Excerpt from Lady Blue
Lady Blue
By: Judy Bagshaw
Chapter One
"and now, let's give a big 'Spats' welcome to our very ownSabrina Blue!" Sabrina stood in the wings as the final pre-show flutter of butterflies sent a wave of adrenaline coursing through her curvaceous body. As she stepped on stage the applause washed over her like a warm hug.
She picked up the mike and looked out at the packed house. The low-ceilinged room was dark and filled with a haze of smoke. Physical distinctions were blurred behind the stage lights, the sensation like looking out at a dreamscape. As voices quieted in anticipation, other sounds became clear; the clink of ice against glass, a throat being cleared, the scrape of a chair, a scolding hush, the whisper of nylon near the stage as a pair of legs crossed. Sabrina bided her time waiting for that magical moment when the sense of expectancy was its most potent. There! She smiled and signaled the band. A sigh of pleasure rose from the audience. This was what they came for.
It was always like this on the nights she sang at the little blues club. In the five years she'd been performing at Spats she'd developed a loyal following. It could be said that Sabrina Blue was a minor celebrity in the tight musical circle in which she worked.
She hadn't always been a singer. Up until that fateful decision almost five years ago, she had been an ordinary housewife and mother with a dream, a dream she thought would never be realized. Yet here she was, waiting for the opening bars of tonight's first number, an eager group of patrons waiting to hear her sing.
"Night and day, you are the one" Her rich contralto filled the room. At five feet eight inches, with waist length black hair and startling blue eyes, she would have been considered unusual by any beauty standards. But added to this was the fact that she tipped the scales at two hundred and fifty pounds. This was no willowy sylph-like creature. This was pure woman, earthy, sensual, a real presence.
Sabrina stood tall and straight, her figure a pleasing balance of top to bottom. High shapely breasts and full rounded hips clad in her signature sapphire blue had caused more than one male customer to think licentious thoughts. Her hair was loose, hanging down her back in large soft curls. The fringe of hair hiding her forehead made her eyes seem all the more startling in their intensity, not that the audience could see her eyes once she started to sing. For when Sabrina sang her eyes were closed and she was lost in her own world.
This had always been her escape. She could close her eyes and sing songs about troubles of the heart and soul that were written by some tortured songwriter. She'd had her own share of troubles, but for these moments on stage, those troubles were far away.
* * * * *
Guy Latimer sat in the dark of the club, stunned by the sheer brilliance of the performance he was witnessing. Sabrina Blue was a genius! And he should know. He had made his reputation on knowing genius when he saw it.
His ability had first manifested itself with his discovery of the alternative rock band, Razor Sharp. They became an overnight sensation hitting almost instant gold and setting the trend in music for the next three years. Guy became known as the producer with the Midas touch. His next find had been Angelique Sand, a sexy young African-American woman with a voice like smooth dark chocolate. She was still sitting at the top of the charts and just signed a major movie deal. The future was Guy's.
Guy's production company, King Midas Inc., was now the biggest in the country. At 38, he had everything he had ever wanted in life. He was rich, successful, popular and in demand. If he perhaps felt a little lonely from time to time, he ignored it. He had married once and that was enough. He'd discovered that women craved his money and his fame, not him. His divorce had been an expensive lesson, as had his experience with tabloid journalists.
He turned his thoughts back to the singer on stage. Sabrina Blue. Catchy name, It would market well. He let himself get swept up in her voice again.
"lover man, oh where can you be"
She closed her eyes when she sang and held the mike close in both hands, almost caressing the metal. Her hair was a glorious black waterfall down her back and across her shoulders. It was so long. She must almost sit on it. Her lips were full and sensuous. Kissable lips. The beaded batwing dress that fell to the floor and was slit on one side to mid-thigh showed an enticing expanse of leg. The keyhole neckline teased with its seductive show of cleavage.
Guy shook his head. What was he doing fantasizing about a singer who was nowhere near his type? He liked tall, slim, leggy blondes. Sabrina Blue was tall, sure. But she was so big, so curvaceous. Granted, she was well proportioned, not unlike Marilyn Monroe had been, and elegant. Yes, elegant and majestic. There was grace in the way she swayed sensually to the music. Her skin looked so soft and smooth. It was pale contrasted against her dark hair. It would probably feel like silk.
Guy Latimer, you're losing it! He endeavored to focus on the magical singing but kept being pulled back to the singer. What was it about her that was so compelling?
