by Marion Myles
But then she began noticing Lars, the bass player, made way too many trips to the bathroom, a few times coming back with telltale signs of white powder crusted into his nostril. It was no wonder he could play all night long since he was hoovering stimulants up his nose every chance he got.
As for Ben, the lead guitarist, there was no need to guess. He was painfully thin, had a constantly running nose, and his pupils were mostly the size of pinpricks. She snuck into his en suite bathroom one night while the men were hanging out and found needles and a blackened spoon. He was, without a doubt, injecting heroin or some other opiate.
“Liam,” she said the next night when they were being driven home from the set, “do you think it might not be a good idea to spend so much time with Lars and Ben right now? Seeing them using and high all the time is only going to tempt you, and you’re doing really well.”
“They’re my band. I can’t not see them,” he protested. “Besides, as soon as I wrap shooting, we’re going on tour again.”
She stilled then very slowly and deliberately turned to the back seat until they were eye to eye. “Really? You’re going on tour? The only reason I agreed to continue helping you is because I was assured you were heading straight back to rehab the minute the movie was finished. You can’t seriously be planning to go out on the road with two drug addicts and expect not to lose control.”
“Yeah…I was going to talk to you about that. See. The tour’s been booked for over a year. We’ll lose a lot of money if we have to cancel. It’ll hurt the guys. I can’t do that to them.”
“So you’re happy to put all these other people, the movie people, your band, whomever else, before your own life? That’s not right.”
“I thought maybe you could come with me. It’s working great, right?”
“I really don’t think so.”
His eyes widened in shock. “But…I thought…”
“Liam. This is hard enough as it is, and let’s not forget you aren’t even sober since I’m giving you alcohol all day long. On a concert tour, I’ll have no control, and you will literally be surrounded by booze and dope every single day. There’s no way—no way in hell—I’m going out on the road with you and the band.”
He nodded his head. “You want more money, huh? Okay. We can talk about it.”
“It’s not the money.”
“Then what? You got something better to do?”
“Anything is better than doing this. I’m not helping you. All I’m doing is letting you kill yourself more slowly than before. I have twelve more days to get you through the filming. After that, I’m out.”
She turned around again, facing the front of the car. Beside her Cindy made a sort of gasping noise. When Rebecca glanced at her, Cindy shook her head and looked away. What the actual hell? She wasn’t the bad guy here. Did Liam have the nerve to think she was going to spend the next few years following him around, handing him a Jack and Coke every couple of hours and constantly going through his things looking for drugs?
The rest of the drive home was shrouded in a tense silence. When they arrived back at the house, Rebecca headed straight for her room. She all but slammed the door behind her and flopped down on the bed. Right now, she didn’t know if she could last twelve minutes, let alone twelve days.
“Becks.” Liam’s voice called from outside her door. “Hey, Becks, I know you’re in there.” He knocked, three impatient raps, and waited again. “Rebecca.”
She pulled herself up and keeping a lid on the temper boiling under her skin, slowly opened the door. “Yes.”
“I’ll send the guys home. Will that make you happy?”
“Sure. That’ll make me so happy I’ll be singing Disney songs morning, noon, and night.”
He raked a hand through his hair and hissed out a breath. “What do you want from me? I’m trying here.”
She gazed up at him, into those mesmerizing sea eyes, saw the weariness and the frustration, and felt a pang of sympathy. She patted his cheek and for the briefest instant felt him lean into her touch before she let her hand drop away.
“I know you are. And staying away from bad influencers is a good idea. But at the risk of boring you with repetition, the truth is all you’re really doing here is putting a Band-Aid on a gaping, mortal wound.” Her phone alarm chimed from her back pocket. She pulled it out, slid the tab to turn it off and smirked at him. “Look at that, already time for your next drink.”
Liam did send Lars and Ben away, and Rebecca felt as though part of the weight had been lifted from her chest. Over the next few days, he was markedly quiet. Gone were the jokes and snarky asides. He took to eating meals in his room, dutifully studied his script while traveling back and forth to set, and went to bed early.
When Rebecca handed him the to-go cup she always used for his Jack and Coke, he began setting it down and waiting to drink. On one occasion, it was almost an hour past the time before he picked it up and took a sip, his eyes meeting hers over the top of the cup while he swallowed.
Braced for an argument, or worse, worried she might be dampening his efforts, her eyes slid away from his. “I’ll have to start the clock now. If you hang on and the drinks get too close together, you’ll get more of a buzz, and that might set you off.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I’m not worried about it.”
“Are you actually trying?”
“Could be I am,” he said, smiling in a way that had her wishing he wasn’t so damaged.
When he was mostly sober like this, she could feel the magnetic pull of him. Could imagine what it might be like having him in her life permanently. Just as quickly she shook the thought away. If anyone knew about drunks and addicts, it was her. No way, no how would she ever get involved with one. Her mother’s example had taught her that oh so well.
She wondered where her father was right now. It wasn’t a hard puzzle. He was in a bar or drinking at a friend’s house. He’d keep at it until he passed out. If he’d been able to get hold of any opiates, the passing out would happen sooner rather than later.
