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Take Me With You

Page 7

by K. A. Linde


  I meandered back toward the stage when two chicks in way too much fucking heavy black makeup stopped me. Their tits were out on display in their too tight shirts, and I made the mistake of glancing down. Well, they were fucking out there, right?

  A smile crept up on one, and the other looked as if she was ready to pounce. “Hey,” one of them crooned.

  “What’s up?” I grunted.

  The girl on the right nudged her friend and giggled. “Uh…you’re Grant McDermott, right?”

  Whoa. I wasn’t fucking used to getting recognized at gigs that weren’t my own.

  “Yeah, we saw you at The Drift show on New Year’s. You were brilliant. That ‘Life Raft’ song. Oh my God.”

  “She listens to it on repeat,” the other girl cut in.

  “Well, thanks.”

  The first one was kind of hot in a trashy sort of way. Her friend looked a little more put together, but it was probably because she didn’t have as big of a rack as the first girl.

  I bet they’d be down for a threesome. Nah, maybe I’d just go with the first chick. She had some serious dick-sucking lips. Chick could probably suck a fucking golf ball through a garden hose.

  “So…are you guys here for the band?” I’d never made small talk to groupies before. It usually consisted of smile, smile, grope, fuck.

  “Yeah, we are,” she said, leaning into me and running her hand down my arm, “but if you want to get out of here—”

  “Sorry. I’m here with my girlfriend,” I tested the words out. They might have been the first time I’d ever officially said no or told a groupie I had a girlfriend.

  “She won’t mind,” the other girl said with a giggle.

  “You clearly don’t know my girlfriend.”

  Ari would murder them before being okay with me leaving with them.

  I scooted around them as Ari reappeared before me. She looked flustered.

  Her eyes landed on the two girls standing nearby, and she glared disapprovingly. They frowned and then scurried away.

  “That was my parents. My dad is coming into town this weekend for my birthday.”

  “And you’re upset about that?”

  “What? No. I miss my dad. It’ll be nice to see him.” She fidgeted and then cocked her head back toward the show. “Is that for me?” She grabbed a beer out of my hand and took a swig. “You want to get back to the band?”

  “Yeah, but are you going to tell me what the fuck has you upset?”

  She sighed and glanced down. “My parents got a letter in the mail from the health insurance company about my test work.”

  “Test work? Are you okay?”

  “Grant, I got a pregnancy test.”

  My body stopped functioning, and the music seemed to disappear. A pregnancy test? What the fuck! She couldn’t be pregnant.

  “No, no, no!” she said quickly. “I’m not pregnant. It was a routine exam. I, uh…got birth control,” she said.

  Her voice was so quiet during the last bit that I almost didn’t hear her.

  But when I puzzled it out, my face lit up. “That’s fucking great! Princess, that’s great news.”

  “Yeah, and well, Plan B after we had sex at the League.”

  “That’s good, too. I know I’m not fucking ready to have a kid. But why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I was worried you’d be angry that I wanted to get, um…STD tests.”

  “Are you fucking kidding? Do you know who I am? Do you know how many times I’ve been tested? And birth control! Fuck condoms.”

  “Grant,” she groaned, “we’re in public.”

  I picked her up around the middle and crushed her to me. “I don’t care where we are. This all sounds like great news to me.”

  She teetered when I set her back on her feet. “Yeah. I mean, not being pregnant is good, but uh…my parents got the insurance letter. Now, they’re asking questions. I didn’t want to have the I-lost-my-virginity talk over the phone on Valentine’s Day just because they read the medical insurance paperwork.”

  “How exactly did you want to have that talk?” I asked, amused.

  “Preferably, I never wanted to have that talk.”

  “Well, did you tell them about us then?”

  She cringed as if she had been waiting for this. With that reaction, she didn’t even have to answer. It was clear she still hadn’t told her parents we were dating or that she was even seeing anyone. Did they think she had fucked a stranger?

