The Love Lyric (The Greene Sisters #3)

Prologue

Angel didn’t really know anyone at this party.

That had more or less been the norm since he’d left small-town Georgia behind for Los Angeles, where everyone seemed to know everyone, and he stuck out like a sore thumb. Even after four years of having a Los Angeles address, his Southern accent felt too strong and noticeable. His clothes weren’t trendy enough. He was a needle in a haystack of talented, beautiful people. It was hard not to fear that maybe he wasn’t anything too special, and maybe he shouldn’t have abandoned his gospel roots to pursue a career in R & B. Or that sex music , as his mother liked to say.

Tonight, however, Angel wasn’t at a party in Los Angeles. He was at a wedding hall in New Jersey because his new stylist, Violet Greene, was having an “anti-wedding” party to celebrate the dissolution of her engagement.

An anti-wedding party was exactly what it sounded like. Guests had been told to wear all black. On the makeshift stage, Karamel Kitty, a popular rapper and another one of Violet’s clients, rapped into the mic. Violet was there in the middle of the crowd, her brown cheeks flushed red as she rapped along. Violet’s ex-fiancé, Eddy, had been Angel’s previous manager. After Violet discovered that Eddy had cheated on her two weeks before their wedding, she’d called it off. But instead of canceling the venue and the catering that they’d already paid for, Violet had decided to throw a party.

Cheating scandal aside, Angel hadn’t been too crazy about Eddy from the beginning. Eddy was a terrible communicator and had always put Angel on the back burner in favor of his bigger clients. After Angel discovered how Eddy had cheated on Violet, he’d fired him because he didn’t want a slimeball like that on his team. Luckily, Angel’s record label had quickly paired with him a new manager who actually seemed like she might be able to help Angel’s career progress. His label had also set him up with a physical trainer and enrolled him in dance lessons. He was working with the hottest new producers for his debut R & B album. His team wanted him to be the next big star of his generation. After almost half a decade of struggling to be noticed in the industry, Angel was finally beginning to feel hopeful that his R & B career might actually take off.

After Karamel Kitty finished her set, the DJ switched to the Electric Slide. Angel smiled as he looked around at the sea of unfamiliar faces, Violet’s family and friends on the dance floor. Here, Angel felt less self-conscious about his outfit: a basic black button-up, black jeans and a pair of black Vans. Violet had officially taken him on as a client only two weeks ago, and they hadn’t yet had their first fitting. He hoped she’d be able to fix his image and help him appear less boy next door, less like a twenty-five-year-old who’d lived the majority of his life in a sheltered bubble.

He walked toward the dance floor to join the Electric Slide, eager to strike up conversation with someone instead of standing alone, hovering on the outside. When he glanced toward the bar, he spotted another person he knew: Violet’s younger sister, Lily. She leaned against the bar, looking a lot like Violet with her heart-shaped face and glowing brown skin. He and Lily had spoken before at Violet and Eddy’s engagement party a few months ago. Violet had attempted to set him and Lily up, but the vibe with Lily had immediately, and mutually, felt platonic. And he was pretty sure that Lily had a boyfriend now. He walked over to say hello.

“Hi, Lily,” he said as he approached.

Lily turned to him, blinking in surprise. “Hey, Angel.” Her face broke into a warm smile. “How are you? I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He smiled too, shrugging. “I took Violet’s side in the breakup. Eddy wasn’t a good dude.” The last time they spoke, Lily had told him that she was an editor of nonfiction books. “Are you still working on books about dictators?”

Lily laughed and shook her head. “Thankfully no. How’s the album coming along?”

“ Great. I’ve been collaborating with this new producer who—”

Abruptly, Angel trailed off as his attention was caught by a petite woman in a short black dress, who was making a beeline toward them. Dark lipstick painted her full lips and shimmer lightly decorated her Cupid’s bow. Her light brown eyes were lined in black liner, and her short hair was slicked down. A black rose was tucked behind her ear. Her hips swayed as she approached them. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t frowning either. Her even expression was somewhere in between.

Angel blinked, trying to conjure words to finish his sentence. What had he been saying? He had no idea. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop staring at this beautiful woman.

“I think Karamel Kitty’s lyrics are going to give Great-Aunt Portia a heart attack,” the woman said to Lily, leaning her elbows against the bar top. Her voice was low and sultry. She took a sip from the drink beside Lily and she glanced at Angel. The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. “Hello.”

Angel’s heart began a heavy gallop in his chest. The pounding traveled to his throat and hands. Belatedly, he realized she’d greeted him and he was too busy gaping at her to answer. He wished he was smoother, but thanks to that previous sheltered life of his, he had no game to speak of, and despite his best efforts, his game hadn’t improved in LA.

“Hey, what’s up,” he said, stumbling over his words. “What’s good?”

“Iris, this is Violet’s friend Angel,” Lily said. “Angel, this is our other sister, Iris.”

Iris. Even her name was beautiful.

Iris gave a slight tilt of her head. “You’re the musician.”

