Delilah's Daughters

by Angela Benson

  Delilah laughed. “You’re outrageous, Alisha. You know that, don’t you?”

  Alisha winked. “A woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do.”

  All three women laughed.

  Chapter 17

  As Dexter steered their Buick Lucerne over the bright yellow Seventeenth Street Bridge leading to midtown Atlanta’s Atlantic Station community, Veronica felt a bit like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. There were differences, though. At the end of Veronica’s yellow brick road was the fame and stardom she had only dreamed one day would be hers. Unlike Dorothy, Veronica didn’t want to get back home, but she did wish that she could have brought a bit of home with her.

  “We’re almost there,” Dexter said after they had crossed the bridge and entered into The District, flanked on one corner by a Dillard’s department store and on the other by a high-rise office building. He reached over and squeezed her knee. “In more ways than one. This is our chance, babe. It’s what we’ve always wanted.”

  Veronica put her hand atop her husband’s and smiled. She didn’t want to tell him she was thinking of her mother and sisters. Until a week ago, all of her dreams of fame had been with them beside her.

  “Legends is going to make you a star, and you’re going to make my book a best-seller. Before you know it, we’ll be the hottest couple since Jay-Z and Beyoncé.”

  She laughed. “Jay-Z and Beyoncé?”

  He cut a grin at her. “We’ll see who’s laughing a few years from now when we’re sitting on Oprah’s couch telling her about our new movie.”

  She wanted so much to be as confident as Dexter was about their future, but she just wasn’t there yet. “By the time we make it big, Oprah may not even have a show.”

  He turned and smiled at her as he navigated the car to the right onto Atlantic Square, followed by a quick right onto Sixteenth Street, where their new home was located. “She’ll come back just to interview us.”

  Veronica leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you,” she said. “Even though you’re crazy.”

  “Crazy in love with you.”

  She laughed again at his words, the lyrics from one of Beyoncé’s song. “Just focus on the building numbers,” she said. “I’m ready to see our new home. The studio’s taking care of everything. Can you believe they’re providing us with a place to live?”

  His lips turned down in a frown. “They’re not that generous. The cost of these accommodations will come out of your future earnings.”

  “Still—”

  “I’m not complaining,” he said. “Legends has done well by us. For this first year, at least, we won’t have many out-of-pocket expenses at all. We shouldn’t have to touch much of the advance money they gave us.” He cut a glare at her. “Which is good since you decided to give so much of it away to your mom and sisters.”

  “Not again, Dexter,” she said, not wanting to revive an old argument. “I had to give them that money. It was only fair.”

  “Whatever,” he said, turning his attention back to the street. “We need to watch the addresses closely now. We just passed 400 Sixteenth Street, so 384 should be coming up on the right.”

  “I’m glad 400 isn’t ours,” Veronica said, studying the row of three-story townhouses with art deco facades. “That’s one ugly building. An art deco rowhouse.” She shook her head. “The southern girl in me doesn’t get it.”

  Dexter laughed. “At this price, they’re called brownstones. I sorta like them. They remind me of the SoHo area in New York City. You’ve got to get with the program, babe. Atlantic Station is a haven for artsy types who love the facade of that 400 building.”

  “Whatever you say. I’m still glad we’re not living there.”

  “No,” Dexter said. “Our building is farther down.”

  Veronica grinned as the red brick and white oak structure came into view. It was another row of townhouses like 400, but the facade looked more like what she was used to in the South. She especially liked the French doors leading into the first two floors and the white columns on the second-floor balcony. “Now this is my type of townhouse. It has a porch.”

  Dexter shook his head. “That’s a balcony.”

  She slapped his arm. “Okay, smarty-pants, slow down. We’re coming up on our townhouse.” She pointed to the corner unit. “That’s it,” she said. “I hope it has a garage. From what I’ve read about Atlantic Station, we won’t have much need for driving.”

