Rock Star Returns: Carlie's Story (Access All Areas, #2)

by Starr, Candy J

  "He'll probably just book himself," said Jackson. "He's that kind of guy. Total wanker."

  I didn't think so, though. Sure, Alex could be a bit full of himself but he had a great business mind and him playing in his own bar wasn't that newsworthy. Any kind of secrecy in this place led to wild speculation. People loved to talk and make up stories. It gave them something to do.

  My time to spend on speculating about Alex's plans was limited. He'd been right about more responsibility. I had to roster the staff which ended up being a nightmare because already people were bitching about their shifts or canceling them at the last moment. I'd had to fill in two shifts already on top of my own workload. When Chuck had run the bar, he didn't care. If we were short-staffed, he'd just expect everyone else to work harder.

  I couldn't be like that, though. I knew how hard it was on the staff left working. Babs and Sally were the only ones who could be counted on and they worked upstairs most of the time.

  Part of me wondered if it was me. They thought it was okay to dick me around because they didn't really see me as a tough boss, or else they thought I would be on their side when they slacked off. If I had to make a tough call, I'd have to do it soon so that they knew I was serious. Otherwise, they'd think they could flake any time they liked.

  Violet checked the messages on her phone and smiled in that sickly sweet, love-radiating way.

  "Aren't you super busy with all this love stuff? I thought that would be all-consuming."

  She sighed. "Razer's old boss wanted him to come in and do some work for the next few weeks. It means he's earning the bucks but a lot less time together. And he's super tired after work."

  Wow, no wonder she was so edgy. Not only no work but no sex. Well, less sex. Still more than me, though. Because nuns had more sex than I did.

  "The extra money must help."

  "Yeah, he's talking about going up the coast when the job finishes. Combining a holiday with some touring for the band. The guys have been offered a spot on a festival line-up and, if we're headed that way anyway, he figures playing some pubs while they’re there will help. Making the most of summer before it ends. Once we get the dates sorted, at least I can organize that. I can ring places and book some definite gigs. Alex should give me the time off since I'm so super bored."

  She leaned on the bar, twirling the glass in her hands. The break-in conversation worried me. She was building up to something and no prizes for guessing what that something was.

  "So, Holden King?" she said. Subtle. Real subtle.

  "Holden King is not a topic of conversation in this bar."

  I knew she couldn't hold back forever. The curiosity must've been killing her. I should give her some of the details, not the whole awful story. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, it was far too dreary, but there were blanks I could fill in. Before I could say anything, Drew popped up from nowhere. Like some kind of creepy rodent.

  "You were really mean to him, Carlie. That poor guy. You punched him. Not just a punch on the arm like you punch me but a proper punch. That could've really hurt him, even killed him. That's not nice at all."

  "Shut up, Drew. You don't know a thing about the situation so keep your trap shut."

  "It's not like you're a normal girl, either. You work out a lot and have muscles. You do boxing training."

  "Drew!"

  I glared at him in the way that normally made him quiver and run away but he was impervious to that for once. I hoped he realized I had the power to fire him now. Not that I would. No one would run around doing the shit jobs like Drew did.

  "No matter what he did, you should give him a second chance. Everyone in this world deserves a second chance. People can change and become better."

  What the hell was going on with Drew? Had he found religion or been reading those inspirational quotes on Facebook? Or maybe he had a crush on Holden instead of Alex now.

  "What about Hitler? Would you give Hitler a second chance?"

  Ha, that would shut him up.

  "Holden isn't Hitler. He's a really nice guy. And you can't use Hitler in every single argument."

  "Just keep sweeping, Drew."

  Violet sighed.

  "It was a killer punch," she said. "Have you been training?"

  I nodded. I'd been training but not hard enough.

  Chapter 7

  AFTER ALL THE FUSS about the reopening, Alex geared up for the big reveal. Some of the staff were on tenterhooks, Violet especially. He'd set up a meeting time with her for the afternoon and she was freaking out.

