After a suffocating hug, her mom pulled back and cupped Tessa’s cheeks in her hands. “Let me look at you. Did you get enough rest? How’s your throat? Did you overwork your voice?”
“Yes. No. And No.” While she received the onceover, Tessa looked at her mom. The woman was everything to Tessa. Independent. Beautiful. Vivacious. Successful. Loyal to a fault and fiercely protective of her family.
“Are you hungry? Papi made arroz con pollo last night and there’s some left in the fridge.”
Tessa wasn’t hungry. Her stomach was still in knots. But the idea of eating one of Papi’s authentic home-cooked meals reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything today.
“C’mon.” Her mom led her to the kitchen with an arm around her shoulder. “I’ll make you a plate. We’ll both have some.”
They sat at the breakfast bar with their warmed arroz con pollo. “I really missed this.” Tessa took a big bite of the chicken and relished in the flavor. Fast food on the road wasn’t for her. Lucas was better adept to it. Mason reveled in it. And Sindy admitted that she’d grown up on take-out but preferred a home-cooked meal. “Where is Papi and Dad?”
“Dad dragged Papi to the guitar store.”
A small chuckle bubbled up from Tessa’s throat. Her dad rarely bought guitars off the rack, preferring to have a custom-made Les Paul or Strat, but that wasn’t what she found amusing. The outing to a public mall necessitated an entourage of bodyguards and sometimes, shutting down the entire store. She doubted Prodigy would ever reach the degree of fame that Immortal Angel had achieved, but Tessa was happy to be out there on stage.
“How was your first tour, Tess? We really missed you and your brother. Mason too. That boy practically grew up in this house.” Her mom’s gaze drifted off to the side. “I remember so many sleepovers. Lucas and Mason were inseparable. They’d start playing music together and they’d disappear for hours. But I don’t have to tell you that.”
“No. I remember.” Tessa tried to keep the edges of her mouth from turning downward and forced her expression to remain even. She put on her bravest face, as memories flooded her mind. She’d been so fascinated with him as a child. His incredible smile was hypnotizing, and his boyish giggle used to make goosebumps rise on her arms. His talent captivated her. She used to sneak down to the studio and listen to Mason and Lucas play together. She’d sit on the stairs so they wouldn’t see her, and she’d just listen to the sound of the drums vibrating in her chest. She’d felt the beat in her blood. It was another reason she wanted to learn to play the bass. It had that same deep pulse of the song.
“You’re really enjoying that arroz con pollo, Tessa. You haven’t said a word in five minutes.”
“What?” Tessa looked at her nearly empty plate. “Oh. Yeah. I guess I am. We ate at some nice restaurants on the road, but mostly fast food. You know how it is. There wasn’t much free time.”
“Papi wants to make a big meal tomorrow night for everyone as a welcome home for Prodigy. It’ll be nice to have everyone together.” Her mom put her plate on the counter and waited for Tessa to finish hers before clearing the top of the island. “Now, let’s see this sketch and the fabulous fabric you told me about.”
Tessa pulled one bolt of fabric from the tote bag and placed in on the kitchen island. She unrolled a few yards and let it blow in the air as she shook it open. The silver thread picked up the overhead light and glistened, contrasting with the dark background.
“Black-on-black leopard?” Her mom fingered the silver metallic thread that outlined one of the leopard spots. “This is gorgeous.”
She knew her mom would love it since all Jessi Blade garments were lined with a pink silk leopard print.
“This is going to drape beautifully, Tessa. Let me see your sketch.”
Tessa dug the sheet of paper out of her bag, unfolded it and held it up.
Her mom took the paper and studied the sketch intently, her eyes roaming the page. “I love it. Let’s go to my workroom.”
Tessa followed her mom, fabric carefully cradled in her arms, to the room where trendsetting designs were born. She had spent so many hours in here as a kid, watching her mom construct designs for one of her many fashion houses, or custom-made couture pieces for the hottest rock stars and celebs. Tessa had learned, firsthand, the art of design and sewing and recently made several outfits for the tour, alongside her mother, just as they were doing now.
