Chapter 13
“THAT’S THE BEAUTY OF MUSIC.”
O rielle discovered that stepping fully into her purpose meant being prepared for all the blessings that would pour in.
The saying ‘Stay ready so you don’t have to get ready’ had never made as much sense as it did now. Although she shouldn’t have been surprised, she was taken aback when Zahir called her directly to schedule a meeting. Orielle expected his assistant or someone to reach out, but that wasn’t the case.
Zahir was a very personable man, and anyone he brought on his team knew that.
He was the one who would be working directly with Orielle, so getting acquainted with him happened before they sat down to discuss anything.
With a booked schedule and days slipping away from him, Zahir didn’t have time to sit with Orielle until months later.
The way her life was set up, Orielle didn’t think it seemed like that long of a wait.
Timing was of the essence. Plenty of talent came across his desk, but there was a difference between someone being talented and someone having a divine gift that would make them a star. In Zahir’s world, that’s what mattered the most.
There were a million talented folks out there, but who was truly ready to put in the work?
Did they want their name to hold weight long after they were gone, or did they want to be that one person who did such and such that no one could really remember?
Zahir could always tell on a first encounter just from a person’s conversation.
Orielle was the type of person who wanted it bad enough.
As she stepped into one of the offices inside the Maven Talent Agency building, her eyes lit up.
She smelled the ambition and money in the air.
Wealth had a distinct smell to it. The matte black walls with gold accents were lined with platinum plaques, and elevator music floated from hidden speakers.
She tucked a curl behind her ear and adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder.
“Rielle Summers?”
She turned at the sound of her name being called and was greeted by the receptionist.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Nice to meet you. You can follow me to the conference room.”
She nodded and took quicker-than-usual steps so she could keep up. The receptionist was walking like she had somewhere to be. They approached a glass door, and she pulled it open.
“You can go right in. Zahir will be with you shortly. Feel free to get comfortable.”
Orielle nodded and stepped inside. Her eyes traced the walls full of accolades from artists dating back to the eighties.
She recognized names from a few on her playlists, and even the names of those who used to be in the Quiet Storm commercials.
MTA had long, residual money, and Orielle was highly impressed and ready to work.
Zahir entered the room a minute later. His presence filled the space before he could even speak.
“Hey. How’s it going?” he asked, pulling out a chair to sit.
Orielle smiled and did the same. “Hi. It’s going.” She chuckled.
“No need to be nervous. Did you have trouble finding the office?”
“Not at all. Everyone was so helpful.”
Zahir nodded. “Good. My apologies for not getting back with you sooner. It’s been hectic these last couple of months. My brain and schedule are already on next year.”
She blew out a tense breath. It was only April. “Sheesh. I need to get like that.”
Zahir chuckled. “Nah. Not yet. I don’t need you stressed out.”
With a baby on the way, Zahir had already set time aside for the rest of the year to be off.
Sovanna wasn’t a single mother, and he wouldn’t make her feel like one when their baby girl arrived.
She’d give him some pushback, but Zahir was ready to make her a stay-at-home wife and mom. She loved her job too much, though.
“That’s true,” Orielle agreed, smiling. “When we last spoke, you said you’d had a chance to listen to my music.”'
Zahir nodded. “Yeah. Your earlier hits and the newest EP. That sound right there is what the people love. That raw shit. Excuse my language.”
Orielle waved him off. “You’re good. You’re keeping it real with me. Thank you.”
“Of course. We can get straight to it then,” Zahir said, sitting back in his chair.
He was so chill with it; Orielle couldn’t help but smirk.
“I want to take you on as my client. Your sound is one I don’t come across often, and I’m not letting you slip through the cracks. I know as an independent artist, you’re used to doing everything on your own, but that will change.”
Zahir saw the relief leave her body as her shoulders loosened. From day one of taking her singing seriously, Orielle had done it all. The mixing and mastering, the composing, the singing, the ad-libbing, the marketing, the songwriting, the bookings, and so much more.
She should’ve hired an assistant a long time ago, but it was hard delegating tasks to others when it came to her work.
Anything attached to her name, she didn’t play about and would lose her shit if someone played with her.
How was she supposed to make her best music behind bars?
Knowing her man, he’d help her figure it out and still hit the charts. Najee didn’t play about her at all.
“That would give me so much time and energy to focus solely on the writing,” Orielle concluded.
“Most definitely. You can still tap into the other areas, but you don’t have to. That’s what you’ll have a team for. I’m assuming you don’t have an assistant.”
She shook her head. “Nope. Not yet. I’ve used a virtual assistant before, though.”
“How was that?” Zahir asked.
“Eh. It was okay. I’m more of a hands-on, meet me in person kind of girl, so it didn’t last long.”
“That’s understandable. We have a few on the team who can take on duties. We tell artists to test a few out until they find one that aligns with their morals and not just their schedule. Everyone isn’t meant to work together.”
Orielle knew that was the truth. “I love that. Do you manage any other female R you did.
I already knew I was signing you on my flight home from Houston.
Out of respect and the sake of professionalism, I had you pull up so you really knew who was representing you. ”
Orielle blinked, unsure if she heard him right. “You already added me?”
“I did. I don’t take clients I gotta convince to be great. You’re already doing the work. Been doing the work. Now, I’m here to multiply it.”
Her throat tightened with emotions from the sheer relief of being seen... again. In this case, heard. Sovanna let him hear one song through one of her AirPods while they sat in first class, and he drafted an email to his team. Orielle was so overwhelmed with gratitude.
She had been going hard for so long and wondered if anyone beyond her followers even noticed her. They had, and now Zahir was going to make it his mission to make sure the world knew who Rielle Summers was.
“I guess I should start planning then,” she said, smiling.
“Absolutely. Not just for the showcase, but for your life to undergo a major change. After today, your reach, your catalog, your audience, shit, even your hair won’t be the same.”
She gasped. “But I love my curls,” she said, placing her hand over them as if Zahir had a pair of scissors in his hand.
“Not your natural hair; the ginger persona.”
Orielle slowly lowered her hands. “Oh.”
Zahir wasn’t going to get into it right now, but he could tell she was trying to hide something behind the wigs.
“You can still protect your voice and show the world the real you,” he suggested.
“No more separating the art from the artist then, huh?”
“In this case, no. But it’s no pressure. That was just a suggestion. Your fans gon’ feel you and the music regardless of what you look like.”
“As long as I keep giving them music.”
Zahir smirked. “Exactly that.”
Orielle nodded slowly as the severity of this moment settled in her chest. Just last year, she told Cash that singing was just a hobby. The moment she stopped treating it like one and stepped out on faith, her entire life had changed.
She’d asked God what her identity was in this season of her life, and He showed her. The power of trusting Him and herself on this journey had been one of the most rewarding thus far. Orielle didn’t know why she had ever doubted what was already laid out for her.