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Rockstar Secrets (Forbidden Chords Book 1) Page 20
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He knocked again and glanced back over at the driveway. Her car was here. He pressed the doorbell a couple of times and waited. The door snatched open, and her eyes softened.
“What are you doing here?” She fell into his arms hiding her face in the crook of his neck. He felt the slight tremble in her body and pulled her back to look at her face.
“I thought I’d surprise you. Surprise.”
She laughed and pulled him inside.
“I’m sorry, today is drop off day. Isn’t it? My days and nights are still mixed up.” He palmed his head, standing to leave. They agreed to save his introduction until after she ironed out the issues. She’d gone to see a family attorney, but it didn’t appear to be any better to him.
“Don’t leave.” He turned and faced her. “They were supposed to be here two hours ago.”
Marques fell back to the couch and pulled her with him. He was learning more about his lady every day, starting with he had to read between the lines. He scanned her makeup-free face; her eyes were puffy. She’d been crying. He glanced around the room, the blinds were pulled closed, and the room was dark.
“How long have you been in this place alone?” Shock registered in her eyes before she broke eye contact. “Call him to check on their status. And if they’re not coming get dressed.”
“I’m not up for crowds and people.”
“You’ll love this crowd. Put on something comfortable. There is a beautiful day waiting for you princess.” He kissed her and stood to pull her up to her feet.
Brione walked down the hall, and he pulled out his phone. He called Damian, satisfied he’d kill two birds with one stone he waited for her to return. This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. She was sitting in this house alone. Still trying to forge this fight on her own. He’d have to show her what he meant to roll with a Carter. Then he’d light a fire under Stewart’s ass. This was ending. Soon.
“I’m ready.” She returned fresh-faced in jeans and sneakers.
“Let’s get out of here.” They walked down the sidewalk. “This is a quiet neighborhood. How do you like it?”
“It’s not bad, but I’m hoping to find another place. Especially since I received my payment from RSE. Thank you very much.” She slid into the car, he closed the door behind her.
He rounded the car and got inside. “You’re welcome you earned that check.”
“And the bonus?”
“The bonus too. The Atlanta show will be the best yet thanks to your adjustments to the live-streaming.”
“Did they get it established with Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube?”
“You’d know for yourself if you came back to Atlanta with me.”
“We’ll see,” she said glancing out of the window. “Where are we going?”
“To volunteer.”
“Volunteer?” Brione looked over her shoulder as he stopped at the light. He leaned over and kissed her missing the feel of her lips.
“Yes, volunteer. Damian and Imani have a dance studio. They serve dinner, and I thought it would get you out of that gloomy house.”
“I’d like that. Tell me about the studio.”
Marques drove through Houston like a native, hitting the back roads to avoid the evening traffic. He told her all about how RSE sent Damian to evict Imani, and now he lived here permanently. The two are married and expecting their first child.
“How sweet.”
“So Bruce and Damian live here?”
“Yes, I have a spot here too.”
“Why is this the first time I’m hearing this?” she asked with a smile on her face.
“You never asked.”
“Eliana said you were an underground Atlanta artist. I assumed you lived in Atlanta.”
“I do. But Houston is part of me. Plus the majority of my music was made here, since Bruce lives here full time.”
“That makes sense.” She nodded as they pulled up outside the dance studio. “I’d love to see your place.”
“I think I can arrange for a private tour.” He wiggled his eyebrows. His only goal was to see the light enter her eyes. This would be the last time he left her to handle this situation alone.
“I’d like that.” She leaned forward, and he braced an arm on the side of the seat.
“Tonight?” he whispered, placing another kiss on the side of her neck.
“Even better.”
“Done. We’ll head over after hanging out here.” He got out and opened her door. They held hands walking inside the studio.
“Hey!” He yelled entering the doors. The kids ran over. “Slow down, slow down.”
“Where have you been?”
“Are we going to the studio today?”
“Who is that?”
He laughed as they asked questions, yelling over each other. He tried to answer in order.
“I’ve been on tour. No studio today, next time. And this is my lady, Brione these are the munchkins.” They all laughed. And Marques called out the names of the kids gathered around. He reached down to pick up his favorite. “And this cutie is Tiffany.”
Brione smiled as Marques pulled Tiffany’s ponytail sending her into a fit of giggles.
“Get back to class,” a woman called out entering the room. Her small round belly was leading the way.
“This is Imani Hughes, owner of Harmony Dance. She also choreographed the tour.”
“Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Imani said stepping forward, her beauty radiated.
“I hope they were all good things.”
“Absolutely, I was expecting you to walk on water from all that Marques has said about you.”
Brione elbowed him. “No, I try to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground.”
Imani laughed.
“Ah, Baby Boy you got here fast.” A man entered and wrapped an arm around Imani. He shook hands with Marques before pulling him in for a quick hug. “This must be Brione. Damian Hughes.”
