Love Song
Page 25
“Come on in,” I said, getting off my futon and meeting her at the small dinette table. “Do you want something to drink? I have seltzer.”
“That works,” she said, busying herself with opening a bag of chips to go with the sandwiches while I grabbed plates and two cans of seltzer.
When we settled at the table, she poked at her sandwich. “So, everything okay?”
“Sure, how about you?” I asked before taking a bite.
“Everything’s fine,” she said, cocking her head. “But I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time here the past few days. Some shit go down at En Fuego?”
It had been four days since Reesie showed up at the En Fuego offices. I hadn’t been back since.
“They’re working on the mix. They don’t need me for that,” I said. “I write better alone.”
“You need more songs for the album?” she asked, nibbling on a chip.
“Bobby wants me to have a library of lyrics ready for the listening party,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her. “Why?”
She shrugged. “Just curious.”
“You worried I got cut from the deal?” I asked. “Can’t cover my rent?”
“Nope,” she said, finally picking up her sandwich.
“Plus, I don’t have a car. Still. Not many places to go without one.”
I kind of needed to get on that, but I wasn’t a fan of driving in LA to begin with. Losing my ability to get around town easily sucked, but it was countered by the measure of relief I felt at not having to drive.
“So you’re just hanging out, writing songs.”
I put my drink down and looked at her. “You need me to babysit or something? You can just ask.”
She shook her head and swallowed. “I’m worried.”
“About what?”
“About you.”
“Why?”
“Heartbreak.”
I stared at my plate.
“Rafe called me,” she continued. “Said you’re not taking his calls. He’s worried too.”
“So he asked you to check up on me?” I snapped.
“Nope,” she said. “I mean, he did. But I told him that the silent treatment was likely because he had done something douchey and that he needed to think long and hard about that. I would not clear his conscience for him.”
I did a little laugh-snort.
“But I am worried about you because I’m your next-door neighbor and your friend,” she continued. “And even though he sometimes has his head up his ass, I know Rafe is a righteous guy at heart. And I know you are both hurting.”
I glanced up at her. “Is it on the internet?”
“Is what on the internet?” she asked.
“Rafe and Reesie,” I said.
“Reesie? As in Reesie Allen?” Lydon crossed her arms and sat back in her chair.
“You know her?” I asked.
Lydon rolled her eyes. “I know of her, and that’s enough.”
I cracked a smile at that.
“What does Reesie Allen have to do with any of this?” Lydon asked. “I thought she was in New York.”
I sighed and shook my head. Then I shared what had happened at the studio. How Rafe had leaned into Reesie, how they’d whispered with their heads together, how she’d wanted my song. Our song. The song we created together. The song that had led me to him. The song that had helped me realize that I was falling in love with Rafe Davis. By the time I finished, we had deserted our lunch and moved to my futon. Lydon smoothed my hair while I rested my head in her lap and cried.
“So what are you going to do?” she asked when my torrent of tears had finally slowed down. “You can’t hide out in this little studio forever.”
“Sure I can,” I said around a hiccup. “I don’t need much. And I have Amazon Prime.”
“The scourge of society,” Lydon muttered. “You can’t hole up in here, babe. You need to get out, see people, be part of the world.”
“I hate the world,” I said. “Most of it is cruel.”
“Yes. I know that more than most,” Lydon reminded me, and I immediately felt like an ass. Her husband was dead because he couldn’t cope with the world. And here I was refusing to cope with it.
I pushed up on one elbow and saw that Lydon’s eyes were wet too. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
She waved away my apology. “Chad had demons, Jett. Sure, the world is cruel, and there are plenty of shitty people populating it. Grimm is a case in point.” She ran her fingers through her raven hair. “But Chad was battling it alone, even though he didn’t need to. I was there, his band members were there. But the drugs fucked with his mind. And that’s where he stumbled. It wasn’t because the world is cruel. It was because his illness didn’t allow him to see the path out of the darkness. I was at the end. So was Charlie. So was Ear Assassins. If he’d seen us there, cheering him on, I’d still have my husband.”