At last her set was finished and Guy moved purposefully to where she sat with a group of enthusiastic fans. He told himself it was a purely business move--the need to sign her before a competitor did. But a disturbing thought haunted him that perhaps another kind of need was at work.
"Excuse me, Miss Blue," Guy started and then was struck dumb as a large pair of brilliant sparkling blue eyes looked up at him.
"Yes?" Her speaking voice was as deeply modulated and full as her singing voice. She was looking at him with curiosity. He felt like a schoolboy, awkward and foolish.
"My name is Guy Latimer," he said at last, handing her his card. "I wonder if I might have few moments of your time. Could I perhaps buy you a drink?"
"Well, Mr. Latimer," she said, glancing at his card. "I don't drink, but I'd love a cup of coffee." For some reason he felt as if she had just given him a gift. They moved over to his table.
"I enjoyed your show very much, Miss Blue," he began.
"Sabrina, please, Mr. Latimer," she said.
"Of course," he said, suddenly choking on his words as he basked in her warm smile. "And you must call me Guy."
"How can I help you, Guy?" she asked. His name sounded so nice coming from her lips?
"I'm a producer, a music producer." He was stumbling over his words like a fourteen-year-old. "Perhaps you've heard of Angelique Sand? I discovered her." Why was he trying to impress her?
"I see," she said. Did she?
"I have a proposition for you," he said.
"Oh?" Ice seemed to frost her speech. "Just exactly what kind of proposition?"
Guy reddened. "Oh, no, what I meant was I was very impressed with your performance this evening and wanted to talk to you about the possibility of recording with you."
Sabrina sat very still and Guy thought that perhaps she didn't understand what he was offering.
"That's very kind of you," she said finally. But her voice was tight, her words clipped. "But I'm afraid I'm not interested in a recording career. I'm very happy with what I do. Now, if you'll excuse me," she pushed back her chair and stood, offering her hand in farewell. "I really must get back to work. Enjoy the rest of the show. Good-bye Mr. Latimerer--Guy." With that she was gone.
For the second time that night, Guy was stunned. She'd turned him down. He'd laid a recording contract at her feet and she'd...Of all the...Anger filled him at her summary rejection. She had treated him as if he had been nobody. Who did she think she was? Fueled by pique, he chased after her, catching her at the foot of the steps leading to the small stage.
"Just one minute," he said, taking hold of her arm to stop her. With cool regard, she glanced at the hand on her arm. Embarrassed suddenly, he let her go.
"Yes, Mr. Latimer?" she said in quiet tones.
Guy was uncertain now. Damn, but she made him feel stupid! Anger welled again.
"Why did you run off like that?" he said. "You didn't even listen to what I had to offer."
"Of course I did," Sabrina said. "You offered a recording deal. I declined. Is there something more?"
He felt color fill his face. Why was this so difficult? He had wheeled and dealed for years and never felt so unsure of himself as he did facing Sabrina Blue.
"Could you at least help me understand why you would reject an opportunity that most people would jump at with gratitude?"
"I feel no need to explain my decision to you," Sabrina said, her chin raised indignantly. Only a slight wobble in her voice betrayed an underlying nervousness. "If I choose not to pursue that option in my career, it is my choice, and neither you nor anyone else have the right to question it. Last time I checked, it was a free country!"
"Is everything all right, honey?"
Guy watched as Sabrina threw a grateful look at the intruder. He was a natty little man in a flashy suit and he stood close to Sabrina, on guard.
"Yes, Dex," Sabrina said, smiling gratefully at her friend. "I was just getting ready to go back to work." Turning back to Guy, her face again a composed mask of cool indifference, she said, "Nice meeting you Mr. Latimer. Please, enjoy the show." With a last look at Dex she was gone. Guy could only watch her exit in disbelief.
"So what was that all about?" the natty man said, suspicion in his voice and on his face.
"Who are you?" Guy asked rudely. He was still stung by Sabrina's dismissal. He was used to gratitude and joy from aspiring musicians, not dismissal.
"Dex Randall, owner and manager of this here establishment," Dex said, puffing up with pride. A frown appeared on his face. "I'm also Sabrina's friend and don't like to see her bothered."
"I wasn't intending to bother her," Guy said by way of explanation. "I'm Guy Latimer."
"The record producer?" Dex thrust his hand out. "Why didn't you say so?"
Guy smiled. He just had, hadn't he?
