“I do too, most of the time. He’s had it rough.” She takes her shades off and sits up, swinging her legs over the edge of the chair. “You’ll watch out for him, right? He’s got a lot going on right now. Have you heard about his mother?”
I nod. “He asked me to help him. He wants to take power of attorney away from his dad. Can you believe the guy refuses to put her on life support? Luke says it’s some kind of revenge scheme. So awful.”
Sheila looks away and I narrow my eyes. “What?”
She bites her bottom lip, then finally looks back at me. “Ellie’s had that tumor for years. It’s why they released her from jail. That and good behavior. She wasn’t even supposed to live as long as she did and I think she’s…” Her gaze shifts to the house next door and I lean forward.
“What?”
“I think she’s…ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“To die.” Sheila shrugs. “She made peace with it a long time ago. She refused to tell Ross and Luke because she didn’t want to seem like she was vying for their attention. Especially after everything that went down between them. The only person that knew for the longest time was Mom. She told me because of Ross. But I had to swear not to say anything. It took Mom two years to convince her to get treatment. And I think that was mostly because of the doctor. This guy Ellie used to know back when she was a kid. Anyway, if she hadn’t have collapsed, I’m not even sure Luke would have found out.”
“She was just going to die? Without letting them say goodbye?” The idea seems so selfish to me. After everything she’s done. Doesn’t she have any clue what’s it’s like for a child to lose a parent?
“And now Luke won’t tell Ross because he’s afraid he won’t care. But I don’t believe that for second. I know he will.”
“Then you tell him,” I say plainly.
Sheila shakes her head. “I can’t. I haven’t talked to him in so long. How can I just pick up the phone and drop something like that? It should come from Luke.”
“But it won’t. So maybe it should just come from you. In fact, I think coming from you he might appreciate it.”
Sheila shrugs. “Maybe.”
“And like you said, Luke’s got a lot going on right now, with you moving to Sagle and all this pressure. He probably needs Ross more than anything at this point”
She nods. “You’re probably right. But you’ll still look out for him, right?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” She clears her throat, her gaze flickering over me with a nervous energy.
“What?” I roll my eyes, she’s so easy to read it’s hilarious.
“How are things with you, anyway?”
“Great.” I smile. “I’m on vacation until August. That’s the benefit of freelance lawyering.” I wink and take another sip of my margarita. “I worked my ass off this year. I’ve already got five clients and two potentials. Now I’m going to enjoy myself until I have to go back to staring at contracts and buttering up athletes.”
“How are things with Dash?”
The question catches me off guard. I’m not sure why. I could tell her probing before had to do with more than my work life, but I hoped deflection would avoid the inevitable. Sheila’s made it clear she’s not much of a Dash fan.
“Good,” I lie, bringing the straw to my mouth again.
“So you’re clearly not pregnant.”
“Nope.”
“And you told him? About the pregnancy scare?”
“Yep.”
“And…?”
“And it’s over now. We’ll be more careful.”
Sheila opens her mouth to speak, then shuts it again. She stares at me for several excruciating seconds before turning on her mom voice and looking me straight in the eye.
“I’m only going to say this once. And it’s only because I’m about to move away and I won’t get to tell you this more often, but the truth is, I think you can do much better than Dash.”
“I love Dash,” I say with a sigh. “We fit.”
Sheila raises both eyebrows, then with a gaze so fiery she could fry an egg she says, “No, sweetie. No you don’t.”
My defenses immediately come up and I place my drink on the table next to me, doing my best not let it clatter in the wake of my frustration. I’m sick of everyone telling me about how I should feel about my boyfriend.
“Yes, Sheila, we do. I know he’s not the guy everyone thinks I should be with, but he’s the guy I want to be with. He’s not perfect, by any means, but he’s good enough for me. We make it work because we love each other. Relationships can’t always be butterflies and rainbows. You, of all people, should know that.”
She doesn’t respond right away. She regards me with quiet contemplation, before getting up from the lawn chair. She stands directly in front of me, arms crossed, staring down at me.
“I know Dash. I know how difficult he can be and I know you get used to it. It comes with the territory or whatever but, sweetie, I don’t think you should have to get used to it. You shouldn’t be with a guy whose shit you learn to put up with, you should be with a guy who makes all the other shit in your life easier to deal with.”
I don’t even know how to respond to that. I want to yell at her and tell her she’s wrong. That she can’t possibly know what goes on between us, but the part of me that knows she’s right, holds my tongue like a vise.
Sheila picks up her bag and heads toward the pool-house.
“Where are you going?” I call after her.
“Ray has a doctor’s appointment in a few hours and I need to pick up some new underwear for Mariah. But I’ll call you later.”
Something tells me new underwear an hours-away-appointment can wait, especially considering how long it’s been since we’ve done anything like this, but I know I won’t convince her otherwise. She thinks I’m an idiot and I have no intention of agreeing with her. It’s my life.
“Don’t forget about your birthday dinner,” I say weakly.
She turns to offer me a genuine smile. “Are you kidding me? It better be a night to remember.” She winks and I relax just a bit.
