by Lynda Curnyn
At least I succeeded in getting her fired. Tom didn’t care much for drug addicts.
But my quest was ultimately a failure. Because what I discovered during the long and weary nights I spent scouring Tom’s desk for a hidden token of affection for someone else, smelling his clothes in search of a perfume that wasn’t my own, was that I was looking for a reason to walk away from my marriage. Without accepting any blame.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-three
Nick
I sold my soul to the devil. I just hope I get a return on my investment.
When it came down to it, I realized I would do just about anything possible to make this label happen.
The problem was, I couldn’t convince Sage to do anything possible. “Look, Les, I did my best,” I said into my cell phone, my eyes on the ocean before me. “You know chicks. They’re fickle. She might change her mind. Maybe it’s a good thing, right? You gotta finish writing those last few songs for the CD anyway.”
With the fmancials I was working with, I was gonna need to see a return on my investment sooner rather than later. Which meant I needed to get the band into the studio as soon as possible. “So when do you think you’ll be done with the writing? I wanna book some studio time.”
“That’s the problem, man. I haven’t been able to write a word.” I sat up in my beach chair.“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
“You know I don’t kid about stuff like this, Nick. I’m fucking blocked. I think Sage might be my muse.”
Oh, man. I was going to kill Sage. Okay, she wasn’t interested in Les, but did she have to shake her ass in front of him all night at the gig last week? I still didn’t understand why she didn’t like him. Les was a nice guy. But every time I brought up his name,
she glared at me. Then I heard her talking to Zoe about that Vince character she was apparently into now. That old guy from the party. And Sage said something about him having a kid. A kid! Like that was attractive. In fact, I bet if I put Les and Vince in a room together with Sage, she’d come to her senses—quick.
Which gave me an idea.
“Hey, Les, you really want to hook up with Sage?”
“Of course, dude, what the hell have we been talking about here?”
“Then come out to the beach tonight. We’re having a dinner party at the house for Sage.”
“You serious, dude?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. It’ll only take you a couple of hours to get here.” I gave him the Web site where he could get train and ferry information and directions. “Just let me know what ferry you’ll be on and I’ll meet you at the dock.”
“Hey, I owe you one, Nick.”
“Yeah, well, you can consider the debt paid in full once we get those songs recorded.”
“You got it, dude.”
I snapped my phone shut with a smile. I’m still in the game, as long as I keep the ball in play. I just hoped Vince would bring that kid with him tonight—and she spit up all over Sage midmeal. Actually, I wasn’t sure how old the kid was. Well, whatever. Sage wasn’t the guy-with-kid type. She was the hard-living, hard-loving musician type. The Les type.
Yeah, I’m still in the game. Picking up my cup of beer, I gazed down the beach, spotting Francesca, just as some lifeguard threw her over his shoulder and starting running toward the water with her as she laughed and squealed.
Jesus, somebody ought to put that girl on a leash. Like her father, I thought, looking up to find Tom squatting a few feet away from me, pulling something out of a Tupperware container. Mmm. Maybe it was lunch.
One look at the fleshy cluster in his hand and I knew it wasn’t lunch. Far from it, I thought, watching as he slid whatever it was onto the hook he held.
“You know, I couldn’t help overhearing,” Tom began.“Sounds like you’re having a little trouble with the new business?”
“No troubles,” I replied. “Well, just a little management problem with a band I put under contract. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Well, I know a thing or two about management, if you have any questions.”
I nearly snorted. This guy who made ladies’ skirts was gonna teach me about the music business? But then I remembered that Tom’s interest shouldn’t be sneered at. Especially now. And since I had clearly lost the interest of the daughter, maybe I should start working on the father. After all, I was going to need more money. I’d prefer not to launch this label with only one band. Especially a band with a lead singer who wasn’t going to stick to the program.
“Here’s the deal,” I began. “I got this band under contract, but I was hoping to get them in the studio to record sooner rather than later. I’d like to get their CD pressed in a few months. But these creative types, you know? You give them limits, and they’re always pushing.”
