Read Online Larger Than Lyfe by Cynthia Diane Thornton - Free Book Online Page A

salads, handmade chicken ravioli with a spinach and cream sauce, and fresh Italian bread with extra virgin olive oil.
    “You said that you dabble a bit in the kitchen. You didn’t tell me that you’d been to culinary school. Did you really make all of this yourself? And how did you prepare it so fast? What? Did you leave your office to start cooking as soon as we finished talking on the phone earlier today?”
    Mars laughed. “Cute,” he said. “Very cute. I made the ravioli a couple of weeks ago. I vacuum seal it and freeze it. The cream sauce only takes a few minutes to make. My housekeeper picked up the bread for me. And, no, I haven’t been to culinary school. I took a few cooking classes at Williams-Sonoma. You know, a little sumthin’ sumthin’ to add to the ol’ repertoire.’”
    “A New Millennium Black renaissance man,” Keshari said as she tasted the food. “Ummmmmm…, this is really good.”
    The sun had almost completely set and the burning candles on the table illuminated Keshari’s face with a warm glow. Mars stared across the table at her and took in everything that he possibly could about her, from the mystery in her almond-shaped, green eyes to the curve of her beautiful, full lips when she smiled and savored her food. Everything about her attracted him to her. He sipped his wine and began to talk animatedly about growing up in Brooklyn, New York.
    He was the younger of two children. He had an older sister, a professor of African-American Studies at Columbia University. Hismother and father, who still lived in Brooklyn, were happily married after more than forty years together. His mother was a retired schoolteacher and his father was a recently retired attorney.
    Mars had lived in Los Angeles ever since graduating from Stanford Law School. He’d never been married, had no children, but was certainly not averse to commitment. One day, he said, he hoped to have a wife and family.
    “So Keshari Mitchell, tell me all about you.”
    “Well,” Keshari said, gazing out at the man-made lake outlining Mars’s terrace, “I graduated with honors from UCLA. I got my MBA from Wharton. I began setting the groundwork for my record label while still working on my master’s degree. I’ve been in love with hip-hop since high school and am currently delving on a serious level into the genres of jazz and R & B at my record label…”
    “Okay,” Mars said. “Now, that’s the professionally prepared bio from your PR department. Tell me more about Keshari Mitchell. We’re off the record. You can tell me anything.”
    “Anything?” Keshari asked half-jokingly with an eyebrow raised. “We just met. I’ll give you an abbreviated version and allow you to build up some trust points for more.”
    Mars chuckled. “Sounds cool. How did you get your start in the industry?”
    “I think I’ve always been in love with music,” Keshari said, “especially jazz. Miles, Mingus, Bird, Billie Holiday, Dinah Washington, Ella and Coltrane, some of the contemporary stuff, old school R & B. Before my mom passed, she listened to jazz almost all the time. I guess the fond memories of her cooking and playing cards with her girlfriends with good jazz in the background made me become especially attached to the music too.
    “Then, along came hip-hop,” Keshari continued. “MY music…OUR music…music that had its start in my generation, created by my very own peers. I couldn’t get enough of it. Eric B & Rakim, A Tribe Called Quest, Brand Nubian, EPMD, Das EFX, X-Clan, Pete Rock & CL Smooth, LL, Big Daddy Kane, Nas… I could put my hip-hop collection up against any DJs, East or West Coast, and win hands-down.

    “I did internships at MCA and Sony during undergrad. My best friend started doing party promotion while we were at UCLA. She knows some of everybody and I made quite a few industry connections that way. When I started in the Masters program at Wharton, I knew what my ultimate goal was. I wanted to start