Encore (Stereo Hearts Book 2) (23 page)

Once again, assuming he meant ‘beau,’ the woman behind Carmen reached in to shake her shoulder excitedly. Even as Carmen kept that sweet smile plastered on her face for the camera that cut to her again, her eyes definitely weren’t smiling, but filled with fury. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her smiling lips went tight.

Yoshi continued, his voice shaking with emotion. “Bo, I write for you. I sing for you. This album belongs to you more than it will ever belong to me. I love you more than anything.” Yoshi winked at Aria before lifting his eyes back to the smiling crowd. He held the Grammy high. “Thank you so much!”

--

“I write for you.”

“I sing for you.”

“This album belongs to you more than it will ever belong to me.”

Carmen’s teeth tightened. They shifted. They ground until she was sure they’d shred like parmesan cheese. Yoshi’s arm was snaked around her waist, but his fingers didn’t finish the job, lying like a dead fish. As she worked overtime to keep the smile plastered to her face, it took every ounce of will she had not to tighten his fingers around her, to get his hand on her properly. She knew it would be a lost cause.

The official Grammy after-party boasted five thousand guests, and the Los Angeles Convention center was filled to the gills with the who’s who of Hollywood. The colorful carnival theme was heart-poundingly vibrant. It reminded Carmen of her favorite stop on Yoshi’s tour, Rio de Janeiro. The guests, most of them already inebriated, danced the night away to a flurry of hits from the winners and runners-up from the night’s event.

Instead of enjoying her beautiful surroundings, her teeth gnawed harder.

Did he have any idea how many hours she’d spent in the makeup chair in preparation for this evening? How many days she’d gone without eating to squeeze her body into that skintight yellow canary gown? Did he have
any idea
how difficult it was for a woman to pull off this color?

Clearly, he didn’t, because as he pulled her through the bustling party, from one celebrity to the next, one executive to the next, with that limp hand around her waist, he struggled to keep his eyes off that wonky-eyed, dark-skinned girl across the room. Even as he accepted never-ending streams of congratulations from some of the most important people in the industry, with the baddest bitch on his arm, he couldn’t move his eyes from her.

Her.

Carmen felt her blood boiling when he began staring so obsessively that even
she
couldn’t tear her eyes away from Aria.

From his Bo.

Not his beau.

But his
Bo
.

If one more person gushed to her about how lucky she’d been to be on the receiving end of that Grammy dedication, how it was so clear how much he loved her, how it had been shooting out of his eyes like fireworks from the top of the stage, she was going to scream.

Literally
scream
.

She blinked back to the present when Simon appeared before them, his eyes wide like saucers.

“Yoshi, I need you. Now. The NFL’s Director of Entertainment just walked in… and he’s looking for
you.”

For the first time that night, Yoshi’s fingers tightened around her waist. He choked out a response, every word slow and astonished. “The NFL’s…”

“Director of Entertainment,” Simon finished in rapid fire. “Let’s go. Now. Carmen…” His wide eyes hit hers. “Stay here. We’ll be back shortly.”

Carmen went to object, but Simon inserted himself between her and Yoshi, breaking their hold before she could say another word. She watched them go with her mouth open.

The Director of Entertainment for the NFL could only want to speak to Yoshi for one thing.

Instead of feeling proud of him, excited for him, celebratory for him, all she could hear were his words from earlier that night.

“I write for you.”

“I sing for you.”

“This album belongs to you…”

Her skin went clammy. Her heart gave one ferocious pound against her ribcage and then plummeted to her feet. She couldn’t breathe. After looking across the booming party and catching sight of Aria’s smiling face, Carmen was soon moving through the crowd, unapologetic as she elbowed her way across the room, forcing herself between dancing and conversing couples until she stood before Aria and Kimmy, who Carmen knew as Phillip Gold’s wife.

They were leaning against the bar in the far corner of the room, facing the crowd, engrossed in conversation.

