Summer Vows

by Rochelle Alers

  Camille could care less about an East Coast–West Coast hip-hop rivalry reminiscent of the 1990s hostility between Death Row and Bad Boys Records. She was being paid a salary that exceeded her qualifications when she’d first come to work for the company. However, she’d made good use of the steady paycheck. She rented a small apartment in an up-and-coming neighborhood and had enrolled in a secretarial school where she’d taken the courses needed to become an efficient executive assistant.

  She took care of Basil’s needs in and out of the boardroom. In the throes of passion he’d admitted she was the best “lay” he’d ever had. Camille didn’t mind the epithet, because she’d been called worse. She’d planned to use everything in her feminine arsenal to get whatever she needed from Basil before his reign of terror came to an abrupt end. And she knew it would end. She’d started hustling at an early age, and now at twenty-six she knew it was just a matter of time before her face and body would fail to attract men who were willing to trade money for sex.

  Sitting at the desk outside her boss’s office, she inserted the flash drive into a port and began transcribing the letter. After saving what she’d typed and printing it out, Camille returned the drive to a locked drawer in her desk. At the end of the workday she returned the flash drive to Basil, who locked it in his desk. There were documents on the drive that could incriminate the executives of Slow Wyne and could send them to jail for either life or for very lengthy sentences. She could care less about the inner workings of the record company. She was just an employee following orders.

  Camille read and reread what she’d typed, tapped slightly on Basil’s door and walked into his office when he told her to enter. She left the letter and envelope in his inbox and turned to leave.

  “I’ll see you later tonight.” It wasn’t a request, but a command.

  She nodded, smiling. It was her birthday and Camille had hinted to Basil there was a bracelet in a Beverly Hills jewelry store she wanted. If he didn’t get her the bracelet, then she was certain he would give her something comparable.

  Boca Raton, Florida

  Ana Cole sat across the table for two in her favorite Boca Raton restaurant, smiling at her cousin. She usually interacted with Tyler Cole twice a year—at Thanksgiving and the week between Christmas Eve and New Year’s Day, but that was never enough for her. Of all of her many male cousins, Tyler was her favorite. He was like an older brother and father-figure rolled into one. And it wasn’t that she wasn’t able to talk to her father, but Tyler was usually more objective than David Cole—especially when it came to her relationships.

  The first time she’d fallen in love and confessed to her father that her boyfriend had cheated on her, David Cole’s response was that he would hunt him down and break his legs. Then it was her brother Gabriel who’d insinuated himself into her love life, monitoring and intimidating the men whose lifestyles were diametrically opposed to the way they were raised. Years later, after her first and only serious relationship ended, Ana lied to her father for the first time in her life. The man with whom she believed was her soul mate had also cheated on her. This time she confided in Tyler, who told her to regard every man who showed an interest in her as a potential husband. If she couldn’t see herself spending the next fifty years with him, then she should not go beyond a third date. Ana had taken his advice and now at thirty-three she felt secure in her career and her personal life.

  Her dimpled smile matched Tyler’s. “How’s the family?”

  Picking up the napkin at his place setting, Tyler spread it over his lap. “They’re wonderful. The boys are growing like weeds and Astra is the indisputable boss of the house.”

  Ana speared a forkful of the Cesar salad with grilled shrimp. “Don’t you want another daughter, Tyler?”

  Tyler’s dark eyes met a pair in amber with gold glints. Ana reminded him of a delicate raven-haired doll. Her short hair was always coiffed, her olive-brown skin flawless and her delicate features, dimpled smile and petite figure had most men giving her a second glance.

  “Are you certain you’re not clairvoyant?”

  Ana’s fork paused in midair. “No. Am I missing something primo?”

  “Dana’s pregnant, and this time it’s a girl.”

  A tiny shriek slipped past her lips and Ana glanced around the crowded restaurant to see if anyone had heard her. It appeared as if the other diners were too engrossed in their food or their dining companions. “That’s incredible news! When is she due?”

