“I don’t want to play.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Just contemplating my entire existence.”
She sighs. “I’m not pregnant, Garrett. I just got my period, so you can breathe easily again.”
“Good.” I give her a squeeze. “But it’s not just that.”
She turns around and straddles me. “Just because you didn’t get into the program, doesn’t mean there aren’t others. There are a lot of music teachers in New York City.”
“Gunther isn’t just a music teacher. He’s a legend. A god. One of a kind.”
“But surely there are others who are almost as good. You can’t give up your dream because one man turned you down.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “What do you dream about?”
“Same as you. Bright lights, big stages.”
“And the money? Do you dream about that?”
“I used to, but not in a rich and famous kind of way. When I was younger, before I found out I could play guitar and sing, I dreamed of being adopted by a rich family. They had these adoption fairs, where foster kids mingled with couples looking to adopt. It was pathetic. Everyone knew it was a sham. We put on our best clothes, plastered on our practiced smiles, and pretended we weren’t the damaged kids we were. It wasn’t until I was eleven or twelve that I saw it for what it was—a garage sale. Only instead of trying to get rid of your old toaster by claiming it still works, you try to get rid of unwanted or orphaned kids, claiming they’re shiny and perfect.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you. It must have been hard.”
“My foster parents told me how it worked, that it was the youngest kids who got picked. There might have been a chance when I was six or seven, had I not been violent and acting out all the time. By the time I became somewhat normal, I was almost ten. Nobody adopts kids over ten.”
“Don’t hit me, but sometimes I dreamed about not being raised by rich parents. About a dad who would take me to the ballpark and then out for pizza. And a mom who didn’t hire nannies to raise me and drivers to take me to school.”
“We dream about what we can’t have. The grass is always greener, or some crap like that.”
“Do you think I’m crazy to dream of playing in a famous rock band one day?”
She wraps her arms around my neck. “If I had a million dollars, I’d bet it all that you will, with or without Gunther Grumley.”
I kiss her. “You asked me before if I hate you. You’re the best thing about my life. I love you.”
Tears make her eyes glisten. “You do?”
“The question is, will you still love me even if I’m not a famous musician?”
“You will be.” She snuggles closer. “But yes, I’ll love you always and forever, Garrett Young.”
Chapter Twenty
Reece
I run off the stage after my second opening act, sad that I’ll only get to do it once more. I’ll still sing “Swerve” with RA thirty-one more times, but being a guest singer isn’t anything like being out in front, playing my guitar, the center of attention for twelve whole songs. People might even google me.
They won’t find much, maybe a few old YouTube videos. My songs aren’t on the radio. My albums aren’t for sale. I don’t even have a Wikipedia page. Seems strange I’m getting to do all this without any of that. It makes sense why Garrett is so bitter. The rest of them had to work hard to get where they are.
I go over to Maddox, pushing away the guilt.
“You were fantastic!” he says. “I wish I could stay for every concert.”
“I’m bummed you have to leave tomorrow.”
“This way, Ms. Mancini,” a stagehand says. “You’re needed backstage.”
We follow him back to where Reckless Alibi is getting ready and see a familiar face. “Ronni, I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
“When I found out what a hit you were, I booked a flight.”
I’m glad I didn’t know she was here. Playing in front of ten thousand fans is one thing. Having Queen Bitch of the Universe scrutinizing me is another thing entirely. She’s so intimidating. “What did you think?”
She smiles—what a shock. “I just got off the phone with Niles and it appears I’m looking at IRL’s newest artist.”
My heart stops for a second. “Are you serious?”
“I never joke when it comes to business.”
I jump into Maddox’s arms. “Maybe this is a dumb question,” he says. “But, who is Niles?”
“He’s Ronni’s boss,” I squeal. “The president of IRL, Mad. And he wants me!”
Everyone comes over to see what’s happening.
“What’s up?” Crew asks.
“Reece Mancini was just picked up by IRL,” Ronni says. “If she agrees to sign with us, that is.”
Bria looks excited. Crew and Liam immediately turn to Garrett, who shakes his head. “No fucking way, Ronni.”
“Did you not hear her out there? She’s going to be a gold mine. Niles watched our live stream and agrees with me one hundred percent.”
Garrett paces. “I own the company, and I’m saying no.”
“You aren’t the only owner. If you recall, you kept Niles on as president. What was it you said? Oh, yes, that you had no idea how to run a record label. Well, guess what? We do, and our advice to the owners is to sign her now before labels start fighting over her.”
“Can you believe this shit?” Garrett says and turns to his friends. “You really aren’t going to back me up?”
Liam says, “Ronni’s right, G. Reece is good. Amazing even. It’s a good business decision.”
“I’m not touring with her again.”
“You don’t have to,” Ronni says. “I already have plans for her.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You do?”
“Shortly after this tour ends, you will have a five-week gig in Canada. Nothing as big as this, and you’ll be sleeping on a bus, not at the Ritz, but you’ll get exposure, along with five other up-and-coming bands. It’ll be tight. I want you in the recording studio the week you get back, so we can cut your album. I’ll have to work some magic to get your songs on the radio in record time, but … I’m me, so I’ll get it done.”