  “I have no clue,” Dexter said, pulling into a space on the street in front of the unit. “I hope we beat Mr. Washington here. I don’t like the idea of him waiting around for us.” After Dexter parked the car and cut off the engine, he turned to her. “Ready to start your new life?”

  Before she could answer, a bright red convertible with the top down pulled up behind them and a thin woman in a black miniskirt, black thigh-high boots, and red halter stepped out. Veronica glanced at Dexter. “If she’s our neighbor, I have a feeling we’re a bit out of our league.”

  “That’s impossible,” Dexter said, opening his door. “The league will be defined by us. Now, let’s get out so we can meet her.”

  Veronica looked in the side-view mirror. “She’s coming toward the car.” By the time Veronica opened her door and got out, the woman was waiting for her.

  “I’m Tia Martin, your personal assistant from Legends,” she said. “You must be Veronica.” She turned to Dexter after he made his way to the sidewalk. “Tia,” she repeated to him. “And you must be Dexter.”

  Dexter grinned at her and extended his hand. “How’d you guess?” he asked, a big flirty grin showing off his pearly whites.

  Tia inclined her head toward the car. “Alabama tags. Plus, I’ve seen pictures of the both of you.”

  “You have?” Veronica asked before she gave in to the urge to smack her flirting husband upside his head.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” Tia said. “There’s not much about you two that I don’t know. Legends does its homework and I do mine. You belong to them now. They had to know what they were buying.”

  Veronica didn’t like Tia’s phrasing. She didn’t consider herself bought. She was under contract. She was about to make that clarification when Tia added, “Like I said, I’m going to be your personal assistant.” Then she glanced at Dexter. “I’ll work primarily with Veronica, but you’re included too, since you’re part of the package.”

  Dexter hugged Veronica from the side. “And she’s a beautiful and talented package too. I’m one lucky guy.”

  Veronica patted the wrist Dexter had placed around her waist. He’d just made up for the flirting.

  “I’ll ask you about that ‘lucky’ comment after your first week,” Tia said. “Your time here won’t be a party, but I’m here to help you through it. I’ll manage your schedule, get you to all your appointments, and track whether you’re meeting the goals we set for you. My job is to make sure Legends gets a solid return on its investment in you. That means our relationship is bound to have its rocky moments. We’re all adults, so I’m not going to sugarcoat anything I have to say. I don’t have time for it, and frankly, neither do you if you want to be successful in this business. We each have a job to do, and while a friendly relationship between us will help, we don’t have to like each other to get them done. Are we clear?”

  Veronica felt like she was in army boot camp and Tia was her drill sergeant. She resisted the urge to snap to attention and salute. “We’re clear,” she said.

  “And for the record,” Dexter added, “we’re on the same page. We also want Legends to make a healthy return on their investment. They win, we win.”

  Tia nodded and flashed them a smile. Then she pulled some keys out of the pocket of her black miniskirt and waved them in the air. “Now let’s take a look at your new home.”

  Veronica followed Tia and Dexter up the sidewalk to the double doors of their new home. Her husband seemed to have fallen under the woman’s spell, but Veronica was still trying to figure her
out. She’d have to keep an eye on Drill Sergeant Tia.

  Chapter 18

  Tia ended the townhouse tour in the kitchen, with its huge stainless steel side-by-side refrigerator and matching double-oven and industrial-sized island stovetop. Even the double sinks were impressive. Were they a tiny bit larger, Veronica was sure she and Dexter could take baths in them.

  “I know this place can be overwhelming,” Tia said, as if reading her mind. “Of Legends’ five properties here in Atlantic Station, this is one of the best appointed. It was bought and furnished to make a statement about the artists assigned to live here, usually someone major from another label collaborating on a Legends project. Alicia Keyes has stayed here. So has John Legend. Consider yourself lucky. Rarely, if ever, does a new artist get a place this nice.”

  “Not lucky,” Dexter said, flashing his flirty grin again. “Special.”