  I’d come in early to do stock orders and get the bar rosters together. And, okay, because I was a tiny bit curious myself.

  Violet kept popping out of her office to the bar in the lead up to the meeting. She couldn’t keep still.

  "And another thing, what if I think the bands he booked sucked? I'll have to work with them in the future. Once they've played here once, they'll think they have an 'in' with me."

  I got her a Coke and let her rant at me. I knew it was just nerves.

  "Actually, I'd kill for a coffee," she said. "I'm going to pop down to the cafe. Do you want one?"

  I shook my head. Coffee made me too jumpy. "But if they have those salted caramel muffins, I'll have one of those."

  She left. The walk to the shop would work off her nerves, at least.

  Some guys in overalls walked into the bar. We had them constantly coming and going and most of the time trekking mud all over the carpet. Since the cleaners didn't come in until after closing, someone had to clean that up. And that someone was mostly me. The noise from upstairs got super annoying too. Buzz saws and drilling and all that. If I didn't have music on downstairs, I'd go nuts.

  Alex arrived and sat at the bar.

  "So, is this staff meeting thing going to be a regular occurrence?" I asked him. "And, if so, do we get paid for it?"

  "You don't, because it doesn't concern you and Violet doesn't because it's part of her job. If I call a general staff meeting, then I'll pay people for coming in. By the way, where is she?"

  "She's at the cafe since you weren't due for another fifteen minutes."

  "Shit, I should’ve got her to get me a coffee." He took out his phone to text her.

  Then he gave me a searching look. I didn't like that. Maybe it was because so many people had been dropping shifts. Or maybe because Drew had broken so many glasses this week. I’d yelled at a few customers but less than usual. There was nothing else I could think of.

  Okay, there was also that time I punched Holden King but that had been outside business hours. He couldn't fault me for that. And, if he was going to say anything, he’d have said it by now.

  Was I being paranoid? I didn't think so. Alex ran his fingers through his hair in a way that belied his usual confidence. It didn't look good for me.

  "Violet shouldn't be long," I said, more to break up the tension.

  He was about to say something but then stopped himself. That increased my panic. He wasn't the kind of guy to hold back if he had any kind of issue. Which was fine by me because I didn't have time to second guess the meaning of anyone else's weirdness.

  Violet walked in the door with the coffees in her hands. She sat them on the bar and handed me my muffin.

  “Is this mine?” Alex asked, picking up one of the coffees. “You asked for a strong black? They never make it strong enough there.”

  “Yep.”

  Alex nodded toward her office. I'd been hoping they'd discuss it in the bar so that I could eavesdrop. Sure, Violet would fill me in on the details as soon as the meeting was over but that was an extra ten minutes or more I'd have to wait. At least Alex wasn’t sitting there looking like he was about to pass the death sentence on me. That had been some scary shit.

  Violet led the way, her shoulders slumped and her feet dragging. As much as I felt sorry for her, it was one night out of her life. If she hated the bands or the night went to shit, it'd be on Alex's head, not hers. She took it all so personal
ly. Plus, she got to go on a holiday before it happened. That would make me as happy as fuck.

  I opened the bag and broke off a piece of my muffin. Carbs and sugar, the forbidden combination, but I was starving. If I didn’t scoff this down before Drew got back, he’d eat half of it on me.

  I sat down at the Galaga machine, intending to get some practice in before Alex and Violet came out. My game had been slipping lately. If Drew achieved his ambition of beating me, I'd have to quit forever. Quit Galaga, not life.

  Before I got started, Alex came out of the office. Finished already? Surely not. Violet didn’t follow him.

  Alex walked to the door, not looking at me, and opened it for someone.

  I took another bite of my muffin then nearly choked, a huge lump of muffin stuck in my throat.

  Holden King.

  Holden bloody King.

  No wonder that butthole Alex had been acting cagey.

  The penny dropped. It dropped as fast as my stomach. I vomited a little in my mouth. The special guest for the re-opening. The weird looks Alex had given me. I wasn't getting demoted, I was getting screwed over.

