“What?” I mumble.
“Aunt Brooklyyyn,” Melody sings from the other side.
I let out a groan and throw my head back. I love my niece to pieces, but she has the bad habit of waking everybody up at seven in the morning. I’m especially not after having two long nights in a row. Friday’s clubbing and last night’s shows completely drained me. I wipe my face with both hands and smile as I open the door.
“Hi, Little Miss Sunshine,” I say.
She laughs and shakes her head. I started calling her that after I saw the movie, not that she knows that, but Hendrix gets a laugh out of it. The family in the movie has nothing on our dysfunctional mess, though, and that’s saying a lot.
“Daddy made pancakes. You want?” she asks, shifting on her little feet.
“Sure. I’ll be right out.”
I turn to the bathroom and get ready as quickly as I can. When I come back out, I find Melody lying in my bed with an iPad in her hands.
“Is that mine?” I ask. Melody also has a habit of breaking iPads, and I really don’t want to go to the Apple store on a Sunday.
“Mine,” she says, going back to whatever she’s doing.
“Let’s go eat.”
As we walk down the stairs, Melody tells me how her mom is doing, which of course she has a short answer for. Even when she’s broken down, usually courtesy of my idiotic brother, Sarah holds up a strong front for Melody.
“Are you excited to start Kindergarten this year?” I ask, scooping Melody up in my arms and pushing her long blonde curly hair from her face.
Her green eyes widen as bright as her smile and she hugs the iPad to her chest. “Yes! I know how to write my first and last name!”
“Wow, you’re ahead of your class already? Good girl.” I kiss her forehead and set her down on a barstool when we get to the kitchen.
“Mornin’,” Hendrix says as he plates the pancakes he made.
“Mornin’ to you too. Thanks for sending Cinderella to wake me up,” I say with a shake of my head.
Hendrix laughs. “You know how it is. You had a late night, huh?”
I shrug. “Not as late as Friday, but yeah. I went to the tiniest hole in the wall bar out in the Village and saw a couple of bands.”
“Anything good?”
“Eh.” I shrug.
The truth is, the bands I saw were good, but not good enough. There’s so much untouched talent out there, and I’m sure somebody in my position could have gone to the bar last night and come home raving, but I know the difference between good and gotta have it. The three bands I saw were good but nothing that I felt would be amazing, even though I wish them all the luck in the world.
“Well, you know I trust you implicitly when it comes to sh … stuff like this,” Hendrix says, shooting a quick smile to Melody.
I sigh, knowing that this is probably the only thing he and my father trust me on, but I can’t even be mad at them. Through the years I’ve learned that you reap what you sew, and I’ve sewn a lot of stupid shit in my life, so I can’t blame people for underestimating me. I just wish they would give me the chance to prove them wrong in other aspects of my life. C’est la vie.
“I know. I’m the best,” I say with a shrug and laugh when he gives me a disbelieving look.
“So modest,” he says.
“I learned from the best.”
We spend the rest of our morning walking around Central Park, until we’re so exhausted from running around and the heat that we have to take a break. We cross the street and duck into a small restaurant called Sarabeth’s that Hendrix swears is amazing. Judging from the amount of people in here, I would think he has the right idea. Then again, the place is as small as the kitchen in Hendrix’s penthouse, and there are over thirty people in here so it’s not that difficult to get the out of this world illusion from it.
Hendrix asks for somebody and five minutes later we’re sitting down, leaving the line of people that were on the waiting list before us fuming. My brother seems nonchalant about it, as he always does, because he’s used to getting the five star treatment everywhere he goes. He is so the son of my parents. I think what separates me from them is the troubles I’ve encountered because of all the shit I reap due to all the shit I’ve sewn. If it weren’t for that, I would probably feel the same sense of entitlement the rest of the Harmon family seems to be stuck on. I love my family because they’re the only one I have and the only one I know, but their actions are questionable most of the time.
We eat until we’re stuffed and walk back to Hendrix’s place, swinging Melody in between us until she gets tired and he has to carry her.
