Cardinal

by Sara Mack

  He nods, his eyes never leaving the paper in his hands. “Let me know if you can make it in tomorrow,” he says.

  “I will. Thanks.” Gwen looks at me. “Maggie is covering for us, so ...”

  “I’m right behind you,” I say and start to leave. I glance at Dean. “I’ll let you know soon. Thanks for the opportunity.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  As soon as I’m out the door I hear Latson’s voice snap. “Thanks a lot, asshole. You could have told me you were going to ask her.”

  Dean’s voice bites back. “She deserves it.”

  “I agree, but we just started –”

  “Jen.”

  My eyes jump to Gwen.

  “Come on.” She waves me forward. “Maggie’s going to kill us.”

  I nod and pick up my pace.

  ~~~~

  The ride home with Latson is quiet. He seems lost in his own world, so I don’t say anything. I know he’s not happy with Dean, but it’s not my place to question him. Especially since I overheard what was said.

  With nothing else to do, I stare out the window and contemplate going on Dean’s tour. I imagine accepting his offer. I have to admit it gives me the good chills. It also makes me nervous as hell. I have to be the least qualified person to round out his band. What makes him think I won’t embarrass him? I guess if I’m terrible at rehearsals he could let me go. The idea of being fired from a job I was handpicked to fill makes me feel a little leery. Trying and failing would be a nightmare.

  But, then again, at least I could say I tried.

  By the time Latson pulls into our building I’ve decided on one thing: to read Dean’s email. Talking in circles is useless, and I need all the facts before making a decision. When Latson parks and turns off the engine, I reach for my bag, then the door handle. “Thanks for the ride home.”

  He gives me half a smile and then holds out his hand. I set my bag down and thread my fingers through his. “Thanks for letting me pout.”

  “Why are you pouting?”

  “Because you’re going to say yes.” He runs his thumb over the back of my hand. “You’re going to leave.”

  I tip my head and scrutinize him. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because I won’t let you stay.”

  I frown.

  “C’mere.” He pulls me closer by pulling on my hand. I slide over next to him, but it’s not good enough. With some maneuvering, I end up sitting in his lap, facing him.

  “You have too much talent to let this pass you by,” he says. “Didn’t you say you were tired of tending bar? It’s time to be a rock star.”

  I laugh. “That’s stretching it a little, don’t you think?”

  “Nope.” He runs his hands over my arms. “You’ll be great.”

  I lean forward and hold my face inches from his. “I still think you should go.”

  “Jen, I –”

  “I understand about Oliver,” I cut him off. “I do. But, other people tour, and they have families. It’s five months.”

  “Remember that when you’re missing me.” He gives me a gentle kiss, then rests his forehead against mine. “I have more reasons than Oliver for saying no.”

  “Such as?”

  He sighs and lets his hands fall to my thighs. He leans back against the seat and looks out the window. “Audrey.”

  I set my palms against his chest and wait for him to explain.

  “I won’t put myself in a position to re-live the past,” he says. “Too many things would be the same.”

  He looks like he wants to say more, but changes his mind. I wonder if he’s talked to anyone about his sister. I doubt his past comes up when he’s hanging out with Pete and the guys. I lean forward to get his attention and softly ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He runs his fingers in circles on my legs. “What’s there to talk about? My sister died on our second tour. I can barely escape the memory without my music. It would be impossible to shake if I went with Dean.”

  My breath catches. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Don’t be.” Latson’s sad eyes find mine. “What happened has nothing to do with you.”

  My gut tells me he’s wrong. “I think it does.” I sit up straight. “We’re together, right?”

  He nods, yet looks confused.

  “Then your hurts are mine. Just like if I were upset. Wouldn’t you want to make me feel better?”

  “I would.”

  “See?” I lean toward him and set my hands on either side of his face. “Listen to me. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what losing Audrey was like for you and your family.”

  Latson sighs and gives me another soft kiss. “Thank you.”

  “Any time.”

  He covers my hands with his and moves them to his chest. “I wish I could go back,” he says. “There are days when I question everything. You should know that about me, for when I act like an ass again. Because it’s going to happen, just like it did at the hospital.”

  I squeeze his fingers. “Not if I can help it. What are you second guessing?”

  He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “You don’t want to know.”

  “I do.”

  “There’s no fixing the past.”

  “True, but you can feel better about it.” I decide to share my own revelation. “Take my ex, Derek, for example. He was a massive mistake. Huge. But I feel better about what happened because he led me here. Had things not happened the way they did, I’d be four hours away dating a lying bastard. You and I would never have met.”

  Latson raises an eyebrow. “Is it wrong to be happy he was a lying bastard?”

  “Not at all.” I smile. “Now, tell me one of your regrets.”

  He gives me a resigned look. “I don’t think –”

  I bring my face close to his. “Tell me.”

  “Okay,” he concedes. “Fine.” He looks at our hands. “I regret asking Audrey to manage the band.”

  My stomach knots. “Because of what happened?”

