Love Defined

by Kelli McCracken

  Then I’d have the courage to make a phone call I was avoiding. Like it or not, I needed advice from an old friend, and not Boone this time. This advice had to be from a woman.

  8

  ~Mia~

  I jotted a couple of notes in my planner as Mitch and I sat in the front seats on the bus and went over the schedule for the next leg of the tour. Although Rebel Stone had a two-week break ahead of them, I had to double-check that Mitch had the correct dates for the interviews I’d arranged, as well as when we would return to the road. After he’d failed to inform our clients of the extra shows I’d scheduled during this leg, I didn’t trust him not to screw up something else.

  If he didn’t get himself together, I’d find Rebel Stone a reputable agent, one who would make more of an effort to put the band first.

  We were midway through the schedule when the band walked by us. I didn’t acknowledge Darius as he exited the bus. After the way he’d behaved last night in Jacksonville, I didn’t know how to act around him, much less know what to say. I worried he wouldn’t show up to any of his interviews–or the next leg of the tour–if I didn’t monitor him. As much as I would like to go home and see my dad and grandfather, it wasn’t an option this time. I had to stay and babysit Darius.

  “Okay, Mia. I have all the important dates recorded. Is there anything else?” Mitch collected his paperwork and set it inside a briefcase at his feet.

  “No, that’s it for the schedule. Just make sure to keep your phone on so I can reach you, in case anything changes.”

  “Don’t worry. I always have my phone on.” He pointed to the house thirty feet from where the bus was parked. “My cell signal here is good, so there shouldn’t be any issues.”

  I glanced at the two-story house and the orange grove located behind it. The property was a remarkable piece of land sitting south of St. Augustine. From what I recalled about our earlier conversation, Mitch said the grove had been in his wife’s family for many generations.

  “So your wife takes care of the grove when you’re out on the road?”

  Mitch nodded. “Yes ma’am, and she prefers it that way. My wife grew up here. She learned how to run this place in her youth, kind of like you did with Music Haven. When I’m home, she says I mess up everything. She’s a grouchy woman sometimes, but she’s great at running this grove.”

  Chuckling at his response, I said, “Well, as a businesswoman myself, I get where she’s coming from. At least you have enough common sense to do as she says.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” He stood from his seat and stepped into the aisle. I waited for him to walk off the bus, but he remained in the same spot, staring toward the seat. “Listen, Mia, I know you’re struggling to get Darius lined out. Trust me, I get it. He’s a rebel for sure, hence the name of the band, but don’t let him get to you.”

  “Thanks, Mitch. Darius is doing better. At least he was until last night.” I debated on whether to proceed with my question. “Is there, uh…bad blood between him and that roadie named Wesley?”

  Mitch winced at me, then slowly nodded. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Why is there so much animosity?” I asked.

  “Wesley has interfered in every relationship the guys have tried to enter. I’m not talking about groupies, either. Granted, there were some issues on that topic too, but what I’m referring to involves real relationships.”

  Did that mean Darius had a special girl in his life at one time? I never would have pegged him for someone who wanted to commit. He was a player...or so rumor had it.

  “I didn’t think any of these guys were capable of a committed relationship, Mitch.”

  He shook his head. “You’re wrong. The guys can commit, but they choose to remain single. Their lifestyle is complicated, and most women can’t deal with the rumor mill. It leads to trust issues. The ones who can handle it are no-strings-attached kind of women who want nothing more than to bang a rock star.”

  Yeah. Just like my little sister. She loved to date musicians, and she had no complaints about being shared amongst the group members. Hell, she’d had her share of ménages and orgies. She loved telling me her exploits because she knew it made me uncomfortable.

  “So, you said the guys have tried to be in serious relationships. Do you mean all four of them?”

  “Yeah,” Mitch answered. “Even Darius tried once. Anyone they’ve had a genuine interest in has left because of rumors. And, those rumors started because of one person.”

  “Wesley?” I asked.

  When Mitch nodded. I pressed my lips in a thin line.

