Femme Tales Read online

  Femme Tales

  Synopsis

  Beast: Former hip-hop artist Ebony “The Beast” Trent has wrapped her persona around herself like a protective wall of bitterness. Belinda Jansen is confident, intelligent, sexy, and—to Ebony's fascination—not the least bit intimidated by Ebony’s beastly demeanor. Can Beauty truly tame The Beast?

  Awaken: Local celebrity chef Chayse Carmichael has achieved a level of success she’d only imagined while learning to cook. But when free-spirited Georgia peach Serena Frasier walks into her restaurant, Chayse realizes that success doesn’t always bring happiness if you don’t have someone special to share it with. Does love at first sight truly exist?

  Stiletto: Music mogul Cass Phillips barely has a moment to sleep, let alone build a relationship. But an unexpected encounter with shoe designer Faith Shaw leads her to believe that maybe fairy tales do come true. Can true love really conquer all?

  Six women find themselves in their own real-life fairy tales when true love finds them in the most unexpected ways.

  Femme Tales

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Femme Tales

  © 2020 By Anne Shade. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-63555-656-8

  This Electronic Original Is Published By

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: March 2020

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design By Tammy Seidick

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to women who are not afraid to follow their hearts and love freely and openly and to the women who are still finding their way.

  Beast

  Based on the Beauty and the Beast fairy tale

  Ebony Trent pressed pause on the remote to her office stereo system with a sigh. She’d been listening to demos for the past hour and was tired of hearing the same thing from every wannabe thug who thought they could rap. Tired of hearing about “niggas,” “bitches,” and “hos” and having the word “fuck” jammed abrasively in her ears as they talked about their ghetto, money, drug- and alcohol-filled lifestyle. She knew for a fact that two of the most profanity-laden, women demoralizing demos were from a suburban White kid from Long Island and a prep school Black kid from Jersey. The sad thing about it was that they were good. Their flow was smooth, but they were trying too hard to be something they weren’t because they thought it was the only way to make it. Ebony didn’t understand why these young kids tried so hard to be ghetto when she’d done everything possible to get out of the ghetto.

  Ebony Trent, formerly known as The Beast, had come a long way from the infamous Cabrini-Green in Chicago. At fifteen years old, she was left to raise her ten-year-old sister, Sheree, alone when their mother decided that a life on the streets as a crack addict was more appealing than raising her two kids. With the help of Virginia “Mama” Ellis, an older neighbor who would watch over and feed them when their mother was too high to bother, Ebony was able to keep Social Services from finding out their mother left. She managed to stay in school, keep her grades up, work a steady part-time job as a grocery cashier, as well as any other minor work she could find, legal or otherwise, to keep them out of foster care and keep a roof over their heads and food in their mouth. It was a hard life and one that bred a lot of anger for Ebony. The only thing that kept her from following in her junkie mother’s and grandmother’s footsteps was Sheree.

  Ebony saw potential in her sister and was determined to make sure that Sheree was given every opportunity for success that Ebony was denied. Ebony knew the only way to do that was to get her out of the projects and break the cycle that had already broken two generations of Trent women.

  Music was Ebony’s drug, ever since she was a little girl sitting on her father’s lap listening to his vast record collection of everything from classical to rock and losing herself in a world filled with musical notes, harmonious melodies, and poetic verses. It was the world she’d shared with her father before he was killed and one she frequently escaped to since his death. She wrote her own music, created her own beats, and sang her own hooks; her lyrics were filled with the pain and hardship of her life. After her best friend talked Ebony into entering a local rap battle when she was sixteen years old, music became her way out of the ghetto.

  She was nicknamed The Beast for the raw talent she showed in knocking her competitors down without uttering a profanity or using any of the derogatory phrases she hated being used so frequently by other rappers. She had surprised even herself by how quickly she rose through the ranks of underground rap. By the time she graduated high school, she was being sought after by several music labels, but it was a producer Cass Phillips from her favorite independent label, Pure Music, that offered her the deal that helped her and her sister escape from a life of struggle. The ink hadn’t even dried on the contract before she packed up her sister and Mama Ellis and moved to New York without even a glance back. That was thirteen years ago.

  Ebony glanced around her office, noticing the display shelf across from her desk that held trophies from the Underground Music Awards, BET Hip-Hop Awards, MTV Hip-Hop Awards, and her proudest, the Grammy she received for her last single on her retirement album, Taming of the Beast. Ebony hadn’t disappointed Pure Music, giving them several chart topping solo albums and collaborations over the first five years before becoming a successful producer on their label for the last six years. Ebony had made sure that her good fortune was also her loved ones’ good fortune.

