by JN Welsh
Luke continued to eat from her plate. “Hardly.”
Leona clucked her tongue and its loud noise drew Luke’s attention. She ignored him and pinched a piece of pancake from the plate, and then popped it in her mouth.
“Careful. I have big plans for that mouth.”
Leona choked on her food. “Oh my gosh.” She searched for eavesdroppers.
“Don’t get shy on me, now.” He scooted his chair even closer.
“I’m not shy. I’m modest. There’s a difference.” The heat in her cheeks told a different story.
Luke rubbed his leg against hers under the table. “Trust me. I know.” His eyebrows flitted and amusement curled the corners of his mouth.
Bobby came back to sit with them and she was grateful. Her flushed face needed to cool down.
“Get a room, people.” Bobby didn’t miss a beat. “Glad to see you finally brought a lady friend here.”
“What do you mean, Bobby?” Leona’s interest went from zero to ten.
“Nothing.” Luke attempted to quiet Bobby.
“Luke’s never brought a woman here to see us, not even that Ivy woman you were...”
“Bobby!”
Leona’s ears perked at Luke’s volume.
“Bring it down.” Bobby’s paternal tone instantly changed Luke’s disposition.
“Sorry.” Luke shifted in his seat, but seemed to relax.
“Everything okay, guys?” Leona sat so erect she grew a few inches.
“We’re good, Leo. Just a misunderstanding between old friends, right, Luke?” Bobby stroked his beard as he studied Luke, but once again appeared to be in good humor.
“Right.” Luke’s restless movements suggested otherwise.
Leona wasn’t about to be the only one left out of this saucepot full of drama. “What’s this about Ivy?”
“We had an agreement, Leona.”
“You knew that wasn’t going to last long, right?”
Luke’s entire face frowned and he reddened through his tanned skin. “I—”
“You haven’t told her?” Bobby laced his fingers and placed them on his belly.
Leona wanted to cool Luke’s growing temper but she craved answers more. “Tell me what?”
“How that witch robbed his ass,” Bobby volunteered and Leona appreciated the man even more. He didn’t mess around.
“Rob me? She fucked me from every angle.” Luke’s anger was tinged with the pain of betrayal Leona knew all too well. Her throat was dry as sawdust, but she didn’t relent.
“How?” Her hand capped Luke’s balled up fist and she released a shaky breath when he didn’t recoil from her touch.
“She was skimming money from my shows. By the time I found out, she’d pilfered close to a million dollars.”
“Oh my God,” Leona gasped. “Over how long a period?”
“Six months,” Luke mumbled.
Six months! “B-but your accountant...your bank statements?”
Luke went rigid. “She handled all of it.”
Leona recalled her conversation with Dale, her informant when she was researching Luke. Dale had mentioned that Ivy stole money from Luke, but a million dollars wasn’t chump change.
“You trusted her. With everything?” She squeezed Luke’s hand and saw sadness soften the angry lines at the corners of his mouth.
“Even his music,” Bobby added. “I’m no genius but even I knew you didn’t need to change your sound.”
“Your music? How’d she do that?” Leona was appalled that anyone, much less Luke’s manager and fiancée, would ever suggest he change his sound.
Luke and Bobby again shared an unspoken exchange. There was a chill of dead air before Luke responded. “I’m done rehashing this.”
“But—”
“I’m serious.” Luke’s tone silenced both her and Bobby.
“Okay, okay.” Leona bit her lip. The fifteen seconds of quiet at the table felt like hours.
Bobby gave his beard long meditative brushes before finally speaking.
“So, what story should I start with first? The one about Luke streaking most of downtown San Francisco might be a good tale to tell.”
“Oh man.” Luke leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face.
And just like that, the conversation about Ivy and her wrongdoings was over.
Whatever else Ivy had done had wounded Luke deeply. His fiancée had betrayed him on so many levels and Leona had been paying the price. Leona wanted to show him she was different, that she cared and most of all that he could trust her.
She leaned forward and flowed with their tempo. “Yes, please.”
* * *
Luke and Leona spent the day visiting some of the sights of San Francisco. She’d enjoyed the comical retelling of surfing and party stories with Bobby but her nosy alter ego screamed for details. She indulged Luke and his mini tour commentary of his city.
On their drive back to the house, she couldn’t contain it any longer.
“Luke?”
“I’m sorry I was crabby with you, earlier.”
She covered his hand with hers. “Apology accepted. I’m sorry if I pushed.” She hoped he would tell her more, but he focused on the road.
Luke side-eyed her and sighed. “That you can’t ask me about what happened at the café is killing you, isn’t it?”
Leona blinked at his intuition. She could have asked him anything. That she’d witnessed him anger so easily from the mere mention of Ivy must have been on his mind, too. “Yes.”
“Just like not asking you more about your anxiety attack is burning a hole in my tongue.”
Leona bit her lip. “It wasn’t a full attack. It was just a little paranoia. I’m okay now.” And there it was—their pesky baggage, noisily shooting around the conveyer belt of their lover’s retreat.
