The Favorite Son Read online

  The waiter nodded and smiled. “Sweet tea coming up.”

  “Well, aren’t you a country boy.”

  Camden turned his head to the voice, and was immediately starstruck. His manners had him immediately standing to his feet. It was Ivy Whitlowe, a Grammy-winning gospel star who had begun as Royce’s protégée.

  Ivy was stunningly beautiful. She could’ve been a model. She was tall, about five feet eight inches, with her heels making her close to six feet. She had long golden brown hair that hung in waves and eyes the color of honey. Camden had only ever seen her on television, and she was gorgeous there, but in person, she seemed otherworldly.

  “You’re Ivy Whitlowe. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  She chuckled. “Please sit! I’m happy to meet you, Camden Wilson. Royce can’t stop talking about your music.”

  Camden held out a chair for her at the table and she accepted. “Handsome and chivalrous. These Atlanta birds are gonna scoop you right up.”

  “Oh, I have a girlfriend back in Dallas.”

  Ivy grinned. “Well, she’s back in Dallas and you’re here in Atlanta. She should’ve come with you. The women here are a different breed.”

  “Well, I’m the same here as I am in Dallas, so I don’t think she has to worry.” Camden smiled, but he did feel a bit concerned.

  “She’s got a great man, then,” Ivy said.

  The champagne waiter came back with Camden’s sweet tea and offered Ivy a glass of champagne, which she readily accepted.

  “You don’t drink, Camden?” she asked. “You Holiness? Pentecostal? Do you think drinking is a sin?”

  “Oh, I have a drink from time to time. I don’t think it’s a sin. My father’s church is nondenominational.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want you judging me when we’ve got so much kingdom business to accomplish together.”

  “Are you going to be singing on Royce’s new project?” Camden asked.

  “I’ll probably do a guest spot or two, but I’m talking about my new record. My record company is on my back about coming up with a hit, and none of what I have is making the cut. I’m looking for a fresh sound.”

  Camden nodded. “Have you thought of doing a duet with Royce? I’ve got a great song called ‘Quiet Place’ that would be great for your voice.”

  Ivy sipped her champagne and swallowed it before she replied. “What about you? Do you sing? I don’t know about doing a duet with Royce. It’d end up being all about him.”

  “I do sing, but I’m not a performer. I like to stay behind the scenes.”

  “You’re way too handsome to be behind the scenes. You need to be up singing or preaching or something. Do you preach too?”

  Camden laughed. “No, I don’t. I am—was—the Minister of Music at my father’s church.”

  “Past tense, huh? Let me guess. He didn’t want you to come out here.”

  “You’re exactly right. How’d you know?”

  Ivy smiled, and Camden swore her eyes sparkled. “My father is Bishop K. Phillip Carter of Heavenly Rest Church of God in Christ in Detroit. I was the choir director and opened up singing a solo for him every time he did a speaking engagement. Royce heard me sing at a conference and snatched me right up out of there.”

  “How old were you?” Camden asked.

  “Twenty-three. My father acted a fool. He was ready to marry me off to one of his up-and-coming pastor friends and have me start popping out little singing grandbabies. God had other plans.”

  “Wow,” Camden said. “Sounds a lot like me, except for popping out the grandbabies. I guess my girlfriend will be the one doing that.”

  “Who knows? You may end up like me. I got here and my entire life changed. I’ve never looked back.”

  “I think that’s what everyone is afraid of.”

  Ivy shook her head. “They can’t stop your destiny, no matter what.”

  Camden was glad that Ivy was the first person he met in Atlanta. She made him feel comfortable. They had a lot in common already, and he couldn’t wait to hear her voice singing on some of his music.

  “Looks like I was destined to be married to a pastor anyway. Dr. Norman Whitlowe. My daddy couldn’t have been happier when we got together.”

  Camden smiled. “You’re right. No one can stop your destiny, but you can’t run from it either. I’m here now, so let’s see what unfolds.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here!”

