Backstage Benefits
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LaQuette
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One
Good God Almighty.
The words reverberated through Josiah Manning’s head as he watched the fierce woman strut across the room. He’d come here specifically for her, and although he knew what she looked like from photos he’d found on the internet, he was woefully unprepared for the way her beauty struck him damn near stupid.
Lyric Devereaux-Smith, beauty and fashion influencer, was hands down the most alluring woman in the room. The sea of people parted and stared at her as she walked toward the bar where Josiah was currently standing. No one in this room was immune to her, apparently.
She wore a white tuxedo shirt with one button undone to show a sexy sliver of a lace balconette bra. Her shirt was tucked into the shortest pair of black sequined tuxedo shorts that stopped at an almost indecent point, putting every inch of her thick fishnet-covered thighs on display. To accessorize the outfit just right, she wore a black fedora tilted to the side, and on her feet were a simple pair of closed-toed black stiletto platform pumps with a point so sharp he was certain she could use them as a weapon.
He wasn’t a caveman who thought women existed solely for the pleasure of men. But there was something about curvy, confident sistas, this one in particular, who made him feel virile. And confidence obviously wasn’t a problem for her, especially not with the way she was wearing the hell out of that outfit. Her strut was magnificent and regal, and the sway of her wide hips was damn near hypnotic. There was no question. She was owning everyone in the room, including him.
He closed his eyes, trying to break the spell and regain control of his higher brain function. As gorgeous as Lyric was, he wasn’t here to ogle her. He needed her, and as much as his libido regretted it, it wasn’t for her sumptuous body, either.
She was the key to making all his professional dreams come true. She didn’t know it yet, but the two of them working together were going to take over daytime television and earn him the soon-to-be-vacant title of president of Public Broadcasting Network, more widely known as PBN.
After years of setbacks and sabotage, he’d finally built his production company, Kings Creative, to be a powerhouse on the daytime television circuit. He had two hit shows on the major networks. His ratings, coupled with eight Daytime Emmy Award nominations, made him a perfect candidate for the PBN job. The only thing the PBN board asked was for him to come up with a killer weekday daytime lineup, and the job was his. No biggie, right?
For Josiah, as one of the few Black television executives behind the scenes, creating stellar work was par for the course. But the opportunities he’d turned into career gold didn’t come easily when you were from an underrepresented community in the media. His father had always told him, “In order to get in the door, you’ve got to be twice as good as everyone else’s best.” To be noticed, he couldn’t just be good, he had to be great. Therefore, he worked tirelessly to make sure the concept, casting and overall production of every project was so good, network studios couldn’t say no.
Black excellence, that was his motto. All day. Every day. In every way.
His drive, talent and relentless work ethic had put the ultimate goal within his reach. All that remained for him to land this job was one last morning show. And for what he had in mind, Lyric Devereaux would be the perfect host.
“If you keep staring at my cousin like that, I’m gonna be honor-bound to kick your ass.”
Josiah smiled as he listened to the familiar voice. He didn’t take his eyes off Lyric, however, until she stopped walking toward him, talking to someone in the crowd.
He turned around, greeting his old friend and former high school rival, Jeremiah Benton, with a firm handshake and a backslapping hug. “Come on, J.” His smile widened in genuine happiness to be in his friend’s presence again. “We been boys since way back. Instead of cockblocking, you could maybe introduce me to Lyric.”
Jeremiah stepped back, signaling the bartender for a drink. “I just told you she’s family. I’m not hooking her up with one of you trifling Hollywood types. Lyric’s too good a person. Besides, I don’t want to have to come find you if shit goes wrong.”
Josiah shrugged, admitting there was a large amount of truth to Jeremiah’s perspective. The entertainment industry was notorious for people in power being predators. Even though Josiah liked a fun hookup as much as the next guy, he never forced his unwanted attention on anyone. If a woman was in his bed, it was because she wanted to be.
“I feel you, man, but what if my interest in her is professional and not carnal?”
He could tell by Jeremiah’s raised brow he didn’t believe what was spilling out of Josiah’s mouth. He held his hands up in mock surrender and chuckled lightly. “I’m serious. I’m creating a new talk show about fashion and beauty hacks and trends. And you know how I get down. Anytime I can put one of us in front of or behind the camera, I’m gonna make it happen.”
