Chapter 3

“I just had a very interesting chat with a sweet-sounding young lady. Makes me want to fall in love again.” Lenny chuckled as he stepped out of the way to let him in.

“You’re just a horny wannabe.” Shrugging out of his outer coat, Richard hung it on the coat tree in the foyer and tried not to frown in concern as he looked at his friend. He had decided to drop by on his way home. Truth be told, he had been reluctant to face his empty townhouse just yet.

“I was in the den putting words together. The album is coming along.” The man shuffled toward the room, turning on lights to get rid of the shadows. Like him, Lenny was a confirmed bachelor, and even though he was wealthy enough to afford better lodgings, he was content to stay in the loft he had resided in for more than a decade.

Pushing the door open, stepped into a very modern and cozy office with a large desk and cabinets with shelves showcasing the several awards he had won over the years.

“Drink?”

“I had better not.” Richard thought of the ones he had imbibed earlier. He had chased it down with scalding black coffee and decided against staying at the office.

“How does she look?” The other man shuffled behind his desk and sat.

“Who?”

Lenny shot him a retired look. “Come on, man, give. She called me up and was very sympathetic about my plight. Her voice was soft and sultry, and she managed to put me at my ease and made me want to do a hell of a lot of talking. Must be a gift. So, how is she in the looks department?”

Richard shifted on the padded chair and felt the desire coming back.

“Attractive. Caramel complexion, dark brown eyes, sexy lips, compact body—things like that.”

Lenny’s eyes crinkled in knowing amusement. “Damn. When are you planning on getting her into your bed?”

“It’s complicated," he muttered, wishing he could have that drink.

“Because technically, she will be working for you, and you have this policy of not crapping where you eat.”

“Precisely. How are you?”

“Fair to middling.” Lenny shifted some things on his desk. “You spend your entire life doing all sorts of things, whoring, drinking, partying, allowing the fame to get to your head, and never once thinking about your immortal soul.”

He shook his head. “When you stepped into that bar so many years ago, I never dreamed I would be catapulted to fame and even so, I never thought it would be of this magnitude. I have regrets–”His eyes swept the room, lighting on the awards stacked carefully on the shelves.

“There was this woman once when I was just starting to be recognized. Sweet Southern girl who was willing to put up with my shit—you know how I was—fractious, moody, and going off tangent whenever I am trying to create. A pain in the ass who couldn’t be around people.”

“Vaguely.”

Lenny laughed at the telling look on his friend’s face. “Jolene was patient, and she looked past all that crap and saw the real me. Only I was too full of it to realize what I had. And she left. That woman gave me countless chances to see her and get it right and I refused. I thought I was too big for my britches.

I was in magazines, doing all these tours, women were coming at me from all over, and I took what they offered.” He leaned back in the chair and blew out a breath. “Now I am washed up and suffering from a debilitating illness. Forty-five and with one foot in the grave.”

“You are waxing maudlin,” Richard’s tone was unnaturally sharp. “I am not here to join any pity party.”

Lenny gave him a crooked grin, seeing right through the seemingly cruel comment. “Too bad. You invited yourself to my place, so you have to take whatever I dish out.” He shrugged his thin shoulders. “I am just saying to my friend, that it’s not too late for you.”

“What the hell does that mean?” he growled.

“You are in your prime and it still can happen for you. Find love with a wonderful woman and have a kid or two. Find someone you can spend quality time with before it’s too late.”

“Now you are making me regret stopping by.” For some reason, his friend’s words were having an impact on him, and he couldn’t understand why. Lunging to his feet, Richard wandered over to the cabinet to stare at the awards.

He had several himself and a special place in his home studio where they were showcased. He was proud of his accomplishments.

He had set out to make a difference and even though he had never received a “well done” from his dad, he knew he had done something worthwhile. “You have much to be proud of," he murmured. Picking up an award, he studied the golden statue, admiring its intricate carving. “I remember this one.”

“For my third album—Lovin’ or Leavin’.” Lenny swiveled his chair around to see better. “I put sweat and tears into that, and you wouldn’t settle for anything less than perfection.

During that time, I hated you with a passion and wished you straight to hell.”

Richard smiled in memory. “You accused me of being a masochistic asshole who expected too much from people.”

“And you told me that if I want to make it in the country and western genre, I will have to be better than just good enough. You forced me to reach deep down into my soul and come up with more than just ordinary.”

Putting back the statute, Richard came back and sat down. “And you did just that.”

“You have done so much for me.” The emotions were thick in the other man’s voice, making him feel slightly uncomfortable.

“If you’re planning on kissing me, illness or not, I am going to have to deck you," he warned.

That remark managed to dispel the heavy air of nostalgia and caused Lenny to laugh.

“I would much prefer to kiss that young woman who will be coming to see me tomorrow.”

“She already made an appointment?”

Lenny nodded. “Hence the materials I have taken out.” He gestured to the files on his desk. “Talking about my illness is a good idea.” He looked at his friend. “You were right as usual.”

“Aren’t I always?”

*****

Collette was determined not to allow anything to interfere with the high she was on.

