41. Now we have a plan… almost
NOW WE HAVE A PLAN… ALMOST
R ae came barreling out of the airport like a human hurricane, her blonde short hair and red glasses unmistakable from any distance. She moved with purpose everywhere she went.
Spring was relieved to see her best friend and closest ally. If this documentary was going to be successful, Rae needed to be involved.
“Look at you,” she said, dragging Spring into a hug before her suitcase even hit the ground. “All Hollywood. All mysterious. All freshly-dicked.”
Spring laughed into her shoulder. “I picked you up, didn’t I?”
“That just means you’re functional,” Rae said. “Note you said nothing about the freshly-dicked part.”
Spring rolled her eyes as they walked toward the car, Rae already scanning the city like she was clocking exits. “So, where am I staying?”
“Airbnb,” Spring said. “Downtown.”
Rae stopped short. “ Downtown downtown?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I see you, sis. You got that Universal Studios money now.”
Spring smirked. “For your information, I’ve had money, I’ve just been pretending I don’t.”
They tossed the bags in the trunk and pulled out of the lot. Houston stretched wide in front of them – flat, familiar, humming.
After a few minutes, Rae glanced over. “So, still stayin’ with your dad twice a week?”
Spring kept her eyes on the road. “I needed space to work on the documentary.”
“Bitch, who do you think you lying to?”
“It’s not dramatic,” Spring said, then sighed. “Okay, it’s a little dramatic. I just – being in his house feels… heavy. We see each other more now that I don’t live there. Shorter visits. Cleaner conversations.”
Rae nodded slowly. “Okay, boundaries. This growth looks good on you.”
Spring side-eyed her. “Don’t gas me up.”
They pulled up to the Airbnb – a modern place with big windows and too much natural light.
Rae whistled when they walked in. “Oh, this is cute-cute,” she said, spinning once. “This says ‘woman with unresolved trauma but excellent taste’.”
Spring dropped her bag. “I needed neutral ground.”
“Mmhmm.” Rae leaned against the counter. “Now, how often are you and Preston playing mattress monsters? ’Cause I’m not gettin’ any, and if this is gonna be a nightly thing, I should probably get my own spot.”
Spring scoffed loudly. “First of all – it’s not like that.”
Rae’s eyebrow went up. “You not getting your back blown out?”
“Okay, but we haven’t crossed that line in a while,” Spring said, defensive without meaning to be.
Rae just looked at her.
Spring folded. “Okay. We crossed it. Yesterday. And today.”
“Today?” Rae repeated. “You are such a hoe.”
Spring rubbed her face. “I know. What is wrong with me?”
Rae tilted her head. “You nasty. But I love you anyways.”
Spring sank onto the couch. “I don’t know what it is. I just got divorced. My dad is… my dad. Preston is everywhere. My feelings are loud. I can’t tell what’s grief, and what’s want, and what’s nostalgia.”
Rae softened then, sitting beside her. “So you called me.”
“Yes,” Spring said. “Because I need my second set of eyes. You don’t get distracted by the music or the history, and right now I know I’m compromised. ”
Rae smiled. “I get distracted by bullshit. Which is helpful.”
Spring nodded. “Exactly. I need you grounded. On set. In the room. Asking the questions I won’t.”
“And keeping you honest,” Rae added.
Spring looked at her. “Please.”
Rae bumped her shoulder. “Girl, that’s what I’m here for. I got you. We’ll do this clean. Professional. No messy feelings.” She grinned. “Emotionally devastating, but clean.”
Spring laughed, tension easing just a little. “Thank you for coming.”
Rae stood, stretching. “Of course. Now, show me the schedule. And tell me everything I missed – especially the parts you’re pretending don’t matter.”
Spring grabbed her notebook and they got to work.
By the time they settled in for the night, Spring was feeling better already. She’d been hot and cold with Preston, over something she was afraid to label.
Rae was already dressed when Spring woke up, ready to begin working.
She stood at the foot of Spring’s bed in black trousers, a fitted tee, and her glasses perched low on her nose like she’d been born wearing them.
Her short blonde curls were styled into that soft, intentional chaos that took entirely too much effort to look effortless.
Nails clean. Hands steady. Camera bag zipped.
“You have five minutes,” Rae instructed. “Ten if you stop pretending you’re not excited.”
Spring groaned into the pillow. “It’s barely morning.”
“And greatness does not wait for REM sleep,” Rae replied, already heading toward the door. “Get up.”
Downstairs, Rae did a final check in the mirror – straightened her collar, smoothed her hair, inhaled like she was stepping into court.
Spring watched her with a small smile. “Jetlag not hitting you?”
