Any Way the Wind Blows - E. Lynn Harris [81]
“Are you sure he can’t read? How’d you find out?” Brison asked.
“Several small things happened. He never read any contracts I gave him, and he was always getting Kendra to fill out applications for him. Whenever we went out to eat, no matter where, he would just say, ‘Order me a hamburger or chicken,’ without reading the menu. Eventually I just figured it out. I did trick him into confessing, and I think he’s embarrassed.”
“He’s going to be more than embarrassed when he signs with one of the big boys and they take him for everything he’s worth,” Nico said.
“That’s sad, and I hate to lose him, but we got to move on,” Brison said as he moved from behind his desk.
“Daschle is going to be a number-one draft choice. We can’t just let him walk out. Didn’t he sign a contract?” Nico asked, raising his voice even more.
“Yeah, he did. But our policy has always been to not force clients to stay if they didn’t want to be here,” I said as I looked over at Nico, who was looking at me with narrowed, distrustful eyes. I felt awkward, like I was on trial.
“I think there’s more to this than his just not being able to read. We need to make him honor his fucking contract, and we need to just confront him face-to-face, and see why he really wants to leave,” Nico said as he looked at Brison and then cut his eyes at me.
“Let’s take the night and think about this and decide what to do in the morning,” Brison said in a guarded voice.
“Cool,” I said as I turned and headed toward my office as I felt the walls of my life of lies and denials closing in on me.
Bart’s Escape from New York
I was wiped out after a grueling session at the gym. In preparation for my trip to Santo Domingo, I had hired a trainer for a few sessions just to make sure my body was in peak form for the boys and the beach.
I dropped my gym bag on the new leather sofa I had purchased and checked my answering machine. There was a message from Wylie thanking me again for the gift and saying a proper thank-you note was on the way. There was also a message from Yancey B, asking me to call her immediately. I couldn’t believe I had the voice of one of the hottest singers on my answering machine. She even left her number. I needed to tell her that a true diva left only her assistant’s number. A girl had to be prepared for anti-diva terrorists lurking around, and there were a lot of diva-haters in New York.
I wrote the number down on a pad and then saved the message. I knew it was a message I would never erase, along with the two messages I had gotten from Basil when we first met. There was still something about that sexy voice of his.
I dialed Yancey’s number, and after a few rings, a female voice picked up.
“Hello.”
“Is Yancey B in?” I asked.
“Who’s calling?”
“This is Bart Dunbar returning her call.”
“Oh, Bart. This is Yancey. Thanks for calling me back so soon,” Yancey said.
“No problem. How’s it going?”
“Everything is fine. You know, my record is in the top three, number one on the dance charts, and we’re getting ready to drop the second single,” Yancey said.
“I’ve been keeping up with you on the radio and Billboard magazine,” I said.
“I’m so excited. I think the album might go platinum soon, thanks to the songs and video. Have you seen it?”
“Yep, I have, and it does look great.”
“It sure does. That’s why I’m calling. The guy we had scheduled to do the next video got sick, and we need to find a replacement fast,” Yancey said.
“So how are things going with you two?” I asked.
“Slow but steady. Anywho, I called your agency, and they said you’re not working for the next couple of weeks,” Yancey said.
“Yeah, I’m going on a little vacation.”
“When are you leaving?”
“In a couple of days.”
“I need to ask you a big favor. Will you come and do the shoot with me? We need somebody with a stunning body, and that’s you,” Yancey said with the charm of a morning talk show hostess.
“You want to use me again?” I asked. I was always shocked when an unsolicited and unexpected