  "This bar is a Holden King free zone. No Holden King music, no Holden King talk and, most of all, no Holden King." I pointed to the sign I'd put behind the bar. I'd printed out a picture of Holden King and given him devil horns and a Hitler mustache. Yeah, I knew that was as petty and childish as you could get but it’d been so damn satisfying.

  Alex waved as if to dismiss me. "This is my bar and we are having a meeting."

  Alex tried to get to Violet's office but I blocked his way.

  "You told me I had free reign if I took this job."

  "Free reign downstairs. This is an upstairs matter. Now settle down and let us through."

  "Over my dead body." Screw him. I had to make a stand.

  "Don't push me on this, Carlie. If you go up against me, you'll lose."

  My hand twitched to punch him. His face wouldn't be so pretty once I rearranged it. But he was my boss and I couldn’t punch him. Not if I wanted to keep my job.

  Holden stood behind him, not saying a thing. He gave me a look that was obviously intended to make me feel guilty but I wouldn't. I refused to feel bad.

  "You knew I wouldn't like this but you went ahead anyway. It's not fair on me."

  Alex pursed his lips, his eyes hard and cold. "You'd be hard to replace but not impossible. This is a business and I run it my way. Any feelings you have should be put aside in the interest of the club."

  He wasn't going to back down on this. Not that I expected it.

  If Alex wanted a spectacular reopening, he couldn’t do better than Holden King. He could fill stadiums nowadays so he didn't need to play a tiny little club. People would kill each other to get tickets to see him play here. Holden playing the opening would be way beyond a splash. It’d be a tsunami.

  But what was in this for Holden?

  I moved out of Alex's way and let him pass.

  "Oh, and another thing, Carlie," he said. "Could you please stop smoking in Violet's office? It's against regulations to smoke on-premises."

  I wanted to ask him why it was okay for all those workmen to smoke while they were working upstairs. That was on-premises too. Alex just wanted to throw his weight around in front of Holden. The urge to punch him grew stronger but I couldn’t say a word. I just waited until he went through the door to Violet's office then gave him the finger.

  I kicked one of the fridges behind the bar. Screw Alex. Screw him in his tight leather pants. I wanted to scream. I could either work here with Holden King coming in all the time or quit my job. Considering I had things to do in my life like pay rent and eat, quitting wasn’t an option. It was two weeks until the reopening upstairs, maybe I could take some time off.

  But should I?

  If I was just doing bar work, it'd be a no-brainer but I was bar manager now. I couldn't take holidays just after getting the job. How much time would Holden King spend in the bar anyway? He'd have to come into soundcheck and to play but it's not like he'd be there more than that. And he'd be upstairs. I might not even see him. I had to be professional about this.

  I took a deep gulp of my drink and made up my mind to persevere, even if it killed me inside. He'd play that gig and be out of town and I'd never see him again.

  I could do that.

  I returned to the Galaga machine. A few rounds would settle my mind. Leaving the bar before Holden King came out of that meeting was a better idea.

  No, screw that. This was my bar and I wouldn't run from Holden. I'd stand strong and show him he no longer had any effect on me. Because he didn't. Except for pure hatred.

  Alex could make me work with Holden around but he couldn't make me like it.

  Tinny music played from the machine.

  Shit, I’d died and I hadn't even made it through the first stage. Was I a complete rookie at this game? I pulled out the plug to restart the machine, wiping that failure from my record forever.

  If only life was that simple.

  Holden King walked out of that meeting like a god. He really did have a high opinion of himself. I didn't even look up from my game. He could see himself out.

  But instead of leaving, he hovered behind me. I hated that so much. I had to concentrate. I couldn't let him distract me from my game.

  He'd get bored and leave when I didn't give him attention.

  It totally put me off, though. I shot too early, my reflexes shot.

  Cold bursts of fear shot through me.

