by Lisa Suzanne
“Passion is passion,” Reese says. “And I totally see it when you talk about her. You get this faraway look in your eyes only lovesick fools get.”
I laugh. “Thanks.”
“Call it like I see it.”
Mark walks into the room.
“Where’s Ashton?” Reese asks.
“I rocked her after I changed her and she fell asleep.”
Reese glances at the clock and smiles. “Thank you.”
Mark saunters over and wraps his arms around his wife from behind. He kisses her neck just below her ear. “Happy to do it.”
My heart squeezes as I watch the two of them.
I thought something similar to what they have was within my grasp when I held Vivian close, but now I can see how very wrong I was after their little exchange. A love like they have isn’t meant for me. It’s something that only happens to a lucky few, and I guess I’m just not one of them. Maybe it’s what Vivian has with her husband. Maybe she’s back with him right now and the two of them are standing in their kitchen, his arms around her waist as he nips at her neck lovingly.
I excuse myself to my bedroom to leave them alone before dinner’s ready. I don’t really have anything to do in the bedroom, but they seemed like they could use the time alone. Besides, Reese’s words have gotten my wheels spinning. I can fully appreciate her opinion, and while a huge part of me will always wonder if things could’ve worked out for Vivian and me, I need to focus forward. I need to put what happened behind me, pick up the pieces, and try to move on.
As my dad called it, I need to stop doing the Brian.
chapter nine
“Pass the pepper,” I say to Reese around a mouthful of eggs. She’s a good cook, but she’d be better if she’d use some damn pepper once in a while—and I don’t miss an opportunity to remind her of that. She hands it over, and I wink as I point my fork in Ashton’s direction where she lies in a bouncer on the table in front of Reese. “You’ll love pepper someday, kid.”
Ashton responds with a cooing sound and smile that’s probably actually gas as Reese rolls her eyes.
“Did you decide on a place yet so we can get rid of you?” she asks.
I laugh. She’s ribbing me, as she does a lot these days. She gets as good as she gives, though. It’s been three months since I moved in with my brother and his family, and they’ve been nothing but hospitable. I think I’m about ready to spread my wings in a place of my own, though.
I started looking at houses and apartments a week or so ago when the final sale of my Vegas home went through. I did everything remotely, and I didn’t even meet the new owners. Mark paid for a moving company to get all my shit, which is currently being stored in a container in Los Angeles. Becker and Jason never responded to the single email I sent, and I’ve pushed Vivian to the far recesses of my mind even though she’s still fully in my heart. I’ve largely neglected my personal life in favor of some alone time. My one night with the girl whose name I can’t even remember after Vivian left was a mistake on an otherwise spotless record, but the drought is starting to get to me if I’m really honest with myself.
I’ve spent my days working at the record label and my nights giving opinions on lyrics and bridges and riffs when Mark invites me to accompany him to band practice. I’ve gotten close with the other guys in his band, men I’ve known for years, and somehow I’ve been immersed in the world of my rock star brother. It’s not something I ever planned for my life, but I find I’m enjoying the challenge. There’s still a business angle to it, so I can use my area of expertise and combine it with everything I’ve learned about music from my big brother.
“Not yet,” I say, answering her question about whether I’ve found a place. “There were two I liked, but I’m not sure if either is quite right.”
“Good,” Mark says as he walks into the kitchen. “I have a proposition for you that might change your mind about getting your own place right now.”
I raise a brow.
“Seriously? We’re about to get rid of him!” Reese says. I’d be offended, but she winks at me when she says it.
Mark laughs, too. “Okay, so you how Keith is both our booking agent and our tour manager?” he asks.
I nod.
“And you know how Keith’s wife is pregnant?” he asks.
I nod.
“And you know how Keith planned a six-week US tour starting at the end of October?”
I nod again as he mentions the tour slated to start in just over two months.
“Well Keith’s wife’s is having twins, and the doctors just scheduled her C-section a month earlier than they were expecting. He’s going to miss the back half of the tour. We want you to come on the road with us. You know the band and you can learn management quickly under Keith during the first couple weeks. You can still do the analytics from the road, or you can start training someone else now for when we’re on the road. Your call. We’ll pay you for both, obviously.”
My jaw drops. “You want me to go on the road with Vail?” I ask. I went on the road with them during their very first tour. It was summer and I was in college. I worked as a roadie, and while it was hard labor loading and unloading equipment at every venue, it was also the best summer of my life.
Mark nods. “It was Steve’s idea, actually,” he says, naming the band’s guitarist. “When Keith announced he’s going to miss half the tour, we knew we needed someone with a business mind who we can collectively trust. Someone who’s familiar with our personalities and who knows a little about life on the road. And we came up with you.”
I realize what a huge responsibility he’s offering me, and I also realize what an honor it is to even be asked. It’ll be a challenge, but it’ll be the best sort of challenge. People dream of following Vail on tour, and I’m being invited onto the bus. “I’m all in,” I say. I’ve got nothing to lose and everything to prove.
“Great. I’ll let the guys know and we’ll hammer out details this week. We’ll need you at every band meeting from now until after the tour. You free?”
