Our Story starts back here
So when Ben said there would be hell to pay, she got the message. There was no ambiguity about his intent. He was very strict about her reputation, and she had to admit that he usually had good instincts about the matter even though she constantly kept him on the defensive about his decisions. The term, "hell to pay" was clear, not only to Lucinda, but it had become fodder for pre rehearsal gossip to all the guys in the band as well. It had happened often enough for the guys to steal knowing glances at each other when Ben would threaten those ominous words in front of everyone, whether during rehearsal, on the tour bus, in the recording studio, or when they were all gathered around a table at a roadside diner. Everyone was so familiar with the term that Lucinda stopped being embarrassed when it was tossed around like the background music in the movie of her life.
Lucinda playfully shoved Ben out of the way so she could take another look at herself in the full length mirror behind the dressing room door. It was such a gorgeous dress, She had to wear it. She knew if she gave him a cohesive and coherant argument, she might be able to sway him to her way of thinking. “I demand an appeal!” she announced firmly.
“You what?” Ben laughed.
“Listen, just listen, okay?” Lucinda grabbed his arms and moved him over to the vanity and pushed him into it so that his butt rested on it’s edge.
He leaned against the vanity as he watched her go into her argument for why she should wear that dress on stage. “One of a kind… Paris designer… costs a fortune… I can have the slit closed up a little…” She loved to argue. If she weren’t a singer, he would have encouraged her to go to law school to become a litigator. There was something sexy about the way she argued her case. She was passionate, and she tended to use her hands in grand gesticulations when she wanted to make a point. Her breasts jiggled inside that dress that obviously didn’t have enough material to conceal a bra. Every curve of her body was prominent, and Ben tried not to smile while she was demanding his attention and consideration. But the truth was he wasn’t even …
“...listening?” Lucinda barked at him.
“What?”
“I knew it! you’re not even listening!”
“Of course I am dear.” He reached for her and placed his hand on her behind as he pulled her toward him and placed her between his legs. “You’re still not wearing that dress.” He placed both hands on her bottom and squeezed tight enough to cause her to squeal in discomfort. She pushed him hard in the shoulder with the heel of her hand to try and free herself, But Ben held on relentlessly to her jiggling behind as she squirmed. He began to gather up the material of her dress in his hands, moving it out of the way to gain access to what lied underneath. His eyebrows shot up. “No panties?” he wasn’t sure if he was pleasantly surprised, or irritated,
“You can’t wear panties with a dress like this. It’ll show a panty line.”
Ben threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, this just keeps getting better!” he said. Suddenly he stood up, and lifted his wife off her feet by her buttocks, turned around and placed her on the corner of the vanity so that she could see herself in the mirror. He moved his hand under her dress and cupped her between her thighs, feeling the moisture that told him she was ready for him. Lucinda gasped as her eyes widened. “Ben… are you…”
“Shhh” he said. He reached for his own pants with both hands and Lucinda heard a zipper.
“Ben, the door isn’t even locked!”
Ben stopped moving for a moment, looked at his wife, and then looked at the unlocked door. He looked back at the horrified look on Lucinda’s face. “Well then, I guess we should hurry then, huh?”
“Benjamin Webber, if you ruin this dress I will kill you!” She gently slapped at his shoulders as she tried to keep a straight face.
Ben placed one hand on her back, and the other on her chest, and eased her back so that her back was lying flat against the vanity. She turned her head and caught a view of her face in the mirror. Her eyes widened as she felt her husband push into her. Her legs instinctively went up in the air as her knees tightened on each side of his ribcage. She clenched her interior muscles around his manhood and shuddered as she tried to catch her breath.
“I...I don’t Fuckin’ believe you!” She tried to whisper as Ben moved out and then in again.
Ben looked down at her as he pulled out all the way to his tip. “What did I tell you about your language?” his tone was stern. “Why…” he rammed into her causing his thighs to slap against her round, full bottom... “Can’t you,” he pulled out and slammed into her again... “Obey me?” Lucinda yelped in her highest singing pitch after each thrust. She was loving every second, yet irritated that she still wasn’t getting her way. She usually got her way with him. Every once in a while she would lose the battle, but she was always ahead in the war.
