by Laura Benson
Whenever I’d show up for a practice, Matthew would throw out the Yoko-name-cough and then go sulk in a corner. He was always pissed off when Joey spent any time with me. In turn, I’d be pissed off when Joey would blow me off for Matthew. There was no happy medium, and one of us always inevitably felt like a third wheel in the Joey relationship
Now as I sat on the plane, running all my memories of us through my head, I wondered which version of Matthew I’d be dealing with. Would I get the childish asshole that treated me like shit, or the grown-up, Joey’s manager? Straightening my spine and taking deep calming breaths, I forced myself to realize that I’d be dealing with the devil today, either way.
When the captain announced that we’d be deplaning in a few minutes, I started biting my lip nervously. Out of my seat, I grabbed my laptop bag from the compartment above and made my way to the front of the plane. I headed toward baggage and parking. For eleven in the morning, LAX was packed. It was one of the busiest airports in the world, but I guess it just took me by surprise that it was so busy on a Tuesday morning.
Before leaving the secured area, I stopped in the ladies room to check my appearance. Hair and makeup—check. Adding more lipstick and fluffing my hair—check. Black silk Elie Tahari suit looking somewhat impeccable—check. Awesome turquoise kitten heels—check.
As I stepped off the escalator, I searched for my driver. Of course, he or she was nowhere to be found. I was starting to pull out my phone when I saw Matthew casually leaning against a concrete pillar. His arms were folded across his broad chest, and I had a momentary lapse of…well, any thought.
Holy. Shit.
That was definitely not the boy I remembered from high school.
There was a languid look to him that had me absolutely mesmerized. I stopped in front of him, and he gave me a lazy, yet extremely sexy, smile. His auburn hair was messily styled, probably with some store brand gel. He wore a basic T-shirt in a drab green, but it looked good on him. He seemed to have filled out in the years that I hadn’t seen him. He wore a pair of relaxed, straight leg jeans with black Chucks. For an executive, his style was a bit too casual.
“Lotte!” he drawled, pulling me in for a surprise hug. I cringed as I always had at the horrible nickname he’d given me when I was fourteen. And Matthew and I were never touchy feely, so this was odd.
I looked up at him, noticing all the various changes in his face. He was a couple years older than me, so the crinkles around his eyes were a bit more pronounced. His tanned face looked bronzed but healthy. His eyes were still the color of the Mediterranean Sea. But his hair had darkened slightly into a reddish brown. He was model beautiful.
Damn…
I found myself being pulled into those pools of blue before his chuckle woke me up. I wasn’t sure if my mouth was propped wide open or if drool was dripping down the side, but I needed to get my hormones under control, and fast.
Clearing my throat, I said, “You know how much I hate that nickname, Matty.”
Matthew stood back and studied me for a minute. “Wow, Charlie, you’ve grown up.” His gaze started at my shoes and slowly traveled up my legs, my hips, over my chest, and finally landed on my face, when he gave me a brilliantly white smile. I felt my heart zing a little.
He kept shaking his head, trying to say something that just wouldn’t come out. The way he was staring, I was starting to feel self-conscious.
I smoothed a hand down my suit jacket. “So where are we heading?”
Matthew cleared his throat. “I thought we could grab lunch at a Middle Eastern place not too far from here. We should be able to talk there.”
I nodded when his hand lightly brushed mine, causing a ripple of surprise as he took my laptop bag and led me toward the parking lot. What he walked me to looked like a prop out of a movie set. My jaw hit the ground. The machine was all sleek silver and chrome, like a car of a science fiction movie. Flashy but beautiful.
“Joey’s doing really well,” he mentioned simply with a shy smile.
I let out a short laugh. That was an understatement. Joey was doing more than well if he could buy this obnoxious thing for his manager and best friend. Realizing my ex-boyfriend was loaded had never once crossed my mind. But now as I thought about it, I wasn’t sure what I’d be walking into. Money changed people. Had Joey changed? And just how much had he changed?
