by Seven Steps
Maybe something deeper is going on?
Sighing, she shook the thought from her head and scribbled her name onto the top of the form.
Not my problem, she thought. In ten more days, I’ll be out of here and back in Greenwich. Let Noah LaRock worry about Dondo’s drug habits.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over her. A stack of bills wrapped in a red rubber band thumped down onto the table, covering her incident report.
“Hey.”
Cassie looked up into the bluest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. Those eyes captured her, drowning her in the sweetest of blue seas. Seas flecked with amber and jade. Seas that hid a black whirlpool in their core, that sucked her under until her she could see, hear, and touch nothing else but their agitated depths.
The Rock King was beautiful indeed. With short, spiky brown hair that hinted red under the light, a perfectly manicured five o’clock shadow, and a physique that could rival Olympic athletes, he took her breath away.
Yes, she’d watched him every night, but only from a distance in the crowded green room. To see him up close was something else entirely.
“Are you the nurse?”
She stuttered for the first time in years. “Uh, yes.”
“Hi, I’m Noah.” He extended a large, calloused hand to her.
The meaning of what he’d said slowly sank into her brain.
He doesn’t know who I am. The overwhelming urge to slap him rose sharp. How could my father work for him for sixteen years, and he doesn’t know who I am? She controlled the urge and shook his hand instead.
“I just wanted to thank you for helping Dondo,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that, and I’m sorry if it put you in a compromising position.”
“Don’t you mean an illegal position?” she asked.
“Yes, that too.”
Their hands hadn’t separated. He pulled his away first and stuffed it into his jeans pockets, though his eyes stayed on hers. He’d changed out of his leather pants and jacket and into jeans and a black t-shirt.
“Look,” he said, “if there’s anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable, I’ll be more than happy to accommodate you.” His eyes dropped to the wad of cash that covered her paper.
She followed his line of sight, cold fury rising within her chest. “Are you trying to bribe me, Mr. LaRock?”
His lips went up in a lazy smile that made her heart pound, melting her fury a bit. Irritated at her body’s reaction to him, she crossed her arms across her chest and allowed an incriminating glare to settle on her face.
He seemed unaffected by the daggers that shot from her eyes. “Yes,” he said. “I guess I am.”
“I don’t take bribes.”
“All right, then, what do you want? A picture? A song? A secret serenade?”
He put his finger to one ear and gazed deep into her eyes as he rung out the notes to one of his most famous ballads, Breathe Again.
“And when everything else is stripped away, love remains the same. When poor men look into heaven, they pray for love to take the pain away. When I’m without you, my world just melts away and I die another day. Come back to my arms, oh, baby, oh, baby, and let me breathe again tonight.”
Cassie held up a hand, though her heart beat wildly. “I think that I’m all set, thank you.”
Confusion and ire lit Noah’s face. “You don’t like the song?”
“What I don’t like is being accosted in my office with money and power ballads. And I especially don’t like your drug addict friends.” She swept a hand across the table, pushing the green stack onto the floor. She wished that the bills weren’t bundled together. It would have been more dramatic to see them fly.
He took a step back, didn’t move to pick up the cash. “You didn’t like my song?”
“Keep your song and your drug money. I don’t need them.”
“Don’t be stupid. Everyone needs my money.”
“Not me. Now take your lyrics and your bribes and go.”
She saw the white of his teeth flash.
“And here.” She snatched the baggie of cocaine out of her pocket and threw it at him. The small bag struck him in the chest, landing next to the money on the floor. “Take your filthy crack too!”
Body shaking, mouth tight, he picked up both the cash and the baggie, and glared at her.
His voice dropped to a growl. “You’re fired. And don’t even think about going to the press. You signed a non-disclosure agreement. If I hear one thing about Dondo, I’ll sue you back to wherever you came from.” With a final smirk of victory, he turned and sauntered back toward the green room. He’d only made it a few steps before she rushed from her doorway.
“You really don’t know who I am, do you?” she cried. “I should have known, you selfish, spoiled peacock!”
The floor squeaked as his boots slid to a stop. He turned back to her, his eyes narrow, his cheeks puffing with harsh breath.
“That’s it! When I get back to the room, I’m calling security to haul you out of here!”
“My father has worked for you for the last sixteen years. But I wouldn’t expect you to know who I am. Why would you? I’m not one of your groupies.”
His brows knit together in confusion. “What?”
“Walter Washington. My father. Your manager.”
Recognition lit his eyes. “Cassie?”
She pointed to the name tag on her jacket. “Yes! I’ve been working here, on your tour, for two months.” She threw her hands in the air. “Hello!”
He took her in then, his eyes scrutinizing her thick, kinky hair, freckle covered, tawny skin, her slim waist, shapely hips. “Cassie Washington?”
She smirked, grabbed her medical record book, her coat, and her purse from the office and locked it tight. “You know what? I wouldn’t expect you to know who I am. You just stole my father from me for half my life. Why would you know who I am? Why would you care?”
The anger drained from his face. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “He only has pictures of when you were a little girl. I didn’t know what you looked like.”
