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CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Cameron
“Where…” I don’t trust my eyes for a second, but the sweet almond scent surrounding me serves as proof to where I am. Then a memory of me talking to Kenya last night returns. I was supposed to leave when she fell asleep, but it appears that I succumbed first. “Shit!” I leap from the bed with an apology on my lips only to find the other occupant in the room is Kenya’s cat.
She stares curiously at me from the other side of the bed.
“Jackpot,” I say recalling the cat’s name, “where’s Kenya?”
After two seconds of deep study, Jackpot bows her head and slinks away in disappointment.
“I’m disappointed, too.”
A silence fills the house that tells me Kenya isn’t in another room. Maybe she already went to the studio? I stride to her window overlooking my bungalow. Her office is also empty. She’s avoiding me.
As I return to my rental, I rub my sore stomach and try not to dwell on the letdown. Although I didn’t plan on sleeping next to Kenya, I wish I had the opportunity to wake up beside her.
“Rhys, I swear I’m at the right place. Cameron isn’t here. There are no sounds coming from inside and I can’t detect any movement.” Khadijah paces along the walkway in front of my rental, a phone pressed to her ear. At the sound of gravel crunching under my feet, she glances in my direction. “He just arrived. I’ll call you back.”
“It’s been what? A day, Deej? What about I need a year do you not get?”
She reaches out to me beseeching me with her eyes. “I didn’t want to come, I swear. But if I hadn’t, you would have had our manager, Rhys, and Hanson on your doorstep instead of just little old me. Which do you prefer?”
I sigh and shake my head. “When will you stop falling for their games? They know we’re practically brother and sister which lets you get away with a ton of shit they can’t. The door’s open.” I nod for her to enter ahead of me.
“True. They also know you won’t turn me away. By the way, who is she?”
“Who is who?”
“The woman who has you doing the walk of shame in day-old wrinkled clothes. It’s still damn early in the morning, so I know you’re not returning from a run. Your whereabouts remain a secret from our adoring fans so I know you haven’t been with any of your stalking groupies.” Khadijah plops on the couch and stretches her arms along the back.
“Your process of elimination boggles my mind.” I head toward the bathroom and the shower calling my name. “Since you’re already here, make yourself at home.”
Once clean, I return to the sounds of Khadijah raiding my kitchen. She peers over the refrigerator door and points a raw baby carrot at me. “I hope you’re going shopping because feeding whoever made you of all people spend the night deserves better than this rabbit food in your fridge.” She bites into the vegetable and shuts the door.
“Why are you here, Deej?”
“Deflection number two. Okay, we’ll do me first. The label wants to negotiate our next contract and Stewart thinks now is the best time to put all our demands on the table.” She passes me to tour the rental while I follow behind.
“What’s the catch?”
“Cynical much?”
“Deej…” I warn. “News like that can be given over a phone call, not in person.”
“To sweeten the pot, Stewart says we need to show them we still have hit-maker potential.” She glances over her shoulder at me and catches my arched brow. “He wants that new song from you like yesterday.” Khadijah ends the last word on a high note like a hopeful question.
I open my mouth to deliver a healthy dose of reality.
“Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m not trying to pressure you but I kinda have to. So…how’s the songwriting going?” She injects an exaggerated amount of excitement into her voice.
“It isn’t.”
“Did you at least open the packages we sent you?”
“Yes, and I set the keyboard up but—”
“Holy shit! Is this what you’ve been doing with your time off?” Khadijah speeds into Kenya’s office.