  It was hard to swallow the words Mitch delivered. Wesley had seemed so sweet to me. Was it a part of his game, or was Mitch screwing with me for Darius? I couldn’t figure out any of this.

  “So, how do you know for sure that Wesley was responsible?”

  “Because Darius set me straight on what was happening,” Mitch answered. “When Rick was still the manager of Rebel Stone, Wesley went to him and started a bunch of rumors. It was part of the reason Rick left. Afterward, Wesley tried to convince me of the same shit, but I caught him in several lies. He’s trying to ruin Rebel Stone.”

  “That’s a major accusation, Mitch. Can you prove this?”

  Mitch glanced at the window as he exhaled. “No, but he openly admitted to someone that he wants to ruin them.”

  I frowned at him. At this point, I wasn’t sure who or what to believe. I valued fairness and justice, but at times, it was difficult to know what was real and what wasn’t. I needed evidence.

  “If Wesley confessed to someone, I need to know who.”

  Mitch shrugged. “I don’t know, but I overheard him on the phone, just a week after he tried to sell me a pack of lies. The thing is, he’s clever. It’s all hearsay. Nothing can be traced back to him, which is why he’s still working for us. Darius can’t afford a lawsuit, and Wes is the type of person who would sue him.”

  As much as I wanted to believe what Mitch had told me, I needed concrete evidence. I needed to know the truth. I sure as hell didn’t want him hanging around, fighting my efforts to better the band. Darius had that part under control all on his own.

  “Mitch, I believe in being fair and just, but I have to have evidence.”

  “But I just said—”

  I motioned him to wait. “I haven’t forgotten what you said. What I need is to do my own investigation. Rest assured, I will get to the bottom of this, but you can’t tell anyone what I’m doing. Got it?”

  “You bet.” He nodded once. “Anything else?”

  “Nope. That’s it. I’ll be in touch in a few days to see how things are going on your end. Call if you need anything.”

  “Will do. Hey, do you need a ride to the airport or a hotel or—”

  “I can call a cab after I finish talking to the guys. Go inside and see your wife. Grouchy or not, I’m sure she missed you.”

  Mitch smiled. “Thanks, Mia. Enjoy your break.”

  I followed him off the bus as I replied, “You too.”

  The heat hit me as soon as I stepped into the driveway. It was nothing like the heat in Arizona. The humidity was thick. Still, I didn’t mind sweating a little. Andi was on standby to book a hotel for me as soon as I told her where I was staying. I needed to be close to the guys so I could manage them better, but I had no idea where Darius lived. All I knew was that the band originated in Florida.

  Glancing around Mitch’s property, a large barn stood to the right of the house. A few cars were parked in front of it, which was where I found Boone, Wyatt, and Roman gathered. Darius was nowhere in sight.

  I made my way down the paved drive that led to the barn. Roman and Wyatt waved goodbye to Boone and then to me before they got in their cars and drove off. Boone shoved a couple of bags in his trunk. When he spotted me, he stopped.

  “Hey, Mia. What’s up?”

  “I’m looking for Darius. Did he already leave?”

  “Nope. He’s inside,” Boone thumbed over hi
s shoulder, “but he’s about to head out. Better hurry if you want to catch him.”

  “Thanks, Boone.” I walked past his car and into the barn behind it. Darius stood in front of a tractor, a four-wheeler, and a motorcycle, searching for something in his pocket. I wasn’t sure what alerted him to my presence, but his eyes met mine a moment later.

  “Hey,” I said as I stopped beside him and reached inside my purse. “You didn’t get your copy of the schedule for the radio interviews.”

  When I attempted to hand it to him, he stared at the paper. A second later, he looked at me and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do any interviews.”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  He frowned. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I need some time off to take care of some stuff. I’ll catch up with everyone before the next leg begins.”

  Great. I’d had a feeling this would happen. “What’s going on, Darius? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  He gaped at me, then shook his head. “Why do you always think the worst of me?”

