no part in it.”
“Then what?”
“You really need me to spell it out for you? You use and discard women. A different city, a different girl every night. That’s not hearsay, Jon. You yourself told me that. So I’m just supposed to smile and say nothing when I see you practically fucking my sister in public?”
Jon tapped his fingers on the armrest. “Number one, I wasn’t ‘practically fucking’ Maggie; I was kissing her. Number two, you sure your feelings aren’t misplaced out of guilt? You don’t want me around your sister because you’re afraid I’ll tell her that we had a threesome…with your wife?”
Billy glared at him.
“I’m not off base, am I?” Jon prompted.
“Fuck. Maybe that is part of it.” Billy ran his hand through his hair and muttered, “We can’t change the past.”
“But we sure as hell can hide it, right?”
“I’d hoped that would be a given.”
Jon shrugged. “I haven’t told anyone, because contrary to what you believe, I don’t blab about my sex life.” When Billy started to contradict him, Jon held up his hand. “And please don’t pretend you think you know me, based on that one time we stayed together in the condo, for two days, over four years ago.”
Billy snorted. “You saying you’ve changed?”
“I’m saying what we talked about, how much pussy I was getting back then was brought up by you—not me. I won’t deny I’ve taken what was freely offered to me. Does that make me a man whore? No doubt. But I take offense to your statement that I use and discard women. I don’t.”
“Maybe that’s the way you see it, or how you justify it. But I watched you Saturday night. Within minutes of being surrounded by adoring fans, Johnny Feather forgot about Maggie Buchanan entirely. She tried to get your attention but you didn’t see her. Know what sucked about that? I had to witness the disappointment on her face. I tried to prevent my sister from getting hurt and it happened anyway.”
Jon hated that Billy was right on that point. He hadn’t realized Maggie hadn’t hung around until the crowd had thinned and everyone had gotten a piece of him.
“Go ahead and call me a dick for saying this, but I’m glad Maggie saw that side of your life—of you—before you two get more involved.”
And what really stung? Jon wished Billy was wrong, but he wasn’t sure he was.
“Did you call her and apologize?” Billy asked.
“I don’t have her phone number.” He scowled. “And I wasn’t about to call you or Eden to get it.”
“Smart choice.” Billy leaned back in his chair. “Make another smart choice, Jon. Walk away from her.”
I don’t know if I can. “I’ll remind you that Raven and I are taking dance lessons from Maggie and Seth.”
“I wish Eden wouldn’t have suggested Maggie teach that dance class. It’s just giving her false hope about returning to dancing when she needs to look for a real full-time job.”
“Jesus, Billy. Have you actually said that bullshit to Maggie?”
“What’s wrong with telling her the truth?”
“That’s not the truth. That’s crushing her dream and her spirit. Maggie loves dancing and she’s damn good at it. Why shouldn’t she have a chance to do something that she loves?”
Billy leaned forward. “Because it is a dream. Dreams don’t pay the bills and provide for the future. I’m sure you’re telling her something completely different, you creative types don’t tend to be grounded in reality. But Maggie is. She had a great job and a great career. That dance partner has filled her head with pipe dreams. She’ll just end up disappointed again.”
“Again?”
“Like in college. She got to the point her dance schedule affected her academics. I sat her down and talked to her about her future, telling her the best she could’ve hoped for with a performance degree was to end up teaching. She buckled down in a field of study that would be financially rewarding and stabilizing, made decent grades and ended up with a better-than-average job right after graduation.”
Jon kept his mouth shut. But his gut clenched, thinking of the joy on Maggie’s face when she danced. And the wistful look when she’d told him how much she’d missed that part of herself. What would Jon have done if his brother had sat him down and told him not to pursue a music career? Because Jon respected Jim so much, he would’ve listened.
Luckily Jim had backed Jon one hundred percent. Neither his siblings nor his parents had projected their life goals and expectations on him and he was grateful for that. More grateful than ever, now that he understood how rare that was. Jon didn’t doubt Billy had done it out of love and concern for Maggie. But it broke his heart a little that she’d just given up.
The intercom on Billy’s phone buzzed. “Yes?”
“Jim said to tell his brother he wants to see him in his office when you’re done with him.”
“Will do, Dani. Thanks.” Billy cocked his head. “So we done?”
“Yep.” Jon got up and walked out. Straight to his car. Jim would be pissed he’d ignored him, but he’d deal with it later.