  Royce walked up to the table after giving some orders to the wait staff. The best way to describe his outfit was snug. He had on a pair of short jeans almost the length of capri pants and a tight button-down pink shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was wearing a shiny tank underneath. It was gold, the same color as his leather boat shoes. He gave Ivy a big hug and kissed her cheeks.

  “Girl, why didn’t you tell me you were here?” Royce asked.

  “I was just fine! Spending some time with Camden. He’s a sweetheart.”

  Royce smiled at Camden. “You don’t call a grown man a sweetheart. He is a gifted musician!”

  “She can call me anything she wants,” Camden said.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t she,” Royce said. “I keep telling her husband I’m gonna steal her from him one day.”

  Ivy shook her head and laughed. “You know you had first dibs, Royce. Don’t even play.”

  Camden watched Ivy and Royce exchange glances, and he knew there was plenty not being said. Camden could imagine Ivy falling for Royce, who was all glitz and glam, when she was so young and eager to be a star.

  Royce’s wife, Kita, appeared on the patio, and Royce waved her over. She was so different from Royce, it was hard to believe that they were married. She had on a pastel blouse and skirt, very little makeup, and her hair was pulled up into a side ponytail. She was the opposite of glitz. It was as if Royce had sucked up everything shiny in his path and left Kita with everything dull.

  Ivy jumped up and hugged Kita. “Hey, girl, everything looks nice!”

  Kita laughed. “You know that was all Royce. I had nothing to do with this. I just show up like everybody else.”

  Kita sat down at the table with Ivy, Royce, and Camden. Other partiers had started to arrive and every one of them stopped by to say hello to Royce and Ivy first, like they were royalty.

  One by one, Camden met everyone in Royce’s group. There were about thirty of them, and once they all got there and the DJ turned the music up, Camden couldn’t tell the difference between Spirited and a family reunion.

  “We have fun,” Royce said. “We’re family, man.”

  “I see!” Camden replied.

  For a second, it made Camden wish for the familiarity of his own group. This would be a lot easier with Amber by his side making jokes about her cleavage. Or with Blaine taking all the spotlight.

  But Camden had stepped out. He was on his own. Destiny was ready to unfold … or not. He had to prepare his mind for this because Royce and now Ivy were looking for him to be something special. And he hoped that he wouldn’t prove them wrong.

  CHAPTER 19

  Now that Camden was in Atlanta, Blaine had something to prove. He had to show everyone that he could lead the group in his absence. Because if he couldn’t lead a singing group that had been together for years, how in the world could he lead a church?

  They were at the first show that Royce had scheduled for them, the Superfest in Houston, Texas. There were a lot of other up-and-coming groups there, but none that Blaine had ever heard of. As far as Blaine could see there wasn’t one headliner in the house. That was perfect. So G.I.F.T.E.D was going to be the act that everyone remembered.

  The show was being held at an outdoor venue, and the weather felt like they were near one of the portals of hell, but onstage there were big fans blowing cold air. Backstage was another matter. Blaine felt like he was about to spontaneously combust in the hot, snug suit that Amber had picked out for him. He took the jacket off and slung it across his arm. He wouldn’t be able to perform in that wit
hout passing out.

  “Blaine, here is the water you asked for. Room temperature, right?”

  Dawn handed Blaine the bottle of water and a couple of peppermints. That was what he always had before he sang. Regina was making sure the show went well, microphone checks, lighting checks and whatnot, but Dawn knew all the little details that came from singing with a person for years.

  “Thank you. You ready?” Blaine asked.

  She nodded. “Been resting my voice a little bit. Want to make sure I’m not pitchy when we sing.”

  Blaine tried to think of what Camden would do when one of them was feeling insecure about singing. He put one hand on Dawn’s shoulder and smiled down at her.

  “Just let the Holy Spirit move, Dawn. Your voice is anointed, so you don’t have to worry about ministering. Just let God use you.”

  Dawn rewarded Blaine’s wisdom with a big smile. “Thank you for that. Needed that. To God be the glory.”

  “Yes! He’s worthy!”