“She’s going to pass out as soon as we get in,” Hendrix says over her little blonde head.
I smile, watching the way her blue eyes are unwillingly fluttering closed. “She’s already about to pass out.”
I hold onto my brother’s arm as we walk and snuggle into it so I can be closer to Melody’s angelic face. Whenever I’m with her I feel like I need to enjoy every second of it. I feel like I need to show her everything that I wish was shown to me when I was a kid just so that I can selfishly experience it through her eyes for the first time. I stroke her hair softly when we get to a stoplight and just watch her, wishing I could take all the bad in the world out so that she never has to worry about being hurt or suffering. But most of all I watch her and wish she could stay innocent forever. I would kill to have that innocence back. The kind where you don’t question things or people’s motives a hundred times before you decide that you can trust them. Kids just trust without question, and it’s such a beautiful thing. A beautiful yet naïve thing to do, and as naïve as it is, I wish I could get it back.
Letting out a wistful sigh, I turn my head from her face and look across the street straight into the face of Nick, gasping at the unexpected sight of him. He’s crouched down with his hands on his knees and catching his breath from a jog, it seems. I can see the sweat glistening over his forehead before he wipes it with his forearm. His dark blond hair is styled in his typical faux hawk and he’s wearing a sleeveless black shirt with black basketball shorts. His arms, which are usually covered, are exposed for once and the visuals I’ve had of how they might look don’t disappoint. He has an even golden tan and his arms are shapely, the muscles ridging in and out from his shoulders to his triceps. When he stands fully, he snaps his ear buds out of his ear and smiles slightly at me, his piercing eyes jumping from me to Hendrix and back to me. I can see the question in them, but I choose not to answer. I smile back and offer him a small wave right before the cross light flips on and we begin to walk toward each other.
I’m wearing my Tory flats today, my feet still suffering from the other night, and there are enough people walking around us for me to miss him, but I don’t. Nick never takes his eyes off of me as he crosses the street. He walks around a group of people, purposely stepping to my side. There’s no time for formal hellos in the middle of the street, and I’m glad for that because I don’t want to introduce him to my brother and do the whole shebang in a crowded street. My smile is fixed on my face as he approaches, also smiling at me, his eyes crinkling in mischief. When he brushes past me, he takes my hand and squeezes it slightly. It’s just a squeeze. Just. But it’s enough to get my heart pumping, my blood tingling, and my eyes widening as if I’ve been caught doing something wrong, which I know is ridiculous, but that’s how his touch makes me feel.
Monday, Monday. Nobody likes you Monday. Nobody likes you when they need to go to school and nobody likes you when they need to go to work. So, Monday, you freaking suck. Take a day off.
I groan, getting out of bed when my alarm clock chimes for me to get up. As exhausted as I feel, I have to smile when I hear Melody’s footsteps pattering on the hardwood floor and her giggles bouncing off the walls. I can’t imagine having such a bright, beautiful little girl and not seeing her daily. I don’t know how my brother does it, or if it even affects him the way I would imagine it does. He�
�s an amazing brother and a great father, but he is a man and men feel differently about these things. Then again, my mother is a woman and she completely wipes her ass with me, so I guess it depends on the person.
Once I’m ready for work, I switch my phone on and make myself coffee. I sort through my brother’s endless funny mugs and find a decent enough one to take with me. It says: I LIKE BIG MUGS AND I CANNOT LIE. My brother, mug connoisseur.
“You ready?” Hendrix asks, stepping into the kitchen with Melody trailing behind.
“Ready. Is Mel going to work with us?” I ask.
I wonder if he thinks these things through when he brings her for the week. I’m guessing he does, but still, I wonder how much thought goes into what she’s going to be doing while he’s at work.
“Umm no. Well, she is, but Uncle Rob is picking her up there,” Hendrix responds, checking his huge silver watch. “He should be there soon. Let’s go.”
I take charge of strapping Melody into her booster chair, while Hendrix works out details of a meeting he has. On the way to Harmon, I show Melody the pictures Allie sent me of the newest microphones and let her hold the sample of the one I have in my purse.
