Daddy's RockStar Friends

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Daddy's RockStar Friends Page 6

by Amanda Horton


  I skidded forward on the white gravel when I heard her.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Holmes,” called Kane.

  “Cole! Stop this.”

  “Don’t be like this, baby. You don’t know this snake like I do. Did he pull the massaging the feet thing on you?”

  “Baby?” sputtered Dys.

  Kane glanced over his shoulder.

  “Sure. In case you haven’t noticed this woman is fine.”

  “Oh, I noticed, asshole. So stay away.”

  “Me? I’m here first.”

  Jacine stared at both of them in disbelief and raked her silky hair with her hands.

  “What the fuck?” said Holmes as he came to stand behind Jacine.

  “You!” said Kane shaking his finger at Holmes. “Get the fuck out here and keep your hands off her.”

  Holmes's eyes blazed with anger. “And who are you to say anything about it?”

  A sick feeling swirls in my gut as I realize that Jacine is in the middle of a dangerous situation. These dickheads go off before the starting gun. And the stakes for Jacine were very high. The whole focus of her plan to rehabilitate the PR of these guys was to get them to co-operate on one project. In a town where one misstep meant millions in lost revenue, her failure would take a big chunk of the armor and cachet of Alexander and Wells.

  Franklin would be furious. And that was the last thing my health challenged friend or his overextended daughter needed.

  I consider my moves, because as volatile as this situation is, I could make it worse by stepping in. Working with creatives I learned that the stress of having to perform 24-7, to present an image that might not match the inner man lends volatility to the public persona. Only Jersey, by his father’s long association with the PR firm, knows that I mean no harm.

  But before I can decide anything, Jacine pulls up her five foot, seven-inch frame and fire flashes through her eyes.

  “All of you, get off my property now!”

  I groan because this is not the way to treat three impetuous rock stars. She knows this, but I see the stress in her eyes too, and for the first time in my life I see Jacine Alexander unravel.

  “But, sweetheart,” said Dys.

  “Sweetheart?” protested Kane.

  “Yeah, sweetheart. Want to make something of it?”

  “Who the fuck cares!” snapped Jacine.

  Holmes put his hands on Jacine’s shoulders, which was a mistake.

  “Get your hands off me!” yelled Jacine. And though the scrub and trees of the hills usually sop up sounds, her high voice reverberated against the walls of the slopes of the Santa Monica Mountains.

  I groan. There is a reason why you usually can hear a pin drop in the Hollywood Hills. It’s because the neighbors, sensitive to the star-studded antics of LA, keep things eerie quiet. You might hear traffic on the road, or the occasional barking of a dog, but otherwise you would think you were in the middle of the country, which we were not.

  It was suburbia. Oh, decidedly upscale, but Mr. And Mrs. America, just the same. Stars live here on sufferance.

  But do Kane, Dys, and Holmes recognize that? No. And before I know it Holmes pushes past Jacine and shoves Kane, who falls into Dys, who pushes him back into Holmes.

  And that’s when the fight starts.

  “Stop!” screamed Jacine, but that only made things worse. Giving lie to reports that LA police are slow, on this day within five minutes a police car pulls into the driveway flashing its lights.

  It didn’t take long for our worse fears to manifest and the Terrible Trio, bruised, sweaty, and dirty were hauled off to the local lock-up.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jacine

  Hell.

  I watched Cole, Jersey, and Rory cuffed and placed into police cruisers, and I watch my career drive away with them. Level-headed, Tobias put his arm around my shoulder.

  “We’ll fix this.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said. Never before in my life did I taste a defeat as bitter as this.

  “Jacy,” he said. “If anyone could, you can.”

  “This is all my fault,” I groan.

  “How’s that?” he said gently. Tobias guided me back into the house, and it was good to have a sturdy shoulder I could lean against. I needed this calm, reliability, stability. Everything Tobias had to offer.

