I took a step towards it. “You could always have someone paint it. Make it an accent wall or something. It’ll get your guests to take pictures in front of it—if it’s something that actually grabs their attention.”
“Oh, shit. I didn’t even think of that.” Zay turned and looked at Vin. “She’s right. We need an attraction, besides the music and drinks, of course.”
Vin folded his arms, and I could feel him looking at me. His gaze was hot, nearly searing my skin. I avoided it, still looking around, taking in the neon lights and chandeliers.
“There’s only one person I’d trust enough to paint that wall,” Vin broadcasted.
I finally looked at him. He was already focused on my eyes.
“Oh—that’s right. Little Bob Marley does paint!” Zay shouted with a laugh.
“Oh—no, no. Vin. Seriously. No. I wouldn’t even have the time,” I responded quickly.
He took a step closer. “Then make time. Fly back here. Work on it. You can even sign your name on it, so people will know who it was created by.”
“That’s nice, but no.” I shook my head and waved my hands. “I won’t be back here anytime soon after I fly out Thursday.”
“Oh, come on, Marley,” Zay placed his half-empty glass down on the tabletop nearest to him. “Look, if you won’t do it for this fucker over here, at least do it for me. We’ll even pay you, if you want.”
“You don’t have to pay me.”
“Well, what do you want in return?” Vin asked, head going into a slight tilt.
“Nothing! I really don’t need anything. I wouldn’t mind painting a mural. Trust me. But . . . well . . .” I bit my bottom lip.
Vin studied my face, and when he realized what I couldn’t say, his shoulders slumped and he knocked his head back dramatically, staring up at the ceiling. “Fucking Voldemort!” he yelled.
Zay doubled over with laughter, like he knew all about the Voldemort thing before it even came up in our little agreement. “I need another drink,” he laughed, picking his glass up and walking back to the bar.
I exhaled, giving Vin a wary sideways glance. “Lloyd would never let me come back to paint it. Not when he knows it’s for your club.”
“Then don’t tell him you’re coming back for my club.” He took a step closer. “Tell him you’re coming back to take care of your mother. Wouldn’t be a lie. You’d still be checking in on her.”
“I can’t do that, Vin, and you know it. I can’t keep holding secrets. I can’t—” I stopped talking, swallowing hard. “You know I can’t spend that much time around here and especially around you.”
“Why not?” he murmured, closer now, and I could smell his cologne. My belly tightened.
“I just can’t.”
“You can. I can tell you want to.” He touched my shoulder but I stepped away, holding up a finger.
“Don’t. Please.”
He held his hands in the air. “Okay. Fine. I won’t.” If he hadn’t said that with a smirk, maybe I would have believed him. “Just think about it. You don’t have to agree to it tonight. I know once you fly back to Texas, you’ll be bored out of your fucking mind. Voldemort will be working, and you’ll be stuck there. You don’t have much to work on for the wedding because Becks has most of it handled. Why not bide your time by coming here and doing something you love?” I met his gaze and he smiled a bit. “How about this: don’t think of it as a favor for me. Think of it as a favor for Zay. It’s his club, too. Plus, he’s been through enough shit already.” We both looked over at him as soon as he said that. Zay was pouring the bourbon to the rim of his glass now, eager for his next sip.
Sighing, I looked towards the blank wall again. I couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t calling to me. It was an open canvas, waiting to be filled with color. I could make that wall breathe—bring it to life. I knew I could . . . but coming back here scared the living shit out of me.
Being around Vin, in California where our memories were born? It was like asking to give my heart the death penalty. It slayed me.
“I’ll see,” I told him, “but I can’t promise you anything or that I will even be back. I still have some things to do that are wedding related.”
His face didn’t change. It remained even. “Yeah, throw that one in my face—in my club. Not lame at all.”
“What?” I felt my face burn. “It’s the truth. I do. And you still have to come back sometime soon to get fitted for your tux.”
“Don’t remind me,” he grumbled.
