“Yeah. Chloe Havermill. Listen, I’ve gotta see to some things right now, but stick around after the upcoming set. It’s her last for the night. I’ll introduce you.”
Before Jack could dash off, Kellen put out a restraining hand. “Hey, don’t cue her in. Don’t stack the deck or get her riled up that there’s an agent in the house. I’m here to listen. That’s all.”
Jack’s eyes flashed, and his posture radiated confidence. “Yeah? Let’s see if that’s all you have to say once you hear her sing.”
The man’s stance was so definitive it took Kellen aback. His interest level inched upward.
****
The lights dimmed until all that remained was a centered spotlight. The curtain across the dais glided open. Conversations and dish clatter faded as the audience turned in unison, looking toward the stage, and waiting. A rhythmic, almost tropical drumbeat, accompanied by flowing bass, signaled the start of the Sade classic,
Paradise
.
The spotlight remained trained upon a woman who put to rest every doubt Kellen had felt upon hearing her name.
A long, silver dress dotted by sequins, flowed like water over a lithe body that was graceful and fluid. Spaghetti straps revealed toned arms, a long, slender neck. A straight column of black hair moved against her shoulders. He was positioned close enough to see that her large, wide-set eyes were violet.
Violet.
When she began to sing, her voice was nothing short of smooth magic.
From the opening notes, Chloe owned the room. She expressed the mood of the piece with pitch-perfect delivery. Her passion and skill rolled off the stage, slipping around the tables, enveloping her listeners. Kellen was stunned. Like the rest of the audience, he couldn’t look anywhere else. Her voice became the only thing he could hear.
It was second nature for him to size up people physically. Such was the nature of his business. Talent was the important thing, yes, but beyond that came the mysterious and elusive factors of charisma and dynamic appeal.
What was the package here? What would be the strengths and weaknesses?
A flashpoint occurred, providing an immediate answer to those questions. Quite naturally, that answer was channeled into terms any agent in the entertainment industry would understand. If Carrie Underwood had sleek, jet hair and violet colored eyes, she’d look exactly like Chloe Havermill. Chloe had the same gorgeous skin and flawless bone structure. She had the same dazzling smile. And Chloe had an innocent sweetness in her eyes, a sweetness that would provoke fierce loyalty, delight, and mega-sales.
The longer he listened, and watched, the more he stared. Captured. The corner of his mouth curved up. He felt pleasure just looking at her. That, coupled with the vocals she possessed, was an incredible intoxicant—because if this was how he felt, he was certain this was how America would feel as well.
He owed Weiss an apology for underestimation.
Kellen looked around, beginning to pay closer attention to the audience. They were enthralled. Chloe roped them in and fed their awed expectations. She drifted through smoky jazz ballad after heart-felt love song. The crowd, to a person, was completely behind her.
The set ended way too soon.
Not long after, Chloe entered the main room, accompanied by Jack. Moving through the crowd, she accepted handshakes and smiles, a few air kisses and delighted greetings while Jack led her to the table where Kellen sat. They were close enough now that Jack’s guiding touch and directing head nod caused Chloe’s focus to zoom in on Kellen, and it stayed put.
That’s when it hit him—a lightning bolt of attraction. A primitive male response to undiluted sweetness and a beguiling manner. Chloe Havermill struck him not at all as an arrogant, entitled performer—this despite a world of talent. Kellen didn’t even have time to consider his reaction before she stepped up, and looked at Jack, then back at him. Kellen stood, realizing his heart started to race, that his gesture stemmed from a mystifying call to be courtly.
Jack stepped into their elongated, intense silence. “Chloe, I’d like you to meet—”
“Chloe, honey!” Kellen’s waitress stepped up and held her empty tray to the side so she could give the singer a tight hug. “Happy birthday! Been waiting all night to see you so I could say hello! It’s a shame to be working on your big day!”
Chloe brushed that comment aside with a graceful sweep of her hand. “No worries. To me, this isn’t work. It’s a joy. Thanks for remembering, sweetie, and I’ll talk to you later, OK?”
“You bet.”
Kellen watched. Oh, he couldn’t wait to work with this woman.
She turned back, wearing an expectant expression, waiting on Jack, who started to chuckle as Kellen’s smile spread. He didn’t let Jack introduce him. Not quite yet. “So, today’s your birthday?”