  “They. I. Oh, I don’t know.” How can I explain that I crossed the line with not just one but all three of my clients? Sure, shenanigans like this were commonplace in Star land, but not at Alexander and Wells.

  “Are you trying to tell me you think you led them on?”

  Leave it to Tobias to get to the heart of the matter. I swallowed hard, not able to think a clear path out of this mess.

  “Sweetheart,” he said. “These guys are used to getting whatever woman they want at the drop of a hat. The problem is, as I see it, no one got anything they wanted.”

  “But I shouldn’t have—it was inappropriate—” I can’t even speak in complete sentences. “When the press—” My voice failed again. I am a grown woman, used to making multi-million dollar decisions and three overgrown teenagers have stolen my ability to think constructively.

  Tobias lead me to the sofa, the scene of my last crime, and I groaned again. He kept his arm firmly around me and it was a comfort to have his strong and familiar shoulder to lean on.

  “Jacy, these guys are the masters of inappropriate,” he said. “They knew what they were doing all along. The problem is, Princess, that they don’t know you. They don’t know how difficult relationships are for you since your mother left your father.”

  Oh god. Not that again. But he was right. My world crashed and burned when my mother took off with an asshole movie producer. Her overdose at his hands was the icing on the cake. He got ten years in jail. I got a lifetime of doubting my choices in men because any boyfriend I had was just like that jerk—too much glitz and glamour. The words “just like your mother” didn’t play well with me because it held the possibility that I could fail as badly as her. So I had sworn off men and buried myself in my work. But apparently, the magic spell of duty and responsibility had melted under the glitter and tinsel of three rock stars; as it would have with my mother. And I knew better. I fucking did.

  “But I should have—”

  “Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve. You’ll get on the phone, call your team, and start the next round of spinning things.”

  “But if they go to jail—”

  “Might be the best thing for them. Maybe I’ll ask the judge to try them together and then ask for work release on the day of the concert. I can see it now. All three of them delivered to the Bowl in their LA county prison garb. We’ll call the concert “Work Release.”

  The idea was so ridiculous I laughed through my incipient tears. But it was also genius. I could see the press releases now.

  “You know what? That idea is so outrageous; it’s a winner. But it’s a misdemeanor charge, at best. They can’t get much time for it.”

  “You’d be surprised. Up to a year in County Jail and a thousand dollar fine.”

  “I should know that, damn it.”

  “You are being too hard on yourself, Jacine. Your father is in the hospital and you took on three impossible clients.”

  The scent of him, flannel wool and his woodsy cologne wafted in a comforting haze. He kissed the top of my head and instinctively I leaned into him. Tobias, handsome, strong, reliable Tobias held me and soothed away my fears. It was a damned hard couple days and on top of that my sexual frustration threatened to send me over the edge. I could still feel Rory’s hands on my breasts performing magic on my body. The slightest touch of Tobias’s fingers on my thigh sends tingles through me that ignite my desire.

  I made the slightest of gasps, and Tobias lowered his lips to mine. Every fantasy I ever had about Tobias flashed through my mind, how I wanted him to hold me and kiss me drove me to get closer to him. Shifting my
body, I turn toward him and slipped my hand to his tie and tugged his head closer to mine.

  With infinite tenderness his lips touched mine. And yet, it was filled with such passion my mouth burned with the taste of his mouth. The bristles of his five o’clock shadow scraped my chin sparking a shower of tingles through me.

  Tobias ran his fingers on either side of my head and held my mouth to his, kissing me with such tenderness that my heart thawed and opened up to him. This was beyond bodies touching, or doing the right things to stoke desire. It was the sharing of two hearts and it took my breath away.

  “Why,” he asked, “would you want any of those boys when you could have a real man?”

  I gasped at his words. Why would I? Why wouldn’t I? Why not Tobias and not any of them? But I can’t answer. My mind jumbles with images of all four men, and to tell you the truth, they all stun me in their own way. They all had qualities I liked and admired, Cole’s romantic nature hidden under his balls-to-the-wall attitude, Jersey with his artistic sense, Rory’s pragmatic gentleness, and Tobias’s steadiness. Like a potato chip, I couldn’t have just one.

