One More Night #3: Backstage Pass #3

by Ali Parker

  "What's that for?" I asked Destitute's former manager.

  Unlike myself, Gerry looked like he'd gotten a great night of sleep and was dressed in one of his four-thousand-dollar suits. "It's for you. Figured you probably wanted to get out of here as soon as you could. Destitute’s broken up, which means you're a free agent again. It was a pleasure working with you, Ms. Diamond, but it's time for both of us to move on."

  If I'd ever needed proof that Gerry didn't care about the talent, the music, or anything but the money, I had it now. The man had been working with the band for years, but he didn't look like he had a care in the world.

  "Not yet," I told him, squaring my shoulders with determination I didn't feel. He might be prepared to pack it all in, literally considering the box, but I wasn't.

  Gerry frowned and set the box down on my paper-laden desk. "What are you talking about?"

  "I need you to give me one more week. I will get things back on track." As unlikely as it was, I had to try. If not for me, then for the rest of the guys in Destitute.

  Nick Masters, Matt Tillman, and Dominic LeSalle, the base and rhythm guitarists and drummer of the band respectively had all been to see me in these last couple of days and seemed to think I could somehow turn this around.

  Why they had so much faith in me instead of simply speaking to their surrogate brother, I didn't know. All they said was they understood why Jared was worried, but that he wouldn't listen to them right now. They seemed to hold the opinion I might be able to get through to him.

  Frustration flowed hot through my veins, but I pushed it back and focused on a confused Gerry instead. His eyes squinted as they searched mine. "Get things back on track? How? What's done is done."

  "I don't think it is. I've managed to keep this out of the press. I just need some time to make it right." If only I knew how.

  I didn't let my uncertainty show, though. I’d made a promise to the guys that I would try, and I kept my promises. Come hell or high water, I had to at least try.

  Gerry sighed and flashed me what I was pretty sure was supposed to be a sympathetic smile. "I like your persistent attitude, Alicia. I respect it even, but I don't think it's going to make a damn lick of difference. I know Jared, and his stubborn mind is made up at this point. I don't think he does, but even if he did doubt his decision, his pride would stand in the way of him letting the band get back together."

  It was true that Gerry had known Jared longer than I had, but I didn't think he knew him better than I did. Who Gerry knew was the Emperor of Rock, the arrogant and cocky persona Jared played to the world. I knew Jared Larsen, the man behind the mask.

  Or at least I thought I did.

  Gerry was right that Jared was a stubborn ass, but I didn't think he was right about the pride thing this time. It wasn't pride that had driven him to do what he did or that was keeping the band apart.

  It was his love and sense of responsibility for his brother's well-being that made him call things off. I also believed the human part of him had seen the very human consequences of their actions, even if they had been elevated to godlike status in recent years by the fans.

  They weren't gods. They were men, and they'd been living in a way that had killed many before them and would kill many after. Jared just didn't want to get caught in the crossfire. Or maybe he did, but he wouldn't let it happen to the others.

  I couldn't tell Gerry any of this, though. He wouldn't believe me even if I did, and Jared would probably kill me if we ever spoke again only for him to find out I'd confided these things to Gerry.

  "I know he’s stubborn, but I have a plan."

  Gerry lifted his eyebrows as if he was saying, "let's hear it." Since I didn't really have a plan, I pretended not to notice and hit the spacebar on my computer keyboard to wake it up.

  He narrowed his eyes again and then shook his head and started walking toward the door. "I wish you the best of luck then. We'll talk again soon."

  He closed the door behind him and as soon as I heard it click into place, I sagged back in my chair and rubbed my tired eyes. Gerry might have been sleeping well, but I certainly wasn't.

  I hadn't gotten one decent night's sleep since New York when I'd been sleeping in Jared’s arms. At first, it was worry for Caleb and strategizing over what to do if the story broke that kept me awake at night and then it was Jared's lack of communication.

  In the weeks since his apocalyptic return, it'd been difficult to avoid what felt like the apocalypse on both a personal and professional level keeping me up. Last night, when I finally managed to fall asleep, I dreamed of the band and everyone in and around it asking me what to do now.

  I’d jerked awake so fast, I nearly gave myself whiplash.

  In the case of the band, it was easy to imagine what the voices might sound like when they asked "what now" because they'd already been asking me all week.

  Staring at my closed office door after Gerry left, I knew I needed a plan. A good one.

  I drummed my fingers on a small open patch of glass on my desk and considered my options. Jared wasn't taking my calls, and though my heart was begging me to go and see him, I doubted he would let me into his house. He hadn't been pictured in or around town, so my best assumption was that he hadn't left his property all that often. If at all.

  Trying to corner him at the gym or out and about was therefore not an option. If I couldn't pretend to run into him, couldn't get into his house, and couldn't talk to him over the phone, I needed another way to get to him.

  Before I moved into this office, someone had framed a picture of Destitute at the first awards ceremony they'd attended and hung it on the wall. My eyes drifted to the picture as I thought, and to the joyful, disbelieving, wide-eyed guys in it. You wouldn't say it if you didn't know them, but I could see the pride and excitement radiating from them in that picture.