Kimmy was the first to notice Carmen, standing tall and lowering the cocktail she had in her hand. Her brown eyes widened, prompting Aria to look at Carmen as well, wondering what had caught Kimmy’s attention.

“Carmen.” Aria smiled.

Her smile was sweet and genuine. Warm. Not the least bit threatened or irritated, even though Carmen had been hanging from her boyfriend’s arm all night.

Carmen’s heart leapt up from where it had been dragging behind her on the floor, reinserting itself into her ribcage just so it could give her another solid jab. One more ferocious pound. It smashed against her chest and then fell to the floor again.

She gasped in a breath.

“Is everything okay?” Aria asked.

“Just wanted to come say hello,” Carmen managed to get out, swallowing back the lump in her throat. “And to congratulate you on the album.”

Kimmy frowned at Carmen, confused. In the next instant, a party-goer approached her and whispered something in her ear. Kimmy promised Aria she would be right back before allowing herself to be dragged away.

Aria watched her go.

Carmen came up next to her, taking Kimmy’s place.

“Why would you congratulate me? That album is all his,” Aria said, responding to Carmen’s earlier statement.

“Well, he did dedicate it to you.”

“No matter what he says, I had nothing to do with it. He doesn’t give himself enough credit. I didn’t write the beautiful songs or produce the perfect album. I just show up and sing the background harmonies.”

“I hope your voice is doing better,” Carmen said. “Word’s been getting around the tour that you’ve been having problems?”

For the first time, the smile on Aria’s face wavered, and Carmen felt her heart piecing itself back together.

Aria cleared her throat. “We’re looking into it. Yoshi’s already set up an appointment with the best doctor in the city. He specializes in voice disorders.”

“I guess that’s one of the perks of being the girlfriend of the talent. Any other background vocalist would’ve been thrown out on their ass by now. But not you.”

Aria shot her a look.

Carmen pretended not to see it, nodding across the party where Yoshi was shaking hands with a middle-aged man. He had shock-white hair and was dressed to the nines. Yoshi said something that prompted the man to throw his head back with laughter.

“That guy who’s hand Yoshi just shook? He works for the NFL.”

Aria followed Carmen’s eyes.

“Director of Entertainment. He heads the panel that chooses the performers of the Super Bowl’s halftime show.”

“Oh, my God.” Aria’s eyes were shining with pride.

“If Yoshi lands it, he’ll be the first artist in
history
to be invited to the Super Bowl off one album alone.” Her voice lowered. “This is why I always tell you what a great girlfriend you are. So selfless. So understanding. You
understand
that this kind of history can’t be made for a man with a black girl on his arm.”

Carmen saw the moment the air left Aria’s lungs. From the corner of her eye, she saw her chest rise.

“I mean, not a black girl of your skin tone, anyway. Me…” She stretched out her arm and twirled it. “I’m fine. Hell, if you took a photo of my hand next to a white woman’s, you’d never guess I had a drop of black in me. But you….”

Carmen snuck a look at Aria’s tightened jaw, her chest—which had come to a rapid stop—and her fingers, clenched around her cocktail glass so tightly it looked in danger of shattering.

“So very understanding,” Carmen nudged her, which made Aria blink back to the present.

Aria’s eyelids fluttered against the moisture accumulating in her eyes, which were still riveted to Yoshi, who laughed with the NFL Director across the room.

Carmen lowered her voice. “God, if it were me, and it were
my
boyfriend who was hiding me away in the shadows, taking me to secluded islands in the Maldives where no one would recognize me, wrapping some lime-green band around my ring finger under the guise of sentimentality, all the while telling me how much he loves me…” She scoffed. “I would go batshit crazy.”

Aria blinked out the first tear, licking her lips softly. “Why are you doing this?”

Carmen gasped, reaching out and covering her arm. “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I’ve…” She turned towards the bar and set her drink down. “I’ve upset you. I thought you knew what this was all about.”

For the first time, Aria looked at her, another tear racing down her cheek.

