by JN Welsh
“DJ Luke will be on tour this summer, so make sure you get your tickets,” Tommy called to the girls.
“Oh my God I can’t wait for your tour. Thank you, thank you.” The girl squealed, clutching the autograph to her chest.
“Anytime,” Luke said.
“Here, sign my arm.” The other girl’s high pitch pierced his eardrum.
He was about to ask Patrick or Tommy for a sheet of paper, but the car started to roll, so Luke signed his name on her arm.
The girls, giddy with happiness, continued to thank him.
“I’ll see you at the concert. Be safe.” He waved to them as the car continued to its destination.
“Like I was saying.” Tommy returned to his previous point. “You’re going to have to deal with Leo. You can make it easy or painful. You can’t have it both ways. I suggest you try to talk to her and smooth things over when we’re back here next week.”
“She’s smart. Quick.” Luke had expected Leona to complain about the conditions, but she’d surprised him, and everyone else, when she flipped the last one on him.
“Yeah, and you better be prepared for when she figures out what you both just agreed to,” Tommy warned.
“I second that.” Patrick chuckled.
“You, too, Patty?”
“Yup.”
“Noted.” Luke stroked the hair above his chin, twisting it between his thumb and index finger. He should proceed with caution when it came to Leona, but when he was in the same room with her, his emotions were erratic. Perhaps, he should try to talk to her. His empty stomach growled as if to complain about the thought.
“Let me buy you guys some dinner.”
* * *
Stuffed from a three-course lunch at an Italian place and carrying an armful of vinyl from a vintage record place, Luke arrived at the hotel and took the elevator to his suite. He enjoyed New York, but longed for the coast where he could surf. Once on tour, he’d be going nonstop. He’d need to talk to Tommy and Leona about scheduling some time off between tour dates.
When he entered the room, Luke noticed it smelled like him—musky with hints of spice. His sister had gifted him the fragrance a few years ago. The room sensed his movements and overhead recessed ceiling lights illuminated from dim to bright. The cleanliness of the blue walls and the white and brown furniture reminded him of the modern yet homey style of his house in San Francisco.
The lavish penthouse suite came with many hi-tech capabilities, one of which was some funky but impressive remote-controlled experience with the shower and Jacuzzi. After Ivy, he had tried to sex away her memory and would have made full use of this special feature with a willing participant. Things were different now. He was better.
He had to work but hadn’t connected with his sister since he’d gotten to New York. Once he was overseas, the time zone differences would make it harder to get in touch with her. He climbed into bed with his computer and his phone, crossed his legs at the ankles, and dialed Santa Monica.
His sister’s landline rang twice and he hoped he’d get a chance to sing a message. “Hello,” a girl child’s voice came through the phone.
Luke skinned his teeth at the sound of his niece. “Hi, Em. How are you, chipmunk?”
“Uncle Luke,” Emily sang his name. “Where are you?”
“I’m in New York.”
“I mishu.”
Emily’s statement tugged at his heartstrings. “I miss you, too.”
“Are you coming over?” Emily asked. A commotion on the line commenced. “Stop, Ryan,” she commanded to her younger brother.
“I want to speak to him, too,” his nephew whined in the background.
As he listened to Emily and Ryan argue, Luke couldn’t help but laugh.
“Em? Let Ryan say hello.” His suggestion fell upon deaf ears when the phone banged against something hard and echoed through the receiver. He knew the two were fighting.
“Hi, Uncle Luke,” Ryan shouted.
Luke had to hold the phone away from his ear in order to understand Ryan’s greeting. “Hey, buddy. You guys behaving?”
“Yes.” Ryan copied his sister. “Are you coming over?”
“Not today, but I hope to be there soon.”
More rustling and muffled yelling commenced before his sister’s voice registered.
“Hello?” Jane’s breathless question sounded as loud as Ryan’s greeting.
“It’s me.”
“Luke? Sorry about that. I was cooking. I figured I’d let the machine pick up, but my kids had other plans.”
“When are you going to get rid of that thing? You have a cell.”
“Uhh...never. I need it out here when cell service is wonky. Plus the kids love to hear the messages, especially your messages,” Jane said. “How are you?”
“Good.” He stretched.
“You sound tired,” Jane remarked.
“Thanks.” His sister’s honesty wasn’t a new experience. “I just wanted to check on you guys.”
“We’re okay. How’s New York? I saw online that Aurora was a hit. There’s a picture of you and this woman. Leona Sable. I thought you were done with that awful behavior, Luke.” Jane scoffed.
“She’s my new tour manager.” Luke explained the story to his sister, including the moment Leona hid behind him to avoid being photographed.
“Oh.” Her tone was less accusatory. “I thought you didn’t want to hire a woman since—” she paused “—well, because of what happened. I thought you’d give yourself some time.”
“I was initially against it, but she’s the best in the business. Tommy trusts her.”
“Do you?”
“She has the skills to do the job.” Luke trusted Tommy, and Leona’s client success couldn’t be denied. In the short time that he’d known Leona, she’d already done a better job than Ivy.
