by Shayne Ford
Tucked under Steve’s arm, Lana shouts and kicks, cursing like a lunatic all the way to the exit door.
I wish the ground could open to bury myself in it. We got more publicity than we needed and not the kind that we wanted.
I’m sure Lana thinks she killed two birds with one stone. She made Layla feel the wrath of her furry and scored points with the celebrity bloggers who drool over juicy bits.
Politely, I announce a short break, make a joke about the scandal, slip off the stage, and pace to the back room, seething with anger.
“What the hell was that, man?” Liam mutters, running a towel over his face.
Lucas is about to try a smile, and then he meets my glare. Swiftly he changes his mind and pulls away.
Jay’s back is turned to me.
“Did you invite her?” I shout to him from across the room.
Silence falls between us like a guillotine.
Pretending he hasn’t heard me, he takes his soaked T-shirt off and puts a clean one on.
“Jay?” I thunder.
He doesn’t turn to me. I swagger to him.
“What do you want from me, River?”
“Did you give her a pass?”
“No, I did not,” he says, averting his eyes.
I grab his shoulder, and he turns to me, his eyes blazing, dark.
“Get your fucking hand off me!” he growls, yanking my hand off him.
“I asked you something,” I snarl.
“And I fucking answered it. What the fuck is your fucking problem?”
“My problem is, I didn’t invite her, and no one else was supposed to either. I made it fucking clear.”
“I’m not responsible for your tail business, River. Why don’t you go and fuck yourself?”
He doesn’t even finish the last words and my fist crashes in his chest. He loses his balance for a moment and then he lunges at me, just as the door opens and Ron enters the room.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asks his eyes darting between Jay and me.
Jay’s gaze swings to Ron.
“I didn’t invite Lana,” he says defensively.
Had he talked to me like that, I would’ve believed him.
“I did,” Ron says, and we both whip our heads to him.
“How the hell am I supposed to know she’s a fucking nutcase?”
My hands ball up into fists. Swallowing my frustration, I turn my back to them.
“I need a moment with River,” Ron says.
The door to the adjacent room opens and closes as Liam, Lucas and Jay leave.
Ron pivots in front of me.
“What the fuck is wrong with her, River?” he asks quietly. I look at him unable to unclench my teeth. “I didn’t know she’s fucking unhinged. I would’ve never given her the pass,” he says. “I actually didn’t think much of it. She was the one who called me and asked for one.”
“I told you I cut her lose on Friday.”
“Yeah, you did, but you didn’t tell me she’s fucking crazy.”
“It’s my fault. I should’ve told you,” I say with a strained voice.
Madness twirls inside me, feeding the dreadful feeling that’s been tormenting me for the last few weeks or so.
“What’s her problem?”
I shrug, a bitter smile coming to my lips.
“With her is never only one problem.”
“Why Layla?”
I shift my eyes away from him.
“She’s found a picture of her on my phone. She assumed the rest.”
“Is there a ‘rest’?”
“It doesn’t need to be.”
“You could’ve fucking told me.”
“Told you what?”
“To keep her out of the club.”
“Well, it’s done.”
He lets out a sigh.
“Okay. Well... Nora took Layla home.”
“Is she okay?” I ask deadpan, trying to push back my emotion.
“Yeah, she’s okay now. She’s... um...”
He pauses, weighing his words.
“Yes?”
“She really doesn’t deserve to get caught in this mess.”
I stay quiet.
He searches my eyes for a few more moments, and I sense the frustration growing in him.
“Okay, I’ll let you get ready for the next set,” he says checking the time, and then he vanishes out the door.
I take a few long breaths, a swarm of thoughts spinning in my head. Soon, I’ll leave New York. I’ll get home, and pull away from all this, and hopefully, I’ll figure this shit out.
But before that, I need to finish the night, so I walk into the bathroom, shut the door behind me, let out a curse and put my fist into a wall.
It’s Thanksgiving week.
I should fly back to Idaho, but I can’t make myself do that, not in this state of mind, not after I left a mess back in New York.
Ron followed up with Layla. I couldn’t so I bailed out, and that’s not like me. I always take care of my business.
But how can I explain to her that a woman she’s never met in her life, hates her so much? How can I tell her that a simple picture of her on my phone spurred so much cattiness? How can I expect her to come close to me if we’re not even connected and people take a jab at her?
Afraid I might not get it right, I chose to do nothing. The last thing I wanted was another blunder.
So here I am. Back at home. It’s only me and Steve who has no family to go to. My driver and the housekeeper are off till Sunday.
We pretend Thanksgiving Day is just another day with fancier food. We take our time eating dinner, at the same time enjoying the balmy weather.
Steve’s combat stories put a different perspective on things, making me realize how disconnected I’ve become from the real life. I grab a couple of beers, hand him one, and plop into a chair across from him. The backyard is filled with colorful lights, the evening unfurling quiet around us.
“It feels so good to be back,” I say, glancing at the LA lights.
