by Jess Bentley
“You liked singing ‘Hey Jude,’ but you were restraining yourself, barely humming, worried about what everyone else would think.” Rory tried to maintain a straight face, but she was surprised at how easily he had read her. He smirked again as he studied her, his gaze flickering briefly to her mouth.
“Nothing like that,” she said. Arsen didn’t reply, just sat there in a strong posture. The air in the room seemed to change, and Arsen seemed much more relaxed to her.
“I mean, not many people would dare to do that in a room full of professional musicians,” she added.
“Why would you want to be many people? Why not be different than others?” His words hit home. All her life she had tried to be herself, but unknowingly she had drifted sideways to become one of the herd.
“If everyone is going one way, turn around and walk in the opposite direction,” he asserted. That is so true, Rory thought.
“Who’s that quote from?” she inquired. He just smiled slightly as if that explained it all. Even when he said nothing, his presence was enormous.
“That piano hasn’t been played in a while.” He turned to look at the instrument.
“How would you know?” she challenged.
“Musician’s intuition.” He sat back with his legs spread wide, powerful arms hanging to the sides.
“Hasn’t been played since my grandmother passed away,” she said quietly.
“Ah. Sorry about that.”
They sat silently for a minute as Rory wondered why she’d brought that up. Thankfully he broke the uncomfortable silence.
“You never play it?”
“Me? No.” She laughed. “I used to, when I was little, as I sat in my grandmother’s lap, but I guess I didn’t have it in me to pursue it.”
“Nonsense. We all have music within us. I can bet you twenty bucks that I can have you playing a song in ten minutes.” He tilted back his head with confidence.
“Oh c’mon. I am as unmusical as they come.”
“I don’t believe you.” He squinted his dark eyes mischievously.
“You don’t believe something I know about myself?” she challenged him.
“Why don’t we find out?” He got up and extended his hand to her. Talk about overconfidence. Rory suppressed her smile and just walked toward the piano instead of taking his hand. She could feel him beaming behind her back. He grabbed a candle stand from the side table and put it on top of the piano.
As she sat on the piano bench, Arsen leaned over her. She was unprepared for the potency of feeling him so close to her. The distance between them was tempting, the space between them warmed by the heat of their bodies. Arsen’s scent, a combination of cologne, leather, and something more, overpowered her senses, waking up a long-forgotten desire in her body. She was yanked back from her thoughts by the sound of his soft baritone voice.
“I’ll teach you a song that everyone knows. One of the simplest ones to play. Okay?” He looked at her and his eyes were kind, looking for affirmation. She nodded.
“I am going to hit one key at a time. Just do your best to remember which keys I hit, is all.” In the light of the candle that he had brought over, she could see the keys much more clearly. Arsen started hitting the notes slowly, and it was then that she realized that he was playing “Amazing Grace,” her grandmother’s favorite. How did he know? She stared at him with wide eyes.
“Eyes on the keys,” Arsen said, without looking away from the piano, and Rory sheepishly looked down. Arsen played it for her a few times more and Rory was surprised that after a few tries, she was able to play the first verse of the song completely, even if she did so with only one finger.
“Congrats! Now you know the main melody of the song. But if you are to play it properly, you need to learn the chords.” He smiled a warm smile.
“I can’t believe I just played that.” Rory shook her head in amazement.
“Wasn’t so difficult, now, was it?” he said, as he walked back to the sofa. Rory followed. Why did he play “Amazing Grace”? It was too coincidental to ignore.
“It wasn’t difficult at all. You were right,” Rory admitted with some difficulty, but still got no response from Arsen. He poured some more wine in their glasses.
“Thank you for letting me stay here for the night. I really appreciate it.” There was weariness in his eyes, and for the first time, he actually sounded grateful.
“It was nothing,” she replied. “I would have done that for anyone.”
“Yes, but you did that for me and for that I am thankful. I apologize if I came across as arrogant. I wasn’t in the best of moods.” His apology wasn’t sheepish. He took full responsibility for his behavior and that surprised Rory, who had written him off as just another cocky, arrogant celebrity.