Right now he just needed to think.
Mid-afternoon, Jon’s cell rang. The call wasn’t from his brother, as he’d expected, but his agent. “Johnny-boy! How are ya, kid?”
Kid. Anyone under forty qualified as a kid in Marty Goldman’s world. “I’m all right. What’s up?”
“I’ll cut right to the chase. Someone from Indie Rock magazine was at Sapa’s show in Spearfish Saturday night.”
“Yeah? Why’s that matter?”
“Because she heard rumors that the band is going on hiatus indefinitely.”
Jon paced to the big window in the living area. “Not a rumor, Goldman, as you know.”
“That’s what I told her yesterday. So is it a coincidence that today I get a call from Darkly Dreaming’s management company? They’re auditioning drummers. They want to talk to you.”
“Whoa. Wait a damn second. I’m on hiatus too. Remember our conversation about me being tired of touring and having no life? That hasn’t changed.”
“Which I understand. But damn, kid, Darkly Dreaming is big time.”
“I don’t care. I’m burned out. I need this time off.”
An exasperated sigh echoed in his ear. “It’s almost been a month.”
“That’s the longest break I’ve had in years and it hasn’t been near long enough.” Jon rubbed his forehead against the impending headache. Did his agent understand him at all? Or did he just see dollar signs? “Tell them I appreciate their interest but no thanks.”
“That mean you don’t want to know who else is expressing interest in you?”
Fuck. Marty just had to dangle another carrot, didn’t he? “Who?”
“Push and Radioactive Tar are also auditioning drummers.”
Holy shit. He’d kill to work with Van Conner, who produced Push and had scored a Grammy on their last CD. Radioactive Tar was a group of studio musicians in Nashville that had a rotating roster of who’s who in music. Just making contact with any one of those bands could give a big boost to his music career.
But you’re taking a break, right?
“Kid? You still there?”
“Yeah. Just picking my jaw up off the floor.”
“I thought you might say that,” he said smugly. “But here’s the catch. All of them want to set it up for this week.”
Dammit. He had dance class with Raven in four hours. “Is there any way we can get it postponed for another week?”
“Nope. In fact, Push wants the meeting in Seattle tomorrow night.”
As much as he still needed a break from his hectic lifestyle, meeting with these bands wouldn’t be like touring and promoting. It would be about music. His music. No harm in hearing what they had to say, was there?
His artistic subconscious sneered at him for being fickle, accusing him of missing the rock-star life of fawning fans and fame. Throwing in a final jab about lying to himsel
f and everyone else about settling down.
But his practical side warned him opportunities like this didn’t come along every day and he’d be a fool to let it slip away.
The phone clunked. Paper rattled. Marty sighed. “I hate to pressure you, but my secretary says there’s one seat left on the nine o’clock flight to Denver tonight leaving out of Rapid. And the flight from Denver to Seattle puts you in Seattle around midnight.”
He’d figure out something to tell Raven—just as soon as he made sense of his decision himself. “That’ll work. Have your secretary book me at the Cooper Hotel in downtown Seattle.”
“Done. I’ll have her book your flights to L.A. and Nashville to meet with the other bands. Call me in the morning and I’ll give you all the details. But remember; keep a lid on this, kid.” Marty hung up.
Jon showered, packed and closed up his house, although he wouldn’t be gone more than a week. While getting ready, he’d come up with a possible solution to his dance class dilemma. Or at least, he had an idea who could help him. He paced while he was waiting for her assistant to ring him through.
The line clicked. “This is Eden Buchanan.”
“Knock, knock, knocking on Eden’s door…”
“Jon, you magnificent bastard. I miss you serenading me.”
“Doubtful, or you would’ve picked me over old what’s-his-face. Still… How is it you look more beautiful now that you’re knocked up? It pains me to admit you’ll always be the woman I let slip through my fingers. The gold standard that I hold all other women to.”
She laughed. “That sweet talking means one thing… What do you want?”
“A really big—and we’re taking huge—favor…”
Chapter Seven
The week had started out on a bad note and had gone downhill from there.
Maggie had ended up working extra time at the doctor’s office when they had a security breach with their server. She’d fixed it, but it was a pointed reminder that she missed the challenge of working in her field and not just killing time doing data entry.
