He sat in the corner of the dining area, a baseball cap with a flat rim hanging low over his forehead. Under the hat, I couldn’t tell if he had grown his hair out or if it was still his usual buzz cut. His eyes were glued to his untouched fries, and I wondered if he was praying that I wouldn’t show up.
For a moment, I hovered by the door, unsure of whether I should go to him or pick up a burger first. I decided on the burger. It looked like we could both use a few extra minutes to get our heads on straight.
By the time I was walking over with my tray, his head had lifted, and his gray gaze tracked my movements. Ma always said we had the exact same eyes. Sometimes their light shade made people uncomfortable. I gave him a half-smile, testing how he’d respond. Not great. His jaw got so tight, I thought there was a risk of him cracking a tooth.
I lowered the tray down and slid into the booth to sit across from him. He watched me in silence.
“Hey, Fox. How are you?”
He didn’t answer at first. His gaze flickered over me, he sniffed, and then he rolled his tongue over his front teeth.
“You don’t look like you.”
“Cocaine and vodka went out of fashion.” I fingered a fry and popped it into my mouth.
“You ain’t doing that anymore, huh?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “On the drive over, I kept thinking, there ain’t no way that fucker is clean. But I guess I shoulda known that money can fix a lot of problems. Even one as big as you.”
His accent reminded me of home, and despite the harshness of his words, a part of me wanted to smile at the memories flooding back. Memories of better times, before I fucked it all up.
Focus, I reminded myself. Show him this matters to you.
“The money did help. But there are plenty of rich addicts, Fox. I’m not clean because I paid someone to do the work for me. I’m clean because I’m done fucking up my life.”
“Huh,” he said, putting his forearms on the table and leaning forward. “And what about the other lives you ruined? Can they be fixed by going to a fancy rehab resort and signing up for a twelve-step program?”
“No, I suppose they can’t,” I admitted after a moment. I knew where he was heading with this, and hell if I didn’t deserve it.
Fox’s mouth thinned. He shifted back in his seat. “Well, looks like you’ve stopped weaving fairytales. Iris would surely miss that about you. When she came begging me to take her back, she said, ‘With a voice like that, he can make you believe anything.’ She was right. You made her believe that a drugged-up rock star was a better man for her than her husband of five years. What a fuckin’ fairytale indeed.”
I bit on my tongue and tasted blood, but the pain only served as a reminder that what I’d inflicted on Fox was a thousand times worse. The most fucked-up thing was that I couldn’t even remember how I’d convinced Iris to leave Fox and go on tour with me.
“Fox.” I exhaled a long breath. “I don’t really know what to say. What I did was unforgivable, but I still want to apologize to you. Just thinking about it makes me nauseous. I did a lot of awful things in those years, things I wish I could forget, but taking Iris from you… I’m so goddamn sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
He listened to me, his jaw shifting back and forth. I saw the pain clearly on his face, and it was a punch in the gut. I kind of wished he’d punch me for real.
“I’m still pretty shocked you agreed to meet me,” I added when he stayed silent. “I know how hard this must be for you.”
He scoffed. “This? This is fuckin’ nothing compared to Iris walking out on me ’cause she thought she was infatuated with you. I told her she’d last two weeks tops. Turned out it was only one. Not only did you create the mess, but I was the one who had to clean it up when she came crawling back.”
“I’m so sorry, Fox,” I said, shaking my head. Shame prickled the back of my neck. How the hell was it possible for me to fuck two people’s lives up this badly and not remember how I did it?
He sneered at me and looked to the side.
“I didn’t know what I was doing,” I said. “The state I was in—most days I couldn’t tell the difference between a street pole and a woman.”
The sneer eased off his face.
“I once woke up hugging a traffic cone I’d found on the road and dragged back to the bus,” I added.
One corner of his lips twitched up. It wasn’t much, but I’d take it.