“You sound like you need a vacation,” he says.
“It’s probably more than that.”
“What happened?” he asks, his eyes trained on mine.
I smile.
“Lately? Or in general?”
He stays quiet.
I set my bottle on the table, lean back in my chair, clasp my hands behind my neck, and cast him a blank stare before I finally speak.
“To be honest... I have no fucking idea what happened.”
He takes a swig of beer and looks away.
“That bad, huh?”
“Yeah, that fucking bad.”
His eyes come back to me.
“I don’t see how money or music could be the problem. I imagine there’s only one thing that bothers you,” he says.
“That’s kinda obvious after the shit that went down last Sunday,” I mutter.
“Yeah. That was fucking epic.”
We share a soft laughter.
“So it must have to do with women,” he says, placing his bottle on the table.
My smile withers away.
“It probably does. I think I’m getting tired. And it’s not the music or performing. I’m okay with that. It’s something else... I don’t know if I make much sense.”
He folds his arms across his chest and listens intently.
“Yeah... I guess some of it has to do with women. I’m sick of the same flavor, the same old tricks and stories. That thing with Lana drove me nuts. I don’t need that kind of shit. Not in my bedroom, and not outside of it.”
“Not all women are like that.”
“I know,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest as well. “What did she say when you pulled her out?”
“You mean what she screamed?”
I let out a bitter chuckle.
“Yeah...”
“She wanted to know how long have you been fucking Layla?”
My smile dies out.
; I shift my focus to the pool, my gaze following the rhythmic tossing of the lights. The silence thickens.
“Nothing is perfect in life, River. There’s always a trade-off, a price to pay, or a sacrifice to make.”
I flick my eyes to him.
“You’ve been in the spotlight for a long time. You know what it takes to live like that. Women are just another price you have to pay,” he says.
“Some people call them perks.”
“You called them perks for a long time too. It’s just that you no longer see them that way. Ask any straight, hot-blooded man if they want your ‘problem’ and they’d trade places with you in a split second.”
“So there’s something wrong with me...” I say jokingly.
“No. I don’t think so. You no longer see the value in women like Lana. For you, they’re rather a sacrifice than a perk, and that’s what pisses you off.”
“There’s nothing I can do right now, anyway,” I say.
“There’s always something you can do. You told me that. Maybe you’re not ready to do things differently, and that’s another story.”
He pauses.
“What about Layla? She is not that kind of woman,” he says after a few moments.
“She isn’t. But she’s also the reason why I said there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“It can’t be because she doesn’t like you. She trips all over herself when she’s around you.”
I start laughing.
“Fuck, man. Is that so obvious? Is there one person who hasn’t noticed that?”
He shrugs and smiles.
“Besides you?”
I shake my head, grinning.
“Just because she likes me doesn’t mean anything.”
“It does to her.”
“Maybe she has a fan crush on me,” I say.
“Yeah, and maybe I’m an astronaut.”
I hold my hands in the air.
“Okay, fine. Maybe it’s more and perhaps she’s genuine, but it still doesn’t mean anything. ”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really,” I say.
“You’re talking yourself out of her while you're miserable because of her.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You don’t have to say anything. It’s fucking obvious. You dismiss the idea of her although she’s the exact kind of woman you need right now.”
“Really?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
He cocks his head to the side and gives me a clever smile.
“I know fucking life. You just said you had enough of women like Lana, and here you have the chance to try something different. Call it serendipity for all I care, but Layla is exactly what you long for, and you’re lucky enough to have her show up at the right time. If I were you, I‘d get off my rock star ass and do the fucking work like the rest of us, the regular folk. The basics, River. I’m sure you remember a time when you had to woo a woman like any other man. ”
I bite my lips to crush a smile.
“You know I’m fucking right. Call her,” he says, grinning and brings the bottle to his lips.
10
Easier said than done.
I can’t remember when was the last time I was so nervous. Probably, never. Not with women anyway. After fidgeting like a teenager a whole afternoon, I pick up the phone and dial her number.
It’s Sunday afternoon, Thanksgiving week and she’s probably home with her family or doing something or someone...What the fuck? I never thought about that...
“Yes?”
Her voice rolls in my ears, soft and innocent, bringing my thoughts to a sudden halt. I stall as she waits for me to answer, a few moments slipping by.
“Layla?”
I’m surprised my voice doesn’t give me away. I clutch the phone even harder, sweat coating my palm.
Silence comes from the other end, and I expect the worst. Anger, a curse... I wouldn’t be surprised if she hangs up.
There’s nothing. Only silence.
“It’s River,” I say, pacing my words, uncertain of her reaction.
She stays quiet, and I see her in my mind, breathing softly, her locks framing her dewy eyes, her heart beating for me, like then... the night she took my pictures.
Reluctant, I speak.
“I own you an explanation... and an apology, also... ”
“Yes?”
There she is again. Curious and sweet. Her voice sends chills down my back.
“Do you like dogs?”
She pauses for a moment, thrown off by my question.
