Collaboration (33 page)

Authors: Michelle Lynn,Nevaeh Lee

And I love you so

Trace bends down and rests his forehead on mine. “I love you, Peaches,” he whispers, his microphone at his side.

“I love you, too,” I respond as he takes me into his arms and kisses me like there aren’t millions of people watching.

Epilogue

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this ‘fuck my life’ attitude that permeated everything I said and did. Losing my parents while they were serving others seemed like the ultimate slap in the face from God and the Chicago ghetto taught me I was pretty much on my own. However, the night of the MTV Video Music Awards when I lost Dre, almost lost Taryn and my boys, and could have lost my own life, made me see that I wanted off this first-class flight to Hell. Not that I had a ‘come to Jesus’ moment, not even close, but for the first time in my life, I can appreciate what I have and know exactly what I want.

What I have is a family. Though the only blood relatives that matter are now gone, I have a family in every way that counts. Stella has become as close to a mom as the one I lost and always serves as my voice of reason, even if it is through Motown hits. And the moment on the red carpet when Jay told me to take care of Taryn even at the possible expense to my career, I knew without a doubt that he was on my side. He might have a piss-poor way of expressing it most of the time, but he’s got my back…not unlike my dad if he were here.

Cal, Marcus, Xavier, and Quinton are the brothers I never had and have rallied behind me through the loss of Dre. Every last one of them, to include Jay and Stella, came with me when I started my own record label and if that doesn’t show dedication, I don’t know what does. Backlash Records was a safe bet and we all took a risk leaving, but they didn’t have the safety net of millions of dollars if my little venture failed. No amount of money would ever be enough to repay them for believing in me that way.

Fortunately, that skinny rapper with a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas, the one who Taryn and I met on the Promenade in Santa Monica, ensured that we’ll all be making bank. He has become me and I’m happy not to be him. Hopefully, someday he’ll lose the anger and attitude too and figure out that life’s too short for that shit.

As for what I want, well that’s easy. I’ve already got the job of my dreams and now it’s time to get the girl of my dreams.

“Peaches?” I ask as she answers her phone. I hate communicating through electronic devices when we’re in the same city, especially after all of those months we spent apart. Never again though. Thankfully, both of our touring days are over. We made a decision to start TNT Records together and now she focuses on songwriting and developing our country artists. The only time I ever saw her
this
happy was when she was indulging a young fan with a photo or autograph, and though the unwanted media attention has decreased significantly, I don’t see her fans forgetting her anytime soon.

“Yeah, babe?” she asks, sounding distracted.

“Everything okay? We’re still meeting in ten minutes, right?” I ask, sounding as thoroughly whipped as I am. Pussy-whipped, my boys would say, but only because they like to give me hell. They love her like a sister and know that she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Which is why nothing can go wrong today…

“Yeah, I’ll be there. See you then…bye babe,” she says and hangs up before I can respond. Shit, what could be bothering her? The tabloids all but ignore us now that we’re not in the spotlight, and because of the multi-million dollar lawsuits bleeding the life out of the worst offender for contributing to the death of my cousin.

Maybe she’s stressed about filling up our newly purchased penthouse with furniture. God knows I don’t know shit about decorating so I’ve been happy to leave that all on her plate. It might be too much though with all that’s going on at work and plus, don’t they have people you can pay to do all that for you?

Whatever it is, I’ll make it alright and if I can’t, I’ll make her forget whatever she’s stressing about as we continue our christening of every last square inch of our home. And for once, I’m comfortable calling someplace “home.” Neither of us ever felt that way about Los Angeles, so when it came time to start our own label, we decided we could do it wherever we damn well pleased, so we came here. Fortunately, the rest of our team liked the idea of a change in scenery and joined us, though I have a feeling some might head back to our smaller office in LA after the first winter hits. I’ve lived through Chicago winters but Taryn might be begging us to head back to the beach too, once the temperature goes below freezing. You can take the girl outta Texas…

Honk!
Shit, these cabbies are relentless. Now I know why I take private cars everywhere and will after today, but I want to stay on the down-low as much as possible and a yellow cab seemed liked the best way to do it. Fortunately, we’re at my stop and I can feel my pulse racing as I hand the guy a twenty and hop out onto the sidewalk.

