Fall: a ROCK SOLID romance

by Karina Bliss

  “If he’d died, Mum…”

  “It became clear within a couple of hours that it was a TIA, not a stroke. And you were in Europe, at least thirty hours away. If it had proved a life-and-death situation, you wouldn’t have made it.”

  “And that makes it okay?” He felt so betrayed his voice shook. If you’re lucky, you have people in your life you can trust absolutely. Today, he felt like he’d lost two of them—his mother and Janey. His father he didn’t give a damn about anymore.

  “Sweetie, I’m sorry. I felt terrible lying to you, but I didn’t want you blaming yourself, either, thinking your leaving brought on his hypertension. The doctor said your father’s family history, and his workaholic lifestyle, made an episode inevitable. Really, the TIA was a blessing, because he’s making changes.”

  Frank Curran will never change. “Well, I’m relieving him of one of his stressors by leaving for Waiheke Island.”

  “Seth, please don’t put all the blame on your father for this. In the end it was a family decision.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s what hurts the most.”

  He thought of his efforts to firewall his estrangement with his dad and keep Mum and Janey in a functioning relationship with Frank—defending their father to his sister, staying at home to save his mother distress, hiding his loneliness and disappointment all these months. “I thought I was part of this family.”

  * * *

  “Dotterels, huh?” Dimity looked at the sign that said Don’t crush us!, above a picture of cartoon baby birds about to be stomped on by a large hiking boot. She wiggled her toes inside the ones she’d borrowed from Elizabeth. They were too big, and she wore thick wool socks to bulk them up.

  “How could you not own practical shoes?” Elizabeth had exclaimed.

  “Because then I’d have to come to places like this.” Nature was unfamiliar to her, and she was happy to keep their acquaintance to a casual wave from the window of an air-conditioned vehicle.

  “If these birds are dumb enough to lay their eggs on a beach covered with white shells, then maybe they deserve their near extinction. Didn’t they learn anything from the dodo experience?”

  She’d spent the morning unpacking her files and setting her laptop up in Zander’s office, a plywood-paneled room on the shady side of the house where light wasn’t an issue for computer screens. He or Elizabeth had softened its spartan woodiness with a Persian rug from Zander’s LA house. Dimity had taken off her heels and wriggled her bare toes in its soft silkiness, intensely homesick for the mansion, her cat, her life.

  The homesickness was not helped by discovering how much work he’d done behind her back, in transitioning to his retirement. He was actually doing a fair job of putting out feelers for staff. Half the roadies had back-up job offers touring next summer with Zee’s ‘mates’ The Stones—the opportunistic bastards.

  Even now, Zee was industriously going through the long-service names she’d flung at him yesterday, trying to figure out where he could place them. She needed to get back and supervise before he started the diaspora; equally, she needed to bond with Elizabeth. “Why are we here, exactly?”

  “Because I knew Zander wouldn’t want to come with us.” Elizabeth paused to un-snag a strand of her crazy corkscrew hair from a low-hanging branch on the narrow path leading to the beach. “I’ve dragged him here so often since I’ve developed an interest in bird-watching.”

  “Aren’t you nerdy enough?”

  Elizabeth laughed.

  Dimity followed her past the second sign—Diversion Avoiding Dotterel Breeding Area—to the track wending through clumpy grass behind the beach.

  “If we’re patient, we might spot them sitting on their eggs.” Elizabeth dug in her rucksack and pulled out binoculars. “They’re virtually invisible when they’re still.” She offered the binoculars to Dimity, who waved them aside.

  “Okay, Doc Doolittle,” she said. “What’s going on with the book? More importantly, why aren’t you sharing it with Zee? Aren’t you two one mind, one heart and all that crap?”

  “I can tell he’s secretly worried about me signing up for this project.” As Elizabeth spoke, she stopped every dozen paces to scan the beach through the binoculars. “If he knew how much I was struggling with this whole experience, he’d feel even worse.”