Jeremiah accepted his drink from the bartender, giving Josiah his attention once again after his first sip. “It’s the same for me in business. The chances for us to make these kinds of moves don’t come easy. I try to reach back into our communities whenever I can to create ‘for us, by us’ opportunities.”
“That’s what this is, J. I’ve been looking all over for a star and I think Lyric is it. She smashes the bullshit beauty and fashion standards. She helps people from all backgrounds, body types and skin tones see that glam and fashion are for everyone. I need her.”
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Jeremiah narrowed his gaze as he observed Josiah.
“Yeah.” He nodded enthusiastically. “I really think she’s got star quality. I was hoping I could get an audience with her tonight. Think you can help a brotha out?”
Jeremiah took a long sip of his drink before setting the empty glass on the bar. “I’ll introduce you two, but the rest is up to you.”
“Thanks, man.” He went to shake Jeremiah’s hand, but his friend held up a finger.
“Don’t thank me yet. Lyric has been through a lot. She lost her husband two years ago, and she’s just coming out of her shell. She may not be ready for any of what you’re suggesting. All I ask is if she’s not willing, you back off.”
He was about to speak when Jeremiah held up his finger again. “I mean it, Josiah. I know how persistent your ass can be when you want something. But Lyric can’t take that kind of pressure. Even though I know this is something you’re excited about, if she ain’t feeling it, let it go. Respect her no if that’s the answer she gives you.”
“J, I won’t badger her. But I’m an entrepreneur just like you. I go hard for what I want. All I can promise is that I will work to convince her without crossing any lines. Will that suffice?”
Jeremiah watched Josiah for a long moment before he took his outstretched hand and nodded. “Fair enough.”
Jeremiah then waved for a few seconds before he caught Lyric’s deep brown gaze, beckoning her to join them. “Hope you’ve got your sales pitch ready.”
“Bruh.” Josiah chuckled confidently. “I could do this in my sleep.”
“For your sake, I hope your cocky ass is right.”
And as he watched the hypnotizing sway of Lyric’s hips, the only thing he could think was...I hope I’m right, too.
“You’re Jordan, right?” Lyric beamed. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you.” Jordan Dylan Devereaux III. Her name was a mouthful and her presence was just as powerful. In a room filled with at least four hundred people, her regal aura made her easily recognizable among the crowd. “I’m Lyric. My late husband, Randall, was your father’s first cousin. I guess that makes us first cousins once removed by marriage.”
“Please, call me Trey,” the dark-skinned, curvy beauty replied. “Otherwise, there are too many Jordan Dylan Devereauxs in this family to keep us all straight.”
Her bright smile eased any awkwardness this first meeting could have had. With Trey and her father long estranged from the rest of the family, her presence here at the Legacy Ball could’ve been uncomfortable for all of them.
“Are you doing okay? I’m sure you’re used to these kinds of parties, considering your father, Deuce, is the head of DD Enterprises. But having people ogle you has to feel strange.” It had for Lyric when she’d first become Randall’s bride. The Devereaux clan was so large, she felt swallowed up like a tiny morsel among all the powerful people in this family. It had taken her nearly a decade to eke out her own space and begin the journey of figuring out what being a Devereaux meant to and for her.
“It’s been a ride, that’s for sure. But mostly everyone I’ve encountered has been warm and welcoming.”
Lyric smiled. “That means you haven’t met my former mother-in-law, Martha, then. I can’t imagine she’s happy you’re here. She sees anyone who shares blood with her as a threat. I’ve learned to deal with her. And since I’m not in the running to assume the Devereaux Incorporated throne your grandfather Ace will be leaving behind, she pretty much leaves me alone. But make sure you watch yourself around her.”
Trey lifted a perfectly arched brow. “Jeremiah has warned me about her, too. I guess I’d better get my armor ready, then. Because now that I’ve found my grandfather and taken my place in this family, I’m not going anywhere.”
Lyric threw her head back in laughter. The Devereaux fight was strong in this one; Martha might want to think twice about taking Trey on. As much of a pain as Martha had been in Lyric’s twenty-year marriage, the thought perversely excited her that Trey might just be the overbearing woman’s match.