  “Mid-September.”

  She did the mental calculation. Her cousin’s wife was five months pregnant, and this was her first time hearing about it. “Is Dana all right?” she asked.

  Tyler expressive black eyebrows lifted a fraction. “She’s good. We decided not to say anything until all tests indicated the baby is normal.” He smiled. “I called my mom and dad earlier this morning to give them the good news.”

  Leaning back in her chair, Ana stared at Tyler. Like so many men in her family, he had begun graying in his thirties. The brilliant ob-gyn was now in his late forties and was to become a father for the fourth time. He’d named his first son after his father and the second one after his paternal grandfather, while he and Dana adopted their daughter after the infant’s orphaned mother died in childbirth. Now Astra was about to become a big sister.

  “I know you’re here for a conference, but do you think you’ll have time to go up to West Palm to see your folks?”

  Tyler took a sip of sparkling water. “They’re driving down tonight. I’m scheduled to chair one panel and sit on one, both on the same day. I’m not flying back to Mississippi until Friday. I told Dana I was going to stay an extra day to reconnect with my sister, but when I called Arianna her housekeeper said she, Silah and their kids had just left for Paris.”

  The Kadirs lived in Fort Lauderdale when their children were in school and in their fashion designer father’s native Morocco during the summer months. The Kadir children spoke English, Spanish and French. Tyler shook his head. “My sisters are gypsies,” he continued. “The only time I get to see Arianna is during Thanksgiving and the week of Christmas.”

  Reaching across the table, Ana placed her hand on Tyler’s. “You’re turning into your father, complaining that he doesn’t see his children or grandchildren enough.”

  “Wait until you have children, Ana, and then you’ll realize what it is to have your children spread out all over the world. My kids are still young, but I miss my sisters. Regina lives in Brazil, but she only comes to the States once or twice a year. Arianna divides her time between Florida and North Africa or Europe. At least your father has his children and grandchildren within a couple of hours of a car or plane ride.” He reversed their hands. “Enough talk about the family. What about you? How are you doing?”

  A smile parted Ana’s lips. “Life is good for Serenity Records. Justin Glover—aka O’Quan Gee’s debut album is number one on the Billboard chart.”

  Tyler angled his head and laughed, attractive lines fanning out around his large eyes. Anyone looking at him and Ana would’ve taken them for brother and sister. The first cousins had inherited their paternal grandmother’s olive coloring, delicate features and dimpled smile.

  “I wasn’t talking about rappers and hip-hop artists, Ana. I’m talking about you. Are you seeing anyone?”

  She averted her gaze. “Not right now.” Her eyes met and fused with Tyler’s. “To tell you the truth it has been a while since I’ve been involved with a man. I have male friends I can call if I don’t want to go a social function by myself, but most times I attend the award ceremonies with Jason.”

  “You can’t marry your brother, Ana.”

  She laughed quietly. “I know that, Tyler, but he’s the only man, other than those in my family, that I can trust.” Without warning, Ana sobered. “Can you answer one question for me?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why do men cheat?”

  The seconds ticked as Tyler stared at somethi
ng over Ana’s shoulder. “I can’t answer that because I’ve never cheated on Dana.”

  “How about your girlfriends before you married her?”

  His gaze swung back to her. “I’d never cheated on them, either. Even if I’d wanted to I could never forget what Abuela went through with grandpa when she’d discovered he had fathered an illegitimate child.”

  “Uncle Josh is as much a part of our family as your dad or mine,” Ana argued softly.

  “I’m not saying he isn’t, Ana. It shouldn’t have taken more than thirty years for everyone to accept him as a Cole even though his last name was Kirkland.”

  She exhaled an audible sigh. “Our grandfather cheated on our grandmother, and I can’t seem to find a man who doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with sleeping with more than one woman at the same time. It’s the same with celebrities. They date one woman and father a child, then move on to the next without a pang of conscience that they’ve become a serial baby daddy.”

  “Therein is your problem. You have to stop dating guys in the business.”

