Get Over It (16 page)

S
am ended his visit early when he and Zac got a request to do some quick tracks for another Epsilon artist. He flew out to NYC this morning, along with Zac and Mystique on a private jet.

Evan and Dreya are gone too, on their own private jet. I wonder why they don't all just chip in and fly together. Then, they wouldn't have to spend so much money. They might not all make it there in one piece, but at least they would've saved thousands of dollars.

Almost as soon as they left town, I received a phone call from Lawrence Cohen. He was still in Atlanta after making an appearance at Big D's party. He wants to meet with me for lunch at Astrid's, a trendy, hip new restaurant in Buckhead, to discuss my future.

I know what this is, and I have no idea if I'm ready to have the conversation.

Lawrence beats me to the restaurant. I see his platinum-blond hair as soon as I step through the door.

This place is extra fabulous. They have valet parking only and there's a dress code. I'm glad I had enough sense to wear something nice.

The hostess looks me up and down as if I don't belong here. Guess they don't have too many college kids come here for lunch, and she looks a little old for music videos and reality shows. Now that I think about it, it's kind of refreshing
not
being recognized. There aren't too many places in Atlanta where I can go incognito, so I'm happy to have found this place.

“May I help you?” the hostess asks.

“My party is already here,” I say and I nod over in Lawrence's direction.

“You're meeting Mr. Cohen?” she asks with disbelief in her tone.

“Yes.”

“Right this way then, ma'am.”

Oh, so now I'm a
ma'am
. I like the sound of that. It sounds like respect.

As we approach the table, Lawrence stands and smiles like a true Southern gentleman even though he's from New York. He gives me a hug when I get to the table.

“You look beautiful, Sunday!”

I laugh out loud. He's laying it on a little thick. I put on a nice blouse and a straight black skirt. And I combed my hair up into a neat bun. I absolutely look presentable, but not at all beautiful.

“Thanks, Lawrence. You look nice too.”

Lawrence stares me down as he holds the chair out for me to sit, and he doesn't take his eyes off me until he sits down on his side of the table. I thought this lunch meeting was about the label, but he's looking at me like he wants to eat me for lunch. Maybe I should've brought Sam along.

“So what do you think of the tracks on Dilly's CD?” Lawrence asks.

“I think they're tight. He is talented though, so I'm not surprised. I'm just happy his career is not falling by the wayside.”

“I know. His brother came to me and convinced me to hook up with Big D. I'm glad they did.”

“I'm surprised y'all didn't ask me to do a feature.”

Actually, I'm more than surprised. My feelings are somewhat hurt, especially since I helped put Dilly on the map and all.

“Well, we wanted Evan to warm up to the idea of Big D's label before we started asking the Reign Records artists to start doing appearances on our projects.”

“Nothing in my contract would keep me from helping my friend on his record.”

Lawrence's smile beams. “I'm glad to hear you say that, Sunday.”

Uh-oh. That feels like a setup for something.

“Is Evan your friend?” Lawrence asks.

I knew he was leading up to something! I take a long pause to consider the question. Evan's position on my friend list is questionable. I'm not sure if I can say that and actually mean it. He is a family member though, so I'll just roll with that.

“Are you going to ask me to do something that a friend would consider betrayal?”

The waitress comes to our table and Lawrence grins at her. She returns his grin with every flirtatious gaze. He must be known in here to be a man of long dough.

“Would you like your usual, Mr. Cohen?”

“No, sweetie. I think it might be a little early for my Grey Goose and cranberry juice. How about a cup of hot tea?”

“And what would you like, miss?”

“The same with extra sugar and honey, please.”

After jotting down our orders, the girl drops her pen on the floor in front of our table. Lawrence reaches for it, but she stops him.

“I'll get it, Mr. Cohen,” she says.

Then, instead of picking up the pen like a lady would, she bends over at the waist, giving Lawrence a full view of her behind and even a peek at her thong. Thirsty much?

Lawrence laughs as soon as she's out of earshot.