He’d met Ivy at an after-party with a bunch of industry folks, and their one-night stand had turned into a yearlong relationship. He’d been eager to help her when she wanted to get out of her family’s shadow and build something of her own. He was stupid to offer himself and his career. Ivy had proven to be an opportunist and when a better opportunity came her way, she’d left him and his heart behind.
“Luke? You didn’t answer the question,” Jane persisted, jolting him back from the past.
“Let’s just say I’ve taken some precautions to ensure she delivers.” He didn’t know Leona well enough to trust her. Her history with Paul didn’t help situations either.
“What things?”
His sister was no less a brat than when they were kids. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Hmm. She’s gorgeous,” Jane offered.
“For someone who reamed me out for my past behavior, you’re quick to point out that my new tour manager is gorgeous.”
“Well, she is. Are things going well with her so far?”
He was silent.
“Luke?”
“Everything’s fine, Jane.” The truth was things weren’t fine. He was touring in a month. Even though he’d signed with the best manager referred to him, things were in disarray.
“See, whenever you say that, I know something’s up. Spill the beans, mister.”
Luke paused and contemplated how much of the truth he should deliver to his sister. “She’s Paul Reese’s ex.”
“No way!”
“Yes.”
“Someone dated that con artist? Why am I surprised when—?”
“Yup.”
“There is so much I want to ask you, but I have to finish dinner before my kids starve and Aaron gets home. Just—” she paused “—don’t make her pay for it. Okay?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Defensiveness drove each thud his heart made against his chest.
“I’m sure those
precautions you put in place for her to do her job have everything to do with both Ivy and Paul, am I right?”
“What if they did?”
“Just because Paul was an awful producer who wasted your time and money, and stole your manager, doesn’t mean Leona has any of the same poor qualities or intentions.”
“You’re forgetting the worst part, Jane.”
Jane sighed into the phone. “I feel for you, Luke, but you have to move on and judge this Leona woman on her own merits. She probably got screwed, too.”
Luke considered his sister’s words. He had been hard on Leona, but he assured himself it was for the best. If he could keep a little anger for her, perhaps he could control the ever-growing urge to touch her. “I’ll try to video chat with you guys later this week.”
“Sounds good.”
“Hey? How’re Mom and Dad?” Luke asked.
“They’re doing well. I know you’re busy but you should check in more often. Make sure they see you when you do this tour.”
The guilt hit him hard. “I’ll try.”
“Just not today? They love you and are proud of you. What else do you need?”
“Jane.” His firm tone urged her to cease her line of questioning. What he needed was to succeed. But even he wasn’t sure how much success would be enough.
His sister sighed. “I’ll tell the kids goodbye for you. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Luke hung up.
He opened his computer and logged onto a few sites. The activity was what he needed to take his mind off his conversation with Jane.
He started creating his set list for the Brazil performance and put a message out to the fans on social media to request their favorite tracks. Luke’s first hit song, “Get Up and Move for Me,” was always the number one request. He had remixed the original song so many times over the years to give it a fresh sound.
“Bringing it back ol’ skool style, guys.” He knew the fans would go nuts once he played the original. They loved it as much as he did. As the melody of the song played, nostalgia filled him. How long has it been? Ten...maybe twelve years? The lyrics were affirmations from a motivational speaker. They infused him with good feelings and kept him moving forward. All because two girls had danced for him.
After college, he had spent time in Europe as a roadie for the Lexionic Twins, two brothers from Belgium who played electro house and techno. In the early hours of the morning after the twins had closed out a rave in Paris, they let him deejay.
Two girls had fallen asleep on one of the couches while the club staff at L’Essence cleaned up. He’d seen them dancing all night, barely stopping for a drink. Though the club had cleared out, his goal had been to get everyone up and moving to the music. As soon as he played his first selection, the girls came out of their slumber. Soon they were up and dancing as if they had never stopped. One of them blew him kisses. By the time he finished his set, everyone, including the club staff, was dancing.
Whenever he had been ready to give up on his musical aspirations, he remembered that night and it got him through the tough times. The experience inspired the song “Get Up and Move for Me.”
Riding on the wave of good vibes from the memory, Luke read through his social media feeds and noted the fan requests. He created a playlist and worked on it for a bit before saving the draft.
His packed schedule and recent meeting with Leona had drained him. In the morning he’d be on a plane to Brazil. Next week, he would be back in New York for his residency and to meet with Leona’s team.
She had almost outfoxed him earlier. “Leona Sable.” He rested his head against the headboard and smiled.
* * *
“A month?” Leona’s team questioned. Individual grumblings of time constraints, impossible task completion, and legal tie-ups followed.
Leona had to inspire them. “The good news is there’s some foundation. Let’s make sure what’s required is in place, fill in the gaps to cover ourselves, and keep it moving.”
She received several nods, which was a positive sign. “We have a decent budget, so if there’s a serious problem we can throw funds at, then let’s do it. We want happy and safe fans. At every event, I want disciples of The Musical Prophet and brand ambassadors singing our praises.”