  She’d sent Sheree to the best private schools, and she was now a graduate student at New York University working on her master’s in social work so that she could further her career as a substance abuse counselor. It wasn’t a glorious job nor would she get rich from it, but Ebony couldn’t have been more proud of her because she was doing something important. Mama Ellis was also still with them. If it hadn’t been for her Ebony knew she’d probably be in jail or dead and Sheree would’ve ended up a product of the foster care system so Ebony made sure she didn’t want for anything. They all lived in a brownstone in Harlem Ebony had purchased and renovated so that they could be together but still have their own space. Ebony felt there was nothing more she could ask for, yet there still seemed to be something missing in her life. A knock on her office door interrupted her thoughts.

  “Come in,” she called.

  The door opened and Ebony’s assistant, Dane, walked in, arms loaded down with shopping bags, followed by Mama Ellis.

  “I ran into this beautiful little lady coming into the building on my way back from lunch.” He set the bags near the sofa.

  Ebony came from behind the desk and greeted Mama Ellis with a kiss on her smooth cheek. “This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”

  “I came into town to do some shopping for the kids at the shelter and figured I’d drag you out to lunch since you probably haven’t had anything since breakfast,” Mama Ellis said knowingly.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ellis, ’cause Lord knows I try to get her to eat and she just waves me awa
y.” Dane grinned.

  Ebony scowled at Dane who got the message and retreated without another word.

  Mama Ellis patted Ebony’s cheek affectionately. “You’re so busy taking care of everybody else you forget to take care of yourself so somebody’s got to do it.”

  “Between you, Sheree, and Dane I think I’m covered. So where would you like to go to lunch?”

  “Why don’t you pick the place but give me a minute to catch my breath before we go,” Mama Ellis said.

  She was a petite woman who was in much better physical health at sixty-five than she was at fifty because Ebony made sure she had the best healthcare available. Something she lacked when they lived in Chicago where she’d been suffering from Type 2 diabetes and high blood pressure. Ebony hadn’t realized how bad it was until shortly after Mama Ellis’s first doctor visit about a month after they arrived in New York when they were told that an infection in her right foot was so bad that if they had waited much longer to bring her in it would’ve needed to be amputated. Fortunately, they were able to clear the infection and put her on a regular regimen of insulin and blood pressure medication, both of which she was taking in lesser dosage after she started cooking healthier and, to Ebony’s surprise, joined a seniors’ exercise class.

  “Are you all right, Mama Ellis?” she asked as she led her over to the seating area in her office.

  “No need to go fussin’ over me. I’m just a little tired, baby. They’ve been shorthanded at the shelter this week so I’ve been helping out more than usual. I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep,” she said tiredly.

  “Why don’t I have one of the drivers take you home to rest and we’ll do dinner instead of lunch when I get home,” Ebony suggested.

  “Only if we go to Chayse’s Place.” Mama Ellis grinned.

  “It’s a date.”

  After Ebony had Dane call for one of the company drivers to meet them in front of the building, she helped Mama Ellis gather her bags. Just as they walked out of Ebony’s office, Mama Ellis halted midstride.

  “Ebony…something’s wrong.” Mama Ellis dropped the bag she was carrying and took a staggering step forward before collapsing to the floor.

  * * *

  Belinda Jansen pressed play on her stereo remote, turned up the volume to the loudest level reasonable without disturbing her neighbors, let the soothing sounds of her meditation playlist surround her, and then took a sip of her chamomile tea. This was the first day of her long-awaited vacation week of self-imposed seclusion. After the past four months with an overly demanding client who had her reconsidering her career as a private nurse, all she wanted to do was retreat into her own little world of relaxation, reading, and junk food with no human contact whatsoever. Just as Belinda picked up the warm, gooey cinnamon bun she’d made for breakfast, her cell phone buzzed beside her. She eyed the glistening frosting slowly oozing its way down the bun and decided to let the call go to voice mail. A minute later, her phone buzzed again so she glanced down and saw the picture of her father’s face on the screen and couldn’t help but smile.

  “Hey, Daddy,” she answered.

  “Hey, baby girl, sorry to bother you on your day off,” he said.

  “You know I don’t mind when you call,” she said.

  “I hope you still feel that way after I ask a favor,” he said hesitantly.

  Belinda chuckled. “Hmm…is it that bad?”

  “Well, depends on how you look at it,” he answered cryptically.

  “I’m almost afraid to ask. What’s up?”

  “I have a very special patient who’s heading home in a few days after suffering a stroke. She’s going to need home care for a few months, and her family wants the best, no matter the cost, and asked if I would recommend someone. Of course I recommended you.”

  “Daddy…” Belinda said tiredly.

  “I know you’re on vacation,” he hurried to finish before she could say more, “but this patient really is someone special, and I can’t see trusting her and her family in the hands of anyone else besides my daughter.”

  Belinda’s father rarely asked for favors, especially when it came to both of their jobs, so the fact that he was calling when he knew she rarely took time off, and asking this was a big thing. She gazed longingly at her now cooled honey bun and sighed in resignation.