“The detective.” She turned to Marques, he chuckled.
“You will learn to not listen to this man of yours,” Damian joked.
"Or mine," Imani added.
They walked the hall toward an office. “Would you like a tour?” Imani offered.
“I’d love it," Brione said.
“This will give you guys some time to talk.” Imani twisted her cheek toward her husband and he ignored it planting a kiss on her mouth. She playfully slapped him on the chest and turned to the hall.
Marques kissed her. “Have fun? Don’t get lost.”
“I’d never go too far.” The words echoed ones she’d said before, and she meant it just as much now as she did then. Nothing had worked out as she’d hoped. His arrival was the light she needed.
“Do you want the ten cents or dollar tour?” Imani’s eyes twinkled when she smiled.
Brione patted her empty pockets. “I’ll take the dollar tour.”
“Then right this way.”
Brione followed Imani down the hall. The facility was massive. They had fifteen dance studios. Most of the rooms were full of occupants, old and young.
“How much do you know about us?” Imani asked.
“Very little.”
“Well, I started this studio after my grandmother passed. Then almost two years ago it was ruined by some area thugs. Thanks to RSE and my husband we rebuilt it to what you see today. I went from one small room to fifteen dance studios, a full kitchen, and community rooms to serve the public. We have after-school programs and classes supporting children, their parents and we recently added seniors activities.”
“This is amazing.”
“I have to pinch myself every day. I always wanted something like this, and now it’s mine.” They entered a cafeteria. “It’s dinner time.”
Brione glanced at the room across the hall. She walked over and her fingers traced, Andrew “Marques” Carter.
“This dance studio is dedicated to him, thanks to his donation. You should ste
p inside. He had it decked out.”
Brione stepped inside followed by Imani. “He had the standard dance floor, mirrors, and music system installed. But the prince added stage lights, microphone stands, and camera equipment.” She pointed at the 360 cameras anchored in the four corners of the room.
“Why did he add cameras?” Brione walked over to get a better look.
“It allows him to record the entire show. See watch this.” She walked over to the media center in the back and unlocked a cabinet. Inside was a computer and a switchboard, she flicked a switch, and a white projector screen rolled down on the other end of the room. Imani pressed play. Music flooded the room, Marques and the student dancers filled the wide screen. Brione had seen the number before but not from this angle. The kids were keeping up with him too.
“I bet the kids love this.”
“They do, which is why I have to keep it locked up.” She chuckled locking the equipment away as they left the room. “Each room was dedicated to members of RSE. They contributed over ten million dollars, and they are our greatest contributors in time and money.”
“I’d love to help. I’m a local student. Do you need tutors?”
“Always. What school do you attend?”
“Thurgood Marshall School of Law.”
“Ahhh a lawyer.”
“That was the plan.”
“Was?” She placed a hand on her lower back.
“Want to sit?” Brione asked.
“Yes, please. This baby is giving me a run for my money. My office is over here.” They entered and sat on a royal blue couch. Imani sat and propped her legs on an ottoman.
“I went to law school, but I think I want to take some time off after graduation.”
“What will you do?” She sat back apparently relieved to be off her feet.
“I haven’t got that far. I loved working with Marques on the tour. It was a nice mix of intellect and creativity. And traveling was nice too. When are you due?”
“Three months. I can’t imagine three more months. I feel like I’m about to bust.”
Brione laughed. She remembered her pregnancy with Kayla. For years she wondered if she’d ever experience it again. She spent her entire pregnancy trying to protect her father’s image, and she didn’t embrace the miracle of growing a life inside her body.
“Do you know what you’re having?”
“No, we want it to be a surprise.”
“Knock, knock.” Damian entered and sat on the ottoman taking hold of Imani’s feet. “Ready my queen?”
Marques pulled Brione to her feet. “We need to get going too.”
“I thought we were volunteering?” She didn’t want to return to her condo.
“No, we have other plans.” Marques hugged Imani and kissed her cheek. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
“What’s tomorrow?” They were back in the car.
“We are meeting with Damian and an attorney.”
She froze. “I asked you let me handle it.”
“And I did. Are you any closer today than you were two weeks ago?”
“No.” She turned away; she wasn’t. Her parents refused to stand against the Bradleys. But she was at least talking with them regularly. Her communication with Kayla was only by phone after Stewart fought her after the pictures surfaced. It left her no closer to getting the resolution she sought. She might as well return to Atlanta with Marques and come back after the album release.
They stopped in front of a house. Brione glanced around. “Where are we?”
“River Oaks.”
“This is your house.”
He nodded. The next thing she knew they were inside. “What do you need with all of this house?”
He shrugged, mischief in his eyes. “Damian got me a good deal.”
He walked her around the house. It was bare. “I closed before the tour. I’ve only furnished the areas I live in.”
