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She wanted to wow everyone.
It wasn’t every day a hip-hop act was invited to participate in a true-blue royal celebration. And not just a hip-hop act, but a female artist. Despite her popularity, she was aware that women made up only a small percentage of the industry. She never truly represented just herself; she represented her genre, women in her genre, black people, and then black women. Society saw a lot of bodies behind her, like those mirrors in a fun house. And if she messed up or made a mistake, it wasn’t her own folly. It reflected on all of them. It was hella unfair but that’s the way it was.
She needed the good publicity and press from this trip to overshadow the scandal with Samantha Banks. She couldn’t risk losing Genesis’s interest. This was more than a performance. This affected the rest of her life. And she couldn’t let anything derail her, not even the delicious prince who’d been taking up so much real estate in her brain she should be charging him rent.
She just needed to focus. Preferably on remembering the new sequence of steps. Every time she got to this part, her body wanted to do the old choreography. The choreography she could do in her sleep.
Like she just did!
Fuck!
She scrubbed her hands through her hair, threw her head back, and looked up at the ceiling.
“Rough day?”
She started, surprised to hear Jameson’s warm, cultured tone. Despite her pep talk to herself, heat suffused her body at his appearance.
“Not anymore,” she said, pausing the song.
Then she was in his arms and his lips were on hers and everything was right with the world.
“I see everyone’s gone?” he said, when they finally drew apart.
“Yeah, you just missed the last of them. They’re headed back into the city to hit some pubs.”
“And you didn’t want to join them?”
“Why would I, when I have all the entertainment I could ever want right here?”
“Good answer.” He nipped her bottom lip. “What were you working on when I came in?”
“We tweaked the choreography for one of my songs and my head is having a hard time remembering the changes.”
“Yeah, I can see how that would be difficult.”
“Except I don’t have time for this to be an issue.”
“Come here,” he said, settling on a chair. He pulled her down on his lap. “Maybe I’ve never seen you in work mode before, but you’ve been really intense this past week.”
“This is important.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why is this so important to you? The concert. This event. Don’t get me wrong. This is important to me, too. But you don’t need this or us. You’re one of the most popular performers in the world.”
“Googling me again?”
“You’re not going to distract me this time, though you’re very good at it.”
She sighed. “Have you heard of a singer named Samantha Banks?”
“No. Should I have?”
She laughed. “She thinks so. She’s this up-and-coming pop star who’s decided to take me on.”
“What does that mean?”