We both watched Zay down his bourbon in less than a minute. Vin shook his head. I looked up, and I could see the pain flash across his face as he watched his best friend drown in the alcohol.
I put my focus on Zay again.
“Fine,” I said quietly, and I felt him look down at me. “I’ll come back and paint it. But only for Zay.”
I didn’t see it, but I knew he was grinning from ear-to-ear. “Of course.” I heard the smile in his voice. “For Zay.”
MARLEY
I flew back home Thursday morning, but didn’t stay for long.
Turns out that while I was away in California, Lloyd had come back and packed clothes. He had flights all week and would be staying in hotels since he wouldn’t be returning to Texas until Monday now.
For some reason, deep down, I was kind of relieved. I didn’t see him when I flew back home. He’d called, told me what was up, and that was that.
The club’s grand opening was the next Saturday, so I figured it was best to fly back as soon as possible. Vin was right. I had nothing to do here. Nothing to keep me from going.
Mrs. Harris had practically everything covered for the wedding. She’d call for opinions or if she had a question, but she told me to consider things handled. I gave her a few basics of what I wanted and she went with it, hired a wedding planner, and it’s been easy sailing ever since.
I’d never wanted a huge wedding—or a wedding at all, for that matter. I had hoped it wasn’t so obvious that I didn’t care much about the details of the wedding. I mean, having to walk down an aisle and be stared at by people I hardly knew was enough to give me hives.
Other than shopping for the perfect dress, it’d been nothing but stressful.
I boarded a flight back to California on Friday morning, deciding to stay at Mom’s apartment for the next three days. She was looking a lot better, but still very sick. She’d even cooked for me, but didn’t eat much herself. I didn’t comment on it. I knew she’d eat when she felt like she could.
I guess that was one trait I got from her. Never letting myself get too low, to the point of giving up. I always worked harder for more. She’d never given up on me, or even Luke for that matter . . . but he was a topic for another time.
Vin told me I could come to the club after five since they had some electrical work that needed finishing up, so I went to the craft store a few hours after landing and bought supplies.
I was in paradise. Never had I felt so relaxed. I shopped for brushes and paints, and even went to a thrift store to buy cheap clothes I could dirty up real good.
When five o’ clock hit, I was driving to Club 7-1-9. I still couldn’t believe he’d named it that. Every time I thought about it, I thought about us and the very first time we met. The first time we met wasn’t easy to forget.
I saw him sitting there, lost in thought. By himself. Drinking and smoking his life away. By that alone, I should have known he wasn’t the cleanest soul and that he had deep-rooted issues, but like the fool I am, I yearned for more . . . and he handed his heart right to me.
Vin was already standing outside the club when I parked at the curb. He had a cigarette pinched between his lips, his cellphone pressed to his ear. I stepped out and walked to the trunk, taking out the supplies I could carry.
“Okay. Look, I have to go.” He hung up the phone and then tucked it in his back pocket. After pulling the cigarette from between his lips and putting it out, he came to help me. “I got it,” he sighed.
I l
ooked sideways at him. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. For the most part.” He didn’t meet my eyes. I knew something was wrong. I wasn’t sure whether to ask about it or not. It wasn’t any of my business. “It was Becks,” he said, slamming the trunk closed.
“Oh? What’d she want?” I walked by his side, towards the entrance.
“She wants me back Tuesday to get fitted for a tux. Said Lloyd really wants to get it over with.” He gave his eyes a slight roll. “He isn’t the only one who wants to get this shit over with, trust me.”
“Oh.” I pressed my lips and pulled my gaze away. I had nothing to say, really. I didn’t want to talk about the wedding, and I knew he hated even the mere thought of it, so I decided to change the subject. “So, I was thinking maybe I could make something cool, like a vintage tunnel with bricks that look sort of like the ones this building is made of, or maybe the actual building with stars surrounding it to give it a softer look.”
He grunted as he dropped my things in front of the blank wall. He then stood up straight, dusting his hands off and meeting my eyes. “Which do you think fits more?”
