by Lolah Lace
“Why do you wear a cross around your neck?”
“Because my mum gave it to me. It’s fashionable and I am a fashion icon.”
“So you don’t believe in God?”
“I did when I was young and stupid.”
“So, now what are you?”
“Okay, Doc I see what you’re doing?”
“What am I doing?” He tapped his pen on his notepad that sat in his lap. I never noticed either item until now.
“You’re trying to say I’m still young and stupid.”
“Are you those things?”
“No, I’m not. I’m a Grammy award-winning multi-millionaire.”
“Does money make you smart?”
“No, of course not. I earned my money. I didn’t inherit it. I haven’t squandered it so that makes me pretty fucking intelligent.”
“Does having money make you happy?”
“It surely doesn’t make me sad.” I barked.
“I’m trying to understand why you took this path.”
“What, the path of heroin, cocaine and assorted party favors?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
“It’s not something I planned. The drugs were there. I said, why not.”
“You shouldn’t make light of addiction. It is not beneficial to belittle its effects and the negative impact it has played in your life. Tell me the first time you tried drugs.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Every addict remembers their first hit.”
I thought about it and the incident appeared in my mind. “I was doing a gig in Hackney. It was raining. I didn’t have a brolly. It wasn’t dry when I hit the stage. The house drummer had some diesel. I’m fifteen and I’m don’t know what the fuck it is. I’m used to yay. We went back to his place for a party. There was this older girl. She does the brown right in front of me and I do it too. I didn’t want to look like a baby.”
“Why did you feel like you had to impress this older girl?”
“I’m Jagger Bowie Adkins. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”
“Did she know who you were?”
“Yes, of course. She’d seen me on the tele in Kiddie Kingdom when I was a lad. She’d seen my films too.”
“So it’s safe to say she was already impressed.”
“I guess so.”
“You didn’t have to do drugs to impress her. Your talent was sufficient.”
“Well, when you say it like that it all seems a bit pointless. I wanted to shag her. I thought if I did the brown with her she would let me have a proper go.”
“You know it’s important that during your recovery you stay away from having any intimate relationships.”
“Yes, I know shagging is strictly prohibited.”
“The focus is on you and your recovery.”
“The focus had always been on me. That’s my life story.”
“I’m here for you. I want to make it clear to you that you come first.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“The record company pays you for this little babysitting contract.”
“It doesn’t matter where the money comes from. It’s my ethical duty to put your health and well being first. The record company doesn’t control me and they don’t control you either.”
“Well, they certainly seem to think they control me. Sometimes I lash out. I want to be my own person.”
“I want that too.”
“I think they’re afraid of me. If I stop, the money stops. If I die, everything dies with me. I own the rights to my music, my likeness, my name, and the band’s name.”
“You have a lot of responsibility. Do you feel overwhelmed?”
I carefully thought about his question. “All the time.”
“Do you feel suicidal?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Have you ever seriously considered the impact your death would have on the people who know you and listen to your music?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because when I’m getting high I’m only concerned about myself. I’m chasing my high. I’m blocking out everything to feel like the best me I can be.”
“You ever think you can be the best you while sober?”
“It’s possible, I suppose. But I’ve been smoking weed since I was twelve and heroin since fifteen. It’s a way of life.”
“There has to be at least one musician that died of a drug overdose that you admired.”
“Not just one, many. I mean Amy. She was a great singer-songwriter. I met her once when I was a small lad. I was on Kiddie Kingdom. She told me she watched the show. I don’t know if it was rubbish but it sure made me feel good. My mum loved Amy’s music. She played Back To Black all the time. Amy died when I was ‘round seven or eight and I just remember feeling extremely sad. When Amy died it was like my mum had died all over again.”
“So you were aware at a young age that addiction could kill you but you still did drugs.”
“There’s no logic in it. I’m not as intelligent as I seem.”
“You and I both know that’s not true. You’re highly intelligent. You play multiple instruments. You write music. You have also made a lot of lucrative business deals for yourself without having any parental influence.”
“I didn’t really have parents.”
“Your aunt.”
“She was my ward for a bit.”
“Then you emancipated yourself at sixteen. Why?”
“I needed to make my own decisions. I didn’t trust my aunt’s new partner. It’s difficult for me to trust new people.”
“Have you ever thought that your addiction problems were hereditary?”
“I see what you’re getting at. My father was an addict so I’m an addict.”
“That’s a possibility.”
“My father wasn’t always a drunk. He gave up after my mother died. I just went on with my life and he fell completely apart. His life was in shambles. It feels like he loved her more than me.”
“There isn’t a competition for her love. He was her husband and you are her son. It’s completely different.”
“I hated him because I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t snap out of it.”
“Everyone handles grief differently. His grief consumed him while yours— what did your grief do?”
