Ethan's Song (16 page)

She gave her agent a nasty look as she stood. This was one of the things she hated, and he knew it, but there was no way she could back out. "What am I supposed to do? I didn’t bring my guitar. This was supposed to be only dinner."
"Piano," Donaho mouthed. He stood beside her, escorting her on stage. "Roger will play the new song." These words were spoken near her ear so she could hear.
"Roger? New song? You had this all planned!" Her voice accused as she was forced to keep going. "We’ve not practiced enough. I can’t..."
"You’ll do great, baby. Trust me. I know what I’m doing." He left as she went up the few stairs.
As she walked to the man still holding center stage, she glanced down, seeing Roger sitting on the bench before the grand piano. He nodded then began playing the prelude. As she reached the owner, he put the mike into her hand in time for her to begin.
Her voice sang out loud and clear as the hands in the audience were silenced. Her thoughts were on Ethan, the words sung to him. She, herself, couldn’t believe how easily the song flowed from her. It was as if she was singing it for the hundredth time, but would never tire of it. The words spoke of the love she had for the man in Savannah.
The response had been what her agent was wanting. There was still something missing, but it was beautiful. He stood at the bottom of the steps waiting to escort her back to the table as Roger played more of the soft music that had been interrupted. As they made their way back to the table, she put her hand in several that had been outstretched to her, accepting the words they spoke about the song. Mostly she was embarrassed by the whole thing.
"Let me tell you, Donaho," she spoke to him as soon as they were seated again, "if you ever do that to me again, I will be out on the streets in the morning looking for someone to replace you." Her tone told him she was as serious as she could be. "No, I wouldn’t be." She corrected herself. "I’ll be out of here and married before you can blow a whistle."
The man reached over, patting the woman’s hand. "Calm down, Jenà. Things worked out very well." He looked at his wife for approval. "Very well, indeed, don’t you think so, Angel, my dear?"
The woman eyed her husband, then glanced at Jenà. "I think she’s right, Philip." She kept her voice on a sweet level, but her attitude was much as the other woman’s. "Give her a warning of some kind before throwing her into a situation like that again."
The look on Philip Donaho’s face said he had been thoroughly put in his place. He was silent, not knowing how he should answer his wife’s words.
Raising his hand, he snapped his fingers twice, calling for the check. "I did promise I would have you home early." He had spoken to Jenà, though his eyes were on the waiter coming to their table.

SLOWLY THE next few days passed. Back in the old swing of things, she found it hardest to get back to the late hours. Ethan was in her last thoughts as she slipped into sleep, and her first thoughts when she opened her eyes. He was there in between, in her day and night dreams.

It was Friday, almost noon, when her phone rang, Ethan so heavy on her mind she knew he was the one calling. Was he going to be able to come after work? Or was this going to be a depressing conversation? Her hesitation was slight in answering, dreading the latter would hold true, but praying for the former.

The voice hit several sour notes as her agent sang the words after her almost cheerful salutation. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray."

"Got the message, Donaho." She interrupted the noise that came from the ear piece. "What have you got up your sleeve today?"

"Ah-h-h. You know me well, honey." The voice had a smile. "I want you to meet me downtown at Kennedy’s for lunch. We need to talk about this song and your contract."

"What’s wrong with my contract?" There was suspicion in her words. Then she lit up as the thought came to her. "You’ve decided to knock off the last year, haven’t you? Angel talked to you. She understands and..."

"Whoa, girl! Slow down. When you get there, we’ll talk. Let’s say about half an hour?" He hesitated and she didn’t fill the silence. "I promise you, baby, no surprises."

"That’s good to know." She sighed the words with great relief. "I’ll be there. Is there any problem with a simple dress? After all, it’s not one of your more elegant restaurants."