I looked at Lydon, her small body curled up in the corner of my futon, and didn’t hide my awe at her strength and wisdom. “When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”
She laughed. It was full, throaty, beautiful. “It took a while for me to get to this. And a shit ton of therapy. I didn’t just wake up as Yoda.”
I tucked my feet under me and looked at her. “But now you’re okay. I mean, you seem to have it down.”
“I still have my moments,” she said, her smile disappearing. “Like this morning. Got a call that Ear Assassins is on the short list for induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.”
I tilted my head. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”
She shook her head. “I mean, sure. But I have to get all dolled up, fly out to Cleveland. Fucking Cleveland! Just to play the part of the grieving widow. Again.”
The resentment in her voice took me by surprise. “I’m sorry?”
Her face softened. “No, I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out and squeezing my knee. “It’s good, it is good. It’s part of Chad’s legacy. And I want to do it for the guys, the band. It matters to them. But I’m just exhausted by the whole thing. And I know it’ll probably boost sales yada yada, but I’m still battling it out with Grimm, so any dime we earn from this will go to Grimm or the lawyers.”
“I wish this shit was over, for both of you,” I said.
“Me too,” she agreed with a grimace. “Plus, I’d have to buy a fucking dress. I hate dresses. Especially overpriced frocks that I can’t afford right now.” She pushed out a loud breath. “Maybe I can figure out a way to keep the tags on.”
“Well, that you don’t have to worry about,” I said, straightening my shoulders. Finally, there was something I could do to help Lydon.
“Sorry, love, but you don’t strike me as the type with a closet full of designer dresses.”
“No, but Vivienne is.” I yanked my phone out of my back pocket and unlocked it.
“Vivienne?” she asked, her nose wrinkling. “You mean that cute rockabilly chick you hang out with?”
I swiped through my contacts, found her number, and pressed the phone to my ear. “Hey, Viv, it’s me. You still out shopping?” I got her affirmative. “You know Lydon? Do you think you could dress her for the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame?”
Her screams of excitement were so loud, I pulled the phone away from my ear. Lydon’s face turned a faint shade of crimson at Viv’s super-loud response.
“She’ll be over in two hours,” I said, disconnecting the call.
Lydon’s head jerked back. “But it might not even happen!”
“She’s out meeting with designers and said she’s got some things in mind and wants to show them to you, wants to gauge your reaction.”
“She is fast, isn’t she?”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I said. “She’ll make you feel like a goddamn fairy princess when she’s done.”
Lydon pursed her lips. “I’d rather be Cruella.”
“Yeah, keep saying that,” I deadpanned. “But I’ve seen you with Charlie.
”
Her face flushed again, the love for her boy apparent.
“Busted,” she said.
“Seriously, Ly, thanks,” I said.
“You figure out what you’re going to do?”
“No,” I admitted. “But it was nice to have a lap to cry on.”
“You’ve been through a lot, kid,” she said, getting to her feet and stretching, exposing her stomach, which included an intricate tattoo covering her lower abs. “You take the time you need to get your head straight. Rafe will be there. Or not. But you don’t need him to do what you’ve got to do.”
“You’re right, I don’t need him,” I said, then I looked down at my lap. “But I miss him.”
She smiled and picked up my guitar. “Then write about it,” she said, handing it to me.
I cradled my guitar and nodded. That I could do.
Lydon winked at me, then packed up her uneaten lunch and left me to it.
I heard her footsteps trudge down the stairs and then the door to her store slam close. Then I strummed my guitar, and for the first time in days, I poured out my soul.
33
“You okay?” Nikki asked as she flopped on the couch in the cramped greenroom of Vamp, an upscale jazz club just on the outskirts of Beverly Hills.
