Found at the Jazz Club
Page 3
“When I woke up the next morning, you were already gone, but this was on my hand and that was in my purse.” She put her hand out and opened her palm, revealing a glittery ring. A wedding ring.
He stared down at the ring, and his heart dropped to his feet. He shook his head. “No. That’s not possible.”
She winced.
“Not that you aren’t lovely, but...”
She gave him a sad smile. “Believe me, I get it.” She handed the ring to him. “Which is why I can’t keep this. It’s expensive.”
“No.” He tried to give it back to her, but she stepped away like he scared her. “This isn’t possible. I wouldn’t have... We wouldn’t have...”
She waved her hand at the paper. “It’s all right there. I had my lawyer check it, and he says it’s the real deal. Obviously, neither one of us wants this to become public knowledge, and I certainly know this isn’t the place to discuss the situation...” She stumbled over her words. “The annulment. But we have to talk about it and get it taken care of before someone else finds out.” Reaching into her small purse again, she pulled out a business card. “This has my cell phone number on it. Call me.”
She strode out of the room.
Brady stumbled behind her, not ready for this conversation to be over yet. But when he exited the sitting room, Emily stood with another man who had his arm hooked around her waist and both of them were smiling and talking to Brady’s father. Holy fuck. He wasn’t sure how to react. That surge of jealousy had him most focused on the stranger. Who the fuck was that holding his Emily?
His Emily?
Oh fuck.
What the hell had just happened? He quickly unfolded the paper, scanning the marriage certificate, finding both his and Emily’s names. Both their signatures were at the bottom of the paper. It looked legit.
When he looked up again, he didn’t see Emily anywhere. He scanned the room, ignoring that his father was coming toward him with a really concerned look on his face.
“Brady, what’s wrong? You’re pale as a ghost.”
Brady folded the paper and stuffed it, the business card, and the diamond ring into his pocket like his father had just caught him with porn. “Oh, nothing, I’m fine.” He glanced around the room again, frantically searching for Emily. “That woman you were talking to, what did she say to you?”
“Emily Hodges?” Confusion and concern radiated from his father’s frown. “She was just saying hello and how she enjoyed the party, but that she had an early morning tomorrow, so they were making their apologies for leaving early. Why?”
They? Again, his brain honed in on the man with her. Was that her boyfriend? Who was she, and what gave either of them the right to approach his father?
But he couldn’t confess to his dad just how much he’d screwed up because he’d been drunk. “Um, it’s probably a good idea for you to stay away from her, okay?”
Now his dad started to look angry as he dragged Brady back into the empty room he’d just exited. “Brady, what the hell is going on with you? Why would you want me to stay away from Emily Hodges? Did something happen between you and Hodges Media?”
Suddenly, realization hit, and Brady’s legs grew weak. He grabbed at the wall, and his dad immediately grasped his arm to give him support. “Brady, shit. Hold on. Let me call an ambulance. Did you take anything tonight?”
Brady never did drugs, but a famous actor had collapsed at their last party as he overdosed. His dad probably had a bit of PTSD left over from that situation.
Brady’s laugh sounded a little hysterical, which probably didn’t do anything to help ease his father’s mind. “Sorry. No, I’m fine. Um, I’ve maybe had a few too many surprises tonight. I just didn’t realize who...” He fished Emily’s business card out of his pocket. Emily Hodges, President, Hodges Publishing and Marketing.
He swallowed against the bile trying to kick up his suddenly dry throat. “I didn’t know who she was...”
His father laughed lightly. “Yes, a beautiful woman will do that to a man. But I don’t think you have to worry about Ms. Hodges. This isn’t exactly her scene, and she leaves the media side of the company, which handles most of the music contracts, to her father and stepbrother. So if you offended her in some way, it will be fine. She would never hold a grudge for something like that. Your future working with Hodges Media should be safe.”
His father stepped back and patted Brady on his shoulder. “A word of advice, son. It’s never a good idea to hit on women at these industry parties without knowing who they are first.”
“Noted,” Brady said with a nervous laugh. Fucking shit. He was in so much trouble.
“Besides,” his dad continued, “it’s never a good idea to hit on one woman when there’s a rumor of a future engagement flying around about the woman you’re really dating. That’s in poor taste.”
“I’m not planning to ask Anya to marry me, Dad.” Even if he had, that was impossible now.
“Well, you probably should mention that to your date, because I heard her discussing the months that are perfect for weddings earlier with your mother.”
Brady closed his eyes and rubbed his throbbing temples. How had everything gotten so out of control? The headache that had been brewing all day just went nuclear. “I need to go find Anya and clear all this up.”
It was time to cut things off completely with the Swedish beauty. From here on out, their relationship would have to stay completely professional. Anya worked as his sound-mixer, so they had to work together...a lot. If she had marriage in mind, this was liable to get messy.
His father nodded. “If you don’t love her, that’s probably for the best.”
Brady chuckled hollowly. His dad truly had no idea how much mixing pleasure and work had royally messed things up. He’d been searching for inspiration for his songwriting and somehow had found a wife instead. And of course, she just happened to be a rich, powerful wife who could make or break his career if she chose to.
