4 Years Later
May 15, 1987
1:12 a.m.
Los Angeles, California
Some dreams one would wish to be fatidic. Very often, Isabella Marquez would wish she could live out the repetitive dreams she had. Singing in front of thousands of fans, millions if the world would allow it, her number one hit song. Moving her body across the stage in ways no one knew was possible for her. She wanted to break out and be free.
And singing in front of thousands of people was something she had actually become accustomed to, along with it being a number one hit song of hers.
But in these specific dreams, it was always a song from her English crossover album.
On February 24th, 1987, she was the first Tejano singer to win a Grammy. She won for Best Mexican-American Album. Her record company, CBS Discos, felt it was a sign that she was ready to record her English album. She was dominating the Latin charts with a number one album and receiving enough awards to show for all her hard work and growth. She signed a deal with Epic, a subsidiary of CBS, and was finally recording her dream album by April of 87'.
So when her phone rang at one o'clock in the morning, she knew it could've been anyone. "Hello?"
"Hey, beautiful. It's Quincy."
The sound of Quincy Jones' voice brought jumpy nerves. She had been waiting for his call ever since she bumped into him at the Grammy's back in February. Before then, she hadn't seen him since he was recording Thriller with Michael. But he didn't even mention it. Quincy kindly congratulated her on her win then went on to tell her he would love to work with her once she starts the crossover.
To hear those words from such a prominent figure was pure jubilation for her and her family. Quincy confessed to loving one of her songs and actually following her career. He knew deep down that she was bound to do something great and he wanted to be a part of her debut to the world.
Isabella's brother Pete was actually the one who gave Quincy the call and told him the great news about signing with Epic.
"What are you doing?" he asked. "And don't say sleeping."
"Oh, never. I'm up writing with my sister."
"That's what I'm talkin' 'bout. Because superstars don't sleep."
They shared a laugh together.
"I wanted to talk to you about the song I promised."
"Oh, okay. Cool." Isabella was happy he didn't' forget her.
"I've been real busy working with someone else right now but I think I might have something for you. It's not exactly what you asked for but I think it'll work."
Isabella looked at her sister suspiciously.
"What?" Penelope asked.
"All I asked for was a song," Isabella said to Quincy.
"I know. But I want to talk to you about it in person. You think you can meet me somewhere right now? You and Penny?"
"Sure!" One a.m. or not, this was Quincy Jones. "Where are you?"
"Westlake Studios. Meet me at Studio D."
"D?" she asked for clarification.
"Yes, it's on 7265 Santa Monica Blvd.."
She remembered Thriller being recording in Studio A. "Alright. I'll find it."
In ten minutes, the girls were ready to leave the Marquez family vacation home. Since Walter Yetnikoff, President of Epic, wanted Isabella to record in Los Angeles, the Marquez family was renting a home there for them to all be together.
In the car, Isabella explained in depth what Quincy said. They tried to figure out exactly what he had up his sleeve but couldn't think of anything concrete. And it didn't really matter. He said he had a something for her. That was what was most important.
Quincy met the two girls with hugs in the parking lot. He then led them through a private entrance. They were in awe as they walked through the corridor to end in a fancy lounge area. The lights were dimmed and there was absolute silence all around them.
"This is so beautiful, Q," Penelope said.
Quincy offered them a seat on a cushioned couch. He perched himself on the arm of a sofa across from them. "So how are things going with the album?"
"Oh, great," Isabella began. "We've been hooked up with some really great producers and writers and they even let Pete and Penny put some work in too."
"Some," Penelope stressed.
"Well, they want to make sure the songs are right and marketable and blah blah blah."
"So do you have a hit yet? First single?" he asked.
"Maybe," Isabella said sharing a glance with her sister before laughing. "Well, they really want my first single to be something upbeat so I can dance to it and show off that side of me but honestly we have some really strong ballads right now. So I don't know."
"Deadline?"
"Oh gosh, they want me in the Grammy's for next year so we only have until the end of next month. They want the album out in early August."
They had to make the deadline to be eligible for nominations at the Grammys in '88 which was September 30, 1987.
"They want her to have at least two singles," Penelope explained.
"And it's so much pressure. But I'm trying. I mean, we didn't officially start working on the album until last month but we've been working on songs for over a year now. But still..."
"Well," Quincy said with a pat on his thigh, "I'm going to be honest, I've been caught up. So I haven't been able to come up with anything specifically for you but I think I have a plan and I think you'll like it."
Isabella smiled, anxious to hear what he had to say.
"The artist that has me all tied up is working on a duet and hasn't been successful in finding a partner. But being that you're about to crossover to the wild side, I think this would be perfect for you to do."
"Who's the artist?" Isabella asked with the widest smile.
"How about you get a feel for the song first and then I'll tell you." He stood up to his feet. "Yeah?"
The two girls stood up. "Is it Donna Summer?" Isabella asked laughing.
"I can't tell you," Quincy said as he led them to the control room.
As soon as he opened the door, the girls felt as if they had entered into heaven. The room was bright and spacious. Through the window, they admired the spacious soundstage and beautiful high wooden ceilings.
"Wow. I've never been in anything like this," Penelope said.
