Delilah's Daughters

by Angela Benson

  “No problem,” Dexter said. “I’m eager to meet the team and get a better understanding of their vision for the book. I want to get started right away.”

  “So will Sunday be a free day?” Veronica asked.

  “Like I said,” Tia reminded her, “there are no off days. Sunday will be a structured day of social events. First, you’ll attend a church that many of our artists attend. Afterward, you’ll be Mr. Washington’s guest for a working lunch. He’ll talk to you about the reports he’s gotten from each of the people you’re meeting with this week. I can’t emphasize enough the importance of this meeting. Finally, later Sunday evening, I’ll meet with you here to go over your schedule for next week.” Tia closed her folder. “That’s it. Are there any questions?”

  “None,” Dexter said.

  Veronica knew she had questions, but her brain couldn’t process them now. Tia hadn’t given her just a schedule, she’d given her a pattern for a new life. How could she be expected to come up with a rational question when everything that had been said to her seemed unreal? “None,” she said, repeating after her husband.

  “Good enough,” Tia said, getting up from the bar. “Why don’t you two complete those credit card forms while I make a few phone calls? Once that’s done, I’ll leave you for the evening and you won’t see me again until eight tomorrow morning.”

  After Tia left the kitchen, Veronica released a breath. “This is really happening, isn’t it?” she asked her husband.

  “It certainly is.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she said, “It’s like a dream. Pinch me so I’ll know it’s real.”

  Dexter obliged her with a pinch on her forearm and her eyes popped open. “You’re not dreaming,” he said. “This is our new life, and I couldn’t be more pumped about it.” He glanced in the direction Tia had gone. “That Tia is a dynamo. I’m glad she’s on our team. If anybody can keep us on track, she can.”

  Veronica nodded. She still had her reservations about Tia, but like Dexter, she’d rather have her on the team than not. Team, Veronica thought. Now she was going to be surrounded by a team, when before she’d been surrounded by family. She still missed her mom and her sisters dearly. Roxanne and Alisha would get such a kick out of the schedule Tia had planned for her. But she couldn’t share that schedule with them yet, or anything else about her new life. It was too soon, and her good news would only make them sad because they couldn’t share in it. Soon, she told herself, she’d make good on her promise to help them and they’d all be back together again as one big happy and successful family of musicians.

  Chapter 19

  Wrapped in a plush white terry-cloth robe and sipping on a large cold glass of iced lemonade, Veronica looked out of the wall of windows in Michael’s Spa and Nail Salon onto the street two stories below while Yanni and Michael debated whether to cut her hair. She had her own opinion, but no one was asking for it, so she contented herself with soaking in the ambience of Atlantic Station. It was around noon, and The District was alive with workers on lunch break, lunchtime walkers and runners, and midday shoppers. Though she had yet to explore all of its nooks and crannies, she was already in love with her new neighborhood.

  She and Dexter had ventured out the night before to have dinner at Copeland’s Cheesecake Bistro, a short four-block walk from their town house. The crawfish eggrolls and barbecue shrimp linguine had been perfection. They’d capped the meal off with a huge slice of chocolate cheesecake. They figured they’d better get the good eating out of the way. Something told her their chef wouldn’t be preparing any such dishes.

  “She needs a weave,” Yanni said again. “About twenty to twenty-four inches, something that will hang about midway down her back. And we need to lighten the color a bit. A lighter shade of brown, but not blond, would definitely bring out her big brown eyes.”

  “Great eyes,” Michael said. “But I’m not sure about the weave. Given the curly texture of her hair, wigs might be a better way to go. We could cut off a couple of inches and supply her with an array of wigs and hairpieces for ease in changing styles. We have to think efficiency here.”

  Veronica kept sipping on her lemonade. This morning Tia had told her to keep her mouth shut unless somebody asked her a question, and she was doing as she was told. While she’d never thought much of weaves, she was even less disposed to wearing wigs. She had too many childhood memories of shouting churchwomen and flying wigs to ever be comfortable wearing one.

  As Yanni and Michael continued their evaluation, she wondered what Dexter’s stylists were telling him. She hadn’t seen her husband since they’d arrived at the spa early this morning and been shipped off to their respective stylists. Men have it so much easier than women, she thought. She’d bet that his stylists hadn’t suggested either a weave or a wig for him. Maybe they wanted him to shave his head or grow a mustache. She smiled as she imagined him reacting to the idea of a mustache, wondering if he’d be able to withhold comment on such a suggestion.

  Yanni jotted something down on a clipboard. “We’re not going to agree, so let’s table the hair discussion for our report to Mr. Washington and his team at the end of the week.”

  “Fine,” Michael said. He glanced at his watch, big and gold. Veronica didn’t know much about jewelry—that was Dexter’s department—but she knew expensive when she saw it. Apparently, the spa business was a lucrative one. “Look, I’ve got to run,” Michael said. “Can you take care of her for the rest of the day?”

  Yanni nodded. “I’ll get it done.”

  He leaned over and brushed a kiss against Yanni’s cheek. “You’re the best.”

  “Yeah,” Yanni murmured as Michael hurried out of the room. “I’m the best.”

