Love Like Crazy Read online

  “No. No more games. I tried holding out to get more money. I tried a lot of things.” She glared at Laz. “I’ll do what I agreed to in my contract. I’m sorry.” She turned to her attorney. “I don’t think you’re a bitch.”

  Her lawyer must not have believed her. She collected her belongings and walked out before Kat.

  Kat started to leave. When she got behind Laz, she grumbled, “Asshole.”

  “Hope you’re feeling better, Kat.” Laz slipped his phone back into his pocket.

  When Kat’s team vacated the conference room, Laz finally smiled, a first since hearing of Kat’s accusations a couple of days go. He turned to the staff attorney, expecting him to share in Laz’s delight. He looked more pissed than Kat.

  The attorney shook his head. “Should have kept your mouth closed.”

  Zinner addressed the attorney. “Prepare the gag order.” Then he glared at Laz.

  “Done.” The attorney picked up his tablet and left Laz there with Zinner.

  When the attorney closed the door behind himself, Laz faced his boss. Surely this man would have his back.

  Wanting to get Zinner’s opinion on the situation sooner rather than later, Laz spoke first. “I didn’t do what she accused me of doing. I never touched her.”

  Zinner snickered. “You idiot.” He shook his head. “Do you really think you’re the first person in the music biz accused of sexual misconduct with the talent? Hell, you’re not even the first person Kat has been with on this staff. This is not unusual, and you’re not special.”

  At that moment, Laz didn’t even feel heard.

  “I knew what she was trying to do.” Zinner swung himself back and forth in his chair.

  Laz nodded. “Yeah, take down my career.”

  Zinner held up his hand. “Bigger picture, kid. She wanted more money. It’s always about money. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  “And you were willing to pay her more money for a delayed album and tour?”

  Zinner slammed his hand on the table. “Ten million is nothing compared to the revenue we could have generated from her. She is a pop music money machine. The pre-sales for the album she has yet to go to the studio for has already sold a quarter-of-a-million copies. Her tour would have paid us even more, on top of lucrative endorsements for the sweet-as-pie, goody-goody act she puts on so well. We could have gotten her to sign an additional contract with us…until today.” He snickered. “Thanks to you, more than likely she’ll fulfill her obligations to this contract and then move on to another company or, worse yet, pull a Shauna and put out music on her own.”

  Laz shook his head. “Paying her for a lie meant that my reputation would have been tarnished, and I would have been out of a job. She wanted me fired.”

  Zinner didn’t blink, didn’t react.

  Laz was not special.

  “I could have talked her out of seeing you let go. I would have made sure to keep her away from you, which, by the way, why did you even approach her? You’re A&R. I just need for you to acquire talent. We have people on staff to talk about contract obligations. Those people are managers and attorneys, not you.” When Zinner pointed at Laz, it looked like he wanted his finger to be a gun and he yearned blowing Laz’s head clean off his shoulders.

  “I told you I wanted to do more here. I’ve been here long enough to go into management. I’ve heard music from unsigned artists who would be perfect for Universe, like this one named Destiny Starr. I don’t know who she is, but if I find her, I would love to sign her and represent her.” Laz sat up taller. “I can be used more.”

  “You could have.” Zinner stood. “Not anymore. Pack your shit and go.” He pointed to the door.

  Laz stood with him. He hoped his towering height would give him a little bit of an intimidation factor. “What the hell? You saw with your own eyes that Kat lied. I never dragged her into a room and asked her for oral sex. She jumped on me. Why am I getting let go if she was the one in the wrong?”

  The automatic blinds in the room started to lower on their own, casting a shadow on the scene.

  “You’re poison to us now. The threat that you may release that video will keep Kat from saying anything publicly, but privately, with other up-and-coming talent, our business will be mud, including this unknown talent you have a hard-on for.”

  Instinctively, Laz clasped his hands in front of his body to cover his genital region. If Zinner heard this woman’s voice, he would want her, too.

  “They’ll associate Universe with perverts and creeps, whether it’s true or not.” Zinner strolled toward the door.

  “Then I’ll sue her. I’ve worked too hard to be—”

  Zinner put his hand on Laz’s shoulder. “It’s over.” Then he blinked. “Unless…”

  Laz peered down at Zinner’s hand before redirecting his attention back to him. “Unless what?”

  “I can have you doing another position. You remember Mable?”

  This time Laz blinked. “The older lady in H.R.?”

  Zinner nodded. “She’s retiring. Or she died recently. I can’t remember. Anyway, she used to be over the interns. You could do that. You could wrangle the intern pool here, which will keep you away from the talent.”

  Laz took a few steps back, which broke the hold Zinner had on him. “With my education, experience, and years of service here, you want to bump me down to a babysitter?”

  Zinner exhaled like he needed to, not out of exasperation. “You’ll still work for the company.”

  Laz shook his head. He didn’t do this business to have his name associated with a company. He had something to say, something to prove.

  “I’ll be gone in five minutes.” He stormed to the door.

  “Not until you sign that gag order preventing you from talking about the whole thing with Kat. One word about it to anyone and you’ll be sued for every dime you have and every dime you’ll ever earn.”