  “It’s my job to know what’s going on with you and your bandmates at all times. You say you can’t do interviews, that you have other stuff to tend to, but what would be more important than these interviews? This is your career we’re discussing.”

  “I’m not in any trouble Mia. Now, will you please excuse me? I have a bit of a drive ahead of me.”

  He drew a set of keys from his pocket, wedged between the four-wheeler and motorcycle, then straddled the black and blue Harley Davidson. Just as he started the engine and grabbed his helmet, I approached him. He wasn’t walking away from this conversation.

  Without saying a word, I grabbed Darius’s shoulder, stepped on the footpeg, and lowered myself on the seat behind him. The muscles under my hand flexed as he tensed and killed the engine. When he looked at me, confusion covered his face.

  “What the hell are you doing, Mia?”

  “I’m going with you.”

  Darius’s eyes widened as he stammered for a response. “To...to my house?”

  “If that’s where you’re going, then yes.”

  “You can’t. I already told you, I have stuff—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.” I waved off his rebuttal. “That’s why I’m coming along. I’ll help you take care of whatever it is that needs your attention, then we’ll get you to those interviews.”

  Horrified was the best word to describe the expression on his face. “This is personal shit, and no offense, but I’d rather not have you involved in my business. You already run part of my life. You’re not going to manage all of it. Go home, Mia. Spend some time with your family during this break.”

  “Darius Stone, like it or not, I’m going to be your shadow until the next leg of the tour begins. I’m coming with you.”

  “Damn it, woman. Why won’t you listen?”

  I was about to respond when movement drew my attention to the door. Boone had walked inside. When he saw us sitting on the motorcycle, he approached. “What’s going on?”

  “Mia’s trying to ruin my break.” Darius faced me again. “You can’t go, Mia. Even if I wanted you to come with me, I don’t have any place to put your luggage, and I don’t have another helmet.”

  “I can grab her bags,” Boone offered. “I’ll just put it beside your stuff, D. As far as another helmet, I have one in my car.”

  Darius snapped his head back in his friend’s direction and scowled at him. I didn’t miss the devious grin Boone returned. It was like they were sharing some sort of telepathic conversation.

  It only took Boone a couple of seconds to jog to his car. When he came back, he strolled up to the motorcycle, handed me the helmet, then focused on Darius. “I’ll see you guys later. Have a safe trip.”

  I expected Darius to insist I get off his motorcycle and leave him alone, but all he did was sigh. The engine revved to life a second later. I felt the vibration between my thighs. It thrilled me, and at the same time, terrified me. What the hell did I expect to accomplish?

  Darius gave the motorcycle gas and drove us out of the barn. As soon as he stopped at the road and checked both ways, he looked back at me. “This is your last chance to abandon this crazy-ass idea.”

  “Sorry. Not happening.” I smirked. “So, where are we headed?”

  Darius’s gaze shifted to the road as he answered, “Back to where it all began.”

  ~Darius~

  As much as I wanted to go home, grab a beer, and relax for the rest of the evening, I wasn’t ready to be alone with Mia. I should have found a way to get her off my bike. Hell, I’d tried, but Boone had screwed that up. Why was he so hellbent on us spending time together? He knew why I wanted to avoid her.

  Pushing the thoughts from my mind, I focused on the road, happy to be off the interstate. Cocoa Beach wasn’t the largest beach in Florida, but it was home. I was glad to be back, but I had to make a pitstop before I went to the house.

  Turning onto the causeway, I passed a row of bars, restaurants, and hotels until I made it to A1A. If I went right, I’d be at my house within five minutes. Instead, I veered left, drove two more blocks, and pulled into the parking lot of a place that some might call my second home. God knows the guys and I had spent enough time in this bar, trying to get our band together.

  At least I knew when I walked inside, I’d be greeted by familiar faces.

  After killing the engine, releasing the kickstand, and removing my helmet, I slid off the seat and made my way toward the door. The distinct sound of a bass drum vibrated from within the building. Either they had the radio at full throttle, or someone was performing live. My bets were on the latter.

