by Riley Bancroft, Evelyn Berry, Cara Carnes, Jax Garren, Irene Preston, Rebecca Royce, Chandra Ryan
Find herself again.
He sighed, nodding his head. “I know it’s not Austin driving you crazy anymore. I’ve shown you enough of it and seen you enjoying it.”
“No.” She shook her head probably more vigorously than she needed to. Only, she needed him to understand. “I enjoy Austin more. It’s a great city. I can see why you love it.”
“Is it me then?” He dropped his hand and went to sit on the edge of his desk. “Too weird? Maybe you can’t respect me because you happened to be around when I found out I got cheated? I understand it. Not very romantic.”
She waved her hand in the air. “I think watching you haul out the most impressive group of CPAs ever to kick some ass was pretty hot, actually.”
“Am I a ten-day stand then?”
He looked so sad. She had to walk over and wrap her arms around him. He drew her into his warm embrace. Why did he have to be so kind when she knew she caused him pain?
“I don’t suppose it’s possible you could go with me? I mean you’re selling your business and the club will finally be run correctly.” She sniffed. God, was she crying?
“Can you see me in New York?”
She leaned back to look at him. “Yes, actually. Everyone is in New York.”
“What you’re asking me isn’t unreasonable. I want you to stay here; you want me to go there. Life is compromise. I know I can’t always have my way. To be fair, I thought about it. All during our jog through Zilker Park yesterday, I contemplated the idea.”
Lana couldn’t believe she heard him correctly. “And?”
“I’ve told you I’ve been to Manhattan. Maybe it’s all the buildings, or the lights never turning off, or the cold weather, which lasts way longer than here. I can’t see things as well there. The vision that lets me work here? It disappeared the times I’ve been there. So, no, I don’t think I can work there.”
A headache throbbed right over her left temple. “You don’t feel ready to retire?”
He laughed, throwing his head back. “No.”
She was glad one of them found amusement.
—
Jake watched the band onstage, feeling very detached. The music was good, the band exciting, the money at the door had been properly managed. He still didn’t have an assistant manager to go with the new manager he had hired. Since he’d redone things, he wasn’t going to leave it to the manager to handle.
All hiring and firing would be done by him. As it was at his other businesses. Rooster was real life, not a hobby he should be ignoring. And hell, maybe it would be a good thing, make him a profit.
Lana walked over to him and leaned against him. It felt so completely right to have her there, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. How could she then be leaving?
She lifted the wine glass to her lips and drank deeply. Tonight was the most alcohol he’d ever seen her consume. For a change, he thought he might enjoy being drunk. However, he would wait for her to leave to really let himself become sloshed. Ninety-six hours ’til he took her to the airport and lost her forever.
“They’re really rocking.” She tapped her foot a little bit to the music. “Are they playing some kind of garbage can?”
“It’s very alternative.” He laughed. Lana could make him forget how much he wanted to shake his fist at the universe. “I once saw a member of a band in Austin play for fifteen straight minutes on a tin can.”
“Cool.”
Yeah, it was very. “Want to go somewhere?”
“Can you leave?” She kissed his arm. “Aren’t you monitoring the manager?”
“You have a point. I wish you wouldn’t make sense though. For the next four days, I’d rather be footloose and fancy free.”
“Did you say footloose and fancy free? Are you eighty?”
Sometimes lately he felt ancient. Losing Lana made him ache. Thirty-five had never felt so old. When she boarded the plane, he’d go back to the way it had been before. Each day had a pattern, and his ideas made the hours passable—working out, spending time on his boat, listening to music. Going home alone.
“You look so sad.”
“I think I need some air.” He kissed her cheek.
Lana stared at him with such lovely, sad eyes his chest constricted. “Do you want me to come?”
“Stay here; enjoy your drink. I’ll be a minute.”
He hated the internal conflict churning in his gut. She was already gone although she was there with him. He should be enjoying every single second of the time they had together. Yet, he couldn’t.
How could her leaving be happening? This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. His attempts at wooing her to stay had turned out to be so completely ineffectual, and what the fuck was he supposed to do about it? Go to New York where he’d never work again? Let her go? There was no good answer, not a single thing he could do.
Lamar was busy. Cars rushed by, and when a fancy one pulled into the lot, he wasn’t surprised. By midnight most of the local restaurants were closing. Only the bars and the clubs remained open another two hours.
The BMW screeched to a loud stop. It took him a minute to realize who got out of the driver’s seat, and when he saw him, it did nothing to improve his mood. DBR had arrived at his club. Perfect, just perfect.
“Hey.” Dexter staggered a bit and before he reached Jake, the smell of booze wafted forward. Why did it not surprise him DBR drove intoxicated? The man couldn’t afford to order a car service?
“Dexter.” He nodded toward the car. “Handling your car kind of rough. How about if you let me find you a car to take you home when you’re ready?”
The rock star laughed. “As if I would leave my car here in such a junky parking lot. Anyone could take it tonight.”
“We have security cameras. No one would touch your car. If you’d prefer, I could have a valet drive you home.”
