Laz took a few steps back, which broke the hold Zinner had on him. “With my education, experience, and years of service here, you want to bump me down to a babysitter?”
Zinner exhaled like he needed to, not out of exasperation. “You’ll still work for the company.”
Laz shook his head. He didn’t do this business to have his name associated with a company. He had something to say, something to prove.
“I’ll be gone in five minutes.” He stormed to the door.
“Not until you sign that gag order preventing you from talking about the whole thing with Kat. One word about it to anyone and you’ll be sued for every dime you have and every dime you’ll ever earn.”
“Believe me. I don’t want to talk about this bullshit situation.” He continued to the door.
“You won’t make it out there,” Zinner called after Laz, but Laz kept moving.
From this point on, he would have to do what he could to make his own way.
* * * *
Avery Shields leaned on the mop handle she’d just used on the women’s bathroom floor as she peered down to read her statistics book. She needed more hours in the day to get it all done.
“Avery, you done in the bathroom?”
She heard her father’s voice, but she had a few more pages to review first. She glanced at her watch and cursed. In a few more hours, she would have her first of many exams. Life wouldn’t be life if it didn’t include tests.
The door to the women’s bathroom creaked open.
“Did you hear me, gal?” Her father came up behind her and tapped her shoulder.
“Yeah.” Avery didn’t have to look at Clinton Shields to know he disapproved of how she responded. “I mean, yes, sir.” She broke away from her book to give him her full attention. “The toilets are cleaned. The mirrors are all shiny. I just mopped. I’m good in here.”
As though not believing her, Clinton scanned the room that had a row of about seven stalls and then about five more stalls around the corner. He dropped his gaze to the floor first before proceeding to inspect the rest of the place.
In the meantime, in the quiet, Avery continued reading until she heard that disappointed groan she had heard from her parents before. Each time, it gave her an uncomfortable tickle up her spine to the back of her head.
She heard the sounds of plastic crinkling before she saw her father coming around the corner with a full bag of garbage in his hand.
“All of the garbage receptacles. You have to empty them all.” He shook his head as he walked by her. “I swear sometimes you don’t think.”
“I was going to get it.” She winced at the lie with good reason.
Clinton didn’t make it out of the door. He returned to her and cocked his head. “So you thought it would make more sense to mop the floor before emptying out the trash cans?”
“When you put it that way, I guess it doesn’t hold any logic.” She shrugged.
“My name is on this cleaning business.”
When Clinton started on his rant, it could wear on a person’s nerves. Avery wouldn’t dare roll her eyes or cut him off from speaking his mind.
“I know, Dad.” She understood the sacrifices her parents had made for the family.
Clinton had driven taxis, cleaned office buildings, and even had his own pressure-washing business at one time. Avery’s mother usually worked alongside him until she started taking classes to become a nurse.
Avery really had no reason to complain. She had a job, too many jobs, actually. Her father didn’t have to hire her, but he did. That didn’t mean she didn’t see more for herself like her mother. Her dream, though, didn’t involve another high-level profession like nursing.
Clinton’s gaze dropped down to her opened book. “The sooner we get this place cleaned, the faster you can get home to finish studying.”
“Yes, sir.” She slammed the book closed and slipped it into a side pocket that Avery had made to hang from the rolling cleaning cart that housed all her supplies.
Her father carried the same warm honey skin tone color, but on long days like today, he looked ashen and tired. His gray coveralls stretched tight over his rounded belly. The scowl that masked his expression spoke volumes. He, nor Avery’s mother, could easily hide their expressions.
Avery bent down to roll the cuffs on her oversized coveralls to keep from tripping on them while she walked.
“You get that end and I’ll get this end, and I think that’ll be it.” Clinton nodded to the area behind Avery.
“Yes, sir.” She watched him walk away before she pushed her cart to the end of the top floor where she knew magic had to happen.
Avery scanned her identification badge over a reader to open the door first. As soon as she stepped inside, her shoulders relaxed. The place already smelled like flowers and fragrant candle wax. She loved stepping inside Charisma Music’s studio.
She got the studio on a good night. The section sat empty, which lately had been a rare occurrence. On the nights when artists filled the studio space, Avery tried keeping away from the area. She didn’t do it out of embarrassment because of her job. She worked and worked hard. However, she didn’t like seeing others going for a dream that had been hers at one time.
Avery left her cart in the center of the room so that she could start her work. No use lamenting about what could have been. She dusted the surfaces. When she got to the control boards, she dragged her fingers over the knobs and buttons.
“Maybe.” She snickered. “Probably not.”
After dusting, she adjusted her headscarf over her hair, styled with two-stranded twists all over. Then she tackled the thick glass panes that surrounded the recording booths. She let her hand rest on the glass rumored to have been smashed with a chair by country singer Laura Smalls. Strange what people will do for love, or even lust.
To make sure she didn’t leave any handprints, she examined the glass thoroughly. She didn’t need her father catching her slacking on her duties again.
When she got by the piano that sat to the side, Avery hung around it longer than she should have. Like the control board, she danced her fingers over the keys, allowing one to dip down on one key so that the sound reverberated throughout the compact space. When the sound came, so did the involuntary hum that rattled her chest.
Avery peered up to make sure her father didn’t pop up all of a sudden. When she didn’t see or hear him, she took a seat at the piano bench. She took a breath before tickling her fingers over the keys. She tried doing it ever so lightly, but then she got into playing a Stevie Wonder song and found herself getting into it more and more.
She smiled and her body didn’t feel like her own. It felt both relaxed and on autopilot as she played the melody first. Before she knew it, Avery had started singing.
She closed her eyes and imagined her life recording music in a studio like this and with people like Chantel and Truman Woodley. If Chantel could make it out of her humble beginnings to be a major power player in the business, Avery held out hope that maybe one day after finishing her business degree and getting a job her parents would be proud of, she could really pursue her dream. She could finally be Destiny Starr. If she did that, would they still be proud of her?
When the thought hit her, she stopped playing. She hovered her hands over the piano keys. What was Avery doing besides torturing herself? This life could never be hers. She had made up a fake name to go with her fantasy life.
Avery