Deepest Blues

by Heidi Hutchinson

  Shane hadn't taken the break-up with Lucy well. He'd slipped into a quiet depression. Clarke hadn't witnessed it firsthand, since he'd been in the New York office. But she could see it now, even as he tried to pretend everything was normal. It wasn't. He was sad.

  It may have had something to do with why she was putting up with his friends. He'd always treated her well, like family even.

  “I wouldn't call it babysitting... Okay, yeah, I guess I would.” She chuckled, feeling some more of the tension leave her. “And now Greta's brother and friend will be joining us. Seven people, one house.”

  It wasn't as bad as it might appear. They weren't only Shane's friends. She had known all of them since around high school, had always been a part of the “group” even if it was only because she was tagging along with Paul. But she hadn't been made an official member until Shane hired her and she was around more often.

  “Greta seems lovely,” Shane remarked with a touch of sarcasm.

  Clarke looked up at him, confused. “You've never met her?”

  “Not that I remember,” he replied. “I think I'd remember someone with so much charm.”

  “Huh.” Clarke felt her eyebrows raise. She wanted to remark that the sarcasm was a nice touch, but what he said made absolutely no sense. “I guess I thought...” She frowned again, trying to decided if he was lying or not before she moved onto her next assumption. “Well, anyway, I figured, since you hang out with the band and stuff.”

  “What band?” Shane's back straightened.

  “Double Blind Study. Don't you see them all the time? Which, by the way, a ticket hookup wouldn't be that far-reaching a bonus for a loyal employee.” She tilted her head slightly at his lost expression.

  “What's Greta's connection to the band?” he asked, his voice tense.

  “Harrison is her older brother.” She watched the confusion morph into light panic as she continued. “She just got back from Boston. I guess Carl married their older sister last week and it was the wedding of the century.” How did he not know this?

  “I had no idea. I didn't even know Harrison had sisters.”

  Clarke regarded him carefully, not sure if she believed him or not. Maybe he'd hit his head harder than she thought when he fell out of his chair earlier. She frowned and spoke slowly, “But the guys know her. Like, really well. She moved in with me months ago, but Steve, Bo, Brady, Kip, hell, even Adam, are like her freaking bodyguards. The girl can't go anywhere without one of them dragging themselves along with.”

  “Is she dating one of them?” Shane asked.

  “Heck no! Greta doesn't date. She has,” Clarke hesitated, scratching the side of her neck as she looked away and sought the right word, “rules about that.” Clarke shook her head in exasperation. “Are you sure you've never met her?”

  “I think I'd remember someone named Greta Garbo.” Shane shrugged.

  “Her name is Greta O'Neil. I call her Garbo. We all call her Garbo. After the actress, Greta Garbo?” She looked at Shane like he was daft. “Because I'm Clarke, as in Clark Gable and she's Greta—aw, forget it. No one understands my references.”

  Shane chuckled. “Still doesn't ring a bell, honey.”

  “Well, all I know is that when Steve came in one day and she was here to see me, he was all about it.”

  “Sounds like Steve,” Shane remarked dryly.

  “Not like that,” Clarke protested, even though it did sound like Steve. “Like he already knew her. They all acted like it. She's a kick-ass surfer-chick. Even you'd be impressed.”

  “Not likely, I don't impress easily.”

  “I'm sure you'll get your chance, Garbo is with them all the time when she's not at work. Speaking of...” She gestured to the money she had been trying to count this whole time.

  Shane nodded in understanding and withdrew to his office, leaving her alone to finish the opening check list. She counted the money, ran through the procedures, and checked the clock. Yep, behind schedule. Just like she feared.

  “Hey,” Clarke called, and Shane stepped back out front. “You wanna run this for me? I have to change my clothes.”

  “Who's the friend he's bringing?” Shane asked, and it took Clarke a second to figure out what he was talking about.

  Clarke made a weird, disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “Mike, the drummer.” She knew she hadn't hidden the slight disdain in her voice because Shane widened his eyes. “Apparently they're gonna be here for a few weeks doing some sample recordings or whatever.”