  When I finished though, he was still there. I didn’t want to talk to him. I hadn't really spoken to him since he'd come back. I had nothing to say. How do you tell someone they destroyed you? Either they already know and they don't care or they never cared enough to know.

  I couldn’t not talk though.

  “Are you going to hover there like a big creeper?” I stared at the machine.

  “I could play you.”

  “I thought you’d already done that.’

  With that sick burn, I got up and went to the bar. If he wanted to say something, he could have his say and then leave. We opened soon and I didn't have time to stand around chatting.

  "We're going to be working together, Carlie. At least we can be civil with each other."

  "Sure, how's this for a plan, you keep away from me and I won't punch you again?" That seemed like a reasonable compromise to me.

  He settled himself down at the bar without taking his eyes off me. It annoyed me like hell but a part of me thrilled that he would still look at me in that way. He still sent that buzz of excitement through me. I didn't want that buzz. I wanted nothing he could give me.

  He ran his fingers through his hair. That was another one of my weaknesses, the way he did that. So casual, yet he moved his fingers in a way that made me envious of his hair.

  All the weaknesses I had concerning him had to be plucked out of my life. Like weeds in a garden, you had to destroy them at the roots or they'd take over.

  "It's not so simple," he said, his eyes pleading with me.

  I told myself not to meet his eyes. That was the way to destruction. It was a trick he used to make you do what he wanted. The poor lost little boy look. You felt compelled to try to make things better, to put your arm around him and tell him it would be alright, because you would make things right for him. I mentally blocked that look. He could have all the pleading eyes he wanted, my block would make me impervious. It'd do him good to know that not every woman was shaking in her boots to get to him. Hell, I was shaking in my boots but he'd never know that.

  "It's that simple." I poured myself another drink, not offering him one.

  "No, you see I'm back in town for a reason. I want a second chance with you. I'm going to prove to you that I'm worth it. In fact, I'm not leaving this town without you."

  He said it with total conviction as though stating he was going to the shop to get a carton of milk. It was just a line he spun.

  "Yeah,
right," I said. "Not going to happen."

  I leaned back against the dark corner of the bar. I didn't want him to see me in the light. I didn’t want him reading my expression or seeing that glimmer of longing I knew was in my eyes. Hell, I could say I’d be strong against Holden all I wanted but it was a constant fight.

  "Carlie. Carlie. You say that but you can't even look at me. What we had was good. Don't you ever wish we were back together? Don't you think of me?”

  “No. I never think of you.”

  I brushed my hair back from my face, willing the tears not to come to my eyes.

  “I need you. I need you to be in my life. I'm not sure yet how to convince you of that but I will. You can't fight what is meant to be."

  My heart wrenched out of my chest cavity. That was not what I'd been expecting at all. I'd said I wouldn't throw any more punches at him but my hand twitched to throw something, to scream and kick and tell him to get out and never come back.

  I could fight. I'd fight with every fiber of my being. He thought he’d waltz into my life and win me back but he was a damn fool.

  I had my pride and I had my anger. Those things were enough to keep me warm at night.

  He wasn’t leaving. And he wasn’t taking his eyes off me. I tried to ignore him and focus on the stock orders but all the numbers blurred and I couldn’t read a damn thing.

  I grabbed my cigarettes and walked out of the bar. Shit, I’d have to go into the back alley since Alex was still in Violet’s office.

  Chapter 8

  WHEN I GOT BACK TO the bar, Holden was gone.

  "Everyone deserves a second chance," that's what Drew had said. Had he known something I didn't when he said that? I'd have agreed with him in other circumstances but Holden deserved no chances. I'd given him a second chance once. I'd given him a third, even a hundredth. All of that meant nothing. It just made me a sucker.

  He said he'd changed but I didn't believe that at all. I just had to think of those stories on the internet. The trouble was that Holden loved women. All women. Too many women. He couldn't keep it in his pants. He'd always been distracted by a pair of legs or a pretty face. Any new territory where he could plant his flag and claim for his own.