“Yes. Yes, it is. Ah…” Chloe stumbled verbally, obviously confused about what was going on, and why she was standing at Kellen’s table.
Kellen reached into the breast pocket of his suit coat and extracted a business card, making ready to hand it over while Jack tried again. “Chloe, I think you’re in for a great present. I want you to meet a friend of mine.”
Already she extended her hand. Kellen connected to her promptly, taking her hand in his, but not shaking, just holding on.
Jack performed the conclusion. “This is Kellen Rossiter. Kellen, say hello to Chloe Havermill.”
Her eyes went wide. She breathed deep and the sequins of her dress shimmered. “Kellen. Rossiter.”
Because of his hold, he felt her waver just slightly.
Jack chuckled. “Pleasantries dispensed with, I’ll leave you to it.” Jack speared Kellen with a look that reeked of ‘I told you so.’
Chloe, meanwhile, gave her boss a fast, almost desperate look. “Can’t you join us?”
Kellen pulled out the chair next to his, to distract her from Jack’s exit. “I may have a tough reputation, Chloe, but contrary to industry myth, I don’t bite. I’d like to talk to you privately.” Kellen wanted her full focus, but he also wanted her to feel comfortable. The waitress—Mindy he recalled—breezed past once again and Kellen caught her eye. “Excuse me, Mindy. Would it be possible to order something to drink?”
“Of course. What can I get for you?”
“Another tonic and lime for me. Chloe?”
The interlude, as intended, gave her a few moments to regroup, but she was still dazed, completely unguarded and unprepared for this meeting. “Umm…ice water works for me.”
“Are you sure you don’t want anything else?” Kellen resumed his seat.
“Positive. I don’t want anything stronger when I feel like I’ve been thrown into the deep end of the ocean.”
He smiled into her eyes and leaned forward across the slight space that separated them. He was charmed by her. A natural reaction, all in all. “You know who I am. I’m impressed.”
“No, actually, I’m the one who’s impressed.” She laced her fingers together and rested her hands on the table. “Anyone with a pulse in the music industry should know who you are. My nervous stumbling aside, I’m very pleased to meet you.”
The comment stunned and delighted him. Full of undisguised awe, her reply stirred a second rush of attraction that wasn’t entirely welcome. Kellen wrote off the response quickly, though. After all, any man within a glance of this woman would feel just the same.
He decided to play into the moment, knowing he could easily pull back.
“Well—now that my ego is sufficiently fed” --they shared a laugh-- “Happy birthday, Chloe.” He extended his business card, the one he had held since being introduced to her, and slid it across the top of the small, dark wood table. Their fingertips brushed innocently when she took possession. She lifted the card and studied the elegant, raised black lettering, fingered the heavy white card stock. But he also noticed the subtle tremble that worked through her hand.
“I’m almost afraid to ask what this means.” Her voice was a quiet murmur.
“Then allow me to verify what you already know.” Kellen went all business and dead serious. “What that card means is you’ve just been given the best present of your life, Chloe. Opportunity.”
She blinked. Joy, he saw, became juxtaposed against terror. “Because?”
“Because you’re talented, and because I believe you deserve a shot. I want to give that to you.”
Laughter, conversations, glassware chiming—the bar sounds surrounded them while Chloe openly searched his eyes. She studied him so deep, and with such intensity that Kellen could do nothing but embrace the silence and let her, maintaining a smooth professionalism he didn’t feel on the inside. His pulse rate climbed. So did a heady, intoxicating roll of heat. The woman was exquisite.
“You honestly came here to see me?”
“I honestly did. And I’m not disappointed.”
Their drinks arrived. She tapped her fingers against the glass, looking down in a flustered way as she slid her hair to the side. But then she looked up and gave him a smile. Kellen felt its impact straight through to the core. “Thank goodness for that much. I’m glad I didn’t know you were in the audience. I’d’ve botched things up for sure.”
Kellen highly doubted that statement. “For just that reason, I operate below the radar until it’s time to make a move. Why unsettle the waters? On the recommendation of my boss, I wanted to see you perform without forewarning or prep. I get a far more honest performance that way.”