  “I know. I know. I should have said something, but it wasn’t the right time.”

  “Is there going to be a right time?”

  “Yes. Yes,” she said. She pulled me closer and stared me in the eyes. “I’ll tell my father next weekend when I see him. It’ll be better in person. I promise.”

  I would have laughed when I’d gotten the message from my father to meet him at Orchids in the city only two weeks after Grant and I had dined and ditched at the same restaurant, but I was too nervous.

  My father loved me fiercely. He’d always had high expectations for Aaron and me, but since I was three years younger, I felt the weight of his disapproval so much stronger. The thought of disappointing my father was debilitating. He never explicitly came out and said he wanted me to graduate with a practical degree and marry someone successful, like him, but he didn’t have to.

  And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried.

  I’d dated loser after loser, trying to force the feelings for the right guy. I hadn’t even known how sad that was until Grant.

  A smile touched my lips. I was going to tell my father about Grant tonight. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. What could he really do about it anyway?

  He’d probably call it a phase or something equally hurtful, but I had been dealing with that my whole life. This wasn’t a phase—for me or Grant. I didn’t need to prove anything to my father. I just needed to tell him, so I wouldn’t feel so guilty that my family didn’t know about Grant.

  After valeting my car at The Kimberly Hotel where my father had made a reservation for me, I took a cab over to Orchids. A weight sat in the pit of my stomach as the elevator carried me up to the restaurant.

  When the doors dinged open, the scent of orchids assaulted my senses. I sneezed twice as I walked over to the host. By chance, it happened to be the same one from the night I had been here with Grant. He looked at me as if he were trying to place how he knew me.

  Before he could figure it out, I spoke up, “Reservation for Graham.”

  He slightly shook his head to clear his thoughts and then plastered a smile on his face. “Right this way.”

  He directed me to a perfect booth in the corner. I saw my father’s smiling face as I approached. He was always so stern, but he looked so happy to see me. Then, everything seemed to slow down as I captured this one moment.

  My feet kept moving even though I realized someone else was in the booth with my father. He swiveled around in the booth. His blue eyes caught mine with that same predatory gaze I had come to associate with him.

  Henry.

  I stumbled a step in disbelief before righting myself. What the hell was he doing here?

  Henry stood from the table like a gentleman. He touched the small of my back as he gestured for me to take the seat next to him. “Aribel, it is so good to see you again.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but anything polite would be a lie. He looked handsome in a very expensive suit, but he also was only interested in me because my parents had arranged this entire thing.

  “Henry,” I sputtered, “what are you doing here?”

  “I’m here for your birthday, of course.” His smile widened. “Happy birthday.”

  “Thank you,” I said automatically.

  My eyes slid over to my father. He looked amused by the exchange.

  “Hello, Aribel. I knew you wouldn’t mind that I invited Henry to your birthday celebration.”

  End of discussion.

  I closed off th
e retort I had in mind. My father wouldn’t care to hear what I had to say. He would have invited Henry against my protest. If he wanted Henry to be here, then he would get his way.

  The only problem I foresaw was that I hadn’t intended on telling my father about Grant in front of anyone else. I was already nervous enough. Having another witness wasn’t making that any better. Of course, I’d told Henry I had a boyfriend when he kissed me earlier this year, so he already knew, but it was still awkward, considering my family was trying to set me up with him.

  “I didn’t realize Henry would be in the city with you,” I said as I slid into the booth.

  Henry sat next to me.

  “Well, we’re celebrating more than your birthday tonight, Aribel. Henry received a promotion,” my father said.

  “Congratulations,” I muttered.

  “He’s a very promising employee, doing really well for himself.”

  “Thank you, Jim,” Henry replied. “I’m happy to be a part of the company.”

  “We should have a toast.” My father gestured for the waiter to come over, and he ordered champagne for the table.