“What's so funny?” I ask, about to crack up myself.

“She's been trying that for the last six months. Every time I visit she drops that pen.”

I shrug. “Butterfingers?”

Lawrence throws his head back and laughs even harder. “Yeah, I guess. She wants a baller, so you know. . . .”

“Ugh. You gonna give her some play?”

“Nah. She's not poised enough for me. She uses cheap shampoo and she bites her nails.”

“Okay, so the nails are obvious, but how in the heck do you know she uses cheap shampoo?”

“Her hair is dull and stringy, not to mention she's got split ends.”

“Dang! You saw all that?”

“Some guys like body parts. I like hair. Yours is very nice and healthy by the way.”

I don't want to burst Lawrence's bubble, but I use whatever shampoo they have at the dollar store down the street from campus. I'll just go ahead and let him think he's a hair expert!

Lawrence leans forward in his seat and looks me directly in the eye. “I'm sure you already know why we're here.”

“I suspect it has something to do with this rumor that you're going to offer me a deal with Epsilon if I leave Reign Records.”

Lawrence nods. “The rumor mill is correct for once. What do you think about that?”

“Well, I think if y'all have beef with Evan, that y'all shouldn't involve the rest of us. Why do we have to choose?”

“It's not about beef with Evan. He's gone against the wishes of the label owners, and they are done with his impertinence. Reign Records is done whether you all decide to stay or not. I'm giving you an opportunity to get something out of this. If you switch over now there will be incentives that won't be available if you wait for Reign Records to fold on its own.”

“What kinds of incentives?”

“Signing bonus. Bigger marketing budget with your next release, and we'll pick up the tab for some stuff that usually comes out of your check, like studio sessions, road trips, etc.”

“If Bethany and I leave Reign, then what happens to my cousin? I'd like to get some incentives for her.”

Lawrence shakes his head. “Do you really think Evan is going to let his wife stay with Epsilon when we're giving him the boot? Plus, she's not Epsilon material. We want artists who are attractive to sponsors. She's too hood.”

“And Truth? What's attractive to sponsors about him?”

“Have you noticed that he's completely changed his image? Do you think that Drama would do the same? Do you think she'd become more like you if we asked her to? And if she did become more like you, why would we need her? She'd be a less talented version of you, and she doesn't have the crossover appeal that Bethany has.”

I try to gauge Lawrence's face for anything that might be personal against Dreya, but I can't see anything that looks vindictive. He seems all business when it comes to her, as if he has no choice but to make the decision he made.

“And you're sure that this has nothing to do with Mystique being threatened by Dreya?”

Lawrence chuckles. “I won't lie to you, Sunday. That has a lot to do with it. Mystique makes us more money than any of our artists. We'd be fools not to keep her happy, especially when it is concerning someone that means very little to the label right now.”

“What if Mystique decides she wants me gone? Or Bethany? You're just going to keep dropping artists because she's insecure?”

“We've got plans to make you and Bethany big earners just like Mystique. She knows that, and she knows how far her influence goes. She knows that we still cut the checks at the end of the day.”

So Epsilon is only willing to get rid of Dreya because they don't really want her anyway. Hmmm . . . I see that Mystique's influence has limits. I wonder if she knows this. If not, she sure as heck won't learn it from me.

“How long do I have to make a decision?” I ask.

“You're still not sure?”

“Not sure about leaving my cousin out in the cold when she's trying to promote her record? No, I'm not sure about that.”

“I'm making you this offer now, Sunday, because I like you, but I can't promise that it'll be here a few months from now when everything starts to unravel.”

So first the offer, then the threat. Looks like Lawrence is the good cop and the bad cop in this situation.

“Why don't we just enjoy lunch today? I will let you know my decision.”

Unfortunately for Lawrence, I don't suffer from insecurity like Mystique. I know my worth, and I am not going to let them force me to make a decision I might regret. I may very well leave Reign Records, but it's going to be because Evan has completely lost his mind.

“You're a tough cookie,” Lawrence says as our waitress comes back with our drinks.