  Usually, I spent most of my time while looking at any photograph of them fixated mostly on Jared. This time my eyes fell to the man on his right. So similar in appearance and yet so different, Caleb looked every bit as full of joy as the rest of them in that photo.

  It hit me then that I was looking at my answer. Why hadn't I thought of him before?

  Caleb.

  This had all started because of him. Maybe, just maybe, it could end with him too.

  I had my phone in my hand and was dialing Caleb's number before I could second-guess myself. My heart hammered and skipped a beat when he answered after only a few rings.

  "Alicia?" Surprise made his voice an octave higher than I was used to. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you. What's up?"

  "What's up? Don't play dumb, Caleb. You know why I'm calling."

  He let out a deep sigh and paused for a second before replying. "Yeah, I guess I do. You want me to talk to Jared about this whole breaking up the band thing. You should know I've already tried. He's not budging on this one."

  "Actually." I hesitated and cleared my throat. Having called him so fast, I hadn't really thought about what I wanted to ask him. "If you've tried and failed, then maybe I should try talking to him."

  Caleb chuckled, a low deep sound that seemed devoid of any humor. "Be my guest. You may be the only one he would listen to about all of this, but you wouldn't be calling me unless you needed me to make it happen."

  "You're right. I need your help." I nearly choked on the words. Asking for help wasn't something I was used to doing, but desperate times and all that.

  "You got it," Caleb replied. "If you think he’ll listen to you, and that helps us get the band back together, I'll do whatever you need me to do."

  I wasn't expecting him to agree so readily, but when he did, I realized he wanted the band back as much as the others. I nearly burst out crying with relief. If Jared really was the only one wanting to leave the band behind, I stood a real chance of getting it back together.

  He was only one out of five, after all.

  Encouraged, I pressed on. "I need you to help me get him somewhere so I can
talk to him."

  "Text me when and where, and I'll make sure he's there," he said and then sighed. "Maybe just give me some advance notice so I can get him ready. And Alicia?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm trusting you to get through to him. He's going to be pissed as hell about the setup unless you manage to convince him he's overreacting about all this."

  Great. Just what I needed, more pressure to fix this. Nodding even though he couldn't see me, I closed my eyes and hoped I wasn't lying. "I won't let you down."

  3

  Jared

  "Yo, hermit," Caleb said when I answered the phone. "Want to meet me for dinner tonight?"

  "No." I didn't need to think about it. There was a reason I was staying in my house. Lying low and taking it easy didn't include dealing with the possibility of getting mobbed by fans, being chased by the paparazzi, or any number of things that might happen to us in public.

  It wasn't technically me who was under orders to take it easy, but just like with the alcohol thing, I was doing it to make it easier for Caleb.

  "Have you become agoraphobic or something?"

  "You learned a new word. I'm proud of you." So, I hadn't left the house in about a week. I wasn't scared to leave, I just wasn't in the mood to deal with the fallout if I did.

  "I was recently reminded not to play dumb," he replied cheerfully, though I had no idea why he suddenly sounded so happy. "So I've decided to use the big words for now. What's it gonna be, big bro? The way I see it, you have two choices."

  "And what are those?"

  "You can either meet me for dinner out of your own free will, or I'll come to your house and drag you out. I would prefer if you would just meet me, but if you want to make this difficult for both of us, then that's okay too."

  "What if I set the security alarm and lock you out? You might only see two choices, but I see that as a third."

  "You could, but since I was there when your security was installed, I know all your codes. Plus, since you wanted to buy such an open property because 'why would you hide from the fans,' it's not like you can really lock me out. I have keys."

  He had me there.

  Not for the first time this year, I vaguely regretted my decision to buy a property that wasn't completely fenced off and gated. Fences and gates sure would have come in handy right about now. I was definitely starting to understand the appeal.

  "Fine. Dinner it is, but this better not be about you trying to change my mind again."

  "It's not," Caleb said, too quickly for me to trust his denial.

  Before I could question it, however, he was firing off plans into the phone and then hung up. A few hours later, I showered, got dressed, and headed to the restaurant he'd mentioned.

  I wasn't surprised that he'd chosen a low-key place not known to have paparazzi hanging around, but I was surprised to walk in and find not Caleb waiting for me inside, but Alicia.

  Stopping in my tracks, my eyes narrowed. I'd been set up. Caleb wasn't here, probably wasn't coming, and while I'd been avoiding Alicia's calls, it seemed he hadn't been.

  She jumped up as soon as she saw me, fidgeting with her fingers as she implored me with her eyes from across the room to join her, to not turn around and walk away.

  I was rooted in place, captivated by her royal blue gaze in the flickering candlelight coming off tables around her. The room was small and intimate enough that I could make out her eyes even though she hadn’t moved from her table. Or maybe it was just because I knew so well what they looked like.

  She looked stunning, but she always did to me. It could’ve been because I hadn't seen her in so long, but she seemed to have gotten even more beautiful since I'd last seen her in Gerry's office the day I'd walked away from it all.