"Let me buy you a drink."
Guy followed Dex to a private table. He took a long gulp of the drink Dex placed in front of him. Sabrina had rattled him and he needed the calming effect of alcohol.
"So what can we do for you, here at 'Spats'?" Dex said, pulling his chair close to Guy's as if they were about to engage in business dealing together.
"I've been hearing rumbles for a few months now about an amazing new singer in town," Guy explained. "You know how it goes. Somebody tells somebody else who tells his or her cousin who has a friend in the mailroom of my office. That sort of thing. The name Sabrina Blue kept crossing my desk. My gut told me that there was something behind the rumbles. I learned a long time ago to listen to my gut. I decided it was time to check out Miss Blue. And she is completely amazing-- astounding even."
"Don't I know it," Dex said.
"So, without hesitation, I am prepared to offer her the chance to record with my King Midas label."
"I'll be damned!" Dex said, sitting back hard in his chair.
"You can say that again," Guy said, frustration tingeing his words. He watched as the subject of their discussion emerged from back stage and talked with the piano player. "She's not the least bit interested. I don't understand why. It's a logical step for her to make in her career and it's being offered to her; she doesn't have to pursue it. Most people would be ecstatic. What's the matter with her?"
"Not a damn thing that I can see." Dex said wistfully, also watching Sabrina prepare for her next set. "She knows her own mind, man. She ain't easily swayed neither."
"Sounds like you have first hand experience," Guy said.
"If Sabrina said no, she means no, okay?" Dex sounded gruff. "You best just let it drop."
"I'm not in the habit of letting golden opportunities pass me by," Guy said firmly. "Miss Blue is the single most exciting singer I have heard in years and I intend to sign her to a contract. It's the best thing for her career."
"Don't you think that's for Sabrina to decide?" Dex said with equal firmness.
"Does she know what she wants?" Guy asked, sourly.
"You can bet on that," Dex said through gritted teeth. "And I suggest that you just leave my friend alone, okay?"
"That sounds like a threat," Guy said, one eyebrow raised in amusement.
"Take it any way you like," Dex said, standing and shoving his chair hard against the table. "Just leave Sabrina alone!"
Guy watched the flashy little man stride across the bar to the stage. Frustration boiled in him. It was enough that Sabrina had turned him down flat. Now her little pit-bull pal had warned him off. It was laughably melodramatic.
He watched Dex wait to the end of Sabrina's song, then gesture for her attention. She leaned over the edge of the stage and listened solemnly to Dex's tirade. When he finished, she stood slowly and gazed across the room until her eyes met with his. Guy felt the chill of her annoyance pierce through him. Why? Why was she so angry with him when he had offered her the chance of a lifetime? And why was he so angry at her refusal? In disgust, he stood, threw some bills on the table and left Spats.
* * * * *
Sabrina watched Guy leave the club. A deep sigh of relief erupted from her. She hadn't been conscious of holding her breath.
Guy Latimer's effect on her had been electric. When he had first approached her, she had been uncomfortably aware of his height, his broad shoulders, his even white smile and deep fathomless eyes. He was handsome, the kind of handsome you see in late night black and white movies, clean-cut, debonair, self-assured. She had admired his athletic physique clad in expensive gray silk, the suit emphasizing wide shoulders and slender hips. A crisp white shirt, open at the throat offered a teasing wisp of chest hair. She had been completely rattled for a moment, and it frightened her. She had learned the hard way not to be led by emotions. And so, she had clamped them tight and presented a cool and controlled façade to the man.
It was lucky he wasn't clairvoyant or he would have been surprised at the rush of sheer elation that had filled her at his offer of the recording contract. And he would have been puzzled at the equally strong flood of dread that immediately followed. He didn't know that she was a fraud. He didn't know that she was living a lie, hiding from a past she was terrified of catching up with her and her son. With the greatest effort she had hidden all of these conflicting emotions from him and politely declined his offer.
But he wouldn't let go. He almost seemed angry. Blast it all! What was it about men that they couldn't stand not to get their own way? It was so immature, so arrogant, and so predictable. Well, to hell with him, to hell with them all. She didn't need any of them.
Then why was it that a pair of fathomless dark eyes hung in front of her, taunting her, daring her to tell the truth?
Chapter Two
"If he shows up again, I'm ready to fight. Nobody, I mean, nobody forces me into something I don't want to do!" Sabrina said, and then in a smaller voice, "Not any more." She had slept little the night before as the whole episode with Guy Latimer replayed itself in her mind.