Carmen tilted her head. “Oh, gosh… He never told you.” She covered her heart with her hand, looking towards Yoshi with eyes of disbelief. “He never told you the real reason….”

Aria swept her arm away and pushed off the bar before Carmen could finish.

The sorrow vanished from Carmen’s face as Aria raced away.

She leaned back with her elbows on the bar, watching her go, and a slow smile crept to her lips.

16

Aria slammed her eyes closed when she heard the car pulling up in the driveway in the middle of the night. Another tear escaped her sopping wet lashes the moment she did. In the last few hours, she hadn’t been able to close her eyes, or even blink, without another stream of moisture rolling down her cheeks. She leaned forward on the pool chair, still in her gold dress, glaring out at the Hollywood sign. It seemed close enough to touch, perched on the hills above the mansions across the street. Beside it, breathtaking homes lined the famous Hollywood Hills, down a valley that seemed to go on forever, tracing a path of greenery that eventually melted into the city, all the way to the gritty Los Angeles skyline.

She’d always been a New York girl. Even though this house was the most beautiful she’d lived in, she’d never quite warmed to it, and that was never more true than it was right then.

She’d never had the chance to enjoy the infinity pool trickling before her, or hike up the steep hill that this grand home sat on, like she’d always said she wanted to. She always assumed she’d have all the time in the world.

“Aria.”

His soft voice floated in behind her, from the doors of the balcony. It broke as it often did, the same way it had during his performance at the Grammys earlier that night. It took her heart in a vise, as it often did. But that time, the vise squeezed too tight, making it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to
see
as it sent the tears multiplying and nearly blinded her.

His voice was closer this time. “Baby, why did you leave?
You’ll never believe what happened….”

His shiny dress shoes came to a stop next to the pool chair, and she drank them in with her lowered eyes. Her clasped hands tightened as she lifted her gaze to his.

“Jesus, Bo. What’s wrong?”

She stood from the chair when he reached for her arm, tripping over the train of her dress as she stumbled back.

“Is it true?” she asked, only after she’d put the pool chair between them.

He looked ravishing in his tuxedo. His hair had come undone sometime during the after-party, a wisp of it falling into his horror-filled eyes. His already-dilated pupils expanded even more. He swept his fingers under his nose, sniffling roughly. Shuffling from one foot to the next, his eyes wouldn’t stay still. His hands moved in and out of his pockets.

She squinted at him, pointing down at the pool floor. “Is it
true?”

“Aria, is what true? You’re scaring me to death, baby. What happened? Why are you crying?”

“You told me you had to keep me in the background because Carmen’s name would help you garner more fans starting out.” Her voice trembled. “You told me it had to be her, because her breakup with that soccer player would bring you more publicity. Get people saying your name. Just like fucking Adam over the way you did would get people saying your name. You told me it was a publicity play.”

Yoshi blinked rapidly. “Baby, it
is
a publicity play. How many times do I have to say it? It’s fake. All of this shit is fake.” He yanked on the flaps of his jacket. “This outfit, this house, this city—these people!” He pointed to the hills. “None of it is real, and I know that. The only thing real in my world is you—”

“Did you keep me in the shadows because I’m black?” she wheezed, squinting when a new flurry of tears burned her eyes. She felt them growing just as red as his were right then, though his were red for an entirely different reason. “Because I’m dark-skinned? Because my eyes are weird-looking?” Every question she asked sent her voice hitching a little higher.

The color drained from his face. He shook his head rapidly and went to speak, but no words came. He licked his lips after his first failed attempt.

She assumed he was trying to wash away the lie. “Answer me.”

Yoshi held his hands out and tried to step towards her. When she stepped away, he froze.

“Aria,” he said, attempting to keep his voice calm, but it wobbled regardless. “I was trying to protect you.”

“Oh, God,” she gasped, taking those words as unspoken confirmation.