  “Because she had a degree in finance and was headed to New York City. If I hadn’t asked her to manage us instead of money, Heidi wouldn’t have introduced her to Levi. She wouldn’t have started using, and she’d be here right now.”

  My eyes grow wide. “So, yes, then.”

  He sighs. “She should have gone to Wall Street. Instead, she got in Dean’s beat-up Chevy with me.”

  “Hold on,” I say and sit back. “Did you force her into the car against her will?”

  “No.”

  “Then it wasn’t your choice. It was hers.” I tip my head. “You guys were successful. You got a record deal. That’s nothing to regret.”

  Latson looks like he doesn’t buy it. “It’s not that simple. There’s more to it.”

  “I’m sure there is. Maybe you should tell me.”

  He grimaces. “Not today.”

  Just then, his phone sounds. I pull my hands from his and shift my weight to the side so he can get it out of his pocket. “It’s Dean.” He reads the message: “Tell your woman to check her email.” His eyes light up. “I like the sound of that. Your woman,” he repeats.

  I try not to smile, but fail. I like being called his. However, I wish Dean wouldn’t have interrupted us. I want Latson to share more of his past, to get it off his chest. I feel like he hasn’t talked about it enough.

  “Where’s your phone?” he asks and grabs my ass, feeling around the pockets. “Let’s see what Dean sent.”

  I twitch and laugh. “Hang on.” Leaning over, I find my bag and pull it up on the passenger seat. I root around for my cell. “You seem excited about this. Or are you faking?”

  “It’s a great opportunity.” Latson doesn’t answer my question. “You deserve to play, and people deserve to hear you.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not so sure they should pay to see me. What if I embarrass Dean?”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “How do you know?”

  �
�Because music is a part of you. You love it too much.”

  I find my phone and open my email. There are a few messages from Dean. “Which one should we look at first? ‘Schedule’ or ‘Details’? Or ‘Sorry, here’s some more I forgot?’”

  “Doesn’t matter. Pick one.”

  His hands move to my thighs as I open the most recent message. “Sorry, there’s one more thing I forgot,” I read aloud. “Please say yes.” I give Latson a confused look. The message is followed by a bunch of worried smiley emoji’s.

  “Jesus,” he groans. “He’s already resorted to Plan B.”

  I shake my head. “Let’s try Details.” I touch the screen. “Here we go.” I lean forward so Latson and I can read the email together:

  Jen –

  I’ll try to break everything down. Basically the tour runs from late June until mid-November. We’ll be opening for Ariel, but you already know that. If you’re not familiar with her music, I would suggest some quality listening time. You never know what she may want to talk about, and it’s always a good idea to be friendly with the headliner.

  I stop reading and look at Latson. “You were friendly with her,” I tease.

  He squeezes my legs. “Stop. That was years ago.”

  I turn back to Dean’s email.

  Speaking of music, I know you’re not familiar with mine. Attached you will find the MP3 files for all ten of my songs. We only have 30 to 45 minutes each night before Ariel, depending on the venue. Each one is different. Regardless, we’ll need to do around eight songs per set. I would recommend downloading the files to your phone or iPod, to listen before rehearsals.

  I make a face and think well, duh.

  The label will cover our travel expenses like transportation and room & board. I hope you like busses and hotels. Some food may be covered; it depends what we’re attending. You will get paid $200 per show. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but with 63 shows on the schedule, it adds up.

  “Sixty-three shows?” My mouth falls open. “Is that normal?”

  Latson nods. “If you’re in front of someone like Ariel, yeah.”

  I do the quick math. That’s over twelve grand. Twelve thousand dollars in five months to play guitar? With basically no expenses? I hate to say I’m driven by money, but I’m starting to really like this idea.

  “Let’s look at the schedule,” Latson interrupts my thoughts.

  I close the email and go to the next. A list of cities and dates pop up. My eyes widen as I read them: Los Angeles. Anaheim. Houston. Vegas. New Orleans. Nashville. Atlanta. Tampa. Raleigh. New York. Boston. D.C. Detroit. The list seems endless.

  My pulse starts to race. “I’ve barely traveled out of my home state. This is … it’s …”

  “An amazing chance for you.”

  I was going to say overwhelming, but the look in his eyes makes me bite my tongue. He’s looking at me but through me, like he’s focused on a memory.

  “The first time you step on stage, any time you step on stage, it’s electric,” he says. “You’ll feel it in your bones, in your veins. Performing is one of the best things that ever happened to me. There’s no better rush, no bigger high.” His gaze finds my face. “I don’t know how else to describe it, but it will be like that for you, too. The music will take over, creating you instead of you creating it. The feeling won’t come close to your imagination, but it will try.”

  I’m moved by his passionate words. I know it’s killing him not to play. It’s almost as if he wants me to do it for him, so he can experience it again.

  “You’ll know what I’m talking about, after your first show in L.A.”

  I toss my phone onto the seat beside us and set my hands against his chest. “You really want me to go, don’t you?”

  “The truth?”

  “Always.”

  “I want you to go for you, and I want you to stay for me.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “I have to listen to my head and support you, because if I listen to my heart …” He hesitates. “I’ll never let you go.”