"Nobody's trying to force you, honey," Dex said in a soothing tone. The two sat in the deserted club, sipping strong coffee and discussing Guy's visit.
"He kept pushing me to explain myself, Dex. You and I know why I can't get into a high profile recording career, but I couldn't tell him that."
"Yeah, I guess." Dex said. "It's such a rip that you have to turn down such a great offer just because of that jerk you were married to."
"Shhhh, Dex!" Sabrina looked around to see if anyone could hear them. "Be careful, will you?"
"Sorry. It just ticks me off."
"I know." Sabrina patted Dex's hand. "I appreciate your support, really I do. But Devin still doesn't know about his dad and I want to keep it like that. I don't want him tainted by the past--a past I've--we've left far behind."
"What's left behind?"
Sabrina jumped at her son's voice. "What are you doing down here?" she asked, glancing at her watch. "It's eight. You should be getting ready for school."
"It's a school holiday, Mom, remember?" Devin looked at his mother as if she had lost a brain cell or two.
"Oh, that's right, I forgot." Sabrina pulled Devin into a hug and kissed his cheek.
"Mom! Jeez!" Devin protested, glancing at Dex and wiping the offensive wet spot off his cheek. "I'm not a baby you know!"
"Don't I know it," Sabrina sighed. "Eight years old and not needing his mom anymore."
"Cut it out, Mom," Devin said, drawing a chuckle from Dex.
"Yeah, he's growing up all right," Dex said, ruffling the boy's hair, and playfully punching him in the shoulder. "He's getting to be a lady killer like his Uncle Dex."
"Ooo, gross, Uncle Dex," Devin said with a grimace. "Girl's make me hurl!"
"Devin Blue!" Sabrina said.
"Except you, Mom," he said with a grin. In revenge, she kissed him again.
"So what were you talking about just now?" Devin asked. Sabrina reflected that her son didn't miss much.
"Your mother got offered a record deal last night," Dex said.
"Dex!" Sabrina was alarmed.
"Really? Sweet!" Devin looked at him mother with new interest. "You should do it, Mom. You're an awesome singer. You could be famous, like Madonna."
"Slow down, sport," Sabrina said. "I turned it down."
Devin looked disappointed. "How come?"
Sabrina glared at Dex. He looked uncomfortable at having opened this particular can of worms.
"Well, for a couple of reasons," Sabrina said, scrambling to come up with something convincing. "I'm happy here at 'Spats'. I like my contact with the audience, especially an audience made up of regular fans. It feels comfortable, like a favorite pair of shoes. And remember I'm a partner here. I couldn't leave Dex doing all the work of running the business while I ran around getting famous. It wouldn't be fair. The time just isn't right. Maybe someday."
A warning glance at Dex ensured he kept his mouth firmly shut. Devin pondered his mother's words.
"I guess I see what you mean," he said. "But it sure would be awesome to have a famous mom."
"You'll just have to put up with the un-famous one you've got," Sabrina said. She gave her son a playful whack on the rear. "Now off you go and have a bath. I'll be up in a minute and make you breakfast. Then we'll make some plans for the day. How does that sound?"
"Cool! See ya Uncle Dex," Devin said as he raced out of the lounge.
"See you, buddy!" Dex yelled. He turned back to Sabrina and said, "That went good, eh?"
"No thanks to you!" Sabrina was furious. "Why did you have to mention the record contract?"
"I'm sorry, honey," Dex said. "I guess I just lost my head for a second. I'm just so damn proud. You know I think you're the most in the singing department. I just had to brag to the kid, that's all. It won't happen again."
"No, it won't," Sabrina warned. "It's dangerous Dex. Dangerous for me and for Devin."
"I said I was sorry," Dex said. Hurt was evident on his face. "You know how I feel about you both. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to either of you."
Sabrina's expression softened. "I know, Dex, I know," she said, patting his arm. "You are such a good friend."
In fact, Dex had been her salvation.
One afternoon five years before she had stumbled into 'Spats', the thunderstorms outside rivaling the one raging inside. She smiled, remembering those first impressions of Dex. Short, flashy, in constant motion. Sabrina had been reminded of one of her son's wind-up toys that banged a drum frantically and spun in erratic circles.
Dex had been on a rampage, pacing the near empty club, the phone clamped to his ear. The clientele that were in the place were riveted by the mini-drama.