  “I would if I happened to meet one who’s not in the business. But, day in and day out it’s songwriters, musicians, recording artists and producers. I’m ready to try one of those dating sites, but with my luck I’ll end up with a psycho.”

  “Don’t do that, Ana. I can always hook you up with one of my colleagues.”

  She shook her head. “And have him think I’m desperate. I don’t have a problem attracting men, Tyler. It’s just that I attract the wrong ones. Would you believe I was hit on by a twenty-year-old?”

  Tyler swallowed a mouthful of savory crab cake. “Who’s that?”

  “Justin Glover aka O’Quan Gee aka OG.”

  “What’s up with the stage names? Why doesn’t he just go by Justin Glover?”

  “He’s a crossover artist. He’ll record pop and R&B under Justin and rap and hip-hop as O’Quan Gee.”

  Tyler chuckled under his breath. “How does it feel to be a cougar?”

  Ana rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so, Tyler. There is nothing a twenty-year-old can do for me. I have enough trouble with immature thirtysomething baby boys. And for all his musical genius Justin may prove to be a problem.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “He’s good and he knows it. But I’ll let Jason handle the musical end of his career. I had enough issues trying to convince him to sign with Serenity instead of Slow Wyne. It ended in a bidding war where we signed him for less than what Slow Wyne would’ve offered, but our perks are more lucrative. We also included a morality clause at the insistence of our publicist: no drugs, DUIs or DWIs and he cannot become involved in any paternity suits for the term of his contract.”

  “How long is his contract?”

  “Two years with an option to renew for an additional two. Slow Wyne wanted to tie him up for two years with a five year option. Negotiations became a little dicey when Basil Irvine went gangsta on me, but in the end he had to back down.”

  “What do you mean he went gangsta?”

  Staring at the twitching muscle in her cousin’s jaw, Ana chided herself for mentioning the telephone conversation between herself and the CEO of Slow Wyne. “He said I would pay for stealing Justin away from him.”

  “Pay how, Ana?”

  She forced a brittle smile. “I don’t know. He didn’t go into detail.”

  “Aren’t you concerned that he threatened you?” Tyler asked.

  “Not really. He was just acting like a little boy who couldn’t get his way. Basil Irvine doesn’t have the best reputation when it comes to his artists. He will throw a few dollars at them—more money than they’ve ever seen to win them over. He also has a reputation for hosting elaborate parties for his artists complete with beautiful women, premium champagne and I suspect drugs, and in the end he’ll own their souls. His performers make a lot of money, but unfortunately too many of them die before they’re able to get what’s coming to them. If they’re not involved in some feud or have beef with another performer, then it’s a drug overdose.”

  “I want you to be careful, because this clown sounds like he’s going to be trouble,” Tyler warned softly.

  “If he wants trouble, then he’ll get it,” Ana countered. “As soon as he issued the threat I told him I was going to tape all of our conversations. I suppose it was enough for him to back off. He sent me a letter last month congratulating Serenity after Justin’s album debuted at number one.”

  “What was your response?”

  “I called and thanked him personally. He mentioned something about sharing drinks at the next Grammy awards, and I told him I would make certain to set aside time to meet with him.”

  “So, you’ve kissed and made up?”

  Ana’s mouth twisted. “We’re more like fremenies.”

  “Friend or enemy, you still should watch him.”

  Waving her hand in a dismissive gesture, Ana affected a bored expression. “I try not to give him a passing thought.”

  Tyler glanced at his watch, touched the napkin to the corners of his mouth and then placed it beside his plate. “I hate to eat and run, but I want to go back to my hotel and unwind before I go over my notes for tomorrow’s presentation.”

  Ana realized her cousin must have gotten up early to fly in from Mississippi. She’d offered to have him stay in her condo, but Tyler said it was more convenient to check into the hotel where the conference was to take place. Reaching into her handbag, she took out her wallet and placed enough money on the table to cover their meal and a generous tip.

  “Thanks for sharing lunch.”

