After Hours Redemption (404 Sound) Page 5

  “Wow.” Naiya shook her head from side to side. “This song...is fantastic.”

  Releasing a pent-up breath, Eden remarked, “Awesome. Your expression had me a little worried there.”

  “I’m just amazed at how accurately you captured my sentiments about my first love.” She held up the notebook. “It’s not sappy and fake, nor is it ragey and bitter. It really toes the perfect line.”

  Placing her hand over her heart, she smiled. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you like it.”

  “We’re going to work great together.” Naiya’s gaze dropped to the handwritten lyrics again. “I can tell.”

  Eden spun halfway around on the stool, intent on knocking on the glass to get Blaine’s attention. When she faced the partition, she saw him standing near the studio’s open door, talking animatedly to a very familiar-looking man.

  Naiya asked, “Who’s that Blaine is speaking with?”

  Eden shrugged. “One of his brothers, though I’m not sure which one.” She watched the exchange, and even though the booth’s soundproofing prevented her from hearing their conversation, she could tell by their body language that their discussion was heated.

  Blaine threw up his hands and returned to the soundboard. Engaging the mic, he said, “Ladies, I need to go to my office for a bit. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Without waiting for a response, he switched off the mic and strode from the room.

  Eden blew out a breath. What’s going on with him? When they’d been in the studio alone, she’d had his full attention. Now it was obvious something else was at play, and she couldn’t help feeling frustrated. “Okay, then. I guess we’re working on paper for a bit. Any tweaks you want to make to the lyrics?”

  * * *

  Stalking down the hallway toward his office, Blaine stopped near the benches outside his door. Gage, following close behind him, nearly collided with him.

  Fixing his brother with a hard stare, he asked, “Why in the hell would you do this, Gage? Why would you bring Dad here?”

  “Because he asked me to.” Gage shook his head. “More like he demanded it. What did you expect me to do?”

  “Show some backbone and tell him no,” he groused. “We’re not kids anymore, Gage. We don’t have to do everything he says.”

  Gage ran a hand over his close-trimmed fade. “Maybe you aren’t, bro. But in case you forgot, my office is two doors down from his. The only way I was going to be left alone to get my work done was if I did what he asked.”

  Blaine sighed. “Thanks a lot, Gage.”

  “You’re welcome. He’s in your office, and I’d suggest you don’t keep him waiting much longer.”

  Groaning, Blaine went to his office door. He leaned forward, peering through the small tempered-glass window.

  Just as Gage had said, Caleb Woodson sat in the guest chair near Blaine’s desk. Blaine could see his father’s sour disposition displayed on his bearded face. Caleb wore one of the charcoal Italian-cut suits he favored, and his arms were folded over his chest.

  Pausing to take a deep, steadying breath, he turned the knob and pushed it open. “Good morning, Father.”

  “Hmph. What’s so good about it?” Caleb’s gruff tone communicated the same level of dissatisfaction as his expression. “Come on in here. I need to talk to you.”

  Blaine let the door shut behind him, seeing no reason to subject the whole building to their discussion. Walking around the desk, he took a seat and faced his ornery father. “Well, it must be important. I never expected you’d lower yourself to visit me here.” He knew his words were harsh, but they were also true. His father had basically disowned him when he’d opened Against the Grain. “You could have called, so you wouldn’t have to sully yourself.”

  “Trust me, son, I don’t want to be here any more than you want to see me.” Caleb leaned forward, placing his hands atop the desk and lacing his fingers together. “The only reason I came here instead of calling is that I wanted to see your face when I asked you this question. That way I’ll know if you’re lying to me.”

  He wanted to roll his eyes but refrained. “Go ahead. Ask away.”

  “What do you know about Hamilton House putting in a bid to buy out 404 Sound?”

  Blaine furrowed his brow. “Dad, what are you talking about?”

  Caleb watched him intently, his dark eyes boring into his son’s. “You mean you haven’t heard anything about your principal backers trying to take over my life’s work?”

  He sighed. “No, Dad. I don’t know anything about it.”

  “Are you sure? Weren’t you in New York at the headquarters not too long ago?”

  “Yes, I was in New York recently,” Blaine retorted. “But I don’t know anything about this whole buyout situation. What you just told me is the first time I’ve heard it.”

  Caleb watched him for a few seconds more. Letting his shoulders droop, he took his hands off the desk and sat back in his chair. “I see.”

  “I’m not sure what kind of relationship you think I have with Hamilton House, but it’s not like I’m privy to every decision they make.” Blaine rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. “They help fund my business, and in exchange, they get a cut of my profits. That’s the entire extent of our relationship.”

  Caleb rubbed his hands together. “Would you have told me if you knew about it?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not really my place.”

  His father shook his head, his expression grim. “You’re such a disappointment, Blaine. I wanted so much more for you.”

  There it is. Dad can’t talk to me for more than five minutes without taking a shot at me. Shaking his head at the patronizing tone his father had taken, he sighed. “I know, Dad. And I’m sorry I can’t be as perfectly organized as Nia, or as obedient as Gage and Miles, or as creative as Teagan. I’m the family screw-up, and if I ever forget that, I’ll always have you to remind me, won’t I?”

