Chapter 23
Darren
After Bailey and I left her music studio, she took us around downtown Memphis to show me different places she liked to go for food, drinks, and shopping. There were too many places for her to choose from, so we mostly observed and moved along.
I liked the vibe of the area. The people seemed pleasant while the atmosphere was chill but always moving, and there were plenty of places to see. If you lived in this area, you would always have something to do after work and on the weekends.
But, like all big cities, there was an overabundance. There were way too many cars on the road, too many people crowding up restaurants and shops, and things were slightly more expensive. I was already growing to like Memphis a lot, but it didn’t change my attitude on how I felt about living in a big city.
We got back to Bailey’s place as the sun was setting. We were both starving, and we decided we didn’t want to wait for something to be delivered to us. She offered to take us out for dinner, and I quickly agreed with the deal that I would pay for each subsequent dinner together after that.
I drove us while Bailey acted as guide. I stopped to fill up her tank with gas and then continued down the mysterious streets. I wasn’t sure where we were headed, but it was fun. She sometimes pointed out a place that she and Leah liked to go to, or a place that played really cool music, or a place she’d always wanted to go to but hadn’t yet. I wanted to take her to some of those places during my stay.
Despite the fact that I got to spend time with the most beautiful girl in Memphis, a girl that I’d dreamed about for years, I couldn’t fall in love with the idea of moving there.
The restaurant we went to was a place called Ramone’s in downtown. It was a quaint little joint that felt like something out of the 1980’s. The lighting was dim, music was fantastic, and the food and drinks were killer.
“Let me ask you something,” said Bailey as she sipped on her first cocktail.
“Uh, oh.” I laughed.
“If you were me,” she said. “What would you do to get famous?”
“I don’t follow.”
“You have a song that’s climbing the music charts, and you’re starting to get some heat. what do you, Darren Holt, do with that heat? Do you pick the first label that comes your way because they could—maybe, possibly, likely but not certain—help you become a well-known artist that makes a living doing that exclusively? Or, do you wait it out, because something better might come along? When do you know that ‘better’ has come along?”
“That’s quite a mouthful.”
“I guess it’s no secret why I’m asking you these things,” she said.
“If I were in your shoes, and people were blowing up my phone, which calls would I take,” I said.
She laughed. “Exactly. Basically.”
“What label is trying to sign you?” I asked her.
“Does it matter?”
“Yeah, it would matter to me.”
“They’re small,” she said. “They only have three major artists that you’d know signed to them and lots of other smaller ones.”
“Well, that’s good, right?” I said. “They’ve got legit clients. Sometimes you get an offer, and you don’t know whether you can trust them. Three major artists, I’d say you can trust them. That’s good.”
“They’ll start to expect releases at certain points, and maybe I’m not going to be in the mood to write at a certain point in my life, you know?” she said. “I don’t really want to have a ‘boss.’ I wish I didn’t have to suffer a loss in my independence to have the kind of freedom they’re offering.”
I cleared my throat, unsure of where I was headed with my speech as I finished my first alcoholic beverage.
“First,” I began. “To answer your original convoluted question; if I were you, I wouldn’t make a major decision like the one you’re weighing based on a time restraint. I know you need to make up your mind here soon, but their goal is to make money. Your goal is to make a life from this, not just money. So, make sure it’s the right one.
“Second, you don’t need to sign with those producers. You don’t need to sign with any producers. You can make your own music without any help whatsoever. You got your radio plays while dropping your tracks independently, right? You have already found phenomenal success by yourself. Maybe you need a major label—maybe you don’t.
“The problem is, there aren’t any guarantees in anything. You always take chances in life, and sometimes things don’t work out the way you think they will or want them to. But, if you don’t try things because you’re afraid of the bad that could come of it, you’ll never try anything.”
I felt a little preachy, but she seemed to have digested everything I gave her smoothly.
“How’s your social media presence?” I asked her. “I don’t really follow much of that stuff.”
“I have over 100,000 followers on Twitter and half a million on Instagram,” she said. “I get a lot of plays on music apps, too.”
“See, you’ve already carved yourself an identity for people to get to know,” I said. “If you keep releasing independently, you’ll get to be whoever you want to be. They can’t tell you how to act, or what to wear.”
“Or what to sing,” she finished.
