I bite at my lip as I grin. “Thank you, Karen. Drive safe.”
“Enjoy your evening, Ms Russell.”
When I close the door, I turn around to find Sandra looking at me with her mouth open and her expression… hurt. Shit. How long was she standing there? So much for watchdogs. I give Perry a nudge with my foot for not reacting when she came back from the bathroom. He snorts and rolls onto his back.
“Mr Bailey? As in Marcus? That was Marcus Bailey’s car out there?” Her voice rises in pitch with each question.
“Sandra.”
“You said you didn’t know whose car it was. You said nothing was going on between you two.”
“It’s not what you think. I’m not dating him,” I flounder, trying to rescue the situation. I had hoped to have this conversation when I understood Marcus’s and my relationship better. I don’t know how to explain the situation when I don’t even know how I feel about it or how long it will last. Or even what it is.
“Then why hide it?”
“I’m not hiding it. I’m just not ready to talk about it. He showed up a couple of weekends ago, and we’ve hung out twice. I’ve made it very clear nothing will happen between us.”
“He told you he’s interested in you?”
“No. Yes. Shit. I don’t know. It’s just really complicated right now. He thinks he wants me, but I think he’s just tired of touring and I’m as normal and boring as it gets. The moment he realises that, he’ll go on tour and forget all about me. I’m a flight of fancy.” I’m rambling. This feels like when my teenage bestie wanted to date the new DJ in a club we frequented. He came over and asked me out and even though I rebuffed him, our friendship ended. Being a girl can really suck.
“And you’re OK with that? You’re OK being just another girl on his conquest list? Didn’t you learn anything from my encounter with him?”
“I’m not a conquest. We’re just friends,” I argue, even though our heated argument suggests we’ve moved beyond just friends.
“I don’t think a man like Marcus Bailey can do ‘just friends’, Lisa. You’re being naïve.”
“I’m not naïve, Sandra. I know who and what he is. But he’s pushed his way into my life. I’m totally out of control in this entire—I don’t know what it is—thing!” I throw my hands in the air, unable to find a better word for the intense push and pull between us.
“And what happens if this ‘thing’”—she uses her fingers to air quote—“turns into something more? What are we going to do? Sit together and trade stories about how hot it is when he touches you a certain way in bed?”
My stomach twists and sours. “It’s not like that. I haven’t even touched the man.” My face burns with discomfort. Even though I knew, it’s only just hit home with me how many women in this world have that kind of intimate information about Marcus. I sit down to stop myself from becoming dizzy. “I don’t…” I can’t even find words to explain how I feel right now. “Maybe you should go. I don’t want to discuss this anymore.”
Perry comes over and places his head on my thigh, lifting his eyes to look at me with as much concern as a dog can muster. I sit back and let him jump on the couch next to me. It’s not that I’m some paragon of virtue. I’m just not interested in competing with every other red-blooded female with two eyes in their head.
Sandra kneels in front of me and places her hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, Leis. I don’t want to fight with you. And I know I must sound crazy right now. I have no right to tell you whom you can and can’t see. I just… I want you to be careful with him, OK? I know you don’t pay any attention to the who’s who of this world, but being around a guy like Marcus means something, you know? He’s used to getting who and what he wants, and he’s used to women being disposable. I don’t want you hurt the way I was. You’re not used to dealing with these kinds of men, and I feel responsible for putting you in his crosshairs.”
“It’s OK. I know your heart is in the right place.” I place my hand on top of hers and swallow down the lump in my throat. She has no idea how used to these kinds of men I am. I’ve been surrounded by them most of my life. Hell, I almost married one….
Eight
Marcus
“Thanks, man. That was an epic cover.” The producer shakes my hand when I stand to leave the studio.
“It was a great song choice.” After recording the short interview with the DJ, I was given some time to prepare my cover version of Dire Straits Romeo and Juliet before we recorded that too. I’m familiar with the song, but the trick to these things is making the song my own and not singing an exact replica.
As annoyed as I was when Craig sprung this on me, I have to say I’ve had a pretty good time. I remember listening to Triple J when Theo and I first started out. It was a dream of ours to do Like a Version, and now I’m here doing it without him. Like all our dreams of fame, I’ve achieved them alone. I left my brother behind.
Shit. There goes my conscience again, the niggling voice in the back of my mind telling me this would have been better with Theo and the guys. Shut up.
“I knew you’d do Dire Straits justice. I love what you did at the high point; the way your voice cracked on the word ‘place’. Magic.”
“Thanks. And thanks for recording me early. I know you usually do this live. But I appreciate your understanding and all.”
“Hey man, we all need a break every now and then.” He claps me good-naturedly on the shoulder. “Listen, there’s a bunch of us going to see a few up and coming bands early next month. I’m sure you have big plans to relax, but it would be great if you could come along and lend your support to the little guys.”
I can see he doesn’t expect me to say yes, but honestly, I wouldn’t mind going to a small gig. It’s probably just what I need to remind me where I came from so I can appreciate where I am before I’m forced back into touring.
“Yeah. That could work.”