“It’s heavy,” Melody says with a giggle.
“It is. It’s made of gold,” I joke.
Her blue eyes widen like saucers and she gasps. “Gold? Like Golden Doubloons?”
I smile with a confused frown. “Golden the what?”
Hendrix turns in his seat. “It’s from Jake and the Never Land Pirates. Some gold coins.”
“They’re not gold coins, Daddy! They’re Golden Doubloons,” Melody insists, shaking her head in dismay at him before turning her pretty round face back to me. “You get them when you solve problems.”
I nod my appreciation. “Cool. I like that. Golden Doubloons. I’ll Google them so I can see what they look like.”
“They look like coins,” Hendrix chimes in again.
Melody groans. “They’re not coins like quarters,” she whispers to me.
I laugh, kiss her round cheeks, and place the gold microphone in the case in my purse. When we get to Harmon, we find our uncle, Rob, waiting for us outside. My smile magnifies when I see the excited smile on his face. Uncle Rob is my favorite member of my mom’s family, aside from Nina’s mom, Mireya. He’s the one freest of judgment, and the most loving and giving human being I have ever met. Not that I’ve met many of those.
I wrap my arms around my uncle, who’s exactly my height in heels, and he squeezes me tightly.
“Oh my God, I’ve missed you!” Uncle Rob says into my hair. “You look so good. Let me see you!” He lets go of me and holds me at arms’ length. “Giiirl, you work the hell out of that dress!”
I laugh loudly, throwing my head back and slap him playfully on the chest. I’m wearing a very fitted navy blue dress with white buttons down one side. It ends just at my knees, so it looks professional yet sexy.
“Don’t tell me you still don’t know how to take a compliment,” he chides.
I roll my eyes, smiling. “Please. You look great too, crazy. How’s Vic?”
My uncle’s brown eyes light up. “Good. Very good! You’ll have to come over soon.”
My uncle and his longtime boyfriend, Victor got legally married recently and they are over the moon. They’ve been together for over ten years, so it’s not like they weren’t married before, but making it legal made them feel like they were accepted. I know, at least for my uncle, that’s a huge feat.
Hendrix and I say goodbye to Melody and Uncle Rob. Hendrix promises he’ll pick her up as early as he can.
“Oh, don’t worry. You know this little gal and I get along just right. We’re going to the American Girl store. We’re going to get ice cream. We’re going to have a pizza party.” With every word that comes out of Uncle Rob’s mouth, Melody’s smile stretches wider, and I can tell they’re going to have a great time.
“Shit, I wish I was going with them,” I mope quietly as Hendrix ushers me inside the building.
He laughs loudly. “Of course you do.”
“Ice cream, shopping, pizza—what more can a girl want?” I say, placing my hands over my heart with a dreamy sigh, making Hendrix laugh louder.
We’re still bumping shoulders and laughing at our own stupidities when we step into the elevator, which is a lot less crowded than last Monday and holds a very, very hot looking Nick and a very, very fine looking Shea. My mouth drops when I see Nick, or Shea, or both, I don’t even know, but my mouth is on the floor. I have to blink a couple of times to snap myself out of it.
“What the hell?” I say, coming to a standstill in the threshold of the elevator and stumbling forward when Hendrix bumps into me from behind. Both Nick and Shea lurch forward and steady me to keep from tripping over my own feet.
“Brooklyn! What the fuck?” Hendrix growls as he drops his cell phone.
“Sorry,” I say, cringing as my face colors in embarrassment. “I got caught off guard.”
“Jesus,” Hendrix mutters, straightening out his suit. “‘Sup, Shea?”
Shea bumps fists with Hendrix and leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. “I told you I was coming.”
I raise my eyebrows, looking at Nick over Shea’s shoulder. “Yeah, I didn’t realize you were going to come talk to me at work unannounced.”
“What?” Shea asks and then laughs. “Oh! No!” He laughs some more, shaking his head. His muddy green eyes look just as amused as Nick’s intense aqua pools. “We’re going up to the studios … new album … remember?”
