Grown(48)

Daddy’s and Mom’s heads snap at me and I give an approving nod.

“It’s all right. Derrick . . . is a friend.”

Louie takes a relieved sigh, clutching his chest with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry. Figured a little humor would lighten the mood. Especially after everything you’ve been through.”

I squirm in my seat. “You know?”

He shrugs. “The music industry is small. We hear things.”

“So everyone knows?”

He sets down his glass. “I mean, I don’t know exactly what happened with Korey. I’ve heard about his . . . taste in the past. Everyone has.”

“And y’all just allow it?” Mom says, hands on her hips.

“He makes RCA millions. It’s easy for them to ignore and bury whatever stories may come up. Christ sakes, the guy is a rock star! Known all over the world!”

Mom shakes her head in disgust. “Just a bunch of grown men letting another grown man chase after children! Cowards!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Louie says.

“Well, we’re waiting until she’s up to it to go to the police,” Mom says. “We don’t want to put her through any unnecessary stress yet. But maybe we should go now.”

“I’d hold off on that. Just for the time being.”

“Why?” Daddy snaps. “I want that fool behind bars, so I’m not tempted to kill him.”

“I’ma keep it real with you. Your daughter’s dream is to be a star. If you go to the police, labels will blackball her. She won’t stand a chance. It’ll be some little girl’s word against Korey Fields. But if we build up her name, it’ll be Enchanted’s word against his. That holds more weight.”

I sit back as it hits me. “You still want to be my manager?”

He smirks. “Well, I didn’t come all this way for the limeade, which is delicious, by the way.”

“Even after everything?”

Louie shrugs. “Call me crazy, but all I know is I have a daughter your age. And I would kill a man for . . . well . . . if my kid had the amount of talent you had, I’d just about bleed dry trying to make sure everyone in the world knew it.”

I chew on my inner cheek, tossing the idea back and forth. The thought of singing again both scary and invigorating.

Louie leans forward, his expression serious. “Enchanted. Don’t let that asshole snuff out your dreams. Success is the best revenge.” He looks at Mom and Daddy. “We’ll get the son of a bitch. It won’t be easy, but you have my word.”





Chapter 61


Shine Bright




“OK, you’re up next.” Louie holds my shoulders. “Ready?”

I nod in the dressing room mirror, admiring my own makeup job. I look like . . . myself. Fresh baldy, lip gloss, a little mascara, and some hoop earrings. Mom lent me one of her smaller-fitting dresses, short boots, and a leather jacket.

Music thumps from the stage outside. The narrow green-room of the Apollo Theater smells of perfume and all-purpose cleaner.

But I’m happier being here than anywhere.

“I . . . don’t think this is a good idea,” Mom sputters behind me, almost hysterical. “Maybe we should wait. We shouldn’t be doing this!”

Louie’s mouth drops.

I jump from the makeup chair, taking both of her hands. “Mom, you promised! You promised we weren’t going to let what happened stop me.”

“Yes, but I meant you can still go to college.”

“That was your dream, not mine.”

Mom shifts on her heels, eyes wide and glassy. “This all . . . seems too rushed,” she says, bottom lip trembling. “We just got you back, now we’re throwing you back into the spotlight.”

“But this is where I want to be,” I beg.

“This is a small showcase,” Louie insists. “Just to get her feet wet. Get her back in the water. Only a few artists. Nothing major.”

“She’s not ready!”

“I’m fine. Really!”

Mom gathers me in her arms, her tears trickling down my jacket. I can sense her spiraling and try to hold her close.

“I failed you, baby. If I was more of one of those stage moms . . . if I had paid attention to what you really wanted, if I was there, with you . . . none of this would’ve happened. If I didn’t work so much or if I was a better mother. Then maybe . . . maybe . . .”

I hug her and whisper, “You were exactly what I needed you to be. I’m fine, Mom. I swear.”

She searches my face then nods, kissing my forehead.

“OK. I’ll be right here, waiting.”

The lights are blinding. I haven’t been onstage in weeks, but the moment my hand touches the mic, it brings me to life, the two-ton truck on my chest lifted.

I snap my fingers along to the rhythm and give a dazzling smile.

“Ba ba bada. Ba ba bada . . .”

At first, when Louie suggested Beyoncé, I immediately cut him off. But he made a great point. We needed to show audiences that I’m versatile, youthful, and have range. So I picked a song that has an old-school vibe but kicks it hard—“Love on Top.”

I spin around, dancing across the stage, the audience clapping along. Despite everything, I feel free. Like flying again. I missed the stage. Missed the rush of adrenaline that comes with it. A different type of high . . . until I see him.