Phoebe smiled widely and pushed her into the dressing room. “Perfect; let’s get moving.”
Deborah pushed aside her doubts, thinking instead of how she’d look to Triage. After all, she was in Hollywood now, and she needed to start acting that way.
CHAPTER 31
DEBORAH STAYED IN HER APARTMENT ALL DAY. She talked to her parents and Willetta, caught up on the latest novel, wrote in her journal, and watched the clock. Four hours before she was to leave, she filled the tub with warm water and lavender bath salts. Even though the sun tried to force its rays through the tiny bathroom window, she burned candles on the tub’s edge, savoring the sweetness of the minutes. With her eyes closed, she tried to imagine what the night would bring, and she smiled as Triage’s face came to her mind.
She still wasn’t sure what she was going to say to him, but there was one thing she was sure of—she’d take Phoebe’s advice. If Triage kissed her again, she would respond. She’d never go as far as Phoebe suggested, but she’d leave no doubt that she was interested.
After the long bath, she took her time fixing her hair and applying makeup, using the tips she’d learned on the road. By the time Deborah slipped into the dress, the churning that she’d felt in her stomach about being naked underneath had disappeared. She knew she looked good, and she knew that Triage would appreciate it. Tonight was going to be her night.
Deborah had declined Phoebe’s offer to ride with her. Not only did Deborah want to leave all her options open, but Phoebe was bringing her new man to the party, and Deborah hated being the third wheel. She hadn’t heard from Vianca, who was probably staying with Lavelle. So Deborah was more than happy to drive herself to the party.
Her plan had been to arrive early because she was singing. But the valet service that Lavelle had hired was already backed up with lines of waiting Mercedeses and Rolls Royces. Deborah sat for almost fifteen minutes before one of the young men opened her door. She chuckled when he frowned at her Camry. She could almost hear him ask “What is she doing here?”
The staff greeted Deborah by taking her wrap and offering her champagne. Deborah declined the refreshment and walked into the large sunken living room.
She’d never been to Lavelle’s house, though she’d seen it featured in Metropolitan Home and Architectural Digest many times and felt as if she knew where each room was.
She wandered through the living room looking for a familiar face. She saw Lavelle and Vianca laughing with people she didn’t know, and she continued her stroll into the next room. She smiled when she saw Triage’s back. She moved toward him, but then stopped when he turned. As he moved, Tia came into view. Her arm was folded around his, and Triage kissed her cheek as they laughed.
The knife-sharp pain that pierced her heart kept Deborah’s legs bolted to the floor, but only for a few moments. As she turned to walk away, Triage saw her.
“Deborah,” he called, dropping Tia’s hand.
She turned back to face him and pasted a smile on her face. “Triage, I didn’t see you.”
He smiled widely. “Welcome home.” He hugged her. “It’s good to see you.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“Hey, I want you to meet a friend of mine.” He took Tia’s hand. “Tia, this is my good friend Deborah.”
Tia reached her hand toward her. “Deborah Anne, I’ve heard so much about you.”
Her good home training allowed Deborah to keep smiling as she shook Tia’s hand.
“Excuse me, I have to find Lavelle.”
Triage placed his hand on Deborah’s shoulder. “Is everything all right? You seem different.”
She nodded and waved her hand, then rushed off to find refuge in another room. She made her way to the bathroom, but when that door was locked, she ran up the curved staircase, knowing she’d find one on the second level.
She locked the door, but didn’t bother to turn on the light. Instead, she sat on the padded vanity bench and held her face in her hands.
How could I have been so stupid? she thought.
It was the knocking on the door that made her stand. Still in the dark, she smoothed her dress and opened the door, but then was pushed back inside by Phoebe.
“I saw you come up here,” Phoebe said as she closed the door behind her and turned on the light. “Please don’t tell me that this has anything to do with Triage being here with Tia.”
Deborah shrugged.
“You know why he’s here with her, don’t you?” When Deborah remained silent, Phoebe continued. “Their agents probably put them together because Triage didn’t have a date. They knew that the media would be here, and Triage’s people are always very concerned about his image.”
Deborah looked at Phoebe’s reflection in the mirror. “How do you know that? How do you know that he’s not really involved with Tia?”
“Because of the way he looks at you. I saw it when you guys were backstage in Chicago, and I saw it just now. There’s a chemistry that neither one of you have acknowledged.”
“The only chemistry that you see is what’s coming from me,” Deborah moaned. “I just read too much into the times I’ve spent with Triage.”
“You’re reading too much into what you’re seeing now. Believe me, this is a fix-up.”
“Why would Triage have to be fixed up?” Deborah asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Phoebe sighed and rolled her eyes. “I love you, Deborah, but sometimes, you are so naïve. Triage’s people are always putting him with some model or actress because they want to squelch the rumors.”
Deborah frowned in question.
“They don’t want anyone to think that Triage is gay.”
Deborah turned around to face Phoebe directly. “He’s gay?”
