“Sorry,” I apologize to Mrs. James. “So is it yours?”
“He,” Harrison corrects me and it takes me a minute to realize that the baby is a boy.
“He.” I nod. I can do this with Harrison. I can play along. “Is he yours?”
Harrison reaches out and touches the baby’s foot, wiggling it back and forth. I lean forward, wanting to see his reaction. There’s a light in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. Harrison admires the baby in front of him and the reaction he gets. The baby squeaks causing Harrison to smile. I’ve never even held a baby, let alone looked at one up close. He’s tiny and all arms and legs. He doesn’t have much hair and his head is cone shaped. It sort of reminds me of that Conehead movie that Dan Akroyd made back in the 80’s. I just want him to say the baby is his so my heart can stop pounding. If he tells me this is Sam’s baby I think I might jump off a cliff. I’m not ready to be a father.
“Mom says he looks like me, but I don’t know. I don’t remember the girl or the night.”
“So she just showed up?”
He nods and the baby starts to fuss. I sit back, waiting for Mrs. James to come running, but she doesn’t. Harrison picks up the baby and holds him to his chest. My mouth drops open in amazement as his little baby turns his head into Harrison neck. I feel like I’m invading his privacy by watching, but I can’t help it. I wanted this at one time, with my girl. It’s hard to admit that now, that I knowingly had sex with her without using a condom, but I did. I was desperate to stay. I wanted her to tell me to stay and if she had, I would’ve. I turn away when Harrison leans down and kisses this little boy… his son on the head. It’s too personal and I don’t deserve to be a part of it.
“I answered the door and thought, wow what a hot little surprise for me. She had a sweet ass body, but she was carrying the car seat I was confused from the get-go, but I let her in. She told me that we met at a show and she was backstage. She said we went to the bar and she bought me a drink. Thing is, now that I’ve been thinking about it, I vaguely remember someone spending the night, but I couldn’t tell you who and she’s someone I would’ve remembered. And now this little guy is here. It’s been three days and she hasn’t come back yet.”
“I can’t even think of a show we did nine months ago.”
“Alicia – that’s her name – she said it was ten months ago, but I don’t know. I’ll have to get a blood test and all that shit.”
I think back to ten-months ago and come up blank. That time in my life is buried deep because I want to forget everything.
“So what are you going to do?”
Harrison bends his knees and places the baby on his lap. He touches every part of him that’s not covered with clothes. Part of me wants to hold him, but he’s so tiny and fragile, I’m afraid I’d break him. Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do, but Harrison does. He seems like a natural. His mom must be a miracle worker if he’s already that comfortable.
“I’m going to keep him until I know for sure. Mom says he’s mine. She can feel it. I need to be straight with you. If you’re not into this whole band thing anymore, I get it, but I have to be serious, especially if this little guy is mine. I watched my mom struggle with raising Yvie and me and I won’t do that if I can help it. My apartment is a shit-hole, I have a crack dealer living next door to me and my car is a piece of shit. I need to provide better for my son. So you and I are going to either get our asses into the studio now and make something of ourselves, or I need to find another gig.”
I’m a bit taken aback by his words, but he’s right and I couldn’t agree more. I came to L.A. to make something of myself and as of now I haven’t done jack shit. It’s time to piss or get off the pot. “Does he have a name?”
“I’m calling him Quinn.”
I nod. “I like that, Quinn James, rocker in the making.”
Harrison laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t care what he does as long as he’s happy.” And yours I want to add.
Mrs. James appears with a bottle in her hand and it’s like Quinn already knows. He fusses a little bit, but Harrison is on it. I marvel at how attentive he is, especially with not knowing if the baby is his or not. Harrison holds him up and kisses him on the nose before handing him to his mom. The look on her face, when she holds him, is priceless. I take my phone out and snap a picture. It’s a memory that I want to keep and maybe someday look back at it and think of what my grandma would’ve looked like if she had held me in her arms.