  “I take it you don't approve?” he asked gently.

  She took a breath before answering, savoring the return of her friend. They weren't close by any stretch of the imagination. But he had been as much a friend to her as anyone else. He never held back from asking about her life, showing genuine concern for her well-being. While his reputation with the rest of the female population leaned more towards the realm of infamy, he had never treated her with anything but gentleness and respect.

  She had wondered in the beginning if it was out of pity, after having read her file and knowing she was an orphan. But time passed, and she learned he was also an orphan, it began to feel less like pity and more like camaraderie. They began to watch out for each other. He had never had siblings, and she knew he felt robbed in that area of his life. So she filled in as a surrogate in that regard.

  But he wasn't her brother. Not as an insult to Shane. He would fill that role if she ever let him. She just... couldn't.

  She processed all of this quickly before answering his concerned question.

  “Harrison is a sweetie, that's not the problem. And I promise I'll put on my happy face and be perfectly delightful when they get here, but—gah! Don't laugh at me!” She threw the empty money bag at him in frustration.

  “I had no idea that you disliked drummers so much,” he teased.

  “It's not that.” She chewed on her bottom lip in frustration. “I'm probably making a bigger deal out of it than I need to. I can blame it on my lack of sleep.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “Since you're back, you wanna take three beach bums off my back?”

  “You know, I would...” Shane replied, giving her a playful smile, “but I just had my carpets cleaned.”

  “I hate you,” she deadpanned, and he laughed out loud.

  “I'm kidding! I'll talk to them.” He gathered the deposit off the counter and stuck it in the bag she had chucked at him a minute ago. “Maybe those bank ladies will give me a little more love than you and Greta did this morning.”

  “I s'pose you want the Land Rover back.” She handed him the keys with a sad sigh, she'd known it was going to come to an end someday.

  “Nah, consider it a bonus in lieu of concert tickets.”

  She stared at him and tried to control the squee that wanted to erupt. She'd never squeed before. But she would totally squee for a Land Rover. Who the hell wouldn't?

  He pointed to her nearly dry hair, oblivious to her glee. “And run a comb through that mess. I know you're the face of the beach side of things, but let's not get too literal about that.”

  Clarke looked up at him with a frown, her nose scrunched, and he laughed again. “You'd better save all your adorable faces for the drummer. You promised to be 'perfectly delightful.'”

  ***

  When the plane touched down in sunny LA, Mike grinned at Harrison. He couldn't really explain it, all he knew was that he hadn't been this excited to see the inside of a studio in a long time.

  They only had a couple weeks before they were set to meet Luke and Lenny up in Lake Tahoe to go camping and outline some ideas for the new DBS album they wanted to start working on sometime in the near future.

  Hiatus had been fun. Mike and Harrison had been writing a lot and were set to record a few demo tracks and possibly an EP if everything went as planned. It was different from anything they'd done before. Mike was singing, for one, while leading from drums. It was cool. Chill. Mike felt brand new. Like he'd never done this before, which
was ridiculous. He'd been doing this for years.

  He saw Harrison's sister standing at the bottom of the escalator with a handmade sign that read “DOOFUS” in pink glitter. He couldn't help but smile. She had thrown a black suit coat over her gray t-shirt and donned a black fedora and dark shades. But it was the hot pink jean shorts that really made her stand out.

  “Very professional, Miss O’Neil.” He kissed her cheek on his approach. Her thousand watt grin lit up her whole face as she threw an arm around him.

  “I can't believe you guys are really here!” She squealed a little as she jumped into Harrison's arms, the sign forgotten and landing on the floor, glitter everywhere.

  “Hey, baby sis.” Harrison hugged her back.

  “How was the flight?” She began walking and they fell in step on either side of her. That was Greta, always on the move.

  “Good. When we travel without our lead singer, we don't get recognized as much.” Mike raked his hand over his super short hair, making it stick up in all different places.