“Well, isn’t that unfortunate?” She deliberately pushed past him and half-walked, half-jogged toward the private parking garage.
Her blood was boiling when she whipped around to face him again. “You know, you have some nerve. My father chose you over us and you don’t even know who his family is. I’ve been your on-staff nurse for two months. I have treated your friends for every cut, bruise, and bang up they have.” She shook her head, hoping that her disappointment and anger shone as brightly on her face as it did in her heart. “But I guess all that doesn’t matter, huh?”
She pivoted and marched down the hallway and into the parking garage.
He didn’t follow.
Overhead lights cast an orange glow on the handful of vehicles that sat in the small lot. Parking garages always smelled like piss to her, and this one smelled no different. The smell and the punishing August heat only worsened her already foul mood. Finally finding her rental—a white Honda Civic—she jumped in. The car’s wheels squealed against the concrete floor as she sped off. Though transportation between states was taken care of, road crew and staff found their own way to the actual venues. Even Walter drove himself around most of the time.
How could he not know who I was? Cassie thought bitterly.
She remembered the day of her thirteenth birthday. Her father had been gone for five years by then. After her party, she wrote a letter to Noah, begging him to release her father from his contract and send him home. She never got a response.
Pulling into the VIP parking lot of the Marriott Hotel, she climbed out and handed the keys to the valet. She covered the floor of the lobby in several long strides before stepping into the elevator. Noah had rented out the entire top floor. She wondered if he knew that they were just two doors down from each other.
Obviously not, she thought. He didn’t even know I worked for him. Her irritation flared, then faltered. I wonder
if I’m really fired.
What she’d said to him earlier replayed in her mind. She thought she called him a selfish, spoiled peacock, but couldn’t be sure.
It doesn’t matter now, she reasoned. He knows who I am. He’ll probably send me on the first bus home. No one wants some bitter woman wreaking havoc on their tour.
She unlocked her room door with her key card, cursing her temper.
The room had two queen-size beds, each covered in white sheets and a red accent blanket. She slid her bare feet over the beige, soft carpet, and threw herself down onto the bed closest to the door. Her body sunk into the soft mattress. It nearly swallowed her before settling.
I wish I never came on this stupid tour.
She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and texted her mom.
Sorry I didn’t call today. Super busy. I’ll call tomorrow first thing. Love you. See you in ten days!
Her mother normally fell into a coma-like sleep around eleven o’clock. Cassie generally called her around six, right before her shift started, but today one of the backup dancers fell and broke her arm. They’d been in the hospital for hours.
She blew out a breath and thought of all of the things that had gone wrong today.
I didn’t talk to my mom. Noah doesn’t even know I exist, and then—
A knock on the door drew her from her thoughts.
“What now?” She groaned.
Standing, she took a look in the mirror next to the door. Her kinky locks had frizzed into an afro. Her pale brown skin shined with sweat from the August heat.
The knock sounded again.
She jogged to the bureau next to the bed, sprayed a little water into her hands and quickly smoothed her hair into a bun, adding a headband for extra control. She then wiped the shine from her face with a clean napkin, smoothed her jeans and t-shirt, and pulled the door open.
His eyes dragged her under immediately.
She shook her head to keep from falling into the blue orbs.
Focus. He’s the man who stole your father from you.
She pushed her face into a frown, trying to hide the shiver that ran through her at the sight of his large body in her doorway.
“Can I help you?”
“Look, I’m sorry that I didn’t know who you were,” he said. “I haven’t seen you in years, and your father didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“Yes, well, he’s not the most talkative person.”
“But I wanted to thank you again for Dondo. And I wanted to give you this.”
He extended his hand, a white envelope hanging from his fingers.
She plucked it from him.
“What’s this?”
He didn’t reply, simply gave her another once over, then left.
Narrowing her eyes, she closed the door behind him, and sat on the bed.
I’ll bet it’s money. Men like that think women only want one thing, a check. Well, if he thinks I need his money, he is mistaken. He can give this right to…
Her thoughts trailed off as she opened the letter. It was the same one she had mailed to him when she was thirteen. All around the white loose leaf paper, in faded blue ink, he had scribbled the same two words over and over again:
I’m sorry.
Chapter 4
Noah
Late morning sunshine bathed the room in light. The rays breathed life into the textured, sea foam colored wallpaper, giving the room a sense of being surrounded by calm seas.
Noah sat on the king-size bed, his body hugging his apple red electric guitar. From time to time he jotted down a few notes on a sheet of paper as he strummed a tune. Dondo reclined at the foot of the bed, cell phone in hand, red pillow under his head.
A seventy-two-inch television screen silently flickered in the background. A blonde newswoman stood in what looked like a run-down neighborhood. Yellow police tape ran behind her. Beyond the tape, a long, square object was covered in a sheet on the ground.
“Where are we going tomorrow?” Dondo asked.
“Jersey.”
“Oh, that’s right, the stadium.” He used his thumb to scroll as, with the other hand, he took a long drink from a beer can. A bit of the beer foamed on his mustache, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
“Yo, man, I need a loan.”