“You boys go on, little Quinn and I are going to have some lunch and take a nap before Auntie Yvie comes over to play.” Mrs. James sits down, holding Quinn in her arms. There’s an ache in my heart knowing that my grandmother and even my mother will never have a moment like this.
“Mrs. James, can I hold him before you stick that thing in his mouth?”
She looks up with nothing but pure elation on her face, nodding. I sit down next to her and wait.
“Hold your arms like this.” Harrison demonstrates the proper way to hold a baby.
“Dude,” I say, laughing. He shrugs, clearly loving what’s happened to him in these past few days.
Quinn is placed in my arms and the first thing I notice is how light he is. He’s also warm and squirmy. He makes these little sounds each time he moves and I’m assuming that’s okay otherwise either his dad or grandma would take him from me.
“Hi, Quinn,” I say softly, wondering if he can hear me. I reach out and touch his little hand, only to have him grab a hold of my finger.
“Such a sweet boy,” Mrs. James coos as she rubs his head.
I’ve been in love before, but what I’m feeling now is completely different. Quinn is bringing something out in me that I didn’t know existed. I know he’s not mine, but I don’t want to let him down.
“I think Harrison and I need to get to work, Mrs. James.” I reluctantly let him go. As soon as he’s out of my arms I realize that I’ll be a staple in this household because this little boy just gave me something to work for.
Chapter 43
Three Years since Beaumont
“Are you ready?”
I look up from my notepad to find Sam standing in front of me. Her toe is tapping impatiently on the floor and her hands are perched on her hips. It’s seven a.m. and I’m still in the studio from last night or maybe it’s the night before. I’ve lost track. It’s been a year since I asked Sam to find us a new label. She promised me it would happen, but yet here we are with a full album and no producer. We have enough new songs to make another one, but no one wants us.
We almost cut Sam loose but in the end decided to sign with her again. If all else fails, we can make the record with Moreno Entertainment, but it’s not what we want to do. If someone told me that it’d take this long to get a decent label, I would’ve laughed. I had such high expectations when I first signed and now I’m just spending night and day in the studio, writing.
I look at Sam questioningly. This is her new game: Cat and mouse, the Sam version. She asks a question and waits painstakingly long to continue, or until I cave and speak to her. I’ve learned that speaking to her too much gets me in trouble, so I try to keep my mouth shut as much as possible. If I phrase something wrong, or if there’s a slight hint that I might want to see her later, she’s like a cougar ready to pounce.
I can’t go there again. I care for her, I do, but I care for my sanity more. I had to leave town to escape her and get healthy, and my fear is that she’ll drag me back down again. She the puppet-master to my vices and knows how to pull my strings to get me to cave. I haven’t had a cigarette in years, but she makes me want to inhale an entire pack just to calm my nerves. I prefer the mellowness of my apartment and my cat. How I ever ended up with him, I’ll never know. He was sitting in a box, shivering. It was raining and I was running down the street. Why I stopped to look still baffles me, but I did and I brought him home. He doesn’t have a name though. I thought long and hard but couldn’t come with anything that I thought fit him s
o I stuck with Cat. I thought he’d be a good companion, but he hisses anytime I go near him. He’s a good cat though. He loves Quinn and lets him pull on his tail and ears and never scratches him. It’s just me that he hates.
“How long have you been here?”
I glance at the clock on the wall and shrug. I don’t even pretend to know what day it is. She steps forward and that’s when I get a strong whiff of what she’s wearing. My leg starts to jerk and I’m biting the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. I’ve never smelled this perfume on her before and it can’t be that popular, so why is she wearing it? Why does she smell like her all of a sudden? Never have I had reason to compare them. That’s why Sam is so easy for me to be with and dismiss. She’s the opposite of everything I want, everything that I had with my girl. I don’t care how many years it’s been; to me it feels like yesterday. To this day I still have her hate filled voicemail that I listen to when I need to remind myself why I’m here. I can still see her eyes when I’m telling her that I can’t be with her. I was a coward that night. I still am a coward. So many times I could’ve gone back and told her everything. I could’ve answered any one of her calls, but the thought of letting her down, the thought of her being so disappointed in me, broke me.