“Yes, you were.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them, but Arsen only broke into a laugh.
“Good-looking and honest. I like that in a woman,” he said. That slight smile now was turning into a wide grin. He finds me good-looking? Rory tried to envision how she must look in that moment. Heck, she hadn’t even taken a bath since she had woken up.
“I bet you say that to every girl you meet,” she replied.
“Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I called someone honest.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t you say that there is a lack of honest people in the world?” he asked. Rory instantly thought about her sister and her future husband and how badly they wanted to take over this house and make this a holiday home for their perfect little American life. Yes indeed, not many honest people around anymore.
“This is a great house you got here,” Arsen continued when Rory didn’t come up with a reply. “The acoustics are phenomenal. If this house were mine I’d make a studio here.”
But it is not, she said in her mind, feeling like a possessive brat.
“It is a beautiful house, yes. Belonged to my grandmother.”
“I’ve already asked Don to call a guy to fix that wall I broke last night.” An apologetic look came upon his face. “I’m sure he’s going to get the best guy available and it will look as good as new… or as good as the old one.”
He’s really not as bad as I thought he was. Rory wondered if her opinion of him was being influenced by his rugged good looks or if he truly was the gentleman that he seemed to be in that moment.
“That would be nice. I’m very protective of this house and don’t like it being damaged,” she retorted. Arsen poured some red wine in both of their glasses that were sitting empty. He downed his in one quick swig, making Rory chuckle. His eyes met Rory’s as he put his glass down.
“I know this isn’t the way to drink wine. There are people who can tell the difference between a thousand-dollar bottle and a bottle of cheap wine, but I bet they’re all talking out of their asses. Screw them, I say.” He shrugged, making Rory laugh. He isn’t such bad company after all.
“Cheers to that.” Rory took her glass, drank it in one swig as well, and slammed it on the table. “There!’
“Bravo!” Arsen clapped. “I like a woman who can hold a drink.” And he started pouring more wine into their glasses.
“What? Are you trying to get me drunk?” She feigned shock.
“Do you have somewhere else you need to be?” Arsen shrugged again. Not at all, Rory mumbled to herself.
It was cute the way he shrugged and looked at her in so innocently, as if there were nothing wrong about drinking at noon. He looked more reachable, less perfect, and extremely appealing.
“You know, you’re right. This rainstorm doesn’t look like it will end anytime soon.” Rory paused to listen to the sounds of the thunder that were coming in intermittently.
“The longer the merrier.” His lips parted and he stared intently into her eyes. Rory could feel her heartbeat pumping. Is he flirting with me? She could tell a look when she got one. A moment passed between them, and for the next few, neither said anything. His presence filled her with a delicious fascination that brought with
it warmth. The kind of warmth she never thought she’d feel from a man again.
“So you’re a real rockstar, huh?” She quickly tried to change the topic. What a stupid thing to say, she cringed to herself. Arsen paused to ponder over the question for a bit.
“It is the role I have to play sometimes to put bread on the table, but in reality, I’m just a guy who wants to play guitar and write songs.”
Bread on the table? My ass. He probably has his bread made by some fancy European chef or something, she thought.
“Interesting. Your friends seem to enjoy their stardom thoroughly though.” The image of the obnoxious Mickey Nicks came into her mind.
“Everyone handles fame differently. They have their ways and I have mine.” She could tell that Arsen was slightly uncomfortable talking about his bandmates. Rory wondered if like most successful bands, they also had some sort of a feud going on.
“Just like everyone has their own troubles too.” Rory pursed her lips, her own worries threatening to invade her mind.
“I hear ya! Troubles come, but they also go. Cheers to that.” Arsen raised his glass and again gulped the wine in one go.
When will my troubles go? Rory wondered. Her mind instantly went back to the fact that she hadn’t even opened the bookstore today or checked how many online sales she had made. Well, no one’s gonna come to the bookstore in this rain for sure.