Rae shrugged. “Adrenaline. And the fact that I’m about to watch Preston Cole work.”
Spring rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, too. They got in the car and headed to the studio, which was already alive when they arrived.
Musicians were in motion, engineers nodding to rhythms only they could hear. Coffee cups everywhere. The hum of cables, soundboards, anticipation.
And then – Preston.
He was in full swing. Sleeves pushed up, headphones half on, singing like the room owed him silence.
Rae stopped walking, her grip on the camera loosening. “Oh my—” she whispered.
Spring barely had time to react before the camera slipped from Rae’s hands and clattered softly against the floor.
Rae froze.
Everyone froze.
“I—” Rae said quickly, scooping it up, mortified. “I’m so sorry. I don’t— this never happens. I swear I’m a professional.”
Spring tried not to laugh.
Preston turned, and then he saw Spring.
Something shifted. Not the song – his focus.
He kept singing, but now it was aimed. Intentional. Every word landing in her direction like they had been waiting for her to walk in.
Never felt like this before,
You are all I need and more
I believe you’re all I’ll ever need.
Spring felt her smile before she realized it was happening.
It wasn’t performative. It wasn’t even flirtation. It was recognition.
Rae stood frozen beside her, hand pressed to her chest like she’d been struck by something holy. “Oh,” Rae breathed. “Oh, sweet baby jesus.”
Spring leaned over. “Behave.”
Rae didn’t hear her.
When the song ended, the room stayed quiet for half a beat – then murmurs. Approving nods. Someone whispered, “That’s the one.”
Preston took off his headphones, finally looking at them both.
Rae stepped forward immediately, composure gone, eyes shining. “Hi. Hi. I just— wow. That was— wow. You are so fine. I didn’t mean that. Well, no, I meant that because it’s true, but I didn’t mean to say that part al?—”
“Rae,” Spring barked. This was not the Rae she knew.
Rae extended her hand, then pulled it back, then extended it again. “I’m Rae. I’m—technically here to help document you, but spiritually, I am overwhelmed.”
Preston laughed, warm and easy. “Nice to meet you, Rae.”
Rae exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for years. “You are… significantly more dangerous in person.”
Spring groaned. “I brought you here to work.”
“I am working,” Rae said, not taking her eyes off Preston. “I’m working through my feelings.”
Preston glanced at Spring, amused. “She always like this?”
Spring smiled, soft. “No, it’s all you.”
Rae finally snapped back into herself, squared her shoulders, and lifted the camera. “Okay. Reset. Professional mode.” She paused, then added quietly to Spring, “I get it.”
Spring didn’t respond, just shook her head.
The cameras rolled. And for the first time, Spring felt it – the gravity of standing inside a moment that mattered.
Preston stepped closer, voice lowering like the room didn’t deserve to hear his words. “So… did you like the song?”
Spring didn’t hesitate. “I love the sound. It’s you, but freer.”
He smiled, the kind that showed relief before pride. “Someone special helped me unlock it. Helped me see that I was carrying music like a weight instead of a compass.”
She nodded.
“And once I stopped blocking myself,” Preston went on, “everything started coming. The melodies. The words. I haven’t felt this clear in years.” He paused, searching her face. “This might be my best work.”
Before Spring could answer, Rae gasped – full body, no restraint. “Oh my damn,” Rae blurted, already pulling her phone out. “I have to tell Gina.”
Spring snapped her fingers. “Rae.”
Rae froze, sheepish. “I know, my bad. Professional discretion. I just—” She gestured helplessly toward Preston. “This is a lot of man.”
Preston laughed, but his eyes flicked to Spring. He saw it – the calculation, not jealousy. Understanding.
“This is how things leak,” Spring reminded her.
Rae winced. “I didn’t mean?—”
“We’re good,” Spring said, already stepping back. “Excuse me for a minute.”
She turned away before either of them could stop her.
Down the hallway, Spring leaned against the cool wall, breathing through it. Not because she was upset, but because she could feel the machine starting to move. Momentum. Attention. Risk.
Rae followed her outside. When she got close enough, Spring caught Rae by the elbow and pulled her into an empty corner near the soundproof booth. “Rae,” she hissed. “Get it together.”
Rae blinked, still dazed. “I know, girl?—”
“You are supposed to be my extra set of eyes ,” Spring said. “Not over here losing your mind. We’ve done background assignments tougher than this. Remember when we had to keep it cool at that BET Awards greenroom with half of Atlanta in one hallway?”
Rae waved a dismissive hand. “I know, girl, and you know celebrity status has never bothered me, but that was different.”
“How?” Spring demanded.
“Because that is Preston motherfucking Cole.”