I glance around me as if I’m thinking it over. “Yeah. I’m free. I gave up my entire life when I left Vegas, remember?”
Mark chuckles. “Well, we’re about to transition you to an entirely new life.”
“I can’t wait.”
* * *
After I put in a solid nine hours at Ashmark the next day, I head with Mark to Steve’s house for the band meeting. Steve lives on the outskirts of Los Angeles in Pacific Palisades, an easy thirty-minute drive from the Ashmark office and on the way to Mark’s place in Malibu. I’ve been to his house before, but it never fails to impress me with its gorgeous ocean views that rival Mark’s.
Steve’s wife answers the door, and Mark greets her with a kiss on the cheek. She holds their almost three-year-old daughter on her hip, and the little girl’s blonde curls bounce with her mother’s movements.
“Hey, Mark,” Angelique says. She looks past him to me. “Good to see you again, Brian. Sounds like we’ll be seeing a lot more of you?”
I nod. “That’s the plan.”
“Welcome aboard.” She opens the door and we step past her. Mark leads the way, and Angelique takes baby Adelaide to a completely different section of the house.
The other guys in the band are already there when Mark and I walk in. The drummer, Ethan, is pouring himself a tall glass of whiskey in the kitchen while he talks on the phone, and the bassist, James, sits with Steve at the kitchen table. They’re looking over some document together.
“The party can start now,” Mark announces upon our entrance, and all three men look up at him.
“I gotta run,” Ethan says, and he cuts the call.
Mark commands every room he enters, but it’s not because he induces fear through intimidation. He’s simply a charismatic, larger-than-life presence people can’t help but be drawn to. The guys in his band have mad respect for him, and when I see the way they all look up to him even though they work as a unit, I
can’t help but feel a little starstruck by my own big brother.
Most of the time I view his celebrity as either a pain in the ass or something I can use to my advantage. Sometimes I forget how he got to the level he did. Hard work, determination, trial and error, and a fuckload of good luck. There’s no magic formula for success, but somehow everything Mark touches turns to gold. It’s been that way his entire life, and half of me is envious of that fact while the other is thankful we were born into the same family. Unfortunately, envy wins over gratitude most days.
Mark slides into a chair at the kitchen table across from Steve and James and motions for me to sit. Ethan takes another seat at the table, and Steve opens his laptop and connects a video call. The screen lights up with Keith’s face first, and then Vail’s publicist, Penny, fills the other half of the screen.
Mark taps a few keys on his phone and pulls open what looks like a meeting agenda. He clears his throat. “Item one. Keith, talk to us about the tour.”
Keith glances down and reads us the schedule. “Twenty-one stops in six weeks. October twenty-eighth through December seventh. A four-day break around Thanksgiving.”
“So that gives us three to four shows a week?” Mark asks.
Keith nods. “Yeah. It’s a tight schedule but I’ve got buses and drivers worked out as well.”
“We’ll need an extra bunk in crew for Brian,” Mark says.
“I’ve got it covered. I rented four crew buses with ten bunks each. No master suites. Memory foam mattresses, video game consoles, and each bunk even has a private HDTV.”
“Jesus. What’s that shit gonna cost us?” Ethan pipes in.
Mark rolls his eyes. “Does it matter? We need our crew comfortable so they’re rested to do the job we’re paying them to do.”
“Besides, dude,” James says. “Have you seen your own bus?”
Mark laughs, and Ethan shrugs as if to concede. Keith starts talking about merchandise and guests lists. I’m starting to get a little lost as he delves into the particulars of what he calls the tour book, which is basically a book every band member will receive with an itinerary of events for all six weeks. Penny seems to be half-listening as she taps away at her own computer, and then she suddenly interrupts Keith.
“I’ll need to look at the tour book before you pass it out this time,” she says.
“Why?” Keith asks.
“Last tour you passed it out before I had a chance to add to it and I had all sorts of interviews scheduled. It was a pain in the ass to track these guys down every time they had an in-studio performance or interview. No skipping me this time.”
“Sorry, Pen. You’re right. Brian, I’ll need to meet with you to start going over everything I do. It’ll be easier to just shadow me for the first few weeks, but in case anything happens and you need to take the reins earlier, I’d rather have you ready to roll.”
“I can meet whenever is convenient for you,” I say.
“I’ll drop by Ashmark tomorrow morning and we can get started.”
I nod, and Mark moves to the next agenda item.
The meeting only lasts an hour, but by the time it’s over, I feel like I’m part of the Vail family again, just like I was nearly fifteen years ago when I worked as their roadie.
I’m excited for the prospect that lies ahead. Managing a worldwide phenomenon like Vail was never on my bucket list, but now that it’s on the horizon, it finally feels like things are headed in the right direction.
I just wish the hole in my heart was starting to mend. It’s been months of mourning what could have been, and the pain is still as fresh as it was the morning we woke up and her words shattered my heart.
Time heals all wounds, right?
So far, time doesn’t seem to be healing this one. It might be because I’ve finally resigned myself to the fact that I had my chance and I missed it. I had two great loves of my life, and both ended in basically the same way. Some people only get one, so I guess I should count myself lucky I found it twice.