“A penny for your thoughts.” Arsen raised his eyebrows.
“It would take a lot more than a penny for that.” It was her turn to smirk now.
“How about a song instead?” he said softly.
“That would work.” Eyes locked, they both were struggling to keep the smiles off their faces. Arsen was about to move to the piano when Lizzy, Mickey, and Sam entered.
“Lunch is served!” Mickey exclaimed as Sam started arranging the bowls on the table. Lizzy quickly started arranging the plates, and soon enough the rest of the party had been called back too.
The fare was not elaborate, but plentiful and tasty. Sam had used ingredients in her kitchen to cook up spaghetti, fresh pesto, and had also added garlic butter to the bakery bread she had lying in the kitchen. With the food ready on the table, everyone realized how famished they were. Before they furiously dug in, Mickey had to take pictures of the food for his Instagram. It took a lot of effort for Rory not to roll her eyes.
Halfway through the meal, Rory realized how long it had been since this room had seen so many people sitting and happily eating together. She couldn’t even recall the last time they had a dinner party in here.
Strangely, she was liking this. A bunch of people sitting in her house, singing, dancing, laughing, and eating to their heart’s content. It made her feel warm and fuzzy, even though she didn’t know these people well.
After the lunch, Sam and Lizzy cleaned up the mess that was created and for once, Rory was happy that she didn’t have to clean up after herself. While she didn’t mind it for the most part, doing chores like this every day and having no one to help got to her at times. How she wished she could hire a cleaning service every now and then.
“The storm is as good as gone,” Don remarked as he came back into the room after having a post-lunch smoke outside. “We better get going.”
“All right!” Mickey clapped his hands. “Let's get moving, people. Chop chop!” He reacted as if he were being freed from jail.
“It was so nice to meet you, Mickey. I hope to see you again.” Lizzy was sad that he was leaving. If she could, she would’ve followed him.
“Sure you will, honey. Tell you what, I’ll give you my private number so we can stay in touch.” Mickey winked.
Something feels predatory about him.
“And hey, don’t forget to follow my Instagram, @Mickey.”
“I already do, Mickey.” Lizzy was a deer in the headlights of Mickey Nicks’s leer.
He’s probably giving her some fake number to brush her off, thought Rory. The others had already started trickling out of the room, muttering polite thanks. Arsen was the last one to hop out, trying to be careful with his injured ankle.
“I hope you feel better soon,” Rory said as they walked out to the back gate. Arsen just smiled, his dimples distracting her from her thoughts.
“I guess that song will just have to wait another day,” he said, referring to their conversation earlier.
“I guess it will have to.” She smiled. Stop flirting with him! she told herself sternly.
“This is it, then…” They’d already reached the gate and Arsen was preparing to say his goodbye.
“Rory, I’d like to thank you again for the help. I appreciate it,” he said, offering his hand. This time she took it and heat rushed through her body from the strength of his contact. For a moment she felt nervous at the thought that he might engulf her in a hug, but he didn’t. Much to her dismay.
“Don’t mention it. You be on your way and go do whatever it is that you rockstars do,” she replied. Go be on your way, who the hell says that?
Arsen just smiled that dimpled smile and turned around to get into Don’s car.
Rory and Lizzy stood by the back gate, watching the fancy cars zoom away and with that, the little party that had been so much fun came to an abrupt halt. They both walked back into the house and prepared to open the bookshop for the day. Neither wanted to and for both of them, the house seemed far too empty.
9
Two sales and a single drawn-out sigh. Yet again, Rory was at a loss as to why the damnable T-shirts weren’t selling. Even at her most critical, she judged herself a good artist. She put a lot of work and love into what she did and yet, the products refused to move off the shelves.
If she was to have any chance of paying off the property bills, she needed sales and a lot of them. Rory carefully packaged the two T-shirts that had sold yesterday for shipping. She had more than fifty of these still in stock. At least a hundred more of many other designs lay in the basement too.