Quincy smiled and had them take a seat in front of the boards. Two seconds later, a tall, stocky man walked through the door. "Hey," Quincy said reaching back to him. "This is Bruce Swedien, our wonderful engineer."
Isabella stood up smiling. "Do you remember me?"
"Oh, of course. How could I forget such a beautiful young lady?" He greeted her with a warm hug.
She laughed in his arms. "Nice to see you."
"There's that laugh we all loved."
"This is my sister, Penny," she said.
Penny greeted a friendly Bruce with a hug as well.
After a bit of small talk, Quincy played the instrumental for them.
"This is so beautiful, Quincy," Isabella said during the piano play. "Where are the words?"
"I can write them if you want," Penny suggested.
Quincy laughed and stopped the track. "The lyric sheet is in there," he said nodding towards the two mic stands in the tracking room.
Isabella stood up and made her way into the room, leaving the door behind her ajar. She stopped in front of podium where there were three sheets of paper laid out on it.
When she looked down and read the names on the paper, her heart detached and fell somewhere deep inside of her. Deep.
"Ah, shit."
[Michael]
Each Time The Wind Blows
I Hear Your Voice So
I Call Your Name . . .
Whispers At Morning
Our Love Is Dawning
Heaven's Glad You Came . . .
You Know How I Feel
This Thing Can't Go Wrong
I'm So Proud To Say
I Love You
Your Love's Got Me High
I Long To Get By
This Time Is Forever
Love Is The Answer
[Isabella]
I Hear Your Voice Now
You Are My Choice Now
The Love You Bring
Heaven's In My Heart
At Your Call
I Hear Harps,
And Angels Sing
You Know How I Feel
This Thing Can't Go Wrong
I Can't Live My Life
Without You
Isabella couldn't even wrap her mind around the lyrics because she couldn't get over the names printed on the sheets. "I knew it!" she screamed pointing towards Quincy. She couldn't stop laughing which made Penny run inside the room.
"Who is it?" She looked down and the name Michael screamed at her. "Michael who?"
"Um, that would be Michael Jackson," Quincy said smiling.
"Oh, shit, girl," she said. "I got to call dad."
Isabella ran after her sister back into the control room. "No. I'm not doing it." She tried to be stern but she couldn't lose her smile.
"Why not?" Quincy asked as Penelope was already on the phone.
Isabella didn't even have an answer. No words could describe how wrong it felt.
Juan, the patriarch of the Marquez family, and manager of Isabella was back in Texas.
"Dad, Quincy wants Isabella to do a duet with Michael for his album. We're at the studio right now."
Juan's response was one Isabella expected. "Tell her to get fucking to it," were his exact and only words.
"Michael wanted to do it with Barbara Streisand or Whitney Houston but they both declined the offer."
"Why?" Isabella asked.
"Other affairs. Too much exposure."
She frowned towards him. "Well, I don't know how Walter would feel about this."
"Oh, we talked to Walter about it. He loves it. He thinks this is the perfect project for you."
"We?"
"You think I would pull something like this behind Smelly's back? Michael knows about it. It was his idea," he whispered. "But you didn't hear that from me."
Bruce laughed to himself.
"What matters now, Issy, is that Michael wants to do the song with you. You're label mates, you're about to debut the album, Michael wants this song real bad but it won't be successful until he finds someone to sing it with."
Isabella sighed of defeat. She wasn't at all ready to face Michael again but she didn't seem to have a choice in this one. "Fine. But I have stipulations."
Quincy gave his full attention.
"I have to record my part right now, while he's not here." She didn't dare want to do it in front of him. "And..." All at once, the thoughts of promotion, music videos, and live performances came to her, knotting her up inside. "Is this really going to make the album?"
"Honestly, he wants it to be the first single."
"What?"
"Well, for Thriller, we dropped a duet first so he wants to do that this time around too."
"She'll do it," Penelope interjected. "You don't have a choice. You owe him one."
"I'm sure he isn't looking at this as a favor to him." Isabella then remembered she had never told anyone about that one night Michael called her. For all Penelope knew, Isabella hadn't spoken to Michael anytime before 1984 when she called the hospital to check on him after his burn incident.
The only person that knew about their quick rekindle and fall was Prince.
"Oh, God. I have to make a private call first." Isabella then realized she didn't want to agree to anything without talking to her fiancé about it first.
"There's a phone in the lounge we were just in. But also, you can't do the song without him."
"Why not?"
"Because he's here. He just stepped out for a minute. I think he's in one of the other lounges."
Just when her heart was crawling back to its resting place, it lost grip and fell back down in the pit of darkness.
"He wants to lay down the track tonight. That's why he asked me to call you in here. He'll be happy once he knows you've accepted his offer."
"I'll be back."
Isabella retraced her steps and found the phone in the corner on a round table. As she dialed Prince's number, she prayed Michael wouldn't pop up in her presence.
The frustration overwhelmed her as the phone line rang and rang after dialing the number three times. Finally, she just gave up.
She peeked around the corners as she made her way back to the control room. It was so quiet, she couldn't even imagine anyone else in the building but them. It was sort of eerie to think about it. Michael was somewhere lurking around the entire time she was there.
She took a deep breath when she made it back to the room with no signs of him. But as soon as she opened the door, the sight of the new face in the room caught her inhale.