“Count on it,” I say.
Maybe the idea that she’s so pissed about Dash has more to do with me than it does with her. Maybe it’s my own guilt that has me paranoid all the other people in my life will abandon me, if I don’t abandon him first.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Luke
The knocking is so incessant I know who it is before I even open the door. Maya stands in the archway, her pregnant belly protruding so far out in front of her, I can’t help but laugh. Her normally coifed brown hair and shiny demeanor, seems like it hasn’t made an appearance in months.
She scowls at me and pushes her way inside.
“I need you tonight, Luke. No more excuses. This is a partnership and I’m sick and tired of doing all this shit myself. My ankles are swollen, I have to pee every three seconds and a smoky bar is the absolute worst place for me right now.” She growls. “Debbie Long. I give her a chance and she just walks off into the sunset to marry some soldier. No warning. Nothing. The stupid bitch just quits on me last minute. And it was your brother’s idea to do this idiotic open mic thing in the first place.”
I give her a once over and lower myself in the sofa as she paces back and forth in front of me. She’s right about those ankles. Goddamn, she’s got fucking baby feet.
“The set list is full. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. These open mic things bring in more money than I ever imagined, but I can’t stand there in a cloud of cigarette smoke until three in the morning. I need my sleep and I need my fucking lungs more.”
I laugh. For a woman about to give birth, she sure is going against the stereotype. “Thought you said you were going smoke free.”
“I am. We did. But some people are taking a while to get the message. It’s supposed to a classy establishment, then this Monday night crowd comes in and turns it all upside down.”
/> “So what do you need me for?”
“You’re the one with all the stage experience. I need you to run the damn show. Be the MC or whatever.”
“Hell, no.”
She smacks me on the shoulder. “Luke! I need you. Would you just pull yourself out of the fucking bat cave for once and come to the goddamn rescue.”
I laugh again, marveling at how much worse of a person Maya is pregnant. And I thought the countless confrontations back when she was dating my brother were bad.
Not amused and clearly exhausted, she plops down into the sofa next to me. I’m actually surprised when my side doesn’t go veering up into the air. She seems to read my thoughts, and offers me a black look, even deeper than the one she’s been wearing since she walked in here. And as though someone’s literally flipped a switch, she sucks in a quivering breath, her eyes getting all misty.
“I just can’t do this anymore. I’m so fucking tired I think I might die.”
It’s a part of Maya I’ve never seen before and I suddenly find myself preferring her bitch signature than whatever the hell this is.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll run the show.”
She sniffs. “Really?”
“But I’m not getting up on stage talking and all that shit. I’ll call up the sets and that’s it. I’m not talking to customers and I’m not dealing with bullshit. That’s your job.”
The scowl returns to her face but she nods in agreement anyway. “Fine, but for the love of god, shave off that beard. You look like a Bee Gee.” With a groan she glances toward the staircase. “Can I use your bathroom?”
“Sure.” I smirk. “I take it you remember where it is?”
She sets her jaw and turns a reluctant gaze back on me. “Could you give me a hand?” she asks, arm outstretched.
I sit behind the desk in Ross’s old office and down a third shot of rum. I’d prefer the premium stuff we’ve got on tap, but it’s the easiest way to get the buzz I need in order to survive this night without anyone looking at me sideways. Popping a stick of gum in my mouth, I shake off the rest of my discomfort and make my way toward the door.
It’s already eleven and the club is packed. The first few performers have the crowd pulsing and I know, without a doubt, I won’t be able to go another minute without being recognized. I’m in for a night of questions about where I’ve been, what I’ve been up to and the worst one of all, am I going to get up on stage.
For the most part, I know it won’t be an awful night. Most of the people in here are those who are either willing to tolerate me or those who wouldn’t dare bring up my past for fear of pissing me off. There won’t be any Avery Chase’s around, but it doesn’t make me want to be here anymore than I did when I reluctantly agreed to help Maya out.
I squeeze through the crowd, toward the back stage area, garnering a few nods and a pat on the back here and there. The next band is primed and ready, and I can tell the lead singer—a kid no more than twenty-one is about to shit himself when he sees me.
I brace myself for contact, picking up the set list as nonchalantly as I can.
“Glacier?” I ask, doing my best to avoid the kid’s steady gaze.
“You’re Luke Black,” he states, his voice just below a girly squeal. “I told them this was your place, but the fuckers didn’t believe me. See?” He glances over his shoulder at the rest of his crew, a girl dressed in nothing but black from head to toe—even her hair, lipstick and fingernails, and a guy that reminds me of a younger Dash. Rings in every surface, the signature mohawk and more ink than should even make sense for a guy his age. “Are the other guys here?” he asks. “You guys performing tonight?”
“Not a chance,” I reply. “You’re on in five. Go get your shit ready.”
He nods excitedly, like I just told him we were about to become best friends, then scurries off with the rest of his gawking band.
