The Comeback (BWWM Interracial Romance Book 7) (4 page)

Surprised, she tapped the accept icon and brought the phone to her ear, turning down her music. “Hey, Amber—I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Amber smiled to herself. “No, you’re not. I just got out of a meeting, so I’m free at the moment.”

“Good; I’d hate it if I screwed something up for you.” After a short pause, Brenton spoke again. “Are you free this weekend?”

Amber swallowed against the tight feeling in her throat. “I—probably. I don’t really know for sure that there won’t be some kind of crisis that comes up, but for right now, I’m free.” She could hear Brenton sigh in relief.

“Would you—do you think you might want to go out with me? This weekend, I mean.”

Amber hesitated, tapping at her steering wheel with her free hand. She wanted to—but she didn’t want to. Unbidden, she thought of Kobe.

“Amber? Are you sure it isn’t a bad time?”

She pressed her lips together. “It’s not a bad time—sorry, just sort of still have my brain in the meeting. Yes. I’d love to go out with you this weekend.” Amber felt her cheeks burning. It was true; she would love to. But at the same time, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about Kobe cheating on her, making her a fool in front of the entire world. She told herself firmly that Brenton was different.

“I’m so glad. I’ll pick you up? Or would you rather meet me somewhere? I don’t know how you celebrities do things—or if you’d just die to be seen in a sensible family car.”

“Have you seen the clunker I drive around in? You can pick me up.”

“Seven okay? I can drop the baby off at her grandparents’ for the night.”

Amber agreed, and they exchanged a few more words before she reluctantly got off of the phone, knowing that Brenton’s job and life made him much busier than she was. She turned on the Bluetooth in her car and pulled up a Mary J. Blige album on her phone and made herself pull out of the parking spot.

The entire drive home, Amber’s thoughts were haunted by memories of Kobe. He had been sweet at first—in awe of her, worshipping her, giving her flowers at every turn. He had told her over and over again that she had the voice of an angel, that he was blessed beyond any imaginings just to have her attention. When he’d first asked her to help him out on a track, she’d been more than happy to lend her vocals to his project, she had been overjoyed to use her star power to bring him into the spotlight with her. Then, somehow, over time things had gotten strained. The flowers stopped coming, as did the little tokens of his affection. Kobe became evasive, he spent more and more time away from her—but he managed to get her to feature on his tracks, managed to convince her to let him headline her tours.

Amber sang along with Mary J., remembering all the hurt and the anger Kobe had put her through as she drove. She was still angry at him; she didn’t know when she would stop feeling angry, betrayed, and bitter. She wanted to go out with Brenton, she truly believed that Brenton was different—but she didn’t know whether or not she could trust her own opinions anymore. She didn’t know what to believe. Her mom would probably tell her that she would have to “get back in the pool” sooner or later. That she couldn’t let one bad man spoil her for companionship for the rest of her life. She knew she was still young; but she didn’t know if she could ever really fully trust any man ever again.

Amber paced the floor of her bedroom barefoot, knowing that she was being ridiculous, but not caring in the slightest. She couldn’t reasonably expect Brent to show up for another ten or fifteen minutes; even being punctual as she knew he would be, she had gotten ready well before the time they had agreed he would pick her up.

She had been so nervous, so worked up over the prospect of the date, that she had started getting ready the day before. Instead of devoting her hours to reworking her music, she had gone to the salon, and had her old extensions taken out and new ones put in. It was nearly an all-day commitment—one that her mom had told her more than once she was silly to make over a single date with a man, especially one who had known her since she was still a kid. But Amber had convinced herself—as much as she could—that it wasn’t just for Brenton. That she was getting her hair done for herself, to keep her image updated, and that the date with Brenton was just a coincidence. She had sat in the chair until her legs had gone numb, taking only the shortest break to sip a glass of wine and stand outside in the balmy air, a scarf wrapped around her head.

When she had come home from the ordeal, her mom had at least told her that the end result was perfectly beautiful: shining black shoulder-length waves, touchable and soft, that framed her oval face, giving her—Amber thought, at least—a regal look. It was the look of a queen, and something that made her feel a little more confident.

During the week, Brent had called her again to confirm their date, and told her he wanted to take her somewhere fun, where they could both enjoy themselves. He had suggested the aquarium—they had a special nighttime event going on that weekend, and they could get dinner afterwards. Amber had agreed, feeling a mixture of eagerness and apprehension. She was glad that they were going somewhere at least relatively casual; it took some of the pressure off. It would just be a good night with a good friend who wanted to be a little bit more. She would enjoy herself, but not take it too seriously.

The doorbell rang and Amber thrust her feet into her sandals—they went beautifully with the blue-and-white dress she had chosen, just formal enough for dinner out and just casual enough for walking around the aquarium without feeling overdressed. She took a deep breath and glanced in the mirror one last time before she left her bedroom, feeling her face heat up and then cool off as the blood rushed through her body.