The venue was a little too polished, a little too elegant for rock and roll. But Bobby said the room’s acoustics were unparalleled. I’d learned he was right when I did the sound check. So I’d play my rock and roll for a crowd swilling fancy martinis, craft beer, and likely rosé wine, even though rosé was an affront to Dionysus.
“Are you okay?” I asked, taking in her sloppily braided hair and harried expression.
She waved me off. “Last-minute packing. As in, Dion didn’t pack a damn thing.”
“Where are you going?” I asked.
She wrinkled her nose and aimed her ass toward a couch cushion. “Dion surprised me with a vacation to Hawaii, so I’m trying so hard not to be annoyed. But he tossed a pair of board shorts in a carry-on and called it a day. I had to shove his crap into my suitcase because he doesn’t own one.”
“He doesn’t own a suitcase?” I asked. “How is that even possible? He tours.” I leaned uncertainly back in the makeup chair so that Vivienne could continue working, digging my nails into the arms of the seat with each swipe of her makeup brush.
“Stop tensing,” Vivienne warned, pausing with her brush about an inch away from my face.
I tried to relax. I’d never worn so much makeup in my life, and the cakey feeling of it made me want to rub it off. Poor Vivienne had already had to wipe down my face for a do-over because of it.
“Devlin packs his shit along with the gear,” Nik said while Vivienne began plastering my face with goop again. “The coddling of that man is astounding.”
Viv giggled, which made me tense again, forcing her to stop. During the pause, I caught Nikki’s eyes in the mirror, and they were filled with humor. Dion was a rock scion. The normal rules never applied to him.
I blew out a breath and tried to force some Zen. “So how’d you cram everything into yours?”
“I brought less clothes,” she said, twisting her mouth in disdain. “Dion insists I only need a bikini anyway. But I’m not hiking to the top of a volcano with the girls hanging out.”
I wanted to lift an eyebrow at that, but for Vivienne’s sake, I kept my face super still. “You are hiking to the top of a volcano? On purpose?”
“Some of us enjoy physical activity, Jett.”
“Pfft” was my response as Viv sketched the outer ridge of my eye with liner.
“What’s the rundown this afternoon?” Nikki asked, popping open a bottle of seltzer that she’d retrieved from the ice bucket next to the couch. Bottles of flat water and an assortment of sodas, beer, and wine were cooling in the bucket. Plus, there was a crudités platter, several small veggie wrap sandwiches cut into manageable bites, and a gigantic bowl of berries with fresh non-dairy whipped cream on the side spread out on the coffee table. All of it untouched, since my stomach was in knots.
I wrinkled my nose to keep from sneezing, such was the temptation whenever eyeliner was being applied. “I’m doing three songs off the EP.”
“Who’s backing?”
“Studio band.”
It was Nikki’s turn to wrinkle her nose. “Does that mean Frieze?”
“Yup,” I said, shifting in the seat when Viv stepped back to survey her work. He was not my first choice, but I guess Johnny had a contract. I tried not to think about it.
“I can play, you know,” Nikki said. “I know your songs well enough that I should be able to pick up the beat, no problem.”
“But Grimm—”
“Fuck Grimm,” she said. “The lawyers are on that shit.”
I slumped back on my stool while Vivienne rooted around in her makeup kit, looking for a new form of torture, I was sure.
“Why’d you block Rafe’s number?” Nikki asked.
I pushed out a breath. I already had that pre-gig stress, and Nikki was piling more on top of it.
“Because I don’t want to talk to him.”
“He wants to talk to you,” she continued.
“I don’t want to hear it, Nik,” I snapped. I saw Nikki and Vivienne exchange a look. “What?”
“Obviously,” Vivienne said, crossing her arms and leaning against the makeup counter.
“Jett, he’s been trying to reach out, to explain,” Nikki said.
“There’s nothing to explain. Reesie’s back in LA. He promised her my song,” I said. Nikki frowned. “Look, Nik, I feel like a fool believing that I meant something to him. Okay? I was, like, his rebound or something.”