Lizzy had suggested putting up a stall by the beach and selling these for a discount, but Rory just didn’t have it in her. She wasn’t a hustler; never had been.
The whole idea was to sell the stuff on the internet, where people could judge her art in their own sweet time. So far it had barely worked. For the hundredth time, Rory redid the math. Same old numbers appeared in her head like unwanted old school friends at a ten-year reunion. Uncomfortable.
“I am starved,” Lizzy remarked as she finished filing her nails. It was close to midday and Rory had already been contemplating closing the bookshop for lunch. No walk-ins yet.
“Do you think this new color looks good? I hope Mickey likes it when I meet him.” Rory wasn’t sure if Lizzy really asked a question or if she was talking out loud to herself. It wasn’t a surprise to her that Lizzy had been talking nonstop about the band, especially Mickey. Lizzy considered getting Mickey’s number a serious achievement. She really did expect to go out with him again. Rory didn’t have it in her to tell her otherwise.
When she noticed Lizzy staring at her with an eyebrow raised, she realized that the question was indeed for her.
“It looks nice. Everything looks nice on you, hon.” She smiled gently. “Don’t worry about what Mickey or anyone else thinks. As long as you like it, it’s all good.”
“Yeah…” Lizzy paused in contemplation. “But I still hope he likes it. He’s so sweet and talented and oh my God…so hot!” She exclaimed. “My God! I still cannot believe it. Me and Mickey Nicks!” And Lizzy was off to fantasy land again. Rory saw no point in arguing.
“Why don’t you go home and grab some lunch. I’ll see you back here in a couple of hours or so. I’ve got some errands to run. ”
A couple of days passed since the eventful afternoon with the band. A couple of days since the love story of Lizzy and Mickey had begun, in Lizzy’s own head at least.
Rory was shy to admit to herself that she had been thinking about Arsen as well. She found it strange at first as she had ne
ver been attracted to celebrities like Arsen, but she figured that this was why rockstars were so popular and had hundreds of women lining up for them. They were charmers and knew how to make people fall for them.
She wondered if Arsen’s ankle was any better, whether he and Mickey had gotten into a big fight, and whether Arsen’s car was fixed yet. If nothing else, at least these thoughts had taken her mind off her sister’s wedding and all the stress that came with it.
While waiting at the shipping company’s office, she randomly decided to check out Mickey Nicks’s Instagram. She had been curious if he had put up any pics of her house. Rory had stopped checking her own Instagram long ago as she barely had any followers and all the pictures from the awesome lives of people she knew just got her down.
Mickey’s Instagram had tons of pictures taken in the last few days. He had put a picture of him in her grandmother’s living room with the caption Haunted House. He’d also put up a picture of the food they ate and claimed to have cooked it himself. Haunted house? Didn’t take much for her to be infuriated at this man.
Forget it, Rory, not your headache, she reminded herself. It’s not like I have to meet any of those guys ever again.
Rory took a deep breath and felt the fresh air enter her lungs. It had rained a little that morning and everything felt so clean. The roads, the trees, and even the air that surrounded her. Once done with the shipping, she leisurely cruised around in her station wagon with no hurry to get anywhere on time. On a whim, decided to visit Martha at the bakery. One can never have enough cupcakes in the house.
A smile came upon her face as she saw the old bakery sign that Martha had carried over to her new location. Childhood memories of cycling with her grandmother to fetch goodies from Martha’s bakery came rushing back into her mind. Grandma Colleen was strict and no matter how much Rory begged, she would not let her have sweet stuff. That was only reserved for Sundays.
You won’t find your Prince Charming if all your teeth fall out, she used to say. She’d then hand Rory the money and let her pay Martha, something Rory loved doing as it made her feel like an adult. Martha, for her part, would always sneak in an extra sweet bread or an eclair for Rory, knowing that Colleen was unlikely to hold out once the bubbly child started making cute faces.