A firm squeeze to Ryder’s ass caused him to jump in surprise. “Uh hi,” he said, turning to see two middle aged women grinning at him.
“A little something for all your hard work,” the blonder, of the two said. She was tall and fit, with a face that was botoxed to hell. Her friend didn’t fare much better. The only difference was her hair was a slightly darker shade of blonde.
Arching a brow at the women, Ryder reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with a hundred-dollar bill folded inside. He eyed it for a minute, then glanced back at them. “I wasn’t your server,” he said, handing the bill back to them.
The darker haired woman shook her head. “Don’t be silly, this was the best lunch we’ve had in ages. My numbers on the paper,” she winked. “Call me if you’re interested in doing some private catering.”
“Private,” he smiled the lopsided grin he knew made women melt. Fuck it, he’d done worse things for money and the first of the month was rapidly approaching, “I’ll do that. You ladies be sure to come back soon, okay?”
“You can count on it,” the blonder one purred, running her hand down his chest. They turned and sauntered out of the restaurant. Ryder rolled his eyes, pocketing the bill and tossing the number in his tub of dirty dishes.
“So gross,” Travis, one of the bartenders grimaced.
“Dude,” Ryder snorted. Most people didn’t go as far as to touch him, but he did get his fair share of phone numbers and tips, even though he only cleaned tables and never actually helped customers.
“Tell me about it. You see that guy over at the bar?”
Ryder nodded. There was a man in a suit talking to Amanda, the other bartender and Travis’ girlfriend.
“He’s been hitting on my girl for the past hour. I almost spit in his last drink, so she made me take a break.”
“You know you don’t have anything to worry about, man,” Ryder said, not to make him feel better, but because it was true. Ryder tried to fuck Amanda his first week working at Cibo. Despite his best efforts, she turned him down. She was in love with Trav.
“You got any weed on you? I need something to take the edge off.”
“Nah, man, sorry,” Ryder shook his head. “Oscar has some moonshine, though.”
Trav gave Ry a slap on the back. “Good looking out, bro. I’d hate to have to knock that guy’s teeth out.”
“Yeah, well, I should get back to work.” Ryder shrugged. He didn’t have much sympathy for the bastard, at least Travis had a girl. Ryder didn’t even have a goddamn name.
It had been a week since the incident at The Rabbit Hole.
The incident.
That’s what Jamie referred to it as; it sounded better than the truth. It sounded better than relapsing. The drinking wasn’t the problem, although it didn’t help. Her problem was in the act itself, in the rebellion. Jamie made temporary homes out of random encounters with strangers to soothe the ache she felt inside. She did it for as long as she could remember. She convinced herself she’d grow out of it one day. She thought all the shit that happened last fall would have served as a wakeup call, but six months later and she was still fucking up. No matter how long she meditated or how many affirmations she chanted, hidden beneath the peace and light was darkness and chaos.
Chaos.
She courted it, then ran, seeking shelter from the tornado she gladly welcomed into her bed—and make no mistake, Ryder was a tornado. He blew into her life and knocked down the carefully crafted house of cards she had built over the last six months. The crazy part was she longed for the torment. There was something in the way he looked at her, like he saw the sadness in her heart. Most people didn’t notice, and the ones who did ignored it, but not Ryder. He was drawn to it. Jamie didn’t need that kind of complication in her world. She knew better than to wish for something she would never be able to have, but even so she couldn’t deny the emptiness he left behind.
Empty.
Emotionally, Jamie long since accepted the omnipresent hollow feeling in her chest. She embraced it, donned it like an invisible cloak. It use to keep her protected, but the incident left her exposed. Ryder fucked her hard, ripping the pleasure from her body, but having him inside her branded her in a way she hadn’t expected. He gave her the most intense orgasm of her life, but it wasn’t the sex that scared her away, it was the affection.
“I want you,” he had said it more than once that night. It sounded good in the moment, but when the lust and alcohol induced fog lifted, he would see she was incapable of giving him what he all but demanded—her heart.
So, she did the one thing both old Jamie and new Jamie agreed on; she ran. It was better that way. Ryder would forget about her and move on to someone who didn’t need to seek out happiness in the bottom of a shot glass and in the arms of random strangers.
