‘Um, my new song isn’t the only reason you’ve been invited here. Tonight we are celebrating. I’d like to introduce you to the new man in my life, Mr Nathan Regan,’ she began.
She paused to allow the crowd to take in her news. They did so in a combination of shock, surprise, and ‘ooos’. The cameras went into overdrive.
She looked to Juan and saw mixed emotions cross his face. To begin with, he seemed unperturbed. Autumn had assumed her assistant had filled him in about Nathan after their phone call. But then, as people turned in his direction and looked at him for some sort of explanation, his expression changed. His eyes darkened, his mouth hardened, and Autumn had to make herself look away. He was so obviously playing for the crowd.
‘I’ve never been happier in my life before. So I’d like you all to raise your glasses and drink to this man who has made me so happy. To Nathan Regan,’ Autumn instructed.
‘Nathan Regan,’ the gathering repeated, lifting their champagne flutes into the air.
With the toast complete, Autumn held up her floor-length gown and almost vaulted from the stage. She strode toward Juan and Blu-Daddy, anger in her eyes and a stomach full of pent-up frustration.
Juan’s bald head looked freshly oiled, and he wore a cream-colored designer suit and beige loafers. Blu-Daddy, in contrast, was dressed in his trademark baggy jeans, a T-shirt printed with a picture of the band De La Soul, and whiter-than-white Adidas sneakers.
‘Autumn, babe, what was all that about?’ Juan asked, taking hold of her hands.
She shook his hands off. ‘Don’t touch me!’ Autumn hissed.
‘Hey, Autumn, how you doin’, girl?’ Blu-Daddy asked.
Autumn drew her arm back, closed her eyes, and threw a punch at Juan’s face. She missed completely and hit him on the shoulder.
Surprise and bemusement arrived on Juan’s expression then. He adjusted his sunglasses and shrugged his shoulders to straighten his jacket.
‘Ow! Man, what’s with you? And who is this guy? You and me, we’re the business. What you making announcements like that for? A publicity stunt or something?’ Juan asked, turning his attention to Nathan.
‘I’m Nathan Regan. You must be the prick who’s been cheating on her.’
‘What?’ Juan exclaimed, all wide-eyed innocence.
‘I know what you’ve been doing behind my back! With that lying bitch, my so-called friend! You and I are finished!’ Autumn screamed. ‘I don’t want to see your vile face or your, bald, greasy head ever again!’ She pushed Juan backwards with all the force she could muster.
He staggered back into a group of guests, but she wasn’t finished with him yet. She hit him, with both of her fists, pummeling a rhythm on his chest and beating him with all her might.
‘I am not a meal ticket to the high-life for you. I don’t want your crap rapping on my records, and I don’t want you remixing anything except that press release we did last week. We will not be holidaying in Martinique. I will be going to the Seychelles with Nathan.’
A team of half a dozen photographers followed the action with their cameras, capturing not just the visual before them, but the audio, too.
‘Autumn, that’s enough,’ Nathan said. He grabbed hold of one of her arms as it swung back from a thump at Juan’s abdomen.
‘No, it’s not!’ she shrieked. ‘Do you know, once he told me not to speak for an entire party because he didn’t think he could trust me not to tell everyone about his new album. Like anyone was interested!’
‘I said that’s enough.’ Nathan tightened the grip on her arm.
‘It’s not enough! It’s not! For God’s sake, you hit him!’ Autumn ordered, her face as red as a ripe cherry, tendrils of hair falling from the do Tawanda had carefully created.
In one quick action, Nathan moved Autumn aside and landed a punch on Juan that sent him to the floor. He was unconscious before he hit the parquet tiles.
‘What on earth is going on here?!’
The room silenced as Alison Raine looked to Autumn for an answer to her question.
Seventeen
He’d considered the idea, but he hadn’t really expected it. Still, he didn’t really know, but she was here, that said quite a lot all on its own.
She was preened and perfected and wore a scowl on her Botox-enhanced face as she looked at her daughter. How different the two of them were. The mother was hard, the daughter pretended to be, but inside, Autumn was gelatin. From what he had encountered, there was nothing but rock right through Alison Raine.
A guest punched Nathan on the arm. ‘Hey! Who do you think you are? Do you know who he is? He’s A-list, man. Has someone called the cops?’
‘Why don’t you just fuck off and go and get another drink. It’s a free bar, isn’t it? Knock yourself out.’
‘He isn’t coming round,’ a female guest who was attending to Juan reacted, shaking at his jacket.
‘Should we call a paramedic?’ another voice asked.
‘I’m calling the cops… where’s the security around here?’
*
‘Mother! What are you doing here?’ Autumn questioned as another section of hair came loose from its grip.
‘Janey called me. What’s going on, Mr Regan? We were supposed to keep in touch,’ Alison said, her irritated look directed at Nathan.
‘Were we?’ he asked, his eyes trained back on Juan.
The rapper showed signs of coming around and was now being attended to by some waiters.
‘Yes, we were. That was the deal,’ Alison hissed through tight lips.
‘What deal?’ Autumn wanted to know.
‘Yes, Foreign Secretary, what deal?’ Nathan repeated.
Autumn saw his focus directed back at her mother, the expression in his eyes serious.
‘We were supposed to keep in touch. It’s been forty-eight hours, and I didn’t know where she was,’ Alison continued. Her voice lowered as a waitress with a tray of blinis passed close by. No one was taking the food, they were all too
