Authors: Rhonda Bowen

One Way or Another (31 page)

BOOK: One Way or Another

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“Now, that's my girl! Yo, Jules, I can't believe you hooked me up with Baron Levy,” Truuth said, appearing out of nowhere. Whereas the media attention had worn Jules out, it seemed to have completely energized Truuth.

“It wasn't me; it was all you,” Jules said, smiling.

Every time she looked at Truuth, she felt inexplicable pride swell inside her. Most people would have broken, or become bitter if they had grown up with a mother who was a drug addict and who died without giving them as much as a prayer. But not Truuth. Not only had he risen above it, he had used his experience to reach others who were still where he used to be. He used his music to show them that God could be their way out of no way, just like He had been for Truuth.

“You gotta meet somebody,” Truuth said, beckoning to a figure nearby. “G, you already know 'Dre; this is my publicist, Jules; Jules, this is my cousin Germaine.”

For the second time that night Jules caught herself staring.

“We already met,” Germaine said casually, his eyes lingering on Jules for a split second.

Jules shivered despite the warmth of the club.

“Yeah, we met,” she mumbled, tearing her eyes away from his.

“I've been looking all over for you guys,” Tanya said, appearing out of nowhere. She stopped suddenly, looked up at Germaine, then at Jules.

“Tanya, this is Truuth's cousin, Germaine; Germaine, this is the boss lady, Tanya,” Jules introduced.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Tanya said brightly, before turning back to 'Dre and Truuth. It was obvious from her briskness that she was in full business mode.

“There's this guy who's doing a gospel thing later this year. I think he might be interested in booking Truuth. Maybe we can even get him to squeeze some of the other artists into the roster.”

Not one to miss a business opportunity, 'Dre was out of his seat and nudging Tanya across the room before she had even finished speaking.

“Catch up with you later, cuz,” Truuth said, trailing behind them.

“Aren't you gonna do the mad dash with them?” Germaine asked, raising one eyebrow questioningly.

“Nah. They can handle it, that is if they don't scare the poor guy off with their enthusiasm first.”

Germaine chuckled lightly before occupying the seat 'Dre had just vacated.

“I thought you weren't gonna stalk me,” Jules said.

“It's not stalking if you enjoy it.”

Before she could think of a witty response, the bartender came over and placed a glass of cranberry juice in front of Jules and what looked like a root beer before Germaine.

“Thanks, Owen,” Germaine said, nodding slightly to the bartender as he left.

“Since when are you and the bartender on a first-name basis?” she asked.

“Since I hired him.”

“You hired him?” Jules said. “So I guess you're going to tell me next that you own the place?”

Germaine smiled easily, his eyes never leaving Jules's.

“You're the owner? But wait, that means ...” Jules's eyes widened as Germaine casually took a sip from his root beer and watched her put the pieces together.

“You told Owen to cut me off!”

Germaine shrugged unapologetically. “Guilty as charged.”

“Why would you do that?”

“How else could I get you to let me buy you a drink?”

Jules opened and closed her mouth several times as she searched for a response. She was sure that she probably should be mad at him. But she could only shake her head and smile. Guess she didn't have to look far for that something new after all.

“Okay, so you got a few moves,” Jules said, refusing to give in so quickly. “Is that supposed to impress me?”

“I never said it should.”

“Good, because it doesn't.”

“I picked up on that,” Germaine said easily. “Tell me something though,” he said, cocking his head to the side and looking at her curiously. “What would it take to impress you?”

His eyes were hypnotizing her again, and Jules felt her stomach begin to do somersaults.

“Well, if I had to tell you, then it wouldn't be that impressive anymore, now would it.”

“You do have a point there.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “You're something else, Jules. A guy's gotta bring his âA' game when it comes to you.”

“Oh, you were bringing game? I couldn't tell.”

“Ouch,” Germaine groaned, leaning back and grabbing his chest. “You're killing me.”

“Nah, you're fine. Most guys wouldn't hold out for as long as you have.”

“Yes, well, I'm not most guys,” he said. “I like a good challenge. You, however, are one tough cookie.”

“You gotta be in a city like this,” Jules said, taking a sip from her juice. “Toronto doesn't pull punches.”

“You got that right,” he said. Jules didn't miss the serious look that crossed his face for a quick moment. She wondered what he had been through that made him agree so strongly.

“Thanks for this, by the way,” she said, raising her glass.

“No problem. You looked like you needed it,” he said, his focus returning to her.

“I did.”

“Did you want something to eat as well?”

Jules couldn't help but smile. “You don't have toâ”

Before she could protest, he had signaled Owen to the table and had her order some food. Within moments Owen returned with a large basket of sweet potato fries. Jules narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“How did this get here so quickly? You got some tricks up your sleeve, don't you, Germaine,” Jules said, squinting at him suspiciously before popping a fry into her mouth.

“And you're making me use all of them,” Germaine said.

She laughed lightly and pushed the basket of fries toward him.

“So, I'm pretty good at summing up people,” Jules began, “and I definitely wouldn't peg you as a nightclub owner.”

Germaine shrugged. “It's not really your average nightclub,” he said. “Plus, it's something to do in the evenings after the store closes.”

“What store?” Jules asked in confusion.

“This store,” Germaine said, looking at her strangely. “Sound Lounge is a record store from ten to seven. Then on Sundays, Mondays, and Thursdays, we close up downstairs and use the second floor as a lounge.”

Jules looked around and for the first time noticed the stairs at the back that probably led down to the darkened ground level. She had come up via the side stairs outside and hadn't even thought twice about what might be downstairs.

“Up here used to be part of the store,” Germaine continued, “but we just moved everything downstairs and capitalized on this space.”

“Wow. I never noticed that,” Jules said, still looking around. “I thought the posters and LPs on the wall were just part of the dÃ©cor, but they're actually part of the store. That's pretty crazy.”

“Yeah, well, with music moving to the Internet, the record store thing is pretty much on its way out,” Germaine said. “I figured if we could add some entertainment, feature a few artists a couple nights a week, and charge a small cover, then we could really boost the business. So far it's been working.” He chuckled. “Your bartender friend actually manages the store during the day when I can't.”

Jules cocked her head to the side and looked at Germaine, a small smile spreading across her face.

“Okay, you got me,” she said. “I'm impressed.”

“Imagine that,” he said, popping another fry into his mouth. “And I wasn't even running game this time.”

Jules threw back her head and laughed.

DAFINA BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.
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New York, NY 10018

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

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ISBN: 978-0-7582-7791-6

BOOK: One Way or Another

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