Wreck of the Day (Love Me, I'm Famous Book 3)

by M. H. Soars

  “You know if I did that it could be the end of my medical career.”

  “I know and I wouldn’t ask you if I had any other choice.”

  You’re such a fucking liar, Saylor. You have a choice. I push my conscience’s voice to the darkest corner in my mind.

  Derek shakes his head and my heart sinks. “I can’t help you, Saylor. I’m sorry.”

  I reach over and touch his arm. “Please, Derek.”

  “Saylor, why can’t you get a legit health certificate?”

  I pull my hand back and avoid his gaze. I knew I would have to confide in him if I had any hope he would help me.

  “I have a blood clot in my brain and the doctor only gave me a year.”

  “Oh my God, Saylor.” Now it’s Derek’s turn to reach out to hold my hand. “Is that the final diagnosis? Have you seen more than one specialist? I can refer you to the best neurosurgeons in the country.”

  I shake my head. “It’s final. I’m resigned to it.”

  “No. I won’t accept that. I want to see your CAT scan results.”

  “Derek, seriously, let it go.”

  He watches me through slits and I’m afraid he can sense I’m hiding something from him. “Do you want the certificate? Let me see your results, Blue.”

  My jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

  He nods. “You know I am.”

  Shit. I should have known Derek wouldn’t take my word for it.

  “Okay. When should I bring them to you?”

  “I’m slammed for the next couple of days. How about we meet on Thursday for lunch? You can pick the place.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll text you the address and the time.”

  I can’t help it if my voice doesn’t sound as enthusiastic as it should. I might have gotten Derek to agree to help me, but what will he do when he finds out I chose to die?

  Fourteen

  SAYLOR

  My phone begins to ring and my mother’s name flashes on the screen. I’d better answer and get it over with.

  “What’s up, Mom?” I say as I walk to my car.

  “Is that how you greet your mother?”

  I roll my eyes and open my car door. “Hi, Mom. How are you, Mom?”

  “Sarcasm duly noted. I’ve received an interesting call today from one of your father’s minions.”

  “Ugh. I’ve already signed the papers. What more could they possibly want?”

  My mother snorts. “For us to go live under a rock, far, far away from him.”

  “Fat chance of that happening.”

  “He’s not pleased about your career choice.”

  “Of course he isn’t. If he could ship me to Mars, he would. Well, he can suck it.”

  “I didn’t tell them anything about your contract. But I thought you should be aware that your father might try to sabotage the band. He really doesn’t want your face on the cover of every magazine and you know why.”

  Yes, I very well know why. I met the reason last night. But I don’t tell my mother that. She would be furious if she knew.

  “Thanks. I’ll make sure to let my new bosses know about the Senator.”

  That’s one secret I don’t have to keep.

  When I arrive at Oliver’s place, I notice the absence of his car. I’m glad and disappointed that he isn’t around. I ring the doorbell and Charlotte is the one who answers it. At least she’s fully dressed today.

  “Hi Saylor, your friends are already in the studio.”

  “Thanks.” I walk past her and up the stairs.

  When I reach the landing, I’m at loss for where to go. Where the heck is the studio? Why can’t I remember?

  “The studio is downstairs, in the basement,” Charlotte says from behind me. “Do you mind if we have a little chat first? We didn’t have the chance to talk properly the other day.”

  I look at her uncertainly. From what I understand, Oliver and Charlotte aren’t close, so I don’t know how much Oliver has confided in her. I hope she’s not about to give me a lecture on how I broke her poor brother’s heart.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “You’ve pulled a number on my brother.” Oh, hell, here we go.

  “I’m not sure I follow.” I watch her through slits and cross my arms.

  “Oh, you do. Let’s cut the crap. You and I both know the only reason Oliver signed your band is because he’s madly in love with you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Charlotte waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m not saying you don’t have talent. My brother is not stupid. He wouldn’t sink money on you if he didn’t think you could make it big. I know I’m not close to him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him. Ollie is, well, he’s been messed up for a very long time. If you care for him, you’ll be real with him.”

  My initial animosity toward Charlotte diminishes considerably. “The last thing I want is to hurt him.”

  “Because you love him.” Not a question, but a statement. I could lie. I should lie. But I can’t.

  “Yes.”

  Charlotte’s expression remains impartial, as if my confession means nothing to her. “Okay, that’s all I needed to know.” She walks away, leaving me confused as hell. What was the point of this conversation? Make me feel guiltier than I already do?

  I shake my head before I go downstairs. As I get closer, I can hear the muffled sounds of instruments. Inside, most of our stuff is already unpacked. I remember this room vaguely, it used to be an entertainment area with a couple of big couches and a pool table. I fucked Oliver here a few times, but I’m glad it has been completely remodeled. I don’t need to be haunted by memories. It’s bad enough I have to be in his house every day now.

  The girls all look at me when I enter the space, but it’s Tabatha who speaks first.

  “It’s about time. Where have you been?”

  “Running errands.”

  My vague answer makes Tabatha give me the stink eye. I ignore her.

  “Check out these keyboards, Blue. They are top of the line,” Remi says excitedly, running her fingers over the brand new instrument.

