AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) (10 page)

BOOK: AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories)
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Chapter 7

              As we performed that night, I looked around at the people working backstage. David, again, was not there. I was disappointed. After talking to the others I felt like I owed him an apology for disregarding any feelings he might have thought he had.

              The crowd enjoyed the show and everyone sounded amazing. I felt like I was off the entire show, and I knew it was because my mind was going over the past several days’ events, not focusing on my performance. As we left the stage we all told each other good job and everyone made their way to the tents to get water and eat while the band did interviews.

              Back at the hotel, everyone made plans to go out. I decided to stay behind. I checked with the front desk, but David Lawson was not a registered guest.

              I went to my room for a shower and change of clothes. After looking around online and watching TV, I regretted not joining the others who went out, but I knew it was too late to join them. I threw on jeans and a tank top and went downstairs. Attached to the lobby of the hotel, there was a bar and lounge. I could have a night cap and maybe get some sleep.

              I ordered rum and Dr. Pepper and sat at the bar. One or two other late-night patrons stopped to say hello. They had come to town for the concert and bought tickets early enough to book the same hotel. They asked about the band and got my autograph.

              I ordered a second drink when they left.

              The TV behind the bar was showing entertainment news. There was a countdown of the 30 hottest men under 30. I watched twenty-three through nineteen as I finished my drink. Then, I continued the show up in my room. They covered eighteen and seventeen during the elevator ride and sixteen as I changed clothes. They were announcing number fifteen just as I got comfortable under the covers.

              “David Lawson, age 29, is number fifteen in our countdown of the thirty hottest men under thirty,” Giuliana Rancic’s voice played over images of David. “The young tech mogul made a breakthrough in sound technology in 2010 while he was still in college patenting improvements in the Bluetooth industry. Now the CEO and founder of a Fortune 500 company, this bachelor spends more time on his work than his private life. Thought to be somewhat of a recluse, the very private Lawson has been single for five years since his breakup with his long time high school sweetheart and fiancé, Nicole Williams. In the months following the breakup he dated a few A-list stars only to decide to focus on his work until quote, ‘the right woman comes along.’ And now, at number fourteen…”

              I turned the TV off and pulled my laptop back out. I looked more closely at the pictures of David the day before. I realized a few of them where David was younger were the same woman, just different haircuts and styles over time. The others seemed to only appear in one or two pictures or group photos and none were recent. The most recently dated photos seemed to be product appearances where he declined interviews and only gave bits and pieces about the technology he was researching.

              I sat my laptop back on the nightstand and relaxed under the covers. The more I learned about David the more I felt I owed him an apology.

             

Chapter 8

              The rest of the tour went without a hitch, but also without any encounters with David. I imagined either he finished his research or made sure to avoid our tour to avoid me. I couldn’t say I blamed him.

              When we wrapped our last performance, the entire band, crew, and all members of the tour celebrated in the banquet hall. Carol made a speech thanking everyone for their help. The lead singer of the band gave everyone thanks for helping bring their music to life, and said that the band all felt like music made everyone family.

              We ate, drank, and celebrated that we would all be returning to our homes for a well-deserved break. Some discussed their coming plans. I mingled briefly, then attempted sneaking out of the crowd to my room.

              As I reached the exit to the lobby, I bumped into someone trying to come in.

              “Sorry,” we both said.

              When I looked up, I was face to face with David.

              “Hi,” I said.

              I tried to smile in a friendly way, but I’m sure it was as awkward as I felt having not seen him after the way we had left things.

              “Hello,” he said. “I was just going to speak with Carol for a moment and thank the band for their help.”

              I nodded and stepped out of his way. As he stepped forward I called to him and he turned back around.

              “I owe you an apology,” I said.

              “No, you have your opinions and that is good. Just remember opinions are not facts, particularly when you want to get to know someone,” he said.

              “Well, my opinions about you were wrong and cut short what, regardless of the romantic relationship, could have been a good friendship. You’re a nice guy and probably had good intentions,” I said.

              He nodded and finally gave me a little smile.

              “Good luck with your research. I hope your surround sound project goes well,” I said.

              “Thanks, good luck with your music,” he said.

              I made my way out and when I looked back he was shaking Carol’s hand and thanking the band. The handshake was a good grip. His arm followed Carol’s rapid up and down motion.

 

 

Chapter 9

              My flight the next day was a straight trip from Virginia to Savannah, Georgia. When I got to my flat I had a few messages on my machine and a pile of mail. Before I checked them, I wanted a shower in my own bathroom and a nap in my own bed.