The butterflies in my stomach started acting up again. Maybe lunch wasn’t in the cards for me today.
Matthew leaned over me and opened the door, jarring me from my thoughts while helping me into the low-riding car. I caught a whiff of his cologne mixed with the clean scent of his soap, then I closed my eyes and inhaled. When I sat down, I melted into the softest, creamiest leather seat. It enveloped yet cushioned me comfortably.
Matthew folded his long legs into the driver’s seat and started the car with the push of a button. The engine practically purred, it was so quiet. This beauty put my Jetta to shame.
“What kind of car is this?” I asked, stroking the leather seat.
Looking over at me, he signaled to pull out of the parking spot. “Do you remember that car Justin Bieber got for his eighteenth birthday?”
I shrugged and shook my head.
“Well, this is it.” He grinned and winked at me, then clarified, “Um, not his, but mine. I don’t know where his is,” he cracked. “It’s a Fisker Karma. Completely electric and a very sweet ride.”
“Huh,” was all I could say, nodding. It was an impressive thing.
After that, we drove in silence. Being in such a small space with Matthew—after having no contact in five years—was definitely awkward, and I was wondering what the hell was going on with Joey. Had Matthew told him already?
Rubbing my forehead, I sighed. What kind of shit did my father get me into?
Matthew parked in front of a seedy-looking building, and I frowned. From the sign on the place, I gathered this was our lunch stop. Looking around the neighborhood, I could tell no hotel concierge would ever send me here. But seeing as Matthew was considered a local, he probably knew where the good food was.
He caught my frown. “It doesn’t look like much, but the food is delicious.”
The restaurant was fairly quiet since it was still just before the lunch rush. The lunch crowd wouldn’t be making its way out for at least an hour.
I was studying the menu above the counter when Matthew leaned down to speak into my ear, causing goose bumps to ripple down my spine.
What the hell is going on with me?
He grinned, and I wondered if he could tell how he affected me. “The falafel here is the best around. I suggest you order the plate.”
Taking his suggestion, I ordered my meal with a bottle of water. Once the food was ready, we found an empty, quiet table in a corner so we could discuss things. I was starving, and the smell of curry and roasted lamb invaded my senses. My nausea from earlier had subsided, and I couldn’t wait to dig in.
“So how did you end up here?” Matthew asked, opening his arms wide around him.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said, taken by surprise.
“What I mean, Charlie, is how did you end up as the publicist for Joey?” He tilted his head, giving me a conflicted look, then he started moving his rice around on his plate before digging in.
I bit my bottom lip. For some reason that made him smile. What was he thinking? I couldn’t stop wondering. Did he think I asked for this case? Did he think I was on a mission to get Joey back?
“Joey is my first client, truth be told,” I said after I swallowed a piece of the falafel. “I started working for my dad’s company after I graduated college. And early yesterday, he pulled me into his office and literally threw Joey’s file at me.”
Watching Matthew eat was a bit of an orgasmic experience. With each bite, he’d lift his fork to his lips and practically fuck the utensil. At one point, I had to force myself to look away before I started getting hot flashes.
After anothe
r sip of water, I placed my fork down and steepled my hands under my chin.
“Ah, and how did you feel about that?” he finally asked as he wiped his face with his napkin.
“Truthfully?” I raised my eyebrows, and he nodded for me to continue. “I was blindsided. I’m not exactly sure I’m the best person for the job. Our shared history goes back nearly a decade, and he may not be extremely happy to have me mucking around now in his personal life.” Sure, people were concerned with Joey’s feelings, but mine were important, too. Dad knew that our breakup was hard and as much as I tried to get over him, Joey would always be an important part of my life. However, I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way of this. This was a job to me, and I wanted to be as successful as I could. So Joey might be mad, he’ll get over it.
Matthew didn’t say anything. He just tilted his head, again encouraging me to continue.
“I’m scared how he’ll react,” I admitted quietly. “Our breakup wasn’t pretty.”
