romantic relationship, could have been a good friendship. You’re a nice guy and probably had good intentions,” I said.

  He nodded and finally gave me a little smile.

  “Good luck with your research. I hope your surround sound project goes well,” I said.

  “Thanks, good luck with your music,” he said.

  I made my way out and when I looked back he was shaking Carol’s hand and thanking the band. The handshake was a good grip. His arm followed Carol’s rapid up and down motion.

  Chapter 9

  My flight the next day was a straight trip from Virginia to Savannah, Georgia. When I got to my flat I had a few messages on my machine and a pile of mail. Before I checked them, I wanted a shower in my own bathroom and a nap in my own bed.

  Once I was more relaxed, I went through the mail first. It was mostly bills and a few cards. I played through the messages. There were a few messages for studio sessions with some of my regulars. I had one call that stood out. It was a booking for a few small shows with a new band, and it had been left within the past week. The message said that it would be eight cities in one month and that a sample disc was in the mail for my consideration.

  I called back the studio sessions and booked them for the coming week. The mini tour message did not leave any contact information, so all I could do was see what came in the mail.

  After a few days, I held an unmarked disc from an envelope with no return address. The music was nice. It bordered on being something I would have expected to hear in a coffee shop, but there was something in the vocals that stayed with me. There were also some interesting choices in the instruments featured on some of the songs. The lyrics had good meaning, but could use a little work with some of the phrasing. Overall, there was something captivating about the music as a whole, so I was willing to take on the project.

  I just didn’t know who to get in touch with to accept. Then, a few days later I received another phone call.

  “Is this Iman Bowen?” a man’s voice asked.

  “Yes, this is she,” I replied.

  “Great! This is Marcus Springfield. I recently sent you a disc for a band I manage that is doing a small tour. We were hoping you would join us as back up. As you can hear from the disc, we need stronger backup vocals, particularly on this first tour. I understand you are one of the best in the business. That would give us a great leg up getting traction for the band,” he said, finally pausing.

  “It sounds very interesting, Mr. Springfield. I do like the sound of the band. They are a little rough around the edges, but I believe they show promise. Refining their sound and message will come with time. When can we meet?” I asked
.

  “If you will take the project, I have been instructed to fly you out as soon as possible so we can re-record a copy of the album that is better suited to distribution. The tour would start in the next month,” Mr. Springfield said.

  I thought for a moment. He sounded really excited and energetic, but this band was moving fairly quickly. It looked like with rerecording and the tour I would be gone for a month.

  “Well, I just got back from a tour and I booked some studio sessions for this coming week. I could fly out the following Monday. Where would all this be taking place?” I asked.

  “Well, the recording and first performance is in Little Rock. After that, we will make the circuit of Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas, going back to Arkansas,” he said.

  “That sounds good. What is the name of the band?” I asked.

  “Sounds of Lawlessness,” he said. “We look forward to having you. I will get your initial plane ticket and a packet with your hotel information in the mail immediately. Have a great week.”

  He hung up the phone before I could respond.

  Chapter 10

  At the airport, there was a chubby man waiting there, holding a sign with my name. He seemed to recognize me. As I made my way toward him he tucked the sign under his arm and moved toward me as well, offering a smile and a wave.

  “Ms. Bowen, I’m Marcus Springfield. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said, offering his hand.

  I grasped his hand and we shook hands heartily.

  “Nice to meet you as well. I look forward to meeting the band and working with you all. I don’t know that the band manager has ever picked me up. You all must be a fairly close-knit bunch,” I said.