Every Road to You

by Phyllis Bourne

  “Just so you know, I’m here only as a courtesy,” he said. “Bat Tower is happy with our current agreement with my man Wangs here, and I have no intention of renegotiating it.”

  Slater looked at his watch and rose from his seat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an eleven-o’clock tee time at the club, and I don’t want to be late.”

  He laughed. “And, Wangs, I’ll see you in the studio after your tour is done.”

  Jeffrey’s hands fidgeted on top of the table, and Ethan knew he was struggling to maintain his cool. Still, he kept quiet, as he’d been instructed to do earlier so Ethan could do the talking.

  Not bothering to stand, Ethan spared a glance at the chair Slater just vacated.

  “Have a seat, Mr. Slater,” he said. “You’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

  Slater retook his seat. He glanced at his watch again, but the bravado he’d used with Jeffrey was absent from his body language, Ethan observed.

  “I’ll get right to it,” Ethan said. “Jeffery Ritchie is Bat Tower’s most successful recording artist to date, and he’s unhappy with the terms of his contract, which, by the way it’s currently structured, leaves him with little of the profits of his hard work.”

  Megan Howard chimed in, “Mr. Ritchie was a competent adult when he put his signature on this contract.”

  Slater picked up a copy of the contract. “And it says right here, Wangs owes me two more hip-hop-slash-rap albums over the next three years.”

  His lawyer attempted to discreetly shush Slater, who ignored her.

  “We’ll talk again when I get my two albums in three years,” Slater said.

  Ethan shook his head slowly. “In my opinion, that would be shortsighted of you, Mr. Slater. Do you really want an unhappy artist meeting the minimum requirements of his contract, delivering two albums of what may or may not be his best work?”

  He paused to let the question and doubt settle in Slater’s head.

  “I’m sure my client has enough old tracks to put together two quick albums.” Ethan looked at Jeffrey, who nodded.

  “But we have final approval over those tracks,” Megan reminded them.

  “And Wangs here has a rep to uphold,” Slater added. “He’s not going to want to kill his red-hot career by putting out two crap records.”

  Ethan poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher his secretary had left on the table. He took a long, slow sip and set the glass down.

  “The end of Wangs would be tragic for Bat Tower Records, but not so much for Mr. Ritchie, who isn’t seeing much of the profits anyway,” Ethan said. “The end of Wangs would also mean Mr. Ritchie could transition to another phase of his singing career.”

  “Singing?” Slater snorted. “He’s a rapper who can dance, man.”

  Ethan crossed the room and put the CD Jeffery had given him earlier into a slot of the room’s Bose Wave music system. Within seconds, the rich, velvet voice of not Wangs but Jeffery Ritchie filled the room with the song he’d serenaded Ethan and Tia with in Hawaii.

  Ethan tried to block the lyrics of being swept up in a whirlwind romance and finding love where you least expect it, but they’d bypassed the alarm system he’d installed around his heart. Ritchie’s baritone transported Ethan to the arena where he’d first heard the song, held Tia in his arms and come to the powerful realization he loved her.

  He still loved her.

  And he wanted her back, desperately.

  The song ended, and Ethan could see he wasn’t the only one affected by it. Slater’s mouth hung open in shock, and his attorney had tears in her eyes.

  “That was beautiful,” Megan said, staring at Jeffrey through new eyes.

  Slater cleared his throat. “Yeah, man. That was tight. How come you never mentioned being able to sing like that? We need to get you in the studio recording this, like, now.”

  Jeffrey remained mute and looked at Ethan.

  “Mr. Ritchie’s contract specifically states he owes Bat Tower two hip-hop albums, and the exclusivity clause only pertains to him as a hip-hop or rap artist. Since Bat Tower isn’t interested in renegotiating his current deal, I’m sure he’ll want to look elsewhere in terms of his R & B career.” Ethan stood and looked at his watch. “Now, Mr. Slater, I’ll let you get to your golf game.”

  “Wait.” Slater held up his hands in a halting gesture. “You were absolutely right when you said I was being shortsighted. Of course we can rework the terms of Mr. Ritchie’s current contract,” he said, nudging his lawyer.

  Ethan frowned and looked at his client.

  “Actually, why don’t we just rip up his old contract and start over?” Slater said.

  “Retroactive, so my client is properly compensated for selling millions of records?” Ethan asked coolly.

  Slater nodded enthusiastically, looking a bit like a bobblehead doll. “Of course. Of course. Whatever he wants.” He turned to Jeffrey. “We want the number-one bestselling artist on the Bat Tower label to be happy, right?”

  Jeffrey inclined his head toward Ethan.

  “Mr. Ritchie will need some time to think on it,” Ethan said. “I’ll get back to you with his decision.”

  The moment Slater and his attorney cleared the conference room, Jeffrey slapped Ethan a high five.

  “You were awesome,” Jeffrey said. “I can’t even begin to thank you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Ethan replied, his mind fast-forwarding ahead on whether to look for Tia at her office or condo. “And don’t sign anything or as much as talk to Bat Tower about your contract without me.”