  My breath hitches. If anyone had those feelings for me before, they never said them. Latson doesn’t want to let me go while every other man has watched me walk away. I can feel my heart rearranging itself, to make a permanent place for him. “I’m kinda falling for you, too,” I confess.

  His eyes grow intense as he slides his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me close. “I’m going to have a sign made that says you belong to me. You’ll need to carry it with you everywhere you go.”

  I smile. “That might be difficult. How about you loan me one of your shirts? As long as it smells like you, I’ll wear it all the time.”

  He makes a sound low in his throat and brushes his lips against mine. “I like the idea of you wearing me.”

  I close my eyes as his mouth skims over my chin, traces my jaw, and lands on my neck. “I do, too.”

  “Maybe you should get my name tattooed somewhere,” he says between kisses. “So it’s permanent.”

  I laugh. “That takes wearing you to a whole new level.”

  “I’m surprised there’s no ink on this body.”

  I lean back a bit. “Is that a problem? I never planned on getting a tattoo.”

  He cocks an eyebrow. “Never?”

  “Never.”

  He glances at his arm, covered from wrist to shoulder. “Why? Do they turn you off?”

  I shake my head.

  “Do they turn you on?”

  I bite my lip and slowly run one finger up his arm. “You have no idea.”

  His eyes flash as his hands slide to my hips. “I’m going to miss the hell out of you,” he breathes.

  Have I decided to go? In a roundabout way, I guess I have. I know I have his support no matter what I decide and that means the world to me. “You said you wouldn’t let me stay.”

  “Can you blame me?” His hands leave my hips and start to untuck my shirt. “I get to date a hot musician who wears my clothes.”

  His fingers brush my bare waist, sending a wave of electricity over my skin. “It seems like you want me to wear no clothes.”

  “Only when you’re with me.”

  He pulls my shirt over my head, and I wrap my arms around his neck. I’m still sitting on his lap, and my head falls back as his tongue traces the edge of my bra. “We need to make the most of our time,” he says, his voice muffled. “Starting now.”

  “Umm hmm,” I agree.

  His hands travel up my back as he continues to kiss me, pulling my bra straps down my shoulders. “Backseat?” he murmurs.

  I lift my head and start to scoot off his lap. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I’m having second thoughts.”

  I pull my eyes from the sparkling diamonds in front of me to look at Pete. “Stop. Jules is going to love the ring you picked out for her.”

  “Mr. Elliott,” the sales woman interrupts. “Remember, here at Tiffany’s, we have a thirty-day refund policy. If your fiancée prefers a different style, you can always exchange your purchase.”

  “Thank you,” Pete leans forward to read her name tag, “Ellen. I hope that won’t be necessary. I’ve spent too much time here as it is.”

  I roll my eyes at my brother as I go back to looking at the jewelry. We’ve been here less than two hours. I’ve had fun standing in for Jules and trying on different rings for size. The one my brother chose is a one-carat square diamond on a plain platinum band. It’s beautiful and elegant, just like Jules. She’s going to love it.

  “Here you are, sir.” Another sales associate delivers two months’ of his salary in an unmistakable blue bag. “Good luck with your proposal.” She smiles.

  “Thanks,” he says and takes the dainty handles. “Although, her answer is a sure thing.”

  My eyes meet my brother’s and we start to laugh. The sales ladies give us curious looks. We didn’t tell them he had already tied the knot.

  As we leave the store, I
sigh. So many pretty things in one place. It reminds me of the last diamonds I wore – the earrings Derek gave me. I wonder if anyone picked them up off the floor at the wedding reception. I’m sure they weren’t cheap. Or, maybe they were fake. He said they weren’t, but he certainly was.

  “Now we need to come up with a way to break the news to Jules,” Pete says as he holds the door open. “You said her proposal needs to be epic.”

  I walk past him and out into the hustle of Michigan Avenue. Little does he know I have news of my own. I haven’t told him about the tour yet. I was going to bring it up this morning after breakfast, but he suggested ring shopping before I could. I didn’t want to ruin the trip, in case he got pissy about me taking off across the country with three guys I don’t know.

  “You said you had a couple ideas,” I say. “What are they?”

  “At the top of the Ferris wheel on Navy Pier, or on the observation deck of the Willis Tower.”

  My brow furrows. “Does she like heights?”

  He shrugs. “I thought those were unique places. I don’t want to do it at a restaurant or rent a scoreboard. Jules doesn’t do sports. She does fitness.”

  “What about sky writing?” I ask. “You could hire a plane and have it pull a banner over the lake.”

  He frowns. “I just dropped some serious cash on this ring.” He holds the bag with one finger. “I think hiring a plane is out of my price range. Unless you know a pilot.”

  Unfortunately, I don’t.

  “Any other ideas?” Pete asks.

  I tilt my head in thought as I keep up with foot traffic. “When did you want to do this? I need some time to think.”

  “I’m not in a big hurry. But I’d like to do it before we head home for Christmas.”

  I smile. My parents are going to be so excited. “I can come up with something before December. Especially if I’m going to be spending a lot of time on a bus.”

  “Why would you be on a bus?”

  We stop at the edge of the sidewalk to wait for the street light. I guess now is as good a time as any to tell my brother I’m leaving. I look up at him. “I have some news.”