  “I'm making supper for you tonight and Clarke promised to be there.” She hesitated briefly and tried to cover the falter in her smile, but Mike noticed it. “We kind of have a full house right now, so she's been a little cranky. If she acts a little off, that's all that is.”

  “How full are we talking? Lots of girls, or...?” Harrison wasn't good at downplaying the protective older brother thing and Mike bit his tongue to keep from smiling.

  “Um,” Greta's eyes darted around, looking for the baggage terminal and then starting in that direction. “We have a couple guys who needed a place to stay.”

  “You're living with boys?” Harrison's bossy tone came out and Mike shook his head.

  “Geez, Harry.” Greta blew a dark strand of hair out of her face. “I'm twenty-four, not fifteen. And I'm not sleeping with any of them. Once you meet them, you'll understand. I have higher standards than that.” She elbowed Harrison in the ribs. “Besides, I read the tabloids. I know how you guys live.”

  “Most of that is sensationalized,” Harrison protested quickly.

  Greta simply laughed and threw a wink to Mike. “I guess we'll find out, won't we?”

  “I've missed you, Greta.” Mike hooked an arm around her neck. She smiled at him warmly and Mike could feel Harrison's glare on the side of his face. He hated it when they flirted with his sister. And that's the only reason any of them did it.

  “Knock it off, you two. I know what you're doing and I'm not falling for it.” Harrison marched on in front of them, eyeing his luggage coming around the carousel.

  “So, you have anything special planned for us while we're here?” Mike let her go and reached for his own bag.

  “You know me better than that, Michael.” He loved it when she used his whole name. It made him feel more proper somehow. “I don't make plans. Flying,” she smacked her back side, “by the seat of my pants.”

  She tilted her head and studied him for a moment. He inexplicably felt caught, like she saw something in him or on him that hadn't been there a minute ago. He looked down at his shirt, looking for any dribbles from his in-flight meal.

  Finding nothing, he looked back up to her watchful gaze. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  She blinked a few times and smiled sweetly. “I'm excited for you to meet Clarke. I think you'll... really hit it off.”

  Mike was already rejecting the idea. Greta had a history of trying to fix people. Hell, her whole family did. Just look at the fixer-upper that Miranda found in Carl. Harrison was the same way. They all had their own tactics, and it varied in degrees of annoyance. But Greta tended to be the most persistent. If she got it into her head help you, it was best to just let her. Except that Mike already had a plan for himself. A five year one. He didn't need her young, idealistic hopefulness to get tangled in the middle of all that he was trying to keep in check. So he addressed the topic that she normally charged right into, guns blazin': romantic interludes. “I'm not looking for any kind of an anything. Nothing short term or long term, nothing at all.”

  “No, I know.” She nodded, as if she were agreeing with him. But that look hadn't left her face.

  “Seriously, Greta.” He locked eyes with her bright blue ones. A vast contrast from Harrison's brown. It made absolutely no sense that she would end up with her mother's blue eyes and the rest of the siblings got her dad's brown ones.

  “I know, Michael,” she said, mimicking his tone. One more sweet smile before she turned and led the way towards her waiting Jeep.

  He meant what he said. He wasn't looking for anything. At all. Not even a little. But he would lying if he said he wasn't a little bit intrigued by Greta's mention of it. Suddenly yet casually. Besides, who names their daughter Clarke? That's just plain unusual. And Mike liked unusual things.

  Chapter 2

  Generator

  California.

  Mike had always thought that this was where his dreams would come true. They had, to a certain extent. But some of those dreams had turned out to be nightmares. And some of those nightmares had had a permanent effect.

  Some restaurants he could no longer frequent. Some neighborhoods were best to be avoided. And some hotels he couldn't even look at as he drove past.

  “Where is the condo you guys are renting?” Greta asked as she maneuvered the Jeep in and out of the congested traffic. Mike was trying not to look nervous; she seemed very confident in her abilities.

  “Um, about that,” Harrison began, pointedly focusing on the armrest in the door next to him.