“Oh,” I say when realization dawns on me. “Oh. Of course!”
Shea takes a step back and looks at me, scratching the barely there stubble over his chin. “There are definite benefits to recording here now, though,” he says, his tone playful, but I know what he’s doing. I know he’s trying to see how far he can push this and it’s tempting. It’s very tempting. He’s standing there wearing his signature white T-shirt that shows off his heavily tattooed sculpted yet lean arms, a beanie cap over his untamed curly dark hair that peeks out at the bottom, and his snug in the right places jeans. Very tempting, but not happening. Not anymore.
“Shea,” Hendrix warns, not looking up from his phone.
“What do you think, BK?” Shea asks, ignoring my brother’s warning and grabbing my chin to look at him. I’m wearing heels so he doesn’t have to tilt my face; we’re almost the same height. He may have an inch on me, if anything.
My eyes flick from Shea to Nick, who hasn’t stopped looking at me. I’ve felt the weight of his stare on me the same way I felt it since the day I met him at the airport. It’s a hot I’ll take what I want, and I want you stare that he gives me and it makes me shiver every single time. I swallow loudly when my eyes meet his serious blue eyes and I wonder what he could be thinking. I can’t tell what could be going on inside his head, and it kills me.
“I think that you need to focus on your album and keep your member in your pants,” I respond with a smile.
Shea laughs, as does Hendrix, but Nick just continues to look at me. His lips quirk up slightly at my joke, but his eyes continue to trail slowly down my body. The fire in his gaze while he does it makes me hold my breath as I wait for those beautiful blue eyes to land on my face again. And when they do, I can’t even let go of my breath because of the smoldering look he’s giving me. My heart starts ricocheting in my ribs, making me bite down on my lip and shift beside Shea so that he can’t see my face. I don’t take my eyes off of Nick’s though. He’s daring me to. I know he is, so I don’t. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. I just want to get lost in those eyes and never be found.
After what seems like an eternity and stopping on every single floor, the elevator finally reaches the forty-fourth floor.
“See you later,” Shea says, bumping Hendrix’s fist before looking back at me. “I’ll go up there when I get a break. Or come down, we’ll be in ten.”
I smile. “Sure.”
Hendrix interrupts him by stepping out of the elevator for him to follow and signals me to get out with them, so I do.
“What’s up?” Hendrix asks, tucking his phone in his pocket.
“I didn’t introduce you to my producer, Nick,” Shea says, signaling from Nick to Hendrix. “Nick, Hendrix Harmon. Hendrix, Nick Wilde.”
Hendrix watches Nick for a moment and then nods slowly, a smile creeping up on his face. “Wilde. Nick Wilde. Holy shit. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you,” he says, extending his hand out for Nick to shake.
They shake hands and exchange words while I stand there watching them, not knowing what to do. Shea finally steps in and re-introduces Nick and me.
“Oh that’s right, you guys met in the airport,” Shea says.
Nick and I nod and smile, looking at each other until Hendrix clears his throat and tells them he’ll join them in the studio at some point today.
“Yeah, come down whenever,” Shea says, bumping Hendrix’s fist, bumping my fist and walking away. “Number ten,” he calls out over his shoulder.
“Catch you later,” Hendrix says to Nick before he walks to the elevator again.
“Sure,” Nick replies. He looks at me for a moment and opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it and closes it again. “See you later,” he says.
I smile. “Yep. Guess you’ll have to.”
I turn and begin to walk toward my brother, who’s on the phone again.
“You look sinful in that dress,” Nick murmurs in my ear, making me jump at his unexpected nearness.
Before I can even formulate words to thank him, he walks away, leaving me to stare at his broad shoulders and the way his arms swing when he walks. I come to the conclusion that he must have been an athlete before. What kind, I have no idea. The kind that was tall with perfectly structured muscles that melded around their perfectly built bones.
“Bee?” Hendrix says.
Blinking away my thoughts, I follow him into the elevator.
Catch Me Page 7