Commitment (33 page)

g

Shawn
a
woke
to
the bitter taste of stale beer an
d a pasty feeling in his mouth.
As he lay there, the previous
evening
came
back to him in bits and pieces: waiting for Riley in the lobby, finally being let into the room and then to have her get
in – later than
she said she
would—and
announce that she’
d
spent
the last
few hours with her ex-boyfriend. Again.

When he walked out on her,
he hadn’t gotten very far; just to
the bar downstairs,
where he stared
blankly at the mounted television screen playing a rerun of a baseball game
and dri
nking watery MGDs from the tap.
A bunch of fraternity guys had shown up around midnight and wanted to buy him drinks, so he killed a couple hours with them while they laid it on thick about how much they liked his music.
One of them performed a drunken rendition of one of the
rhymes from his new CD which had everyone, including Shawn, laughing uncontrollably.

Sitting around shooting the breeze with five college boys
who were inebriated
off their asses was a welcome distraction from the news of where Riley had been.
Just hearing
Brian’s
name
could take
him back to a
time and
place where he didn’t want to be – when he w
as second in line for her time.
Just
remembering
that shit rattled his cage.
His head told him that Brian wasn’t a factor anymore, but some other part of him – the dark, ugly place that made him want to crack skulls open – came alive when he heard anything even vaguely connected to someone she
had been with.
Women couldn’t fully understand
the
kind of anger that made a man feel like blowing up the whole damn world rather than face the fact that out there, walking
the earth
was someone who had touched his woman, made her squirm and moan and scream the way
she did when she was with him.

He looked over at her now, sleeping with her mouth partially open,
snoring
softly.
It was the craziest thing.
Even now that
they were married
she
still messed
with his he
ad like no woman he ever kne
w
.
Whoever said marriage would cure you of a love jones didn’t know what
the
hell
they were talking about.
H
e’d
been foolish enough to think
that once she had that ring
on her finger he would relax.
Occasionally,
he would look up
and find her
doing something
mundane
, like standing at the kitchen sink rinsing a glass, or ironing a blouse for work, and it would blow
his mind that she was his wife.
H
e had so much more to lose now
that
they were married.
I
t was
primitive
and
territorial, but sometimes just
see
ing
the ring on her finger
was enough to get
his dick hard.

Shawn lowered his feet
to the floor
, trying
to stand without waking her.
Maybe the sex
last night
meant sh
e wasn’t pissed, but
probably
not.
She never refused him, so that wasn’t an accurate g
auge of anything.
For him, it had been about
reminding himself that he could have her whenever he wanted her; it had been about
marking his territory once again, plain and simple
.

And who knew what it had been about for Riley? He didn’t understand her at all, so any of his guesses were sure to be way off base.

But in case she was angry
, he would try to slip out without waking her and by the time he got back, hopefully the
whole thing would be squashed.
If he was lucky,
she would sweat it out at yoga.
He went into the sitting room and dialed Chris’ number,
practically
whispering into the phone, arranging for a
ride
to the studio
.

“I got
those
two kids with me,”
Chris told him. 

“Yeah,” Shawn said.
“A’ight.
Whatever.”

He was getting tired of sharing studio
time – and
frankly Chris’ time as a
producer – with
two seventeen-year olds who didn’t know how
played
out
it was
trying to prove you were har
d by naming your group
after a damn gun.
But from what he’d heard,
dumb name or not,
Glock was likely to be close on h
is heels when their CD dropped.
So
if he could contain his impatience,
it made good business sense to keep them close before they became his competition. 

When he got out of the shower
it was
just his luck that
Riley
was
wide
awake
,
lying
on her back,
knees up, one crossed ove
r the other, flipping channels.
Her eyes were puffy and she yawned, stretching her arms
above her head
, causing
the sheets to fall away from her chest
exposing the
smooth
,
firm globes
of her
breasts
,
her
nipples
like perfect copper-colored coins,
firm from the cold hotel room air.

“Hey,”
she said.
She didn’t
sound angry at all
.
“Where you
headed
?”

“Studio.”