“For what?” Noah’s hand plucked at the guitar strings as he tinkered with a melody. It had been teasing him since yesterday. The tune was slow, sensuous. Something about brown eyes.
“A car,” Dondo said.
“I thought you just bought a car.”
“I did. But it’s a month old.”
“Yeah, whatever.” The phone in Noah’s jeans pocket buzzed. He lifted slightly off the bed to pull it out. The screen flashed the name Aaron Greenberg.
“Who’s that?” Dondo asked.
Noah tossed the phone onto the bed and readjusted his guitar in front of him. “Accountant. Call him later. Tell him I said the loan’s okay.”
Dondo waved a hand dismissively. “Ah, I hate talking to him. He’s always yelling.”
“Yeah, well, you’re always begging.” Noah strung a few more chords on the guitar. “I talked to Walter this morning,” he said.
Dondo looked down at his phone. “Oh yeah. What’d he say?”
“That Cassie was his daughter. He said she’s been away at medical school all these years.”
“But you knew that.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Dondo glanced up from his phone, a disbelieving smile playing on his lips. “You didn’t know Walter had a daughter? I barely talk to Walter and I knew he had a daughter in med school. He doesn’t shut up about it.”
“No, I knew he had a daughter in med school, but I didn’t know she was here.”
“Yo, you really need to get your mind out of the groupie black hole. She’s a banger! Thick thighs, flat stomach, honey eyes, those freckles. I mean, I’d go for her if she wasn’t Walt’s daughter.”
Noah played a bit more of the melody, wrote down a lyric. “Why didn’t he tell me she was working here?”
“Maybe he thought you would figure it out on your own. Guess he didn’t know you were a moron.”
Noah’s thick brown eyebrow rose. “Ha-ha-ha. Anyway, I guess she’s only here until the end of the summer, then she’s going back to school.”
Dondo grunted, and looked back down at his phone.
Why do I feel so guilty? Noah wondered. I mean, I felt guilty about her father leaving them before, but now that she’s here, I feel ten times worse. Almost like I was the one who convinced Walter to leave his family behind. But I didn’t convince him of anything. I was just a kid. Then why do I feel like such a jerk? If only there was a way to make it up to her.
Placing his guitar on the bed next to him, Noah stood and paced along the white carpet. “I should do something. Something that says I’m sorry for the way things turned out.” He snapped his fingers. “I know. I’ll give Walter some time off. He can take Cassie out, they can spend the day together, reconnect.”
Dondo shrugged. “I guess.”
He looked out the window and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m the reason her father left. I should be the reason he’s back in her life.”
“Whatever, dude. You’re taking this too far, as usual.”
“What? I’m being a human being. I’m doing what normal human beings do. I’m trying to make things right.”
“Whatever you have to do to sleep at night, dude.”
“You know what, Dondo? One day, you are going to care about someone other than yourself, and on that day, I want to be there. I want to see it when you look into the eyes of another person and say, I want to help them.”
“Hey, I help people. Hot girls are people too, aren’t they?”
Noah jogged to Dondo, snatched the phone from his hand, and threw it across the room.
“Hey!”
Noah opened his arms wide, threw his body forward, and pinned Dondo to the bed.
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Dondo threw Noah off of him, jumped up.
Noah tripped on the carpet, fell to the floor.
Dondo dropped his elbow, pretending to hit Noah in the sternum.
Noah grabbed his belly, acting hurt.
Dondo righted himself and went to drop another elbow.
Noah pressed himself off the floor, and dropped a shoulder into Dondo’s chest. Both men tumbled to the floor in a fit of laughter.
“All right, I’m done.” Dondo sucked in a harsh gasp. “I’m too old for this crap.”
“Yeah, you’re too old. You’re six months younger than me.”
“Then you’re too old for this crap.” Dondo pushed himself off the ground and headed to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Out,” Dondo said. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“All right, man. Be careful with the ladies.”
“Can’t help it. I’m killing these chicks out here!”
Chapter 5
Screams followed Noah backstage, down the stairs, and into the green room. This was his last night at Madison Square Garden before heading to his home state of New Jersey. The day after that, the European leg of the tour would start in the United Kingdom.
Walter slapped his back in their customary fashion and handed him a towel. “Great show tonight, Noah.”
Noah wiped the sweat from his body and hung the towel around his neck.
“Thanks.”
He tried not to look behind him. He knew that Cassie was there. She’d been following him ever since he’d come off stage. Her presence was like the stirring of wind. Like some breeze that tickled his conscious. He’d noticed it ever since yesterday, when he’d looked into her eyes. Eyes that looked back at him without greed or motive. Eyes that looked directly into his soul. But why? How could he be so aware of someone he’d only known for a day? Someone who most likely hated him for taking away her father?
He forcibly pushed her out of his mind, turning his thoughts to more familiar ground: his fans.
He allowed the wave of cheers to crash over him as he walked into the green room. The sweet sound wrapped around him, re-energizing him.