Her mother was talking to Brenton, asking after his parents, about his aunts and uncles. Houston was a big city—but Amber’s friends were a small enough group that her mother was acquainted with their entire families. “I’m ready,” Amber said cheerfully, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. She had a bad moment when she saw the flowers in Brent’s hand; a flashback to Kobe and everything involved with him. But instead of a huge, gaudy display of expensive roses, Brent had brought her a small, beautiful sheaf of tulips.

“I know it’s not super expensive or anything,” Brenton said, smiling wryly.

Amber shook her head. “They’re beautiful—and you remembered I love tulips.” She handed them off to her mother after admiring the blooms’ deep yellow throats, the ink-black stamens and pistils, contrasting with the red and orange petals.

“You two keep your heads, now,” her mother said. “Let me know if you’re not going to be home until the morning.” Amber’s cheeks burned again and she couldn’t quite meet Brenton’s gaze for a long moment.

“I’ll talk to you later, Mom,” Amber said, hurrying to the door. She grabbed at Brenton’s hand, taking a deep breath to conquer her embarrassment.

“You’re not embarrassed, are you?” Brenton’s hand fell to the small of her back; Amber heard the amusement in his voice.

She glanced at him. “Oh, how about we go to your mom’s place and have her suggest you might be taking someone home, see how you feel.”

Brenton laughed, guiding her towards the passenger side of his car and opening the door for her. “I’d feel glad she thought I could convince you to come home with me.” Amber poked him in the ribs, gathering the skirt of her dress around her legs as she slipped into the seat, rolling her eyes at him.

The drive out to the aquarium, Amber began to relax; Brenton talked about his workweek, telling her about the silly difficulties of transitioning from military bureaucracy to civilian bureaucracy. “It’s really kind of mind-blowing,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s a whole different kind of slowness. I would never have believed it was possible to get worse than the military that way.”

In her own turn, Amber told Brent about her meetings with her new producer, with the record label and Carl. She explained the hierarchy of the recording industry, the need to court and work with particular producers. “Getting David Underhill on my side—getting him to sign onto the project, it’s a big deal.” She shook her head. “He’s really pleased with what I’m coming up with, he really believes in it. When it gets closer to the time for release, that’s going to make a big difference.”

“Wouldn’t it be more important for your manager to be on your side?”

Amber shrugged. “He’s got to be on my side, but he doesn’t have a huge amount of clout. David Underhill is a big name. If he says something’s got potential, that it’s sellable, that will mean a lot to the label. He’s also a buffer between me and the A&R people.”

Amber had been to the aquarium so many times that she would never have thought she could find it new; but in Brenton’s company, wandering through the exhibits, talking about their high school years—the field trips they had taken, the pranks that they’d pulled on each other.

“I brought Felicity here the other weekend,” Brenton told her as they lingered at the shipwreck exhibit. “Obviously she’s too little to really take in any of the information, but she loved the touch tank with the stingrays.”

Amber grinned. “What little girl wouldn’t? I know I’d be stoked to touch a real, live wild animal.”

They took their time, and Amber felt the little frisson of anticipation getting stronger and stronger. She put aside her fears about opening up and felt herself begin to relax, genuinely enjoying Brenton’s company as they went through every part of the aquarium they could. They reminded each other of every last inside joke their group of friends had shared, about the evolutions of romantic relationships within their crew.

“You know,” Amber said as they finally walked out of the aquarium, hand in hand, “I kept hoping that you would ask me out, but you never did.”

“I kept psyching myself out of it,” he admitted. “I’d get to where I was almost ready to do it—where I was convinced that you would say yes—and then I’d finally give up, thinking that it was a lost cause and you’d just let me down easy.”

Amber laughed. “The whole time I was just… I thought you were the coolest guy, and if I just made myself a little more obvious, without being too obvious, you’d make a move.”

As they approached the car, Brenton stopped. He turned Amber to face him, and looked down into her eyes, smiling slightly. “If I had really, seriously thought for even a second you would really say yes…” He shook his head. “I guess we both had to go a different way for a while.”

Amber shrugged. “Maybe you have to be away from someone to really appreciate them.” She thought—for just an instant—about the call that had come in earlier in the day from Kobe; as with all of his calls, she had declined it. She hadn’t even bothered to listen to the message. She knew it would hurt too much.

Brenton leaned in, and Amber’s heart started to beat faster in her chest as he closed the distance between them. He brushed his lips against hers, softly at first, and then more and more urgently, wrapping his arms around her tightly and pulling her close in the orange-lit gloom of the parking lot. For the first time in months, Amber found her skin tingling, her nerves awakened, her whole body warming up as she started to respond to the kiss, opening her mouth to the swipe of Brenton’s tongue and pressing her body against his. She draped her arms around his shoulders, feeling the strong muscles in his back and arms, the crush of his chest against her. Brenton deepened the kiss, and Amber started to feel lightheaded, breathless with desire; she couldn’t quite believe how much she wanted him in that moment—how much she wanted the kiss to go on forever and never end.