“You okay?” Liam asked. “You have a funny look on your face.”
“No look. I’m good.”
Isabella, the housekeeper, approached with a basket of folded laundry. She smiled at Rebecca.
“Fresh from the dryer. I’ll put them away into your room.”
Rebecca stood and reached for the basket, but Isabella swung it to her far hip.
“Isabella, I’ve told you so many times now. You don’t have to do my laundry. I’m a hundred percent capable of taking care of myself, and I hate making more work for you.”
“Ach, I don’t mind. You keep the master happy.” She nodded at Liam. “And I keep you happy.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”
When Rebecca sat back down at the table and continued eating her dinner, she realized Liam was staring at her. “What?”
“You’re an unusual woman.”
“Because I feel uncomfortable with Isabella doing my laundry? Most people would.”
“And that’s where you’d be wrong. Most people would love it. You always offer to help Simon with the dishes. You’re in this huge house with all these amenities, and I’ve never seen you so much as lounge by the pool. When you’re not dealing with me, the only thing you seem to do is stick your nose in one of those big-ass textbooks you’re always lugging around.”
“I guess that’s because I’m not a guest here. This isn’t some holiday camp. I’m working pretty much around the clock with no days off.” She held up a hand, palm forward. “Not that I’m complaining. This is what I signed on for. But if I do have a few moments to myself, I need to keep studying. Someday, when I can swing it, I’m going back to med school to become a surgeon.”
His eyebrows winged up. “Really?”
“What? You don’t think I’m smart enough? I didn’t flunk out the first time, by the way. I had to leave for…” She shook her head and stared down at the plate of pasta. “
Personal reasons.”
“Whoa. That’s not what I meant. I guess I assumed you were happy being a nurse.”
She forked up a piece of penne and chewed. “Happy enough. I like knowing I’m helping people, but I guess I want more. Ever since I was little, it was my dream to be a doctor.” She shifted in her seat and shook her hair forward over her face. “What’s the call time for tomorrow?”
“You don’t like talking about yourself, huh?”
“There’s not much to talk about, and it must be boring to hear.”
“Not to me. I’m very interested.”
“You haven’t been before. This is the first time you’ve asked me anything personal.”
“Yeah. Well. I can be a dick.”
“What’s that about dicks?” Cindy asked when she stepped into the kitchen.
“Nothing.” Rebecca whistled. “Holy cow, girl, you look hot.”
Cindy’s shiny blonde hair framed her face in loose, beachy waves. She wore a floral print dress with the most gorgeous shoes Rebecca had ever seen. They were Christian Louboutin.
She smiled and looked down at herself. “Yeah. I know, right? Hard to believe it’s me without the backpack. I’m meeting someone for dinner at Spago.”
“A male someone?” Rebecca asked.
“That would be affirmative.”
“Who?” Liam pressed.
“And that would be none of your business. Don’t wait up for me.”
When she was gone, Rebecca finished up her dinner, rinsed off the plate, and stowed it in the dishwasher.
Liam cleared his throat. “I never thought about it before, but if you have a…male someone…and want to have a couple of hours off, I’ll be fine.”
She leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “Thanks, but no. I’m not dropping the ball this close to the finish line.”
“Does that mean you don’t have a male someone?”
She smiled smugly and twirled a piece of hair around her finger. “That would be none of your business,” she said, echoing Cindy.
Liam’s smile was slow, and he lifted an eyebrow. “Rebecca, are you flirting with me?”
Rebecca straightened, her hand falling to her side in a shocked thud. “No. I’m absolutely not flirting. Get over yourself.”
When she stalked out of the kitchen, Liam bided his time, taking another small sip from the to-go cup before rising from the table and jogging to catch her. She was almost to her room when he came up behind her and tapped her shoulder.
“Hey, wait up. I was wondering if you could take a look at my arm. It’s been really itchy since you removed the stitches last week.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Thanks. The light’s kinda dim out here.” He pointed to the recessed pot lights in the hall. “It’ll be better in my room.”
Turning, he opened the door to his bedroom, and she followed him in. He was wearing one of his long-sleeved collared shirts, this one in black, and started rolling up the sleeve of his left arm before shrugging and lifting the whole thing over his head.
She’d seen him in nothing but underwear too many times to count, but this time, for some reason, she found herself enthralled by his naked chest. He didn’t have a gym rat’s body, indeed, though he had a state of the art workout room with every machine known to man, she had yet to see him set foot in there.
But, still, his body was so darned attractive with its long, sinewy lines and the flat plains of abdominal muscles. His jeans hung low, and the barest start of his happy trail showed above the waistband. She knew under those jeans he was probably wearing black boxer brief style underwear. And under that? Well, she could admit to herself she wouldn’t mind seeing what he tucked into those shorts.
Realizing she was unabashedly ogling him…and in his bedroom no less…she gave herself a mental shake and quickly turned her gaze to his arm.
“It looks fine, Liam. The skin is soft and pink, meaning it’s got a good blood supply, and I don’t see any swelling.” Reaching out, she traced a fingertip along the line. “I think you’ll have a small scar, nothing too awful though.”