I reply with a smile. “That's funny. Big D used to say that to me all the time when we first started out.”

“Well, he was right. I wish I knew myself as well when I was your age. I'd probably have my own company by now instead of trying to run my father's.”

“You're doing a good job, Lawrence. You've got the biggest star in pop music on your label.”

Lawrence's lips spread into a smile. “Not yet. But I'm working on it.”

I smile back. Lawrence sure knows what to say to a girl. Sounds like we need to start a new battle. Team Lawrence versus Team Evan. And team Lawrence has a big head start.

“C
ome on, DeShawn, let's go running,” I say as I stretch out in my newly purchased sweats and sneakers.

DeShawn sits on the couch, looking completely unmotivated. He looks at me suspiciously, and shakes his head. “You do not want to go running. What's going on with you?”

“I can't want to go exercise with my friend? You like running, so I'm gonna go running.”

“You couldn't even get to the corner without your chest exploding. What do you really want?”

I put my hands on my hips and pout. DeShawn has been sulking around the house ever since Sam became an Internet sensation. I'm sure he's seen the video, but we haven't talked about it. I'm sure someone in the house mentioned how tight me and Sam were at Big D's party, and well . . . Sam was cooking breakfast at my house.

DeShawn already knows what it is, but I don't think he really wants to have the conversation.

“Okay, I'm busted,” I say. “I don't really want to run, but I do want to talk to you for a minute.”

He chuckles. “Really? You do? Whatever could you want to talk about?”

“Come on, DeShawn. Don't make this harder than it already is.”

“It's hard for you? Wow. It's a lot harder for me than it is for you, I think.”

I take a seat next to DeShawn and he moves over to make sure we don't touch. Ouch. That hurts, but I guess I understand.

“DeShawn, you know when you give a person an ultimatum . . .”

“Yeah, I know. If I had to put it to you like that then it was a huge possibility you weren't going to choose me.”

“It has nothing to do with you. You are an incredible person. If I had met you first, I would've never even looked at Sam.”

“Well, then you wouldn't be Sunday Tolliver, pop star, right? So, I guess everything is as it should be.”

I inhale deeply and consider this. My destiny is definitely connected to Sam's. He wouldn't be the producer he is without me, and I couldn't write the hits without him. DeShawn is right.

“So, just to make it official, I choose Sam. I love him, DeShawn. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah. I'll move out soon. I know that's going to be the next request.”

I shake my head. “I'm not in a hurry for you to move. You can wait until the beginning of the school year if you want.”

“That would really help me get my money together. Thanks.”

I touch DeShawn's arm lightly. He pulls away again. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, I will. Just don't try to smooth it over. Don't be sweet to me, because I couldn't stand that. Just leave it the way it is, and go be with your producer.”

His voice trembles a bit at the end and it touches me deeply. Considering the heart has such strong feelings that reach out to the world, it is such a fragile organ. I want to do something or say something to make this all okay for DeShawn. But the one who breaks the heart can't be the one to mend it.

G
ia, Ricky, and I are at another sorority house off campus, namely the Kappa Betas. These girls are usually the laughingstock of the Spring Step Show. They didn't even sign up to be in it this year. The sorority is made up of future engineers and scientists, so their grades are more important than stepping.

Their president, Kita, says, “Sunday, I mean we love your music, but we don't step.”

“But you could! Gia and Ricky are going to help you!” I say.

“But why do you want us to do this?” Kita asks.

I tell them all about the prank that the Gamma Girls played on Piper. Jaws drop around the room.

“That was awful,” one of the Betas says. “How do you want us to help again? I'll try to learn your step.”

The plan is to turn the worst step squad in the school into the winning step squad and take every ounce of shine away from Gamma Phi Gamma. In one week.

“I'm going to sing while you step!” I say. “We wrote a song just for you.”

“But what about the stepping part?” Kita asks.

Gia says, “So look, most of your step consists of synchronized running in double time.”

Kita looks really confused now. “We need to see that.”

