Sam leered at her hungrily as his eyes scanned her form in that dress. He leaned into her as he gripped the door jam, sporting a lascivious grin on his face. Lucinda stepped back to keep him at arm's length, her back making contact with the makeup vanity. "You are a sight for sore eyes, Baby Girl," he said as he eyed her up and down. "That is some dress. Your body really filled out nice over the years."
Suddenly Lucinda felt naked. There was something dirty about the way he stared at her, and she suddenly felt the need to cover herself... but she didn't. She stared back at Sam with a daring determination to not be intimidated by him. "What are you doing here, Sam?" she asked coldly.
"I couldn't believe it when I saw the press release that you were playin' here, Baby Girl. Had to look you up. I thought you'd never leave New York. Thought maybe we could have a drink and catch up on old times."
"I’m afraid I don’t drink on days I perform."
Sam tossed his head back and let out a hearty gufaw. "Since when?"
"It's been fifteen years, Sam. Things have changed. Drinking just makes me sluggish and... stupid."
"Well, I usually do my business negotiations over bourbon... but I suppose we can talk in here." He reached around her to take a flower out of the vase and pretended to sniff the aroma as he looked down on Lucinda's scantily clad bosom. He was close. Too close.
Lucinda's jaw tightened. "What do you mean, Business?"
“I mean, I got something for you that’s gonna skyrocket your career, Baby Girl.”
“Forget it, Sam. You’ll have to talk to Ben about that.”
"Ben? Ben Webber? You still with that college boy that whipped your butt that day?"
"Yeah, I'm still with that college boy that also whipped your butt that day if I remember correctly."
The humor quickly drained from his face. "Yeah? You got a contract with him?"
"I don't need a contract, Sam. He's my husband."
"Well, if you ain't got a contract, then you're a free agent. Or is he holding that leash just a little too tight around that pretty neck o’ yours?"
Lucinda rolled her eyes.
"You know, I always hated the fact that that guy just swooped in and married you right out from under my nose. Sonuvabitch just sorta came outta nowhere. I never had a chance with you."
"Sam, you never had a chance because you were a married man."
Sam took another intimidating step toward her, closing the gap between them. "I can recall a couple of times when that didn't seem to bother you." He reached up and sensuously brushed Lucinda's cheek with his fingers.
Lucinda recoiled and stepped away from his reach. "Don't flatter yourself," she said softly. "I let you kiss me a couple of times, but it never would have gone any further than that. I may have been a stupid kid who didn't know what she wanted... but I sure as hell knew I didn't want to be your side dish."
Sam sighed, defeated. "Fair enough, fair enough. Well... I guess I better get to the point, huh?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“ I recently changed careers, Baby Girl. You are now talking to one of the premier executive talent scouts for Columbia Records," he announced proudly.
Lucinda felt every muscle in her body stiffen as she eyed him suspiciously. Her mouth suddenly went dry. “You... lie.”
Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his business card and held it up to her face. Lucinda read it carefully before she reached up and put it between her fingers. She anxiously bit her lip, not knowing how to react. The entertainment business had always been a hot bed of gossip, and over the years she had heard about Sam’s various business ventures, clients, and employments. This one had slipped by her.
“Con… congratulations,” she choked out nervously.
Sam held a measure of satisfaction in her reaction. He had wanted to see her knees buckle at the sound of one of the top record labels in the country, and if he knew her at all, she’d beg him for the opportunity to become affiliated in this prestigious circle. “I've been keeping up with your career, Baby Girl. You ain't exactly got your wings yet, have you?"
"We're doing just fine, Sam." The irritation was coming through her voice. She was torn between wanting to impress him, and wanting to rip his face off for putting her down.
"Just fine?” he chuckled bitterly. “That ain't what you wanted. I know you, Baby Girl. You wanted to shine like a star. You always had what it takes, but you blew your chance when you married College Boy.” He leaned on the vanity and held out the flower to her like a burnt offering. “How'd you like to get out from under that fly-by-night record label and come play with the big boys? How'd you like to tour Europe, cut an album with Herbie Hancock or Miles Davis... maybe do a duet with Barbra Striesand? Go to the Grammy awards every year. Maybe even move out of Harlem to Hollywood, or the Hamptons."
Columbia Records certainly were the "big boys" of the American music community. They had been the catalyst for everyone who had skyrocketed to the top and turned to gold. Their PR and distribution departments blew the other labels out of the water, and as long as Lucinda had been in the business, she was still virtually unknown in the mainstream music industry. She could feel herself starting to drool.
"My associates have heard your albums. They’re all fans," Sam continued. "They want you, Baby Girl."
Lucinda's heart skipped a beat as she caught a glimpse of her own stunned expression in the mirror.
"We thought we'd take a short meeting with you tomorrow, just to talk preliminaries. How's that sound?"
"You know I can't talk to you without Ben," she said with as much conviction in her voice that she could muster.
"Oh, Come on, Baby Girl. Don't you think it's time you grew up? Didn't I tell you that man was holding you back when you married him?"
"Ben loves me, Sam"
"I'm not sayin' he doesn't. But he don't understand this business like we do. He thinks all he has to do is get your name on a puny little local record label, and book you a couple of gigs here and there, and you've arrived. When you and me... we know what the real meaning of arrived is... don't we? And you ain’t even come close.”
He could see that the wheels in her head were spinning out of control as she stared at her reflection in that mirror. He went on. "Wouldn't it be a wonderful surprise for Ben if you could suddenly show him a contract between you and the most successful record company in the country? This is a chance of a lifetime. You still livin' in that old beat up brownstone in Harlem? It's the seventies, Baby Girl. Wealthy blacks can buy a home anywhere they want now, and here's your chance to be counted among the greats. Sara Vaughn, Ella Fitzgerald, Dinah Washington. You and me... we had a dream back then, and now we got a second chance. There are thousands of talented singers all over the country who would die for this opportunity, and I'm offering it to you. What's it gonna be?"
Lucinda lowered her eyes and stared at the floor for a moment. When she raised her head, her face was full of a new determination that Sam had hoped for. "Okay, " she said. "Tell me when and where. But this has to be kept quiet. I can't let Ben know about this just yet. If something comes out of this meeting, I want to surprise him. and if not... then he never has to know that I met with you."
Sam reached into his jacket pocket again and pulled out a pen. He lifted the card Lucinda was holding like a vice grip in her fingers, turned it around, wrote something on the back and held it out to her. “My colleagues and I are staying at the Drake Hotel. Can you get there Monday at 5:00?"
She tentatively took the card from his fingers. Ben would be furious at first, she told herself. But after he sees her opportunity, he would have to understand. He would have to be proud. “I’ll be there.” she said.
Sam headed for the door.
"And Sam..." He turned to find a serious scowl on her face. "Strictly business?"
Sam smiled and held up his right hand as though taking a vow. "Strictly business, Baby Girl. I promise." He eyed her up and down one more time. "By the way," he said, "you really want to impress them..." he winked. "You wear that dress."
To be continued
To be continued
No comments:
Post a Comment