“I wanted to make my mum proud. I didn’t want to waste away after she put all this sodding effort into me. All the piano lessons, guitar lessons, and singing lessons, she didn’t believe in wasted talent. She believed in me, her son.”
“Do you think that she is the only person that believed in you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you miss her?”
“Of course I do. I’m twenty and I don’t have a mum.”
“So there is a void?”
“I don’t know if there’s a void. She never got to see me on stage, the real stage as a proper musician. She didn’t see my first feature film.”
The therapy hour was draining. I left mentally knackered. I had become accustomed to it. I was used to talking but not necessarily talking about myself. The bike ride to Sweet Treats helped to clear my head of all the rubbish that was mentioned in the session.
Galena was beautiful in its way. I liked the lights in the big cities. In the states, Las Vegas was one of my favorites. I could see myself in the penthouse suite of some Vegas hotel overlooking the strip with Kat in bed next to me. I could dream.
I’d never had a problem getting any lady I wanted. But Kat was going to be tough. I didn’t think she was attracted to me at all. I couldn’t be sure. She was hard to read. I knew my flirty lines and swagger wouldn’t work on her. She was special. She didn’t know Jagger. She only knew Jason. I was very committed to playing the role of Jason but it was far from an Oscar-winning performance. I called Illinois, Illinoisss. What an idiot.
Chapter 6
&
nbsp; KATRINA
After three profitable weeks, manning the store wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I was able to edit five books for my publishing company. All of the manuscripts were Young Adult novels in different genres. I was most comfortable with YA because the romance was limited to PG-13 or there was no romance at all. My lack of a love life made it impossible to read any sappy romance novels. I wasn’t interested at all.
I had a feeling I was going to fall behind schedule but this fresh air and clean living were just what I needed to stay on track. So far my real job wasn’t in jeopardy because of Sweet Treats. It seemed that I didn’t have anything to worry about.
I had to give credit where it was due. My saving grace was my eager and willing employee. Jason stayed until closing almost every night. He swept the floors and took out the garbage. Every evening I watched him hop on his bike and pedal away. He was a godsend. He never complained or was late. He was really like Superman in the store.
I always locked the doors of the store after he left. He always reminded me to set the alarm. I appreciated Jason’s ability to stay until closing. Being alone at the store at night would’ve had me a little spooked. His presence gave me one less thing to worry about.
Galena was probably one of the safest towns in America but sometimes it was nice to have a man around. I felt safe when I was married to Erik. Then less safe after he started staying out at all times of the night. After the divorce, I didn’t feel safe at all.
Things changed in my marriage when Erik stopped coming home at night. He was so disrespectful. He didn’t give a damn about the union we shared or the family we created. I didn’t have time for that level of hurt in my life anymore. Sometimes I would wonder what I could’ve done differently. What could I have done to make the marriage work? It took me a long time to recognize there wasn’t anything I could do. I had to let it go.
After three weeks operating Sweet Treats and no hiccups, I woke and glanced at my cell phone. Shit! It was ten-thirty-two. The store opened at ten. Panic! I was late opening the store. I’d overslept. It had to be because I took allergy medicine last night. I didn’t have the non-drowsy and the pharmacy was closed that late. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was never irresponsible.
I looked at my cell again. I didn’t have any missed calls from Jason. I knew he’d gone back home after I didn’t open the back door for him.
I jumped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. I had to shower, brush my teeth and get dressed. I had to open the store and call Jason to apologize. I would be pissed if I biked miles to a job and wasn’t able to work.
I moved with purpose and speed. I took a quick shower and dressed in jean shorts and a tan blouse. I grabbed the first clean thing I saw. I brushed my teeth, put on deodorant and didn’t have time for much of anything else. I slipped on my sandals and brushed my hair into a single high ponytail. I unlocked my apartment door and stepped into the landing.
As I walked down the steps I heard faint noises. Nothing alarming but still noise. As I approached it was the distinctive sound of music. Then there were voices. I tiptoed down and contemplated whether I should go back upstairs for a weapon.
A feminine giggle lured me further down the steps. When I hit the first floor I peeked around the corner. Jason— he was standing behind the candy counter on the left. He was talking to a girl. She was more like a young woman. She was fully developed and wearing coverall shorts, a crop top, and drug store flip-flops.
My racing heart was gradually slowing down. I had so many questions but nothing seemed to be peculiar or out of the ordinary. Jason was smiling and the girl was too. I noticed the bag of candy in the counter. She’d bought something. I was sure he hadn’t given it to her for free. Her wallet was on the counter and Jason was keen on not giving out too many samples.
He noticed me as I approached.
“Hey, boss.” His twisted smile was truly disarming, charming and not the least bit alarming.
“Hey,” I said with a bit of disorientation in my face.
I could see the young girl checking me out. Her bright blue eyes made that abundantly clear. It was unusual to be scrutinized by a girl this young. She was really giving me the once, twice and thrice over and I was old enough to be her mother. Did she really think I was competition for her? It was cute and flattering. She would’ve made my day if I cared about such things.