Fuck my life.
Chapter Five
After the party, they got into the limo and Emily had to hold back the tears. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She had no claims on Brady regardless of their sham of a marriage. It shouldn’t have bothered her to see him with his girlfriend.
Austin watched her warily. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She waved him off. “Sorry I had to pull you into my drama. I just had to talk to him before he accidentally committed bigamy.”
“So, how did he react?”
She gave a small laugh. “About the same as I did when I realized I had a wedding ring on my finger the morning after. Shocked, stunned, and not sure whether to believe me or not. I left him my cell phone number. He can take time to let it soak in, and hopefully, he’ll call me.”
“If he doesn’t,” Austin frowned, “you call me. I work with almost his entire family. I can make sure he takes responsibility.”
She patted Austin’s hand. “Look at you, going all big brother on me. Don’t worry. I’m sure it will be fine. He has no reason to make any of this more difficult than it is. Besides, if the news reports are correct, he needs to get rid of me quick.”
So he could ask the blonde bombshell with him tonight to marry him.
Glancing out the window, she pushed back the tears. Seriously, what was wrong with her? She rarely got emotional, but from the moment Mac and Tommy had gotten married, it had been non-stop waterworks.
When she’d met Brady in Vegas, he’d been performing behind the piano. He’d had a certain self-assured quality about him, but tonight he’d been different. Tonight, she could see the power of that self-confidence in how he held himself as he made the rounds and shook hands while flashing his dimples and chatting with the party guests. He’d been in his element and she’d been enchanted... If only he hadn’t had that blonde on his arm.
“He looked good, didn’t he?” she mused.
“Aww, darling, all the Gresham men are beautiful. Tale
nt and those looks...it’s really not fair to the rest of us mortal beings.” He turned to her and winked. “Hey, maybe if things work out between the two of you, you could figure out which of his cousins is gay and set me up.”
“There’s nothing to work out besides the annulment.”
But Austin was right...Brady was a beautiful man. He’d filled out his tuxedo perfectly. Yes, it definitely had been custom-made for him and she knew how perfect that body was underneath the fabric. But the formal garment highlighted the very informal way his dark hair curled above the collar, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief as he chatted. Any man looked beautiful in a tux, but Brady owned it.
Being in the same room with him had felt familiar and right, something she hadn’t experienced in the last week of feeling out of sorts. How could she miss someone who she’d only known for thirty-six hours? It would certainly make this easier if she hadn’t had such a good time with him in Vegas.
She shook her head. She needed to stop being so ridiculous about all this. She refused to be an emotional mess. The wedding last week had just thrown her a bit off kilter. Maybe that was how she’d ended up in her own impromptu wedding.
When Mac had gotten married, things had changed, and maybe, she’d lost her mooring. He’d been her best friend for years. He’d stood by her through all her other marriages and subsequent divorces. She missed having his shoulder to cry on right now. If he were here, he’d be plying her with good champagne with the promise to help her nurse her hangover with greasy pizza and sappy rom-com movies tomorrow. But he was on his honeymoon, and she had Austin instead.
“Why do you think we did it?” she mused.
“Did what?” Austin tilted his head in question.
“Got married. He doesn’t strike me as the settling down type. I wish I could remember more.” She rubbed her forehead as if she could uncover those memories that were in there somewhere.
“Well, I don’t know about him, but good god, I know what you were thinking. That man is a fine specimen. If he’s half as good in bed as he looks...” Austin raised both eyebrows as if he dared her to answer.
“Better.” She sighed. “But hell, he’s a baby compared to me. I’m probably old enough to be his mother.” She was thirty-seven years old. Brady was barely in his twenties.
Austin scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous. Maybe an older aunt, but darling, you have kept yourself in prime shape. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
“Compared to the Anyas of this world? Seriously, Austin, why?” She didn’t even know exactly what she was asking. She was confident about her life. The last four years had molded her into someone she felt good about...now. She’d fought hard for that self-acceptance after the devastating blow her confidence had taken after her last divorce. But... “Do you realize this is my fourth marriage? How did I become just like my parents? I need to boycott men in my life except the gay ones and just live with cats.”
Austin shook his head at her. “While we gay men are fabulous,” he said with a mock falsetto to his voice, “I don’t think we can do anything to help keep your bed warm at night.” He laughed.
“That’s why vibrators were invented. All the pleasure, none of the alimony or lawyers. It’s a win/win.”
But he was right. It wasn’t the same, especially after having someone like Brady in her bed...
Chapter Six
Brady sat at the piano in his penthouse apartment, staring out at the late afternoon sunshine, and willed for something to come through. A tune. A melody. Hell, even a cheesy hip-hop song would work. But his brain echoed in silence.
Nothing.
He blew out a frustrated breath.
Okay, he could do this. His music muse just needed some encouragement. He laid his fingers on the keys and launched into the symphony he’d written when he was seventeen.
He’d played it thousands of times, but today, even that haunting melody sounded discordant and out of sync.