“Oh, I know it,” he said. “I’ve got a handful of designers working under me, and they don’t even want to know me when I ask them to alter their perfect bodies to save production costs.”
Whoa. Where was he going with this? “Alter their bodies?”
He laughed. “I mean their designs. But I know a thing or two about design myself. I wouldn’t ask them to do something that would harm their work.”
“I hear you.”
He leaned back on his heels, still holding the mutilated flesh on the end of his hook. “The key, I think, is to get people to trust your instincts. Your leadership.”
I nodded, studying the fleshy concoction. Didn’t he have to, like, put that thing in the water?
“I used to send all my staff to management courses. Even the non-managers, so they could understand what their managers are up against. Good management is an intricate process. It requires a certain finesse. A strength of character.”
I felt my eyes begin to droop. Man, that beer had hit me hard. I could use a nap.
“The most important thing, I think, is to be able to instill confidence in your employees. Let them know who’s in charge.”
Oh, man. This guy was worse than his wife with the advice. I was starting to think they were perfect for each other. I nearly smiled at the thought. Then I remembered I was supposed to be listening.
“Next thing you need is effective communication.”
I nodded encouragingly, despite the fact that I’d heard enough. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Francesca approaching. I guess her little stud had to go back on duty. Well, whatever. I was glad she was coming back. If nothing else, she always broke up the monotony. Man, look at those breasts.
“You can’t hold an employee accountable for his actions,” Tom continued, “if the employee doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong.”
I don’t even have to touch them. Just look, you know? See if those nipples are as perfect as I imagine them to be.
“Hi, Daddy,” she said once she reached us.
Shit, I probably shouldn’t be ogling the daughter in front of Daddy Dear. God, I practically had a woody.
Not that Tom noticed. My woody. Or his daughter, for that matter.
“That’s why clear and concise communication is the key,” he continued.
Francesca brushed past me without a word, settling down on her stomach on the far side of the blanket Tom had laid out earlier. What, I don’t even get a hello? She’s probably still pissed at me about the Les thing. I had introduced them that night, but I didn’t have any control of who he did and didn’t like. Now, as I watched her wiggle that perfect little body on the blanket, carving out some space for those breasts of hers, I was glad he wasn’t interested.
I saw her first, after all.
Not that it was doing me any good, I thought, watching as she opened one eye briefly to glare at me before turning her face away. Maybe she was glaring at Tom. But why would she be glaring at her father?
I looked up at him, realizing he had stopped speaking and was staring at me. No, he wasn’t staring at me, exactly. He was sort of staring with that weird, spacey look he gets sometimes. I raised my eyebrows, as if
waiting attentively for his next words.
“You were saying, Tom?”
“Ah, never mind,” he said. “I gotta go put this line in the water again.”
Creepy. I wondered if Tom smoked a lot of dope when he was younger. He kinda reminded me of this guy Carl I went to college with, the way he shut on and off like that. Spacey. Or something. I turned to look at Francesca again, but she still had her face turned away from me.
Shit. I had definitely lost her. But I still had a shot at her father.
I stood up. “Hey, Tom, you got another rod, man? I’d love to learn how to fish.”
After all, there was no better way to bond with a man than over sports. Too bad I wasn’t much of a sportsman.
But I could be, if given enough reasons.
And I had one very good reason.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-four
Sage
Every party needs a pooper. I think I got a two-fer.
“Sage, get out of this kitchen and get yourself a drink,“ Tom said, once he came out of the shower and saw that I had not only marinated the steaks and made the salad, but had a pot of mushroom risotto simmering on the stove. ”If I’d known you were going to cook the whole meal, I would have come up from the beach sooner. This party is supposed to be in your honor.“
I shrugged, then smiled up at him.“I like to cook,” I told him, realizing as I said the words how true they were. I had enjoyed putting this meal together for everyone. This was exactly how I had imagined the summer to be. Good food, good friends.