Seth had been in a lousy mood all week, which hadn’t made rehearsing fun. When she called her BFF Sara, who was also Seth’s sister, to ask what was going on, Maggie ended up confessing her problems and the perplexing situation with Jon. She and Sara dissected it ten different ways and neither could come up with a plan besides to let it ride.
Maybe Maggie was a fool to think there was something there besides a few sexy looks, hot touches and stolen kisses, but that didn’t stop her from hoping she’d see him again, either in class or outside of it.
Right now, she had a bigger problem. She turned the key in the ignition one more time and heard nothing but clicks.
“Piece of shit car.” Maggie banged her fists on the steering wheel.
Of course it had to be pouring rain. Not the warm, summertime showers, which were a welcome relief after a scorching day. No, the wind blew so hard it shook her little car. The inside of the windows were so fogged up she could barely see her headlights.
That was a good sign, wasn’t it? That the headlights were working even if they were dim? When she reached forward to wipe off the condensation, she accidentally laid on the horn and spooked herself good.
Get a grip, Maggie.
She unplugged her cell phone from the car charger and groaned. Even her cell was dead. Looked like she had no choice but to go back into the gym and call a cab.
Just as she turned to open her car door, she noticed a hooded figure peering in her window. She screamed and scrambled into the passenger’s seat, thoughts of psychotic killers disabling cars in deserted parking lots running through her brain.
The door opened and the hooded figure’s head was inside the car. “Maggie? It’s me.”
“Jon? What are you—”
“I was driving by and I saw your car was still here. Is everything okay?”
“No. My car won’t start and I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”
“It’s pouring out here too damn hard for me to take a look.” He held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll get you home.”
Touching him released a pulse pounding rush of sexual awareness, and she knew by the dark look in his eyes he felt it too.
Maggie grabbed her stuff and made a mad dash for Jon’s vehicle, but she was still soaked to the skin when she climbed inside.
Jon shoved her bag in the backseat. “It’s a frog strangler out there, eh?”
She shivered. “I won’t complain because we need the rain, but doesn’t it just figure I’d have car trouble tonight.”
He reached over, letting his thumb sweep over her jawbone.
Maggie shivered harder, but she didn’t jerk away. “What?”
“You splashed mud on your face.”
“Thanks.” She stared at him. “You missed class this week.”
“I had to deal with band stuff.”
That was evasive.
“Raven didn’t tell you?”
“No, she was pretty enamored with her substitute partner.”
Jon frowned. “I would’ve called you directly to let you know but I didn’t have your number.”
Or you were avoiding me after that steamy kiss Saturday night and the run-in with my brother.
She waved him off. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. Look, Maggie—”
“Forget it. I’m tired, wet and I just want to go home. I do appreciate you rescuing me tonight, so thanks.”
“No problem.” Jon started the vehicle and paused at the parking lot exit. “Which way?”
“Left. I live out on Burner Road.”
Rain fell in sheets, so heavy at times Jon slowed to a crawl on the city streets. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen it rain this hard.”
Maggie peered out the side window. Water was running over the gutters and at least six inches of water covered the city streets. “Me either.”
“My brother would make a crack about the tribe’s rain dances finally working. I’ll bet the creek is running high.”
Creek. She hadn’t even thought about that. “Dammit.”
He shot her a glance. “What?”
“The only way to get to my place is over Burner Bridge and it crosses the creek.”
Jon pulled into a parking lot. “That’s a problem. Too dangerous to try and cross it now, either on foot or by car.”
She knew he was right, but that further limited her options. It’d be rude to show up and Billy and Eden’s place this late, without calling. Chances were high all the hotels were full since they were in the height of tourist season. Her friends lived in Rapid City.
“I know this puts you in a bind. So if you want, you can stay with me. I have an empty guest bedroom. Tomorrow morning I’ll bring you back and maybe I can figure out what’s wrong with your car.”
Alone. With Jon White Feather. All night. This would definitely be a test of willpower.
“If you’re worried I’m gonna tie you up with duct tape, call Eden and Billy so they know where you are.”
That conversation wouldn’t go well since Billy had already warned her off Jon. Plus, Maggie would be mortified to make the call—she was a thirty-two-year-old woman, not a sixteen-year-old girl reporting in that she was breaking curfew. “The phone call isn’t necessary. If you do decide to tie me up, I hope you use something besides duct tape. That gummy residue is a bitch to scrub off skin.”
He was shocked for a millisecond before he granted her that sexy smile. “Good to know.”
Ballroom Blitz Page 6