Sebastian Louis rubbed his palms together in motivation. “Hallelujah.”
Sebastian, her superstar marketer, loved a challenge and was a favorite at Wallace Entertainment for publicizing even the most minor celebrity like an icon. He’d also handle vendor management for the tour.
“Do we have authorization to make final decisions on our respective areas, Leo? Given the tight deadline, it will totally tie us up if everything needs to be approved by you,” Sara Reynolds inquired.
In the past, Sara and Leona had their disagreements over project decisions, but their creative chemistry was off the charts. When it came to venue logistics, whatever Leona envisioned, Sara could materialize. She was a tenacious scheduler and could organize travel and accommodations blindfolded.
“I trust you guys. You’ve proven yourselves to me in the past. That’s why you’re on this team. This is a collaborative effort. All I need is consistent status updates. You know how I like it. We have a meet and greet with DJ Luke this afternoon. I have every confidence that together we are going to blow our client’s mind and pull off a great tour.”
“Great.” Tracy made notes in her smartphone. With all the due diligence requirements, Leona needed someone with a thorough understanding of every liability possible, as well as ways to navigate around them. There was no one better than Tracy. She wouldn’t be on tour but she would be Leona’s legal eyes and ears.
The excitement grew among her team members.
Sebastian nudged Leona. “We’re really glad you’re back. It’s been too long.”
Sara pushed back her blond locks. “Yeah, Sebz and I really missed you.”
“Aww, you guys. You’re my rock stars.” Leona hugged Sebastian.
“So, is Luke as cool as the Internet portrays him?” Sebastian inquired.
Before she could stop herself, Leona frowned. Her shoulders tightened and rose up to her ears. She and Tracy exchanged glances.
“Oh boy.” Sara clasped her forehead.
“It’s nothing.” Leona attempted to sequester her opinions about Luke.
Sebastian rubbed his hands over his face and through his brown hair. “We know that face all too well.”
“Meet him and form your own opinions. This is going to be great.” Deep down inside Leo wasn’t so sure.
* * *
That evening, when Leona went home, she let her hair down and relaxed with a glass of Shiraz. Her team had met Luke, and Leona had been impressed by and grateful for how friendly, charming, and motivational he was with them.
“He’s awesome,” Sara had said to her.
“Yeah, Leo. You’re right. This is going to be a great tour,” had been Sebastian’s remarks.
Tracy, however, had been more circumspect. “Don’t forget the conditions and stay on your toes.”
Leona had given Tracy a curt nod. “Got it.”
Now in her apartment, Leona tried to decompress. When she met with Luke, she always wanted to be buttoned up. To keep from playing with her hair, she tucked it away, a trick she’d learned early in her career.
Leona decided it was time to break the news about the tour to Peaches. Even worse, the orange fish, with black spotted tail, would be in the care of Aunt Izzy, who had a tendency to forget feeding times.
Leona almost pressed her face against the fish tank. “I’ll do my best to make sure she doesn’t kill you, girl.”
She opened her satellite radio app and searched for Luke’s station, surprised by how much she looked forward to hearing his music again. He wasn’t just a DJ with multiple albums, who had written and
produced music. He was an artist and talented poet with profound and deep lyrics. He even sang on a few tracks with other artists and musicians.
Leona readied herself for a hot shower. Her hair was still nicely blown out, but in order for it to stay that way she had to make sure to protect it from moisture. She tucked her locks into a shower cap when her doorbell rang. She threw on her robe and tied it sloppily.
Leona went to the intercom. “Who is it?”
“It’s...me,” a garbled male voice barked through the speaker.
“Abe? Is that you?” More deep garbled sounds came through the speaker. She couldn’t make out the voice but it sounded like Abe. Who else would it be? The media hadn’t stalked her in about nine months, so she assumed she was safe, and her brother was out of town. “Okay, I’ll buzz you up.” She pressed the button and made a note to talk with her landlord about the dangers of the jacked up intercom.
Abe had a knack for interrupting her whenever she was about to get into an activity. Leona hadn’t had any time with him after the meeting so maybe he wanted to discuss some things.
Moments later came a knock on her door. When she opened it, she froze.
“You’re not Abe.”
Chapter Seven
“No, I’m not.”
Mortified, with shower cap, no makeup, and robe on, Leona was still getting over the shock of Luke in her doorframe. The green and brown button-down plaid shirt he wore was rolled up to the elbow and not only formed to his fit physique but highlighted the green in his eyes. He could have been wearing a paper bag and he would still ooze of sex appeal.
“Are you going to let me in or just stand there?”
“Umm, sure.” She let him in. Behind him, her hand went to the shower cap in the hopes she’d taken it off, but as the plastic crinkled under her fingers, her hopes were dashed. She snatched the shower cap off and her hair tumbled out, landing just above her elbows.
Luke faced her to speak but hesitated. Instead, he reared back and fixated on her hair.
“What?” Leona’s mouth went dry and she wondered if she had grown some new appendage since she left the bathroom.