Good man, I thought, as I saw Vince’s broad-shouldered form shadow the screen door.
“Anyone home?”
“Vince! Come on in, buddy,” Tom called out.
I watched as Vince greeted his friend. “For you,” he said, holding up one of two bottles he carried.
“Whoa, nice, Vince, nice,” Tom said, taking the bottle of red and studying the label.
“And this,” he said, turning to me, “is for you.”
I glanced at the bottle of champagne he held, noting the fancy French label. Well, this was promising.“Thank you, Vince,” I said, meeting his gaze. “That was very sweet of you.”
“Well, it’s not a celebration without some good champagne. And from what Tom tells me about you, it seems we have a lot to celebrate tonight.”
My smile widened as I studied his handsome features. He looked different. More relaxed than the last time I had seen him, with his daughter. But then, so was I.
“Where’s Sophia?” I asked.
“She’s with her mother,” he replied. Turning to Tom, he rolled his eyes. “Gabriella has a lot of rules when it comes to that kid. She’s taking Sophia out to see family early tomorrow and she didn’t want me bringing her back on the boat late at night.”
A boat? Well, that was even more promising. A beach house, a beautiful man and a boat. He was getting better by the minute. “I didn’t know you kept a boat, Vince.”
“Of course.” He smiled at me. “I love being out on the water.”
And I’d love to be out on the water with him.
“Let me get you a drink, buddy,” Tom said, leading Vince into the living room.
A moment later Zoe came in through the sliding glass door in running shorts and a T-shirt. “What’s going on?” she asked, looking at the spread.
“What’s going on is dinner, Zoe. I told you we were celebrating my promotion tonight. Where’ve you been?”
“I had a photo shoot,” she said sarcastically, as she yanked on her sweaty T-shirt. “Where do you think I’ve been? Did a nice long run. All the way out to the Jones Beach Tower. Remember that thing we used to pass on the way to Jones Beach? We called it the giant penis, remember? Oh— Hi!” Zoe said, her face turning red when she spotted Vince, who had just returned to the kitchen, martini in hand, with Tom.
“Vince was at the Fourth of July party, but I’m not sure you two have had a chance to meet yet,” I said, eager to introduce them. I had already told Zoe a little about Vince. Though she was surprised at my attraction for a man with a kid, she gave a somewhat tentative approval, seeing as I had at least set my sights on someone with a little stability in his life. “Zoe, this is Vince, Vince, Zoe.“ Then I smiled. ”I’ve probably known Zoe for about as long as you’ve known Tom, Vince. She’s my oldest friend.“
“After Nick, of course,” Zoe said. “You’ve known Nick longer.”
“Only by about six months. We all went to high school together.”
“Now that’s scary, huh, Vince?” Tom said. “We’ve got as many years of friendship between us and we’ve only known each other since the beginning of Luxe.”
“Age is just a number,” I said, smiling again at Vince.
“So, Sage tells me you have a daughter,” Zoe said.
I watched Vince nod, his glance moving to me briefly. Did she have to make it so obvious that I had been chatting away about him? “Zoe, don’t you think you ought to take a shower before we eat?”
Zoe caught my look, thank God. I feared she was going to go into her usual rapid-fire line of questioning. And the last thing I needed was for Vince to be uncomfortable. He was a guest at my party.
But he wasn’t, I discovered, a short while later, the only single male guest. Because just moments after I had sat down on the back patio for some pre-dinner cocktails with Vince, Tom, a freshly-showered Zoe and an ultra-primped Francesca, Nick came home, with none other than Les Wolf in tow.
“Hey,” Nick said, his smile broad as he slid open the door, allowing him and Les to step outside.
I narrowed my gaze at him. No wonder he had been so vague about the guest he’d told me he was bringing.
“Sage, you remember Les, right?”