  “Harry! I told Clarke you were only staying with us for one night!” Greta took her eyes off the road to scold him, and Mike felt his heart stick in his throat as they narrowly missed colliding with a BMW.

  “We can stay at a hotel,” Mike reassured her quickly.

  “But I thought you hated to do that. You know, 'cause of your issues.” She didn't look at him in the rear-view mirror. No, she turned around to look at him directly. Mike broke into a sweat.

  “Don't be rude, Greta.” Harrison leisurely reached over and held onto the steering wheel.

  “You know, that's the second time today I've been called rude.” She managed to look thoughtful despite half her face being covered by sunglasses. She faced forward again and swatted Harrison's hand off the wheel.

  Mike decided not to say anything else. He didn't want to take the chance that she'd turn around to answer him. Whatever he had to say could wait until they were parked and on solid ground again.

  Originally, when they had made plans to stay with Harrison's sister, she had been living in a small apartment in North Hollywood. After a few phone calls that Mike hadn't been privy to, he found out that she had moved in with a roommate and they had to find their own place for the duration of their visit. Harrison was in charge of that. Mike should have double checked.

  Nearly an hour later, Greta turned her Jeep into a drive with a large ornate gate blocking the road. Mike took in the opulence of the surrounding neighborhood and broke his earlier resolve not to speak to her while she was driving.

  “Where do you work again?”

  “This awesome coffee shop near the pier. I'll show you later.” She expertly guided the Jeep through the slowly opening gate and turned down a couple of streets before coming to the end of the block and pulling into a driveway.

  Mike knew he was staring but he couldn't stop. The stone villa before them had at least three floors, large windows, a multiple car garage, patios, balconies, palm trees. It looked like a place that a movie star would live in, not Harrison's baby sister who served lattes to tourists and surfed on her days off.

  “Maybe I'm missing something, but how do you afford this?” he asked skeptically.

  “Oh, it's Clarke's. She makes me pay rent, but she technically owns it.”

  “Is Clarke a doctor?” Mike asked as he grabbed his duffel from the Jeep. He followed Harrison and Greta to the front door where she paused before opening it.


  “No, but her dad was.” Small hesitation. Deep breath. “Don't ask her about it, okay?”

  Both men nodded mutely and she gave a light smile as she pushed the door open.

  “All the bedrooms are on the second and third floors.” Greta pointed to the stairs leading up immediately to their right as they entered. “This floor has the kitchen, living room, and den.” She nodded to the left, “The courtyard is out there. That's where most everyone hangs out 'cause it can get kinda cramped when everyone is home.”

  “How many people are living here?” Harrison asked, eyeing the size of the place and probably thinking what Mike was thinking. Whoa.

  “Right now, five.” Greta scrunched up her nose. “But tonight with you guys it will be seven.”

  “I can see why Clarke doesn't want us to stay,” Mike said wryly.

  “It's not—” Greta began softly , “It's just... she's been really overwhelmed lately. And this is her place and people tend to take advantage of her. She would let you stay in a heartbeat. I'm the one making the rule. I'm rude, remember?”

  She led them up to the second floor and to a room almost at the end of the hall. The bright sunlight streaming in through the open windows was refreshing. A queen-size bed was centered in the room and a plush couch was against one wall.

  “You guys can share the bed if you want or you can flip for the couch.” Greta's eyes twinkled with her teasing. “This is my room, so please don't do anything gross.”

  “Where will you be sleeping?” Harrison asked suspiciously.

  “I'll be in Tatewin's old room. Don't look at at me like that, she's a girl and I promise I'll be alone.” Greta leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb as they set their things down. “And before you ask, the dudes all share the loft upstairs. This room at the end of the hall is Clarke's.” She motioned to the closed door to her right. “It's strictly off-limits.”

  “House rule?” Mike raised his eyebrows.

  “Yeah.” Greta rolled her eyes. “The guys went through a phase where they pranked us incessantly. Clarke does not enjoy pranks.” She shook her head at the memory. “Mostly, they're harmless. Super juvenile, but harmless.”