  Tia chuckled. “Don’t count on it. Nobody’s special at Legends until their album goes gold, preferably platinum. You’d both be wise to remember that fact.”

  Whatever warmth Veronica had begun to feel toward Tia during the tour vanished with those words. She cast a quick glance at her husband to gauge his reaction. He was still grinning like an idiot. Just like a man, she thought. She took a bit of comfort from seeing that Dexter had his eyes on Tia’s face instead of her ample chest (probably fake) or her extremely long legs. While she knew her husband was only trying to charm their new personal assistant, she’d have to speak with him about toning it down a bit. They were no longer in the small towns of Birmingham and Tuscaloosa. This was the Atlanta music scene, and she had read and heard enough to know that the rules for fidelity and monogamy were much more relaxed here than back home. The last thing she needed was for Tia to mistake Dexter’s flirting for an invitation to something more.

  Tia looked at her watch and then checked her iPhone. “I thought Mr. Washington would be here by now. Apparently something has come up, so we’ll have to carry on without him.” She pulled out a stool from the granite bar that separated the kitchen from the breakfast area and sat down. “Take a seat,” she said, thumbing through the screens on her iPhone. “We need to go over your schedule for the coming week.”

  Dexter pulled out the stool facing Tia and waited for Veronica to sit on it. Then he sat on the stool next to hers.

  Tia placed her iPhone on the counter, opened the drawer under the bar countertop, and pulled out two folders. She handed one to Veronica and one to Dexter. Veronica wondered what else Tia had hidden in the townhouse. “I have a question,” Veronica asked. “What about keys to the house?”

  Tia opened the drawer again and pulled out two key rings, each with a single key. She handed one to each of them. “There are four keys to the residence. The two you have, the one I have, and one in the Legends office.”

  Veronica glanced at Dexter and waited for him to complain. When he didn’t, she asked, “You’ll have full access to our home at all times?”

  Tia gave her a condescending smile. “Look at it this way. This townhouse is your home, but it’s also your workplace. Like a property manager, I’ll use my key only when there’s a need. And even then, I’ll always ring the bell before entering. That’s the best I can do. It’s probably not the level of privacy that you’d prefer, but that’s the way it has to be. There have been times when I’ve had to drag drunk artists out of bed or break up all-night parties. I need access if I’m going to do my job and make sure you meet all your commitments. Can you two live with that?”

  “Of course we can,” Dexter said. “We don’t plan to give you any need to access our home, so there’s no problem.” He put his arm around the back of Veronica’s stool. “Is there, babe?”

  Veronica shook her head. “None at all.”

  “Good. Now let’s get back to the calendar.”

  Veronica opened the folder Tia had placed before her. She skimmed the pages, noting there was a schedule for each day of the next two weeks.

  “Let’s start with the good news,” Tia said, pulling out the top sheet in her own folder. “You’ll have the rest of the afternoon and evening free after we finish going over the schedule. I advise you to use the time to get settled. The kitchen is not fully stocked yet, so you’ll probably want to go out for dinner. There are several great restaurants within walking distance, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “No problem at all,” Dexter said. “We like to explore new places.”

  Tia nodded. “There’s an envelope in the back of your folder with a Legends credit card for your meals and incidentals. You have a per diem as indicated on the accompanying paperwork. I’ll need you both to complete and sign the company credit card use agreement before I leave tonight.”

  Veronica glanced at Dexter. He was grinning, but it didn’t bother her this time since she was sure her own grin matched his. Legends was really taking good care of them. Maybe Dexter was right and they wouldn’t need to touch her advance after all.

  “Okay,” Tia said. “Now back to the schedule. The real work starts tomorrow.”

  The day didn’t appear too demanding to Veronica. All she had listed was an all-day spa session, which sounded more like vacation than work.