  I was very confused.

  My phone rang to save me from answering Tobias’s question and desperately I reached for it in the pocket of my duster.

  “Leave it,” he breathed and then kissed me again with a kiss so sweet I might go into diabetic shock. Oh, damn, oh damn, I am going straight to hell. I know this and I don’t even believe in fiery damnation.

  “It might be the hospital,” I gasped.

  Sensibly, he nodded and pulled away. But it was the one call I did not want to take, but absolutely had to. What if something was wrong?

  “It is my father.”

  Tobias’s face turned a peculiar shade of white as if he was caught doing something wrong.

  “How are you doing, dad?”

  “Damn it, Jacine. What the fuck is going on?”

  “Dad, you shouldn’t get yourself excited.”

  “Excited? What the hell is this on the television about a fight at my house, and Kane, Dys and Holmes getting arrested?”

  I flushed embarrassed that I was making out with our business lawyer while my clients were jailed.

  “Um, well they all showed up here, and apparently they can’t be in the same space for ten minutes without turning on each other. Tobias and I were just discussing our next steps.

  “Marshall’s there? Put him on the line.”

  I held the phone out to Tobias. “My dad wants to talk to you.”

  Tobias put on his lawyer face while he held the phone to his ear.

  “Uh huh. Yes. Sure. I’ll get right on it.”

  He handed the phone back to me.

  “Handle it,” my father growled. And the line went dead.

  “Whoa,” I said. “I’ve never seen him this angry. Not even when I took his precious Jag without asking him when I was sixteen.”

  “Yes, I remember that. But this is different.”

  “How’s that?”

  “That was only a car. Today he thinks you crashed his reputation.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Cole

  I screwed up. Not only am I sitting in this damned jail cell, but I am here with Dys and Holmes, the last two fucks I want to share a jail cell with. Jacine didn’t pick up on the one call I was allowed. Who the hell am I supposed to call now? I don’t have a business manager, and I burned the last set of friends I had with a stupid card game.

  Dys leaned back against the concrete eyeing me like I’m some jungle cat that could pounce on him at any moment. Holmes appeared to be meditating or some shit. Yeah. In a jail cell. He always was a little weird.

  And did I blame Dys for giving me the stink-eye? No. I screwed up the first best thing in my life with an asshole move. Now I shot down the second best thing in my life with my impulsiveness. When was I going to learn?

  Boss lady is more than hot. She’s the one I’ve been looking for all this time and I didn’t even know it. Who’d have thought? I thought it was just a kiss. Wrong. As the old song goes, “I fooled around and fell in love.” Yeah, that’s right—love. The big L. The thing that shall not be named when bedding groupies.

  But Jacine was no groupie. She was fire and class, and power shaped in the body of a goddess. But the damndest thing is that Dys and Holmes zeroed in on her too. While I don’t like it one bit, I can’t blame them.

  But what the hell are we going to do?

  “Guys,” I said. “We need to talk.”

  Dys snorted. Holmes gazed at me with an eerie calm that sent creepy shivers through me.

  “I freely admit I’ve been an ass.”

  Holmes nodded. “Acknowledgment is the first step in wisdom.”

  Dys stared at me like he didn’t believe it.

  “I shouldn’t have been such a jerk about the music. I’ll have Marshall draw of papers giving back your rights to your share, Dys.”

  “Keep the music. It doesn’t matter.”

  “But I thought—“

  “Shit, Kane. You don’t get it. I don’t care about the music. I can make more of that. And I don’t care about the money—ditto.”

  “Ditto,” said Holmes sagely.

  “It’s because you treated me like shit that I’ve held a grudge. And I shouldn’t have done that either because that helped to get us into this mess. No man, what hurt was that I lost my friend, friends,” he said as he nodded his head at Holmes “And I’m too old to go making a bunch of new ones. But the point is I didn’t want to either, and that’s made me a hard man to live with.”

