A FILTHY Engagement: a filthy line novel

by Kidman, Jaxson

  Only for a few seconds though.

  I stopped and Nash killed the song.

  Jay strutted by me, lip curled, and he grabbed his guitar.

  “Play it again, Nash,” Jay said.

  The song kicked up again and Jay worked his magic.

  When he played that one note and bent it, it was fucking out of this world. It was like getting high. My ears felt like they were ready to explode as he bent the note so high.

  He moved down the neck and played another part of the solo that was far better than what I came up with.

  As he played, I counted the beats with my foot and on the eighth, I bent the note he did to kick off the solo. What it did was give the solo even more depth. The catchy riff. The perfect solo from Jay. And then this haunting note bend that made the song almost a little bit sad.

  Which fit the lyrics perfect.

  Nash wrote the song as destiny waiting but then leaving by the end.

  The solo ended and Nash cut the sound.

  I stood up and faced Jay.

  Two guitarists.

  “Thoughts?” I asked.

  “I’ll mess with it,” he said.

  I grinned.

  That meant he liked it.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “For what?” he asked.

  I played a quick riff. Just fucking around with an A minor pentatonic scale. The fucking basis of all rock n’ roll music.

  Jay played the same riff back.

  I played another.

  He played it back.

  And then we both exploded into riffs and solos, leaving the studio shaking with the furious sound that made up Filthy Line.

  Ten minutes later, Nash was in the vocal booth listening to his track while Reed strummed an acoustic guitar and Sab smoked something good. He put his head back and made O’s of the smoke.

  I walked into the hallway and Toby was shaking his phone.

  “What did I do now?” I asked.

  “Nothing. SLECK loves the tune. Nicely done. I like the name too. They actually laughed at it. Tying it to your recent legal issues.”

  “The legal issues are still a problem?”

  “Of course they are, Dex. It’s serious. The lawyers will do their job. You do yours.”

  “Meaning parade Candice around and tell our story.”

  “I think you’re wrong with this,” Toby said.

  “How so?”

  “She’s going to get hurt,” Toby said. “She has no idea what she’s doing. Franklin was right. We could have vetted the right person for this.”

  “Fuck yourself, Toby,” I said. “She’ll sign the NDA and whatever else we need.”

  “She wants money.”

  “We all do.”

  “The band’s okay with that?”

  “The shit we’ve done to each other?” I asked with a laugh. “Come on. You’re looking for a problem now.”

  “Am I though?” Toby asked. “She’s tough, Dex. Or at least she pretends to be tough. There’s another side there.”

  “Why do you think I chose her? I always love the complicated kind of relationship.”

  “When have you ever had a relationship?”

  “All the time,” I said. “Think about the line whores on the gate, wanting to come backstage. I never choose one of those. I pick the pretty girl right in the middle of the crowd. The one getting bumped around all night as she screams the words back to me.”

  “Fuck. That’s your version of love?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “And you think you can be engaged?”

  “Of course I can.”

  “Dex, you don’t even have her number.”

  That was a good point.

  I stepped toward Toby and put my hand to his shoulder. “Sucks to be you then.”

  “Why?”

  “You need to track her down. Get me her number. Address. All her info.”

  “Sure. I’ll just walk right into the cafe and-”

  “Nah,” I said. “Let’s have some fun.”

  “Dex, your time to have fun is over,” Toby said.

  He moved my hand away and left the studio.

  I stood in the hallway alone and listened to Reed pluck at his acoustic guitar.

  I looked at my hand and started to laugh.

  Candice was mine… for a little while.

  Except for one small thing.

  I still needed to slide a ring on her pretty finger.

  8

  Candice

  I looked at myself in the mirror.

  You can do this. It’s a simple date. It’s a bullshit date. Just show up. Talk. Laugh. Who knows, maybe the guy is actually nice. Clark. That’s a nice name, right? It’s a solid name. The name of a man. And he never needs to know about Dex. Nobody needs to know about Dex. Well… at least not yet. Once we get the details worked out, I can talk to Cali… and say what? How the fuck am I going to tell my sister about Dex?

  I shut my eyes.

  Going from one lie to another like a frog jumping across lily pads in a pond.

  It was my life and it was messy. There was no escaping that sometimes. My sister had taken a little bit of a straight, clean path. She wrote things down, planned events out, and did her best to never let things move to the left or the right.

  Even when it came to having a child, she knew right when she was going to get pregnant.

  And that was okay.

  That was Cali.

  I was Candice.

  I was going to play along with this engagement thing with Dex for a little while.

  Big deal.

  He’d clean up his image.

  I’d get Trent off my back.

  Maybe I’d catch a Filthy Line show or two.

  And all would be right with the world.

  Hell, maybe when things work out again, Candice, you can have the band help open your new shop.

  I shut my eyes and chased that thought away.

  My shop? Really?