              Once I was more relaxed, I went through the mail first. It was mostly bills and a few cards. I played through the messages. There were a few messages for studio sessions with some of my regulars. I had one call that stood out. It was a booking for a few small shows with a new band, and it had been left within the past week. The message said that it would be eight cities in one month and that a sample disc was in the mail for my consideration.

              I called back the studio sessions and booked them for the coming week. The mini tour message did not leave any contact information, so all I could do was see what came in the mail.

              After a few days, I held an unmarked disc from an envelope with no return address. The music was nice. It bordered on being something I would have expected to hear in a coffee shop, but there was something in the vocals that stayed with me. There were also some interesting choices in the instruments featured on some of the songs. The lyrics had good meaning, but could use a little work with some of the phrasing. Overall, there was something captivating about the music as a whole, so I was willing to take on the project.

              I just didn’t know who to get in touch with to accept. Then, a few days later I received another phone call.

              “Is this Iman Bowen?” a man’s voice asked.

              “Yes, this is she,” I replied.

              “Great! This is Marcus Springfield. I recently sent you a disc for a band I manage that is doing a small tour. We were hoping you would join us as back up. As you can hear from the disc, we need stronger backup vocals, particularly on this first tour. I understand you are one of the best in the business. That would give us a great leg up getting traction for the band,” he said, finally pausing.

              “It sounds very interesting, Mr. Springfield. I do like the sound of the band. They are a little rough around the edges, but I believe they show promise. Refining their sound and message will come with time. When can we meet?” I asked.

              “If you will take the project, I have been instructed to fly you out as soon as possible so we can re-record a copy of the album that is better suited to distribution. The tour would start in the next month,” Mr. Springfield said.

              I thought for a moment. He sounded really excited and energetic, but this band was moving fairly quickly. It looked like with rerecording and the tour I would be gone for a month.

              “Well, I just got back from a tour and I booked some studio sessions for this coming week. I could fly out the following Monday. Where would all this be taking place?” I asked.

              “Well, the recording and first performance is in Little Rock. After that, we will make the circuit of Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas, going back to Arkansas,” he said.

              “That sounds good. What is the name of the band?” I asked.

              “Sounds of Lawlessness,” he said. “We look forward to having you. I will get your initial plane ticket and a packet with your hotel information in the mail immediately. Have a great week.”

              He hung up the phone before I could respond.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

              At the airport, there was a chubby man waiting there, holding a sign with my name. He seemed to recognize me. As I made my way toward him he tucked the sign under his arm and moved toward me as well, offering a smile and a wave.

              “Ms. Bowen, I’m Marcus Springfield. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said, offering his hand.

              I grasped his hand and we shook hands heartily.

              “Nice to meet you as well. I look forward to meeting the band and working with you all. I don’t know that the band manager has ever picked me up. You all must be a fairly close-knit bunch,” I said.

              “We are. The band and I have known each other for some time. Our founder and lead singer has been a friend of mine since college, but he decided to focus on the tech and production side of things,” he said still smiling. “Let’s go get your luggage.”

              We made our way through baggage claim and to his car. He dropped me off at the hotel and invited me to join the band for dinner that night after I had time to rest. We would begin recording the next day.

              At the hotel I took a short nap, then showered and dressed for dinner. I wasn’t sure where they planned to go for dinner. To avoid being over- or underdressed, I wore a knee-length black dress with a silver belt and silver sandals. I left my hair down and didn’t wear any jewelry except for earrings.

              When I went to the lobby I didn’t see Mr. Springfield. I waited a few minutes and no one came so I checked in with the woman at the front desk.

              “Yes, Ms. Bowen. A car has been sent for you. The driver should be just outside,” she said, smiling pleasantly.

              “Thank you,” I said, returning her smile and adding a nod.

              Outside the door, a man in a suit seemed to recognize me. He stood beside a nice luxury car and gave a slight bow, opened the door, and gave a wave of his hand for me to take a seat. I said a brief thanks and watched as he drove to the restaurant. Little Rock was a nice city. It was larger than I expected. I felt concerned about being underdressed, considering the driver service.

              We arrived at a place called Brave New Restaurant. The driver parked at the door and came to the back passenger side door to help me out of the car. Once inside a hostess asked if I had reservations.

              “I’m meeting a few people. It should be under Mr. Springfield or Sounds of Lawlessness, I imagine,” I said unsure if that was correct.

              She gave me a knowing smile and said, “Yes, you are with Mr. Lawson. Right this way.”

              “Mr. Lawson,” I said.

              As I followed her, more and more about the entire situation began to make sense. The name of the band and the name of his company. The mention of the change of direction in college. The lack of information provided with initial message and CD.

              David.

              As we reached the table I was unsure whether I was happy or angry. It was hard to be angry when I was in such a beautiful restaurant.