“You’re so talented, Tessa.” The pride always shined brightly from her mother’s gaze. “You have the capability to be a famous designer with your eye for fashion and edgy style. You’re a strong businesswoman with incredible work ethic. But most of all, you’re a performer with vocal ability beyond comprehension. You can do anything you want in life. You can have anything you want in life. Don’t ever be afraid to reach for the stars. They’re there waiting for you to pluck them out of the sky. Nothing is out of your reach.”
Tessa smiled and nodded, although her chest was caving in as her thoughts drifted back to Mason. She still couldn’t believe that she’d been so wrong about how he felt about her. She was never wrong. Her instincts were spot on. She paused for a moment and wondered why she was backing down so easily. She never accepted defeat. If she wanted something, she went after it and didn’t quit until she got it. Why was she giving up? Mason was worth fighting for. Hope and light filled her heart, and she vowed to make Mason see that they were meant to be together.
Mason ran his fingers through his short hair and blew out a breath. “Christ.” He never suspected that Tessa was in love with him. He never saw any signs and was still shocked by her admission. It left him dazed and second guessing every interaction between them. He tried to recall conversations that they’d had in the past, searching for innuendo or comments he’d missed. Yeah, she’d been a flirtatious little girl, enamored by her big brother and his best friend. She would be riveted as he and Lucas played music together, often happy to simply sit and watch them or dance around the room instead of playing with her toys. She had idolized them both, but he thought it was normal, and she outgrew it.
Maybe he never read into her dazzling smile and wide-eyed gazes because she was significantly younger than him. Seven years wasn’t a big deal right now, but it had been when she was three and he was 10. And when she was 10 and he was 17. He had always viewed her as a little girl with a personality twice her size. His lips raised at the corners as he remembered the vivacious and boisterous attitude that had been prevalent since the day she was born. One thing about Tessa, she took charge of every situation and demanded attention. She was strong-willed and hard-headed. She knew what she wanted and went after it. She ran the band with an iron-clad fist, never accepting anything less than 100% from each of them, and even more from herself.
He had a decade of experience in the music industry over Tessa and Lucas. He’d toured the world with internationally acclaimed bands, but she ran Prodigy. She ran the show, and heaven forbid something or someone got in its path. She had a keen business sense and was as sharp as a whip. Nothing got past her.
He crossed the length of his apartment and stepped onto the balcony. The rich scent of carbon monoxide rose from the bustling New York City streets below filled with trucks, taxi cabs and traffic. He took a deep breath and smiled. It smelled like home. Central Park, with its lush greenery, served as a soft backdrop to the harsh concrete that surrounded it. Staring off into the distance, forgetting about the noise and activity below, he dazed out as his mind once again reverted to Tessa. He took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. “Tessa, you just blew my fucking mind.” His phone rang and he jumped, sure it was Tessa who always had some kind of weird mental telepathy, but it was his dad.
“Welcome home, Mase!”
“Hey, Pop. How’d you know I was back already?”
“Do you think a Wilder is gonna slip into this city unrecognized?”
It was common knowledge that he and his parents were residents of the Upper West Side, but his da
d was the one who caused a near riot and couldn’t step out of the house without a group of bodyguards. Although a star in his own right, Mason’s fandom didn’t encompass one-tenth of the magnitude his father commanded. Plus, he was more mellow, and the fans treated him as such. “I guess a 50-foot tour bus with Prodigy’s logo plastered across the side traveling down Fifth Avenue was a dead giveaway,” he said, smiling at the knowledge that his dad was only a few blocks away.
“It’s already all over social media. Drop by after you get settled. I miss ya, Mase.”
“Miss you, too, Dad. Tell Mom and Aunt Mary I’ll be there in a bit. I just want to grab a shower. And tell Michael I’m bringing a special treat.”