“Hello, Les,” I said, smiling tightly as Nick introduced Les around. I watched as Les mumbled “hello” at everyone. It didn’t take me long to figure out just what Nick was up to, if the way Les kept glancing at me was any indication. I was going to kill Nick for trying to use my celebration to serve his stupid little schemes. He knew I wasn’t interested in Les. In fact, the guy creeped me out, especially the way he stared at me all night at Don Hill’s last week.
As it turned out, however, I didn’t have to worry about Nick’s scheme, because Francesca latched on to Les from the minute he sat down, leaving him to stare numbly at the considerable cleavage she was sporting tonight.
But Nick wasn’t the only one trying to rain on my parade tonight. Because once Donnie and Amanda Havens arrived, Zoe took over.
“I’d like to propose a second toast,” Zoe said, once we were seated around the dinner table and Tom had finished a lovely little speech in my honor. “To Maggie.”
I nearly choked on the champagne I’d just sipped.
Not that anyone else noticed.
In fact, Donnie said, “Here, here. After all, it is the three week anniversary of her death. May she rest in peace.”
“God, I still can’t believe she’s gone,” Amanda said, her eyes beginning to tear up as she touched her glass to her lips.
“Did you know her well?” Zoe asked, standing to refill everyone’s glasses.
“Maggie and Amanda grew up together,” Tom said, his expression turning grim as he held out his glass to Zoe to fill.
“If it wasn’t for Maggie,” Donnie said, “I wouldn’t even be working for Luxe, isn’t that right, Tom?”
Tom smiled. “That’s right. It was Maggie who brought us together.”
“I don’t think I knew that,” Vince said.
“Oh, yes,” Amanda chimed in, “Donnie was out of work, and Maggie talked to Tom, and the rest, as they say, is history. She was always so good to us.”
“To Maggie, then,” Vince said, raising his glass.
“To Maggie,” everyone echoed, clinking glasses.
Of course, I toasted, too. I mean, I had something to be grateful to Maggie for, too—her job. Even so, I resented Zoe for turning the tide of my dinner party. Be
cause turn the tide she did. Soon enough, Donnie and Amanda began reminiscing about Maggie, the dinner parties she threw, the generosity she showed to everyone around her. Even Vince went on a jag about how Maggie had cooked many a meal for both him and Tom when Vince came back from China and his wife surprised him with a divorce. “I don’t know what I would have done without her and Tom to help me through that tough time,” he said, his face pensive.
The only person who seemed to remember that I was not only alive and well but the guest of honor at this fucking party was Les. Every time Francesca paused in her fawning over him, he turned that creepy stare on me.
“So, Sage,” he said now, at what was probably his sixth attempt at starting a conversation. “I brought the new Nick Cave CD to listen to. I got an advance copy, and I figured since you’re as big a fan as I am—”
“Not now, Les,” I cut him off, staring at Donnie with menace as he launched into yet another Maggie story.
By the end of the meal, even Tom was starting to look bleary-eyed. I didn’t blame him. The whole fucking evening was starting to feel morbid.
Which was why I was desperately glad when, shortly after dessert, Donnie and Amanda announced they were leaving.
“Got to get an early start tomorrow if we hope to land a big striper,” Donnie said, winking at Tom.
“That’s right,” Tom said, getting up and beginning to carry the plates to the sink.
I took the opportunity to step onto the back deck with Vince, after giving Zoe a good kick under the table and suggesting that the least she could do was help Tom with the dishes. She got up and picked up a plate, though not without giving me a bewildered look. But that was nothing compared to the wounded expression on Les’s face when I practically told him to fuck off when he tried to follow me and Vince outside. Well, not really. But I did practically close the sliding door on his leg, telling him that Vince and I needed to talk business. And I think he himself may have said something similar to Francesca before he ran off to God-knows-where, leaving Tom’s daughter to sulk on the living room couch, her arms folded across her chest. Nick sat at the other end of the same couch, giving the appearance of watching TV, but I could see him stealing glances at Francesca.