A hand fluttered in Jamie’s face. ”Jam? Hey, Jam? Earth to Jamie.”
Jamie shook off the regrets and smiled at the stunning brunette standing in front of her. Kensington Roth was Jamie’s best friend and roommate. They’d known each other since birth; their mothers were friends when they were children and their grandmothers before that. They were so attached that when Kensie followed her boyfriend to school at USC, Jamie went too. James was the realist and Kensington was the dreamer. Jamie looked at the world for what it was and Kensie looked at it for what it could be.
“Good morning to you too,” she quipped. “Also, I’m a grown ass woman. Why do you and Chris insist on calling me Jam?” Jamie hated the childhood nickname. Most of their family and friends stopped using the moniker around the time she grew boobs, but her brother and best friend wouldn’t let it die.
“Jamie, it’s seven A.M. Is the language really necessary?” Trey, Kensie’s boyfriend, asked coming up behind Kensie and wrapping his arms around her terry cloth clad waist.
“Sorry, Trey I didn’t realize you gave birth to me,” Jamie said, sarcasm dripped from her words.
Trey Knight was a grade A douche bag. Much to Jamie’s dismay, Kensie was falling for him. Her friend was a big believer in fairytales. She even saved his name in her phone as Prince Charming, but Jamie was convinced he was a toad.
“Will you two stop,” Kensie huffed. “A. You will always be Jam to me, and B. What’s the matter with you lately? You’ve been walking around like you’re patient zero or some sh…stuff.”
Jamie rolled her eyes at Kensie’s self-censoring. “I just need my daily caffeine ration,” she explained, jerking her thumb at the gurgling coffee pot behind her.
“Not just this morning. You’ve been like this all week.” That was Kensie for you. She lived her life in a bubble, oblivious to her own bad decisions, but had an annoyingly accurate intuition when it came to Jamie’s fuck ups.
“Work stuff,” Jamie shrugged, turning to grab a mug so her friend couldn’t see the lies hiding behind her eyes. It wasn’t like she was keeping the incident a secret. It was just Kensie wasn’t around much and when she was, so was Trey. Jamie didn’t want to discuss the weather with that man, let alone her sex life.
“Work stuff has you doing all of this?” Kensie asked, motioning to the full jar of cookies, plate of muffins, and loaf of bread sitting on the counter.
“I like to bake,” Jamie dismissed, taking a sip of her coffee.
“When you’re stressed,” Kensie amended. “I haven’t seen this many baked goods since—”
“I’m fine.” Add her spiral to the list of things she wasn’t comfortable talking about with Trey present. She didn’t like talking about it at all. It was in the past and Jamie was living in the present.
Kensie shook her head, taking a step towards her best friend. “Look, all I’m saying is if you need to talk, I’m here.”
“I know.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Baby,” Trey interjected, “she said she was fine. Drop it.”
Kensie stared at her boyfriend, like she wanted to tell him to back off, but she refrained. I
t was the one-time Jamie didn’t mind this new subdued version of her bestie. Jamie wasn’t sure if Trey noticed her discomfort or if he was just bored with the line of questioning, but she was grateful either way. She’d sooner die than admit that to him, but she was.
“Shouldn’t you be getting dressed?” Jamie added, mostly to change the subject, but also because Ken was still wearing her damn robe.
Kensie groaned. “Yes, Cruella is on a rampage so I need to get to the office before she does.”
“Cruella?” Trey asked raising a brow.
The girls answered at the same time.
“Her boss.”
“My boss.”
“Jinx!” They said in unison again, exploding into a fit of giggles. It felt good to laugh. It was the first real laugh Jamie had all week. She could do this. She would forget all about the guitarist with the hazel eyes and get her life back on track.
“Seriously Jam,” Kensie said, wrapping her arms around Jamie’s waist. Her big brown eyes bled sincerity. ”If you need to talk, you know where I live.”
“I’m fine. I promise.”
It was a lie and they both knew it, but for whatever reason, Kensie let it go. “I’m going to get dressed,” she said, giving Jamie a squeeze before retreating into her bedroom.
