Bay put her head to one side. ‘Where’d you go? I was saying we’ll have to postpone our studio time until I get the business stuff sorted. Then I’ll be unemployed and all yours.’
If only. But he nodded, smiling.
‘No problem. You have my number and I’ll check in on you and the others periodically.’ I’ll try and stop myself from calling you as soon as you’re out of my sight.
She smiled, gratefully. ‘Thanks. Listen, I have to go, grab some sleep before the bike shop opens. It’s really good to meet you.’
She held out her hand and he took it, her skin silky under his. They gazed at each for a long moment. What was a handshake turned into just holding her hand, he realized, and reluctantly he let it go.
‘I’m really excited about this, Bay. I think the band – and you – could really go a long way.’
‘You do?’
‘I do.’
She grinned and although he through she was fatigued from the late night, he thought he also saw in her, a deep tiredness, an ache, a sadness and knew, if he could, that he would try to erase whatever made this beautiful young woman so sad.
For now, he kissed her cheek and watched as she drove off in the direction of the waterfront. He walked around the old red building that had evolved from a silent movie theater to now, one of Seattle’s foremost venues. Under the Paramount’s sign, now in darkness, the board read ‘Seattle’s Most Popular Cover’s Band – The 9th & Pine! Every Second and Fourth Friday of the Month! Book Early to Avoid Disappointment!’
Tomas Meir smiled to himself as he began to walk back to his hotel. Before he was finished, the 9th& Pine would be more than just a local covers band, they’d be the biggest band in the country. Tom told himself that this was what he had been looking for his whole career, an opportunity to nurture raw talent, build a songwriting partnership that would bring quality, resonance back into the music world.
And it had nothing to do with the warm violet eyes, the pink rosebud mouth and the soft curves that would haunt his dreams from that night onward.
Nope, nothing at all…
***
Bay told herself she was only a little disappointed when the text wasn’t from Tom. Just a little. She hissed in frustration when she read the message. Stu was hounding her – again.
We need to exploit the momentum, Bay, we need to sign NOW.
It was his fourth text of the morning. Bay moaned and turned over in bed, burying her face in the pillow. She was already late opening the shop but she figured – what was the point anyways? She was closing the doors at the end of the week; her loyal but sorrowful customer base simply couldn’t drum up enough business for her. She was losing money keeping it open as more or less a meeting place for her customers who would come in, take advantage of her mini fridge and coffee machine, and reminisce about the time they rode from Tacoma to Tennessee. Bay didn’t mind; in fact, she loved them all, the huge dudes who loved their Harleys and had loved her uncle. Uncle Prakash had come to this country from his native India in the seventies along with his sister – Bay’s mother. When she had died when Bay was five, he’d taken her two kids in – Bay and her elder brother Ravi – and loved and cared for them as if they were his own. Their American-born biological father was long gone and so the three of them lived and worked together. When Bay had shown true musical talent, Prakash had insisted on paying her college tuition.
Bay forced herself to roll out of bed and into the shower. If only Uncle Prakash hadn’t gotten sick…She’d been at the top of her class, her career as a classical pianist set. Now as she dressed, she couldn’t imagine leading that life, recitals, and performances in huge quiet halls. She loved the roar of the crowd, the way they would sing along with her, the way they moved as one, like a seething sea of limbs and bodies to the rhythm of whatever song they were doing – a rocked out version of a pop song or vice versa. God, she loved it – and now she was getting the chance to write songs of her own…with Tomas, she thought with a thrill. Ha, she told herself, yeah right. Like you’ll ever let anyone that close again. The thought depressed her and as she soaped her body, she allowed her hand drift between her legs and stroked, thinking of Tom, how that mouth would feel against hers, his big hands on her body, his cock thrusting into her. She shivered through an orgasm before finally shutting the water off and drying herself. How long had it been since she’d slept with someone? She thought about it then shook her head.
‘If you’re obsessing over it, Tambe,’ she said out loud to herself, ‘It’s officially too long. You are Seattle’s answer to Miss Havisham.’