Matthew stared at me. Perhaps the hand I should’ve played was one that really didn’t care or give a fuck what happened to Joey. But I was giving him my vulnerable side, and knowing Matthew, I expected him to jump on that right away. I wished I could be the hard ass that some people were, but it just wasn’t me.
Self-consciously, I looked past Matthew’s shoulder and noticed the clock on the wall. I hadn’t realized time had vanished. Literally and figuratively. It had been three years since I’d seen Joey. And now he was a grown man, responsible for his actions. Suddenly, a part of me felt extremely sad as I reached down into my bag to pull out the damning picture of him pissing in the fountain.
I slid it toward Matthew. “This isn’t him. That’s not how he was with me,” I said sadly, my eyes conveying the message.
“It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, Charlie.” His look barely softened. “He’s not the same person. This industry changes you. Usually for the worse. The kid you knew isn’t the guy he is now.”
I swallowed roughly, the falafel feeling like razorblades in my throat. “You think this person is better?” I was a bit dumbfounded. How much could a person change from a career?
Matthew leaned forward, his eyes flashing with anger. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to frighten me or get me to back off, but I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. I had a job to do.
“I think,” he said menacingly, “you really don’t have a say what type of person he’s turned into. He’s Joey fucking Carino, and the women love him. His concerts are selling out. He’s still on top of the charts, and he’s relevant.” He laughed bitterly.
“Yet,” I gave him a condescending smile, “if he continues down this path, he’ll be irrelevant because we’ll have a dead rock star, Matthew.”
My challenging tone caused him to flinch. “Dammit, Charlie.” He ran a hand down his face. “What the fuck? You don’t think I do everything I can to keep this sort of shit out of the papers? I’m his manager. I do what I can, when I can. But there are times when even I can’t control him. If you think you can babysit him twenty-four-seven, good fucking luck.”
He took a sip of water, probably to cool down, and I sullenly pulled up Joey’s contract on my iPad, specifically the section that reiterated his contract would be null and void should he breech the morality clause. “Pissing in water fountains and showing up drunk at charity events is a definite breech of this clause,” I said in a bitter tone, trying to keep my voice level since the restaurant was getting busy. “They’ll have no problem negating this if he continues down this path. This is serious, Matthew. We need to do something now and quickly.”
“First off”—he held up his thumb— “he’s not going to be happy when he realizes that you’re the publicist. Second of all, he’ll be confused why you’re back in his life when you said goodbye three years ago.”
I took a deep breath. Even though I understood—and was wondering the same thing—it was beginning to piss me off that he was only worried about Joey. What about me? What about what Joey did to me?
Hiding my emotions, I put on my professional face. “We’ll deal with the punches as they roll. Let me get some things together. Once I have them in order, I’ll give you a schedule. As to what or how we’ll break it to him, we’ll deal with that later.” Just like I would deal with my own issues about seeing Joey.
I picked my fork back up and attacked my now cold rice. I was still starving, my emotions were all over the place, and I knew Matthew could see my fork shaking as I tried to take a bite. I had a feeling I wasn’t fooling him with my take-charge attitude.
Watching me eat, he started to say something, then immediately closed his mouth.
“What?” I snapped.
“It’s good to see you,” he started carefully, “but I’m concerned about Joey’s state of mind when he sees you. He wasn’t exactly the easiest person to deal with when you two broke up.”
“Yeah sure,” I said sarcastically, though an old part of me wanted to believe that he’d been as broken as I was when we split. Then again, he couldn’t have been that upset with the pictures of him partying and hooking up with various women all over the trash rags. “That’s what happens when you cheat,” I mumbled.
Matthew just raised an eyebrow at me. “And there weren’t any guys at school that caught your attention?”
I scowled. “If you’re asking if I cheated on Joey that would be a no. I was too busy with classes. Not every mouse plays when the cat’s away,” I said snidely.
Eyes blazing, Matthew threw his dirty napkin on his empty plate. I presumed lunch was over.
I sighed. This was going to be a long day.