“Look, you can tell me to shove my apology up my ass and leave now. You wouldn’t be the first one. But if you’re up to it, I’d really like to keep talking.”
Fox zeroed in on me and sighed. It was the first sound out of him that wasn’t all shards of glass. I raised my brows, waiting for his answer.
He lifted his hat—buzz cut—and ran a hand over his stubbly hair before putting the hat back down. “You were right before, Jamie. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you. But I’ve always believed it takes two to tango, and as much as Iris was spellbound by you, I’ve always known the truth. You ain’t nothing special. She just picked the wrong guy.”
“Yeah, she did.”
“And you’re saying you’re different now?”
I rubbed my arms. “Trying really hard to be.”
He scrutinized me before glancing out the window. “Well, I hope you succeed.” Then he faced me again, his expression skeptical. “A goddamn traffic cone?”
A chuckle burst out of me. “Yeah. To be fair, even that’s more action than I’ve gotten since rehab.”
“Oh, Jesus.” Fox snorted. “You become a priest? How’s that going for ya?”
My thoughts went to Ivy and how maybe my reaction to her meant I needed to start getting out there again. Clearly, I had some pent-up energy to work off. “I’m leaning toward atheism.”
That earned me an honest-to-god laugh, and I grinned. “What about you? You seeing anyone new now?”
Fox stopped laughing and leveled me with a dark look. “Might be. But that’s not something I’m about to discuss with you, so we better move to a different topic.”
Couldn’t blame him for that. “Fair enough.” I popped another fry in my mouth and leaned back against the backrest. “So how are you doing overall?”
He shrugged. “Fine. I’m running an auto shop not far from here. Business has been good. Clientele’s steady. A bunch of fancy types, actors and producers and all that LA shit. I’m saving up so that I can open another location in a few years. Then I’ll open a few more and hire someone to manage it all. That’s my path to early retirement.”
“You still going after that, huh?” Before Fox had even graduated from high school, he was already making business plans for how he’d retire before forty.
“Hell yeah,” he said, finally picking up one of his cold fries. “I don’t wanna work for the rest of my life. I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor. You know how it is. You’re living it now.”
I looked down at my burger. “You’d be surprised.”
“What do you mean? Ten-year career, all those platinum albums, and you still ain’t got enough?”
Did I want to go there with him? I hadn’t talked about the lawsuit with anyone but my lawyers and Nial, but maybe if Fox knew, he’d start to understand where I was coming from.
“I made money, but probably not nearly as much as you think,” I said, lifting my gaze back to him and taking a sip of my soda. “I had a shit contract. In short, I got screwed.”
His eyes widened. “For real? How the hell did that happen?”
“You remember how I was when it all started. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was an awkward nineteen-year-old in community college when I met Oliver. He gave me the opportunity of a lifetime, or at least, that’s what it seemed like back then. I would have signed anything he put in front of me.”
Fox stroked his chin. “So Oliver gave you a bad deal?”
“Him and his father. We were signed to his dad’s label the entire time. They wrote the contracts, and I didn’t have the money
or knowledge to hire a lawyer.”
He whistled. “Holy shit. You know, something about that guy always seemed off to me.”
“Oliver?”
“Yeah. I can’t explain it, but whenever we’d talk, I’d feel like he was…scheming. Do you know what I mean?”
Did I fucking ever. Unlike Fox, it had taken me a long time to see it.
“So that’s it?” Fox asked. “There’s nothing you can do to get your money?”
“I’m fighting him in court now, but it’s too early to say who’ll win.”
“Well, fuck that. You deserve your due.” He pursed his lips. “I liked your music. Your second album was my favorite. After the shit with Iris went down, I stopped listening to it, but that was because of the association with you, not because the music was bad.”
Fox was two years older than me, and I’d looked up to him growing up. When things with Ritual Disruption first started taking off, he’d been so happy for me. Before I betrayed his trust, he’d been one of my biggest supporters. Even when I was already drinking more than I should have, he’d always made a point to call and check in. When the calls finally stopped, I was too far gone to even notice.
