Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Danger sipped his C?roc and eyed Zena’s table from the back of the restaurant. It was a cruel irony. Out of all the restaurants in Richmond, Zena had to show up at his.
Danger was the co-owner of Sizzle N Blue’z with his business partner, Garrett. Garrett did a bid in prison for about eight years and had gotten close to Havoc when they were locked up. As a favor to his brother, he gave him the funding he needed to start the restaurant when he got home.
Danger handled all the marketing and behind-the-scenes tasks, but the kitchen was Garrett’s domain. Garrett was a pro in jail, turning food scraps into gourmet dishes. Tonight, however, the food was the last thing on Danger’s mind.
“Why are you staring at that couple so hard?” Garrett asked him as he wiped his hands on his apron. He had been watching Danger for the last twenty minutes, tracking the way Danger stood frozen, drinking and staring.
Danger snapped his head away. “No reason.”
Garrett laughed. “I know that look.” He followed Danger’s previous line of sight across the dimly lit dining room. “She’s beautiful, D. How did you let her get away?”
“I didn’t. I…” Danger tried to explain, but what could he say? Their situation was complicated. One minute, he wanted her, and the next, it was all business.
“One of them ones, huh?” Garret questioned. They had previously discussed his philosophy that a man would get only three good women in his lifetime, and that, depending on how he handled them, he could change his entire life. Danger liked to think he only used two of his three strikes.
Danger nodded in agreement. The more he tried to put his feelings for Zena on the back burner, the more his actions revealed his heart.
“Look, it’s clear you want this girl in your life.
Your eyes say it all. I don’t know y’all’s backstory but take it from me: when I got locked up, I lost the love of my life.
I left her for years, man, on our fucking wedding day.
When I came home, I had to watch her love somebody else, and that shit…
that shit hurts more than anything I’ve ever been through in my life.
Don’t lose out on that one, D. If you don’t act right now, you might lose her forever.
” Garrett patted him on the shoulder and walked away, leaving Danger to his thoughts.
Danger was working on his third glass of C?roc, but the alcohol wasn’t doing a damn thing to numb the burn.
Heat radiated through his body as he threw back another shot.
His hands tingled every time Zena laughed at something her date said.
Every time that man touched her hand, Danger gritted his teeth so hard his sinus cavities ached.
He had recognized the clown she was with as a low-level R&B artist. All that hootin’ and hollerin’ he did on tracks just to get pussy.
He makes “sneaky link” music. He had even reached out to be part of his label before signing with another contact elsewhere.
Danger wouldn’t sign his nasally singing ass to his label, even if he begged for it.
In his mind, Zena could do way better than his ass.
But then again, who was better for her than him?
When they first arrived, he had told the waiter to send a bottle of Moet to table four.
He told himself it was a power move to show he was unbothered, like it would magically make him feel better.
But it didn’t. The pits of his heart ached.
Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was madly, dangerously in love with Zena.
“I gotta get you out of my damn head,” he mumbled as he walked back into the kitchen to seek refuge in the chaos of the dinner rush.
The following day, Danger was in his office, sitting at the desk and discussing business with June, his CFO.
“So, what are we doing about Chi? Do we need to push the album release back?” June asked.
Danger leaned back in his leather seat, rubbing his fingers through his beard.
Chi had violated his probation and was now locked up, possibly facing years.
He had warned Chi a long time ago to tighten up, but Chi did what he wanted, and it was becoming a real problem for the company’s image.
This was the part of the record business he hated: it was almost like babysitting.
“Nah, we proceed as planned.”
“Nah, we proceed as planned,” Danger said, his voice flat. “Drop the lead single next Friday while his name is still in the headlines. Let his legal team worry about the court dates. I’m not pushing back a release date over a probation violation.”
June nodded, tapping her tablet screen to update the master schedule. “Cold, but smart. What about Zena?”
Danger’s fingers froze against his beard.
Just hearing her name made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
He hadn't slept a full hour since that night.
Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the grip of her jaw in his hand, heard the desperate cry of her confession, and smelled that rich shea-butter scent.
“What about her?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he smoothed his expression into a mask of neutrality.
“Yasmin said she’s been locked in the studio for forty-eight hours straight.
She’s cutting vocals like her life depends on it,” June said, looking up with an impressed smile.
“The engineers sent over a rough bounce of track four this morning. D, it’s incredible.
It’s angry, it’s vulnerable... It’s a smash. ”
Danger leaned forward, his elbows hitting the mahogany desk. A strange mix of pride and agonizing guilt swirled in his gut. She’s using the wreckage. Just like he told her to. “Tell the engineers to route the playback directly to my office console. I’ll listen to it alone.”
“Will do,” June said, gathering her things. She made a move toward the door, then stopped, snapping her fingers as if she just remembered something. “Oh, one more thing. Quez called my office this morning. He wants to clear a feature for Legacy on Zena’s project.”
Danger’s eyes narrowed. “Legacy? The R&B group?”
“Yeah. Apparently, Xavier, the lead, heard her track and wants to hop on it.” June shrugged, oblivious to the sudden tension radiating from the man behind the desk. “I told him we’d have to clear it through you first, obviously. It could be good press for her. What do you think?”
Danger’s jaw clenched so tight the bone ached. The image of Zena, his artist, out at a club with another man, another singer who had the freedom to claim her in public, sent a toxic wave of jealousy through him.
Then he thought about the passion mark he had left on her neck just days ago. He wondered if she had covered it up for Xavier to see.
“Danger?” June prompted, frowning at his silence. “Do I tell Quez yes or no?”
Danger picked up a silver pen from his desk, his knuckles burning as he gripped it. He looked out the window, his mind racing.
“Tell Quez no,” Danger murmured. “Nobody works with Zena until I say so.”
When June walked out, his phone buzzed in his hand.
Zena
I need to talk to you
Twenty minutes later, the SUV screeched to a halt in the alleyway behind the studio.
Danger used his master keycard to open the back door, navigating the dimly lit corridors until he reached Zena. Through the double-paned glass of the control room, he saw her.
She was sitting on the leather sofa, her small frame swallowed up by an oversized hoodie. She was staring blankly at her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen, her eyes wide with panic.
Danger pushed the studio door open.
Before he could even say hello, she burst out, “Danger, we have a problem, Xavier… he did an interview with the morning show.”
Danger closed the door behind him, locking it with a soft click. He stood there, tall and unmoving, his pecan-brown eyes locking onto hers. “What did he say, Zena?”
“He’s playing games,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she stood up from the couch, holding the phone out like it was a live grenade. “He started dropping these weird, cryptic hints. He kept dropping the name, Princess Z.”
“He somehow figured it out. He knows about Princess Z. He’s using the interview to back it up. If the media connects my new project to that name, everything we built, my whole past, it’s all going to blow up in my face.”
“Zena.” Danger’s voice broke her rant.
He closed the distance between them in three long strides. He didn’t care about the phone or what the interview had to say. He just saw her shoulders shaking, the terror of her past catching up to her.
He reached down, took the phone right out of her hand, and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
“Go to the car,” Danger said quietly.
Zena blinked at him. “What? Danger, did you hear what I just said? Xavier is going to expose me—”
“I heard you,” he interrupted as he reached out, his hand gently gripping the back of her neck, his thumb soothing the muscle there. “And I’m telling you, I will handle it. Go to the car…It's parked in the alley.”
“Where are we going? I have to finish the song.”
Danger looked down at her. He wasn’t going to let the world tear her down. Not after everything she’d survived.
“Zena, just go. I got you. I promise.”
Zena walked out of the studio.
Danger pulled out his phone to make a call. “Keys…You still got that video?”