She had called Babs with the news while she was on her way home, and the woman had been on a high, trying to persuade her to let them have a celebratory drink at one of the nightclubs.

“Let’s get smashed, honey, and you can tell me all about it. And about the man himself.” Collette had cried off, claiming exhaustion. “Rain check. And besides, I have to prepare for the meeting with Lenny Bolt.”

“I cannot believe you will be sitting down with that legend. I know it’s unprofessional, but I would not mind getting an autograph. That man’s song has seen me through several nasty breakups.”

“I will see what I can do,” Collette promised her.

Now she was home and too excited to even prepare a meal. She was in the middle of pouring a glass of wine when her phone rang. Thinking it was Babs again, she pressed the button without looking at the screen and laughingly said, “I have already said no to clubbing, and I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Collette, it’s me.”

The familiar voice from her past had her knees going weak.

Putting the glass on the counter, she took a shaky breath. She had refused to answer his calls before now and when she did, had refused his invitation to meet him.

“What do you want?”

“To talk. Look, please hear me out. Janice told me she has been to see you to explain everything. I just want you to know that I am sorry. I made a mistake, and I am facing the consequences.”

Her hands tightened on the counter, and her body started to tremble. She had told herself that after years of therapy, she was past the hurt and humiliation, but hearing his voice brought it all back.

“I don’t want to hear this.”

“Just listen.” His voice was deep and hypnotic and had fooled her for years, telling her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. “I cannot wait for us to have kids,” when he said it, he had lulled her into thinking he meant it. Trevor had been very clever that way. “I was seduced–”

“Stop!” she cried, covering her ear as if she could drone out his voice. “We have been over this and I–”

“I love you!” he interjected hastily. “I still recall the times you talked me out of quitting, times when you were my most avid cheerleader. I am divorcing Janice. Our marriage has been on the rocks for years, and we are just going through the motions. She is not like you–”

“I am warning you," she said tersely. Finding the strength, she firmed her lips and blinked at the tears. “Please don’t call me again.” She hung up and turned off her phone. Clasping her hands together, she took several deep, fortifying breaths.

She should be over this, but over two weeks, she had been in contact with the two people who had caused her too much misery to even vocalize.

Her therapist had suggested she put it in writing.

“Start a journal, Collette,” he had urged. “I find that writing things down lessens their importance.”

“Or magnifies them.”

“That too," he had agreed. “But write down what they did to you and how you felt. It would help if you got into a room with them and shouted, vent, get it out in the open.”

“No," she had quaked at that. “I couldn’t bear the idea of that happening.”

“Which means you are not healed. That time has not lessened the hurt and pain.” He had been sympathetic and earnest in his effort to help her. “When you start thinking of those two without feeling debilitated, then that’s when the healing will have started.”

She had pushed it at the back of her mind. In the first year, she had cowered in shame, not wanting to go on living. She had entertained the idea of ending her life, but that had been brief. She had been brought up in church, and suicide, no matter how bad the situation, was not an option.

She had also been brought up to believe that being black meant that she was not supposed to sit on the couch of a complete stranger and pour her heart out. “God will take care of everything.

He is capable of doing so,” her mother had drummed it into their heads. But after constant praying and attending services with the minister assuring her that “things would get better,” she had finally succumbed to Babs’ urging to get some help.

“I appreciate the fact that you want to seek help from above, but there comes a time when you have to exercise common sense. And talking about the problem is what’s going to help.”

And it had, to a point. It had made living bearable. It had taken months for her to get over it, to go out in public without feeling humiliated, but she had taken the baby steps. She had also used work as a panacea.

Babs, bless her heart, had been there for her and had given her some very tough assignments. It had helped her to climb out of her shell and bury herself in doing her job. Over the years, it had gotten better until she was almost whole.

But she was not quite there yet, and hearing his voice, seeing her sister a week ago, had ripped the bandage off. Sucking in a breath, she picked up her wineglass and gulped the liquid down.

*****

Richard let himself into his empty and silent townhouse. It was located in a fairly isolated part of the neighborhood. He relished his privacy and was always aware that a man of his status and wealth, he was subjected to people trying to come at him.

He didn’t believe he had enemies, but he was not stupid enough to believe that having come so far in life, he was without an enemy or two. He had received more than his fair share of fan letters that had ranged from a mild declaration of love to proposals of marriage. Some had been threatening but not followed on.

Dropping his key fob into the ceramic bowl on the entrance table, he headed straight to the almost empty living room, where a massive fireplace took up most of one wall. It was the middle of fall and very soon, there would be a fire burning in the hearth.

Going straight for the recessed bar, he touched the knob, and the lacquer cabinet slid out. Plucking the bottle of scotch, he poured a generous amount into the squat glass and took it with him over to one of the butter-colored sofas facing the hearth.

The talk with Lenny had disturbed him more than he cared to admit. He had been troubled by his friend’s appearance and the reflections on his life and the mistakes he made.

On top of his uncanny lust for a woman he had just met, it was causing him a hell of a lot of discomfort. Twirling the glass between his palms, he stared at the liquid broodingly. He had told Lenny that he would not be pursuing an interest in that direction. It would not be prudent, because of who they were.