“With that attitude, you’re going to fit in this family just fine. I’m glad you’ve found your way home, Trey.”
“Thank you.” Their camaraderie was broken when Ace waved in their direction, pulling Trey’s attention away. “My grandfather is summoning me. Please excuse me.”
Lyric gracefully nodded and stepped back, allowing Trey to take her leave. She let her eyes scan the room and saw Jeremiah waving her over.
Jeremiah’s hand might have caught Lyric’s attention. But the gorgeous specimen of a man standing next to him was what held it.
He looked to be the same height as Jeremiah. That put him somewhere a little above six feet tall. His skin was the color of tanned oak, with an inviting golden hue that called out to her. His dark curls were cropped low with a sharp edge at his hairline and his temples. She’d always loved to see a man edged out to precision. But on him, it looked so good it tempted her to reach out and run the pads of her fingers over his hair.
He had high cheekbones and full lips that looked like they could render a woman needy and begging for the joy they could bring her.
With his tuxedo hanging perfectly on his striking form, he was the very picture of masculine beauty that kept her thinking things no self-respecting widow would allow to cross her mind.
That time in your life is over, Lyric. Don’t let a set of thick lips and cute dimples take your focus off the prize.
She gave herself a mental shake as she joined the men, trying to keep her attention on the safe and familiar Jeremiah instead of his companion.
“Hey, J.”
“Hey, Lyric.” He leaned down and gave her a quick peck on her cheek before turning to the stranger standing next to him.
“Lyric, this is my boy Josiah Manning. Josiah, this is Lyric Devereaux-Smith. She’s our family celebrity.”
She cut her eyes at Jeremiah before extending her hand to Josiah. She expected him to shake it, but he gently hooked his fingers beneath hers and brought her knuckles to his mouth. Never once taking his eyes off her, he pressed a delicate kiss on her skin.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Lyric.” His voice was like cognac, spicy and rich, filling her with decadent warmth.
“It’s lovely to meet you, too.”
Jeremiah cleared his throat, tossing her a knowing glance over the drink he had strategically placed in front of his mouth.
“Speaking of lovely.” Jeremiah stepped back to take in the sight of her. “You are wearing that outfit, Lyric. Between you and Trey, I’m gonna be busting heads all night.”
“I just met Trey. How’s she taking all of this in? It can’t be easy for her to deal with all of this pomp and circumstance.”
Jeremiah shrugged. “She’s handling it like a Devereaux, walking straight into the fire with no hesitation. But like I said, between you and her, I gotta keep my eyes open tonight. As a matter of fact, I need to check on her now. Josiah—” he pointed toward his friend “—why don’t you keep Lyric company for a bit? At least I know I can trust you around her. Right?”
“Absolutely.” Josiah never took his eyes off Lyric as he answered. Something powerful and intense flashed in his eyes, leaving Lyric unsure if he was a would-be protector or predator. But either way his acute stare kept her feet planted to the ground and her gaze locked with his.
Jeremiah gave her another quick peck on the cheek, breaking Josiah’s spell and giving her a chance to gather her wits.
“Is he always that overprotective?” Josiah asked when he and Lyric were alone.
Lyric glanced briefly at Jeremiah’s retreating form and smiled. “Jeremiah and I came to the Devereaux family at the same time. I was a twenty-year-old bride to Ace’s nephew, Randall, and he was Ace’s sixteen-year-old ward. We kind of bonded as outcasts, helping each other find our place in the family. Since Randall’s passing two years ago, he’s kept an eye out for me. He’s never overbearing, but I always know he’s there if I need him.”
Compassion softened Josiah’s chiseled features as he leaned against the bar, inching closer to her. “You have my condolences. I can’t imagine experiencing that loss was easy.”
It had been two years since Randall had left this world, and this was the first time she’d heard someone say that and not wanted to crumble into a broken pile of jagged pieces on the floor.
“Thank you,” she replied as she dropped her gaze, needing a moment to pull herself together. “It wasn’t. But with family like Jeremiah around, I didn’t have to battle the worst of it on my own. Now I’m in a much better place and doing my best to embrace all that life has to offer.”
“It’s funny that you say that,” he responded. “As luck would have it, I’m actually here to make an offer of sorts to you myself.”