“Dammit, Ben” she stopped and closed her mouth with one hand as she tried to retrieve the dammit from the air and stuff it back down her throat. “I mean… I mean, someone’s going to come through that door, crazy man! And I have to take this dress back. And you’re ruining my hair and makeup. And I have to return this dress and it’s going to have you all over it! And so help me, if someone walks through that unlocked door, I will kill you in your sleep!”
Ben stopped thrusting and looked down at her, leaned in and kissed her. Just a little peck on the lips, but it was accompanied by a goofy grin. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said. He pulled out of her, pulled up his pants and pushed his throbbing cock back inside the zipper. Then he offered her his hand, she grabbed on to it, and he pulled her up to a seated position.
Lucinda checked herself out in the mirror and began patting her hair back in place. “Crazy man!” she mumbled under her breath.
At that moment, There was another knock on her door. This time, the manager, Lester Shea stuck his head in. Lester was a short, stocky, grungy little man who dressed more like he was the janitor rather than the manager. When he saw Lucinda his eyes popped and the unlit cigar that he always had between his teeth fell to the floor. "Day-yam!" he exclaimed.
Lucinda gave her husband a stinging slap on his shoulder. “You see what could have happened?”
Ben quickly ducked between Lester and his view. "What can I do for you, Les?"
"Is she gonna wear that tonight?" Lester murmured excitedly, trying to crane his neck to see over Ben's shoulder.
“Maybe,” Lucinda piped up.
"No.” Ben snapped. “What do you want?" Ben again leaned to one side to block his view.
"Did you talk to the bass player I sent up here?"
"Yes. Thank you." Ben growled, becoming irritated with Lester's ogling. "Anything else?"
"Yeah." Lester leaned in further to catch a glimpse of Lucinda. "Miss Hastings, you had a visitor earlier. Some guy named Sam Harper. Told me to tell you he'd be back."
Ben turned to look at his wife. Her face registered confusion as if she weren't sure she had heard correctly. He turned back to Lester and ushered him back through the door with a push. "Thanks, Les."
“She needs to wear that dress. I’ll pay a bonus if she wears…” Lester’s voice disappeared behind the closing door.
Ben wasn't sure he could read the sudden smile on Lucinda's face. It was nervousness mixed with surprise, humor, and shock. She looked up at the ceiling as if speaking to a higher power. “No,,, shit.."
"I don't want you talking to him, Lucy."
She suddenly frowned. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I mean it. That bastard can't be trusted, and until I know what he wants, you don't talk to him without me."
"He's going to be here sometime today, and you won't be back until late tonight. What am I supposed to do when I see him? Run the other way?"
"Yes." Ben growled.
"Ben, Baby, I grew up in Brooklyn. I know how to take care of myself."
"You shouldn't have to. It's my job to protect you." He paused for a moment as he weighed his options. "That's it, I'm canceling this meeting."
"The hell you are! Now, we can use the extra work. You're not going to deprive the band of the extra money just because you're paranoid." She turned him by his shoulders and authoritatively propelled him out the door. "Go! Relax. I can handle the likes of Sam Harper." She searched his eyes for some sign of complacency but only saw agitation. "Tell you what... If he touches me, I'll kick him in the nuts, how's that?"
Ben finally smiled. "You would, too, wouldn't you?"
"You're damn right I would. Now get outta here. The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back.”
Ben set his jaw and scowled at the floor. "Okay," he conceded. He turned once again and wrapped his arm around Lucinda's waist and pulled her close. "If you talk to him, keep it brief. And I want to know everything that asshole says, got it?"
Lucinda rolled her eyes. "For God's sake, Ben. We haven't seen him in years. You're worrying about nothing."
"Look there are just certain things between men... things that you just don't understand..."
"And I shouldn't worry my pretty little empty head about it, is that it?" She pushed herself away from his warm body, placed her fists on her hips and glared stubbornly at her husband.
Ben groaned. It was the sound of a married man, taken down by his own words. "Look, I'm not... I didn’t mean...it's just that..."