“No! I know that for a fact.” Phoebe held up her hand when she saw the question on Deborah’s face. “Don’t ask, but the thing is Triage has never been one to sleep around, or grab the first piece who throws herself at him. Because of that, rumors started, and though Triage doesn’t seem to care, the people who manage him do. So, when they have to, they put him with women.”
Deborah shook her head.
“But none of that matters. Because if you want Triage, you’re going to have to go after him.”
Deborah took a deep breath, fixed a smile, then hugged Phoebe. “Thanks, but I’ll handle it my way.”
Phoebe sighed and shrugged, then turned out the light as Deborah stepped into the hall. They walked down the stairs together. “Where’s Thomas? I wanted to introduce you to him,” Phoebe said as her eyes wandered the room.
“I see Lavelle. I want to tell him that I’m here. I’ll catch up with you later.”
She walked over to where Lavelle stood with Vianca and Emerald. “Hey, you are here.” He kissed her cheek.
“We were getting ready to sing without you.” Vianca smiled and took her hand. “Let’s go. We’ve got to sing this for my baby.”
A small stage had been set in the middle of the living room, and Vianca began singing the traditional version of “Happy Birthday,” while Emerald and Deborah took Lavelle’s hand and led him onto the stage.
When Vianca sang “Happy birthday, dear Lavelle,” the three women began clapping their hands, and switched to Stevie Wonder’s version. As the crowd joined in, Deborah allowed her eyes to search for Triage, and she found him, standing in the back with Tia at his side. Even when she looked away, Deborah could feel Triage’s stare and was grateful when the birthday chorus ended and she left the stage.
She chatted as she passed people she knew on her way to the front door. But just as she got to the foyer, Triage grabbed her hand and pulled her into the downstairs bathroom. He locked the door behind them.
She held her hands in the air. “What is it with you LA people and the bathroom?”
Triage frowned. “What are you talking about?”
She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest.
“Deborah, what’s goin
g on with you?”
“I’m trying to go home.”
“You haven’t said one word to me all night.”
She dropped her eyes. “I haven’t been here that long. And I didn’t want to interfere with your date.”
He lifted her face with his fingers. “Is that what’s bothering you? Why do you have a problem with Tia?”
She didn’t answer him, fearing that if she opened her mouth, tears would follow.
“Deborah, is there something going on here that I don’t know about?”
She barely shook her head. This was embarrassing, almost humiliating. How did she get here?
With as much strength as she could gather, Deborah forced words through her lips. “Triage, I’m not feeling well, and I want to go home.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Give me a minute,” he yelled, then turned back to Deborah. “I’m not letting you out of here until you talk to me. I thought we were friends.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Is that what you thought?”
“Deborah, you’re going to have to talk to me.”
There was another knock on the door; this time Triage didn’t answer.
“There are people waiting to get in here, Triage.”
“Well, they are going to wait a long time. I’m not letting you go anywhere until you talk to me.”
“I can’t. Not now and not here.”
“Okay.” He paused, thoughtful. “What about tomorrow? Let’s get together.”
The banging was more insistent. “Is anyone in there?”
“One second,” Triage yelled back. To Deborah, he said, “What about it? Tomorrow?”
Deborah remained silent, but jumped when the banging continued on the door. “Triage, we have to get out of here.”
He leaned against the door and folded his arms.
Deborah looked around the small bathroom. There was no way out—except past the man who blocked the door. “All right,” she relented. “Tomorrow.”
He continued his stance. “What time?”
She sighed exasperatedly. “Whatever . . .”
He didn’t move. “I want a commitment.”
She held up her hands. “At noon,” she said, giving in.
He smiled, and his eyes moved over her body. “Thank you.”
“Hey buddy, other people want to use the bathroom.”
As he opened the door, Triage whispered, “You really look fantastic.”
Deborah rushed past the line that had formed at the door.
“Hey, I was just taking care of a little business. Sorry,” she heard Triage say behind her.
There were laughs in the hallway, but she didn’t wait to hear anything else. Deborah rushed through the hall to the foyer, then out the door.
CHAPTER 32
THOUGH SHE HADN’T SLEPT MUCH, SHE FELT amazingly alert. She had played through the scene with Triage over and over again all night. How could she have acted that way? How could she have thought there was anything between them? They were just friends—he’d made that abundantly clear, and now she would have to face the humiliation of another meeting.
What was she going to say? How would she get out of it?
“I’ll just feign illness,” she said aloud, pacing the small room. “I’ll tell him I was sick last night and I don’t feel well now.” She fell onto the couch, but within a few seconds, Triage rang her doorbell.
She looked at the clock. Five to twelve. With a deep breath, she opened the door and smiled.
“Hi.”
He smiled and stepped into her apartment. “As I was driving over here, I was thinking you probably wouldn’t be living here much longer.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know this studio has to be getting to you.”
“I have been looking for a condo or something. I could use the space and the investment.”
“Really? You should let me help you. I know a lot of people in the real estate business.”