  “Believe me. I don’t want to talk about this bullshit situation.” He continued to the door.

  “You won’t make it out there,” Zinner called after Laz, but Laz kept moving.

  From this point on, he would have to do what he could to make his own way.

  * * * *

  Avery Shields leaned on the mop handle she’d just used on the women’s bathroom floor as she peered down to read her statistics book. She needed more hours in the day to get it all done.

  “Avery, you done in the bathroom?”

  She heard her father’s voice, but she had a few more pages to review first. She glanced at her watch and cursed. In a few more hours, she would have her first of many exams. Life wouldn’t be life if it didn’t include tests.

  The door to the women’s bathroom creaked open.

  “Did you hear me, gal?” Her father came up behind her and tapped her shoulder.

  “Yeah.” Avery didn’t have to look at Clinton Shields to know he disapproved of how she responded. “I mean, yes, sir.” She broke away from her book to give him her full attention. “The toilets are cleaned. The mirrors are all shiny. I just mopped. I’m good in here.”

  As though not believing her, Clinton scanned the room that had a row of about seven stalls and then about five more stalls around the corner. He dropped his gaze to the floor first before proceeding to inspect the rest of the place.

  In the meantime, in the quiet, Avery continued reading until she heard that disappointed groan she had heard from her parents before. Each time, it gave her an uncomfortable tickle up her spine to the back of her head.

  She heard the sounds of plastic crinkling before she saw her father coming around the corner with a full bag of garbage in his hand.

  “All of the garbage receptacles. You have to empty them all.” He shook his head as he walked by her. “I swear sometimes you don’t think.”

  “I was going to get it.” She win
ced at the lie with good reason.

  Clinton didn’t make it out of the door. He returned to her and cocked his head. “So you thought it would make more sense to mop the floor before emptying out the trash cans?”

  “When you put it that way, I guess it doesn’t hold any logic.” She shrugged.

  “My name is on this cleaning business.”

  When Clinton started on his rant, it could wear on a person’s nerves. Avery wouldn’t dare roll her eyes or cut him off from speaking his mind.

  “I know, Dad.” She understood the sacrifices her parents had made for the family.

  Clinton had driven taxis, cleaned office buildings, and even had his own pressure-washing business at one time. Avery’s mother usually worked alongside him until she started taking classes to become a nurse.

  Avery really had no reason to complain. She had a job, too many jobs, actually. Her father didn’t have to hire her, but he did. That didn’t mean she didn’t see more for herself like her mother. Her dream, though, didn’t involve another high-level profession like nursing.

  Clinton’s gaze dropped down to her opened book. “The sooner we get this place cleaned, the faster you can get home to finish studying.”

  “Yes, sir.” She slammed the book closed and slipped it into a side pocket that Avery had made to hang from the rolling cleaning cart that housed all her supplies.

  Her father carried the same warm honey skin tone color, but on long days like today, he looked ashen and tired. His gray coveralls stretched tight over his rounded belly. The scowl that masked his expression spoke volumes. He, nor Avery’s mother, could easily hide their expressions.

  Avery bent down to roll the cuffs on her oversized coveralls to keep from tripping on them while she walked.

  “You get that end and I’ll get this end, and I think that’ll be it.” Clinton nodded to the area behind Avery.

  “Yes, sir.” She watched him walk away before she pushed her cart to the end of the top floor where she knew magic had to happen.

  Avery scanned her identification badge over a reader to open the door first. As soon as she stepped inside, her shoulders relaxed. The place already smelled like flowers and fragrant candle wax. She loved stepping inside Charisma Music’s studio.

  She got the studio on a good night. The section sat empty, which lately had been a rare occurrence. On the nights when artists filled the studio space, Avery tried keeping away from the area. She didn’t do it out of embarrassment because of her job. She worked and worked hard. However, she didn’t like seeing others going for a dream that had been hers at one time.

  Avery left her cart in the center of the room so that she could start her work. No use lamenting about what could have been. She dusted the surfaces. When she got to the control boards, she dragged her fingers over the knobs and buttons.

  “Maybe.” She snickered. “Probably not.”

  After dusting, she adjusted her headscarf over her hair, styled with two-stranded twists all over. Then she tackled the thick glass panes that surrounded the recording booths. She let her hand rest on the glass rumored to have been smashed with a chair by country singer Laura Smalls. Strange what people will do for love, or even lust.

  To make sure she didn’t leave any handprints, she examined the glass thoroughly. She didn’t need her father catching her slacking on her duties again.

  When she got by the piano that sat to the side, Avery hung around it longer than she should have. Like the control board, she danced her fingers over the keys, allowing one to dip down on one key so that the sound reverberated throughout the compact space. When the sound came, so did the involuntary hum that rattled her chest.

  Avery peered up to make sure her father didn’t pop up all of a sudden. When she didn’t see or hear him, she took a seat at the piano bench. She took a breath before tickling her fingers over the keys. She tried doing it ever so lightly, but then she got into playing a Stevie Wonder song and found herself getting into it more and more.