He snapped the fingers of his other hand. “Dang it. There goes my rebel knife-fight-in-a-bar story. And it’s okay that it’s itchy?”
“That’s normal. Part of the growth cycle. You can put some zinc ointment on it to help with that. Otherwise, I’d say you’re good.”
“Thanks. I feel good. I mean it,” he said, taking her hand when she shifted away.
She looked down at where his fingers curled around her palm then back up and into his eyes. There was something there she hadn’t seen before, and it made her stomach pitch. Everything around Liam went out of focus as though he was the center of the entire universe. She could swear the skin of her hand where he held it was twenty degrees hotter than the rest of her body.
This was not good. Not good at all.
She stepped back, and he resisted for a few seconds, his hand tightening and holding her still. Then he leaned toward her, keeping his eyes locked on hers and said in a soft voice, “I just want to make sure you understand how much I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. You’ve been a real savior, and I’m lucky to have you.”
She smiled, nodded, and backed away. “Good night, Liam.”
Chapter Eight
Rebecca’s phone pinged early the next morning, and she shifted to sit up in the bed. “Hi, Jack,” she said, turning the dial by her right shoulder and bringing the Hollywood Hills into view. It was a misty morning, the clouds hanging low over the terrain and hiding most everything out there. For a moment, she had the sense she’d been sleeping on a cloud.
“Good morning, my best and most valued employee.”
“Technically, I work for Liam’s estate, but I’m happy to take the compliment.” She yawned, tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, and stretched her arms.
“Sorry. Did I wake you? I know it’s early there.”
“Time for me to get moving anyway. Hey, how’s it going with Shoshanna?”
“Fabulous. The fans in Asia are white hot crazy for her. We’ve had to hire extra security. The album is sitting at number one on all the charts.”
“That’s great.” She yawned again. “I’m happy for you. Did you need me for anything in particular, because I’d better get to it? His Highness will need supervising.”
“Not really. Just wanted to check in and say hey and to thank you. Having Liam under control is a huge load off my mind. He seems to have really embraced the program. I hear you’re thinking of going out on the road with the band.”
Rebecca paused in the act of sliding her legs over the side of the bed and ended kneeling on the duvet. “Where on Earth did you get that idea? When this movie is done, I’m done.”
She heard nothing but silence for several beats. “Liam talked to me about it. He’s really excited. Said you two are getting along like the best of besties. I thought I might as well reach out and start putting the wheels in motion.”
“Um…we’re getting along fine, but I told him there’s no way I’m going to try and keep him somewhat sober while touring with a rock band. By the way, Lars and Ben are a problem. Liam shouldn’t be around either of them at the moment.”
“Think about it,” Jack pressed. “You and Liam have a rhythm now. All you have to do is refine things for the road.”
“I also have a life, and I need to start living it.”
“Give me your number.”
“You called me.”
“Come on. Exactly how much is it going to take to keep you with Liam for the next six months or so?”
“What is it with you guys thinking I’m trying to wrangle more money? Listen to what I’m saying, Jack,” she enunciated each word. “The…answer…is…no.”
“Let’s keep thinking about it, and we’ll talk again in a few days.”
Rebecca hung up and threw her phone across the room. It landed in amongst the throw pillows she’d stacked
against the fainting couch.
Nine more days, she thought. Nine more frickin’ days.
* * * * *
“How was the date?” she asked Cindy as soon as they were settled in the Navigator and on the way to set. “I didn’t hear you come in last night.”
Cindy’s smile was full-on cat who ate the canary. “Pretty awesome. There’s nothing like being taken out and wined and dined and treated like a princess. It’s a nice break from fetching and carrying.” She whispered the last to Rebecca.
“You’ll see him again?”
“Probably. He’s in town for a few more days. We’ve talked about getting together tomorrow night if we’re both still clear.”
“It’s Jim Benson, isn’t it?” Liam said from the seat behind them. “I saw him on set yesterday afternoon, and you guys were talking for a long time in catering.”
“Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t.”
“Watch out for him. He gets around.” Liam went back to strumming a guitar.
Cindy snorted. “As if any of you guys don’t? Every man I’ve met so far in this town is basically a hound dog. This is just for fun anyways. Hey, don’t forget you have that interview with Rolling Stone today.”
“Yep. Haven’t forgotten.”
He started la la la-ing as he continued playing notes. The next minute, his voice, full of gravel and heat, began to sing softly.
“Then the light comes so bright it nearly blinds
And she stands before me with clear and kindest mind
All out of hope with no reason to go on
I’ve found me a savior, a new way to play my song.”
“It’s beautiful,” Cindy breathed. “I’ve never heard you play that before.”
Fingers still picking, Liam smiled, and switched to the opening chords to “Of My Blood.”
Cindy smiled and winked at Rebecca.
“I was struck by inspiration and wrote it last night. At least that part. The song’s not finished, but I think it’s working.”
“I’d say it’s working, wouldn’t you?” Cindy said, her eyes returning to Rebecca.