She nodded and folded her arms in front of her. He had already sat on the couch, and with just the one other chair in the room, she had to sit across from him.
His stare made her uncomfortable, but she refused to speak first. He was the one who had called this meeting.
“Deborah, are you mad at me?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Maybe because you’re having a hard time looking at me. Or maybe because last night the only way I got you to talk to me was to hold you hostage. Or maybe—”
She held up her hands. “You don’t have to go on. I’m not mad. I just wasn’t feeling well last night. And I still don’t feel up to par.” Her fake cough sounded hollow.
“Sounds like you’re getting better.” He smirked.
“What did you want to talk about, Triage?” She sighed. “I have things to do.”
He leaned forward. “Which is it, Deborah? Are you sick or are you busy?”
She folded her arms but remained silent.
He sighed. “Okay, I’ll say it first.” He stood, then knelt on the floor in front of her. “Deborah, is there something going on here?” he asked softly.
Her heart began to beat faster, but she remained silent.
“I mean, between us. I’m feeling that maybe there’s a little more . . .”
When she still didn’t respond, he leaned toward her, lifted her chin and kissed her gently on the lips.
Her heart pounded, but she didn’t move, frozen in place, waiting.
He leaned back. “That’s what I thought.”
For the first time, she smiled.
“Deborah, I can’t have this conversation by myself.”
She sighed. “I know,” she whispered. “It’s just that I got so hurt last night, I don’t know what to say now.”
“Oh . . . so that’s what last night was about.” She stood, but in the small room, there was nowhere for her to go. So she sat on the couch, in the place where Triage had just been sitting.
“I’m so embarrassed. There was no reason for the way I acted last night. I felt like a jealous girlfriend.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, we’re past that, but where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had a conversation like this since high school, when Philip Harper asked me to go steady.”
He laughed. “Okay, so maybe we don’t have to go there just now. Maybe we should just try taking our relationship up a notch and see what happens.”
“Is that what you want to do? You’re not doing this because of what happened last night?”
“No . . . this is all on me. I wondered if there was anything between us since I first kissed you. But when you didn’t say or do anything—”
“It wasn’t because I didn’t want to. I just didn’t want to mess up our friendship.”
He laughed and sat on the edge of the couch. “You can’t do that. I hope, no matter what, we’ll always be friends.” He lifted her chin. “You’re my homegirl, remember?” His voice was husky.
She nodded as he moved closer to her, and this time when he kissed her, she responded, putting her arms around his neck and allowing her tongue to finally meet his. They were both breathing heavily by the time Deborah pulled away.
“As the preacher says, amen!”
Deborah laughed. “You’re so crazy!”
“I think we should consummate this agreement with a date. Let me take you out to lunch.”
“Okay,” she said as she reached for her purse and sweater.
He held her hand as they walked to his car, and as he helped her into the Ranger Rover he asked, “Deborah, whatever happened to your cold?”
She pursed her lips and slammed the door. But as he walked around to his side of the car, she tingled with excitement. They hadn’t even had their first real date, and Deborah already felt like she was in love.
After lunch, they walked silently hand in hand
on the hard sand where the ocean met the coast. The Santa Monica beach was still sprinkled with people wanting to get their last feel of the summer, even though it was the middle of September. Deborah was pleased that none of them had recognized Triage; she guessed those large dark glasses and cap really did work.
Suddenly, Triage grabbed a small stick from the sand and ran a few feet ahead. “What are you doing?” Deborah asked as he leaned over and began writing in the sand.
When he finished, Triage stood and kissed her. “Well,” he said.
She looked down at the words he’d written in the sand: Deborah, would you go with me?
She nodded, and they sealed their agreement with a kiss.
CHAPTER 33
OVER THE NEXT WEEKS, DEBORAH AND TRIAGE tried to spend time together, but their schedules made it difficult. Deborah was in the studio working on the new album, as well as new steps for the second half of the tour.
Triage was recording a music video that took him up and down the California coast, leaving Deborah to wonder what kind of life they would have if their relationship did progress.
She missed having Triage around all the time—especially after stress-filled days with the emotional divas—Emerald, Vianca, and Lavelle. Even though they’d finished almost half of the album, Lavelle decided to add a duet with Deborah to both the album and the tour, which brought concern from Emerald.
“What does this mean for my song?” Emerald demanded.
“Absolutely nothing,” Lavelle snapped. “You’ll still sing. I’ll just be singing more.”
“How come I’m not being given a chance for a duet?” Vianca cried.
Deborah stepped into the hall, not wanting to be part of the ensuing scene. When it was over, she was still singing with Lavelle. Emerald’s duet would come first on the album and would be last in the show.
When Triage was in town, they spent their time together—even going to church—and she was proud when Triage was able to find most scriptures on his own.
“See, I’m studying,” he whispered one Sunday when the pastor told them to turn to Haggai, and he found the scripture in his Bible before Deborah got to hers.
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