“
I have yoga with Tracy
,” she said.
“You’ll
be there all day, right?”

“
After yoga come back here
,” he said.
“
So we can go home together
.”

She turned onto her stomach and scooted around so that her h
ead was at the foot of the bed.
“Okay.”

Shawn dug through his bag and pulled out a clean p
air of jeans and a
shirt.
Riley
was watching him as he changed.

“Who else is going to the studio?” she asked.

“Chris.
A couple young ‘uns.”

“And who
else?”

“What you mean who else?
I
don’t know,” he shrugged.

“
Women
?”

Shawn looked up.
He
should have known
she wasn’t going to let last night go.

“Yeah,” he said.
“
Sometimes.
Maybe
.”

“But I don’t have a
nything to worry about, r
ight?
Because I can trust you.”

He said nothing, until she arched an eyebrow and smiled at him.

“
You think that’s the same thing?
”
he asked looking at her. “You going out to dinner with your ex-boyfriend a couple weeks after your honeymoon, and there being some random chicks
hanging
out – who I ignore
anyway
– at
the studio?”

“In a sense, yes.”

Shawn gave a short laugh. “In what sense are they the same?”

He’d been so
focused on deflecting her anger
he wasn’t prepared for his own to resurface.

“
In both instances, it requires trust. I have to trust that those ‘random chicks’ don’t interest you, and you have to trust that  . . .” she looked him directly at him
,
“I do not,
could
not, want anyone but you, Shawn Gardner.”

Their eyes locked and Shawn’s irritation turned to mist.
Damn
. When she said shit like that, looking at him the way she
was
, it was game-fucking-
over.

“
C’mere a sec,
”
she said beckoning to him.

Shawn pulled his shirt over his head and went
to sit next to her on the bed.
She wiped something from the corner of his mouth and licked her finger.

“Toothpaste.
So you’ll come get me
at what time
?”

“
Around six this evening.”

S
he turned her att
ention to the television again.

“
Okay.
Have fun.”

g

As luck would have it, t
he first person Shawn noticed when he got t
o the studio was Mike’s cousin.
He tried to remember
her name but couldn’t access it.
The wannabe dancer who had invited him to watch her dance at the club
that time
.
But he hadn’t
made it to the club that night
and now he would no doubt have to listen to her babble on about wanting to make
it in the music video business.
It wasn’t as though she wasn’t worth looking at
,
but today he wanted to work in
the studio for a change.
He would have to ask Chris to start getting strict about who could show up and hang out in the
control room
. 

“You layin’
something
down today,
Smooth
?”

It was Darryl, the
younger of the two youngsters.
He reminded Shawn of the homeboys he used to hang with in DC
.
Even though he was probably no more than eighteen, he looked like he’d
seen a lifetime of hard knocks.
His
face still
had
some traces of
pre
teen
roundness
but
was
marred by
old faded scars crisscrossing his
cheeks and forehead
, as though he’d once been in a
pretty serious
knife fight.
Shawn
tried to control it, but he couldn’t help feeling competitive toward this kid who probab
ly wanted nothing more than to hear
someone who’d made it
tell him that he had what it
takes
to make it too.

“Not today,” Shawn said.
“I’m here checking
you
out.”

Mike’s cousin had gotten up from her perch across the room and was headed
right for
him.
Shawn looked
toward the
one plac
e
that
remained sacred in the studio – the live room.
Right now Mike was in there experimenting
with his vocals, but he could easily join h
im and circumvent the intrusion
.
But he was too slow.
Just as he was about
to reach for the door, s
he touched him on the shoulder.
He turned and smiled at her.

“You never came to see me dance,” she said, pouting prettily.

“
When
?”
H
e pretended not to recall.
No point giving her more encouragement.

“The day I met you
?
You said you was going to Sans Souci with Mike and them.”

“I did?”

She nodded.
“I’ll be there tonight too.
Mike said Chris and them are going.”

Shawn nodded
noncommittally.
He would tell Mike to keep her
out of the studio from now on.
The last thing he needed when he came to work was someone hitting him up for
a gig
.
Or for other things.