Bittersweet: An Equilibrium Novella by Christina C. Jones

Author:Christina C. Jones [Jones, Christina C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Warm Hues Creative
Published: 2019-12-14T18:30:00+00:00

Those lights aren’t supposed to be on, I thought to myself as I passed by Urban Grind.

It had become something like a little game for me, looking around the coffeehouse to figure out what was wrong or out of place. I either corrected it before Anika noticed, or planted myself somewhere close enough to see her reaction when she did.

Now though, I simply peered through the big front windows of the closed shop. Of course we didn’t leave it pitch black at night, but I could see from here that some of the back and stage lighting were still on – it was just a couple of switches to flip on your way out, which made them easy to forget.

But Anika was the one closing tonight, and forgetful wasn’t usually her thing.

Usually.

When she wasn’t working through a hangover.

Shit.

I was exhausted already, having spent a good chunk of the day watching my nieces and nephews so Roman and Simone could have a breather and do some Christmas shopping, then spending another chunk with Dean at the studio. He was a producer, working almost solely from the basement studio at Grown Folks Music, and you never knew what artist, big or small, might be dropping by.

I could spend hours on hours just watching the creation of music, from scratch to finish, and today… I had.

Just this one last thing, and I could take my ass to bed – I had to open the shop tomorrow. Well… in a few hours, actually.

I headed around to the back, keys in hand, to let myself in through the back entrance. I’d barely closed the door behind me when I realized there was music going, but not like the stuff we streamed to create the background ambiance.

Nah… this was the keyboard.

As I made my way to the front, the music shifted – an effortless transition into a different song. Familiar, but not enough that I immediately placed it. Not until she started singing.

I stepped into view of the stage right as Anika settled into the first verse of Beyoncé’s Love Drought. She had herself slanted so that her back was mostly turned to what would have been the crowd as she tackled the verse in a flawless, breathy alto. I was already impressed, and then she moved into the pre-chorus and chorus, not hitting a single discordant note on the keyboard as she shifted into a clear soprano.

I knew she played, but damn.

I had no idea she could sing like that.

My continued path toward the stage must’ve caught her attention because she didn’t start the second verse. Her fingers kept moving over the keys, but her mouth remained closed, eyebrows narrowed in frustration.

“What do want, Royal? Why are you here?” she asked, turning back to the keyboard.

“Well, I came in because I saw the lights were on, but it’s almost one in the morning. I was going to just turn them off real quick, but then I heard the music and the singing. I had no idea you were a siren, Anika.

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