“Such the bachelor.” She smiled turning in a little circle in the foyer staring up at the crystal chandelier.
“Not anymore.” Her eyes met his, stepping forward he reached for the hem of her shirt. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes Marques, I trust you.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The next morning they walked into a conference room in a downtown office building. Hand in hand they crossed the lobby and Brione admired her man in his suit and tie.
“You’re looking good in that suit and tie.” She smiled suppressing her nervous energy. She loved him in jeans, a tie, or nothing at all. The nothing at all topped her list. He squeezed her hand and pulled her chair closer to his.
“We’re meeting with a few people today,” he whispered low over his shoulder as they sat facing the door. “I want to help you get all the facts you need to—”
“Mr. Carter.” An older man in a crisp blue suit and stern face entered the room. “I haven’t seen you since I had to run you off from my teenage daughters.” His laughter rumbled as he rounded the table grabbing Marques in a bear hug.
“Mr. Williams you can’t say stuff like that in front of my lady.” Brione relaxed watching the banter between the two men who obviously had a rich history.
“My bad. Sterling Williams.” He extended a hand and Brione accepted.
“Brione Allen.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Allen. Have a seat, and we’ll see how I can help get this matter behind you.”
Brione smiled over at Marques who winked; she felt a shift in the room as they followed Mr. Williams back to the table. For the next two hours, he laid out her rights to dispute the custody arrangement. Her law school experience helped, but family law was unfamiliar to her. But judging by the Mr. Williams’ preparation, she was in very capable hands.
“How do you advise that I proceed from here? I’m supposed to have her this week.”
“You’re at a disadvantage since you never went to court to establish your visitation rights. However, in your favor, we can look to standard joint parental agreements. At a minimum, the noncustodial parent is typically entitled to two weeks in the summer due to her primary residence being in Travis County and yours in Harris County. I can draft a letter for you on official letterhead to take with you. It’s not binding, but it will show him we mean business.”
“And I can go and get her?” Her excitement rose.
“It’s not official, but most people won’t fight it. They’ll see you’ve retained legal counsel. We’re dealing with someone who is versed in the law, and he’ll have access to an attorney of his own. But I don’t foresee them putting up a fight since you don’t have a history of being an unfit parent.”
Hope flooded her veins, Marques squeezed her hand under the table, and it took everything in her not to run out the building and drive to Austin now.
“What is the deposit required to retain you as my attorney?” Brione leaned forward; she had her payment from RSE and her savings. Everything about this office and Mr. Williams told her he was one of the best, the plush downtown office, the accolades on the wall, told her so. She’d also learned a lot about Marques, he expected and worked with the best. The best was expensive.
“We’ve already settled the matter," Marques stated.
“What? I can—”
“Miss Allen,” he held up a hand, “we look after our own. And I’ll gladly do what I can. Now let me get the letter drafted.” Mr. Williams stood.
“How much time do you need? We need to meet with Damian too.”
“Give me a couple of hours. You all are welcome to use this conference room. Or I can have the letter couriered to you later. It’s up to you.”
Marques looked over at her. Brione’s mind was running a marathon with not a single coherent thought beyond the feeling of being one step closer to having Kayla. Marques seemed to notice.
“Let me call Damian, and I’ll give you our decision in a few minutes.”
“Take your time.” Mr. Williams turned to Brione, “I look forward to helping although
I doubt you need more than the letter. We’ll gladly represent you until you reach a satisfied conclusion.”
Brione stood ignoring his hand this time and hugged him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Make your calls. I’ll come back in a few minutes.” He patted Marques on the shoulder then disappeared.
“Are you okay?” Marques gathered her in his arms.
“More than okay,” she mumbled. “I’m assuming he’s part of the tribe.”
Marques laughed. “You got it. He’s a family friend. Let me call Damian.”
She nodded taking her seat. This time tomorrow she could find herself in Austin picking up Kayla. She reached into her purse and made a call of her own. It was time to talk with her parents.
Damian decided to meet them at Brione’s place to give her time to pack for her trip to Austin. Marques sat on the bed glad to see the smile on her face.
“How are you feeling princess?”
“Overwhelmed. I can’t believe this is all happening.” She finished folding a shirt, placed it in the black bag on the bed. Then she sat beside him. “How are you?”
“Me?” He reached for her hands.
“Yes, we haven’t talked about what this means for us. We went from having fun on the road to this. I’ll understand if my baggage is too heavy.” Her eyes dropped to their hands.
He placed a finger under her chin. “I can’t lie. I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. This was more than I expected. But in the same regard, I know you are who I want. Do you think she’ll like me?”
The thought of her daughter not adjusting to him was a fact he had to consider. Brione wouldn’t be the cute law student helping him on the road but a mother with a child. A relationship with her meant he would have to accept her daughter too.