I know what I did was wrong and someday I’ll make it up to her. I don’t know how or when that will be, but it will happen. I’m still a nobody. I’m still the young kid that sat on a stool hoping that a bar owner would like him enough for that coveted nighttime spot. I wasn’t even good enough for that, yet here I am pouring my heart out on a piece of paper because it doesn’t talk back. It can’t look at me with disgust and I can’t hear the disdain in its voice telling me how much of a loser I am. The paper doesn’t mock me, it absorbs what I’m telling it, what I’m feeding it.
Sam stands in front me, her expression one of contempt. Does she know what she’s doing to me? She can’t know. I’ve kept everything a secret and never gave any hint or inclination as to what awaits me in another town. I stand and move the other side of the room. My breathing is sporadic, coming in short spurts. This whole time I’ve done everything I could to protect my girl and now, somehow after years, Sam’s wearing CKOne. Everything about this moment feels wrong and I hate it.
“What do you want, Sam?”
She stalks toward me. I have a feeling she knows and she’s doing this on purpose. The question is how does she know about her and what am I going to do about it? Do I pretend she’s not invading my senses to the point where I want to grab her… and kiss her, or does she think I’m acting like the typical dick that I am? I hope it’s the latter. If she’s having those thoughts, my life is easier.
“I don’t get you, Liam. Sometimes you want to be near me and other times you act like I’m carrying a disease.”
You are, I want to blurt out. The ‘let’s try to kill Liam slowly’ disease.
“What do you want, Sam?” I ask again. Her eyes brighten and I realize my mistake. I should know, no open ended questions.
“Well since you’re asking. We’re good together. I don’t know why you insist on fighting it.”
My head shakes slowly. I pinch the bridge of my nose and wish she would disappear. I sense her closeness before she touches my arm.
“But we can discuss that later. Right now, I want you to get the guys together and meet me at Capitol, they’re making an offer.”
I drop my hand and gaze at her. My eyes bore into hers. She’s telling the truth. I can see it in her features.
“What time?”
“Half past ten. Don’t be late.” She turns and purposely sways her hips, showing off her ass because she knows I’m an ass man. “Liam, you can thank me later.”
As soon as the door closes I want to scream out in joy, but instead I bang my head against the wall. If this deal hinges on me being with her, I’ll take one for the team. I’ll hate it, but they guys deserve it more than anything.
Harrison, JD and I sit in the reception area of Capitol Records. When we arrived, I stood outside and stared up at the iconic building. The very same building that I could see from my grandma’s yard and now here I am. I’m about to sell my songs to them and in return they’re going to put their label next to my name.
Harrison and I are nervous, but not JD. He’s used to this. JD, or Jimmy as he’s named, came to us after answering an ad. We started jamming as a three-piece and he never left. He started as the bassist, but is a man of many talents, much like Way. One of the first songs we recorded with him was the song I wrote for my girl back in high school. It was one of the EP’s Harrison and I released early on, but adding JD’s piano mix to it gave it a whole new sound. I don’t know if a producer will want to run with it again, but if they don’t we have plenty of others to offer.
“If you’re ready, I’ll take you through now.” I gawk at the very tall female standing in front of us. Of course, her heels make her six inches taller than she truly is. Her hair is the Hollywood blond, platinum and styled perfectly, but her face is fair with little make-up. I eye her up and down, causing her blush and believe me I’m enjoying the reaction I’m getting. She turns on her heel and I’m the first one to step in behind her. Her ass is the perfect shape and her skirt is tight enough to show just how round and firm it is.
She stops and holds a door open for us. My arm purposely brushes against her tits. She coyly bites her lip probably hoping I won’t notice, but I do. It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone, but after this morning with Sam and her perfume, I need to find a release and this one just might be it.