"Wear whatever you want." He assured her. "We’ll be eating this time, that’s all."
Taking him at his word, Jenà was on time. The sign, as she went in, told her to be seated, so she picked a booth in the center of the small room where she could watch for Donaho.
Time ticked by while she drank the soda she had ordered, looking at her watch every few minutes. She noticed a man sitting two booths down, watching her. No, he was studying, not just keeping an eye on her. Checking the time on the clock on the wall, she didn’t want to make any more eye contact with him. The front door opened, and as she looked up to see who was coming in, she caught sight of the clothes standing beside her table, belonging to the man she was trying to avoid. Her eyes moved upward until she was seeing the deep brown eyes looking down at her.
"I really hate to bother you, but aren’t you Miss Wisdom? Jenà Wisdom?" His voice wasn’t deep like Ethan’s, but it had a nice tone.
"Yes, I am. Should I know you?" She studied him, trying to place his nice looking face with a name. She would have remembered his eyes, if nothing else about him.
"No. We’ve not met. Not yet." His hand was extended in a friendly gesture. "Calvin Hargrove. I had the pleasure of hearing you at the Orange Paradise the other night."
"Oh." Her tone, she knew, was a lot less than enthusiastic. "I’m sorry that happened. You see, my agent arranged it behind my back. The guy on the piano and I had only been given the song that afternoon and played around with it a few hours. We weren’t anywhere near ready to go public with it. I usually go it alone, just me and my guitar."
Calvin sat on the bench opposite her, a smile on his face as he silently listened to her hastily made speech. "I see nothing to apologize for, Miss Wisdom." He reached into his jacket pocket, bringing out a small black card holder, handing her a business card. The logo in the upper left hand corner was a gold record. She need go no further. "You mentioned an agent. I don’t think he’s doing you justice, Miss... Would you mind if I called you Jenà?"
"It is my name," she stated, uncaring. "And as for Philip Donaho, Mr. Hargrove, he is doing exactly what he’s being paid to do."
The look on his face changed. "But the potential you have... Surely he knows you belong up on the charts. That is, you would be in a matter of a few more songs like the one I heard the other night."
"Donaho knows exactly that. He and I fight constantly about it, Mr. Hargrove." She finished her drink, turning down a refill. "I have to be going. He was supposed to meet me here nearly an hour ago. If I didn’t know better, I’d bet this was another set up." Standing, she wished the man a good day, leaving a couple of dollars on the table to pay for her soda, his card beside them, then walked outside in the afternoon heat.
Calvin caught up to her after paying for the meal he had eaten before joining her at her booth. "Jenà, wait up." His voice stopped her as she was about to walk around her car to get in. His long legs took him to her side quickly.
"Yes, Mr. Hargrove?" There was a slight irritation in her voice. "I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do, as do I."
"Please, it’s Calvin. And I feel a confession is quite in order." Leaning up against her sky-blue Dodge Aspen, he folded his arms against his muscled chest.
He had to spend a lot of time in a gym, Jenà thought. The knit pullover didn’t hide anything about the powerful muscles that made up his physique. "A confession? Don’t tell me, Donaho set it up for you to try to persuade me to burn a CD in your studio." Her eyes darkened in an anger she felt rising inside as she saw the man before her raise his eyebrows slightly, answering her question with an expression that needed no words. "I most certainly do have something more important to do, Mr. Hargrove. I’m truly sorry your time has been wasted."
His quick step put him directly in front of her, stopping the progress she was making to her car door. "I don’t see where it was a waste of my time, Jenà. I find you very attractive, and I wonder if we might take the evening off together."
"Excuse me, Mr. Hargrove." She took two steps around him. "I’m too busy to stand here in the street arguing with you. I’m not interested in recording anything, and I’m far too busy for dates."
His hand shot out, catching hers. In less than a second, she found herself against his powerful chest, her lips being assaulted with his own. It couldn’t last long, as they were in public, and she was very visibly struggling for her freedom.
With all the anger she’d ever felt, her hand connected with his cheek. "Let that be a warning, Mr. Hargrove." It took every ounce of strength to keep herself in check. "Never come within ten feet of me again." She waited for nothing. Quickly she was in her car, had the ignition key inserted and the engine purring.
Steam was still coming from beneath her collar when she stormed into Mr. Donaho’s office. His secretary tried to stop her, but she never heard a word that was said behind her. The door hit the wall with a loud bang when she threw it open. She didn’t see the three men sitting in the padded chairs in front of the man she was looking for. Her dark blue eyes focused immediately on the one who sat comfortably behind his desk. All talk between them had ceased at the loud noise that came from the door.