“Is it true that Oliver wrote everything?” he asked suddenly. “You know, I remember always thinking those lyrics sounded like something you’d write. They reminded me of that poetry you showed me back in high school.”
I winced, and Fox narrowed his eyes. Now we were really wading into the muck.
“Did I hit on something there?”
I ran a hand over my mouth. “It’s a long story, Fox. It’s literally the story of my life. I don’t know how much time you have, and I don’t want to start telling you something I won’t be able to finish.”
The corners of his lips turned up, and he leaned across the table. “I’ve got time, cousin. Maybe hearing the full story will help me understand how you got to such a bad place, and how you managed to get out.”
I lifted the burger, cold now, and looked at Fox. “Let’s eat. Then I’ll tell you everything.”
We sat in that In-N-Out for two more hours while I told him everything from the very beginning.
When I finished, Fox looked like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. Shaking his head for the thousandth time, he said, “It makes so much sense now. I never fully understood how a shy, insecure kid like you could find the guts to do what you did. We didn’t see each other for a few years after you dropped out of college and moved to New York, and then I came to your show in Dallas and thought, shit! Jamie ain’t no Silent J no more.”
“I remember when you came to that show. That was probably the best tour of my life. It was right when I was starting to see the benefits from all the live performance coaching, and I was trying to change how we were running things in the band. The problem was that was exactly what Oliver didn’t want me doing.”
“So he tried a different approach,” Fox concluded easily, armed with the new information I had shared.
“Yeah. It worked. He got five more years out of me before I finally walked away.”
Fox lifted his cap to run his hand over his hair. I don’t think he even noticed when he did it. “Good for you, J.”
Emotion flooded my chest and rose until I felt it in my throat. I wouldn’t cry—hadn’t since I was a kid—but I struggled to respond. His eyes softened. “Have you told me everything? Or was there more?”
I shook my head. “That’s all. You don’t think it’s enough?”
“I think it’s plenty,” he said with a dark laugh. “Now don’t go thinking all is fuckin’ jolly between us, but hearing about all the shit you were handed does make me feel a bit more sympathetic. For years, I wanted to make you feel the pain you caused me, and shit, looks like maybe you already did.” He let out a long exhale. “I’m glad we talked.”
“Me, too.” This time, he returned my smile. “Can we hang out again sometime?” I asked. “If it’s too much too soon, I get it. But I really could use a new friend. Or an old friend who no longer wants to kill me.”
“No longer wants to kill you? You’ve become a fuckin’ optimist, huh?” Fox chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll see you again. Maybe next time you can treat me to a real dinner instead of goddamn In-N-Out.”
“You’re the one who picked this place,” I exclaimed.
We fell into a familiar banter, and by the time I was back in my car, my cheeks hurt from laughing so much. I’d missed Fox.
I’d missed so many things.
11
IVY
At ten pm sharp, I stood waiting for Mimi in the hallway in my skinny jeans and a tube top that cut above my belly button. I was contoured, powdered, and highlighted to death, and when I looked in the mirror, I was pleased. My face had been transformed.
At ten fifteen, Mimi still hadn’t emerged from her apartment, so I mustered up the courage to knock. After about a minute, the door opened. Mimi stood in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, her face scrunched in confusion, as if she had just woken from a nap.
“Uh, hi,” I said awkwardly. “Are we still going out?”
Her eyes widened in recognition. “Ivy! Oh, shit, sorry, I fell asleep after smoking a bowl. My bad. I need ten minutes, okay? Come on in while you wait.”
I stepped into her apartment and was greeted by a mess. It looked like she hadn’t washed her dishes in at least a few days. Pizza boxes were stacked on the kitchen island, the top one open to reveal a half-eaten slice. A dirty pan sat on the stove, remnants of what looked like scrambled egg caked to its surface.