  “Okay, but only because this is so important to you,” she said.

  “Thanks, baby girl, I knew I could count on you. I owe you big time,” he said.

  “Sunday dinner at Chayse’s?”

  Her father chuckled. “You got it.”

  He gave her the name and number of who to call before telling her how much he loved her and good-bye. Belinda looked at the paper she’d written everything on and shook her head. She adored her father and found she couldn’t say no to him because he so rarely asked her for anything. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to show him how much she appreciated everything he’d done for her after they’d lost her mother to breast cancer when Belinda was just eight years old. By the time her mother had been diagnosed it was already at Stage 4 and the only thing they could do was make those last few years she had with them ones to remember. They had been a mutual support system to each other through their grief.

  Before she could change her mind, she picked up her phone and dialed the number.

  “Pure Music Studios, how may I help you?” a pleasant male voice answered.

  “Hello, may I speak with Ms. Trent?” Belinda asked.

  “May I ask who is calling?”

  “My name is Belinda Jansen. Dr. Richard Jansen referred me.”

  “Oh yes, you’re the private nurse. I’m Dane, Ms. Trent’s assistant. She’s been expecting your call. Are you available to meet this afternoon?”

  “This afternoon?” Belinda asked. She was hoping to at least be able to enjoy one day of her vacation.

  “Yes, it will have to be this afternoon. Ms. Trent will clear her calendar for whatever time works best for you.”

  “Will three work?” Belinda asked, hoping this wasn’t another pushy and demanding client.

  “Yes, that works fine,” Dane gave her the address of the office and ended the call with an abrupt but pleasant good-bye.

  Belinda laid her head against the back of the chair, closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths to try to quell the beginnings of a tension headache when a thought occurred to her. When her father gave her the name of her prospective client, she hadn’t given it a second thought, but now she connected it with the name of the company she’d called to reach her. Her client was The Beast, a hip-hop artist from back in the day who was now a producer.

  Belinda recalled reading about her recently in some magazine about how she was a really private person, almost reclusive, refusing to give interviews and rarely attending industry events. She had even been in the news over the past few years for getting into a few scuffles with paparazzi.

  Belinda sighed tiredly, that’s all she needed, a job working with an egomaniacal celebrity.

  * * *

  Ebony was gazing out the large bank of windows behind her desk, her mind was going over everything that was being completed for Mama Ellis’s homecoming. Per the doctor’s instructions, Ebony was having Mama Ellis’s level of their brownstone renovated to accommodate her medical needs, one of which included installing an elevator so that she wouldn’t have to use the stairs to come up to either her or Sheree’s floors whenever she wanted to. The elevator wouldn’t be finished for another month, but everything else would be completed by tomorrow. The only thing she had left to do was hire a nurse who she was waiting to interview. Just as she looked down at her watch for the time, Dane buzzed her on the intercom.

  “E, your three o’clock has arrived. Should I bring her in?”

  “Yeah, thanks, Dane.”

  A moment later, Dane walked in followed by a woman Ebony could only describe as stunning. She wore a navy blue business suit that was tailored perfectly for her curvaceous hourgl
ass figure, an ivory camisole top with a draped collar, gold hoop earrings, and a gold heart-shaped locket. The hem of the fitted skirt stopped just at the top of her knees, showing off a pair of smooth, long, shapely legs. She had a rich dark chocolate complexion, wore her locs in an intricately entwined upswept bun that emphasized her wide deep brown doe eyes, and full lush mouth that had Ebony wondering if they were as kissably soft as they looked. She walked toward Ebony with a confident stride and a natural sway to her hips, and as conservative as her style was, it couldn’t hide her sensuality.

  She offered Ebony her hand. “Good afternoon, Ms. Trent. I’m Belinda Jansen.”

  Ebony grasped her hand, liking the firm handshake she was given in return. “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Ms. Jansen. Can I have my assistant get you something to drink?”

  “No, I’m fine, thank you,” Belinda answered pleasantly.

  “Please, have a seat.” Ebony walked back to sit behind her desk.

  Once they were both seated, Belinda reached into her briefcase to hand Ebony several papers. “As you will see from my résumé I have worked for a very prominent private nursing company for several years as well as partnered with Dr. Jansen’s practice for over a year now. There are various referrals from some of his patients for your review.”

  Ebony took the papers, set them aside without even a glance, and leaned casually back in her chair. “No offense, Ms. Jansen, but I couldn’t care less about what’s said about you on paper. The only reason you’re here is because you were highly recommended by Dr. Jansen. I’ve trusted his opinion for several years now so I’m hoping this recommendation is not because you happen to be his daughter or that he gets a cut of whatever you make from his referrals. I’m assuming it’s because you’re good at what you do. If that’s not the case, then we can save both of us a lot time by cutting this meeting short right now.”