“ Yes .” He blinked in disbelief. She knew him? “You’ve heard my music before?”

He wasn’t getting any major radio play yet, but some of his SoundCloud songs were still floating around, and of course there were the songs from his gospel days.

“No,” Iris said simply. She returned her attention to Lily. “Calla’s sitting with Mom. I’m going outside to get some fresh air if anyone’s looking for me.”

Without another word, she walked away. Angel stared after her. The black rose slipped from its place behind her ear and landed on the ground. Unaware, Iris kept walking.

“It was nice seeing you again, Lily,” Angel said, already moving to retrieve the rose. His voice sounded like it was coming from far away. “I have to…go check on something.”

A ghost of a smile lingered on Lily’s lips as she watched him. “Nice seeing you too.”

Angel scooped the rose from the floor and jogged to catch up with Iris. He didn’t know what propelled him. Maybe he wanted to make up for his fumbling attempt at conversation, or to apologize for gaping at her so openly. Or maybe it was something else. His parents and other people from his old church had often talked about otherworldly, divine interventions. The heavens or angels leading people to make decisions that made sense only in retrospect. Angel didn’t know if this was one of those situations. But he felt moved by some kind of unnameable force as he held Iris’s rose in his hand.

Iris walked into the hallway and made a left turn toward the exit. As she pushed the door open and stepped outside, she tripped over the threshold. Angel broke into a run and caught her at her elbows before she tipped completely forward. She let out a gasp as she fell backward into him. She turned her head and glanced up at him with wide, startled eyes.

“I’ve got you,” he said, holding her. He helped her stand upright and she kept her hands grasped in his as she wiggled her foot in her loose heel.

“Thank you,” she breathed, pulling away once she regained her balance. “I assure you that I’m not a clumsy person. It’s these shoes.”

He looked down at her strappy black heels. They were at least five inches tall, but she reached only to his collarbone, which let him know that she was much shorter than him normally.

“They’re Violet’s,” she said, grimacing at the shoes. “She believes that beauty is pain. I wanted to wear flats, but she threatened to kill me.”

Angel laughed. “They do look complicated.” His hands were still buzzing from holding her. He remembered the rose. “You dropped this back inside.”

“Oh.” She reached for the flower. The petals were slightly bent from when she’d grabbed his hands to break her fall. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” There were a few other partygoers milling outside, talking and smoking. The sun was beginning to set, and Iris’s honey brown skin glowed. He wondered if she had come tonight with a date.

“I guess I’ll have to look forward to her threats soon too,” he said. At Iris’s confused expression, he clarified, “Oh, I mean Violet. She’s my new stylist.”

“Don’t worry. She won’t kill you since you’ll be paying her.” Iris smiled a little, the corner of her mouth hitching up a millimeter. “She’s amazing at her job. You’re in good hands.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen.”

What else could he say? Think, think.

“What do you do for work?” he blurted, then winced. It was such an LA question.

“I work at a makeup company,” she said.

Despite having a younger sister whom he was very close to, he knew squat about makeup. “Really? That’s cool.”

Whack, so whack. He was blowing this. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though. His roommate, Ray, liked to joke that while Angel could easily reel in women thanks to his face, he often ruined his chances once he opened his mouth.

“And you sing?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do,” he hastened to say, grateful that she’d given him a chance to redeem himself. “What kind of music are you into?”

“All kinds,” she said. “R & B. Soul. Pop, Afrobeats. Soft rock on occasion.”

“Soft rock?” He grinned. “You a fan of the Bee Gees?”

“Yeah. But mostly Hall and Oates. Feel free to judge me there.”

Angel held up his hands. “Hey, no judging from me, especially not on someone’s taste in music. Hall and Oates is a solid choice. Is a movie montage or toothpaste commercial even good if ‘You Make My Dreams (Come True)’ isn’t playing in the background?”

Iris’s smile inched wider. “What do you sing?”

He started to tell her that his heart was in R & B, really soul, even though his label was pushing him in a pop direction, but before he could answer, a little girl ran straight toward them. She looked a bit like Iris with the same complexion and light brown eyes.

“Mom,” she said, throwing her arms around Iris’s legs. She glanced at Angel shyly, and he waved. She turned back to Iris and whispered, “Come dance with me.”

Angel took that moment to quickly observe Iris’s left hand. No wedding ring.

Iris gazed into her daughter’s face and smiled. “Okay, let’s go back inside.”

Her daughter eagerly pulled her away, and Iris laughed, shaking her head.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she said, glancing at Angel over her shoulder. “Thank you again for catching me.”

“You too,” he said, lifting his hand. “And you’re welcome.”

Iris spared him one last soft smile before she and her daughter walked back inside.

Angel breathed a deep, wistful sigh.

He’d had a difficult relationship with religion since leaving Georgia. It was tainted with his mother’s judgments and her harsh black-and-white ideals. He hadn’t prayed consistently in years.

But right then, Angel prayed that he might one day see Iris Greene again.