  I sighed and grabbed the lipstick off the bathroom sink.

  I hated lipstick.

  I never wore it.

  But for tonight… Clark was going to get the pity date version of Candice.

  I wasn’t even sure what that meant.

  After I smacked my lips together a few times, I shook my head.

  Lipstick was not my thing.

  I reached for the toilet paper when a thunder boom hit the bathroom door.

  I ripped open the door and had to look down.

  “Carter,” I said.

  “I have to poop,” he said.

  “There’s fifteen bathrooms in this house,” I said.

  “Yours was closest,” he said.

  “You’re going to come down here and stink up my room?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You’re lucky I like you, kid,” I said.

  I walked out of the bathroom.

  “Hey, Aunt Candice…”

  “Hey, Carter,” I said.

  “What’s on your lips?”

  “Lipstick.”

  “Weird.”

  He shut the door.

  I sighed.

  Weird was one way to put it.

  * * *

  Clark was an inch shorter than me.

  Not that it should have mattered. But it was the first thing that I noticed about him.

  It made the night a lot messier.

  He was a good looking guy by any normal standard. Which was good.

  I had no idea what to expect.

  He wore a suit but skipped the tie and had the first three buttons undone on the almost velvet, purple looking shirt he wore under the suit jacket.

  When we spotted each other, he pointed with both pointer fingers and winked at me.

  Ohgodpleaseno…

  I did the same thing back and then realized anything I did was going to be taken as flirting.

  Whatever.

  All I needed to do was have the date and move on in life.

  Be
cause once the story broke about Dex and I being engaged, all of this would seem like nothing. Nobody was going to give a damn about a date with Clark when it came to a guy like Dex.

  Without asking what I liked to drink, Clark brought me a glass of the same thing he was drinking.

  “It’s a perfect red,” he said to me. “It’ll go with our dinner and help take the edge off all of this. I hate dating.”

  “Hello to you too then,” I said.

  “If we skip formalities, there’s no pressure,” he said. “I know your name. You know mine. Our table is behind you. The menu is limited. The drinks aren’t. And if you want or need to leave at any time, don’t fake a phone call. Just stand up and go.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I did not expect this from you.”

  “Why? Because I look a certain way? Or did your sister build me up too much?”

  “So you know how to read Cali?”

  “It’s what I do, Candice,” Clark said.

  “You’re not a doctor?”

  “So you didn’t even bother to ask one question about me?”

  “I like the element of surprise,” I said.

  Clark inched toward me. His hand was then on my waist. “Then we’re in for a great night. I have a room here too.”

  “Oh?” I asked.

  Of course we’d meet at a fancy hotel bar for a dinner and he’d have a room reserved. Should I just turn around and bend over the table now or what?

  “Not what you think,” he said. “I’ve had a long week. So there’s two choices. I either go up there alone or with you. Again, no pressure.”

  “You just say what you want, huh?”

  “No formalities,” Clark said.

  “I think you’re full of it,” I said. “You’re trying to impress me by being edgy and cool. I’m not a teenager.”

  “But you used to like edgy and cool, huh?”

  “Who didn’t?”

  Clark inched even closer.

  I stepped back and went to the table.

  There was a sense of ick to him.

  He jumped to my chair and pulled it out for me.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Always.”

  Clark spun around the table and gracefully sat down. “So, Cali probably told me way too much about you. I won’t divulge unless you want me to.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” I said. “Balance the scales here.”

  “You were expecting a doctor,” Clark said. “Far from it. I’m in marketing.”

  “That’s cool.”

  Cool? Are you a teenager? Shit.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said. “Want to know how I know Dr. Keith?”

  “Sure.”

  “Ripped my knee apart on a golf course,” Clark said. “Freak accident. And I had been working on a marketing campaign for the arena. Got to know some of management and they hooked me up with Dr. Keith. Kind of strange to be operated on in the same place as famous athletes. I was way out of my element. But he and I struck up a few conversations. Went to a few games together. He’s big into basketball. I usually take clients there to woo them over.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I said. “No basketball tonight?”

  “For us?” Clark asked.

  I nodded.

  He took out his phone. “One phone call and I’ll have you court side.”

  I put my hand up. “Just kidding. Sports isn’t my thing.”

  “You have the body for anything though, Candice.”

  Wooooow… does that ever work for you?

  “Right. Thanks.”

  Clark folded his hands and leaned against the table. “Let’s finish these drinks, order two more each, eat, and see where the elevator takes us.”

  I thought about his offer.

  To just stand up and leave.

  I felt my feet pressing against the floor.

  That’s when my phone buzzed with a text message.

  My damn sister.

  Please just give him a chance. He’s nervous to meet you. I promised I wouldn’t say anything. Love you. Be safe.

  “Is that your fake text for an emergency?” Clark asked.

  “Nope. Just Cali. Checking on me.”