  Veronica watched as the younger woman looked after the older man going out the door. So, were Yanni and Michael a couple, or did Yanni only wish they were? Veronica’s inquiring mind wanted to know. Maybe Tia had the scoop. As quickly as that idea crossed her mind, she rejected it. She knew she and Tia would never be close enough to share gossip.

  “Do you need anything?” Yanni asked her.

  Veronica lifted her almost empty lemonade glass. “A refill?”

  Yanni chuckled. “You have a long day ahead of you. You’d better slow down on that stuff, or you’re going to find yourself having to run to the bathroom at the most inopportune time.”

  “It’s delicious,” Veronica said. “And I have a strong bladder.”

  “You win,” Yanni said, taking her glass. “Monica takes over next. She’ll do your body treatment and massage. She’ll also make sure you get lunch and some more lemonade.” Yanni extended her hand. “I’ll see you later in the week. It was nice meeting you. Good luck with your new career.”

  Veronica shook her offered hand. “You too. And thanks.” After Yanni was gone, Veronica sank into the folds of her luscious robe. Her new career was off to a great start. Being comfortable with being talked about like she wasn’t there would take some time, but being pampered was definitely something that could grow on her. She knew her sisters would love this as much as she did. How she wished they could share this experience with her!

  Like a kid, she twirled around in the leather styling chair. She was about to do it again when a very tall—almost six-foot—woman entered the room. “I’m Monica,” the woman said, handing her a fresh glass of lemonade. “Are you ready for your body treatment?”

  Veronica nodded. “I can’t believe they call this work.”

  Monica laughed, and her face lit up. “It’s only work for me,” she said. “It’s heaven for you.”

  “I like heaven,” Veronica said.

  “And I like you,” Monica said. She leaned close to Veronica and whispered, “I rooted for Delilah’s Daughters on Sing for America. You and your sisters should have won.”

  “Thanks for saying that. We thought we should have won too.” If we had won, she thought, my sisters and I would be sharing this experience together.

>   Monica leaned back against the stylist station. “Well, you didn’t make out too badly. Legends is a great studio. We deal with a lot of their artists. They’re all treated very well.”

  Veronica shook off the wave of disappointment that threatened to settle around her. Her sisters weren’t here with her now, but soon they would be. She just had to work hard and become the success she knew she could become. “If today is any indication,” she said, giving Monica her best smile, “I’m going to be spoiled before this is over.”

  Monica folded her arms across her stomach. “Just don’t turn all diva on me,” she said. “I’ve seen that happen before. The first time I meet the artist they’re down to earth and as friendly as can be. Then I see them several months later and they don’t remember me. Neither do they remember common courtesy. It’s a shame, really.”

  “You won’t have to worry about that with me,” Veronica said. “My mother raised me well.”

  Monica studied her. “That’s the sense I got about Delilah’s Daughters. I felt like I knew each of you. I hope all of this doesn’t change you. Are your sisters here with you?”

  Veronica shook her head. She really didn’t want to have this conversation. “Not this time.”

  As if sensing her discomfort, Monica changed the subject. “This body treatment is going to include a body review and analysis,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides. “Michael or Yanni or maybe both of them will come in and do an evaluation of your form and figure. It’ll be totally professional and detached, but you’ll have to be naked or close to it. What do you have on under that robe?”

  “Nothing.”

  Monica nodded. “Good. We can supply you with a skimpy bathing suit if that makes you more comfortable, but being naked is best.”

  Veronica wasn’t sure how to respond. She wasn’t a prude, but neither was she an exhibitionist. How did she feel about Yanni and, especially, Michael poking and prodding her naked body?

  “You can decide later,” Monica said. “We have a lot of work to do before we call them in. I know you’re probably hungry, so I’ll get you a menu and we’ll order lunch in. You can eat while your first treatment is setting. Are you ready?”

  Veronica gulped down the rest of her lemonade, hoping she’d find some courage at the bottom of the glass. When she put the empty glass down, she said, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Chapter 20

  As Delilah entered the converted storage building that housed the offices and studios of Magic City Records, she checked the bracelet watch that Tommy had given her for her fiftieth birthday last year. She was running a little late, but not enough for Tommy to complain.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Monroe,” Tommy’s young secretary called as soon as Delilah pulled open the double doors that led to Tommy’s office suite.

  “Hello, Marie,” Delilah said, having given up long ago on getting the younger woman to call her by her first name. “Is Tommy here? He’s taking me to lunch.”

  Marie shook her head. “He was, but he was called out to Studio 7. He should be back any minute. You can wait in his office.”

  “Thanks,” Delilah said, walking past the young woman’s desk and through the open door leading to Tommy’s office. The feeling of pride that she felt each time she walked into his domain surrounded her again as she entered the seat of Tommy’s empire. The decor reflected his comfortable masculinity and was a tribute to his success. Magic City might be a small studio, but Tommy’s talents were anything but small. The dark-paneled wall of his office was covered with plaques representing his success—most from his days as a musician and producer—although there were a growing number acknowledging the success of the baby he had founded with his own money and sweat equity, Magic City. The most prized item in Tommy’s collection was a gold-framed mounting of a copy of the first royalty check that Magic City had issued. That check represented the goodness and heart of Tommy. He hadn’t mounted the first check he’d been paid, but rather the first check he’d paid out. He counted his success in being able to help artists reach their dreams. He had a gift for spotting and developing talent that others overlooked.