  Once the waiter delivered the champagne and it was in hand, he raised his glass. “To my Aribel’s birthday and Henry’s promotion!”

  “Cheers,” I whispered, lifting my glass and clinking it against my dad’s and Henry’s before taking a sip.

  After we ordered our dinner, I plucked up the courage to interrupt their conversation about banking. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but I had promised Grant.

  “Um…Dad?”

  My father tore his attention from whatever Henry was saying to look at me. “Yes, Aribel?”

  “I wanted to tell you I’m sort of seeing someone,” I said in a rush.

  He looked between Henry and me, and then he let loose a short boisterous laugh. “You don’t have to be afraid to tell me. Aaron let it slip a couple of weeks ago. Your mother and I are thrilled by the idea.”

  “You are?” I asked dumbly. Then, my mind caught up with me. Aaron.

  Aaron thought I was seeing Henry…that I had slept with Henry.

  “Of course. Henry is a great match. Just the kind of person I would entrust with my only daughter.”

  “Right.” The words caught in my throat. The kind of person, as in successful, wealthy, highly educated—not someone in a rock band, who had slept with half the state of New Jersey, who had a father who had been in jail for thirteen years.

  Anger flared inside of me. How fucking elitist to say something like that!

  Grant was a good person who loved and cared about me. Just because he wasn’t like Henry, who had honestly been more willing to sleep with me and then forget about me, didn’t mean he wasn’t the right guy for me—or even that we couldn’t date and find out.

  “Actually, it’s not Henry,” I said boldly. “I didn’t mean to give Aaron the wrong impression, but Henry and I aren’t together.” I gestured between us.

  Henry kept an amused look on his face as if he liked watching me squirm.

  A storm cloud rolled in over my father’s face. “I thought, with the insurance paperwork your mother received—”

  “Dad, please,” I groaned. How could he bring that up in front of Henry?

  “Is he a Princeton student? Did you meet him in class? What is his major?”

  “God, the third degree,” I muttered. “No, he’s not a student. He, uh…works in a recording studio.”

  Henry scoffed next to me and then tried to hide it by taking another drink from the champagne. My father just looked increasingly more frustrated with the conversation.

  “Is this some kind of phase? You know your brother went through something similar before he met Sarah.”

  I distinctly remembered Aaron with his arm around some random girl when we had gone out over Christmas break. If he’d had a phase, it didn’t seem to be over.

  “It’s not a phase!”

  “Aribel,” my father said sharply, “we’re in a public place. Why don’t we discuss this at another time?”

  “Fine.”

  All I’d wanted to do was be honest with my family about my relationship with Grant. I’d known it was going to go down like this. I’d told Grant it wasn’t going to be easy. But then again, I hadn’t promised him that my parents would accept him. I’d just said that they would know he existed. Now, they knew.

  With the conclusion of our meal, I stood and followed my father and Henry out of the room. I’d secretly hoped my father would want to stick around and do something together, like maybe go ice-skating in Central Park, but I could already tell he was all business.

  “It was good to spend some quality time with my baby girl,” my father said. He kissed the top of my forehead and then handed me a box. “Happy birthday.”

  My eyes lit up with surprise. I tipped open the box, and my mouth dropped open. Inside was a small platinum ring with a string of diamonds around the band that decreased in size from the center. “Oh my God! Is this mom’s ring?”

  He smiled, but there was something under the surface. “Our original engagement ring. Yes.”

  My father had replaced my mother’s ring many times over the years. They had gotten more and more extravagant as the years went by, but I always coveted the very first ring.

  “Your mother and I thought it was appropriate for you to have something befitting the woman you are turning into.”

  I slipped it out of the box and onto my right hand. It shined brilliantly, and it made my heart ache. Staring at the ring made me miss them.

  Then, unexpectedly, the sight of it on my finger made my stomach flip. Would I one day wear a ring like this from Grant? I was way too young to think about marriage. I needed to finish school and probably get a good job before I ever saw wedding bells in my future, but still, the glittering ring did make me wonder, if even for a moment.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, giving my dad a hug.