  Secretly, really? Zee already had his guard dogs in place—Luther, for her physical safety; Dimity to steer publicity; with Zander poised to do something outrageous to divert attention if Elizabeth was taking too much heat. Between them, they’d protect her from the paparazzi and shit-eaters out there.

  The crazies.

  Maybe he hadn’t told Elizabeth all his save-the-day measures because he didn’t want to scare her with what could lie ahead?

  But of course Elizabeth understood the possible consequences. On tour she’d seen firsthand the downside of fame. And had her own taste of being tabloid fodder when she’d started working for Zee. A photojournalist with a long lens had snapped her trying on a bathing suit, the accompanying caption asking whether Zander would be interested in screwing “an under-endowed PhD” instead of his usual double Ds. Because that’s how nasty the media could get.

  Elizabeth lowered the binoculars. “Zander’s dealing with enough challenges without me burdening him with mine.”

  Dimity had the full picture now, and it was kinda sweet. Zee was trying to protect Elizabeth without alarming her. And Elizabeth didn’t want to worry him by sharing her anxieties. Both of them putting on a brave face to each other and sharing their fears with Dimity.

  She opened her mouth to set Elizabeth straight, then closed it. Better to remain their only confidante. For now. It would help her cause.

  Elizabeth had resumed her scan of the foreshore. “Naked covers, a proposed world tour for the launch next year…next Max will be suggesting I conduct interviews from bed, to mirror the title. It’s no wonder I’m having trouble writing the damn book!”

  Filing another great marketing idea away, Dimity opted for reassurance. “I told Max we wanted to pitch alternative cover ideas. I’ll sort something out.” Subtly, she reminded her friend she was on her side. “Now what’s this trouble you’re having writing the book?” Writers—always so dramatic on deadline.

  “There could be an issue when I deliver the manu—there!” Thrusting the binoculars at Dimity, she pointed a direction.

  Dimity took a look, and saw a speckled bird with a head not dissimilar in shape to a seagull, with black eyes and bill and tawny coloring on its breast. “That’s it?”

  “They probably look like plovers to you.”

  “I don’t know what plovers are.”

  “Now that’s just sad,” Elizabeth said. “Did your parents never take you outside?”

  “Of course they did. We had ski holidays, resort breaks.” Dimity watched the bird, waiting for it to do something interesting.

  “I mean, into nature—camping, hiking.”

  “Not their thing…they were city-limits people.”

  “Well, I think that’s terrible. Let me be your guide.”

  It was a novel experience to be told she’d had a deprived childhood. “Thanks, but I don’t think I’ve missed much.” She was about to drop the binoculars when the bird finally moved. “It’s hurt.” Instinctively she moved to its aid.

  Elizabeth grabbed her arm. “No, it’s a con, we must be near its nest.”

  “Are you positive? It looks like it’s trailing a broken wing.”

  “Let’s move away and you’ll see I’m right.”

  They walked another twenty yards down the beach. Sure enough, the bird reverted to a normal gait.

  “Now that,” Dimity said, “is seriously cool.” Then she remembered they were here for business and returned the binoculars. “You were saying there might be a problem when you deliver the manuscript.”

  “An issue,” Elizabeth corrected. She started wrapping and unwrapping the binocular’s strap around her index finger. “In Bed With
A Rock God might not be as sexy as the publisher is expecting.”

  “Haven’t they already approved the first three chapters?”

  “I put the foreplay stuff up front. First meet, sexual tension. I can write sexual tension. I think readers would prefer the sex implied.” The strap was so tight around her index finger it was turning bright red.

  “And the success of Fifty Shades was what? An aberration? Women will buy the book to find out what it’s like to have sex with a rock star, specifically your rock star.”

  “Then there are plenty of others they can ask,” Elizabeth snapped. She released the strap and her finger regained its normal color. “My point of difference,” she said reverting to her usual calm tone, “is that I’m the only one who knows what it’s like to be loved by Zander Freedman. Now that’s something special.”

  “Very touching, but you pitched a nerd-out-of-water-falls-for-a-hot-rock-star, humorous, tongue-in-cheek, behind-the-scenes boinkbuster. Not Sense and Sensibility.”