“With what band?”
“The house band.”
“They’ll go with me to Canada? And I’ll be solo artist Reece Mancini?”
“Yes, on both counts. You’re the talent. People deserve to know that. Your name is unique and recognizable. Your life is about to change in a major way.” She turns to Garrett. “And you can thank him for all of it. If he hadn’t stolen your lyrics, you’d still be waiting tables.”
“But I thought you hated me.”
She curls her lip. “I hate everyone. So you’ll do it?”
Maddox steps in. “Aren’t there contracts to sign? She’ll probably want her lawyer to have a look.”
“I’ll work up the contract and email it to you. Show it to whomever you like.”
Garrett says, “You’re all forgetting what the hell we’re here for. Reckless Alibi has to be onstage in three minutes. Mind if we go to fucking work now?”
“Congratulations, Reece,” Bria says. “I knew big things were in store for you.”
“Thanks.”
The five of them huddle and shout and then run into the hall. Iggy stays behind to give me a kiss before running after his bandmates.
When Maddox and I are alone, I wipe my mouth and run for a bottle of water.
He follows. “What is it?”
I swish water and spit it into a nearby trashcan. Then I do it again. “It’s Iggy. He tastes like drugs. I knew he was doing a little coke, but I tasted meth.”
“How in the hell do you know what meth tastes like?”
“I grew up in the system, Maddox. I kissed a lot of meth heads in my day. It has a burnt plastic and ammonia taste.”
“That’s pretty hard core.”
“I should tell the ot
hers. It could impede his performance.”
“I thought you said a lot of musicians do drugs. You told me it’s expected even.”
“Pot, yeah. Sometimes coke. But meth is in a class of its own. I guarantee the rest of RA has no idea he’s doing it. They don’t even want him smoking cigarettes.”
“But I’ve seen Garrett smoke.”
“He just does it out of spite.”
“Spite for what?”
I shrug. “Me.”
“I’m not sure you want to get in the middle of rock band drama. Besides, we have so much to celebrate. Jesus, Reece, you’re getting signed by a record label.”
I squeal and hug him. “It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”
He nods to the hallway. “Go sing your song, then let’s blow this place. I’m taking you out.”
~ ~ ~
We’re ushered out the back door by event security. There’s a limo waiting. Not the one that brought us from the hotel, a different one. “What did you do?”
“Only the best for my rock star bestie.”
“You can’t afford this.”
“You can pay me back six months from now.”
“How did you set this up in thirty minutes?”
“I have connections.”
I stare him down.
“Okay, so that Ronni chick has connections. I think she likes me. She slipped me her number and said she’d only be in town one night.”
My jaw drops. “Really?”
“You forget I’m a catch. You may not find my bulging muscles and man meat attractive, but a lot of women do.”
I hoot with laughter. “Man meat?”
He opens the limo door. There’s a bottle of champagne on ice. Maddox pulls it out of the bucket, studies it, then opens the partition and asks the driver to take us to a high-end liquor store. “This isn’t nearly good enough for the occasion.”
I take it from him. “We’re not going to waste it.” I pop the cork and drink from the bottle.
By the time we get to the liquor store, we’re both tipsy. We locate the locked cooler with the expensive booze. He summons the cashier and points to a two-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne. “That one. Only the best for Reece Mancini.”
“Who’s that?” the cashier asks.
“Who’s Reece Mancini? Only the next Katy Perry. No—Britney Spears. Actually, she’s going to be bigger than them. You could quite possibly be standing next to the hottest thing to hit the radio since —” He scrunches his brows. “Who was big back in the day? Whitney Houston? Yeah, she’s going to be bigger than her. She’s going to be a star. You know what? You better make it two bottles.”
I grab his arm. “Maddox!”
“You’ll be able to buy these for breakfast pretty soon. Get used to it.”
I giggle as he pays the stunned cashier.
We run out to the limo, and he pours us each a glass. “Get your Grammy speech ready, babe. You’re going to need it.” He starts to drink but stops. “You’d better thank me, Reece.”
I laugh at his ridiculousness. “Sure thing.”
“I’m serious. I want to be thanked as ‘Maddox McBride, my very best friend and biggest supporter.’ Got it? Exactly like that.”
I roll my eyes. “Shut up.”
Four hours later, after having dinner at a place neither of us can afford, we stumble into the hotel with the second bottle of champagne. Up on our floor, I’m surprised to see Garrett. I laugh boisterously. “Alert the press. The famous Garrett Young isn’t taking a half-naked groupie to his hotel room.”
He appraises our condition, then sneers at the pricey bottle in Maddox’s hand. Then he eyes my deep cleavage. “Like you’re one to talk. You look like a hooker.”
Maddox takes an aggressive step toward him. “Why don’t you shut the hell up. You know she has to wear this shit.”
“Still. If the shoe fits.”
“Back off, man.”
Garrett comes at Maddox. “Why don’t you back off?”
Maddox stands his ground. “I think you should go inside.”