I took a small look around, exhaling. “I think the building and the stars.”
He put on a soft smile. “Then the building and stars it is, Bob Marley.” He flipped his wrist to check his watch. “I have some paperwork to handle, but you can go ahead and get started. Feel free to use the sinks, run the water—do whatever you need to do, just make it look good.”
I nodded, huffing a laugh. “I’ll do my best.”
He bobbed his head at me and then walked away, disappearing behind the bar and through a black door with the words STAFF ONLY on it.
Something was up with him. I felt like it was much more than just getting fitted for a tux. He knew he would have to be back soon for that. Why would that make him upset?
I blew a heavy breath and looked up at the blank wall again, planting my hands on my hips. I guess it was best to get started now. I wouldn’t be able to paint creatively tonight. I had to prime the wall first and let it dry.
I picked up a can and opened it, then went for the bag with the paintbrushes. As I walked towards the bathroom, I heard a door shut and then a brunette came walking across the dance floor with a folder in hand.
She wore a brown dress with brown heels, the outfit really showing off her tanned legs. Her hair was tucked back by a brown, polka-dotted headband, making her appear more like a schoolgirl than an actual adult.
Her lips were glossed, puckered. She was pretty, though I hated to admit it.
She went straight for the STAFF ONLY door and walked right in. “Vin, baby!” I heard her sing, and then the door shut behind her.
I froze for a second, staring at it. There was a small, square window to the right, but the blinds were shut. I couldn’t see a thing.
“Wow,” I breathed, shaking my head. So that must have been why he was acting weird and in such a rush. He had a girl coming. Wow.
I refused to let it bother me. Instead, I continued my walk to the bathroom and cleaned the brushes, taking a glance at myself in the mirror. I’d taken time to put on eyeliner and lipstick. I had even gotten my hair styled before flying back.
Did he notice?
Shit, what did I care?
I walked back to the blank wall and took out some newspaper, laying it out on the floor. After that, I poured some paint into the roller tray and then grabbed the paint roller, dipping it in and starting an immediate roll on the wall, getting straight to work.
I couldn’t help but take peeks toward the door behind the bar. It was quiet. What the hell were they doing in there?
An hour passed before the door finally swung open, and Vin walked out, stretching his arms in the air with a wide yawn. I noticed his pants were a little lower on his hips. He seemed much more relaxed now than he was when I first arrived. The brunette came out behind him, fluffing her hair.
His gaze darted over to mine but I looked away quickly, finishing the last coat of primer.
“Make sure you get those flyers to me by tomorrow, Bethany,” Vin said to her in a cool voice. “We want to start handing them out. Get the word going.”
“Okay. They should be here in the morning. I’ll drop them off first thing.” Her voice was really high-pitched.
He nodded, and she smiled at him, so hard I thought her face would break. She liked him . . . a lot. I could see the admiration in her eyes. She wanted him . . . but had she already had him?
My throat bobbed as I swallowed the frustration, focusing on the wall again. It didn’t matter. I didn’t care. It was none of my business . . .
That’s what I told myself, anyway.
“Who’s the chick painting the wall?” Bethany asked. “And what is she wearing? Oh my gosh,” she snickered.
I clenched my jaw, dropping my paint roller.
“That’s Marley, an old friend. She’s painting the wall for us. Hey—Marley!” Vin called from behind the bar. I looked over and he waved a hand. “This is Bethany, the club assistant. She handles all the small tasks and online shit.” He winked at her. I avoided a scowl.
“Oh. Cool!” I shouted back, fixing my eyes on hers. She was hardly paying attention to me. She was too busy staring at the blank wall like she’d never seen it before.
“Are you paying her to do this?” I heard her whisper when I turned my back to them.
“Is that any of your business?” His tone was confident. Bold. Good.
“No . . . I guess not. But you know we have a budget. We shouldn’t waste it on paintings and wannabe artists, you know?”