Spring closed her eyes. “Rae.”
“He smells like Black excellence and shea butter,” Rae continued, unbothered. “Like a man who moisturizes and reads liner notes. The finest man I have ever seen with my own two eyes. And did you hear that song?”
“Rae.”
“And the way he was singing it?” Rae leaned in, whisper-shouting. “Girl, I ain’t gonna lie to you: I might have a slight cleanup situation downstairs, if you get what I’m saying.”
“Rae.”
“I’m just saying—” Rae pointed between them. “He wants you . I know I called you a hoe earlier. Bitch, now I’m saying be Santa. Ho ho ho?—”
“Goddamn it, Rae.” Spring finally snapped her fingers in Rae’s face. “This is what he does. People are drawn to him, and they lose objectivity. I need you locked in on this one. Professional.”
Rae straightened instantly, hands up. “I know, girl, I know. My bad. You right. Laser focus.” She took a breath, adjusted her jacket, pushed her shoulders back like she was stepping into court. “…But also,” she added quietly, “that man is built like a Zulu God.”
Spring sighed despite herself. “You are impossible.”
Rae grinned. “I gotta get it out my system.”
Spring shook her head, fighting a smile. “Okay. Cameras up. Eyes sharp.”
Rae nodded, fully locked in. “Professional mode activated.” She paused, glanced back toward the studio, then whispered, “Still though. Whew.”
Spring walked off, muttering, “I swear I cannot take you anywhere.”
Rae followed, smiling to herself.
They came back into the main room together.
Preston was leaning against the console, towel over his shoulder, that calm-after-singing glow still on him. He looked up first, eyes flicking between them. “We good?” he asked.
Spring nodded. “Yeah. We’re good.”
He smiled, relieved. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she repeated, firmer this time.
Before either of them could say more, the studio door flew open.
Mack burst in, arms wide, energy loud enough to fill the room. “We back, baby!” he boomed. “I’m talkin’ all the way back. New Motown. I feel it in my spirit.”
Spring barely had time to blink before Mack was already pacing, hyped. “Nairobi, you hear Preston’s latest joint yet?”
She nodded. “Yeah. We just heard?—”
“Nah,” Mack cut in, pointing. “Not that one. The one he did this morning.”
Spring frowned and glanced at her phone.
7:38 a.m.
She looked up slowly. “What time did you start?”
Preston scratched the back of his neck, half sheepish, half proud. “Uh… inspiration hit around three. Band got here about four. We just started rockin’.”
Spring exhaled, the frustration hitting her all at once – not at him, but at the fact that she missed it. Missed the raw moment. Missed the spark. “That’s incredible,” she said honestly, then added under her breath, “and also a nightmare for continuity.”
Rae, who had already lifted the camera, didn’t even look up.
“You’re Macknificent Townes,” she said. “I... pleasure to meet me. I mean you. I’m Rae.
I mean I’m Rayelle. Rayelle West. But they call me Rae.
But you don’t have to call me that. Whatever works the best for you, I’ll answer to. I’m flexible.”
Spring shot her a look, half gratitude, half don’t you dare fan out again .
Mack laughed. “Rae? Oh, you’re Spring’s right-hand woman. Nice to meet you.” Then, as if summoned by the word woman , the door opened again.
Talia Cole walked in.
She was dressed sharp – pressed pants, clean lines, hair laid just right. The kind of woman who walked into a room and made you sit up straighter without knowing why.
Rae froze again. Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “Oh my—” she started.
Spring felt the shift immediately. Rae’s energy spiked, vibrating like she was about to combust.
Before Rae could fully lose herself, she caught Spring’s expression – and pulled herself together.
She stepped forward, professional smile snapping into place.
“Hi,” Rae said, holding out her hand. “I’m Rae.
I just want to say – before I go completely invisible – that I am a huge fan.
Your voice? Historic. ‘Kiss in the Springtime’ raised me emotionally. ”
Talia laughed, warm and surprised. “Well now, thank you, baby.”
Rae nodded once, decisive. “Okay. It’s great to meet you. And you have really good genes.” She looked over at Preston while shaking his mother’s hand and repeated “Really good.” She mimed zipping her mouth, then lifted the camera and took two steps back. “I am now furniture.”
Spring let out a breath.
Preston caught her eye, amused. You okay? written all over his face.
She gave him a small nod.
Mack clapped his hands together. “Alright, family. Let’s work. We catching lightning today.”
As the room reset – mics adjusted, instruments tuned – Spring watched Preston move back into position.
He looked tired. Inspired. Alive.
And for the first time that morning, she realized they were in the eye of the storm of Preston Cole.