“Good. Then, I guess I’ll go ahead and tell you about the summer showcase coming up. It’s an industry-only event in California. Labels, scouts, music execs, and a bunch of folks ready to drop bread into MTA will be there. I’m bringing three of my artists, and I’d love for you to be one of them.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “You wantmeat a showcase like that?”
“Absolutely,” he said without missing a beat. “I’ve already made you a client on my roster. Truth be told, I didn’t need this meeting; you did. I already knew I was signing you on my flight home from Houston. Out of respect and the sake of professionalism, I had you pull up so you really knew who was representing you.”
Orielle blinked, unsure if she heard him right. “You already added me?”
“I did. I don’t take clients I gottaconvinceto be great. You’re already doing the work. Been doing the work. Now, I’m here to multiply it.”
Her throat tightened with emotions from the sheer relief of being seen... again. In this case, heard. Sovanna let him hear one song through one of her AirPods while they sat in first class, and he drafted an email to his team. Orielle was so overwhelmed with gratitude.
She had been going hard for so long and wondered if anyone beyond her followers even noticed her. They had, and now Zahir was going to make it his mission to make sure the world knew who Rielle Summers was.
“I guess I should start planning then,” she said, smiling.
“Absolutely. Not just for the showcase, but for your life to undergo a major change. After today, your reach, your catalog, your audience, shit, even your hair won’t be the same.”
She gasped. “But I love my curls,” she said, placing her hand over them as if Zahir had a pair of scissors in his hand.
“Not your natural hair; the ginger persona.”
Orielle slowly lowered her hands. “Oh.”
Zahir wasn’t going to get into it right now, but he could tell she was trying to hide something behind the wigs.
“You can still protect your voice and show the world the real you,” he suggested.
“No more separating the art from the artist then, huh?”
“In this case, no. But it’s no pressure. That was just a suggestion. Your fans gon’ feel you and the music regardless of what you look like.”
“As long as I keep giving them music.”
Zahir smirked. “Exactly that.”
Orielle nodded slowly as the severity of this moment settled in her chest. Just last year, she told Cash that singing was just a hobby. The moment she stopped treating it like one and stepped out on faith, her entire life had changed.
She’d asked God what her identity was in this season of her life, and He showed her. The power of trusting Himandherself on this journey had been one of the most rewarding thus far. Orielle didn’t know why she had ever doubted what was already laid out for her.
14
“HARD FACTS BUT NEEDED TRUTHS.”
“It can’t be this hard to pick out flowers,” Najee mumbled to himself.
With a concentrated look on his face, he scratched his head, contemplating. Standing in the aisle of Petals On The Plaza downtown, he felt overwhelmed by the array of arrangements.
Having been in a relationship for five years, technically four since he’d gotten cheated on for one of them, one would think he’d be a pro at choosing a bouquet. That couldn’t have been further from the truth.
All it took was for Renae to tell him one time that she didn’t care for him to buy her flowers, and Najee never did again. She hadn’t crossed his mind in so long, but right then, Najee couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head at his naivety.
He should’ve known what was up the day he was released and spotted the vase of roses on the table. She hadn’t come down with a damn cold; she’d gotten a baby sucked out of her. Najee wouldn’t have been surprised if the card attached to it, telling her to get well, had been from a man.
That was the past, though, and Renae would remain a nonfactor. Najee may not have known much about peonies or lilies, or the season when tulips bloom, but he remembered Orielle mentioning the color of roses she liked.
“White roses because they looked so pure and peaceful,” Najee said aloud, recalling her words. “Like her.” He smirked.
“Hi. Are you looking for anything specific today?” a florist wearing a hunter green collar shirt asked.