  “You’re welcome. Now, I have to meet one more colleague tonight before I can get back to the hotel.”

  “I’ll get her home, sir,” Henry said.

  “Good man,” my father said, clapping him on the back. “Take care of my baby girl.”

  There was no way I wanted Henry to take me home. I was turning twenty this week. I could get myself around New York City. It wasn’t as if I was staying in a sketchy part of town. My father had gotten me a suite at The Kimberly after all.

  My father lightly squeezed my shoulder. “Let’s have brunch at Norma’s tomorrow, sweetheart. We can talk more before I leave the city.”

  I sagged and nodded. “Okay, Dad.”

  With that, he turned and left the restaurant, no good-bye necessary. I swallowed back my rising anger. This was not the night I had bargained for.

  “Come on. I’ll hail a cab.” Henry pressed his hand against my lower back and guided me outside.

  “Really, I’m fine. I can get there by myself.” I pulled away from his hand and walked to the elevator.

  Henry followed me with a smirk. “So, this guy you’re seeing, is it the same one you forgot to mention on New Year’s?”

  “I don’t really want to talk about this with you,” I said.

  “All right.”

  They got into the elevator, and it let us out on the bottom floor. Despite my annoyance, Henry hailed a cab.

  “I can do that.”

  “I’m sure you’re capable, but I wanted to do it for you.” He opened the door for me.

  I turned to look at him before I got inside. “You can catch the next one.”

  He smiled smugly and leaned forward into me. “Then, how am I going to give you your birthday present?”

  I leaned away from him to deter him from doing anything drastic, like kissing me. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Trust me. You’ll like it.”

  “Are we moving or what?” the taxi driver yelled at us.

  “You heard the man,” Henry said, helping me into the cab.
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  “Where to?” the cabbie asked.

  “The Kimberly Hotel, please.”

  “Beacon Theatre,” Henry corrected.

  “What? Why are we going to Beacon?”

  From his jacket pocket, Henry produced a pair of concert tickets and passed them over to me.

  I looked down at the tickets, and my stomach turned. “You got us tickets to see The Drift?”

  The flashy bright sign outside of Beacon Theatre on Broadway glared down at me. I glared back.

  This was the last fucking place I wanted to be tonight. But I’d agreed. I’d made a deal with the devil, only for it to be thrown back in my face. Hollis had been the connection I used to get Ari and me into that snooty restaurant on Valentine’s Day. All the good that had done me. Even though it hadn’t worked out how I had intended, I still had to keep up my end of the bargain.

  That meant I had to walk backstage with the rest of the guys and hear Hollis out.

  “Come on, bro,” Miller said, clapping me on the back. “Showtime.”

  I wished we were playing this fucking venue tonight. The Drift had sold out the theatre for the evening on the kickoff of their new tour for their album that had dropped last week. It had soared into the Top Ten on the Billboard charts. As much as I wanted to hate them for it, the music was good, and Donovan’s lyrics were better than ever.

  I followed the rest of the band backstage and navigated through the controlled chaos. They had a crew that clearly knew how to run this place like a well-oiled machine.

  A pretty brunette in a short skirt gave me a once-over as we passed by. Her friend nudged her forward, and they both broke down into giggles.

  Fans, not groupies. It was strange to notice a difference. Before Ari, I’d have probably lured her in. It would have been so fucking simple, too. Now, I just turned my back on the girl I would have had on her back in about ten seconds.

  Hollis stood at the end of a hall, talking to some Asian chick in a pantsuit. She looked pissed and not caught up in his charm like every other fucking person around him. His eyes lifted from the woman as we walked down the hallway and landed on me. I couldn’t tell if his smile was relief or smugness that I’d shown up. I clenched my fists at my sides and resisted the urge to knock the smile off his overconfident fucking face.

 

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