“Exactly,” I said. “If you have to debate this much with yourself over it, don’t you think that kind of gives you your answer?”
She smiled, biting her fingers as she continued digesting my words.
“If I were you, I’d dominate the world all by myself,” I finished.
We got refills of our drinks and our bread bowl. We were listening to the music being played over the speakers. It was a techno song that I’d heard before but couldn’t place the title.
“Where are we headed after this?” I asked her. “I saw a bakery near here. I’ll get us some dessert.”
“Actually, I was thinking of taking you back to my place and fucking your hot cock.”
Hearing her utter those words was enough to stiffen my cock instantly. I realized, at that exact moment, that was exactly what I wanted, too.
“Oh, were you now?” I asked.
She finished the rest of her drink. She gave me a piercing, sexy look.
“I want to dominate you in bed,” she said quietly.
“Believe me, I’d like that too,” I said eagerly. “But, I never agreed not to fall in love with you. Are you sure it’s a good idea to keep having sex?”
“It’s probably a terrible idea,” she said. “But, I don’t give a shit. I want you so badly, and I thought I could wait a while, but I don’t want to wait one night. Let’s get back to my place and make love.”
I looked around for our waiter. We laughed, growing more aroused by the minute.
“If we aren’t careful, we’re never going to leave your apartment,” I said.
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
“Not at all, I’m just saying that if we aren’t careful, I’m not going to want to leave your apartment. Being in that bed, with this woman, far away from home. I’ll tie your fine ass to the bed.”
“Oh, will you now?” she said with amusement.
Our waiter finally returned to our table. We didn’t notice him at first.
“We never did try much of that really kinky stuff,” I said to Bailey.
“Have you ever been handcuffed?” she asked me.
“A few times.” I chuckled.
“Will you guys be having any dessert tonight?” the waiter interjected.
Bailey and I laughed.
“I think we’re good, thanks,” I replied.
We drove back to her place in silence. Although no words were being said, our body language communicated things clearly, as far as I was concerned.
The lust between us was palpable. We didn’t touch, but the desire was there. Our mouths were agape and Baily was biting her bottom lip, clearly allowing our fantasies to get the better of us.
We got out of the car and made our way from the parking garage up to her room. I let her lead the way, and I was watching her sexy ass as she walked.
I thought back to what I said during dinner about falling in love. I thought about the hard truth that I’d been ignoring, poorly, and about how she most likely wouldn’t have found it much of a secret.
I couldn’t fall in love with her during my trip, because I’d fallen for her a long time ago and hadn’t stopped. There was no woman I’d ever wanted more than her, and I was oddly okay with it. I wasn’t sure what the future had in store for us, but I wasn’t worried. The fact that she wanted me in Memphis with her was enough for me.
We got back to her place. The apartment was very dark, with little streams of light coming in through the windows. I waited for her to turn on the lights inside, but she just kept walking.
“Have a seat on the couch,” I heard her say in the dark. “I’ll be back.”
I wasn’t sure what she had in store for me, but the intrigue was enough to stifle my hard truths. I would continue trying to hide my feelings.
I sat down on the couch, waiting. Several minutes passed, and she’d barely made a sound. Occasionally I could hear footsteps, but I didn’t know what they were up to.
“You remember the PJs I always wore over to your place for the longest time?” she asked through the darkness.
“Sure! Beatles T-shirt and the purple pants with flowers on them.”
“You are correct, sir!” she said. “Sadly, I lost my glorious Beatles shirt at some point a few years ago. I haven’t had the heart to get a new one.”
“Oh, bummer.”
My sadness ended abruptly. Bailey stepped toward me on the couch with no shirt or bra on, wearing the purple floral pants. The subtle light hit her body just right. Her voluptuous, soft breasts were practically glistening in the moonlight. Her tummy looked skinny, and her lips looked delicious.
“And,” she said with a hint of satisfaction. “The pants have a pretty big hole in them. Take a guess where.”
She climbed into my lap, wrapping her legs around me, and pressing her beautiful chest into mine. She ground her hips and ass into me, surely feeling me growing for her.
“Oh, Darren,” she moaned. “Take me.”
She took my hands and guided them to her bouncing breasts. To say that she was coming on hard to me would’ve been an understatement. She actually was craving dessert.