              “Alright, your waitress will be with you shortly,” the hostess said and returned to her podium.

              David stood as I arrived at the table, then came around to help me push in my seat. Once we were seated he didn’t leave much opportunity for me to speak.

              “You probably feel like I have tricked you, and I suppose in some ways I have. I do have a band and we do travel and play bars and small venues. I have no intention of making it anything larger than it is. I do want you to record with us and join us on our coming tour. You don’t want to date me, but I think that you really just need an opportunity to get to know me,” he said.

              “David, this is all really sweet and I appreciate the effort you made. You didn’t have to orchestrate all this with the tour and recording though,” I said.

              “Would you have talked to me otherwise?” he asked.

              “Well, I didn’t give you the apology you deserved before. I shouldn’t have let all my personal judgments affect our time together. Once I learned more about you I realized you were probably the opposite of everything I had known,” I said.

              “Are you saying I have a chance?” he asked, smiling.

              “I’m saying,” I paused to think, “I need to think.”

              He looked disappointed for a moment. Then, he looked at me with determination.

              “Okay, feel free to think, but I want to tell you I don’t need to think. Something in me sparked when I first saw you. A fire lit in me the night we were together and has fueled more and more even as you’ve resisted me. Seeing you tonight, I know I won’t give up,” he said.

              His eyes were locked on mine and never broke our gaze. I cleared my throat and reached for my water glass. The waitress came to take our order and he waved her off before she could speak.

              “There is a lot that comes with an interracial relationship. I don’t know if you are ready for that,” I said.

              “I don’t care about that. I care about you,” he replied.

              “Besides, I don’t know if I could date a billionaire, you probably have to spend a good bit of time in the public eye,” I continued.

“I’m just a man who works hard for a living and I avoid media as much as possible,” he said making his way around the table.

“We live so far apart. There is a lot to think about if we were to have a relationship,” I said quickly.

“We both travel a lot anyway. I would be willing to join you on your trips or fly you to meet me. Eventually we could agree on somewhere to live if you were willing,” he said, standing beside my chair and taking my hand.

              My mind was racing with all the things that could stand in our way. As quickly as I thought of problems, he had a solution.

              The waitress returned.

              “Two bottles of wine, one red and one white. Two of whatever the best item is on the menu tonight and two desserts,” he said to the waitress while still facing me. “Please tell the chef the order is for me and I would like it to go.”

              She nodded and returned to the kitchen.

              “Let’s take the food and everything to the hotel and we can continue to talk if you need more convincing,” he said.

              “Are you sure you don’t plan on using other methods to convince me?” I asked.

              He kneeled at my chair and kissed me. I knew immediately that I had missed his kiss.

“I have been holding myself back from so much and so many people. I have had all these opinions and observations and projected them on everyone I have come in contact with. I have been right in many circumstances, but how many times have I been wrong? I stopped so many relationships before they could even get started,” I said shaking my head.

He still held my hands.

“That could all change,” he said comfortingly.

I thought a bit longer. I nodded to him.

“Okay, let’s go to the hotel. I do want to talk though,” I said.

“Absolutely,” he nodded.

He sat in his chair, seeming more excited. I felt a bit excited as well. The things holding me back from David had been things I projected on him, and over time I would learn that all those things were not the way I perceived them.

When our food arrived, David and I left the restaurant. He dismissed the car he initially hired for me. He led me to his SUV and opened the passenger side door.

“This isn’t what I would expect for a billionaire,” I commented aloud.

“I’m not what most people expect when they get to know me. I drive a normal car. I live in a three-bedroom house within driving distance of my hometown. When I’ m not working I play music with a band I started in college. We were making a name for ourselves locally before my first breakthrough with the Bluetooth adjustments. Each of the other guys had good things happen for them as well with work or family, so we still perform locally. I’m a normal guy. I like sports bars, video games, and want a home and family,” he said as he drove.

“What happened with your fiancé?” I asked.

“We dated all through high school. I proposed in college. It seemed like things were going well, but she started cheating on me in college. She came clean about it though. We are still friends, but I couldn’t forgive her,” he said.

I didn’t really know what to say. The rest of the ride to the hotel was in silence.

When he parked the car he came around to my door and held it as I got out. He held the door as we walked into the hotel as well. When we reached my room, before I opened the door, I turned to face him.

“I do like you. I like you more than I’ve wanted to allow myself to,” I said.

“Well, that’s reassuring,” he said.

“I’ve thought about you a lot,” I added.

“You have been my only thought,” he replied.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

He kissed me once more.

“I’ve never had a doubt,” he said.

BOOK: AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories)
4.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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