Gia and Ricky get up and demonstrate the step. It really is easy, even for a non-dancer like me, but it will look really slick when all the girls do it together.

“We don't have time to get anything to wear, though!” Kita says. “The step show is in a week.”

“I'm gonna have a seamstress do a custom order for you,” I explain. “She'll be here this evening to measure everyone.”

“You've got this all planned out, don't you?” Kita asks.

“Yes. They really hurt my friend, so I want them to see how it feels.”

Gia says, “Come on, Betas, let's line up. We're gonna work hard, and you guys will win the money!”

A pleasingly plump and short Beta smiles at Ricky. “Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks.

“I do,” Ricky replies.

“Watch it, lil' girl. This is
my
boyfriend,” Gia says.

The little soror puts both hands up in surrender. “I'm so sorry. We don't get too many cute boys around here.”

“Enough about boys!” Gia says. “Right now, Ricky is not cute to you. He is not even a boy! He is a choreographer that's going to whip your non-stepping butts into shape.”

I sit back and watch Gia and Ricky work with these girls all day until the step really starts to come together. They're even getting a little bit excited. I bet they never thought they had a chance to win before. Me singing is going to put them over the top.

Ironically, while I'm sitting on the couch at the Beta house, I get a text message from Sharday. Please tell Piper to call me. She won't answer my calls.

Why would Piper want to call her or any of those other Gamma Phi Gamma chicks? I quickly delete the text without a second thought. My girl doesn't have to worry about being a part of anything like that. She's got us. We're her sisters.

 

After hanging out all day with the Betas, I have a rehearsal at my house for our solidarity concert with Dreya and Bethany. Bethany is out for the show, and she will go right back to the rehab immediately following the show.

Bethany's sponsor wasn't happy about her doing the show. She thinks that the environment will tempt Bethany to use drugs, and since she's newly detoxed that wouldn't be a good thing. But Bethany is contractually obligated to do the show, so we all promise (except Dreya) to help keep Bethany sober for the evening.

“I thought we might do one of our songs from back in the day,” I say. “One of our Daddy's Little Girls songs.”

“They were pretty whack,” Dreya says. “I can't think of one that I'd want to do.”

I smile at Dreya as she absentmindedly strokes her stomach. It's amazing to me that she's pregnant, and that she seems to really be happy about the baby coming into the world.

She throws a couch pillow at me. “Ew. What are you looking at, loser?”

“I'm looking at the mommy-to-be,” I tease. “Do you talk to your baby?”

“Yes, to tell her to sit herself down somewhere. I think all that flipping around they caught her doing on the ultrasound is what has my stomach all messed up. She needs to chill.”

“Can you feel her move yet?” Bethany asks.

“No, not yet. She's not big enough yet. But I will soon.”

“That is so beautiful,” I say. “The gift of life.”

“Stop being a lame! What song are we singing?” Dreya asks.

Instead of saying the song title, I start singing, “We are family/we got each other/no matter what/no one can come between us/we are family/we're standing strong/no matter what/we're sticking tough.”

As I sing the verse again, Bethany and Dreya hit all the harmony parts like we just practiced it yesterday. It sounds perfect. As soon as Evan hears it, he's going to want us to record it.

“We sound good, but why that Goody Two-shoes song?” Dreya asks.

“Because the song is about solidarity. So we should be singing about sticking up for one another, you know? I think it's a perfect choice.”

“Well, okay, then. Let's get the entire song as perfect as that little hook we just sang,” Bethany says. “I can't wait to be on stage with y'all again.”

“You okay?” Dreya asks.

Bethany's eyes widen at Dreya's concern. “Yeah, thanks to Sunday and my sponsor. I'm okay.”

“Good, 'cause even though you get on my nerves, I still got love for you,” Dreya says.

Bethany jumps up and hugs Dreya. “I love you too, girl!”

Dreya looks ready to pop Bethany upside the head, but instead she hugs her back. That's Dreya's version of love. Sometimes instead of hugging back, it bites back, but you always know it's there.