  Amber walked up to the two of them. Her usually wild hair was slicked into a bun on top of her head, but her flower was still perched next to her ear. Their color scheme—royal blue, white, and black—had Amber and Blaine in royal blue with white and black accessories. Dawn and Akil were wearing white with blue and black accessories. Their look was eye-catching.

  “They’ll be ready for us in five minutes. We’re gonna rock this, right?” Amber asked.

  “And you know it!” Blaine said.

  Amber whipped out her phone and started texting. “I’m telling Camden about our first real gig!”

  “What did he say?” Dawn asked.

  “He said he’s praying for us, and do good!” Amber said.

  Dawn nodded and her bright smile faded a little bit. Blaine assumed that things were not good between Dawn and Camden, but he didn’t want to ask about it. Camden had been gone a month, and they hadn’t skipped a beat with rehearsals and getting ready for the show, but sometimes Dawn looked sad. Like she did when Amber read the text message.

  “Are you gonna put that suit jacket on?” Amber asked.

  Blaine laughed. “It’s the middle of June. You trying to kill me?”

  “It looks good, Blaine,” Dawn said. “Maybe if you wear it open.”

  “I’m not wearing it,” Blaine said. “And we’re still gonna slay the crowd. Watch.”

  Blaine was right. The jacket wasn’t necessary at all. They opened with “I Am Free” and had half the crowd of one thousand or so shouting in the aisles. “Born to Worship” had the other half raising their hands and crying out to God.

  After the show, several radio show hosts and managers made a beeline to Blaine to give him their information. Regina was on the spot. She took all of the information for them to look at later.

  “So, we’ve made some really good connections,” Regina said as they packed up their belongings from the backstage area.

  “Good. Very good.”

  Blaine was barely paying attention to Regina because he was watching Akil out of the corner of his eye. There were two girls who had him hemmed up, and Akil was all smiles. Akil had his macking face on. Blaine wanted in on that action.

  “So, can you check and make sure Amber and Dawn have everything?” Blaine asked Regina. “Dawn was in a bit of a daze. She’s missing Camden, I think. She might need somebody to talk to.”

  Regina nodded with a concerned expression on her face. “Of course. I’ll handle it. Thank you for wanting my help with that. It means a lot. I think we’re becoming a team.”

  Blaine kissed her forehead. “Yeah, we are.”

  “Why don’t I meet you back at the hotel? I’ll take Dawn to get some dessert or something. We’ll have girl talk.”

  “Okay. She’ll appreciate it.”

  “Anytime! We’re going to be sisters-in-law one day.”

  “Yep. You are.”

  Blaine wanted to kick up his heels and shout as he watched Regina rush away to find Dawn and Amber. He knew Amber had Dawn’s back on whatever, but neither of them would turn Regina away—freeing him up for the evening.

  Once Regina was safely out of sight, Blaine sauntered over to where Akil was still entertaining the girls. They were of the thick Houston variety: curves for days, tiny waists, and no girdles to contain their behinds that moved freely under their sundresses.

  Blaine felt himself get excited at the possibilities. He’d been doing a good job for a couple of months on not indulging in his various girlfriends in Dallas. He’d been faithful to Regina at home. He had no choice because she watched him like a hawk.

  But they were in Houston. This was a one-night-only type of thing. He could have fun with these girls and never see them again. Regina would never even know.

  “Hello, ladies,” Blaine said as he approached. “Did you enjoy the show?”

  Akil said, “I was just telling them that we’d love some home cooking here in Houston.”

  Blaine nodded. Akil was a great wingman, whether he knew it or not. Home cooking meant a get-together at someone’s house. No restaurants where they could be seen.

  “My auntie made some rib tips, black eyed peas, collard greens, and macaroni and cheese. She’ll fry up some chicken too, if I tell her y’all coming to visit. She watches your daddy’s broadcast every Sunday morning,” the butter-pecan-complexioned girl said.