The thought made her grin and she was still grinning when she opened the shop, later than usual. Three of her regulars were sitting outside waiting for her, gently teasing her for being late.
‘Hey now, leave her alone – maybe the little Missy finally saw some action last night,’ Jed, a massive biker with a beard as long as he was, winked at her.
Bay giggled, flushing furiously. ‘Now you know you’re the only man for me, Jed.’
‘Damn straight,’ he patted on her the back as she let them in. Bay listened to him talking to the other guys, Goober and Stevo while she put the coffee pot on and raised the shades. There were only a couple of Harley’s left now; if she didn’t sell them, she’d have to part with them to a buyer who’d offer her way under market value for them. She was tempted to keep one of them, a beautiful vintage Harley that had been her uncle’s back in the day – but she’d never even sat on a bike – what would be the point?
The rest of the store was looking decidedly barren – she’d slashed the prices to half price on spares, tools, and other kit and it had been swept up by bike enthusiasts – where had they been when she need to keep the business open? She sighed now. If she was honest, this was a relief. She needed to move on, get out. Her thoughts drifted back to the previous evening. She was excited in a way she hadn’t been for years – a real chance at a musical career…she could barely believe it. She had thought that life lost to her but now…
‘Hey, Missy, you want some coffee?’
Bay smiled at Stevo, who was brandishing the coffee pot. ‘Sure thing, thanks. Now,’ she went to sit with her friends, ‘how’re we going to celebrate our last week?’
***
Kym Clayton tugged her long blonde hair up into a ponytail as she waited for Stu. They were meeting her parents for lunch and so, as always, Stu was prevaricating. Kym sighed. She knew her parents, her friends, everybody, really, couldn’t stand Stu and she understood why. He was vain, deceitful and manipulative, a man who couldn’t quite understand that his faded pretty boy looks couldn’t get him whatever he wanted anymore.
Yeah, she got it. Trouble was, at night, when they were alone, he was totally different. Vulnerable, loving…and knew exactly what to say to make her feel like the most wonderful person who’d ever lived. Kym told herself this was the real Stu, that the other was just bluster and hyperbole…except for one thing.
He frightened her. When he went off – and that was often – his aggression was always aimed at her even if she’d done nothing. His apologies were lavish and over-the-top, begging her for forgiveness.
What the hell are you doing with him? Kym asked herself that question often but she knew the answer. She loved him. When he came to her, crumbling with guilt for his behavior, she would cradle his head against her chest and soothe him. His arms would go around her then and they would invariably end up in bed.
‘Hey, we going or what?’
She started as Stu stood in the doorway. He looked nervous – he always did when he met her parents. Kym nodded and picked up her bag.
At the restaurant, her mom stood and waved maniacally as they came through the door. Kym grinned as the other dinners at first looked up in annoyance – then awe as they realized who they were looking at. Charlie ‘Muse’ Clayton, a rock star for the better part of forty years, hugged her daughter tightly. Kym’s dad, Mac, tall and silent, his dark blonde hair pulled back i
nto a long ponytail, shook Stu’s hand, dropping it quickly. Charlie’s dark gold eyes sparkled as she looked over her daughter, dressed in regulation jeans and AC/DC t-shirt.
‘You look gorgeous, honey. Gosh, I missed you – when are you going to bring my daughter back to Nashville, Stuart?’
Kym watched as Stu reddened under her mother’s gaze. Very few men – or women – were immune to Charlie’s innate magnetism. Certainly not Stu, who took a sip of his soda before answering.
‘Anytime she wants, Charlie. We’ve just been busy with the band.’
Mac snorted slightly and Charlie flashed him a look. ‘I bet…hey, we drove past the Paramount on the way here. My little girl’s band up on the marquee there…I was a proud mama.’
Kym knew her mother meant well, it was just…she always manages to make it sound as if they were just ‘playing’ at being a band. Kym kicked Stu under the table.
‘Actually, we have some news. A record company is interested in developing us.’