“All I care about is protecting you. I don’t keep things from you because I’m
lying
; I keep things from you because I don’t ever want to see that light inside you extinguished the way it has been for every soul in this town. Every soul at that party tonight. Every soul in that arena tonight. I want you safe. Not just physically, but mentally too. Emotionally….”

“I already knew. Deep down, I knew it, but I didn’t want to believe it. You hid me because I’m black,” she said, nodding. “Say it.”

Yoshi faltered.

“Say the words,” Aria demanded.

He opened his mouth, but again, nothing came.

“You can’t even speak it out loud. But that’s the truth. You’re always talking about what’s real.
That
is what’s real. Simon Brady told you he couldn’t make you a star unless you betrayed Adam. He told you he couldn’t make you a star with a black girl on your arm. He told you a biracial girl would help you sell more records, and you knew it was wrong. You knew it would hurt people. People who love you. People who
loved
you. But you still signed. You took the deal. You shook his hand.”

Yoshi’s mouth clapped closed. He straightened, the vulnerability in his eyes washed away. He swayed, but held a calm hand out as if he were fully in control. “I’ve never made you a promise that I didn’t keep.”

Aria gave a whispered laugh.

Yoshi pointed behind him. “I’ve bought you a beautiful home. I’ve taken you all over the world. You’ve never wanted for anything. You’re wearing the best clothes. The best jewelry gleams on your wrist, around your neck, in each of your ears. I just won a Grammy
,
Aria—
nine
Grammys—and dedicated every last one of them to you! Jesus Christ, what the
fuck
do you want from me? I was trying to protect you!”

She slapped the tears off her cheeks, jolting at his sudden change in tone. It wasn’t the first time his mood had shot up. Lately, it went up and down like a roller coaster. Quite often, in fact—sometimes in the blink of an eye.

“You’ve changed, Yosh.”

His eyes widened.

She motioned to him. “Even the way you
talk
is different. I can’t even talk to you about this in a real way, because you’re high as a kite right now.”

Yoshi sniffled and swiped his hand under his nose again, breaking their eye contact. He gave the hills his glassy eyes, avoiding hers.

“First, it was the pills to help you close your eyes at night. Then the pills to help you keep them open during the day. Then, when those stopped working—”

Yoshi jumped in. “I’m not addicted. I’m stressed out of my mind. So stressed it makes me feel like my head is spinning off its axis
.
The pills keep me steady. Focused. But I don’t need them. I can stop anytime I want to, and as soon as the tour is over, I will.”

“And the coke? I’m sure you’ll stop that too, once the tour is over. Because it’s just that easy, right? You’ll just
stop.”

“Bo, it’s just coke. Everyone in this town does it, and it hasn’t gone up in flames yet, has it? It keeps me going, show after show. A lot of people pay good money to see me at my best, and it helps keep me there, but
yes
… I can stop anytime.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “Wow. Adam called it. He really called it….”

Yoshi shot her a look. “Don’t.”

“He was right. He was right on all of it. And you know what the worst part is?” she whispered. “He was at your release party.”

Yoshi’s face sobered.

She nodded. “Yeah. He was there, because he wanted to see you winning. Even after you made moves that had him losing, scrambling to pick up the shattered pieces and putting them back together. He wasn’t even angry. Do you know what he told me? He told me to take care of you. He told me to take
care
of you, Yoshi.”

“Like I said before, he’s jealous,” Yoshi spat. “He’s jealous that I’m ten times the artist that he’ll ever be. That I’ve accomplished things he never will. That I’ve accomplished in a
year
what he’ll never accomplish in his
lifetime
. He’s always known I was destined for more, but he was happy to keep me behind that drum set for the rest of my life if it meant I wasn’t stealing his shine.”

“God, who are you?” she wheezed. “Who
are
you?”

“I’m the man who took you with me, instead of leaving you in that foster home to rot. I’m the man who took you with me when I left the Keys, instead of leaving you to stew in mediocrity. I’m the man who bought you this house, bought you a car, bought you designer clothes, gave you a job on my tour when Simon would’ve been happy to leave you in the dust. I’m the man who took you along on my rise when everyone told me I shouldn’t. The man who gets pussy thrown at him from every angle, but has never
once
stepped out on you!”