Luke navigated the vehicle and was silent for a long time.
“It’s just that the media really did a number on me and my family when I broke up with Paul. They were everywhere, even in my parents’ home. I was...” She choked. “There were times I was afraid of my own freakin’ shadow. When the attacks started, Abe suggested I take some time off to get them under control. You know, stay out of the public eye for a bit and, well, before long, a year had passed.”
She knew she was breaking the rules but perhaps if she offered an olive branch, he would, too.
“I’m sorry they hounded you. No doubt because Paul fed the media enough to keep things going.” His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. “I didn’t want to bring our turmoil to this getaway. I wanted us to feel safe, here together. Bobby didn’t know Ivy was off-limits. I’ve changed my life, and moving here to San Francisco is a part of it. It’s a new beginning in a sense, after all the shit that went down with Ivy—the money, the cheating, my album, and the tour. To recoup what was lost. Can you be okay with that explanation, for now?”
“But I... There’s so much... I have a hard time... What about...” Each time she tried to say something, an internal retort was on the tip of her tongue.
He did a double take over at her several times.
She sighed heavily. “Yes.”
“You’re like a computer on the fritz.” Luke laughed.
Leona knocked his arm playfully.
“Easy, or no dessert for you,” he warned, but a touch of a smile still graced his lips.
“Dessert?” Visions of petits fours danced in her head.
“Yes. Later.”
Dessert was a distraction, and the past was again tucked away. Though she was curious, Leona would respect his explanation—for now.
When they arrived at the house, Leona and Luke both agreed to catch up on work. She communicated with her team via email so they, too, could enjoy a much-needed break. Luke also busied him
self on his computer and music floated from his headphones. So much had transpired between them and they’d catapulted to another level. The more time they spent together, the more invested in him she became.
Later that evening, as Leona plugged away on her computer, Luke offered her a small plate of leftover lasagna. Brunch at Bobby’s had been filling, but that was hours ago so she was happy for the portion.
After dinner, Luke disappeared and she pulled up her emails regarding the San Francisco one-off performance. Sara and Sebastian would be arriving in town soon and Sebastian needed footage of the show. The team still needed to brief for Los Angeles. Their marketing blitz for the show had been nonstop. Though ticket sales were up, and with the conditions of the addendum looming over her head, Los Angeles wasn’t sold out. Leona emailed marketing with additional instructions she hoped would help boost ticket sales.
When she finished her work she went upstairs for a quick shower. She towel-dried her hair and moisturized her strands, combing and styling them with her fingers. Again, confusion plagued her as to what to wear while in the house with Luke.
It’s time to put your big girl panties on. “Literally.”
Leona’s “big girl panties” weren’t big at all. In fact, if they were any smaller, they’d be nonexistent. The pink satin and black lace nighty with matching underwear barely covered her. She liked to walk through Luke’s house barefoot and fastened black and silver embroidered barefoot sandals around her middle toes and ankles. She regarded herself in the mirror and her eyes widened.
“What did you expect from pink satin and black lace?” She hoped he liked it and the thought made her giddy.
Leona donned a black matching robe and tied it shut before searching for Luke. She descended the stairs and at first didn’t see any sign of him.
Luke reappeared from wherever he was, shirtless and in boxers. He stopped short when he saw her.
Chapter Twenty
Luke stopped in his tracks and reined himself in to keep from pouncing on Leona.
“You’re like a present.” That I want to rip the wrapping off of and...
“I think that’s the idea.” She blushed.
Luke barely heard her. Her modesty made him want her even more. He longed to see what lay under the robe. With determined steps, he approached her and slipped the satin sash between his fingers. “May I?”
Leona spread her arms wide. “You may.”
Luke untied the sash and opened the robe. The garment clung to her body and accentuated her breasts, lifting them so high he couldn’t miss them if he tried.
“I like.” He breathed in the scent of crisp raspberry and sensuous wild rose that decorated her skin. He retied the sash, and then stepped back. He had a long way to go before he was once again buried inside her enchanted pussy and pleasing her again. “Ready for dessert?”
Leona clasped his outstretched hand. “Yes, please.”
He knew she was an addict for sweets and the thought of dessert excited her. He brought her over to the table where a rounded traditional silver platter and dome cover greeted them.
Leona clapped her hands and did her food dance.
Pretending to be a well-trained butler, Luke put one arm behind his back, and then bent over to remove the cover. “Dessert is served.”
“What’s this?” Leona asked. A digital music player lay on the serving platter.
Luke stifled a laugh as the delightful expression fell from her face. “I made you a playlist.”
“Oh.” Leona hesitated, unsure how to react. “Okay.”
He was pleased by her confusion. The response was exactly what he’d hoped for. He intertwined his fingers with hers. “Come with me.”
He guided her through the house to a door at the far end of the first floor and up a short staircase. He trailed behind to witness the alternating movement of her hips. They reached a door at the end of the hall, and entered into darkness before he turned on the lights.