"Donaho, I want to see my contract, now!" Her words weren’t held back. All the feeling she had came out in the voice she had thrown at him. She was sure if he had been standing, he would have fallen over at the demand.
"If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen." He came out of his chair in a rush, knowing he couldn’t put her off, as he knew what she was about to do. He had known she would be upset with his deceit, but the anger she was showing he hadn’t been expecting. More than anger, she was venomous. He hadn’t seen her so violent before. "Now sweetheart..." he crooned to her as if she were the spoiled client she was acting. "Let’s go in the other room and very calmly discuss this." He had gotten to her side by the time he finished speaking.
"Calmly?" Her sarcastic smile was aimed at no one in particular. "There isn’t a room anywhere close that can keep these gentlemen from overhearing. We’re staying right here to discuss this. Calm isn’t something I’m going to feel for a long, long time, Donaho. Not after you sent that... that... immoral... womanizer... after me." She turned from him after the first three tears began a river down her cheeks. "I can’t believe you would do that." She was having trouble keeping her voice from squeaking.
"Sweetheart..."
Turning back to him, she felt her eyes dry up as if they had never had a drop in them. Her voice was low, the words coming from clenched teeth. "Don’t you ever,
ever
, use that name on me. I am not your sweetheart, nor your baby, nor honey..."
His hands were on her arms as he turned his head to the men who sat watching the woman with awe. "I’m sure you’ll agree we should continue this meeting in the morning, gentlemen?" He watched as they stood.
"You and I are through, Donaho. I want that contract, because I’m going to tear it up. You might even enjoy it for lunch, as you didn’t show up for the one you invited me to." She talked on as the men slipped out behind her. Raising her hands to his chest, she began pushing the man who was slightly larger than she, to his desk. "My contract, Donaho. Where is it?"
He leaned up against his desk, searching his mind for consoling words that would help calm her. "I’m sorry, Jenà. I know I asked you to lunch, but those gentlemen came in and time got away from me."
"Don’t give me that crap. Calvin Hargrove confessed that you set it up. You are two of the most money-hungry people, if I can even classify you in the same category as the rest of us." She used her finger on his chest, remembering the last time she had done that to a man. Before she found herself on the floor, she had just noticed how shaky she had become, she sat in the nearest chair.
Being more honest with her, he apologized again. "I’m sorry. I admit I was desperate. Here you are, not only telling me in a few months you’re getting married, but also ending any hopes I had of changing your mind. Sweet..." Quickly he changed what he was about to say. "Jenà, you’ve got to understand me. You are the most talented person I know. I can’t just let you slip out of my grasp without giving it another try. Surely you can understand that."
She felt so drained. The anger she’d felt earlier was still there, but she had no energy to show it. Slouched down in the chair, she let her arms hang over each of the chair arms. She had no more strength to say anything to him.
Philip Donaho pushed himself from his desk. "Jenà? Please don’t be so upset with me. Are you feeling all right?" She had gone pale and very still.
Taking a deep breath after there had been at least two minutes since he had asked her if she was all right, her voice, still strong in anger, carried through the room. "I was very upset with you when I realized what you had done. But when Mr. Hargrove grabbed me in front of everyone on the street and started kissing me, I’m afraid I lost it."
"He did what?" Philip’s cool had left him. "The nerve of that..."
"You possess enough of that nerve yourself, going against my contract." She stood on shaky legs. "I’m going home. Please call and explain why I’m not up to potential tonight."
"No, Jenà. Please. You can’t miss tonight." His voice told her he was coming up behind her.
At the door she turned to him. "What’s so special about tonight? More men to pounce upon my talents, as well as my body, Mr. Donaho?" She hadn’t called him Mister in so long, it was like a slap in his face. "I couldn’t give them the performance they would be paying for. I think I’ll go home and eat a lemon."
"A lemon?" His question came out in a puzzled tone. It took a few seconds for his memory to kick out her meaning. "Don’t do anything so drastic, Jenà. I’ll call and make sure everything is clear."
"Good." She was out of his office, feeling the eyes of his secretary on her. "Because the last time I had just a touch of lemon in a sauce, it was an accident, and it took two weeks before I could sing again. I was on the cruise. In fact, my throat almost closed up." She only told him this as a warning. "It would be a shame to have so much talent lost, wouldn’t it? You see, Mr. Donaho, the doctor told me an infection like I get from lemons can cause permanent damage. He has seen it happen." With the threat out, she left the building, heading home.