Something fell inside her bedroom.
“You okay?” I called out, glancing over at the sofa. It was covered with about four different blankets, all of them tangled together. A sad-looking pillow peeked out on one end. Maybe this is where Mimi had taken her nap.
“Shit. Fine! Dropped something off my desk. Make yourself at home! There might be a beer in the fridge if Evan didn’t drink them all this morning.”
I felt like a jerk even as I wrinkled my nose in disapproval. Who drank beers in the morning? People like Jamie. People I didn’t like.
She did just break up with Evan, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the drinking. An anxious feeling rose in my chest. Maybe Zoey was right. Was I being crazy going clubbing with a girl I had just met?
“Ready,” Mimi exclaimed, coming out of her room in a strappy mini dress that highlighted her curves. Her lips were painted red, her eyes lined with thick eyeliner. She gave off an Amy Winehouse vibe, and when she sashayed to put on ballet flats by the door, I suspected it may have been intentional.
“So you excited? Nervous?” she asked, grinning up at me as she slid on the right shoe, balancing herself by holding the wall.
“A little,” I admitted.
“You’ve never gone clubbing before?”
“I have,” I rushed to clarify. It was the truth. I went to two clubs on tour with Bleeding Moonlight. “But it’s been a few years.”
“Ah, so you used to be a wild child, huh?” she said, straightening back up and opening a small closet by the door to rummage for something. “Me, too. That phase just never ended for me. Why should it? I’m having too much fun to stop.”
“Are you from LA?” I asked, walking toward her.
“Hell no. I’m from a small town in northern California. Moved here for school two years ago.”
“You go to UCLA?”
“Did. Dropped out a month in,” she said with a shrug and pulled out a tiny black latex purse. Sliding past me, she pulled open a kitchen drawer and grabbed something small I couldn’t make out before putting it into her purse.
“Okay, ready! Let’s move!”
We made our way to the stairs. “If you’re not in school, what are you doing now?”
She paused to pop a piece of gum in her mouth and offered me a piece. I refused.
“I freelance,” she said ambiguously and didn’t elaborate. “I love LA, though. There’s so many opportuniti
es here, you know? I meet so many people, and all of them are doing something interesting. It’s exciting, don’t you think?”
I worried my lip as we continued our path downstairs, considering how much I should share with her. If I wanted her help, wouldn’t it make sense to tell her what I was hoping to accomplish today?
“I don’t meet a ton of folks,” I admitted. “Zoey and I are childhood friends, and I have a handful of other folks I know from my classes, but I’m not very outgoing.”
She looked at me over her shoulder. “For real? You made friends easily enough with me.”
I rubbed my arm. “I was a bit…agitated. I wasn’t acting like myself, to be honest.”
“Oh, right,” she exclaimed, slapping her palm on her forehead. “You said someone broke up with you, right? God, I’m such an idiot. I completely forgot.”
“No, don’t worry about it. And, yeah. We were more friends with benefits, but…”
“Been there,” she said, drawing out the Es in been. “It’s okay, I got you, babe. Tonight, we’re going to make you forget all about him.”
I didn’t need much help forgetting about Jack, but Oliver was a whole other story. “That’s what I’m hoping for, but I don’t know how good I’m going to be at meeting people.”
We stepped out onto the street, and she opened up the Uber app on her phone. “If you’re really worried, I have something that will take care of that in a pinch.”
She lifted her gaze to mine. I noticed that one of her eyes was a darker blue than the other.
“What is it?”
“You ever taken Molly?”
“No.”
“You know what it is?”
My pulse sped up. I knew Molly was a party drug, but that was the extent of my knowledge. I’d never taken drugs, have never even smoked weed, which was considered to be less of a substance than alcohol in my home. Still, I nodded.
“Yeah.”
“I have some if you want it.”
Pretty Words: An Enemies To Lovers Rock Star Romance (River Valley Rebels) Page 14