I look around and make my way toward a park bench to wait for my girl, sitting next to an old man who looks like he wouldn’t know either of us if we were related to him. Probably a safe bet. I think about how Taryn and I will look when we’re older, and though I know she’ll be just as gorgeous to me with gray hair, I can’t help but smile when I spot her walking toward me with those beautiful strawberry-blonde locks that I swear are made of silk.

As soon as she nears, I get up and wrap my hands around her body, eager to erase that anxious expression on her face. Not wanting to give the old guy a free show or generate any unwelcome attention a public make-out session might bring, I take hold of her hand and lead her through the park entrance.

“Why are we going here? I thought we had a lunch meeting with that indie guy, and aren’t we already late?” she asks.

“Shortcut,” is all I say, desperately wanting to kiss her but knowing we need to keep moving since someone is waiting on us.

As we walk, I take in the perfect early summer day, thankful that the temperature is perfect and not too hot. Up ahead and a short distance from the path we’re currently on, I see Cal leaning against a tree, a huge smile on his face. The girl that he’s been dating since I’ve known him is from the East Coast so yeah, he’s a happy guy. As I’ve come to find out, when your girl is happy, everybody is happy.

Though he’s hard to miss, Taryn must be lost in her thoughts because she startles when he calls out to her.

“Hey, Cal…what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be heading out for a vacation. Marley is going to have your hide,” she scolds teasingly.

“Leaving today. Just a few things I wanted to wrap up,” he says, throwing me a wink.

“Oh, well I can wait while ya’ll talk or you can come with…wait, what’s all that?” she asks in confusion, pointing at the incredible spread Stella set up.

“Thanks, Cal,” I say, giving him a fist-bump, “have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

He doesn’t even respond to that, but just walks away, laughing his ass off. I chuckle too, thinking that there isn’t anything I’ve done that Cal hasn’t either seen or known about, so that probably was a dumbass thing to say. But he and I both know I ain’t about that life anymore. The girl standing right next to me with the most adorable confused expression on her face is
exactly
what I’m about.

“You remember when you told me what you always wanted to do if you had a day to spend in Central Park?” I ask, pulling her toward the extra-large blanket covering a plush area of grass, shaded by an enormous tree, and, not coincidentally, overlooking a lake glistening in the midday sun.

“Well, now we live here and can spend lots of days exploring every acre of this park, but I specifically remember you mentioning a picnic by a lake,” I say, kneeling down on the ground and bringing her onto my lap.

“But what about the meeting?” she asks, always the professional. God, I love this woman.

“Well, we are going to have lunch,” I say, indicating the big-ass basket a foot away from us with all of her favorites, Oreos included. “And if you’re looking for a meeting with an indie guy, well baby, I’m as independent as they get. No LA execs telling me what to do. I call the shots these days.”

She raises that perfect eyebrow at me and I kiss her luscious lips before correcting myself, “And by that, I mean that whatever the boss lady says, I do.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she murmurs and then kisses me again, but this time our tongues tangle and I’m lost in her completely. Or finally found, is more like it. I’ve never felt this complete, this whole, and even though I know I could live without her, I don’t ever want to.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my iphone and Taryn pulls away from our kiss. “Are you really going to make a call…right now?” she asks suggestively, rubbing her hand up my thigh.

“Hell no. But before we eat, I wanted you to hear something.”

“A new song?”

“Yup, let me know what you think,” I say, finding the one I’m looking for. When the first notes of my man Jason Derulo’s
“Marry Me”
begins to play, Taryn’s face shifts from confusion to almost immediate shock. I clear my throat, but only to keep from laughing, and then I start to sing with only the instrumentals.