The first thing that greeted them was a large ceiling-to-floor picture window that garnered most of the wall and overlooked the ocean. The space itself was about eight hundred square feet, with speakers everywhere. Here, he was most comfortable and proud of what he’d created. His equipment and turntables were at the side, and a massive vinyl collection acquired over the years was stacked on shelves. The soundproof enclosed glass area housed two standing microphones that reminded him of the hits he had made since moving into this home from Los Angeles.
“This is your studio,” Leona said.
Leona scooted by him and made her way around the room. The pink of her nighty that peeked through the robe was the most colorful thing in the room. As she sauntered to the control station, she ran her fingers along the multitude of buttons.
“Fader... EQ...beat loop...cue...tempo,” she recited.
He was impressed. “You know your way around a mixing table.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a studio.” She stopped behind the table and pushed back the rolling chair with her legs.
Luke was sure she referenced Paul’s studio. Anger boiled in the pit of his stomach. He stomped the feeling down and eliminated thoughts of Paul. Leona was here with him. Right now, she was his.
“Wait. Who am I, Luke?” Her energetic question further colored the space.
Laughter rumbled in his chest as she imitated the movements he performed onstage. “I don’t do that.”
She smirked at him. “If you took a video of me—” Leona put up her left hand “—and a video of you—” then put up her right hand “—and played them side by side, you’d see a perfect resemblance.”
“Nah.” He half crossed his arms, and twisted the patch of hair between his lip and chin with one hand.
“Promise.”
“Never.”
“Whatever.” Leona continued touring the studio.
She passed his vinyl collection, which occupied most of the south wall.
“My father still has vinyl in crates. Remember when you had to travel with those?”
“Oh yeah.” He shadowed her. “People still use them. There’s software out there now to mimic that experience even though the music is digital. I still play, mix, and scratch records. I have my purist moments.”
She faced him. “This is impressive, Luke.”
“I finally created the studio I wanted. It’s all insulated and soundproof. My neighbors aren’t too close by, but with these big room speakers, it doesn’t hurt.” He distracted himself with technical talk to quell his yearning for her.
Next to the records, a couch sat off center to the huge window. Leona dawdled past it to stand fully in front of the window.
Leona craned her neck to him. “Trippy.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Leona was quiet, eyeing the speakers around the room. “And he shall have music wherever he goes.”
“What was that?” Luke asked.
“The line is from an English nursery rhyme called ‘Ride a Cock Horse to Banbury Cross.’ It reminds me of you, although, in the version of the nursery rhyme, he is actually a she. Anyway, music is always accessible to you in some way.”
“Yes.” He followed her but left a few feet between them.
“There’s something charming about that.” Leona moved past the controls and toward the end of the production table.
She spoke like she knew what was in his soul. If she kept talking like that he’d explode before he made it to dessert.
Luke waited.
Between the production controls and the wall of speakers was a large cream-colored furry blanket. At the center, a pair of white headphones lay atop a round silver plate. The headphones were made of white leather, pillow cushioning on the earpieces, and the cord plugged into an amplifier. A knife and fork framed the headphones, on either side, like a place setting.
“What’s this?” Leona faced him.
He dwindled the space between them and held her hips. “Dessert.” He pressed her back so that her ass met the plush blanket. He untied the strap to her robe, slid the material off her, and tossed it aside. He pushed the silver tray, utensils, and headphones out of the way, and then lifted her to sit on the blanket.
She gasped and gripped his shoulders. “I don’t understand...”
He kissed her into silence. “Shh.”
He plugged the digital music player he’d presented her with in the kitchen into the equipment. He adjusted a few buttons and tapped on others.
He picked up the headphones before speaking to her. “I want you to listen to me because this is the last time you’ll hear my voice for a while.”
“Okay,” Leona said.
He hung the headphones around his neck, then slid a few additional buttons to enhance the sound. He brought one earpiece to his ears to evaluate the sound level.
“This is your playlist, Leona. You inspired it. It’s music that I’ve created and wanted to share with you. Now the hard part.” He placed his hands on the table, trapping her between them. “No matter what happens, do not take these headphones off. Understand?”
After a long moment, she responded. “Yes.”
Nervousness thinned her declaration.
“Do you trust me?”
“I trust you.” She touched his arm with her delicate fingertips and a shiver ran through him.
Her confidence infused superhuman pride in him.
He put the headphones over her head and ears before adjusting them to the correct fit. The thick cushioning on the earpiece appeared twice as large on her head.
“Can you hear me?” he asked in a normal tone.
“Yup.”
He flipped a tiny switch on the side of the headphones.
“Whoa.” Her eyes widened. “It’s like someone just sealed me into an airtight container.”
He tapped her chin. “Can you hear me?” he asked her again.
“What?” Leona tilted an ear at him. “I can’t hear you.”
Luke gave her the thumbs-up. The noise-cancelling feature was activated and she couldn’t hear much outside the headphones. He swiped a piece of paper from a table nearby and turned on the music.