  She smiled and her body didn’t feel like her own. It felt both relaxed and on autopilot as she played the melody first. Before she knew it, Avery had started singing.

  She closed her eyes and imagined her life recording music in a studio like this and with people like Chantel and Truman Woodley. If Chantel could make it out of her humble beginnings to be a major power player in the business, Avery held out hope that maybe one day after finishing her business degree and getting a job her parents would be proud of, she could really pursue her dream. She could finally be Destiny Starr. If she did that, would they still be proud of her?

  When the thought hit her, she stopped playing. She hovered her hands over the piano keys. What was Avery doing besides torturing herself? This life could never be hers. She had made up a fake name to go with her fantasy life.

  Avery stood from the piano and returned it to the condition she had found it. She vacuumed the carpet and made sure to empty out all the trash bins around the recording studio area. With that done, Avery started to push her cart out to meet with her father. Getting done by two a.m. seemed like a gift. She would have some time to go home, study a bit more, go to work at the diner, and still get to class on time.

  Thinking about her schedule had her sighing. She shouldn’t complain. At twenty-two, she had time and energy to burn to go without sleep and work hard.

  Right when Avery opened the main door to go back out into the hallway, her father met her face-to-face, which startled her. She had hoped with the soundproof walls that he hadn’t heard her playing only moments ago.

  “All done in here.” She smiled to ease his concern and keep the conversation going in a different direction. “I would say you don’t have to check behind me, but I know you.” Avery laughed.

  “I should have had you do the business offices and I should have taken care of this area.”

  Busted.

  The relaxed feeling Avery had felt earlier behind the piano disappeared. She felt her shoulders tense up around her ears. She balled her hands into fists. When she realized the position of her hands, she shoved them in her pockets.

  “I didn’t—” She had almost said she didn’t touch anything, but she couldn’t lie to her father…again. “I didn’t break anything. Everything in there is fine.”

  Clinton nodded toward the bank of elevators. “I’ll check your work. Go put your cart away and wait for me downstairs.”

  “Dad, do you want me to—”

  He pointed. “Go.”

  With a single word, her father reduced her to a trembling child again.

  On the elevator ride down, Avery thought about the situation. Sure, she had made mistakes as a teenager. Who hadn’t? Since her breakup with Kenan, she had done everything she could to get in her parents’ good graces with one exception. She moved out and got her own apartment, despite her parents wanting her to stay while she pursued her degree.

  Avery realized years ago that she needed to take some responsibility in her life. She no longer needed to feel shame for her past mistakes. She worked hard. She earned her own money and paid her own bills. She hadn’t had a serious relationship in six years. She needed to be cut some slack.

  She secured her cart in the storage closet on the lower level. Avery removed her coveralls and hung them on the crook of her arm to take home and wash. She tried making the garment smell like something other than bleach and ammonia.

  Avery had her arguments ready in her head by the time she heard the elevator doors ding and she saw her father coming out of the darkened location. The sounds of the wheels going over the tile floors echoed off the walls until he got to Avery at the closet.

  She took a deep breath before she prepared to tell her father to respect and understand her. Despite past mistakes, she could be trusted. Even though she had her eye on a more professional career, that didn’t stop her other loves.

  “Dad,
I—”

  Clinton cut her off. “You want to sing? You can do it in church. You are still going, aren’t you?” He shoved the cart in the closet and locked the door before he closed it. “You move out and we don’t see you there anymore.” He placed his fists on his hips. “This life, the one you desire that involves music, will only break your heart. It’s not a business that can guarantee you’ll get to eat every day or have a roof over your head.” He held her shoulders, which made her gasp. “Promise me that you won’t think about pursuing a life in music.” He shook his head. “I’m not saying you can’t sing. We both know that God blessed you with a voice. This life is something you don’t need.”

  Avery had so much to say. She hated feeling suppressed and raised on fear and regret.

  “Promise me,” Clinton said again.

  She swallowed. Every argument she had running around in her head disappeared. “I promise.”

  So did her dreams.

  Chapter 2

  “Lazarus, are you listening to me?”

  Never a good thing when Dad used his full first name. No one, not even his mother, still called him Lazarus. That got his attention. In order to keep his schedule, he would have to treat his father like he had taught him to treat the women he dated, think about something else while acting like he cared.

  “Listening, Pop.” Laz whipped off the towel he had around his waist and hung it over the shower rod.

  Laz flew from one side of his small Brooklyn apartment to the other to pack items into a couple of suitcases. As much as he didn’t want to ignore his father, Laz had too much to do in a short amount of time. Thankfully, he did this call on speakerphone instead of Facetime.

  Laz’s father snickered. “Doesn’t sound like you’re listening to me.”

  “Really? What do you think I’m doing?” Not that Laz cared.

  Running around naked only made sense until he finished packing. Laz had a game plan, although it did seem like his dad had some sort of sixth sense to know when he had lost his job. He hadn’t told his nosy sisters, who, even though they didn’t live with either parent, still felt the childish need to run to them with all news, particularly about him.