“Hey, Tech Boy, I know you play in the music thing. How about you leave the rock god-ing to the actual rock stars? The BMW’s my car. No valet touches it. Only DBR handles the car. Go do your tech stuff. Leave us alone.”
It must have been DBR referring to himself in the third person that set him off. He’d never been able to stand such pretension. His fifth grade math teacher had done it all the time. We’re going to give you a test. What are you doing, tell us. It had made Jake crazed then, and apparently it still had the same effect on him.
Or maybe he really didn’t appreciate when people drove drunk.
Either way, he grabbed Dexter, and before he could think better of it, he swung, hard. His fist collided with the rock star’s nose with a satisfying clunk. Afterwards, it all got really hazy.
—
“Hey.” Lana stared down at him although she was a bit of a fog. “You in there?”
He tried to sit up, and she pushed him back down gently. “If you make yourself worse, the doctors are going to kick me out of here. I’m not family. Only my charm got me through the doors to be back here with you.”
“Doctors?” He blinked and looked around. Damn it, he was in a hospital room. “What happened? How did I get here?”
“One at a time.”
Since his vision had cleared a bit, he could see dark circles beneath her eyes. Damn, he’d probably caused them; he’d put the worry and exhaustion there. “Okay.”
She took her hand in his. “You apparently hit Dexter square in the nose.”
The punch he remembered, and, although his head pounded, he couldn’t stop the smile. Yes, he had finally gotten to do what he wanted to DBR. For a beautiful single moment, it had felt so sweet.
“Right. Then it’s a blur.”
Lana rolled her eyes. “Listen, the next time you decide to become some sort of macho asshole swinging at douchy rock stars, make sure his two broad-shouldered, usually incompetent body guards are not sitting in the back of his BMW. My understanding is they took you out from behind.”
He reached around and touched the back of his head. Yes, he had a big giant knot.
“Do I have a concussion?”
“Yep.” She kissed his hand. “So you’ll take it easy for a while.”
“All of my plans for the week just flew out the window. I was going to take you onto the Formula-1 racetrack. Then ride horses and scale some rock-climbing walls.”
Lana’s smile didn’t meet her eyes. “I guess you’ll have to settle for four days with me watching movies in your apartment. Dexter has cancelled all appearances and flew to Paris this morning to drown his embarrassment in red wine and French hookers. I’ll train my replacement and it’s going to be an easy end of the week.”
“You still want to spend time with me although I’m such a complete jackass?”
“You proved you’re human.” She stood up and leaned over, which gave him a great view of her breasts. He groaned. It was going to be a real bummer for the rest of the week. A huge disaster. Of epic proportions.
Her lips met his. She tasted so sweet he wished she would stay where she was forever. His head didn’t throb quite so badly when she kissed him. His heart, however, shattered.
Unfortunately, she pulled back. “Tell me you didn’t hit him for me.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I think it had more to do with the drunk driving. Although I wish I had struck him for all the things he did to you.”
“Your club is famous. The press is all over it. The place where the tech guru owner broke DBR’s nose. I don’t think you’ll ever have to worry about getting customers through the doors. Maybe you’ll recoup all of your losses tomorrow.”
“Damn. Maybe I should have hit him before.” He closed his eyes to stop some of the spinning. “I would have broken his nose earlier in the week.”
“Not funny.”
No, he supposed it was not. And maybe the time had come for the truth. Both for him to tell her and to hear her answer, even if he didn’t like the response.
“Lana, I’m crazy about you. I think you feel the same way.” If she didn’t, he preferred to stay with the delusion anyway. “You’re leaving. I don’t want it. Although I can respect it.” Sort of. Why couldn’t she see they’d been thrown together for a reason and how beautifully they fit?
“What are you saying?” She raised her eyebrows. He had a feeling she knew exactly what he was about to say. His Lana would make him say it.
“I can’t do what we’re doing anymore. The next four days are going to feel like an endless funeral. I wish I could be different, live in the moment, be glad for the time we have. Only, I can’t. If I’m losing you, I have to let you go sooner than later. I’m already in horrible pain. What’s a little more?”
Her face fell, and he couldn’t blame her for the gasp she made. He felt a little bit like someone had beaten him up. Even more so than they had.
5
Lana regarded her replacement with an inner smile. When it had come down to two candidates, she’d known the right person to choose instantly. DBR liked his assistants attractive. She’d been told as much when she’d been hired. It was important, they’d told her, to keep her figure.
Since he hadn’t given her any specific instructions about hiring before he took himself off to Paris, except a text message explaining he wanted things arranged before he got home, she had used her own instincts.
The older woman who sat in front of her, gray-haired, blue-eyed, wearing her tie-dyed t-shirt, jeans, and Birkenstocks, was going to keep him on his toes. Plus, Paula, DBR’s new assistant was smart, interesting, and totally qualified.
“You’re really leaving, then?” Paula asked sweetly. “You miss Manhattan so much?”
Yes and no. She wasn’t, however, going to discuss it with Paula. Four days of agony without Jake gave her a new perspective on the concept of missing.
“I need to return back to my city.”
“Austin didn’t win you over then?” Paula smiled brightly, extending her hand to shake Lana’s.
“It’s a wonderful city. I guess New York is always going to be home.”