“You were totally not his rebound,” Vivienne interjected.
“A man like Rafe does not fall in love with someone like me.”
Nikki leaned forward. “And what the hell does that mean?”
Vivienne crossed her arms. “Yeah, I’d love to know too.”
“It means that I am not in his league.”
Nikki launched herself off the couch, grabbed my head, and yanked it toward the mirror. “Look at yourself.”
“Stop it, Nik,” I said, trying to turn my head away. But she dug her fingers into my hair and pulled. “Ow!”
“Sorry,” she muttered, but didn’t let go. “We call this tough love. Now look at yourself.”
“I don’t need to look at myself to know that I do not have bouncy hair and big boobs and an upturned nose and a perfectly symmetrical heart-shaped face.”
“Reesie Alan is attractive,” Vivienne said.
I threw my hands up. “I rest my case!”
“Not helping,” Nikki hissed at her. But she released my head and sank back down into the couch.
“But she’s pretty in that Stepford starlet sort of way,” Vivienne said. “I mean, you can’t swing a cat in Hollywood without hitting a Reesie Allen.”
Nikki snorted.
“But there is only one Jett Benson,” Vivienne continued. She took my chin and lifted it, angling my face to the mirror. This time I let her. “And, Jett, honey, you are radiant. Right down to your soul.”
I stared at myself in the mirror. Vivienne was a master. She’d contoured my cheeks, making my high cheekbones stand out even more. My eyes, which I’d always felt were Blythe Doll enormous, looked kind of pretty with dark, curled lashes. I was no Reesie bombshell, but I was attractive. And she was right. LA was littered with Reesie Allens. I was an original, that was for sure.
Vivienne’s hand moved to my hair to tame my curls.
“Leave ’em,” I said, pulling a chunk of my hair out of her hands.
Vivienne scowled.
“Trust me, it’s better to just let them do their own thing.”
Nikki straight-up howled with laughter. “She’s telling the truth,” she spat out between bursts of cackling. “Product fizzes her hair like crazy.”
“Wash, leave-in conditioner, air-dry,” I said.
> “It’s a science,” Nikki agreed.
“Then my work here is done,” Vivienne said. To prove it, she reached into the ice bucket and procured a beer. She cracked it, took a long swig, and then fussed with the garment bags that held my outfit for the performance. “Now, enough with the Rafe talk. You have a performance to give, and you need to focus. How do you feel?”
“Fine,” I said.
She whirled around and looked at me, her fist planted on her hip. “If you’re not nervous, I’m worried.”
“She’s lying,” Nikki said, popping a strawberry into her mouth. “How many times has she gone to the bathroom so far?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Shut up.”
“Exactly,” Nik said. “If she’s wearing pants so tight that they look painted on, wait until the last minute to dress her.”
“I just hate this part,” I said.
Vivienne’s eyes went wide. “You hate performing?”
“No,” I said. “I’m fine when I get onstage—”
“She can hide behind her hair and her guitar,” Nikki tossed out.
I shot her a murderous look. “I just don’t like waiting.”
“Mm-hmm, the anticipation,” Vivienne said, as though she was sharing some wisdom from a sage.
“I guess,” I muttered.
“All the more reason I should play with you,” Nikki sing-songed from her relaxed position on the couch.
“Johnny—” I started.
“Is a first-rate douche,” Nik interrupted.
I huffed out a breath. “You don’t think I know that?”
“I know you know that,” Nik said. She made a strangled sound. “And he’s a terrible drummer.”
“He’s loud,” I said.
Nik stuck out her tongue like she was gagging, and I giggled. I couldn’t help it. That was why I loved being out there with my sisters. No one else made me feel so at ease when I played. Except for… well, never mind.
“I think Johnny sees this as his shot,” I continued. “He thought the spot in Rogue was rightfully his.”
Nikki snorted. “Like Dion would ever let that happen.”