Jamie sighed, and pulled her phone from the pocket of her slacks and scrolled through the day’s headlines, determined to get her head back in the game. It was quiet on the news front, a house fire—no casualties—a community picnic, and a school board meeting. Jamie was halfway through the story about the house fire when Trey cleared his throat. “That smells good.”
She looked up from the article and smiled tightly. Her instincts told her he was an asshole, but if Kensie was happy, Jamie could at least try to be nice. “I made extra if you want.”
“Thanks.” Jamie leered at Trey as he made his coffee, too much cream and too much sugar. God, everything about him made her want to puke. “You don’t like me very much, do you?” he asked.
A noise that was a mix between a groan and a snort escaped her throat before she could stop it. She wanted to say, no shit Sherlock, but went with, “I don’t even know you,” instead.
“Then why the hostility?”
Jamie huffed, tossing her phone on the counter. “Must we?”
Trey bobbed his head up and down. “We must.”
“I’m closer to Kensie than I am my own family. She’s more than a friend, she’s my sister and I’m protective of her. She’s been hurt before. I don’t want to see it happen again, and if I’m being honest, I’m a little jealous. I never get to see her anymore and when I do, you’re here, too. You’re always here.”
“I get it,” Trey held his hand up in surrender. “I’m not trying to take her from you, but I love her too.”
Jamie’s eyes widened in shock. She was not expecting that. “You what?”
“I’m in love with her.”
“Have you told her this?”
“Not yet. It’s too soon, right?”
Way too fucking soon.
Jamie looked at the man, really looked at him for the first time. Trey was handsome, in a privileged, asshole sort of way; a little overbearing, but he would never hurt Kensie.
“Talk to her. Ken wears her heart on her sleeve. I wouldn’t be surprised if she felt the same.”
“Thanks Jamie,” he grinned.
“Don’t mention it.” She smiled weakly, making a mental note to add, be nice to the asshole, to her list of daily affirmations.
Jamie slid into her desk at the news station moments before Tina, her production manager, walked in. Tina Lin was a force to be reckoned with in the Seattle news scene. She’d been in the business longer than Jamie had been alive. At the peak of her career she was a co-anchor on a popular national morning show in New York, and she’d still be there if she hadn’t moved back to Seattle to care for her ailing mother.
Tina was the reason Jamie took the grunt job at WSEA-9 over an anchor position at a smaller station. She wanted to work with the best, and Tina was the best.
“Good morning,” she greeted, signaling the start of the programming meeting. The small Asian woman was reserved, but her presence was commanding. When Tina spoke, people listened.
A low murmur rumbled through the crowd in response. There were about forty people on the news team, including anchors, reporters, cameramen and production. Tina held daily programming meetings with the news staff to go over the top stories, and dole out assignments.
“As some of you may know, Sarah went into labor last night,” Tina began. The room went quiet, so quiet all Jamie could hear was the sound of her own heart threatening to claw its way out of her chest. Sarah wasn’t supposed to give birth for another two months. “Not to worry, she and her husband welcomed a healthy baby girl into the world.” The relief in the room was palpable. “Yes, it’s very exciting, but the surprise has left us in a bit of a lurch. We were in the process of finding her replacement and we’ll need someone to fill in for her this afternoon for The Local Spotlight.”
The Local Spotlight was Sarah’s other baby. She created it to give local restaurants, artists, and influencer’s a platform to promote their craft. The fifteen-minute spot ran every Saturday and Sunday after the six o’clock broadcast.
Jamie scooted down in her seat, trying to make herself invisible. The Local Spotlight had solid ratings, but Jamie was hoping to transition into more serious reporting and being stuck with the weekly gig, if even for a few months, would set her plan back. A lot went into researching and casting talent. She’d much rather spend her time covering government, crime, or injustice.
“Jamie,” Tina said, looking right at her. Be thankful. Be mindful. Be kind. Be thankful. Be mindful. Be kind. Jamie chanted. “I want you to fill in for Sarah.”
Shit.
Fucking motherfucking bullshit.
“Sure thing, Tina,” Jamie said faintly.