  “Same here,” I said. “I can’t keep a band worth shit.”

  “That’s true for me too,” said Holmes. “I don’t even speak to my band mates. I just sign the checks.”

  “And no one,” I said, “played as good together as we do.”

  “We jammed,” said Dys.

  “Rocked and rolled,” agreed Holmes.

  “So I’m offering my sincerest apologies for every rotten thing I did. I was wrong.”

  “There’s something you don’t hear every day,” shot Dys.

  “Fuck you, Dys,” said Holmes. “The man is trying to say he’s sorry. Can’t you take that one thing with a little grace.”

  “Sorry,” mumbled Dys.

  “But there’s one thing,” I said. “I need you to lay off Jacine.”

  Dys's eyes narrowed.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m in love with her.”

  “What?” said Dys derisively. “You think love is when the hooker doesn’t charge you extra for the blow-job.”

  “It’s the real deal, I swear.”

  Dys scoffed. “You barely know her.”

  “You know it when you see it. I did that day we met in the office.”

  “Well, I’ve had a thing for her for four years, so don’t even say that doesn’t trump your feelings of looooovvve.”

  “You’re both off your rock star rockers,” said Holmes. “Neither one of you can connect with her soul like I do. Besides, we have a bigger problem. We’re in jail. Or haven’t you noticed?”

  “I noticed,” I said dryly.

  “So we’ll bond out,” said Dys.

  Ever the optimist, Dys is.

  “And then what,” continued Holmes. “Did you not pay attention the last time. We were given bond on the condition we didn’t pull this shit again.”

  “Now you tell us,” said Dys.

  “And, we might get a judge that decides that it is “teach the celebrities a lesson” week. Seven years, guys. That’s what we could get.”

  “You think? Because I haven’t seen you thinking very clearly at all.” said Dys.

  “Ha,” I said.

  “And you neither. Really. Thinking Jacine would want you?”

  “Hey,” said Dys. “For the first time in four years, we are speaking like human beings. Let’s not blow it now.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “Besides it doesn’t do a bit of good
fighting about it. It’s up to her who she wants.”

  “Really, Kane? When did you get so enlightened?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sitting in a jail cell with two of the biggest dicks in the world who happen to be my best friends, and I wonder? What did I do to deserve all this? I mean, Christ, I must be doing something wrong. Maybe it’s time to change what I’m doing.”

  Holmes snorted.

  “You’re absolutely right,” he said.

  “Geez, two of you in agreement,” said Dys. “I guess I’m outvoted.”

  “Look,” I said. “Whatever happens we need to stick together.”

  “Yeah,” said Holmes. “Friends.”

  “Brothers-in-arms,” I said. But it didn’t escape me that we didn’t agree about boss lady, and that’s a problem.

  Because I’m not letting a woman that hot out of my sight.

  The door to cell block buzzed open and an officer came to the door.

  “Your lawyer is here,” he announced.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jacine

  Tobias convinced the officers to let me into the room, and I sat on one side of the table with him as we waited for the officers to escort the guys in. My stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation. My father’s scolding should have set me straight on what exactly I’m supposed to do, and that isn’t falling into bed with any of these clients or our firm’s lawyer.

  In a futile attempt to reassure me, Tobias patted my thigh under the table.

  “It’s going to work out fine. Just stick to our plan. It will pull them into line.”

  My foot pulsed despite the soft ballet shoes I wore. The place between my legs throbbed because there is only so much make-out interruptus a girl can take before the fire in her nether regions drives her insane.

  Tobias proved wonderfully sweet, and supportive, and I wanted to hug him for standing at my back. But the problem is not what we did with each other’s backs but our fronts. I am uncomfortably aware that I’ve crossed another professional line. Putting my hands where they don’t belong on not just the firm’s lawyer but also my father’s best friend? How can someone with a Harvard Education screw up so badly in only two days?

 

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