“Your plane leaves tonight?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “Last flight out.”
Paula patted her arm. “You’re heartbroken.”
She jumped at the remark. “What?”
“I can see it. Probably because I’ve been there so many times myself. Don’t fall for the rock stars. They’ll always break your heart. They don’t settle down ’til they’re my age and then they marry semi-attractive models with boob jobs.”
She snorted before she doubled over into a near hysterical fit of laughter. When she could breathe, she spoke. “Oh my God, the imagery. I can practically see DBR on MTV in thirty years. Seriously, no. It’s not Dexter I’m mourning.”
“Oh?” Paula’s eyebrows rose. “I’m surprised. I wouldn’t imagine, if there was someone else here you could be with, you’d be leaving Austin.”
“Sometimes timing is wrong. And there’s nothing any of us can do about it.”
Paula shook her head. “Life is short. I know it doesn’t feel fast at your age. Only, it is. Any day you don’t spend loving the person you’re meant to be with, based on something as trivial as timing, is wasted.”
The other woman’s words resonated with her. Yet, it seemed too late to do something about it. He had sent her on. Not that she blamed him. In the same circumstance, she’d likely have kicked him to the corner a lot sooner. The sweet man had hung on and, despite his protests about the fight not being over her, he’d gotten concussed from dealing with her boss. He was probably ruing the day he ever agreed to go upstairs and fuck her brains out.
She let her eyes travel upstairs toward the room they had used during the party. “I wish it were so simple. Thanks for the advice. I do think, in my case, we were two ships destined to cross for a short period. A brief moment in time.”
Paula shook her head. “Sounds pretty boring to me. I’ve been married thirty years, and I wouldn’t want a single day taken away.”
DBR was going to love having a married assistant. Paula was perfect to keep him in line. A married woman not interested in his crap. Lana’s heart panged. Jake would be the perfect husband and—sigh—someday, if he wanted to be, a dad. No, she couldn’t let her mind wonder there. She was going back to New York City. He would stay in Austin—forever the perfect guy who’d spent eleven amazing days and nights with her.
—
Lana sat in Austin-Bergstrom International Airport, tapping her foot on the ground. It was nine o’clock at night, and the airport had live music playing in a bar a little ways down in her terminal. Jake had told her they sometimes played it here. Something folksy and calming. Leave it to Austin, the Live Music Capital of the World, to have a band playing the night she left. She would miss the music.
Particularly because in whatever job she managed to find, the only regular music she’d hear would probably be of the elevator variety and only on her lunch hour. Or when she could afford to go to clubs at night.
Maybe her friends would bring her. Of course, it would never be as much fun as watching the shows with Jake at his place. She closed her eyes. No! She could not, would not allow herself to go down such a road. It led to what ifs she couldn’t fulfill. If she stayed in Austin and found another job, also—thanks to DBR—not in the music industry, she didn’t know if the coolest guy she had ever known would take her back.
His touring her around town had certainly opened her to the place, which still didn’t mean she wanted to be in central Texas without him. Austin without him would be another bunch of streets. All the heart would be gone again.
If today were the movies, and airport security wouldn’t have him arrested, he would come tearing through the terminal. Hell, there was already background music playing to accompany his run. She’d jump up, meet him halfway. People would clap.
As if it could happen, her eyes strayed to the TSA line. She waited a beat. Nope, no heroic last-second appearance of the guy she couldn’t stop thinking about. Not that she’d really expected there to be.
Lan
a had made a choice, and it had been to purchase plane tickets home. She’d known then, and she still accepted the finality of such a decision. He’d wanted her to stay, and she’d outright rejected him.
She was allowed to feel sorry about some of the consequences of her choices. To do so was not to negate the validity of her first decision. There were always things lost when other things were gained.
So what if she was so heartsick she couldn’t sleep and had drenched her pillow the night before?
She was a big girl. They hadn’t known each other long enough to really fall in love. What she felt had to be a crush or an infatuation. Her feelings would pass. She gritted her teeth and tried to believe her pep talk, although hollowness radiated through her inner dialogue.
They were calling her flight. It was time to move on with the rest of her life.
—
She’d forgotten how often it rained—the kind of freezing, burn-your-face wet— during the springtime in Manhattan. She shivered and tugged her coat closer to her. Several taxis blared their horns, and she dodged her way around two tourists pointing upwards at a skyscraper.
It did feel good to be home, and after two weeks of sleeping on her friend’s couch, she had probably located a sublet that might work out for her. Manhattan real estate really blew, especially when between jobs.
She hurried faster. Her friend had helped set her up with a job in a department store so she could at least write “employed” on her apartment application forms. It had never been her dream job to work in fashion. It was certainly a good career and she wouldn’t scoff at it.
So why was she doing what she was about to do?
The postcard in her hand vibrated with raindrops hitting the outside, and she shoved it farther up her sleeve. As far as postcards went, it wasn’t particularly creative or interesting. It had been $1.50 at a discount tourist shop. Since she wasn’t exactly certain what sending it would accomplish other than her internal humiliation, she hadn’t wanted to overspend. Another couple of dollars would simply add insult to injury.