For the next couple hours, they talked about everything. She was Ohio born and bred—a singer from the day she could speak. Her preferences leaned toward country blended with a soulful style of jazz. Five years in Nashville had taken her through the doorways of a number of clubs that dotted the District; she had even played The Stage and Tootsies.
Tootsies is where Jack Collins had found her, but now a chic, more high-end atmosphere called—one that was much better suited to her elegant looks and musical style.
She warmed quickly and offered her background details with increasing ease. He appreciated that she didn’t mind revealing herself because his intrigue was absolute, and he wanted to know what he was getting into by representing her. Chloe seemed to understand that without prompting.
Before he knew it, it was almost one o’clock in the morning, and the spell shattered.
I’ll wait up for you.
Kellen double-checked his watch while Juliet’s promising smile, her sparkling eyes, swirled through his mind and prompted him home. “I have to leave.”
Chloe moved back with a nod and a chagrined expression. “I’m so sorry if I kept you.”
“You did no such thing. I’ve enjoyed the time we spent talking.”
“Me, too. I should have been home a while ago myself.”
Boyfriend? Husband? They stood, and his attention darted to her ring finger. Empty. But that didn’t mean much. He’d find out more on that later. “Call my office and let’s set up a formal meeting. Meantime, my team will draw up an agreement for you to look over.”
“I certainly will, and thank you again.”
They walked toward the rear of the club. “Where’s your car?”
“In the parking structure.”
The idea of Chloe walking to her car all alone in a large, empty facility didn’t sit well. “Let me walk you out.”
She tilted her head; he watched a dangling gold earring brush against her bare shoulder. She folded her arms against her midsection and her eyes sparkled. “Are you always so chivalrous?”
Danger flags rose—vivid red and snapping in a stiff wind. Kellen obeyed the signs and delivered a business-like nod that he tempered with a grin. “Let’s just call it looking out for my future investment.”
Her smile only widened. “Let me grab my purse and coat. I’ll be right back.”
Kellen knew that smile of hers was going to haunt him. Big time.
****
Kellen arrived home to darkness and silence.
I’ll wait up for you.
Juliet’s words echoed through his mind and guilt slid in.
Entering from the garage, Kellen walked quickly and quietly through the kitchen. The stove clock read one forty-five. He had never meant to stay at Iridescence so long. When he’d left Juliet, he’d fully intended to make good on his promise to return home promptly.
He removed his suit coat and draped it over his arm. He tiptoed up the stairs to their bedroom, sliding off his tie, loosening the top few buttons of his shirt. No shaft of light cut a line beneath the closed door. Of course she would be asleep by now. Guilt performed its second dance when he eased open the door and crept inside.
Tucked beneath the bed blankets, Juliet slept. He didn’t need the milky, dim moonlight in order to see her. He needed nothing but the memories in his heart to draw the image of her soft, beautiful features.
What had gotten into him tonight with Chloe? He needed to figure that out—but not right now. He needed to pray about it—but the time for that would come later as well—when he was more focused, and rested. For now, he wanted Juliet. With all his heart.
He moved silently to the side of the bed where she slept. He sat down carefully, fingering back the tumbled waves of her silky, auburn hair. He bent to drop a slow, lingering kiss on her cheek, willing her awake, longing for clear, sweet eyes of deep green. He snuggled gently against Juliet’s neck, nuzzling her with soft kisses. She responded by coming alert slowly, turning into the ready warmth he offered.
“Hi,” she whispered in a husky voice.
“Hi.” He backed away just far enough to stroke her sleep-warmed cheeks with his fingertips and cup her face. Any other loose-flung thought or desire promptly evaporated. In Juliet’s presence once more, he was struck anew by the precious connection he shared with her—the wonder of their love. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
She shifted beneath the blankets and feathered her fingertips through his hair. “Was it a successful night?”
Kellen fought the urge to squirm, and he battled back every image he held of Chloe. “Very. I think I’ve found a very gifted performer.”
“I’m glad.” She stifled a yawn and stretched out a bit. “I tried to stay up.”
A craving took over him all at once. He held his wife, he drew her close, and they dissolved into one another, sharing a kiss deep and stirring. Loving Juliet was as beautiful as a dream, and as easy as drawing breath.