Mason took his Lambo rather than walking, which would have been quicker than mid-day traffic, but he missed driving the vehicle. Lamborghini was sort of a signature brand for his family. His parents had gone through an array of color changes over the years and recently settled on twin black-on-black models. Mason’s was a deep charcoal with tan interior. When he was a kid, his dad had owned a bright red Lambo and had bought his mom a bright yellow one as a surprise. At the time, he thought it was the best present in the world and couldn’t imagine anyone getting such an extravagant gift. By the time he was 10 he realized that dropping two hundred grand on a gift for no special reason was commonplace in this family.
The familiar white and blue peaks of his favorite fast food joint made him swoop across two lanes of traffic and into the rare available parking space on Sixth Avenue. He ran inside, causing a small uproar as fans recognized him but staff came to his aid right away, and he was back in his car with two boxes filled with sliders in a New York minute. He stuffed two in his mouth before he pulled back into traffic, groaning with pleasure. There had been franchises in some of the cities he’d visited over the last few months, but no one did food like New York. And no one made a hamburger like White Castle.
By the time he took the private elevator up to his parents’ penthouse, one of the boxes was a half dozen shy. The doors opened directly into the apartment, and his little brother flew into his arms like Spiderman. He lifted the 10-year-old with one arm and gave him a hug, while trying not to drop the two boxes of White Castle. “I missed ya, Michael. Did you invent the next viral video game while I was gone?”
“I’m still working on it. Give me a few more weeks.”
The kid was a genius. A whiz at technology. Uninterested in music like Mason and their dad, or running Falcon Records like their mom, the kid was all about designing and creating video games.
“Mase!” His dad’s voice echoed in the open floor plan as he approached wearing the signature Wilder smile.
Mason found himself trapped in a big bear hug, which he heartily returned.
“How does it feel to be home?” his dad asked.
“Great. Sorry, you weren’t my first stop.” He grinned and motioned to Michael, who sat on the floor with an open box of White Castle in his lap, happily chewing with a smile of satisfaction.
His dad laughed. “I can’t believe you taught your brother to eat those things.”
“Mom! Mase is home!” Michael yelled with his face turned up toward the ceiling.
She came in from the other room wearing a tailored business suit complete with leather embellishments, obviously one of Jessi Blade’s designs. Her blond hair was still shoulder length, and she looked like she hadn’t aged a day in twenty years. She kissed him on both cheeks and hugged him tightly. “I’m so happy you’re home. I miss you so much when you’re on the road. At least this time you were with people I actually trust.” She waggled her finger at him. “You forget that I know exactly what happens on a tour bus.”
“White Castle?” Michael held up the rectangular box, offering one to his mother.
Her jaw fell open, and she playfully shook her head at Mason. “I can’t believe you brought fast food. We have a kitchen filled with gourmet meals and snacks. Are you hungry?”
She still had a personal chef who cooked every day, but Mason loved nothing more than White Castle. He plucked another burger from the box and stuffed it into his mouth. “I’m good.”
“Is that my Mason?” Aunt Mary’s sweet high-pitched voice carried through the room over the hum of her electric wheelchair as it glided toward him over the Brazilian Cherrywood. “Mason! I’m so happy you’re home!”
“Aunt Mary!”
Her hair was stark white now, without a hint of its original color which, only a few months ago, had clung to a few stubborn strands which refused to give in to the aging process. There were more wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, but she still beamed at him from behind her silver-rimmed glasses. He glanced down at the pink Burberry blanket that covered her knees. It didn’t matter if it was 90 degrees outside, she still had to have a blanket over her legs, and this pink plaid one, a gift he had given her on Mother’s Day, was her favorite.
He eradicated the distance between them in a few quick strides, happy to see her most of all. She gripped the arms of her chair tightly and started to rise, her body shaking from the simple effort.
“Aunt Mary, sit.” He touched her soft shoulder, concerned about her attempt to leave her wheelchair.
“No. No. I must hug my Mason.”
His parents were there in an instant, taking the blanket before it landed on the floor and gently supporting Aunt Mary until she was safely on her feet. She hugged him and patted his shoulder. “Oh, Mason,” she cooed.
Her frail frame felt like nothing in his arms, and her legs trembled, unused to the burden of supporting her body, so he held her tightly.