We sit down at the long conference table. Anthony and Sam sit across from us and at the end are the Capitol executives. These men are going to either make or break us. I’m praying that I walk out of here a happy man. If not, I need to seriously consider going back to Beaumont, but I don’t know what I’d do there. I have nothing to offer anyone.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen. We’ve just spent the last hour going over everything with your agent and manager and we’re happy to make an offer.”
Papers are slid toward us, each of us grabbing our own set. The words blur on the page after I read “five record deal”. Nothing else is making sense. This is what I’ve been working for. This is why I came here.
“Holy shit,” Harrison exclaims quietly as he turns the page. I follow suit and agree. We have creative freedom. Sam stays as manager, Anthony as our lead agent. And the money, it’s there. Harrison will be able to move out of his apartment and get Quinn a nice place. He’ll be able to help pay for Yvie’s ballet school and JD will be able to marry his girl, Chelsea. But most importantly someone likes my lyrics enough to want to buy them, and that right there is enough for me.
“Where do we sign?”
A collective sigh emanates throughout the room. Anthony claps and Sam pats him on the back. He can’t take all the credit though; Sam does a lot of the legwork. She may only be a manager, but she also doubles as our agent more often than not.
Pens are passed around and the final contract is placed in front of me. I sign my name willingly. Harrison is next and JD goes last. When JD came to us, he just wanted a place to play, didn’t care about anything else. His father is James Davis, a musician who’s been around for a while and his grandfather tells me that he played with mine. I took the old man for his word, not really interested in going through my grandma’s stuff to find out.
I never did get to sit down with her and talk about my mom and grandpa. I never found the time and always said I’d do it tomorrow. Thing is, tomorrow never came. I’m not sad about not knowing about him. I can’t go through my life regretting my decisions. Had I stayed in Beaumont, I would’ve known my grandma and she would’ve died alone in that big ole house on the hill. If I stayed, I’d be a mill-worker or a mailman and we’d probably have three kids and be heading for a divorce. I wouldn’t have been happy.
All the work, the blood, sweat and tears, the late nights and epic frustrations has all come down t
o this. The contract is sent back down to the other end of the table where it’s signed. The sexy little thing that helped us out earlier comes in and I get an eyeful of what she’s offering.
“Tonight, we celebrate,” Anthony says as he stands, placing his fedora on his head. For a man who has as much money as he does, you’d think he would take better care of himself, but no. He’s pudgy and is often caught rubbing his rounded belly.
Yes, I will be celebrating and I think it’s going to be with the hottie out in the hall.
“Do you want to know my name?” she asks as my lips attack her neck. I push her up against the stall in the bathroom, ripping her nylons away from her body.
“No,” I breathe out. The last thing I want is her name. I don’t care. I just need her to scratch the itch and move on. No phone numbers will be exchanged and no, we won’t be going back to my place to cuddle. I need a quick and dirty fuck – that’s what this is.
I release my cock from the confines of my slacks, not even bothering to undo my belt or the button, zipper only. I fumble with the condom while trying to hold her. For as hot as she is, she’s a fish and just waiting for me to do everything. I move her panties slightly and plunge into her. I swallow her scream with my mouth, keeping my lips pressed to hers while pound into her. Her nails dig into the back of my neck. The pain is a welcome feeling. I want it. Crave it.
As I work her into a frenzy, her head falling back. She looks at me, her eyes hooded. She runs her fingers through my hair and I want to tell her to knock that shit off – it’s too personal – but I’m too focused on getting her off so I can come.
Her head falls forward again and her breathing picks up. Her body starts to react. I reach through our tangled bodies and find her swollen clit waiting to be stroked. I apply enough pressure to cause her to get a little wild. As much as any man enjoys sex, they’re usually hoping their partner is into it and she’s not.
Her walls start to squeeze me and I thrust harder, deeper until I’m spent. I pull her off of me and dispose of the condom. This was a mistake, yet another one to add to my long list of dumb things I’ve done. Once I’m tucked back in I open the stall door and head right to the sink to wash up. I have lipstick on my neck that needs to come off. I wash up, making sure there’s nothing on the front of my pants.
Finding My Way Page 24