  Elizabeth looked furtive. “Does it count if I’m stripping Zander Freedman bare in a metaphorical sense?”

  “Oh, God.” Dimity felt the need to sit down. “Please tell me you haven’t written a love story.” The book was vital to Zander’s reintegration into the rock world she was determined to return him to.

  “I tried not to,” Elizabeth said in small voice.

  Dimity forgot about being her only friend. “This is not the time to screw up Zander’s reintegration into impolite society! This book will seriously help the rehabilitation of his brand.”

  The other woman rallied. “You think I don’t know that? At the time I pitched it to Max I knew I had to burn bridges to shock Zander into seeing me. So I closed my eyes and jumped into the flames, thinking I’d deal with the burns later.” The fight went out of her. “Now it’s later.” Her voice got smaller. “And that’s not the only problem.”

  Dimity threw up her hands. “I don’t need this.” Between trying not to sext Seth last night, and plotting today’s tactics, she’d hardly slept a wink.

  Elizabeth whispered. “It’s sentimental.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I’m so ashamed.” The award-winning literary biographer put her face in her hands. “I write clean, sharp prose that dissects my subject’s flaws and strengths and gives both equal page space. Yesterday I wrote three pages of how I feel when he walks toward me across a crowded room.”

  Desperately Dimity tried to think of a spin. “Were you looking at his hot body?”

  “No.” Elizabeth bowed her head, as if under a guillotine. “I was looking into his eyes.”

  We are so screwed. For a moment neither spoke. The waves splashed against the shore, dotterels chattered, and the breeze carried the scent of dank seaweed.

  Elizabeth looked up. “Ordinarily, I’d be honest with the publisher, return the advance and bow out of the contract. But I can’t do that—”

  “No, you can’t!”

  “Didn’t I just say that? If I get this right, I can do Zander’s reputation an enormous amount of good. And if I don’t—” she wrapped her arms around her lanky body “—I’ll have failed him when he needs me most.” She took a deep breath. “Which is why I need you to read it. You have an instinct for the zeitgeist. You can judge its marketability. Maybe it’s not the crap I think it is.”

  “Why haven’t you asked Zee? He’s got the best instincts of anyone I know.”

  “Are you kidding, I’m not giving him that crap.”

  The two women looked at each other.

  “If you don’t deliver what they want,” Dimity said evenly, “they’re within rights to cancel the contract and ask for the advance back. And you and Zee need that money right now. Not only will it augment the scandal, you’re screwing one of the big five publishers—and they talk. It will negatively impact future contract negotiations of your own books.”

  Elizabeth said, “I think you have the whole picture now. No way can I jeopardize either of our careers.”

  Dimity didn’t need another crisis—she had too many already. Seriously, God, what have you got against me? “Give me a minute,” she said. “I’ll think of something.”

  “I already have,” Elizabeth said. “Which is why you really need to read it. Like I said, you’ve got an instinctive feel for the zeitgeist. If you say it’s crap, you help me rewrite it. If not…”

  She waited for Dimity to catch the ball.

  “I help you sell the new concept to Max.” Either way, proving myself invaluable, predisposing you to my cause, and putting you in my debt. “Yes, that will work.”

  “Okay,” Elizabeth said. “We’re agreed. Let’s head home. I’ll clean up what I have and leave it on your desk for tomorrow.”

  They started the return walk. “So we’ve sorted out my issue,” she added. “Let’s try to sort out yours.”

  “Mine?”

  “Ignoring all my actions relating to this bloody book, I’m not dumb. You haven’t accepted Zee’s decision and you’re looking for an ally.”

  Jesus, this woman was sharp.

  Dimity took a deep breath. “I truly believe Zee’s making a huge mistake. Will you keep an open mind while I tell you why?”

  “You’re my friend, we both love him. Of course I will.”

  She let the love thing slide. Affection, respect…hell, did they have to label everything? “His life needs to change—I don’t dispute that,” she began. “We both saw the burn-out. But he’s got the two of us now to make sure it doesn’t happen again. That it doesn’t take the same toll on him.”