“Good. You’ll need to film this weekend’s spot this afternoon, a hometown band,” Tina glanced down at her notes, “Lithium Springs. Sean set it up.”
“I went to school with their manager,” Sean explained. “They’re really good, have you ever heard of them?”
“Lithium Springs?” Jamie repeated, swallowing past the lump in her throat.
“Yes.”
Jamie nodded slowly, sure her face was an unnatural shade of green. Of course, it was them because karma was a messy bitch who lived for drama.
Jamie spent the next hour staring at her computer screen. She should have been researching or meditating or chanting affirmations, but instead, she was having a nervous breakdown. She was on the path to nirvana and with one monumental lapse in judgment, Buddha drop kicked her ass all the way back to the beginning. She deserved this. It was Buddhism 101: do stupid, reckless shit, and said stupid reckless shit will come to your job, and fuck up your life.
Her worlds were about to collide. New Jamie was professional, responsible, and a team player. New Jamie was assigned this story and new Jamie didn’t flake, but fuck if old Jamie wasn’t shaking in her Jimmy Choo’s at the thought of seeing the hazel eyed man who haunted her dreams.
“Why me?” She groaned, dropping her head on her desk. She peaked at the time on the bottom, right-hand corner of the computer screen. Her call time was in thirty minutes and she had nothing. How the fuck was she supposed to conduct an interview with no questions to ask?
This wasn’t like her. Jamie didn’t run from her problems—sure, she’d bury them under a mountain of whiskey—but shit-faced or not, she didn’t run. This was her job and Jamie prided herself in excelling at her job. “Get it together James. It’s a fifteen-minute interview. It will be over before you know it.”
Be thankful.
Be mindful.
Be kind.
You can do this, she thought.
She’d made it through hell last fall; this interview would be a breeze. She was overreacting. Ryder was hot, young, and talented. He
probably hooked up with random women all the time. The chance of him remembering her was slim. Plus, work Jamie looked totally different than party Jamie.
She was fine.
This was all going to be fine.
Rubbing her tattooed finger against her bottom lip, Jamie inhaled and exhaled deeply, mustering every ounce of courage she possessed before typing ‘Lithium Springs’ into the search engine. Images of the guys popped up along with their social media links and articles about the battle of the bands win. Twenty minutes later she compiled a list of ten questions to ask. It wasn’t her most original or thought provoking work, but at least she was somewhat prepared.
Checking her reflection in the mirror, Jamie applied a thick layer of blush in a vain attempt to disguise herself and headed out into the newsroom. Reuben was already on stage setting up his equipment when she walked in. There were three stools opposite Jamie’s chair and instruments sat stage right. “Hey Jamie,” Reuben greeted as she walked onto the set. Her hands were so clammy sweat seeped onto her notecards.
“Hey,” Jamie smiled weakly, doing her best to put on a brave face.
“What’s wrong kiddo?” Reuben asked.
“Nothing.” I’m just about to interview one-third of the drunken threesome I had last weekend and I’m freaking the fuck out.
The cameraman regarded her cautiously.” Look,” he sighed, “I know this isn’t the type of stuff you want to be doing, but you’ve gotta pay your dues. You’re great at this. You’re quick on your feet and your instincts are strong. They’ll take notice. You’ve only been out of school for what, a year and a half? Your time will come.”
“Thanks Rube,” she said, patting him on the back. He was right, she had to play her role, and she was good on her feet. She could do this.
The sound of the door flinging open down the corridor caused her mouth to dry. Laughter drifted onto the closed set and Jamie braced herself for the impact. Sean and a tall, light-brown haired man dressed in khaki Dockers and a white, button-down shirt came into view first. Next was CT and Javi. They wrestled playfully, the drummer pulling the bassist down into a headlock. So light and carefree, a sharp contrast to the man behind them. Ryder’s head was down, blond hair pulled back into a bun, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, and a scowl stretched across his impossibly handsome face. He was even hotter than she remembered, tall and lean, with black ink peeking out from under the sleeve of his dark gray t-shirt.
Lithium Waves: A Lithium Springs Novel Page 4