  She'd pulled her golden hair back tonight into a sleek, thick ponytail that I could immediately picture wrapping around my wrist as I fucked her, but I could just as easily also imagine undoing it to see her waves fanned out on my pillow while she slept. Wearing a black dress and heels that would make her tall enough that I'd be able to kiss her without bending over too far, she looked exactly as drop-dead gorgeous as she'd been in all of those dreams I'd been having about her.

  With the extra height added by her heels, pulling her against my chest and resting my chin on her head would have been so easy. I wanted it more than I wanted my next breath, but that wasn't happening. She'd tricked me into this meeting, along with my very own brother. Difficult as it was, I tore my eyes away from her and turned to leave.

  Seconds later, a small hand was closing around my bicep, and the next, Alicia was standing in front of me. Her eyes were blazing with an interesting mixture of anger, determination, hope, and longing.

  "I'm sorry I asked Caleb to trick you. This is my fault, not his, but I needed him to get you to dinner so I could talk to you."

  "I'm done talking. He's wasting his time, and so are you." Flipping the switch on the Emperor persona to get me through leaving her behind again, I flashed her the smirk I knew she hated. "If you’re interested in not talking, however, I can think of plenty of things to do to keep your mouth busy instead."

  Alicia flinched as if my words physically hurt her, and the corners of her mouth turned down. I had to give it to her, though, she didn't give up. "You can give me that cocky bullshit all you like. I can see what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work."

  Lifting my chin, I let my eyes take a leisurely trip all the way down to her red-soled heels and grabbed her hands to tug her closer to me when I looked back into her eyes." Yeah? Is that a challenge?"

  Her lips were slightly parted and her breathing uneven, but otherwise, she didn't let it show that being this close to me was affecting her as much as it was affecting me. I even had the distinct feeling that if my hands weren't holding hers, she would have slapped me by now.

  "It's not a challenge. I just want to talk to you." She changed tactics then, leaning in against me with her blue eyes turning soft. "We are already here, aren't we? Stay for dinner. It's on me."

  A lame, tacky comeback about how I could be on her instead crossed my mind, but as I looked down into those eyes, I couldn't bring myself to cheapen the moment that way. Alicia didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve any of this.

  My decision to break up the band affected so many people outside of us, none of whom were at fault for our lifestyle choices. Alicia was one of those people. If anything, she'd been good to us. And for us.

  "Okay," I agreed reluctantly. Having dinner with her and letting her go afterward was going to be difficult, my own, personal brand of torture, but I deserved it. She didn't. "What's good here?"

  Visibly relieved, Alicia's shoulders unlocked as she led me to her table. "Everything is good here."

  "I trust you."

  I was talking about more than her assurance that the food would be edible, and from the way she was looking at me, I knew she could tell, but neither of us went there—not yet.

  "I've ordered some appetizers, and there's some wine and some water." She nodded at an ice bucket next to the table. I filled my water glass and waited for her to comment, but she didn't.

  "Did you prepare a passionate speech about why Destitute should get back together or are you going to wing it?" I sat back and tried to close the walls around my heart that only she ever seemed able to scale.

  Alicia pushed her wineglass aside and picked up her water. "I've never been a big drinker."

  "Okay." Not what I'd been expecting, but hey. "I know."

  "I've never really understood the appeal. Sure, it makes you feel good for a while, but then you wake up feeling like shit, embarrassed about everything your lowered inhibitions made you do, and in my case, dealing with a serious case of post-party guilt."

  "Post-party guilt?" I felt the corners of my lips rising. Only Alicia would put it that way.

  She shrugged and looked like she was holding back a smile of her own. "It's a real thing. Ask anyone who's woken up with regrets."

>   "What's your point?"

  Giving me a pointed look, she sipped her water and thanked the waitress when she brought a platter of various bite-sized foods that made my mouth water. Bland eggs I could make by myself had nothing on this.

  "My point," she said, motioning for me to dig in while she talked, "is that drinking is a choice. Just like it was your choice to do it, and it’s now your choice not to do it. Getting back to work shouldn't affect that choice."

  "You think I'm doing all this because I don't want to go back to work?"

  She shook her head vigorously. "That's not what I meant. All I'm saying is that if you wanted to, you could be in Destitute and still not drink."

  "I know I could." It wasn't about me, though. Regardless of what we said now, Caleb wasn’t going to stay sober while there was only partying going on around him. Frankly, while I knew I could theoretically, I didn't know that I would either.

  "What is it, then?" Alicia huffed out an exasperated breath and popped a meatball looking thing into her mouth, chewing while she waited for me to answer.

  "It was time for us to move on. We had fun, and we made our money. I should have seen things were getting out of control sooner."

  She was the only person I would admit to that I should have seen the warning signs earlier. Still, making it sound like it was all about the fun and money made me feel a little nauseous.

  Alicia's eyebrow formed a perfect arch and she pursed her lips, dropping her chin. "Money, huh? That's what you're going to go with?"

  "Might as well." I lifted my shoulder in a shrug. "We did make a ton of it."

  “I know," she repeated in the same offhand way I'd been saying the same words to her all night. "But you and I both know it was never about that for you. Remember who you're talking to here, Jared."

  "I do." It was exactly for that reason I was counting my words. She knew me well, and she would know exactly which buttons to push if I gave her the opportunity to push them.