“Awesome.” He nods, sounding cool but looking a little surprised as he pulls the flyer for the gig out of a pile of papers on a nearby desk. “We’ll probably get there around nine. We’ll be up on the Mezzanine level. Do you want me to tell the door guys you’re coming?”
“No, I’ll go in the same as everyone else. I’ll find you.” I hold the flyer up. “See you then.”
We do a handshake/back slap combo, sealing the deal then I leave the studio to find Karen sitting in reception.
She holds out my car keys. “She said thank you for the bag of cholesterol,” she says as she drops them in my outstretched hand.
A stupid smile curves my lips. “I’m glad she liked it.”
“She also asked me to tell you she was sorry for yelling at you.”
“Wow.” I didn’t peg her for the apologising type. Plus, I deserved it.
“I advised her against apologising since you’re a cocky bastard who needs a woman who’s unafraid to put you in your place.”
I’m still smiling as I drag my teeth over my bottom lip. “You would know best,” I say. Part of what I love about Karen is her no-nonsense attitude.
She reaches out and adjusts the collar of my leather jacket. “Of course I do. I’m the only female you keep around for more than five seconds.”
“Give me some credit, Karen, I last longer than five seconds.”
“Fine. Ten seconds,” she teases, causing me to laugh.
“Gee. You’re too kind.” I gesture to the exit, and we start walking to our cars.
“I wonder if maybe you should try taking things even slower with this one. I think she’ll be good for you.”
“You think?”
She nods as we reach her car and she opens the drivers' door. “I’ve never seen you like this. Ever since you met her you’ve been smiling. It looks good on you.”
“That could be terrible for my bottom line. These brooding good looks sell my brand.”
She chuckles. “I think you’ll be fine. But can I offer some advice?”
“Isn’t that what
you’ve been doing?”
“Keep it private. She’s a regular person who doesn’t understand your world. Try to keep her safe from the crazy fans. The last thing she needs is some jealous mob attacking her via hate mail.”
“I couldn’t agree more. And she’s already expressed her desire to keep our connection on the down-low. We even have a caveat that if her picture turns up in a gossip column, she’s out.”
Karen nods, her lips pressed together, impressed. “Smart girl.”
“Right? What the hell is she doing hanging around with an idiot like me?”
She laughs as she gets into her car. “Oh, I’m sure you’re not giving her much choice in the matter, Marcus.”
I shrug one shoulder. “Can you blame me? I can’t afford to let another one get away.”
“I understand. Just don’t smother the poor girl, either. Slow and steady wins the race.”
“Duly noted.” I lean forward and drop a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for your help today.”
“I’ll make sure tomorrow stays clear so you can rest.”
“I appreciate that.”
She turns the key, and I shut the door, stepping back as she backs out of her space, waving as she exits the parking lot. I stand there for a moment, watching the red of her taillights as she turns and drives down the street and out of sight. I have no idea what I’d do without a Karen in my life.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, eager to call Lisa. I really messed up when I grabbed her wrist at the café. I should have kept my cool instead of getting aggressive and demanding. And I really shouldn’t have taken off in her car the way I did. I fucked up today, more than a packet of tex-mex can fix. But I have hope. She said OK. She said thank you. She said sorry. Not that she has anything to be sorry about…
I am the exception to mother-fucking rule.
I smile as I bring her number up. Yes, she fucking is.
Lisa
I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I can’t risk being in your world. Please respect my wishes and don’t call, don’t visit. This is what’s best for both of us. Goodbye
I stare at the text message I’ve written and rewritten a thousand times since Sandra left. It’s for the best. It’s definitely for the best. But still, I haven’t managed to send it. No matter how I word it, it either feels too harsh, or not harsh enough. Not that I think he’ll listen even if I do send it. I’ll have to relocate if I want Marcus Bailey out of my life before he’s ready to leave.
When Sandra called me naïve, she hit a raw nerve. Not because I was being naïve about who Marcus is, but because I was being naïve about what having him in my life would mean. I had started to convince myself that we could skulk around, let our unwanted attachment fizzle out before anyone noticed. But I’ve been kidding myself. There’s a reason famous people are called stars. Get too close, you’re bound to get burned. I don’t want to get burned again. I’ve had enough social carnage brought on by celebrities to last a lifetime.
Shit. I’m over thinking this. I should just send the message and turn off my phone. Maybe go stay with extended family for a couple of days until he quits looking for me.
Just send it!
Taking a deep breath, I hold my thumb over the green arrow. Now or never.
My phone jumps to life in my hand and the M for Marcus flashes up on my screen. Holy fuck. Did he see the dots moving and realise I was messaging him? Crap. For a while, I just stare at the letter, telling myself to ignore. Ignore.
My thumbs swipes across the screen. “Hello.” This is the opposite of ignoring! I hate myself right now.
“Dire Straits. Romeo and Juliet.” The rich depth of his voice simmers below the surface of my skin. Nothing good can come of this. A smile curves my mouth and I close my eyes. I am a moth and he is the flame.
“Can you play it for me?” I did not just ask that.
“I don’t have access to the recording. I’m driving.”
“Oh. Maybe you could just sing it for me. I can imagine the music.”