  Blaine grinned at her and tipped her chin upward as she giggled. Yes, she was perfect. “I sure do love rib tips and collard greens. You make hot water cornbread, pretty girl?”

  “I sure do.”

  “Well, I think I worked up an appetite doing this show. So, point me in the direction of your auntie’s house,” Blaine said.

  “What about Amber, Dawn …”

  “It’s cool,” Blaine said. “Regina said they’d meet us back at the hotel. We’re good.”

  Blaine and Akil followed the girls to their car in the parking lot.

  “Y’all can follow us, okay?” Butter Pecan said.

  Akil and Blaine rushed to their rental car and jumped in. Blaine was glad that they’d gotten separate cars. The girls would have a way back to the hotel.

  “Man, I must say, I’ve trained you well,” Blaine said to Akil as he started the car. “Those two are perfect.”

  Akil chuckled. “I really wasn’t trying to score anybody for you. You’ve got Regina down here, man! What are you thinking?”

  “Oh, she’s on a mission. Helping her future sister-in-law deal with the loss of her man. She’ll be busy for a while.”

  “I thought you were gonna give that up, though. Start being more like a pastor,” Akil said.

  “You judging me now?” Blaine asked. “I thought we were brothers.”

  “Yeah, we are. I’m just trying to look out for you. You’ve been doing good, going to ministry classes, leading the group like nobody thought you could.”

  “Nobody thought I could?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I know. Camden is the one who has it all together. I’m just the wild card, right?”

  Akil shook his head. “It’s okay to give it up. It’s okay to just have Regina, you know. You don’t have to be like your father. You can be better.”

  Blaine swallowed hard and gripped the steering wheel. There was no one he admired more than his father, but he knew his father’s flaws. Pastor Wilson had managed to be great in spite of them.

  “Don’t say anything bad about my father, Akil. You don’t know how much he’s sacrificed for this ministry.”

  Akil didn’t say another word, and Blaine followed the girls to Butter Pecan’s auntie’s house. You can be better. The words echoed in Blaine’s mind. Maybe he’d try to do just that. Be a pastor without blame, and serve the people of God with a clean heart.

  But not today. He’d start tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 20

  Camden sat in Royce’s recording studio and admired all of the state-of-the-art equipment. He wished he could have this kind of setup at home. He would
do some phenomenal music with a studio in his townhome.

  “I’m hearing great things about So G.I.F.T.E.D,” Royce said. “They killed it at the Houston Praise and Worship conference. I’m getting phone calls left and right about how to book them.”

  Camden nodded. “I’m hearing the same. They are pumped right now for the opportunity, and as long as they’re back at the church on Sunday morning, my father is cool.”

  “About that. They should start thinking about having a backup praise team. They’ll be pulled away more frequently if things go the way we want them to. We will be releasing your single to radio next week.”

  “‘Born to Worship’ is going to be on the radio already?”

  “They impressed a lot of radio power players in Houston. It’s a done deal. I was worried that your brother wouldn’t get it done without you on the keys, but he’s impressive.”

  “Blaine knows how to work a crowd.”

  Royce nodded his agreement. “He does. And his vocals are powerful too. There’s a YouTube video with their performance.”

  Camden frowned. “So my song is already being pirated.”

  Royce opened his mouth and laughed. “Gospel music is pirated more than it’s purchased. You’ll make your money, but it’ll be from performances and radio play. Sales of the actual song are going to be low. If you do fifteen thousand on your independent singles, the record label will feel really positive about your record.”

  “First things first, right? Your project,” Camden said. “That’s why I’m here. I can work on our stuff in Dallas.”

  Royce played a few tracks that they had already recorded for his worship project, and Camden internalized Royce’s unique sound. He would start there and add his own special flair to it.

  “Do you already have anything in your repertoire that complements these songs?” Royce asked.

  “I actually want to write you some new material. Everything I already have was created for So G.I.F.T.E.D.”

  Royce said, “So, this might indeed take the year that I envisioned.”

  “It might. I want to hear your group perform. I need to hear the lead singers and get a feel for their voices.”