  “It looks awesome.”

  I glance around, searching for our old instruments, but there’s no sign of them. “Where is Rita?” I whip my face in Tabatha’s direction.

  “Relax. It’s over there.” She points at a couple of stacked up boxes in a corner. Next to it, I spot my guitar case and I release the breath I was holding.

  I stride toward it, picking it up almost reverently. My guitar is everything to me. It has helped me through more hard times than I can count. The thought reminds me of the conversation I had with Mom and I cringe internally. I have to warn my friends.

  “Guys, I have something to tell you.” I return to the middle of the studio, still holding my guitar.

  “Oh, shit. It’s bad news, isn’t it?” Remi takes a seat on a comfy looking leather chair.

  “You don’t know that.” Sticks comes closer.

  Remi looks pointedly at her. “Nothing good ever begins with ‘I have to tell you something’.”

  “What is it, Blue?” Tabatha asks.

  “Well, it’s about my biological father.”

  “Oh great, what did that asshole do this time?” Tabatha says.

  “Uh, I’m lost here, guys. Who’s your father?” Remi looks at me.

  I take a deep breath before I reveal to Remi and Sticks I’m the illegitimate daughter of a Senator. Tabatha has known about the man for a while now. I skip over the part about the attack because, honestly, who would want to talk about that? All I say is I’ve renounced any rights I might have had over his name and fortune.

  “Man, what a story,” Remi says after I’m done with the details.

  “I take it you didn’t share all of this with us for nothing,” Sticks points out.

  “No. One of his minions contacted my mother. Apparently, the Senator is not happy about my chosen career. He must have heard we played at Reinhardt�
�s charity event.” Most likely, my dear sister told him. “I don’t think he knows yet that we have a contract with Renegades, but I wouldn’t put past him to create problems for the band.”

  “You need to tell Allan and Oliver then,” Remi says.

  “I plan to, but I just wanted to give you a heads up first.”

  Tabatha narrows her eyes in defiance before strumming her bass. “The Senator can bring it. Wreck of the Day is not going anywhere.”

  Fifteen

  OLIVER

  I wanted to be around when the girls came by to check out the studio. The company I hired to transport their instruments brought them to the HQ Saturday night after their unofficial debut concert. But Allan wanted to meet with me. He had something urgent to discuss and he didn’t want to do it at Renegades.

  I meet him at Closing Time, the pub in Hermosa Beach where Wreck of the Day used to play. Right now, in the middle of the day, it’s pretty much dead. I find Allan sitting at a booth in the back, his shoulders hunched forward as he cradles his beer glass.

  I slide into the seat opposite him and pull my sunglasses up. Allan looks at me with a frown. “It took you long enough.”

  “Sorry, mate. I got here as fast as I could. What’s going on?”

  Allan slides a folded note across the table in my direction. I pick it up and read the one-liner out loud. “I know your secret.” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “Read the back.”

  “You and the ginger will pay for your deception. What’s this?”

  “You tell me. I found it on the floor of the green room last night. Any secret you’ve been keeping that you want to tell me about?”

  I shake my head. “Wait? You think this note was for me?”

  “Uh, yes. The ginger reference is what clued me in.” He points at his own hair.

  I read the note again while my brain grapples for an answer. It takes me a minute to realize this note wasn’t meant for me. “Shit.”

  “What?” Allan sits up straighter.

  “Bloody hell, it all makes sense now.”

  “What does? Jesus, Ollie. Don’t leave me hanging like that.”

  “This note wasn’t meant for me. I think someone is threatening Saylor.”

  “Saylor? But why?”

  Saylor’s awful past comes to my mind. Her name was never released to the papers. What if someone wanted the truth to come out? I don’t know for what purpose though. Why would someone hold a grudge against her? And the ginger? Are they referring to her former neighbor, the one she was seeing last year?

  “I don’t know, mate. But we have to find out. Do you know a good PI?”

  “A PI? What the hell for? Shouldn’t we talk to Saylor first? If her life is in danger, we should go to the police.”

  “I’ll talk to Saylor, but I don’t think she wants the police involved.”

  Allan leans back on his seat and clenches his jaw. “I’ll make some calls. I have more bad news.”

  What could be worse than someone threatening Saylor’s life? My impulse is to get the hell out of this pub and go check on her.

  “What now?”

  “It’s about Scott Rowan. I sent him the new songs we have for Wreck of the Day and he hates them all. He wants to use one of his own.”

  I narrow my eyes at Allan. “You told me the deal with Scott was for him to record an original song by Wreck of the Day.”

  “It is the deal. Scott is being a diva right now. Anyway, I’ll work with him, but it wouldn’t hurt to have new material to show the guy. In reality, we need a ballad and none of the songs I sent him were.”

  “You want Saylor to sing a ballad with Scott Rowan?” My voice comes out as a growl.

  Allan raises both hands. “Whoa. Take it easy, tiger. It’s just a song. I’m not suggesting they do the horizontal tango on screen.”

  Close enough, I want to say, but I’m already acting like a lunatic, I don’t need to add more crazy to it. “Mate, you need to stop with the mid-century references. Do the horizontal tango? Who the fuck talks like that?”