  “Not always, kid.” His lips twisted into a grimace. “But that’s neither here nor there.”

  “Nice use of guilt there, Dad. You missed your calling as an actor on a daytime soap.”

  Caleb slammed his fist on the table. “Watch your tone, Blaine. I’m still your father.”

  He averted his eyes, remaining silent. As strained as their relationship was, he didn’t set out to purposely disrespect his father.

  “You listen, and you listen good. Addy and I raised all our children with good manners and good sense. You’re grown now, and your choices are your own. But don’t you sit there acting like you sprouted up from the earth fully formed. Show some damn respect.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” he murmured. “It’s just that I did all this for myself.” He gestured around the office. “I did it on my own, and you never give me credit for it.”

  “Yes, son, you did do this on your own. Against my advice and without my blessing. And I admit you’ve done all right for yourself. But had you stayed with 404, stayed with the family, you’d be doing better.”

  Blaine blew out an aggravated breath. “Okay, Dad. I’ve answered your question, so can I get back to running my business now?”

  Caleb stood. “You do that. But I have a message for those cronies at Hamilton House, and I want you to give it to them.”

  “I’m listening.”

  His father leaned forward, resting his palms on the surface of the desk. “You get on the phone, and you tell them this. Addy and I will never sell 404 Sound. It’s our legacy, and we worked too hard to build it up to just hand it off to someone outside the family. And even if we did sell, there’s no way in hell we’d ever sell to Hamilton House.”

  Blaine quipped, “Should I use those exact words, or is it okay if I paraphrase?”

  Caleb scowled. “Tell them however you want, smart-ass. Just make sure they get the message, you
hear me?”

  “I’ve got it, Dad.”

  With a huff, Caleb turned on his heel, slung the door open and marched out.

  Left alone in his office, Blaine dropped his head against the backrest of his chair and let out an audible groan.

  Six

  Eden slipped into the recording studio Wednesday around 10:00 a.m. She looked around the empty space, seeing no sign of Blaine or Naiya. She glanced at the time on her phone. I’m a little early. He should be here soon. She could remember many slights Blaine had dealt her, but he generally didn’t keep her waiting.

  She scoffed, shaking her head at the direction of her own thoughts. What do I know about Blaine, really? She had only her past interactions with him to go on. She’d thought she knew him well then, which had led to her being blindsided by his betrayal.

  She entered the booth, leaving the door ajar so she could hear him when he came in. Hanging her woven purse from the doorknob, she sat down on the stool. In the quiet surroundings, she let her mind wander.

  She recalled those days when she was a fresh-faced twentysomething, dreaming of singing superstardom. She, Ainsley and Cambria had pulled many long days and nights in the studio, working on what was supposed to have been their debut album as Swatz Girlz. As a songwriter for the group, Eden had probably put in more hours than her cousin and their good friend.

  She’d been spending so much time in the studio with Blaine that, looking back on it now, it seemed only natural that they’d become romantically involved. She remembered the way he watched her when she sang, as if her voice were the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. She could still feel the warmth that flooded her body whenever he smiled at her, her breath catching when his hand brushed against hers, the way tingles of excitement ran down her spine whenever he kissed her.

  She sighed aloud.

  Those were the days.

  When I was trusting and full of hope.

  When I was too young and naive to see what was coming.

  The memories of what she’d shared with Blaine seemed so long ago, and simultaneously, it seemed like only yesterday. Her life had changed so much since then. One thing that remained unchanged was her love of music, hip-hop and R & B in particular. It was that love of music that had helped her survive the crushing heartbreak of Blaine’s betrayal.

  She turned her head to the left, eyeing the instruments occupying one corner of the recording booth. Spying a keyboard sitting on its stand, she scooted the stool up to it. Turning it on, she set the keyboard to piano mode and plucked out a few notes. There had been many times when she’d written songs just this way—by picking out the basic tune on the keyboard while working out the lyrics in her head. As the verses became more solid, she’d start vocalizing to get the cadence just right. It wasn’t usually until the second or third draft that she put the words on paper. Her process was a bit unorthodox, but it worked well for her.

  She ran through the scales a few times, then paused, her fingers still poised over the keys. The urge to sing overtook her, and she felt her fingers change position. Soon, she segued into the opening notes to a classic tune by Xscape, “My Little Secret.” The song, from their 1998 album Traces of My Lipstick, was one of her favorites of the last two decades. Knowing that group members Tiny, Tamika, LaTocha and Kandi were fellow Atlanta natives only made her love their work more.

  Singing through the opening verse, she could feel the smile coming over her face. Singing gave her a special kind of joy, a feeling she didn’t get from anything else. Watching Ainsley and Cooper interacting was a close second, because it touched her heart to see the genuine love between mother and son. But there was nothing quite like opening up her mouth and letting her voice soar.

  She was rounding the second chorus when she noticed Blaine standing in the open door to the booth. Surprised, and a bit embarrassed, she stopped mid-note.