  Tyler winked at her. “Thanks for inviting me and next time it’s on me.” Pushing back his chair, he stood up and came around the table to ease back Ana’s chair. “Are you coming to Hillsboro for Thanksgiving?”

  She looked at him. “Are you sure Dana’s going to be up to hosting Thanksgiving so soon after giving birth?”

  “We’re having it catered.”

  She nodded. Although she wasn’t married and had no children Ana always got together with her cousins and their families for Thanksgiving. Their parents had complained that Thanksgiving was a family holiday, but the younger generation stood firm when they’d decided to exercise a modicum of independence. The result was a livelier and unrestrained gathering with an ever-increasing number of children running around in abandon.

  Arm in arm they left the restaurant and walked out into the brilliant late-spring Florida sunshine. Ana placed a pair of sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, Tyler following suit. “Where are you parked?”

  He pointed to a late-model silver sedan. “I’m right here. Where are you parked?”

  “I’m around on the other side.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “That’s all right.” Going on tiptoe, Ana pressed a kiss to Tyler’s cheek. “If I don’t see you before you go back to Mississippi I’ll definitely see you for Thanksgiving.”

  Winding his arms around Ana’s waist, Tyler pulled her close. Dipping his head, he whispered in her ear. “Stay out of trouble.”

  “What are you—” Her words stopped when a sharp sound pierced the humid air. Tyler’s arms fell away as he crumbled to the ground in slow-motion like fluttering confetti. All warmth fled from her body, replaced by an icy-coldness that wouldn’t permit Ana to move. It seemed like an eternity where it was only seconds before she was able to scream when she sank to the ground beside her cousin’s body. The screams kept coming until people in the parking lot raced over to see what the commotion was about.

  Her eyes wide with fear and panic, Ana screamed, “Help me!” She cradled Tyler to her bosom, her white blouse stained red with the warm blood seeping from his chest wound. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow. The wait seemed interminable, but off in the distance she heard the sound of wailing sirens.

  “Let me have a look at him.”

  She glanced up to find an elderly man kneeling beside her. Her brain
refused to process what had just happened. How could someone shoot Tyler and she not see them? She hadn’t noticed anyone close to them in the parking lot. Ana tightened her hold on her cousin’s neck. “No.”

  “Please, miss. I’m a doctor.”

  “No!” She screamed again, this time when a pair of strong hands pulled her up and held her fast. Ana fought like a cat, crying and clawing, but she wasn’t able to free herself from the arms that held her like manacles.

  Some of the fight went out of her, and she slumped against the wide chest of a man who towered above her by a full head. The wail of sirens came closer and closer and within minutes first responders and police officers filled the restaurant’s parking lot. She was barely coherent when she gave an officer the account of what she didn’t see.

  Working quickly, the paramedics stabilized Tyler, placing him on a gurney as she stood numbly by. A crime-scene unit had arrived as Ana was helped into the rear of the ambulance. Reaching for Tyler’s hand, she closed her eyes and prayed.

  * * *

  Ana sat in the family room at her parents’ house, reacting like an automaton. She’d become a prisoner. Easygoing, laidback David Claridge Cole had turned into a tyrant, taking the keys to her car and condo, while declaring he had no intention of burying any of his children and if he had to shackle her to keep her from leaving, then he would. Ana knew her father was incensed because she hadn’t divulged the details of the negotiations to sign Justin Glover, and she’d argued because he was no longer involved with the day-to-day operation of the recording label she wasn’t obligated to apprise him of the proceedings.

  And the media had exacerbated the situation when headlines blared about the attempted murder of a member of one of Florida’s most prominent families. An undisclosed source told a reporter at The Miami Herald about the alleged ongoing feud between Slow Wyne Records and Serenity Records, and that Dr. Tyler Cole unintentionally had become collateral damage. Ana prayed the source hadn’t come from Serenity, because all the employees had signed a confidentiality agreement as a condition to employment. And if not them, the rumors had to come from someone in the Slow Wyne camp.