She lifted her brow and stepped back, putting some much-needed distance between them. She was pretty certain Jeremiah would never leave her in the presence of a sleazy jerk with bad pickup lines. But just in case she needed an out, she created some space for herself.
He chuckled, putting his hands up. “I promise, it’s not that kind of proposition. This is all business.”
He summoned the bartender, giving her a chance to watch him without the pull of his gaze on her. His carved jawline was clean-shaven, his mouth and chin covered by a thin mustache and goatee that put those gorgeous thick lips on display. His shoulders were broad and solid, and this close to him, she could see the bulge of his defined arms stretching the fabric of his tuxedo. And his hair, it wasn’t a simple edged-up low cut like she’d thought. No, he had soft waves that started at the crown of his head and went all the way forward to his hairline. She once again felt the urge to run her fingers over it.
Don’t you dare touch that man’s hair.
He turned around just in time to see her putting her polite veneer in place. She offered him a pleasant smile as the bartender handed them each a glass of champagne.
“Are we celebrating?”
“Of course,” he answered.
“What exactly?”
“First, me having the good fortune of meeting such a lovely woman. Second, that this same woman and I are going to make daytime television history.”
He lifted his glass and clinked it against hers as she stood there with her head tilted and gaze narrowed on him.
“I’m not exactly sure what any of that means.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I sometimes get ahead of myself when I can already see the triumphant end to a fabulous story. Let me start at the beginning.”
He took another sip of his champagne before continuing. “I’m Josiah Manning, the owner and executive producer of Kings Creative Production Company. I produce daytime television programming that often takes a more modern and Afrocentric direction with storytelling and casting.”
She took a slow sip of her drink, needing a moment to digest what he’d said.
“Kings? You’re located in what used to be that empty lot at the very end of Linden Boulevard in East New York. That space was abandoned for as long as I can remember, and then you came in. Your studio brought much-needed jobs and an influx of money into that area without tipping the balance into gentrification.”
His eyes widened, as if he hadn’t expected her to know anything about his business.
“Yeah, that’s me.” His answer was simple. She couldn’t tell if he was being modest or succinct. Either way, he’d done what many new businesses in poverty-stricken areas of Brooklyn had failed to: renewed the neighborhood without erasing the beauty of the people and culture that lived there.
“Did you name your company Kings because you think of yourself as one, or because we’re in Kings County?”
He winked at her before taking another sip of his drink, and the amount of sexy confidence dripping off him made her tighten her grip on her own glass.
She cleared her throat, glancing down inside her glass in an attempt to break the spell he was weaving over her. “Your business...it sounds intriguing. But I fail to see what it has to do with me.”
He leaned against the bar, and she had a hard time keeping her eyes from dipping down to watch the confident smile spread across those kissable lips.
“I’ve got a killer lineup for the fall season on PBN. I just need a powerhouse in that eleven-to-twelve spot to go up against The View over on ABC. You, Ms. Devereaux-Smith, you are the star I want for this particular role.”
“You can’t be serious. This has to be the most elaborate pickup line I’ve ever heard.”
He sat his glass down on the bar as he stared at her. The smile he wore slipped from his face as he stood tall, commanding her attention.
“I never joke about work, Lyric.” His voice spilled over her like a medicinal elixir, soothing long-forgotten aches. “You are an amazing YouTube and Instagram influencer. Every video and picture you post goes viral. If we took your YouTube and Instagram content and used it as a basis for a beauty, fashion and lifestyle daytime talk show, we’d have a clear hit on our hands.”
Her amusement dissipated as she listened to his elevator pitch. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am.”
“But what makes you think my success as a social media influencer would necessarily mean anyone would care what I have to say on television?”
“You tell people who they are or who they want to be is more than good enough. You encourage them to set their own standards. In a world and an industry that tells people they have to look, live and love a certain way, you tell them, ‘Screw that. Do you.’ And believe it or not, there are more people in the world than you think that need that kind of message. We could create something life-changing, Lyric. All I need you to do is sign on as my host. What do you say?”
She stood dumbstruck with her mouth open and her eyes blinking, shocked at all the words that had fallen out of this man’s mouth. What he was offering was an incredible opportunity, and it would probably catapult her career into a new stratosphere. How on earth could she turn that down?
“No,” she answered. “I say no.”