And the carousel of baggage she carried with her. He was too busy and not interested enough—he stopped there and laughed harshly. Not interested enough. Hell, he was more than interested. It had been hard for him to let her leave his office and that was after one meeting.

If he was being honest with himself, he had been intrigued from the moment he laid eyes on her at the restaurant. There was something about her that had touched the core of him. Seeing her up close had magnified that.

He had felt the absurd impulse to reach out and take her in his arms and kiss away the haunted look on her lovely face. And that was why he had hustled her out, saying that he had an engagement.

Tossing back the drink, he resolved to stay away from her. He would contact her via phone or email and limit their meetings. With that in mind, he finished the drink and made his way upstairs.

*****

“You look like crap,” Babs said bluntly as soon as she sailed into Collette’s office the next morning. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I can always depend on you to be honest,” Collette muttered as she took another sip of the strong black coffee. She had spent most of last night tossing and turning on her bed, which had felt as if she was sleeping on a pile of rocks, and woke up this morning with a vicious headache.

“You should be as happy as clams after managing to bag that account. I have been doing happy dances most of the night and this morning.” Babs plopped down in front of her desk. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Nuh uh.” The woman shook her head, a determined look stamped on her plain face. “You are going to have to do better than that, honey. You have that meeting with the legendary Lenny Bolt, and you need to look your best. What’s going on?”

Taking another sip of coffee, she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes.

“Trevor called last night.”

Muttering several obscenities, Babs slammed a fist into the opposite palm. “Change your damn number. Or better yet, don’t answer his calls.”

“I thought it was you calling back and did not check the screen.”

Rubbing her hands up and down her designer black pants, Babs stared at the younger woman. She couldn’t understand why she was still hung up on that creep. “I thought you were over the bastard.”

“I am. I was. It’s just that seeing Janice the week before and getting a call from him, one behind the other, it just–”She heaved out a breath. “It brought it all back.”

“What did he want?”

“He said he made a mistake and said that he still loves me.”

Babs glared at her. “And I hope you told him where to shove that pile of crap. You cannot go back there, honey, I will not let you.”

Collette smiled wanly. “You don’t have to remind me. I almost married the guy, was in love with him for years, and was carrying his baby, so there was a bond there, and something like that is hard to shake.”

“Want to go back to therapy?”

She shook her head. “I am going to be heavily involved with this project; it’s going to take my mind off things. You know work is my therapy.”

“Going to tell me about the other legend?” Babs asked curiously. “What’s Richard McBride like?”

Collette didn’t have to think to come up with a response. “He is intimidating," she laughed a little breathlessly. He was standing behind his desk when I walked in, and he looked like a giant. He has these green eyes that seemed to see into your very soul.” Babs shuddered delicately. “Sounds creepy.”

“Not at all. It just struck me that he is a man who does not suffer fools gladly.”

*****

The moment Lenny set eyes on her, he knew why his friend was interested. Collette Sutherland was not your classical beauty, but there was something about her that caught the eye and latched on. Her smile was genuine, and her voice inspired confidence.

Lenny welcomed her into his home and decided to have the meeting in his studio, something he almost never allowed unless it was someone close to him. But there was something about this woman that made him want to know more about her.

“Oh my!” she breathed as she stepped into his inner sanctum. “You deserve every one of these awards.”

“Don’t tell me you are a country and western fan.” He sat behind his desk and smiled at her indulgently. He really liked her.

“Of course I am.” She turned to look at him, dark brown eyes sparkling and lending her face an ethereal look. Baby, I am coming home and My last dance, give me your heart, are only some of the songs I listened to, especially when–”She paused and walked over to take her seat on one of the plump chairs.

“But I am not here to unburden myself," she added lightly as she took out her iPod. “We are here to talk about you.”

“Which doesn’t mean we cannot integrate your heartbreak as well,” Lenny said gently. “Finish the sentence. Who knows? It might be an inspiration for my next song.”

She rolled her eyes and made him laugh. “I think my life story has been sung many times over.”

He shook his head. “I strongly believe that every story is unique, and I will not budge an inch before hearing yours.”

“Authentic interest or just avid curiosity?”

“The former," he told her gravely.

She nodded and fiddled with her tote. “I was jilted at the altar," she told him abruptly.

He stared at her for a few seconds before dropping his eyes to the notebook on his desk.

“He is not just an asshole, but a blind one as well.”

His bluntness was so unexpected, it startled a laugh out of her and made her feel much better.

“Thank you," she told him sincerely.

“You are welcome.” He grinned at her. “And I meant every word.”

“I am sure you did.”

“If you ever need me to confront him and tell him so, just say the word.” She shook her head, eyes twinkling. “Not necessary. I was feeling down before, but you made my day.” She crossed impressive legs encased in silk stockings, bringing his attention to them.

Damn! he thought wryly. Richard told him last night that he was going to try and stay away from her, but he had strong doubts that was happening. The woman was sexy as hell. If he wasn’t so damn sick, he would enter the running himself.

“Shall we get started?”

“Let me play you something first, and you tell me what you think," he suggested.