  “That’s not a mid-century reference,” Allan says through clenched teeth.

  “Whatever. I gotta go.”

  I walk out the pub without looking back. Shit. Now I have two very unpleasant topics to discuss with Saylor. I wonder which one she will take more offense to, the fact I know about the threatening note or that Scott Rowan hates her music?

  When I arrive at Renegades, I’ve decided to talk about business first, but when I open the door to the studio, I only find Tabatha and Sticks there.

  “Where’s Saylor?” I ask.

  Tabatha turns to me with an eyebrow raised. “Saylor and Remi had a shift at the Goulas and left half an hour ago.”

  “It’s Monday. I thought the restaurant didn’t open on Mondays. Besides, why are they still working there?”

  My question doesn’t please Tabatha and now she’s openly glaring at me. “Because they have commitments. They can’t simply bail on their employer without notice.”

  “Without notice…” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s been weeks since you signed with my company.”

  “So? We haven’t even recorded anything yet and you haven’t announced that you signed Wreck of the Day.”

  It’s clear I won’t win any arguments with Tabatha, so I decide to drop the subject for now.

  Sixteen

  SAYLOR

  I didn’t think it strange when a few weeks back Dimitri said the Goulas was going to open today, a Monday, and asked Remi and I to work a shift. He’d said it was a private party event. Ten minutes into our shift we discover the private event is in fact, a party for us. Dimitri hands us shots of ouzo and removes our aprons himself. The restaurant is filled with Remi’s family—including her Japanese grandparents—and their close friends. That means the place is packed.

  In the blink of an eye, tables and chairs are shifted to create a long-ass table in the middle of the restaurant and Remi and I are given the seats of honor.

  “What is going on?” I say in a daze as Remi’s grandma pushes me toward my chair.

  “What do you think, child? It’s not every day not one but two of our family members get the opportunity of a life time.”

  I’m taken aback by her statement. “I’m family?”

  She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What kind of question is that? Of course you are family.”

  I take my seat next to Remi and a glass of red wine materializes in front of me. I lean closer to her and whisper in her ear, “Did you know about this?”

  “Nope. They sure kept it under wraps and coming from my family, that’s a huge accomplishment.”

  “You don’t say.”

  The Goulas has always been a loud restaurant, but tonight it’s a cacophony of sounds with everyone speaking at a higher voice level. I’m asked so many questions it’s a miracle I manage to get any food and drink inside my body. Well, drinking the wine is easier, and a couple of hours later, I have a great buzz going on.

  I shouldn’t even be surprised when Oliver walks into the restaurant. It’s like destiny is trying its hardest to shove us together. He has a look of pure surprise on his face as he takes in the room, which clues me in he had no idea a party had been planned.

  His gaze connects with mine and I can’t look away. My entire body hums, my heart rings at his mere presence alone. My fuzzy brain can’t remember why I keep pushing him away. He begins to walk in my direction, and with unsteady legs, I get up to meet him half way. I’m lucky I manage not to fall flat on my face. We stop within inches of each other and I smile like a fool.

  “Hi.”

  “Hello, sugar. Didn’t know you were having a party.”

  “It’s a surprise farewell party. Isn’t it great?”

  Oliver narrows his eyes, but on his lips there’s a ghost of a smile. “Yes. How much did you drink?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “I have no idea. A lot?”

  “Oy, Oliver is here!” Someone
shouts and I turn to glare at the stupid person who interrupted my conversation with him. I want to keep Oliver all to myself. I’ve missed him so much.

  “Hey, Pepe. How are you?” he says.

  “Wonderful. Took the missus on a very nice vacation thanks to you.” He winks at Oliver and then turns to smile at his wife.

  Before anyone decides to say hello to Oliver as well, I take his hand and drag him outside.

  “Whoa. You kicking me out?”

  “No. I was hot. Didn’t you think it was hot in there?” I pull the front of my shirt forward to let some cool air in. I don’t miss when Oliver’s gaze drops to my chest.

  He chuckles before he answers. “A little bit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of you before, Saylor.”

  I frown at him. “What side?”

  “The funny drunk side.”

  I pout and cross my arms in front of my chest. “I’m not a funny drunk.”

  “Okay, sugar. Whatever you say. Come on, let’s head back inside before they think I’ve kidnapped you.”

  He moves closer and touches my lower back, pushing me forward, but I’m not ready to go, not by a long shot.

  “Wait. You didn’t tell me yet why you are here.”

  “What makes you think I wasn’t invited?”

  “You weren’t.”

  “Touché.” He takes a step back and runs a hand through his hair. “I came to talk to you, but we can wait until tomorrow.”

  I step closer, invading his personal space, and touch his chest. I stare at it for a moment, enjoying the feel of his accelerated heart beat under the palm of my hand, before I peer at him through my eyelashes. He swallows hard and on a crazy impulse, I lick the hollow of his throat.

  “Saylor, what are you doing?” His voice comes out as growl.

  “Making sure you still taste as good as I remember.”

  His hands grab my arms and I’m afraid he’s going to push me away, but he doesn’t.

  “You’re drunk. You’ll regret this tomorrow.”