It’s just too damn bad both had to end the way they did. Everyone deserves to love and be loved in return...but no one tells you that just because we deserve it doesn’t mean it’ll last forever.
chapter ten
“Are you okay?” Mark asks as we make our way from Steve’s place back home.
I nod as I keep my gaze focused out the passenger window. “Yeah. Why?”
“You’re just quiet. Usually I can’t get you to shut the fuck up, but you’ve been quiet since you came to live with us three months ago.”
Three months. The same amount of time Vivian was supposed to be at FDB to straighten out the company. It seems like no matter where I turn, I’m reminded of her. Still.
“At first I thought it was just because you were in a new place after so many changes,” he continues, “and that’s totally understandable. But you’re still not you even after all this time has passed.”
I lift a shoulder. “I guess everything that happened forced me to change.”
“I get that. I do.” He clears his throat and takes a breath like he’s gearing up to tell me something I may not like. “But Reese and I were talking, and while you seem like you’re more comfortable around us and especially with Ashton, I haven’t heard your hearty laugh or seen a genuine smile since you’ve been out here. You’re not dating, you’re not meeting people. You rely on us for your socializing. You hole yourself up in your room with a bottle of whiskey. You put in more hours than I do at Ashmark most days and come with me to practice half the time. If you’re planning to stay in LA, you need to start making your own life.”
“And stop mooching off yours?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” He sighs.
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound bitter about it. I was planning to get my own place, but it doesn’t make sense to do it right now before heading out on tour for six weeks with you.”
“I agree. And I told you before, you can stay with us as long as you need to. I’ll gladly help you get your own place when you’re ready,” he says. “But I don’t mean just that. I mean you need to make friends. Go to a bar. Get to know the bartender. Find a girl to get drunk with. You haven’t had sex since Vivian.”
The mention of her name still socks me right in the gut. I clear my throat. “That’s actually not exactly true.”
“Oh?” Mark asks, raising a sly eyebrow in my direction.
“I banged a girl from the bar around the corner from my place in Vegas the night I lost Viv.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” I feel his eyes on me.
“It wasn’t worth mentioning.” I keep my gaze focused out the windshield. Red lights shine in front of us as we get stuck in traffic. “It was a one and done, just another regret to add to the laundry list of them.”
“Sorry, man. But if you’re still hung up on Vivian, it’s not like you don’t have her number.”
“What would I even say? I know it’s been months and you’re married, but I still love you and think about you every second of every day. I was wrong to choose some misguided attempt at morals when we all know I have none of those. Choose me over your husband.”
Mark purses his lips for a second. “Probably not that, but maybe something along those lines.”
I shake my head with a grim chuckle. “I can’t come between her and her husband.”
“Then try to move on with someone else. It doesn’t mean you have to hop into bed with the first woman who bats her eyelashes at you, but what’s the harm in trying?”
“I don’t know, Mark,” I hedge. I’m just not ready.
His phone rings and he takes the call. “Hey Vick,” he says.
My heart races. Vick, as in Victoria. Vail’s assistant.
Vivian’s cousin.
“Hey, Mark. How did tonight go?” Her voice fills the car’s speakers via Bluetooth, and she sounds a whole lot like her cousin.
I could so easily find out how Vivian is doing just by asking th
e question. I open my mouth to do it, but I chicken out.
Instead, I listen as Vick and Mark exchange details about tonight’s meeting and start to outline a plan for practices leading up to the tour.
He cuts the call when we pull into the driveway. I tuned out their conversation about halfway through as I thought about Mark’s words.
You need to start making your own life.
He’s right. Going out, having a few drinks, meeting some new people...these are all things I should be doing instead of doing the Brian.
I head inside, greet baby Ashton with a kiss on the forehead and greet my sister-in-law with a high-five, then head to my bedroom without a bottle of whiskey. I take a shower, pull on my favorite black shirt and jeans, say my goodbyes, get in the car, and drive.
I end up in Hollywood and park the car. I wander around until I find a line of people in front of a nightclub, and I get in the back of the line. I’ve never done a nightclub by myself. Ever. I’m completely out of my element.
I glance at the people ahead of me, and I feel old enough to be their father. That may be exaggerating, but I’m pushing thirty-three, and most of them look like they’re still in college.
I can’t do this. I want to make my own life, but I want to be with people who are at the same place in life I am.
Even as I think it, I can’t help but realize I don’t know what that place is.
I wander around until I find a bar without a line, and I head in there. It’s a little more my style with its leather club chairs and dark woods. Trendy pop music blares loudly from the speakers, a contrast to the classic décor that somehow manages to yield a place that might fit a vast array of personality types. As I look around for a seat, I find I’m not the oldest one in the place. I fall probably somewhere in the middle, but first impressions tell me this is a better fit than the last place. I find a single empty barstool, and just before I sit, I glance up to look for the bartender. She’s on the opposite end with her back turned to me as she cashes out someone’s ticket. I slide onto the stool as my eyes drift down to her ass. She’s wearing some tight, black leotard thing with fishnet stockings, and my poor, stagnant dick twitches to life as my mind immediately goes to sex with the bartender. The one whose face I haven’t even seen yet.