Stu nodded. ‘A big one too. Quartet records.’
‘Wow.’ Charlie looked impressed but Mac Clayton harrumphed.
‘What the hell is ‘development’? You write a song, you record it, it gets on the radio, people buy it. The fuck does ‘they’re developing us’ mean?’
Kym felt the choking numbness creep into her chest; the familiar humiliation that being the lesser talented daughter of two rock gods had always engendered in her. She drew in a breath, hoping Stu would defend her but he sat there, flushed with anger himself. He wouldn’t stand up to her dad, he never had.
‘It means exactly that, Dad. We’re going to be writing our own songs – ‘
‘’We?’ You mean Bay is.’
This time, tears did spring up in her eyes and she looked away and was silent. Every fucking time.
‘Yeah, dad,’ she said, anger rippling in her voice, ‘You don’t have to remind me. Bay is the talented one.’
Mac drained his scotch. ‘Did I say that? Hey, Charlie, did I say that?’
Her mother sighed and Kym realized how tired she looked. ‘Let’s change the subject, anyway.’
Kym’s shoulders slumped. For once, choose me. Defend me, mom. She shifted in her seat and felt Stu’s hand curl around hers.
‘It’s a pretty big deal,’ he said to her parents. ‘Once they all get done writing an album’s worth of songs, there’ll be a showcase for the record company. Then a single, a video…’
Kym, surprised, smiled gratefully at her boyfriend. This, this was why she kept trying with him – these small moments when he was selfless, when he protected her. He knew it bugged her that Bay’s talent was inherent whereas she, Kym, had to work to be as good. Not that she blamed Bay – she loved Bay more than anyone in the world and Bay would be horrified if she knew what Kym felt about her own ability.
After lunch, she kissed her parents goodbye and almost laughed with relief as they waved them off. Stu kissed her temple.
‘You know what? I know they’re your parents but…’
‘They’re kind of assholes,’ she finished and sighed. ‘Yep.’ Stu’s arms tightened around her.
‘Let’s go home.’
As Stu drove, she texted Bay. Just had lunch with the Olds.
A second later. God, I’m sorry. Did you wear your Hazmat suit?
Kym grinned. Bay knew what her parents were like – she was the only one who could get away with calling them out to their faces when they put Kym down. Her phone buzzed again.
Can you ask Stu to stop harassing me? He keeps on about the record deal, it’s annoying.
Kym frowned and looked at her boyfriend. ‘Why are you texting Bay?’
Stu shrugged. ‘She seems to be the one holding up this deal. As always, it’s all about her.’
Kym sighed. Stu always rubbed Bay up the wrong way and Kym suspected it was because, secretly, Stu had a thing for her gorgeous best friend. Bay, on the other hand, thought Stu was a douche bag. She’s not wrong. Kym pushed the thought away. Stu enjoyed messing with Bay’s head as a punishment for not wanting him back but lately their antagonism had been reaching mythic levels. More than once she had to step between them before Stu got physical with Bay. As fiery as Bay could be, she was tiny and Stu could hurt her if they got into it.
She must have sighed because Stu looked over at her. ‘She bugging you about me?’
‘No, it’s okay, just…ease up on Bay. For me?’
His lips were a thin line. ‘Tell her that. I got her a fucking Quartet meeting.’
That she never asked for, Kym wanted to say but didn’t. Stu hated it when she was ‘ungrateful’.
She stared out of the window of the car and wondered if Bay was really excited about the deal. She could tell, last night, that her friend had been left flustered by Tomas Meir’s obvious attraction to her. Kym smiled to herself. She could see, she really could see Bay and Tom together, and god, they would have seriously cute kids. Grinning, she texted Bay.
I don’t think you need to be worried about Stu, you seemed to be doing just fine last night with your new champion. Tom’s gorgeous, you should go for that.
She waited, knowing the reply she’d get before she read it. Sure enough, a moment later…
No idea what you’re talking about.