  His face filled with earnest admiration, he spoke into the awkward silence. “Please, Eden. Don’t stop.”

  Heat flared in her chest, and she could feel it rising into her cheeks. “Blaine, I...”

  “It’s been so long since I’ve heard you sing.” He took a step closer. “I don’t want it to be over yet.”

  Swallowing her nervousness, she picked up where she’d left off. Now that he was in the room, the lyrics, about a secret romance between two people with plenty of baggage, suddenly seemed much more potent.

  And personal.

  Suddenly, this song, which she often sang in the shower or while driving, simply because she found it catchy, became almost autobiographical. Under the intense, watchful gaze of the man she’d once loved, every word took on new meaning.

  She sang the song to the end, then eased her fingertips away from the keys.

  Blaine burst into applause. “You’ve still got it, Eden.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her tone softer than she’d intended. She looked away, reeling from the intimacy of the moment. Having him as a spectator to her impassioned singing felt too familiar, too reminiscent of a time she’d fought hard to forget.

  “I’m not just gassing you up, either.” His tone quiet, almost reverent, he took a few slow steps until he was right next to her. “I hear singing all day, every day. But I’ve never, ever come across another voice like yours.”

  She sucked in a breath, and his rich, woodsy cologne flooded her senses, threatening to undo her. Blowing the breath out, she struggled to find words to articulate her feelings. “I appreciate the compliment, Blaine. I really do. But...”

  “But, what?” He watched her intently. “Is something wrong?”

  She tucked in her bottom lip. How can I tell him that being this close to him ruins my concentration? That I can’t focus on my work because all I want to do is climb him like a tree?

  “Eden?”

  “I’m fine.” She shifted on the stool, angling her face away from him in hopes that she might regain some of her faculties. His physical size, combined with his overt masculine energy, seemed to fill the space around her, making the booth feel even smaller than it actually was.

  He reached out, his fingertips brushing lightly over her bare shoulder. “Are you sure?”

  She trembled, reacting to the tingling sensation brought on by his electric touch. For a moment, she wanted him to continue, wanted to feel his kiss. Soon, though, common sense took over, and she shook her head. “Yes, Blaine. I’m positive.”

  * * *

  Blaine took a step back from Eden, concerned he might be invading her space. Even though she insisted she was fine, he sensed the discomfort rolling off her. Clearing his throat, he said, “Feel free to speak honestly with me, Eden. We’ve known each other too long to be dishonest with each other.”

  “If I had something to say, trust me, I’d say it.” She tossed the words over her shoulder, still not facing him.

  He sighed. “Well, I do have something to say.” He jammed his hands into his pockets, trying to get the words to line up in his mind. She looked so beautiful today, in a sunny yellow sleeveless blouse and a pair of wide-legged white linen pants that hugged her hips like he used to when they were making love. “I’ve...missed you.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide.

  He cleared his throat, trying to cover what had been too honest an admission. “I meant... I’ve missed working with you.” He could feel his blood warming. No other woman had ever left him so discombobulated.

  She did a slow turn on the stool, facing him again. Her hair, tied back in a low ponytail, highlighted the beauty of her bronze-skinned face. Her expression held a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “Oh, really? You’ve missed working with me, but you never called on me to write for you before now.”

  He missed more than just working with her, but something told him now wasn’t the time to mention that. “Just like your voice, your writing talents are unique, spe
cial. Up until now, I haven’t had an artist I felt could carry what you bring to the table.”

  “Laying it on pretty thick, huh?” She chuckled, shaking her head. “If you say so.”

  “It’s true.” And it was, partially, at least. He did think Naiya was perfectly suited to Eden’s songwriting style. But he’d also stayed away from Eden because she’d made it clear she didn’t want him around. After he’d been forced to cut her and Ainsley from his roster, things had soured between them in a major way. Both their personal and professional relationship had been flushed down the toilet that day, and he didn’t know if they’d ever get back to a good place. Still, part of him wanted to try.

  “Why are you staring at me, Blaine?” A curious half smile came over her face.

  He sensed her goading him. Still, he decided to take a serious tack. “Eden, you do realize I didn’t have a choice, right? I had to do what I did.”

  “Oh, boy.” She shook her head. “Here we go.”

  “Honestly. I had a lot of faith in Swatz Girlz as a group. But I had to make sure I had funding to make my business successful.”

  She laughed, slapping her thigh. “Do you realize you said the same thing back then? It’s the same old line about how you didn’t have a choice. But the thing is, you did. It’s your business, Blaine. You always have a choice.” She fixed him with a look, her eyes slightly narrowed. “You chose.”

  That’s easy for her to say. She could never understand what it was like to be him. People tended to assume that because of his family’s money, his whole life had been some sort of leisurely stroll through the garden. Nothing could be further from the truth. “Come on, Eden. You’re not being fair here.”

  She snorted. “I think it’s a very fair judgment. You did what was best for you, I get that. But you have to admit to not giving much thought to what would happen to us. You know, you and me? The relationship we were building? Did you give any thought at all to the future we could have had?”

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Why can’t you see things for what they are? Why do you insist on thinking the worst of me?”