  The girls were right when they said Magic City wasn’t in the same league as Legends. But for Delilah and for Tommy, it didn’t need to be. Tommy could have become a major player in the recording business had that been his goal, but he’d turned down so many offers for his studio that suitors had stopped calling. Everybody in the business knew he wasn’t going to sell. Some called him shortsighted and small-minded, but she knew better. Unlike many in the business who found their identity in how much they acquired, Tommy’s confidence came from doing what he loved and what he felt he’d been called to do.

  Not that he hadn’t done well for himself. In fact, Tommy had made a bundle over the last decade or so selling the contracts of his artists to major studios like Legends. He was in no way hurting for money.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  Delilah turned at the sound of Tommy’s voice. “No problem,” she said, walking over to meet him. When she reached him, she pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Everything okay in Studio 7?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, that producer I brought in to work with the new guys wanted me to hear their latest track. They accomplished a lot during the week I was away.”

  “So you liked what you heard?”

  He shook his head, but he was grinning. “I loved it. There’s nothing like putting the right pieces together. You get the right artist and producer together and magic happens.”

  “Magic at Magic City.”

  His grin broadened. “It’s more than a name,” he said. “It’s reality. We really do work magic here.”

  She leaned into him. “And you’re the magician?”

  Pulling her closer, he said, “I’m only a player doing my role, like all the other players. Together we make the magic.”

  Delilah pulled back to look at him. Though he and Rocky were totally different men, they shared a common belief that teams could accomplish more than individuals. She’d thought that she and Rocky passed that perspective on to their girls, but apparently they hadn’t.

  He tapped her on her nose. “Your nose is crinkling. What dismaying thought just passed through your mind?”

  She shook off the dour thoughts. “Let’s talk about it later. Where are we going for lunch?”

  “The guys in Studio 7 want me to hang around for a while,” Tommy said, taking her hand and leading her to the leather couch in the corner of the room. “So I called Roscoe and asked him to bring up a couple of specials. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “You know I don’t,” she said. “Roscoe has the best pasta and chicken in the Southeast.”

  Tommy settled back on the couch and pulled her close. “Now tell me what’s on your mind? I’m guessing it’s the girls.”

  “How’d you get so smart?”

  He patted her shoulder. “Like fine wine,” he said. “I get better with age.”

  She gave him a light punch in the side. “You’re going to need a bigger office to hold you and your ego.”

  “Tell me,” he said, his voice serious. “I know something’s on your mind. Our short phone conversations over the last week haven’t cut it. You don’t have to hide your concerns from me.”

  “You’re too good for me,” she said.

  “Delilah—” he coaxed.

  “Well, the good news is that I told the girls about us.” Tommy’s eyes brightened, and Delilah felt the load around her heart lighten in response. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Better late than never. I hope that’s not what had your nose crinkling.”

  She shook her head. “Of course not.” She sighed. “I love my girls, but sometimes I wonder if they learned any of the lessons Rocky and I tried to teach them.”

  “Are you talking about Veronica?”

  “All three of them. Now that Veronica’s charting her own path, Alisha thinks she needs to do the same.
And Roxanne has her job at Dreamland. Delilah’s Daughters is not a priority for any of them. Maybe it shouldn’t be a priority for me.”

  He squeezed her shoulders. “Don’t give up yet. There’s still a chance for the group to grow.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Things changed when Rocky died. He was the heart and soul of Delilah’s Daughters. Now it feels empty. I think that’s why it was so easy for Veronica to leave. And now Alisha wants to chart her songwriting career. She’s turned in her resignation from her job, and she’s getting ready to attend the ASCAP conference. She thinks she needs to immerse herself in her new career. It just looks to me like she’s giving up on the group.”

  “I think you’re getting carried away,” Tommy said. “Veronica’s decision wasn’t an easy one, and it’s only natural for Alisha to explore her interests. This contest was a blessing for the girls, Delilah. You said things changed with the group when Rocky died. Well, I believe this contest breathed new life into the group and into each of the girls’ hearts. You’ve got to trust that God knows what He’s doing and that He’s watching over them, whether they make good decisions or bad ones. Trust Him to take care of them.”

  She looked up at him and pressed a hand against his cheek. “And that’s why I need you,” Delilah said. “You keep me grounded. What would I do without you?”

  “I don’t ever want you to find out. We’re going to have a long and happy life together, Delilah. And Delilah’s Daughters is going to be a big part of our life together. I don’t know how it’s all going to work out, but I know that it will.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears,” Delilah murmured.

  Tommy picked up one of Delilah’s hands and pressed it to his lips. “I think something else is on your mind. And I think I know what it is.”

  Sometimes it irked her that Tommy knew her so well. This was one of those times. Can’t the man leave well enough alone?

  “You’re going to have to tell her,” Tommy said, when she didn’t respond. “She needs to know. She deserves to know.”