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“Good, we’ll try a few so I can see how your body moves.”
“Little lamb, you are intimately aware of how my body moves.”
His nickname for me causes me to stifle a gasp as heat flourishes between my thighs.
I bow my head to hide my reaction. “You’re only supposed to say that name when we’re having sex.”
Cameron flips his sticks in the air winks at me. “Then we’ll have something to look forward to after this session is done.” He catches the sticks mid-air. “Thirty seconds?”
I begin sketching, wondering at the power an earnest confession holds. Not too long ago, a sense of alienation held me hostage. Now, my body feels light with hope for the possibilities. Is this love?
For Cameron’s sake I have to figure it out. For my sake, too.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Cameron
“I’d like to congratulate everyone on our progress,” Kenya addresses the Founder’s Day planning committee with a confident smile that makes me forget myself.
I’m supposed to be her co-chair, but on days like this where she’s in her element, I sit and admire her in silence. Most of the women gush at her praise, except for one Ms. Cheryl Lee.
Since Pedro’s put down, she’s turned her attention to me, disregarding Kenya’s very public claim on me. Cheryl Lee hasn’t approached me one-on-one yet, which is the only reason I haven’t addressed her behavior.
If she knew the lengths I’m willing to go for Kenya, she wouldn’t delude herself about her prospect. Although I’m not where I want to be yet, I’m getting there. One dark cloud continues to hang over my head. I will confess what I’ve been withholding, but the more time that passes, the harder it is to admit the truth.
The clock ticking down my time is a constant presence, darkening every sacred moment I spend with Kenya. Liquid Obsession’s concert is less than two months away. Our private performance for Pedro and Onyx is in less time, but I’m more concerned with keeping up appearances than what performing in front of an audience for the first time since my performance anxiety became a thing.
“Kenya.” Cheryl Lee raises her hand. , I’d like to call a motion to replace a sitting chair.”
“What would the reason be?”
“Gross negligence?” Cheryl Lee’s usual sour disposition whenever she interacts with Kenya holds an extra bite of vindictiveness under her venomous smile.
The members in the room rise in protest. Not one to sit on the sidelines while the love of my life is being called out for nonsense, I stand, causing my chair to crash against the wall.
“Where do you get off throwing unfounded accusations around?” I demand.
“Unfounded? You wish Mr. Conflict of Interest.” Cheryl Lee’s smirk widens and she folds her arms. “Not to be one but what else would you call a person spreading false marketing?”
“What is she trying not to be?” Mrs. Pembroke breaks in. “And what does that have to do with Kenya? That girl is doing a fine job. Better than the last committee head.”
“Say it twice!” Ms. Nina nods her head like a congregant warming up to Sunday’s sermon. “ I’m old, but I ain’t senile and my memory is as long and clear as the bay this here town was founded on. Yet some of y’all have forgotten who was in charge of things during the last Founder’s Day debacle.”
All eyes swing to Cheryl Lee.
Undeterred, Cheryl stares down the increasingly hostile stares. “We aren’t rehashing the past, but trying to make this event a memorable one for all the good reasons. Don’t come at me because I have it on good authority that Liquid Obsession never agreed to perform.”
“What are you talking about?” Kenya asks.
The rest of the committee members glance at each other and murmur quietly. Cheryl Lee’s confidence is undeniable. She almost has me believing her and I’m the one that booked my band. I narrow my eyes at Cheryl Lee while more lies pour out of her mouth.
“I’m friends with the lead singer,” Cheryl Lee says as she leans into her chair. Now that she has everyone’s attention, a sense of superiority surrounds. “I was talking with my friend yesterday and gushing about how excited I was that she was coming to Escondido Bay. I may have mentioned being put out that I wasn’t the one to convince her to perform. Anyway, I kept going on and on about how great it would be to catch up in person, when she told me the band never agreed to come here. If that doesn’t scream negligence for opening us up to all kinds of criticism and tearing our reputation to shreds, what does? A committee chair should always deliver on their promises.”
I leap up, a defense and a put down racing up my throat to give Cheryl Lee the set down she’s been begging for. Kenya’s grip on my arm stops me. I glare at her, my fury a caged beast on the brink of freeing itself. With a shake of her head, Kenya gets me to back down in silence.
The voices that had lowered to a murmur rise again. Women lob question after question without giving Kenya or I time to respond.
“Everyone, please! I take Cheryl Lee’s complaint seriously and like all of you want to make Founder’s Day one to remember, for the right reasons.” Kenya takes a deep breath. “We’ll convene today’s meeting while I get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, Cheryl Lee, please hang back.”