“Shit, Bethany. I didn’t realize you were my accountant now, too.”
“I’m just saying,” she laughed, and I heard her heels clicking as she started walking away. “If you are, I hope it’s a cheap job.”
“Yeah, whatever. Just worry about your job and make sure those flyers are here in the morning.”
“Sure thing . . . boss. Oh—I have a few orders for you. I’ll have Pablo bring them in.” I heard the grin in her voice, and I wanted to vomit. Instead, I rolled my eyes, picking up my cellphone to check for messages or calls. I had none, which really wasn’t a surprise.
She was out the door before I knew it, and then there were footsteps coming my way. “You didn’t get much done.” His deep voice rose, making my gut clench.
I turned to look at him. “I had to prime the wall first. It was a little too dingy to work on.”
“Hmm.”
I tucked my phone into the back pocket of my jean overalls. “I should probably go and come back in the morning. The wall will take a few hours to dry, and it seems like you have things to do anyway.”
“I don’t have shit to do but stand here and watch you,” he said.
“Yeah. Whatever,” I laughed softly. “You have your little girlfriend, Bethany there, to tend to.”
He smirked like the asshole he was. “She’s not my girlfriend. I would never make a girl like her mine.”
“A girl like her?” I planted a hand on my hip.
“A girl who talks too much, thinks she knows everything, and dresses like a slutty high school chick.”
I laughed at that, rolling my eyes. “Yeah. Okay. You’re only saying that because I’m here. I see the way she looks at you.”
He was quiet for a moment, his eyes sweeping up and down my frame. “Oh, shit. I see what’s happening here. I’ve seen this look one too many times before. You’re jealous,” he declared.
“Far from it, actually.” I turned to pick up my satchel. “You don’t mind if I leave my materials here until the morning, do you?”
“Nah, don’t try and change the subject,” he laughed. “Tell me, is my little Marley getting jealous on me again? Because I can fix that in a heartbeat.”
I narrowed my eyes, knowing damn well I shouldn’t have asked my next question. “How?”
He stepped closer, eyes growing softer, more heated. “Should I remind you? You know, of the thin
gs I used to do to you when you’d have a fit or throw a tantrum when you couldn’t have your way with me? Do you want me to prove that you’re the only girl I will ever want?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied, taking a small step away. It was hardly a step. More like a scoot sideways.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Marlena. Don’t play these games with me. It wasn’t that long ago.” He closed the gap between us, lifting his hand to grab my chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting his head down, he brushed the tip of his nose across my cheek, turning my face sideways. My breathing hitched as he ran the tip of his nose down, toward the bend of my neck. He inhaled lightly with a small groan, and my belly fluttered.
He brought his nose back up, his lips meeting the hollow of my ear, and my sex clenched with the words he said next: “There’s no reason to ever be jealous, baby. I’m yours. Only yours. Always will be.”
He pulled back, and when I looked up, his tongue ran over his full, rosy bottom lip. A smile twitched at his mouth, those brown eyes smoldering.
“Did you just do something with her in there?” I asked, voice low.
He grinned so wide I thought his face would break. “I didn’t do anything with her but sign a few papers.”
Oh. I started to speak, but really I had nothing to say.
A throat cleared behind Vin, and he peered over his shoulder. I looked with him, spotting Bethany standing by the bar, Pablo behind her with crates of alcohol. Pablo didn’t really seem to give a damn. His face was blank and tired, but hers? Oh, it was priceless. Sullen and so damn serious.
She almost looked . . . heartbroken. It was kind of sad, really. I stepped away then, adjusting the strap of my bag. “You have things to do. I should get out of here.”
I started to walk around him, but he caught my elbow, twisting me around lightly. I bumped into his chest, but he steadied me. His scent filled my lungs, eyes connecting with mine again. I pulled back before I could sink into his arms—the arms that were once my shelter. My protectors.
“You’ll be back in the morning?”
“Yes.” I smiled softly. “First thing.”
100 PROOF Page 15