“Yes, I adore dogs,” she says, her voice lined with a smile.
“Okay, then...You’ll receive the information tomorrow at noon. You don’t need to respond unless you turn it down,” I say with a flat voice.
There’s another pause.
“It’s gonna be a dog?” she finally says, another smile spilling in her voice.
“I’ll see you on Saturday,” I say, and hang up before she can utter another word.
I toss my phone on the bed and wipe sweat from my brow.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
The week goes by in a blur. I spend my days in my studio, working on a few new songs, trying to keep my mind occupied.
Early Saturday afternoon, I receive the confirmation that she checked into the hotel.
Every once in a while, I’m part of an ad campaign, promoting a dog rescue operation run by a local group. They usually provide a photographer, but this time, I asked to bring my own. I couldn’t find a more innocent pretext to invite Layla to my house.
Ashley, the girl from the charity group, is here. I’m playing with Karma, the dog featured in the next ‘Adopt a Rescue’ campaign when the doorbell rings.
I purposely ask Ashley to answer the door, the ploy giving me enough time to stage the introductions. Silent, I lean against the wall–– not far from her, and cross my arms over my chest, observing.
The door swings open, and Layla’s silhouette fills the doorway. The sunlight brushes her shoulders and her hair, dripping into her eyes.
Oblivious to me, she sets her gaze on Ashley, panic and surprise seizing her eyes. Her eyes dart back and front, her face turning crimson with a blush. She starts fidgeting, and wrestles with her emotions, unable to revive her smile.
Wagging her tail, Karma joins them. Layla shifts her focus to the dog.
Friendly, Ashley starts chatting about the ad campaign, and her charity, at one point mentioning her husband’s name. Relief rolls on Layla’s face, a small smile creasing her lips.
“I see you met Ashley...” I say.
Surprised, she turns to me.
We lock eyes, and my heart thuds in my chest. She looks at me, her eyes speaking of her shyness, a tinge of blush still coloring her cheeks. I can’t tear my gaze off her, and she doesn’t pull her away either.
“I did,” she murmurs, a warm smile stretching across her lips, reaching her eyes.
Bloodless, her fingers clutch the strap of her bag, as her gaze slips down my body.
Not exactly dressed for church, she wears a pair of low-rise, distressed, jeans shorts, and a laced up white top, the sheer fabric revealing her taut stomach and her black lace bra. My eyes dip to her toned legs.
She expected to be alone with me and by the way she dressed, to get to know me better.
I can’t contain my smile.
Her gaze rolls down on me again and as she slowly takes me in, heat barrels through my bones. She finally raises her eyes, a smitten grin plastered across her face.
Tension sets in my body.
Just to mess with her, I stuff my hands into my pocket and thrust my chest out, my shirt sliding open, barely clinging to my pecs.
“Are we ready?” I ask as I slowly peel my eyes off her legs and briefly glance at her lips.
Spellbound, she drinks me in. Pushing back a sly smile, I turn around and barefoot, saunter to the living r
oom. Layla strolls right behind me.
Ashley and Karma rush past us, heading to the backyard.
Without the slightest warning, I stop and spin around, taking her by surprise.
Startled, she gasps and falls in my arms, her scent flowing into my lungs, her breasts crushing against my chest.
Just as fast, she pulls away and mumbles an apology.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I stifle my laughter.
I have to handle her with the utmost care.
“Make yourself comfortable. We’ll take the pictures outside,” I say with a serious voice, motioning her to a couch.
Swiftly, I pull away and follow Ashley and Karma in the garden. A few moments later, she joins us in the lounging area. Soon, she begins to take pictures of Karma and me.
The time flies by, not surprisingly so, considering this is one of the most enjoyable and funniest photo sessions ever. Maybe because it involves a dog, my home, and a beautiful photographer.
Once we finish, I text the driver to come and pick up Ashley and Karma. Hunched over her camera, Layla sifts through the photographs, her back turned to me.
“Can you stay a little longer?”
She freezes for a moment, unsure if she heard me right. She whips her eyes to me.
“Me? Sure. Yes, of course,” she says, shifting through colors like a disco ball.
Minutes later, I set Ashley and Karma on their ride and head back. Rooted to the same spot, she snaps pictures of the valley. The sun dips toward the horizon, painting a striking sunset.
I linger by the pool a few more moments so she can take the photographs without distraction, and then I saunter back to her.
Lounging on the sofa, camera on her lap, she stares at the sky.
“You love sunsets...” I say, and before I could finish my sentence she leaps up from the couch.
Her camera goes airborne, and her arms shoot up as she struggles to catch it. She grabs the camera, and makes one step too many, setting herself for an imminent fall.
I curl my arm around her waist, swoop her up and press her into me.
“Easy, easy...” I say.
Breathless, she looks at me as if I’m the beginning and the end. A knowing smile stretches across my lips as I witness her stupefaction. Her hands rest on my chest, her chest rising and falling with soft breaths.