I was wound tight after my meeting with Matthew, and I wasn’t sure how the meeting with the representatives at the record label was about to go. To be fair, they were the ones that hired my dad’s company to restore Joey’s reputation. I only hoped they didn’t know the history between Joey and me.
Thankfully, things went well with them. My dad had already filled them on what I would and wouldn’t be willing to negotiate. My first order of business was to prove that Joey Carino could show up at events sober and ready to not be so obnoxious and offensive. I mentioned that Joey would be working pro-bono for an outpatient drug recovery center once a week. After that was completed, I would pull together an album signing at a local record store that had been around forever and was one of the first places to showcase Joey when he first made it big. I wanted the label to know that I meant business, and I would get Joey’s image cleaned and polished before his concert. It was Andrew’s idea letting me know that Joey could volunteer at a drug rehab. The label and I decided that we’d keep the volunteer work quiet, but we’d market the hell out of the album signing.
My next point of order was to beg, plead, and perhaps steal to get Joey on the biggest morning drive radio show in L.A. His fans needed to know that he was doing okay, and getting him that sort of exposure would work wonders in his favor.
I was feeling extremely confident, but knew I had a lot of work to do leading up to his big concert in a few weeks. If Matthew or I could at least keep Joey on the straight and narrow ‘til then, our jobs would be done.
After an exhausting day of flying and dealing with Matthew and the record label, I was terribly worn out. I was excited about getting Joey booked at an eclectic record store called Hi-Fi Records. It was at one time one of the most successful stores in L.A., and since the downturn on the economy, it struggled, but the manager found ways to keep things fresh and new. So when I called her about bringing Joey in, she jumped on it.
Tapping the pencil against my desk, I breathed a sigh of relief. Hi-Fi Records had been targeting the indie/alternative audience since the Sex Pistols and The Clash broke onto the world scene in the 70s. It was a constant institution in the L.A., area and it would be a perfect location for our meet and greet.
Clara mentioned that they hadn’t done much live stuff in a while because people were either getting their stuff online or illegally do
wnloading it. But the few and faithful that came looking for vintage vinyl and a bargain would be excited to see Joey Carino. I gave her a few tentative dates, needing to firm it up with Matthew. I was so excited to get that part of the job done, I raised my hands in the air shimmying to the music in my mind’s ear. The next call would take place in the morning, I’d offer Joey’s services to Mount Hill rehab services. This was one job he wouldn’t be getting out of.
Joey and I hadn’t seen each other in so long, and the last time we did, it wasn’t pleasant. I had no idea how he’d react to me being back in the picture. I knew he wasn’t dating anyone specifically, just playing the field like the typical rock star. But I still had my qualms. We didn’t exactly separate on the best of terms. It wasn’t an ugly drag ‘em out fight, but my heart was shattered, and Joey tried hard to win me back, but I knew he was ready to move on to bigger and better things. It was a few weeks after we’d broken up when Joey called me begging me to give him another chance.
“Babe,” he rasped as I groggily answered the phone. We were on a three-hour time difference.
“Joey?” I rubbed my tired eyes and fiddled around with the switch on the lamp. “What—why are you calling?” I asked tiredly.
“I miss you, Charlie. So, so much. I can’t stand this. I can’t stand not being with you.” I detected a bit of a drunken slur to his words. I rubbed my hand across my face and tried to keep the tears that were threatening to form at bay. I also didn’t need to wake up my roommate who was sound asleep in the other twin bed.
“Joey, you can’t do this to yourself or to me. It’s not fair. We can’t go back to what we had, ever.” I sounded angrier than I felt, but this call in the middle of the night couldn’t happen again.
“Charlie, please, just give me…”
I cut him off. “No, Joey. I can’t and I won’t. What’s done is done, and I’d appreciate if you didn’t call me again.” I hated saying those words. I was a liar and a fool, and I started shaking all over. The few tears that dripped from my eyes traveled down my cheeks to my chin. I had to bit my lip to keep the sob from spilling out.