“You go inside.”
I get out my key. “Maddox, let’s go.”
“Yeah, go do what you do best.”
“What’s that?”
“Fuck whoever you’re with.”
Maddox lunges at him, but I hold him back. “Don’t. Let’s just go in.”
Garrett doesn’t move as we go inside. Maddox is pissed. “You can’t let him talk to you like that. The guy needs a lesson in social etiquette.”
“And you’re going to teach him?”
“Someone has to.”
“You can’t. His hands.”
“Now you’re defending him?”
“He needs his hands to play. If you get into a fight, he’ll fight back. What if he breaks something?”
“It would be his own damn fault.”
“I know.” I sit on the couch. “But I want this for him. He’s earned it. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize it.”
“Seems to me he’s doing that on his own.”
“By being jealous?”
“By being a complete asshole.”
“You said you thought he still has feelings for me.”
“He has one hell of a way of showing them, doesn’t he?”
“As if I wouldn’t have acted the same way if I’d seen him carrying a bottle of champagne and escorting a girl into his hotel room.” I pull a pillow onto my lap. “I should have stayed quiet. I’m the one who instigated it.”
He takes a swig from the bottle. “You two are something else. You need to work your shit out before you ruin each other’s careers.”
I take the bottle from him and finish it off. “I think it might be too late for us to work anything out.” I hop off the couch. “Goodnight, Mad. Are you sure you’re okay on the couch?”
“I’m sure, and Reece? Congratulations. No one deserves it more than you.”
He’s wrong. Everyone is wrong. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve anything. Not after what I’ve done.
Chapter Twenty-one
Garrett
Everyone went out to dinner except me. I ordered room service. It’s a night off. I should be out with my friends, but she’s there. I can’t stand to be across the table from her and Maddox. Or her and Iggy. Or just her.
Does she seriously think what she did to me is okay? She hasn’t apologized. She hasn’t even told my friends what she did. As she’s become closer to Bria and Ella, I thought she’d tell them, but nobody has said anything.
She betrayed me, and I stole her song. But we’re nowhere near even. And now she’s getting signed by IRL. I toss back another shot of whiskey, thinking how I should have put my foot down and told her to find another record label. Except right now she’s a nobody. Until she has a radio presence and albums to sell, she might as well be any other wannabe with a guitar.
Why the hell do you even care?
I shouldn’t care.
I try to tell myself I don’t care.
But I know I’m lying.
There’s a knock on the door. It’s room service with my dinner. I run into the table and stub my toe. Motherfucker. I look at the half-empty bottle of whiskey, wondering when I drank that much.
The waiter puts my food on the table. I hand him a tip. As he’s leaving, I do a double take because I think I see Reece in the hall. It is her. What’s she doing here? I poke my head out the door. “I thought you went to dinner.”
She turns, surprised. “I thought you went to dinner.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t going? That way, I could have.”
“First off, I did tell you I wasn’t going. I told everyone I was seeing Maddox off at the airport. If you would bother listening once in a while, you’d know.”
“I would listen, but when I do, all I hear is blah, blah, blah.”
“You’re an asshole, Garrett.”
“Yeah? Well you’re a slut. Did you have one last qu
ickie with your groupie at the airport? Maybe a blow job in the bathroom?”
“You must be confusing me with you. You’re the man-whore.”
“At least I didn’t fuck your sister,” I yell.
The elevator dings, and Crew and the others come into view. They look at us. “We could hear you even before the doors opened. Maybe you need to chill.”
Ella moves toward Reece. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“She doesn’t,” I say, pissed. “So there’s no way in hell she could possibly understand what a dick move it is to sleep with someone’s brother. That it’s the lowest of low. That it’s even sluttier than fucking a best friend.”
Bria’s confused. “What are we missing?”
“She married my goddamn brother, okay? When I was in Australia studying under the best drummer to ever grace the earth. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”
Jaws hit the floor. “Dude,” Liam says. “Your brother married your girlfriend? That’s cold.”
“Fuck you,” I tell him. I turn to Reece. “And fuck you, too.”
“You don’t know the whole story,” she slurs. “I was eighteen and alone. You left me.”
“To follow my goddamn dream.”
“Because I wasn’t enough for you.”
Four pairs of eyes are watching us spar like they’re at a boxing match.
Reece’s eyes are glassed over. “You obviously got drunk with your friend. Go back to your room and sleep it off.”
“What I’ve been doing is none of your business.”
A door down the hall opens, and a woman peeks out. “Would you please keep it down?”
“Gladly,” I say and retreat into my room.
Before I can shut the door, Reece follows me in. “What’s your problem, Garrett?”
“You’re my problem. First you crash my tour. Then you get signed by my goddamn record label. You’re fucking everywhere. I wanted you out of my life six years ago, and I want you out of it now.”
“That’s not going to happen. We’re stuck with each other for the next eight weeks. Even after the tour, because of IRL, we’re going to see each other. You don’t have to like it, but the least you can do is be cordial.”
Reckless Reunion (The Reckless Rockstar Series) Page 13