"Ben, your cab is here," Lester's voice came from the other side of the door.
Ben hesitated a moment, and then sighed. He snaked his arm around her again, grabbed a handful of her buttock and kissed her deeply enough to excite them both. When Lucinda pulled back, she tilted her head and tried to read the seriousness in her husband’s deep brown eyes. His eyebrows knitted together, his forehead wrinkled and stern. Ben suddenly lifted his right hand high behind her, and brought it down hard on her backside with a loud slap. She jumped back and grabbed her butt with both hands. “That, my girl, was for your language.” His finger pointed at her. “I told you you need to watch that shit.” Ben lifted his jacket from the hook put it on, and opened the door to leave. He stopped on the threshhold and turned to face his frowning wife. He pecked her on the lips with his, and none too gently. “I love you,” he barked. “I’ll see you tonight.”
When Ben walked out of the dressing room, she stuck her tongue out at the open door. She took a deep breath and admired herself in the full length mirror on the back of the door once more. Sam was in town. She never thought she'd see him again. She leaned back against the makeup table and gazed at the lines in her face that reminded her that it seemed like a lifetime since she had laid eyes on him.
***
Sam Harper had been the driving force behind her career in 1960. He had discovered her at the age of 18. She had just finished scrubbing his toilet in the Chelsea Motel when he walked in his room and heard her singing, using the toilet brush for her makeshift microphone as she pretended to be on stage at the Metropolitan Opera.
The first time he had heard her sing, he told her that he could take her all the way to the top, and before she knew it he had booked her in clubs all over Queens, The Bronx, Brooklyn, Harlem, Newark and Hoboken weeks in advance. For a 19 year old uneducated colored girl from Brooklyn, she was doing alright for herself, and she had Sam to thank for her seemingly overnight popularity.
Ten months after Sam began managing her, she met Ben.
Ben Webber was only one of four black men to graduate in his class from IIT in Chicago as an chemical engineering student. On his way to visit family in Newark, New Jersey, he had stopped in a grungy little joint where Lucinda was performing. He was tall and dark skinned, with broad shoulders, and a quiet, soft spoken manner about him that imparted a gentle kindness that she hadn't been used to seeing among the men from her neighborhood. She had noticed him from the stage, and he had never for a moment taken his eyes off of her. He inserted himself into her world and spent every dime he had on trying to impress her. Ben had decided that he wouldn't go back to Chicago without this woman, so the well laid plans that he had mapped out for his life changed dramatically, and he found himself securing a position in one of New Jersey's leading pharmaceutical corporations just to remain on the east coast and in the presence of Miss Lucinda Hastings.
After only a month, he proposed, much to the chagrin of one Sam Harper, who only saw him as an intrusion in Lucinda's career and a huge pain in his ass. As far as Sam was concerned, Lucinda was his golden ticket. That damned college boy had stepped in at the most inopportune time, always looking over Sam's shoulder, checking on his distribution of money, insisting on approving musicians, songs, and overseeing every article of clothing he wanted her to wear on stage. Lucinda was now his wife, and Sam Harper’s reach could only go so far.
During an early afternoon rehearsal in a small Harlem Night club, Lucinda had just finished belting out a soulful rendition of Billie Holiday's My Man. The chairs were stacked on the tables as a cleaning woman lazily mopped the floor, and a bartender wiped down the bar for the 4:00 rush. Lucinda was disappointed with the sound of her voice. There had been a tired, raspiness to her vocal chords for days, and it was only getting worse. When the last note was sung, she glanced over at Charlie, her piano player, and noted the look of disapproval on his face. His was the only opinion that really struck a chord with her as far as her performance was concerned. Sam knew the business, Her husband was overly concerned with her image... but Charlie was the man who knew music, and he was clearly not pleased with what he heard. Lucinda was exhausted, and it was showing in her voice.
Suddenly, her new husband had burst through the front door of the club holding a small glass bottle over his head. He was clearly agitated. "What the hell is this, Lucy?" He demanded angrily.
