Page 27 of Brown Sugar
“You and Amari are twins.”
“Fraternal.”
“You can tell you’re related. Sisters.”
“We did share a womb.”
“And now you work together,” he says.
“She’s very talented. One of the best designers in the business. There’s a reason I’m always topping fashion lists. And, listen, about your brother… I’m sorry. I didn’t know or else I wouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s fine. I prefer not to talk about it right now. It wasn’t that long ago that it happened.”
“Understandable.” We fall into another silent spell where he eats the rest of the beef empanada he’s started on, and I realize I’ve lost my appetite. Though a craving for something else has slowly come up. “Would you like a drink?”
“What’d you got?”
“Don’t get too excited. I have wine and more wine.”
He grunts out a sound that sounds similar to a laugh. “I don’t find that surprising.”
I’m not sure I can explain what’s up with me tonight. I’m not even sure why I invited Tyson over for dinner in the first place—I was exhausted by the end of the extensive schedule and hadlooked at him seated by me in the back of the limousine. My heart fluttered as if I were nervous, but really, thoughts about the day were filling my head.
He’d stuck up for me where I hadn’t even stuck up for myself.
And when everyone thought the crackling noises were gunfire, he’d pulled me down with no hesitation.
After how I’ve been treated as of late, especially by Shawn, it’s nice.
It actually makes me feel special.
I pour two glasses of red wine and carry both over to where we’re seated at the opposite kitchen counter. My phone goes off from where it’s set down next to my plate of food.
“That’s Tommy.”
Tyson grunts. “Probably calling to tell you he wants me gone. He’s pissed about the stunt at the Jamz interview.”
I slide onto my barstool and scoff. “Tommy was the one who set up today’s schedule. He’s been working me nonstop for months now. He promised I’d get the summer off, then he and the label decided to move up my album release and the tour. Which means now I won’t be getting any time off ’til next year.”
“You’re their moneymaker.”
A sigh leaves me as I let Tommy’s call go to voice mail. “It would be nice to be an indie artist. But I’m too big. Too much of a machine. My whole brand is controlled by him and the label.”
Tyson grunts again. “He doesn’t have your best interest in mind. Your brand? Sure. But you?”
I can’t even refute his claim.
It’s true.
I’ve always been aware of it. In the beginning, it never bothered me. I was so hungry for success, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.
Several years and albums into my career, I’m on the verge of exhaustion…
“Thanks for what you did today, by the way,” I say. “Standing up for me. Making sure I got a moment to eat. And ending the interview.”
Tyson nods, taking his first sip of the red wine. “The new album you’re promoting. It’s really about the ex?”
“Unfortunately. I wrote it back when I was in love. Back when I was convinced we’d get married. Now I’m forced to release it. I’m sure it’ll be a huge ego boost for Shawn.”