I wanted to laugh at the silliness of the situation but I didn't. I held it together. Instead of saying anything more, I walked out of the room altogether. I went into the kitchen to fix my face.
I waited for the bells on the door to jingle. When they did, I knew she’d left the store. I walked back into the storeroom and stood across the counter.
Jason turned the already low music down to barely a hum.
“Okay, so how did you get in?” I asked. “Why didn’t you call me on my cell? Why didn’t you wake me? Why didn’t you knock on my door?” He was grinning from ear to ear. “Why are you smiling at me?” I wanted to know. I needed answers.
“You look so cute when you rattle on like that.”
“Jason.” I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help it.
“Okay Kat, which question do you want me to answer first?”
“How did you get inside this store?”
“There’s a key hidden in the backyard. I used it to enter after I rang the bell and knocked incessantly.”
“A key. Where is this key?”
“I put it back outside.” He licked his lips and it was a bit distracting but whatever.
“Where was it hidden?”
“It’s under the cushion on the chair closest to the grill.”
“How did you know that?” His nonchalance was infuriating.
“I clean this place inside and outside. I found it when I was cleaning the backyard.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“That the key was under the stupid cushion.” I realized my hands were on my hips.
“I thought you put it there.”
“Why would I put it there?”
“It’s your shop.” He shrugged.
I instantly felt stupid. I didn’t have a clue there was a spare key. Sure the store was half-owned by me but I abandoned this place a long time ago. I didn’t know much about the place at all. Cherise only had time to show me the basics.
Jason’s soft brown eyes were gazing into me, examining me. I didn’t know what to say. What could I say that didn’t make me look like an idiot? I had come off somewhat hostile and I wished I didn’t. He hadn’t done anything but his job.
“Kat—”
“So you just let yourself in and opened the store?”
“Yes, that’s what I did.” His face was flawlessly confused. “You told me you were going to take some allergy medicine before bed because you were having a slight allergic reaction to something unknown. We never could pinpoint what it was but you assumed it was something that you ate. When I arrived, I thought that you probably took the medication and was sleeping it off. Your car is parked in the garage out back. I knew you were here. I didn’t think you were ignoring my knocks and the doorbell ringing on purpose. You wouldn’t do that. We ended the night without any quarrel. But more importantly, how are you feeling this morning?”
His story seemed plausible.
“I’m fine. Better, I think I’m fine.”
I felt like such an idiot for asking him all those questions. Over a week ago, I drove by the house he lived in with his aunt and uncle. The place was huge and expensive. Jason obviously didn’t have to steal from me. What the hell was he going to steal— candy?
I frowned at myself. I felt like crap. When I looked down I saw that Jason had taken my hands in his. What was he doing?
“Kat, I’m here to help you. That’s why you hired me.”
I looked back up into his eyes. He was being really sincere. I was caught off guard because something about this moment seemed intimat
e. It wasn’t sexual but it was something else I couldn’t explain.
“Kat, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry when I’m around. You might find this hard to believe but I can handle anything.”
Not sure why my heart picked up the pace but it did. This kid was a really good liar or the sweetest young man ever. He was helpful, smart, and wise beyond his years. While I was thinking about this, he gently kissed my knuckles. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me.
I wasn’t ready.
At first, I fell into his embrace. Three seconds later I snapped out of it and remembered he was twenty years old and my employee. I had leather boots older than him. Although I couldn't fit the boots because my feet had jumped two sizes after being pregnant twice, but that was beside the point. I had shit in my closet older than Mr. Jason Smith. I slowly pulled away from Jason. I didn't want to offend him. I was the one that interrogated this kid for just doing his job. He did me a solid and I was acting like a real psycho.
It was hard for me to trust people and I knew it. My cruel and painful divorce had a lot to do with my newfound skepticism of all men. But everybody wasn’t a liar, a cheater or just a flake. My father was this perfect man in my eyes. Now that I look back I felt I tried to hold every man to this unattainable standard and that was just a fantasy. Men like my father were relics. They were cast from some old school design that went out of style a long, long, time ago.
“Kat, are you really feeling okay? You’re acting wonky.”
“I’m fine.” I shrugged his words off. I couldn’t let it be. “Okay, wait a minute. What about the alarm? You had the key but I know I put the alarm on before I went to bed last night.”
Jason’s lips twisted. I could see he was done with this conversation. “I’ve seen you activate the alarm.”
“When?”
“I don’t remember when. No, maybe a week after I started working here.”
“What’s the alarm code?”
“77, 9, 0, 1. I have a really good memory.”
“So you got the key from under a couch cushion and opened the door. You came inside and deactivated the alarm.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I did.” He was so blasé about it. “Literally, that, exactly.”