She rested her hand on his shoulder and continually patted it as she repeated his name. “You haven’t been gone this long in a while.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Guilt gnawed at him. Although Aunt Mary was his great aunt, she was more like his grandmother, and they shared a close bond. He flashed her a teasing smile. “You can always come on tour with Prodigy, the same way you toured with Immortal Angel when I was a kid.”
“Oh, no.” She emitted a lighthearted laugh and waved a shaky hand at him. “I was a much younger woman back then. I still can’t believe I toured with a rock band.”
Mason’s mom helped Aunt Mary back into the chair. “You’re a bad ass, Aunt Mary,” she said.
“And you’re a dear.” Aunt Mary patted his mom’s hand with affection, then she wrinkled her nose and sniffed the air. “Is that White Castle I smell?”
Mason picked up the box of sliders and offered her one. She presented a mischievous grin and took one from the box and nibbled on it.
Mason did the same. “Just like old times, Aunt Mary. Do you want another?”
“Careful,” Mason’s mom warned. “I don’t want your stomach to get upset. We’re going by Angel’s for one of his home-cooked meals tomorrow night, and I know you don’t want to miss that.”
“Heavens, no.” Aunt Mary retracted her hand. “I love Angel’s cooking. And I’m looking forward to seeing Tessa and Lucas, too.”
Thoughts of authentic Cuban cuisine, maybe lechon asado, had Mason’s taste buds watering, but the smile fell off his face the second he remembered the uneasy tension between himself and Tessa. The White Castle burgers felt like a brick in his stomach and he dropped his arm to his side, almost dropping the small burger to the floor.
For almost an hour he totally forgot about the awkwardness that stood between him and a girl he loved like a sister. He knew he needed to face Tessa and clear the air. They needed to talk about the elephant in the room and get it out of the way. He just needed to figure out what the hell he was going to say to her.
Mason tapped his signature rat-a-tat-tat on the door to a place that was like a second home to him. Long Beach was so different from the concrete jungle of the City, and he took in a deep breath of ocean air.
The door suddenly swung open and Tommy Blade greeted him. It still shocked Mason how much Lucas resembled his dad. They had the same long blond hair, the same brigh
t blue eyes and the same talent on the guitar. There was no doubt that they were father and son.
Tommy gave Mason a bear hug accompanied by a few slaps on the back. When he pulled back, he held onto Mason’s upper arms with a strong grip. “Congratulations on your first tour with Prodigy.” He waved his hand. “You’re an old pro at touring by now. It probably doesn’t even phase you anymore. My kids, on the other hand, are over the moon. Was it everything you hoped for?”
Mason had been waiting for years for Prodigy to go mainstream and take the leap from local bar band to signed touring band. He filled with animation as he recalled the high of finally fulfilling his destiny. “The tour. Playing on stage with Prodigy. Watching the reception from the fans. Everything about it was incredible.” Everything except the last night of the tour when Tessa dropped a bomb on their friendship, and the animation that filled him as he recalled the high of the tour disappeared. His heart sank as he thought of Tessa. He still felt so bad about how he rejected her but didn’t know how to address it. He decided that the only way to get past it was to act as if it never happened. But how could he ever forget the hurt and devastation that stared back at him in her expressive brown eyes. He hated himself for making her feel that way. She was such a sweet girl, so full of life and love for everyone around her.
He let out a deep breath as he stepped into the marble entrance, wanting to see Tessa face to face and get the awkwardness out of the way. He tilted his head and turned his ear upwards, noting the lack of noise. All of Immortal Angel was here, judging by the amount of sports cars that lined the driveway, and voices should be echoing off the cathedral ceiling. “Where is everybody?”
“The guys are in the studio. Tessa and Sindy are upstairs in Tessa’s old suite, and the women are in the great room.” Tommy slung his arm around Mason’s shoulder, bumping him with a rock-hard pec. “We’re listening to Immortal Angel’s new album. Tonight’s not only a welcome home dinner for you kids, it’s our unofficial CD release party.”
MASON WILDER: Radical Rock Stars Next Generation Duet Book 2 Page 5