  “Where are you going?” Mia asked.

  I didn’t see her get off my bike, but the scent of her perfume invaded my nose a second later. When I peered over my shoulder, I found her standing a foot away.

  “I’m grabbing a beer. You can wait, or join me. The choice is yours.”

  Pivoting on my heel, I continued to the door. Mia’s footsteps sounded behind me. She’d decided to join me. Good. I didn’t want to feel guilty for leaving her outside. Still, I didn’t have any intention of hanging out with her. This was supposed to be my time to relax and clear my head. She was making it impossible for me to unwind.

  The moment I opened the door and stepped inside, the scent of beer and stale cigarettes filtered from the bar. It had been years since anyone was allowed to smoke inside, but it was an odor that didn’t fade easily. The soft lights in the entrance gave way to dimmer, multicolored lights spread throughout the building. The bar was immediately to the left, tables were on the right, and a dance floor sat between the edge of the seating area and the raised platform they used as a stage.

  Just as I suspected, a live band was performing. I didn’t recognize any of the lyrics, which led me to believe that whoever was on stage either played for fun or they were new to the scene.

  “Holy shitballs. Are my eyes deceiving me?” The feminine voice came from the bar. I glanced in the same direction, finding the face that I knew would match the voice. Cherry Workman. The red-headed bombshell who’d stolen my heart in high school.

  Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. She never stole anything from me, not even my virginity. I’d given it to her willingly, and never regretted a second of it.

  Cherry was like a female version of Boone and was one of my closest friends who I found extremely fuckable. We had never dated. That would have been weird. All she did was help me get over an awkward stage of my life. I cherished her friendship and always would.

  “Damn, girl,” I called to her. “Looking fine as ever.”

  “You’re a liar, Darius Stone.” She wiggled her finger and motioned me to come closer. As soon as I did, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a liplock I couldn't escape. In truth, I didn’t want to. I hoped like hell Mia was seeing all of this. Maybe then she’d understand how I felt when…

  Nope. I wasn’t think
ing about that right now, and there was nothing exciting about the kiss Cherry and I had shared. It was just the way we greeted each other.

  Nothing could describe the satisfaction rushing through me when I pulled away and found Mia standing beside me. The look on her face was priceless. It was a mixture of surprise, confusion, and what I hoped was a hint of jealousy. It was just the reaction I’d hoped for.

  I waited for Mia to walk away, but she reached her hand toward Cherry instead. “Hi. I’m Darius’s new manager, Mia Brooks.”

  Cherry shook her hand, then her eyes widened. “Wait a second. Mia Brooks, as in the famous Brooks family from Music Haven, Arizona?”

  “Guilty as charged.” Mia chuckled.

  “Wow. Your family is a living legend. Many of the bands we get in here have hopes of getting a call from the Brooks family. It’s like being touched by an angel.” Cherry glanced at me and grinned. “Looks like your agent finally came through for you, sugar.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I mumbled, refusing to admit the truth.

  “Where the hell are my manners,” Cherry said. “My name is Cherry Workman, Miss Brooks.”

  “Please, call me Mia,” she insisted. “So how do you know Darius?”

  There was a twinkle in Cherry’s eyes when she looked at me again. “God, we go way back. Like high school years.” Cherry smiled at me and winked. “We, uh, never really dated, but we did have some fun together, if you know what I mean?”

  “Oh, I see,” Mia answered in a tight voice. I didn’t miss the side glare she gave me. Good. Her politeness was a cover to hide the fact that she didn’t like the thought of Cherry and I having a past. Or so I assumed.

  “So,” Cherry began as she leaned against the bar, exposing her cleavage. “What do you guys want to drink?”

  “Give me a whiskey, neat please.” I answered.

  “I’ll have the same,” Mia added.

  I jerked my head back in disbelief, but Mia never looked at me. She was too busy watching Cherry as she removed two glasses above her head and grabbed a bottle off the bar. She poured the liquor into the glasses then set them in front of us.