  “Making sure I’m not doing anything bad to you?”

  Clark grinned at me.

  He was a douche. But I had some time to kill.

  And I was hungry.

  And he was a distraction.

  Plus, this was a game for him.

  And I already knew the outcome.

  Or at least I thought I did.

  * * *

  The drinks were good. Dinner was better.

  Clark moved away from the table to lift his left leg over his right. That cool, casual, tough business guy look.

  “You haven’t said much about yourself,” he said.

  “You said Cali told you everything.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t everything. Mostly you were in between careers. Jobs. Businesses. Whatever you want to call it.”

  “Ah, right. She’s ashamed that her sister is living in her basement. And that I work as a barista.”

  “She said you managed the place.”

  “What do you call someone who manages the place without a raise?”

  Clark nodded. “That’s not right.”

  “It’s life.”

  “You should stand up for yourself.”

  “Right.”

  Clark rubbed his jaw. “Sorry. I don’t have a leg to stand on with your personal life. I’m sure you’d do something if you felt the need.”

  “Exactly.”

  This conversation was running out of gas.

  And if this was Clark’s game then he was secretly hoping the drinks had me wanting to join him in his room.

  “So… marketing,” I said.

  “Sell shit to people they don’t know they need,” he said. “I’ve always been a talker, so it works. I used to get in trouble all the time in school for talking.”

  “Chatty Clark,” I said.

  “That’s a good one. I went to law school and decided to do nothing with it.”

  “Why go then?”

  “Maybe I was forced. Or felt forced. What made you want to own your own business?”

  I swallowed hard.

  Goddamn you, Cali. Why do you have to tell everyone everything about me?

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I didn’t like to listen when I was a kid. So I wanted to be my own boss.”

  Clark laughed. “That’s a great reason to start a business.”

  Clark played with his empty glass and looked around the restaurant and the bar.

  This is where he says it…

  “So, Candice,” he said. “I’m just going…”

  Clark’s stare moved from me to something else.

  I turned my head and held my breath.

  “Well, look at that,” Clark said. “They seem to be popular, don’t they? Not really dressed for this kind of place.”

  “Nope,” I said as my heart sank.

  Filthy Line was here.

  * * *

  When Dex stepped up to the table, he looked between Clark and I.

  “Can I help you?” Clark asked.

  “Actually you can,” Dex said. “Is this a date?”

  “Dex,” I said.

  Clark furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s a date. Why is it your business?”

  “She’s engaged to me,” Dex said.

  Heat rushed to my cheeks.

  I looked to the bar and the rest of the band sat on barstools, facing us.

  Enjoying the scene.

  “Excuse me?” Clark asked. “Engaged? What is this… a fucking joke?”

  Dex grabbed Clark by his suit jacket and picked him up to his feet.

  “Dex, don’t,” I warned.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, buddy?” Clark asked.

  “Nobody ever makes a move on my fiancée,” Dex said.

  He threw Clark down to his chair.

 
; Clark jumped right back up and started to swing.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  Dex clocked Clark in the jaw before Clark could punch him.

  Clark stumbled back and fell over his chair and crashed to the floor.

  I stood up and covered my mouth.

  Dex then climbed up on the table.

  He looked down at me and offered his hand.

  “No,” I said.

  “No choice, sweetie.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I told you I’d see you later with the details.”

  “I thought that meant a call or something,” I said.

  “Hey, you’re in the hot seat here,” he said. “What are you doing out on a date? We’re supposed to be engaged.”

  “It was… nothing…”

  Dex wiggled his fingers.

  “Hurry up, Candice,” someone yelled.

  I turned my head and saw Jay standing with his phone out.

  Sab touched the corners of his eyes. “This is so fucking sweet… I can’t take it…”

  “Don’t be a pussy, man,” Reed said.

  “Shut up,” Nash said. “We need to get this recorded.”

  I looked around the restaurant and it was a bunch of suit and tie people looking horrified at the sight of five wild rock stars there…

  Dex was still on the table as I gave him my hand and climbed up on the table too.

  It wobbled for a second.

  He put his hand to my lower back and moved down to my ass.

  I elbowed him away.

  “Okay, just checking,” he said. “Making sure you’re not for purple shirt asshole here.”

  I looked to the floor and Clark sat there, wiping blood from his mouth.

  “I’m not worried about paperwork, sweetie,” Dex said. “We just need to make it right.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  Dex reached for his pinky and wrestled a lizard and skull ring off his finger.

  Then he took my left hand and slid the ring down my ring finger.

  My heart raced inside my chest.

  Jay was recording it.

  “There,” Dex said as he looked at me.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  Dex lowered his mouth to my ear. “For the record, you don’t need the lipstick.”

  I felt like I was going to melt.

  And then for good measure - as if we needed it - Dex moved his lips to mine and kissed me like it was our final goodbye.