He lifted his fingers from the keys, shook them out, and began again. It sounded so much worse. His timing was off. Hell, his entire brain was off and had been for days.
He pounded his hands on the keys in frustration and slammed the key cover down.
“Whoa.” Luke walked in, holding two beers. “What did that piano ever do to you?”
“Fuck.” Brady dropped his head in his hands. “Nothing.” He lifted his head and ran his fingers along the black lacquer of the piano. “This piano is a work of art, and my father would disown me if he’d seen what I just did to it. It’s all in my head. The music’s gone, Luke. What the fuck am I going to do?”
Luke was his employee, but they’d been together a long time. He’d become Brady’s driver and bodyguard when Brady was only seventeen. Luke had been twenty-six and just out of the army. Brady had been in awe of the big, older, cooler guy who could navigate the New York City streets like he’d been doing it for decades. They’d formed an unlikely friendship, and now, Luke was one of his most trusted friends.
Brady’s penthouse apartment was a two-story affair with his music room on the second floor. But the downstairs neighbors had still complained about the music that he played at all hours of the day and night. As a solution, Brady had bought the apartment directly below his music room that was the most affected by the sound. Luke lived in it now.
It was convenient for Brady and for Luke, but the downside was when things weren’t going well with his music, Luke was the first to know.
Luke shoved a beer bottle into his hand. “I don’t know, man. I don’t remember ever seeing you this stuck. I think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Going for your first solo movie soundtrack while you’re trying to write the music for your solo album is a lot at once. Pile that on top of the holidays and all your women trouble...” Luke shook his head. “Of course, you’re reacting to the pressure. You need to give yourself a break.”
Brady took a long draw off his beer. As Brady’s driver, Luke had seen the drama unfold with Anya the other night when Brady had permanently broken off their arrangement. After they dropped her off, he’d gotten into the front seat with Luke and had proceeded to explain the bombshell that Emily had dropped on him. It had been quite the night.
Luke started to say more, but Brady’s cell phone rang. He had no intention of answering it, because he didn’t want to talk to anyone. But a glance at the screen told him to take this call.
“Hang on. I need to take this. It’s my lawyer,” he said to Luke and answered the phone. “Harvey, this is Brady. What did you find out?”
“I’ve done a little bit of research, and the really good news is that there’s video footage of the two of you getting married,” Harvey said.
Brady’s stomach plummeted. He already got flack about being so young in this industry. If video of him drunk off his ass and making really questionable life-choices got released, his reputation would be shredded. “How is that good news?”
“It proves you weren’t able to make sound decisions and basically were not of sound mind. It’s a very good argument for a judge to give an annulment.”
That made sense, no matter how much Brady hated it. Brady nodded and rubbed his eyes. “Okay, so where do we go from here?”
“You have two choices. I have some paperwork that Emily Hodges needs to sign. I can have it served to her, but sometimes in these type of cases, it’s better for the two parties to maintain cooperative contact. In that instance, you would want to get her to sign it yourself.”
That would give him the excuse to see Emily again.
In the three days since he’d seen her at the family party, her phone number had been mocking him from where he’d saved it on his cell phone. He desperately wanted to talk to her. “I’ll do it. Is the paperwork ready now?”
“Yes. I can have my receptionist hold it for you at the front desk, or I can courier it to you.”
“I’ll come by.” He glanced down at his watch. “Probably within the next thirty minutes.”
A mournful melody filtered through Brady’s brain. “Sounds good.” He quickly ended the call and flipped open the lid to the piano keys and played the notes in his mind. That was it. He quickly scribbled them down until the music ran out and his brain ran silent again.
It hadn’t been much, but it was something. He’d take it.
He grinned over at Luke, who knew better than to interrupt while the music flowed. “Come on. We need to go by my lawyer’s office, and then I need to see if my wife will join me for a late afternoon coffee.”
“Man, ‘wife’ sounds so weird coming out of your mouth,” Luke said.
Brady laughed, but he had to disagree. It actually gave him a warm feeling in his gut when he said the word.
That was the weirdest part.
AN HOUR LATER, BRADY rode the elevator to Emily’s apartment. She’d been free to meet him today. With the sensitive nature of their discussion, she’d suggested he come to her apartment, so they could talk without anyone listening in on their conversation.
The doorman had called up to her apartment, so she knew he was coming. But as he stepped to her door, he was suddenly nervous. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and then knocked.
The door swung open, and he got his first glimpse of her. Every time he’d seen her before this afternoon, she’d been dressed up. In Vegas, she’d been dressed for clubbing, and then the other night, his family party had been a formal affair.
This evening, she wore fitted, skinny jeans and a big, oatmeal colored sweater that hung off one shoulder, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of silky skin that he knew felt even softer and smoother than it looked. His fingers itched to touch. Even her bare feet were sexy and casual with those polished, red toenails.
But instead of reaching for her like he ached to do, he fisted his hand and smiled as he leaned forward to brush a kiss on her cheek. He had to keep this casual. “Hi, Emily. Thank you so much for seeing me on such short notice.”