  Elizabeth listened attentively, and Dimity’s hopes rose as she made her case. “Zee says you changed him for the better. That he’s worried he might revert to bad habits. But he’s forgetting how many he’d already dropped.” Drinking, drugs, press-baiting. “He’d already made positive changes before you came onto the scene. He’s not giving himself enough credit for that.”

  If she could just get this woman onside, then together, they could change Zander’s mind.

  Slyly, she threw in a personal angle. “As a writer you know that creativity isn’t something you do, it’s something you are. It’s where you find your joy.” That’s what this job meant to her, something she’d created from nothing, a world, an empire, an identity. It wasn’t art as Elizabeth and Zander understood it, but to Dimity it was everything. “Performing is oxygen to Zee, he needs it to breathe.”

  By the time she’d finished her pitch they were climbing the track to the house and she was almost breathless from the weight of hope. “What concerns me is that he’s burning bridges.” Deliberately, she finished by echoing Elizabeth’s earlier phrasing. “It will be so much harder for him to start again in a year or two. He can return now and still have a balanced life. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”

  They reached the top and wind buffeted them as the ground fell away on all sides. “So what do you think?”

  Elizabeth was silent until they reached a huge, gnarled tree twenty yards from the house, then she stopped to pick up a fallen leaf stem, turning it over in her hands. Its leaves were dark green and glossy, clustered in sets of five, like fingers. “Here’s what it comes down to for me. I love the man. And the man doesn’t want to be a rock star anymore.”

  Disappointment kicked strategy to the curb. “Zander could never be happy outside Rage,” she said sharply. “He’ll miss it too much. Wasn’t I right last time I gave you advice? After the lip-syncing when the press was baying for his blood, I said, ‘Don’t go to him. Let him protect you.’ If you’d rushed to his rescue, he would have rejected you out of hand. Now it’s your turn to protect him from making the worst decision of his life.”

  “My job is to protect his heart, and his heart’s not in this anymore. I’m sorry. I can’t side with you on this.”

  “It’s not about taking sides…” Even as she said it, Dimity thought, No, it is coming to that. I’m the lone voice of reason. “It’s about safeguarding all o
ur futures. You’ve spent the past six months researching his history. You know that in everything he does, Zee acts first and thinks later.”

  “He follows his instincts.”

  “Same thing. Your best shot at a happy-ever-after is keeping him where he belongs. In the band. He’ll be miserable living out of the spotlight.” They could have it all, why couldn’t Elizabeth see that?

  “Once he’s tired of playing house…once the novelty wears off, he’s going to regret this choice.” Dimity hated spiking Elizabeth’s anxiety levels, but she needed to hear the truth. “He may even blame you. It’ll be unfair, but that’s how it goes.”

  “If he does, I’ll remind him this was his choice. I can’t let my fears for the future derail us before we’ve even started. I have to trust his commitment.”

  “Like I did,” Dimity said bitterly. “Good luck with that.”

  “I understand you’re having a hard time with this, but Zander hasn’t made the decision lightly. He tells me he knows what he’s doing.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I believe in him. When you love someone, it’s as simple,” Elizabeth smiled wryly, “and as complicated as that.”

  I believed in him, too. And suddenly he’s converting to another faith. One she had no access to. Dimity remembered the way Zee had smiled at Elizabeth this morning as they’d left for their walk, as though she held his heart in her hands. For a fleeting moment Dimity had even wondered what it would be like to love and be loved like that. To trust someone that much. Her imagination conjured Seth. Gah, this shit is catching. We all need to get off this island ASAP.

  “I’ll say one more thing,” Dimity said, “and never raise the subject again. Zee said he’s not doing this for you, but I don’t believe that’s true. He loves you and wants to make you happy. And he thinks this is the only way to do that. The question you need to ask is, would he be choosing differently if you weren’t in his life?”

  “I think a more important question is, what does Zander need from me right now? And that’s my unconditional support.”

  “Okay.” Dimity held up her hands. “We’re done here.”