Lucinda recognized the bottle and her heart began to beat faster. Sam Harper had told her to keep the pills a secret from Ben. He wouldn't understand, he had told her. Lucinda shrunk, for a moment as Ben glared at her, his massive body looming over her as he grabbed her arm. She was suddenly overcome with the instinct to fight back as though she were a cornered animal. She angrily yanked her arm away. "And what the hell were you doing in my purse?"
"You better tell me right now, or there's gonna be hell to pay, little girl."
Lucinda backed away, bit her lip and glance over at her quartet. Her band was silently staring at her, waiting for the next shoe to drop. "They're... they're pep pills. Sam gave them to me so I can stay awake for the late night gigs."
"When were you going to tell me about this?"
"I don't have to tell you everything. It's none of your damned business," she seethed.
"Everything you do is my business!"
"Sam said you'd act like this. He said you'd want to hold me back!"
It was at that moment that Sam walked through the front door of the club sporting an unknowing smile on his face. When Ben turned and saw him, he jumped off the stage, barreled toward his wife's manager, pulled back a fist and busted Sam right in the mouth knocking him backward off his feet. Lucinda screamed Ben's name, scrambled off the stage and ran toward her husband. Ben shot an accusatory finger at Sam as he lie on the ground lifting himself up on one elbow and rubbing his jaw, dazed and confused. "You ever give my wife amphetamines again, and I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!" The guys in the band stirred for a moment, but somehow knew better than to get involved. Apparently there was a new sheriff in town. "AND YOU'RE FIRED!" Ben hurled the bottle of pills at Sam as hard as he could catching Sam in the forehead between his eyes.
Ben felt Lucinda's fist pounding on his back as her angry shouts rang in his ear from behind him. He turned around and caught both her arms in his grip as she spat foul names, curses and threats at him.
"Listen to me, listen to me, dammit," he demanded, but she only yelled louder and began use her feet to kick Ben in the shins. The stabbing pain in his shins was agonizing, and he had had enough. "Okay, you wanna pay right now? Fine by me!" He reached around him and grabbed a chair off of one of the tables and placed it on the floor with one hand as he held Lucinda's wrist with the other. In one graceful motion, he had unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops. He turned to address the band. "So help me, if one of you guys makes a move to stop me, you're fired too!" He then sat down on the chair and pulled her over his thighs as she flung her hands out to brace herself against the floor to keep from falling. Her bottom was facing the stage where her loyal quartet stood in awe as they watched her irate husband fold the belt in one hand and then lift her skirt up over her waist. He hesitated... having planned to rip down her panties, but suddenly remembered they had an audience of men. Lucinda yelled out a couple of curses as she grabbed on to Ben's ankle and tried to push herself back up, but felt a strong hand between her shoulder blades pushing her back down.
She lifted her head and caught the sight of Sam, still on the floor trying to gain the momentum to stand up. His hand was still at his mouth, and an expression of confusion overtook his face when he pulled his hand away and observed the blood on his fingers.
As Lucinda felt her face flush, the whole thing happening in slow motion... until...
WHAP! the belt came down on her bottom and wrapped around her hip into a sting that forced a scream from her throat. She kicked wildly and tried to roll herself off of Ben's lap, but was held there by a vice grip. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! She began to scream profanities, and she knew a different one for every stroke of the belt. Her screams quickly became hoarse and her cries became low moans of agony. The burning stripes became more intense and furious as she fought to free herself. The sound of the belt against her bottom rang in her ears as Ben laid welt after welt on her rapidly reddening backside. The string of profane language stopped and was replaced by pathetic agonizing pleas. "Please, Ben... PLEEEASE!" she choked.
She was never sure just how many strikes of the belt she had taken. She just knew that she was spent. Without an ounce of fight or energy left in her body, she finally lifted her tearstained face to see that Sam was gone, and she sobbed quietly, not even noticing that the spanking had ended. She felt Ben replace her skirt to her rightful place and lift her up by her ribs. Ben stood up and wrapped her in his arms as she continued to struggle against him. His arms folded around her small frame, and he held her tight against his chest as she tried to push away from him. When it was clear that she wasn't going to budge an inch, she gave in and began to sob again as she dug her face into his shoulder. "You got no right. You just ain't got no right..." she whined.