I swear I hear him smile. “You want me to sing to you?”
“Uh-huh.” A pressure builds in my chest, making it hard to breathe. What is going on with me? I’m smarter than this.
“OK.” I wait a beat as he clears his throat then hums the intro before launching into the lyrics. I lie back on the couch, the smooth velvet of his voice filling my ears, my body, tingling in my veins and hurting my heart. He sings about poor timing, tears while making love, a forever outside their grasp. It’s beautiful, and he’s beautiful. But it only serves to remind me that he and I are all wrong. As friends, as lovers, as anything at all.
“Thank you,” I whisper, wiping a tear as it falls from my eye.
“Are you crying?”
“No. I’m happy. It was beautiful. I think that maybe you have real talent.”
He chuckles, and I have to take a deep breath to keep my emotions in check. “How’s your wrist?”
“Better.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
A beat passes before he sighs. “I’m not very good at this.”
I grin. “At treating a woman like a human? You’re terrible actually.”
He chuckles again, and I decide it’s my favourite sound. “I’ll work on it. When can I see you again?”
“I don’t know if I can handle you.”
“Worried you’ll go back on your word and give me what I want?”
“I don’t want my world to change.”
“I promise to protect your world, Lisa. Give me a chance and I’ll create a world for you.”
Placing my hand against my forehead, I fight the swelling of my breast and the flipping of my stomach. I focus on the drama and the insanity of our brief time together.
“Marcus…”
He releases his breath slowly. “I won’t let my world hurt you, Lisa. I’m not going to hurt you either.”
“But it will happen anyway, our worlds will collide whether we want them to or not.” I close my eyes.
“But we can prolong it. Ease you into it. Hell, we can ease me out of it.”
“You’d do that?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know I want you.”
“You can’t build your life around wanting, Marcus. There’s a lot about me you don’t know. I think it’s best for us both to end this here and now. You go live your life, and I live mine.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Please don’t be difficult. I don’t want a life in the spotlight.”
“I’ll keep you out of it.”
“You can’t. You’re Marcus Bailey for fuck’s sake. Please don’t fight me on this. I’ve made up my mind.”
“No. I’m not letting this go. Lisa, you’re the first woman I’ve wanted to spend time with in… forever.” Oh my god, he’s so pigheaded.
“You and I both know that isn’t true. You’ve spent plenty of time with plenty of women.”
“I fuck women, Lisa. I don’t talk to them. I don’t call them. I don’t sit beside them watching movies with their dog or having coffee with them.”
“That’s not true either. What about Naomi Prendergast? You must have known her. You said you loved her.”
“She’s always said I was in love with the idea of winning her. And on reflection, I think she was right. I didn’t take the time to know her, I spent all my time trying to fuck her just like every other girl. With you, it’s different. I like spending time with you. I like sitting on your couch with a dog in between us. I like listening to the sound of your voice, knowing there’s a chance I could win you over. Even if you never return any sort of affection, I will still like you.” And, my ovaries just exploded. He’s saying all the right things, and if he was a regular guy, I’d be putty in his hands. But he isn’t regular. Stick to your guns, Lisa.
“What about Sandra Haegen?” I have to force the words out of my mouth, like I’m the lone soldier heft
ing up the drawbridge to protect the castle.
“Who?”
“Sandra Haegen.”
“Isn’t she the reporter you covered for?”
“Yes. She’s also my best friend. And one of your conquests.” The deafening silence on the other end of the line tells me this was the gut punch I intended. “You spent an entire weekend getting to know her, made her feel like she was the centre of the world. And now you don’t even remember her, do you?”
“I…” he starts, and I can feel him sweating in the static. “I’m sorry. No. I don’t remember her.”
“She remembers you. It’s why she asked me to cover for her. She was scared to see you again. Scared you wouldn’t remember and she’d feel used. Scared you would remember and you’d use her again.” My stomach twists, and the backs of my eyes burn as I force myself to go on. “I don’t date men who fucked my best friend, Marcus.”
“Fuck.” There’s a scuffling noise then a crackle before the line clears and I hear him clear his throat. “I’m sorry your friend is upset, but I have never given a single woman the impression we were more than a moment. It was a different time in my life, Lisa. I’m not gonna lie and pretend there aren’t hundreds of girls out there I can’t remember, and maybe some of them feel the same way as Sandra. But I can promise you it’s behind me—hell, I can apologise to Sandra if you think it’ll help—the only woman I’m interested in is you.”
“No, Marcus.” A tear escapes my eye and slides down my cheek. “You only want me because I’m saying no. If I’d slept with you the moment we met, you wouldn’t have given me a second thought. I told you not to pursue me, Marcus. I told you this wasn’t a game. But you did it anyway. Please. Just listen to me for once and let’s end this. I don’t want you.” I bite my knuckle, fighting the flow of tears. We barely know each other and already my emotions are in a tailspin. I can’t trust myself to keep fighting if he keeps pushing.
He inhales, a slow intake of breath that fills his lungs and creates a pause filled with tension. I should just hang up. I should block his number and pack my things, run for the hills because I can’t do this. I can’t.
Rock (Beautiful Book 4) Page 9