Ha. Kym snickered to herself. Maybe it was time her hermit-like best friend knew what it was to be in love. Kym glanced over at Stu and her good mood left her. Bay wasn’t the only one who desperately needed some real love in her life.
***
A roar of greeting went up as Pete, the 9th and Pine’s gigantic drummer, sauntered into Bay’s showroom. Pete was the one who had spread the word about Bay’s bike shop to his friends in both the bike community and the gay community and was the reason she’d been able to keep the shop open as long as she had. Bay hugged him now, as always his larger-than-life merry presence lifting her mood.
It was closing down day and she’d been affected by it more than she thought she would have been. The showroom had had a revolving door of visitors all day and now she was getting ready to close for good. Pete gave her a hug then studied her.
‘You okay, Bubba?’
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her throat was tightly closed and tears constantly threatened to spill over. Pete slung a sympathetic arm around her shoulders. ‘Come on, honey. New horizons – you get to be a rock star now.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Can you believe it? It doesn’t seem real yet.’
Pete shrugged, helping himself to coffee. ‘Real is real, bub. Tom been in touch?’
Bay grinned then. ‘We’ve talked.’ And how, she thought. It had begun the night after she met him with just a simple text message.
Hey, how’s things? Made up your mind yet? T x
She’d felt a teenager getting a text from her high school crush. She’d replied All good and yes, let’s do it. She sniggered to herself at the double meaning and flushed scarlet when the reply came back.
Sounds…promising.
The flirtation had continued over text until last night when suddenly Tom’s name flashed up on her call screen. Her heart went into overdrive, her breath quickened as she pressed accept.
‘Hey gorgeous,’ he’d said lightly, ‘I thought, seeing as I’m an old man and can only type one word an hour, I’d save us the trouble and call instead. How are you?’
His voice, so rich and warm, sent thrills through her body. ‘Hey yourself, I’m great, just building myself up for my last day tomorrow.’
He chuckled. ‘You’ll do great…it must feel strange, though.’
‘It does, kind of like my last link to my family.’
‘You really on your own?’
‘Really. I’ve got Kym and Pete of course, they’re like family, and the guys at the shop.’ She told him about her showroom’s de facto residents.
‘They sound like good guys.’
She smiled down the phone, ‘The best. Hey, where are you? I never thought to a
sk.’
Tom laughed softly. ‘L.A.’
She felt a pang of regret at him being so far away. ‘Hotshot,’ she teased, wanting to hear his laugh again, so deep, so melodic.
‘It’s just good for business. I kind of loathe having to be here. I’m a Seattle native, did you know that?’
She was surprised. ‘I had no idea.’
‘And now I have a great excuse to come back.’
‘You’re moving back?’
‘Yep. Seems only sensible to have a base there if we’re going to be together so much. Are you looking forward to Monday?’
God, yes. Bay pushed the thought of him in Seattle, so close, so near all the time to the back of her head. ‘I am. Nervous too.’
‘Don’t be. You were meant to do this, I just know it.’
Later, in bed, she’d Googled him. Tomas Meir, thirty-nine, Harvard Law graduate. Set up his own Entertainment Law label straight out of college. Briefly married in his late twenties. Known for being ruthless in the courtroom but a stand-up guy outside. Bay squinted at the pictures of him, so handsome, so elegant. He radiated power, presence; he could easily have passed for a Roman Empire with those sculpted features. Yum. She sighed. He seemed…too perfect. In her experience, that meant trouble.
She closed her laptop and lay back on the bed. Great, she told herself, in five minutes you met, fell in love and broken up with him. What is wrong with you?
She turned on her side and stared at the photo of Ravi on the nightstand. Her brother too had been gregarious, friendly, successful…seemingly had it all. Right up to the moment he’d deliberately driven his car, at top speed, into a wall. Bay winced; eighteen months later, the pain was still red raw. Only she knew the truth of Ravi’s death, his suicide, of the one line note he’d left for his sister. I can’t do it anymore, I’m sorry, I love you.
Quartet Complete Series: Billionaire Romance Box Set (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) Page 2