Chapter 3
Chapter Three
It was as if the room held its breath as she sang the first note.
Her voice was a little shaky at first, but it was raw.
Unfiltered.
Danger raised his glass but didn’t take a sip.
Instead, he watched the singer with admiration.
Her voice sliced through the room and settled in his chest, as if it belonged there.
As she continued singing, a shiver ran through him.
Every note was flawlessly crafted in her voice.
He had never felt so alive or so deeply connected to a song, as if she were singing straight to his soul.
“Damn,” Havoc muttered beside him. “Baby girl could sing her ass off.”
Danger nodded, eyes still locked on the stage, fascinated by the singer.
He took her in as she sang her heart out.
In addition to her beautiful voice, she had a swagger he liked.
The spotlight highlighted the different parts of her smooth, mahogany-colored skin.
She wore a cropped leather jacket, a white shirt, skin-tight black pants, and Dr. Martens that were planted on the stage as she owned it,
He scanned the audience; from their faces, he knew they felt it too.
Each one of them savored the notes that left the singer’s lips.
It wasn’t every day you ran across someone who was a real vocalist, the type of talent that could move an audience with words.
Hell, he believed she could probably move mountains with that voice. Shit was so rare.
Her sweet melody ended, and the crowd roared with applause. Danger rose from his seat to give her a standing ovation. By the time she exited the stage, he was already moving towards it.
“Don’t,” Havoc said, his arm cutting across his chest before he could move any further.
“I just need to talk to her.”
Havoc’s jaw tightened. “Not this shit again.”
“I’ll be back.”
He straightened his jacket and slipped through the crowd before his brother could finish the sentence.
They’d been having the same argument for two years, ever since he returned from Cali with a head full of ideas Havoc dismissed as delusions.
Havoc was comfortable. Danger understood that.
But in their line of business, being comfortable would only end one of two ways… dead or in prison for life.
Making his way through the crowd, he reached Nate, who stood near the bar.
“NateDog, wassup?” Danger greeted Nate with a dap.
“Same shit. Thank you again for the idea. Lucky’s has been packed damn near every night of the week.”
It had been Danger’s idea to host live music after hearing about Nate’s difficulty drawing a crowd during the week. Lucky’s was popular on weekends, but he wanted to offer a little more to diversify the club’s offerings.
“Your fancy degree has paid off,” Nate remarked.
Danger had recently earned an MBA from the University of Virginia. While most of his peers were gearing up to join Corporate America, he was focused on building his legacy.
“Fo-sho. Quick question. The singer… where can I find her?”
Nate raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean Zena. I’m sure she’s in the back, starting her shift. I can send her to your section if you’d like.”
“Appreciate that.”
Danger returned to his table, sipped his drink, and waited for her. Havoc had wandered off, which was fine.
After about ten minutes, she reached his section, notepad in hand, with a smile on her face. Her stage outfit was gone, her leather jacket swapped for a Lucky’s apron, her long, natural hair pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head.
“Hey, are you ready to order? I see you already have drinks,” Zena said with a wide smile, showing off her perfect teeth. Her smile was warm and contagious, and Danger found himself returning one.
“I think we should start with how fast you got off that stage, sang like that, and made it back here fast enough to take wing orders.”
“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
Danger studied her, completely in awe. Up close, she was striking, with high cheekbones, big pouty lips, and doe-shaped eyes that sparkled under the fluorescent lights in the section.
“Was that your first performance here?”
She nodded.
“Your voice is mesmerizing. It’s like your voice makes my brain happy. Like my own personal dose of dopamine.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you doing anything else with it? Outside of here?” His eyes trailed around the club.
“Singing doesn’t exactly pay the bills yet.”
“What if it could?”
She paused for only a second before responding. “Then I wouldn’t be here making minimum wage.” She clicked her pen. “Do you need more time to look at the menu?”
“My name is Dmitri, but I go by Danger.” He leaned forward slightly so she could hear him clearly over the music. “I’m building a label. I’ve been looking for the right voice, and I just heard it. I want to offer you an opportunity.”
“Do you always scout talent in nightclubs?”
“Only when I find the right one.”
“I’m sorry. You seem like a nice guy, but—"
“Before you say no,” He reached into his jacket and set a card on the table between them. “I have a studio space downtown that I use from time to time, but I’m also closing on a building on Brookland Park Boulevard, the old theater. Six, seven months or so. Come check me out.”
She nodded, picking the card up from the table and sliding it into her apron without looking at it.
“I’ll think about it.” She flashed a weak smile, then turned to leave, moving on to the next table.
He sat with his drink, watching her work and interact with the other tables.
Her energy was so magnetic that it pulled people in.
He knew, just from those simple interactions, that she had a good heart.
A pretty girl with a big heart and even bigger voice.
He was sure she would go places even if she didn’t go there with him.
Before he knew it, an hour had passed, and she still hadn’t returned to his section.
A coworker came by to bring him his check instead.
He got her message loud and clear. Instead of dwelling on the situation, he settled his tab, pulled two hundred from his wallet, slid the bills under his glass, and walked out into the night with his brother.