My Cherie Amour (Fully Posted)

Chapter 7

Blaise knew from experience what it was like to be abused. Karina did too. Looking at Cherie now, he saw things they'd struggled with, things he continued to struggle with, in her expression.

"Anyone you knew?" he asked before he could think better of it.

"Yeah. He was my babysitter, a relative. I was five the first time." She hugged herself. "I wish I could say it was isolated, but it wasn't. Can we talk about something else?"

"Of course, honey. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Cherie said. "You've been very kind." She laughed a little, but there was nothing akin to humor in the sound. "This really isn't how I wanted to meet you."

Circumstances aside, Blaise couldn't resist smiling at her statement.

"What?" she asked, a puzzled smile of her own emerging. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm flattered that you wanted to meet me." When she blushed, he added, "I've been wanting to meet you too."

"Are you running lines, Mr. Draper?" Cherie asked. Suspicion entered her eyes, but the smile remained.

"No, I mean it."

The sound of the front door opening cut into the increasingly loaded atmosphere.

"I'd like to see you again. Is that okay?" Blaise asked in one rushed breath, feeling much like an awkward preteen instead of a confident man.

After a long moment, equally youthful shyness framed Cherie's response. "Yes. That's okay."

***

To say that Blaise and Cherie were fast friends would be an understatement.

They exchanged letters and phone calls almost daily while he worked through the first leg of his Zenith tour. Blaise found her speaking voice as soothing as her singing, and her writing style intrigued him. Like Da Vinci's, her letters would have to be held up to mirrors for most people to read them, but for someone who occasionally wrote backwards himself, this was no problem.

Regardless of the medium, however, he simply enjoyed her conversation. That was why, when he got a break from the tour, he came back to Port Matthews. He'd learned she was deviating from her usual extensive travel to fulfill an extended engagement at Club Laveau. This was convenient due to his living there, and because he'd decided at last to take Clint's bait and invest in the enterprise.

Besides, it was easier to plan to see Cherie when one of them was staying still.

On the evening of the day that followed his return, he invited her to a movie theater, which he'd rented out especially for the two of them. They shared a warm hug when she arrived.

"What movie are we watching?" she asked.

"The Idolmaker. Do you know it?"

"No, is it a classic?"

"Depends on your definition of classic," he said.

They walked into the theater without touching, but Blaise was troubled by an urge to hold her hand. He restrained himself, though, and soon enough they both had snacks and the contents of the film to occupy them.

The Idolmaker's premise was one that had fascinated Blaise since its debut in 1980. The movie, which was allegedly based on real people, told the story of a producer obsessed with molding and controlling the artists he worked with, and doing so to the extent of neglecting his actual needs. Despite the cautionary tale it presented, it spoke to Blaise's old dream of steering his own record label. It also made him wonder:

If someone with only a little talent could be shaped into a star, then how much more could be done with someone who had unique gifts?

When the screening was over, he asked Cherie what her thoughts were.

"On the film as a whole or the dynamics between the characters?" she asked, scrutinizing him as she spoke.

"Either. Both."

She frowned. "I think I feel bad for everyone involved. Seeing a talented man push other people into living out his dreams, and twist himself inside-out in the process, isn't fun. Fascinating like a horror show, but not fun."

"But what if it could be different, sweetheart?" Blaise asked. His enthusiasm for the idea almost overwhelmed him. "What if, instead of the one-sided train wreck, there was true collaboration, encouragement from someone who doesn't need to experience success through someone else, but wants to share what he has?"

Her frown intensified. "Get to the point, Svengali."

Blaise put a hand on her knee. "Cherie, I'd like to produce you, introduce you to the mainstream, and help you build on what you've already accomplished. Don't misunderstand. I admire the work you've done for other people, and with jazz and Latin music. I also respect how committed you are to learning more about what happens behind-the-scenes. But there's only so much growing you can do if you stay in a niche."

Cherie rubbed her forehead. "Blaise, over the years I've lost count of the people, all men, who have said they could 'make me a star', that they could do so much to help me. But the truth is that all they want to do is help me between their sheets." She picked up her purse. "I can't believe I thought you were different."

Blaise watched in alarm as she stood.

"Cherie—"

"Leave me alone."

"But you've got it wrong. I'm not trying to seduce you," he said.

Walking fast between rows, she didn't seem to be listening.

Out of desperation, he revealed the one thing he'd neglected to mention until now. "Why would I pursue you when I already have a girlfriend?"

Cherie froze, exhaled, and slowly walked back. "A girlfriend?"

"Yes. We've been keeping it quiet to avoid attention from the press," he said, reasoning that this wasn't untrue as much as it wasn't the complete truth. "She's a public figure too, and her work has taken her out of the country. I like to run it by her before I bring new people into her life. Otherwise, I would've arranged for the two of you to meet by now."

That last sentence was unequivocally untrue. For as long as possible, he'd been hoping to avoid Laurencia and Cherie finding out about each other.

Cherie, not sitting down again, but no longer attempting to leave, tightened her grip on her purse handles. "Be honest with me, Blaise. Were you planning to make me your mistress or something?"

"No," he said, genuinely upset by the question. "I know it hasn't been that long, but I seriously want to work with you, and I want to keep nurturing our friendship. You've brought real joy to a very lonely man. I'm not trying to jeopardize that."

Sitting down again, she stared at her purse.

Blaise felt like he was on pins and needles waiting for her to talk to him.

When she did, she addressed her lap instead of looking up. "You're sincere about wanting to produce me?"

"Yes. There isn't a doubt in my mind, Cherie. We could do great things."

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