"What do you mean, she ain't coming back here? I've got a contact with the bleached blonde bimbo! If she doesn't come back, I'll make sure she never gets another gig in this town! Singers are a dime a dozen you know! I've already placed an ad!" He paused and listened, then erupted into his shouted dialogue again. "She's dreamin'! I'd never make a play for a skinny little twig like her! That's what she's mad about. She came on to me and I turned her down! Ask her! Go ahead, ask her!" His face contorted and he shrieked, "Ah, same to you, you moron!" He slammed down the receiver.
"Can you believe it?" This directed to the bartender. "That was her agent. He says that I hit on Cindy and that's why she wants out of her contract; something about sexual harassment. Harassment, my foot! I'm glad she's gone. She's nuts! Singers! They're all a bunch of loonies."
Sabrina had been watching this little scene with amusement. The bartender cleared his throat meaningfully and tilted his head in Sabrina's direction. Dex turned and noticed her standing quietly at the bar. The anger in his eyes evaporated to be replaced by a visual caress.
"Hey, honey," he said with a charming smile and an openly appreciative once-over. He nodded toward the bartender. "What can Lennie here get for you?"
"Nothing, thank-you. I don't drink," she said, momentarily thrown by the little man's advances. "Actually--um, I'm Sabrina Blue. And you are?" She extended her hand, which he shook with vigor and held for a beat too long.
"Dex. Dex Randall. Owner and manager of this here establishment." Pride filled his voice.
"Mr. Randall. I'm actually here looking for a job."
"Well, honey, I don't need waitresses right now. And call me Dex."
"I'm not a waitress, Mr. Randall."
"Dex. Call me Dex." He brazenly took in her full figure again. "Then what do you do?"
"I'm a singer," she said, barely able to keep the laughter out of her voice. The bartender choked his own back. Dex looked momentarily flustered.
"Oh," he said. "I, ah, hope you didn't take my little tantrum seriously. I was just ticked at that bi...uh, at Cindy for leaving us in the lurch, so to speak."
"I understand," Sabrina said, smiling her most winning smile.
"You sure are a pretty one," Dex said, shaking his head and making a soft whistling sound.
"Why thank you." Sabrina couldn't help herself. She liked the guy, even if he did come across like a used car salesman.
"It's pretty unusual, that black hair with blue eyes," he said.
"It's the Irish ancestry coming out," she said, enjoying the unaccustomed attention.
"So, what kind of singing do you do?"
"Blues, old standards, torch songs, some pop ballads, that sort of thing." In truth, Sabrina would have sung the phone book if it meant steady work.
"Tell you what," Dex said, reverting to sales mode. "I'll try you out tonight. If you impress me and the crowd, you're in. Okay?"
"Okay," Sabrina felt her pulse racing, as her dreams were about to come true. "And thank you."
"No honey, " Dex said with a wink. "Thank you."
Sabrina blinked, her reminiscing interrupted by fingers snapping a few inches from her nose.
"Hey, where'd you go?" Dex waved his hand before her eyes.
"To the past," she said taking a sip of her coffee.
"Thinking about--you know?"
"What? No." She put her cup down and smiled fondly at her friend. "I was just thinking about the first time we met. Do you remember?"
"Hey, sure do. Luckiest day of my life!"
"I was so desperate, so lost and there you were. You hired me, gave us a place to live, and lent me money to get started. You've been--you are the best friend I ever had." Sabrina swallowed the lump of emotion that had filled her throat.
"Ditto, Brie," Dex said, taking her hand.
"And here I am, imposing on that friendship again."
"It's no imposition, " Dex said. "You know how I feel about you and the kid."
Sabrina looked wistfully at Dex. "Yes, I do, and I feel guilty that I can't give you the relationship that you want"
"Hey, forget it," Dex said gruffly. "I realized a long time ago that I'm not the right kind of guy for a lady like you. No, don't interrupt. It's true. I'm happy to be friends and business partners. It's enough. You need someone more like that Latimer guy"
"What!"
"Classy, successful"
"That's ridiculous. I've never heard anything so--" Sabrina sputtered. She stood up. "I have no interest--Guy Latimer is--I'd better go get ready for my day with Devin." She turned and quickly exited. Her heart was pounding and her face felt hot. She had just managed to make a total fool of herself with Dex, and over what? All he'd suggested was that Guy Latimer was her type.
What was wrong with that?