Glacier turns out not to be half bad. The girl’s voice is incredible and minus the permanent scowl, the she’s even kind of hot and mini-Dash turns out to be pretty wicked on the drums. Probably even better than the real thing. The whole set makes me think of my brother. Of the recent struggle he’s had to find something fresh and new. I’ll have to make it a point to mention these kids. But there’s no way I’m about to let the cocky little lead singer know.
With the break between sets, I head back to the office to grab another shot. As I do, I catch a glimpse of something that probably shouldn’t make me as instantly on edge as it does. But holy shit, it does.
Coco and Dash are lingering in the hallway, pressed against the office door. He’s got his hands all over her, his tongue shoved down her throat and she’s actually responding to that shit. Her fingers are roaming over his shaved head, her chest arched forward pushed up against him like he’s her fucking life support.
I should probably walk away, avoid another confrontation altogether. But it occurs to me that, while what they’re doing isn’t my business, they’re cramping my style. Blocking entry to the one place I can be alone.
I clear my throat and Coco immediately pushes him away, her wide gaze landing on me—a cherry red flush on her cheeks. Dash doesn’t even turn to acknowledge me, at first. Instead, he snakes his arm around her waist, plastering it against her lower back and jerking her right back toward him before devouring her mouth again. I clench my teeth barely able to hold in my anger as I wait for them to come up for air.
Coco pushes against Dash again, murmuring something and he finally angles to face me. “Hey, Luke.”
“Hey,” I grunt. “You mind?” I nod toward the door they’re leaned up against and Dash chuckles.
“Sorry, man.” He turns back to Coco. “Got a little distracted.”
I ignore his response and brush past them.
“It’s nice to see you out, Luke.” Coco smiles, her perfect white teeth gleaming in the dimly lit hallway.
My hand on the door knob, I can’t help but think of the conversation I had with Sheila just the other day. “Can I talk to you, Coco?” I ask without looking at her.
“Uh, sure.”
I swing the door open stepping aside. “In here.” I turn to level my gaze on Dash. “Alone.”
Dash’s eyes narrow and I focus on her now, waiting patiently for a response.
“Luke…” She glances at him, as if begging for permission and it only makes me madder.
“It’ll only take a second. Just come on. Please? It’s important.”
“I—I’ll be right back.”
I catch a glimpse of a tense muscle jumping in Dash’s jaw as I close the door behind us, then lean my back against it, staring at the floor for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” Coco says right away. “That was so inappropriate.”
“I don’t care about that,” I lie. “It’s a club, the entire population is sexed up.”
Her face flushes and she looks away before asking, “What did you want to talk about?”
“My mom.” It’s partly true. I did plan on heading over there in the morning to see if she’d had a chance to speak with her dad.
“Oh, of course. I haven’t had a chance to talk with my dad yet. We didn’t end up meeting for dinner that week. He’s been swamped with this case, but I did leave him a message. I’m sure he’ll be able to help.” She smiles that warm smile and I instantly relax. But I soon find myself grappling for another reason to keep her in here and away from him. She takes a tiny step forward, placing her hand on my arm. “Sheila told me about the move. Are you okay?”
I stare at her hand, cursing myself for the way that simple touch sends tingles up my spine. “Uh, yeah. It’s cool. We talked it out.”
She nods. “If you need anything…”
She has no idea the things I’d ask for if it didn’t make me out to be the worst kind of guy. I shake my head, doing my best to expel the sinful thoughts. “Sure, thanks.”
“Are you okay?” I ask after several seconds of silence.
Coco nods, almost
like she knows exactly what I’m getting at, but is refusing to say it out loud. “Thanks for asking.”
She looks back toward the door and before she can bring up the inevitable, I say, “I should go. Gotta make sure the next act is ready.”
The second we step out into the hallway, Dash stops mid-pace, his attention bouncing from me to Coco, suspicion clouding his vision. “What was that all about?” he asks.
Even though he’s no longer looking my way, I say, “Business.”
He grunts something then grabs Coco’s hand. “Let’s go. Don’t want anyone to steal our seats.”
She offers me one last glance before trailing along behind him.
“Don’t be a stranger,” I call after her.
The words sound ridiculous coming out of my mouth, because if there’s anything I’ve wanted over the past few years it’s for everyone in this damn town to do just that.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Coco
I push away from Dash’s kiss and reach for the door handle.
“Can I come in?”
At least this time, he bothered to ask.
Still, I sigh and turn back to face him. “Not tonight. I’m just so tired and I’ve got some work to do.”
“I thought you were on vacation.” He scowls.
“I am. But I’m helping Luke out with something.”
“So I can’t come in for an hour, babe? Seriously? You get me all hot with your antics in the back of the club and now you want to just turn off the fucking tap?”
“Dash—”
“What? What is so important that you had to lock yourself up in the office with him and leave me with my mind racing in the hallway? You sleeping with him? Is that it?”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
I reach for the door again, but he locks it. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I say, “Open it, Dash. I’m not in the mood.” I know my words will only serve to piss him off even more, but at this point, I could care less. I’m tired now, irritated and I really just want to call it a night.
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