"Are you ready to listen to me now?" he whispered.
She wiped the snot from her nose on his shirt and nodded her head.
"Sam was using you," Ben said. "As long as he kept you hopped up on that shit he gave you, he could over book you 'til you collapsed."
"You don't know that. He said he could make me famous. The only way I can do that is if I can handle the schedule!" she yelled into his chest.
Ben placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head to face him. "Baby, how do you think Billie Holiday died last year?"
Lucinda shook her head adamantly. "It's not the same. That heroine shit killed her, you know that."
"And how do you think she got started? Someone who was making money off of her started giving her anphetamines to handle the schedule, then she needed downers to get some sleep. she went from one drug to another trying to catch that high, until she wound up with the drug that finally killed her.”
Lucinda reached back with her hands and gingerly touched her inflamed bottom as she thought about it. Lucinda and Billie hadn’t been close friends, but they ran into each other often, and Lucinda genuinely liked her. Lucinda watched helplessly as she slowly destroyed her career through narcotics arrests and dope addiction, and eventually wasted away in the hospital.
She glanced over at Charlie. He was like a big brother to her. He looked back, sporting a weak smile of encouragement. He respected Ben and knew that she didn't fully appreciate how blessed she was that she was married to a man with integrity.
"I never would'a gone that far, Ben. You gotta know that."
"Yeah? I bet at some point Billie said the same thing to herself." He loosened his grip on her and began replacing his belt through the loops of his pants. "Sam can't be trusted, Lucinda." Ben went on. "I'm going to take over as your agent from now on. And I'm going to take care of you and protect you from wolves like Sam Harper."
Lucinda shook her head adamantly and stepped back from her husband. "You're not a manager. You don't know anything about this business. You don't have the connections that Sam has. I can't make it without him. You had no right to fire him! You need to get him back now!"
Ben sighed. she was right, as far as being the agent to a local singer in New York City, he had no clue as to how to even begin. But he couldn’t trust anyone else with the job. He’d only been married to a singer for a few weeks, and already he was acutely aware of the seedier side of the business. His wife was a woman with talent and beauty, and she needed to sing. But the night life world was nasty and dangerous, and the people that were at the forefront of the new york night club business took advantage of women trying to break in. Yes, he’d have to handle this himself.
Ben regarded her as though he were seeing his wife for the first time. "Let me ask you something. When we first met, you told me that you sing because music had become a part of you. You said that you felt like the notes and the lyrics entered a hole in your heart and sewed it up from the inside. Do you remember saying that?" He lifted her chin with his finger and his eyes locked with hers so that she couldn't look away. She nodded. “So tell me, do you sing because you love it, or because you want to become rich and famous?"
Lucinda didn't answer. She looked down at the floor, ashamed, confused, and convicted. It was then that Ben promised her that he knew enough about the business to make her successful. Her career was going to be about her love of the music, and not becoming famous to the detriment of her health and sanity.
Ben would make a good life for the two of them, as he provided a way for her to do what she loved, and all she had to do was sing with grace, dignity, and professional integrity.
In less than a month, Ben quit his job and became Lucinda’s full time agent.
Over the years bass players and drummers and sax players would come and go. But her pianist, Charlie, who had been with her since her very first gig, filled the new guys in on Ben's strict code of ethics and the meaning of "hell to pay."
***
Lucinda shook her head and took one last look at the dress in the mirror. As she reached again to grab the zipper, she heard another knock at the door. When she opened it, there was Sam Harper standing there like a ghost from the past.
He was still tall, handsome, and slender. The last fifteen years had been good to him. He had that smooth, flawless dark skin, and that constant 5-o'clock shadow. His teeth were as big and white as she remembered, but he wore his hair in a full afro as was the style now. He wore one of those polyester leisure suits with a bright floral shirt and lots of gold chains around his neck.
"Hello Sam." She regarded her old friend for a moment, smiling out of politeness. "It's been a long time."
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