Page 17 of Kisses Behind the Spotlight

The coughing continued for a few moments, and I lifted my hand to prevent Q from coming any closer. I knew I wasn’t choking. It just felt like it, and I didn’t want to get him sick. My eyes watered, and I gagged a little before the coughing finally subsided.

“I’m fine. I’m just going to lay down,” I rasped. Q was still a good distance away when I stood back up straight and forced a smile to quell the concern written all over his face.

“I’m good,” I wheezed.

“You sure?”

“I’m positive. I’m going to drink these and lie back down. Thank you,” I muttered.

“Okay. I’m going to check on you later. Please put the laptop down and rest.”

“I will,” I assured him, stepping back into my unit.

I closed the door in his face and used the last bit of strength I had to open one of the juices before climbing back into bed.

Settling back into my spot, I drank the orange-tinted juice, tasting the ginger, turmeric, and citrus fruits. I did way too much and probably would remain miserable for the rest of the day, but it was worth it to see the horror on Xain’s face. A devious smile gradually spread across my face at the memory.

CHAPTER FIVE

Quinten “Q” Bentley Jr.

The light turned green, and the V8 roared beneath me as I mashed on the gas. I swear it didn’t make any sense how many lights you had to make it through before reaching the on-ramp for 275. My fingers cinched around the steering wheel as I swerved around cars, lying to myself that it would shave some time off my drive. It didn’t. We all ended up at the same light together. My palms were sweating, and I took a deep breath while waiting for that light to turn green.

The stress seemed to be making my hand tremors worse than usual. I lifted my hands from the steering wheel and watched my hands tremble slightly. It wasn’t noticeable unless you knew what you were looking for or I was pouring something to drink.

Anything that could possibly slow me down did just that. I had my entire day mapped out. Breakfast with bae, then meeting her father at the building. However, I wasn’t in love with the song that Max uploaded to CI. I hit him as soon as I decided I wanted to make changes, and it took him a few hours to work out the kinks for the most important song of my life. Anxiety had me hand-holding Max through every step to ensure that my shit was right before I headed to meet James.

After an agonizing ninety seconds or so, the light finally turned green, and I mashed out, whipping across the intersection and through the next two lights that led to the interstate. Once on 275, I flew north until I reached my exit. A text came through, and Siri read the notification aloud.

“Text from James. Where you at? I have a flight to catch.”

I ignored the message and focused on driving because I was almost there. Whipping my midnight black Ferrari into the empty parking spot next to James’ G Wagon, I quickly killed the engine and hopped out.

“About time. You insisted that I meet you here before I fly out, but you show up late. What did we need to meet in person for?”

“I know. I planned to be here on time, but shit went awry. First, I wanted to show you that I took your advice. I bought this building, and we are going to turn it into a one-stop shop. A music recording studio, a section for podcasts, and a space for freelance photographers that may be working in the area. Fabian helped me come up with that idea,” I rambled, referring to my travel photographer.

He was based out of LA but came to Tampa to work for me, and he’d often take side gigs if he were in town for a while. That also left him scrambling to find space since he didn’t have his own spot here.

“That’s what’s up. I’m proud of you,” James smiled, pulling me in for a hug. “I swear, I ain’t know what the fuck my daughter was getting into when y’all first met. But I’m so proud of the man you have become. I appreciate the way you treat my daughter, especially in your line of work.”

“James, that means a lot,” I nodded. “My nerves have been fucked up all day knowing what I was going to do, but you just helped me relax. Let’s hop in your whip real quick. I want to play you something.”

“Play me something? You already back in the studio?” He eyed me suspiciously.

“Yeah, just trust me,” I laughed, rounding his truck.

“D3 is in the front. Hop in the back,” James announced.

“Oh nah, if he’s in the truck I can just let you listen right here,” I informed James, clicking around on my phone. “I don’t plan to release it to the public.”

Outside of James facilitating a conversation where I promised to get on a track for him, I didn’t know jit like that. When we had that conversation, I was preparing for my album and didn’t have the time to squeeze that in. I offered D3 advice and some encouraging words when we conversed, and promised to circle back on the feature. Hell, I’d even been okay with Khaleesi moonlighting for him. Usually, I kept her to myself. If we didn’t have anything major going on with the music, she could relax. From time to time, she’d plan shit for my family, but she hasn’t worked with another artist since I started making money off this rap shit.

Nonetheless, D3 was the last nigga I’d let listen to something I held so sacred.

“Understood,” he confirmed.

“Before I play the song, I have to ask you something.” I paused and took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. “I wanted to meet before you left because Valentine’s Day is coming up, and I want to ask Jameera to marry me. I wanted to have your blessing to pop the question.”