  “Tomorrow, Monday, is going to be one of your toughest days,” Tia said. “You’re going to be poked and prodded by somewhere from eight to ten people, each of them analyzing and criticizing some part of your hair, face, and body. It’s going to be tough to hear some of the things that are said, but you’ll have to bear it. Just remember that whatever anybody does, they’re doing to perfect your image, the brand that we want to sell the public. You’re going to be a performer, and your look has to be exactly right.”

  “You can handle it, babe,” Dexter said to her.

  “Veronica won’t be the only one who’s poked and prodded,” Tia said, looking at Dexter. “You will be as well.”

  Dexter’s eyes widened. “Me?”

  Tia nodded. “If Veronica is going to be a star, you have to look the part of the star’s husband.”

  Veronica patted him on his two-pack. “You can handle it, babe,” she said, throwing his words back at him. She grinned broadly because her husband was no longer smiling.

  “As for the rest of the week,” Tia continued, looking at Veronica, “you’ll spend Tuesday with your trainer, nutritionist, and chef.”

  “Thank goodness for the chef,” Veronica said. “This kitchen was built for someone whose culinary talents greatly exceed mine. I’d be lost in here.”

  “You won’t be spending much time in here at all,” Tia said. “The chef will prepare your meals each day.” She looked back down at her folder. “On Wednesday, you’ll make the rounds to several of the fashion designers who dress Legends clients. Here, again, expect to be poked and prodded. And criticized.”

  So far, so good, Veronica thought. She had a thick skin anyway. Having two sisters meant she’d developed one a long time ago. She had no doubt she could handle everything they threw at her, though she did wonder when they’d get to the music. After all, they’d signed her to be a singer and performer, right?

  “Thursday will be another tough day,” Tia said. “You’ll spend it with your public relations assistant, photographer, and videographer. This will be a grueling day from a mental and physical perspective. The PR person is going to seem more like a psychologist, poking and prodding into your psyche. It’ll be intense. We need to prepare you for the media, and we need to be prepared for the media and anything they know or may find out about you that could be harmful to your career or to Legends.” She tapped the tip of her iPhone stylus on the counter. “You must take each of these meetings very seriously, and you must be forthcoming. We can deal with practically any indiscretion if we have time to come up with the proper spin. What we can’t deal with is being caught off-guard. Understood?”

  “Understood,” Veronica said.

  Dexter nodded.

  “Finally,” Tia said, “on Friday you’ll get to do what you
came here to do—sing. You’ll spend the day with your voice coach and have meetings with several different producers we’ve lined up to work on your first album.”

  “I can’t wait,” Veronica said, wanting to pinch herself to make sure all this was real and not a dream from which she’d soon awaken.

  “You don’t get weekends off,” Tia continued, “so on Saturday you’ll meet with your dance instructor. This probably won’t be an all-day meeting, but knowing him, he’s going to give you homework, which typically includes making you watch film of concert performances of some top acts. Saturday night will probably include a trip to a dance club.”

  “I think Saturday is going to be my most enjoyable day,” Veronica said. “I love dancing.”

  Tia eyed her. “Well, there’s dancing and then there’s performance dancing. Don’t kid yourself. Working with the choreographer will be hard work.”

  Veronica considered explaining to Tia that dancers knew and enjoyed the work of dancing. She didn’t bother because the concept was usually foreign to nondancers. “The dance club should be fun,” she said instead. “I can’t imagine how even you can turn that into work.”

  Tia grimaced. “You’ll soon learn that every public event is work for you. I hope the dance club is an enjoyable and relaxing experience, but you can’t ever forget that you’re always performing because people are always watching. You always have to be on your best behavior. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Veronica said. Drill sergeant, she added silently.

  “Will I tag along with Veronica on Friday and Saturday?” Dexter asked.

  Tia shook her head. “Usually your schedule will follow hers, but this week will be a little different. On Friday and Saturday, our publishing group is sponsoring a retreat for our authors and publishing team, and you’re invited. The publishing team will shepherd your book. I’m not sure of the details yet, but I promise to get a full schedule to you by Wednesday.”