  Jeffrey laughed. “After what I just witnessed, I don’t think I want to talk to my own mama without you.”

  Ethan walked briskly toward the door. “Take some time to think about the proposal, and let me know how you want me to proceed. Just give me a call.”

  “Hey, where are you rushing off to so fast? I was thinking we could celebrate.”

  Ethan stopped and turned around. “Another time. I really need to see Tia.”

  Jeffrey snorted and shook his head. “Like I said before, man, you are whipped.”

  Chapter 16

  Ethan strode into the outer office of Espresso spa’s headquarters like a man on a mission.

  At the sight of him, Max immediately pushed away from his desk and blocked his path to the closed office door.

  “Step aside, Max,” Ethan said.

  Max didn’t budge. Instead, he glared and folded his lumberjack arms across his barrel chest.

  Ethan closed his eyes briefly and took a breath to calm down. “Look, I know I screwed things up with her, badly,” he told the giant of a man guarding the door. “I’m here to try to get her back.”

  Max continued to stare at him, unmoved, and then finally unfolded his meaty arms. “Okay, but I’m warning you,” he said. “If you hurt her again, I’ll break both your arms and legs as I twist you into a pretzel.”

  Ethan nodded, knowing his heart had been broken and twisted ever since he’d walked away from Tia in Oklahoma City.

  “I won’t,” he said. If he was fortunate enough to convince her to take him back, he’d spend the rest of his life making her happy.

  Finally, Max moved away from the door.

  Ethan knocked and pushed it open. Tia looked up from behind her frosted-glass desk, and for a split second, her eyes brightened, and he felt the gloom that had settled over him since they’d parted lift.

  “Ethan.” She blinked, and then her expression turned guarded.

  All he could do was stare as he familiarized himself with her beautiful face. He’d been without her just over a week, but it felt like a decade in hell.

  He’d rehearsed his closing argument in the car on the way over, detailing all the reasons she should
take him back. “I’ve missed you,” he blurted out, his carefully crafted speech forgotten. “I’ve missed you so damn bad.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she said, but her expression remained unreadable.

  Ethan looked around the doorway. “Can I come in?”

  Tia nodded. “I suppose you’re here to talk to me about Carol’s poker tournament in Las Vegas,” she said as he crossed the room.

  “It’s part of the reason I came.” He stopped in front of her desk.

  Tia rose from her chair. “I’m not going with you to try to stop her from playing. So don’t bother issuing another ultimatum or threatening to sue me. Because I...”

  Ethan rounded the desk. In one swift motion he took her into his arms. Her mouth opened in surprise, of which he took full advantage. He brushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss filled with tenderness and the love she evoked in him.

  She stared up at him wide-eyed.

  “I’m not here to hand out an ultimatum or stop Grandma from doing anything. I came to ask you to come with me to Las Vegas to root for her,” he said.

  “Ethan, I...”

  He shushed her with another touch of his lips to hers. “That’s only a small part of the reason I’m here,” he said. “I want to apologize for the way I acted at the hospital that day. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  He lifted his hand and smoothed his knuckles down her soft cheek, his other arm still wrapped firmly around her waist. “Give me another chance. I love you, Tia. Let me spend the rest of our lives making you happy.”

  He kissed her a third time, this one unleashing the passion he’d been holding back. She responded, sucking his tongue into her mouth. He could feel the mounds of her breasts as she pressed against him.

  Lost in the kiss, he didn’t feel her hands on his chest until she pushed him away.

  “I love you, too, but how do I know the next time I say or do something you don’t approve of you won’t walk away?”

  “Because I’ve had a glimpse of life without you,” Ethan said. “My grandmother isn’t the only one who got a makeover. You’ve transformed me into a man who can’t go a day without seeing your smile, hearing your laugh or holding you in his arms. I’ll never do anything to deprive myself of those things or you again”

  Ethan watched tears well in Tia’s eyes, and she took his face between her palms. He took her hands in his and kissed them both. “You were right,” he said. “You only have so many breaths in life. I want to take the rest of mine with you at my side.”

  Tia launched herself back into his arms and kissed him hard. “I love you so much,” she said.

  “Enough to commit for a lifetime?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Yes,” she squealed.

  Ethan swept her off her feet in one swift motion and cradled her in his arms. “Pop quiz,” he said, staring at the smile on her beautiful face. “Preacher in a Nashville church or one dressed as Elvis in Las Vegas?”

  Tia winked. “You already know my answer. We finish each other’s sentences, remember?”

  Ethan strode out of her office carrying her in his arms. Max looked at them, and the giant managed to almost smile.

  “Take care of the office, big man,” Ethan said as they made their exit. “Your boss and I have a date with Elvis tonight in Las Vegas.”

  * * * * *

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  ISBN-13: 9781460327531

  EVERY ROAD TO YOU

  Copyright © 2014 by Phyllis Bourne Williams

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