“Do you want a Grammy for being faithful too?” she seethed.

“Do you have any idea how many propositions I get every day? Do you have any idea how easy it would be for me to cheat on you, if I chose? Do you have any idea how—” He stopped himself.

“How what?” she asked, before answering herself. “How lucky I am to have you?”

He cut his eyes at her.

“How lucky I am to have these earrings?” She reached up and tore the diamond studs out of her ears, tossing them away. She didn’t watch them fly, but heard them splash into the pool. “This necklace?” She removed it with trembling fingers, launching it at him.

Yoshi avoided it, letting it clatter to the ground.

“Bo…” His voice lowered.

“This bracelet?” She didn’t even bother unclasping it, instead ripping it clear off her wrist, making the diamonds break away and fly off at all angles, dropping it to the ground. “This dress?” She snatched the straps of the dress off her shoulders and pushed it down her body. She stepped out of it, crying out, “These shoes?” She kicked them off. One of them went flying into the water, the other towards Yoshi, narrowly missing his head as it soared through the air.

Her tear-filled eyes searched his astonished face as the cold air bit at her exposed nipples. Dipping her fingers into the waistband of her underwear, she pushed those down too.

“Baby,” Yoshi begged.

Once they were off and she was completely naked, she snatched the underwear up and balled them in a fist. “Who the fuck needs Dior underwear, Yoshi? Is this what it takes? Are Dior panties what it takes to keep your black girlfriend quiet while Simon Brady is pulling your strings? Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life? Is this what makes me so fucking lucky to have you?” She swept her palm over her lips, removing the red lipstick, leaving some of it streaked across her cheek.

Yoshi ran a hand through his hair, blinking rapidly. “I can’t do this right now. I’m not doing this. I have to meet with this NFL guy for drinks in an hour. I just came here to fucking celebrate that I have a
meeting with an NFL guy in an hour
, and I come home to this shit?”

Aria held her arms out. “Your meeting with some NFL guy doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. This house, the clothes, the jewelry—none of it means shit to me. Look at me, Yoshi!”

He lifted his brows. “You’re being ridiculous. You know, I fought for you.” He held her eyes. “I fought for you when everyone warned me that you would hold me back. That you’d never understand this life. That you’d only drag me down with you.”

“And I fought for you when everyone warned me to count my blessings now, to stack my coins now, because it was only a matter of time before you did an about-face and fucked me over just like you did Adam.”

He bared his teeth. A moment later, he swallowed thickly, pushing his fingers through his hair before making his way towards the doors. “Hopefully by the time I get back, you’ll have sobered up and can speak to me like a civilized human being.”

“You’re really talking to
me
about being sober?” When he kept walking, her voice rose. “Yoshi!”

He stopped at the doors of the balcony. He lingered with his hand on the handle, and when he turned back to her, the tears had dried from both their faces.

“If you walk out that door…” She paused, licking her lips. “I won’t be here when you come back.”

Pain flashed across his face, the door handle wobbling under his fierce hold. He hesitated.

Then he opened the door and disappeared inside the house.

Aria watched him go, and the tears were back. It wasn’t until she heard his car roaring to a start in the driveway that she let the first sob leave her lips, bending at the hip when the pain became unbearable.

--

“Yoshi, your attention to detail—not just in the studio, but when you’re performing and perfecting your craft—is really remarkable. It’s something I don’t encounter often, something we haven’t seen… since Michael. There are artists who’ve been doing this for
twice
as long as you have who could only dream of reaching your level of exactness. You’re on the short list to be the headlining act for the Super Bowl next year, but I’ve got to be honest. I’m a huge fan, and if this meeting goes well… Well…” Dexter Hawthorne, the NFL’s Director of Entertainment, didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t need to.