Page 27 of Vengeance


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He spotted me and stood up as I walked toward him. “Good morning, Mr. Davis.”

“Good morning, Ms. Wicket.”

We shook hands and smiled at each other. I was likely to faint at any second.

I pointed toward the chair from which he had arisen, all six foot four of him. “Please, sit back down and enjoy the meal.”

“As long as you join me.”

“My pleasure.”

After we both got settled at the table and my juice and coffee were both poured, the maid left us to some privacy. Antonio was surely in a spot to see all, but at least we could speak without him overhearing.

“So you’re with G-Clef?”

“Yes, have you read any of our issues before?”

“Can’t say that I have. You’re local?”

He shrugged and fiddled with the recorder app on his iPhone. “Actually, regional. We’re up-and-coming. Right now, outside of a budding subscriber base of about eight thousand, we’re circulated in Georgia, the Carolinas, Alabama, Tennessee, and some parts of Mississippi and Florida.”

“That’s cool,” I said, picking up a mimosa that had been prepared for me before I sat down. “So how long have you been working for them?”

Jonovan chuckled. “Since its inception.” He paused. “Oh, I forgot to mention that we have a pretty huge digital following . . . to make up for our smaller circulation. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting your time granting me an interview.”

“It’s fine. And I get it; everything worth knowing is primarily in the digital space these days. I’m surprised some of the dinosaur newspapers and magazines are even still around. Some that used to be considered credible, intelligent sources of information have converted into thinly masked tabloids to try to keep readers at all.”

Jonovan agreed. “Exactly! That’s why I started . . .”

I stared deep into his eyes—those sexy-ass eyes. “Aw, so you’re the publisher of G-Clef?”

Jonovan put his index finger up to his lips. “Shh, it’s a secret.” He appeared genuinely concerned. “I can’t believe I let that slip.”

“What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that when some people, especially those on your level of the music industry, find out that the owner of the magazine is basically the entire magazine, they tend to feel G-Clef is beneath them and their brands.”

“That is true, but I beat my own drum at the end of the day. I appreciate all my fans, and especially those in the ‘Durty South.’ I needed a break from the studio this morning and I don’t have to do a photo shoot, so it is a win-win for me.”

He actually blushed when I said that. Good!

“Wow! You’re amazing,” Jonovan said. “I was waiting for you to toss me out of here any second.” He surveyed the area. “I have to say, this estate is the most glamorous one that I’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting. What made you decide to purchase it?”

“Is this the beginning of the interview?” I asked playfully. “I want to know when I am on the record and off the record.”

He pressed the record button on his phone and said, “This is Jonovan Davis, G-Clef magazine and I am here in the A-T-L with none other than the world-famous singer and performing artist Wicket. Thanks for granting me this interview today, Ms. Wicket.”

“Just call me Wicket and you are very welcome, Jo-no-van.”

He shifted in his seat after I took my time pronouncing each syllable of his name. “So let’s dive right in. You recently made the decision to relocate from New York City to Atlanta, Georgia. Could you explain why you made that decision?”

“Technically, I’m still a legal resident of New York State and, of course, I own properties all over the world. However, for the time being, I will be chilling in Atlanta. I like the vibe here and even though I don’t socialize much or do a lot of networking, the people who I have met seem down-to-earth and that is a good thing. Most people tend to be intimidated by me.”

Jonovan cleared his throat. He was definitely one of the intimidated ones. “Do you think it is intimidation or reverence? You have tens of millions of devoted fans and I would presume, if they actually have the opportunity to be in your presence, that they would be overwhelmed with admiration and a feeling of worship.”

I giggled. “?‘Worship’ is an interesting term. Don’t get me wrong. It’s great to be able to do what I am passionate about for a living, but I have no desire to be worshipped.” That was a lie, because I made Glaze and Piece of Shit worship me—their mistress—on the regular. “When I was younger, some friends of mine told me that I was talented and I was blessed enough to have a father who believed in developing it into something unique. If anything I was blessed with a talent from God, the finances to pay for formal voice coaching and the amount of studio time it took to make my first album, and I came into the music industry at the right time with the right sound.”

“Speaking of Mr. Sterling, Richard Sterling, your adoptive father,” Jonovan said. “There has never been a lot of information provided about how that entire thing happened. He adopted you when you were how old again?”

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