He broke away from her lips, cradling her body against his, and Amber panted slightly, shaking her head to clear it. “If I had known,” she said, licking her lips to catch the last, faint trace of Brenton’s taste on them, “that you kissed like that, I would have asked you out and not even cared about whether it was the right thing to do or not.”

Brenton laughed. “Well I didn’t kiss like that in high school, obviously,” he told her. “I mean, I’ve had practice since then.”

Amber smiled ruefully, looking up at him. “I guess you would have.”

Brenton’s bright eyes clouded over for a moment and he let her go gently, reaching out and opening the door of his car for her.

They made their way to the restaurant in near-silence; Amber was still shaken by the intensity of her sudden desire, her deep need to kiss Brenton again. She wondered, in the back of her mind, if someone from the press had run into them, had seen them at the aquarium. She wondered if pictures of her and Brenton would wind up on websites. If Kobe would see them and know that she was moving on; she wondered if she even cared.

Amber managed to stir herself to begin talking again as they were seated at their table, realizing in a panic that she might be giving Brenton the impression that she wasn’t having a good time. They began talking about their lives—not just about their careers, but about their relationships. Amber laughed at the irony of Brenton choosing a seafood restaurant for their dinner after the aquarium. “Well, hell, go see fish and then go eat fish—seemed like a no brainer to me,” Brenton said with a grin.

“It’s definitely a theme date.” Amber devoured her ceviche, the seafood hot-pot that she’d ordered, and found herself—after a few glasses of wine—starting to open up.

Brenton asked her, carefully, about her romantic life. “I know—I probably shouldn’t ask about it, but you and I both know that it’s been everywhere.”

Amber shrugged. “Kobe certainly was…” she sipped at her wine. “When he first started coming after me, wanting to date me, I thought he was just the most gorgeous, talented, charming guy.” She shook her head. “I could kick myself in the ass right now for how stupid I was. I put everything aside for him; I mean, you know what went down—you’ve followed my career.” She sighed. “He just… he had me all tangled up in his game.” She told Brenton about how Kobe had started to become more distant once his career had started really taking off, how they spent less and less time together. Her eyes stinging, she told him even about finding out what Kobe was really doing; that he had been cheating on her. “God, I was such a damn fool. I let him completely sideline everything I’d been working for, and even—even after he knew that I’d found out about him sleeping around he thought I’d still be featuring on his tracks, still touring with him.”

Brenton reached out and closed his hand around hers. “You were in love with him. You shouldn’t kick yourself for trusting the person you love.”

Amber smiled, bringing her free hand up to carefully brush away the easy tears that had formed. “I just… thought I was smarter than that.” She shrugged and took a deep breath. Brenton ordered coffee for them both and they continued talking. “I guess,” she said, licking her lips and trying to put her thoughts into words, “I was blinded by the glamour of it all. It was really nice at first, the whole thing. The attention, the fame, the beautiful dresses...”

“It’s easy to love,” Brenton said, smiling slightly. “I can see where it would turn your head a little bit.”

Amber sighed. “I mean, when you’re just coming up it’s amazing. Everyone wants to be around you, everyone wants to be your friend. Exclusive clubs and restaurants want you to show up, just to give them some cred. Designers just handed me dresses to wear on the red carpet.” She laughed. “But pretty much none of them are real friends. They want to be your friend when you’re on the way up, but ditch you quick when you level off, or start looking like you might be on the way down. These last few months, I’ve sort of decided that I want to be a little more real.”

“I think it’s only natural. I mean, you’re a grown woman now, you’re not just some just-out-of-high school girl.” Brenton brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it lightly. “You’ve only gotten more beautiful, and you were gorgeous back then.” He pressed his lips together, his bright eyes almost glowing in the subdued light of the restaurant. “You know I never really stopped loving you.”

“What? You got married and had a kid!” Amber shook her head in disbelief.

“I loved Kelsey; don’t get me wrong. I cared about her a lot. I wouldn’t have married her otherwise. But it was sort of like… when you went off to go be famous I sort of figured I’d never meet a woman as amazing as you. So when Kelsey came along, she was—I thought—the absolute best I could do. But I never stopped having feelings for you, you know.”

Amber smiled slowly. “I think in the back of my mind, I always had a little space for you too, even if I did a piss-poor job of keeping in touch. Brent, I’m so sorry.” She looked down at their hands, their fingers entwined on the tablecloth. It was strange, how beautiful it looked: his pale-tan fingers overlapping hers, light and dark against the stark white of the cloth. “I should have been a better friend. I should have known what was going on in your life.” She looked up to meet his gaze. “For God’s sake I should at least have sent flowers for Kelsey’s funeral.”