Darling

by Gabrielle G

  His jaw clenches, and he closes his eyes. His demeanor changes once again.

  I backtrack. “I’m sorry for asking. You don’t have to speak about your father if you don’t want to. I don’t want to talk about my parents much. They were never very supportive, so I’m sorry for asking. Let’s forget this conversation and talk about something else, okay?”

  He relaxes once more, his hand finding its way back on my body. “I’m going to ask”—he kisses my neck—“even if I know the answer. Is there any chance you can join me on tour?”

  “I can’t. That’s too fast for me.”

  “I know that, of course.”

  He changed a lot of people’s schedules to be with me right now, and he needs a reason why I can’t do the same. I get it. I get him. There’s a vulnerability, a fear of not being loved.

  “You’ll be back on this side of the world in three weeks. Let’s see each other again then.”

  His phone goes off again, but this time, he picks up. “Darling.”

  He shows me he needs to step away and take the conversation further, but he doesn’t go far enough for me not to hear snippets of it. He says a lot of “okay” and “yes” and asks the person not to call him anymore.

  Unwilling to pry, I walk away, leaving my spare key on the table with a note to use it.

  Naomi is waiting for me at the door of the office, coffee in hand and a smirk on her face. “I love the freshly fucked look you have. You have an important meeting waiting in your office.”

  “Who?” I take a sip of my coffee and burn my tongue.

  But Naomi doesn’t answer. When I push open the door of my office, Jules and Debbie are waiting for me with smug smiles and pastries.

  “Spill,” Debbie says before I even have time to sit. She brought her younger child and is rocking her on her hip.

  I’m glad she can pop out kids after trying so hard for a few years, but I wished for a long time that our situations were reversed. Every time I saw her with one of her children, my chest squeezed, and a pinch of jealousy panged my heart, but I got over it in the last couple of years. Or so I thought. Today, seeing Debbie holding her little Lucile, I want one of those again. So much that I stop in my tracks and freeze, looking at them.

  As usual, Debbie reads me fast. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find a babysitter, I know—”

  “It’s okay.” I swallow my tears. “I’m tired and oversensitive. You know I’m over all of this. It’s just… it’s okay, don’t worry.”

  I can see Julie’s worry and Naomi’s doubt, so I smile to reassure them and devour an apple turnover to eat my feelings.

  “So,” Naomi says, knowing better than anyone how to change the subject, “I’m happy Dan came back for you, because I wasn’t totally done with Lars, but Dan changed the schedule of the whole band to be with you, and from what I heard, you freaked out and kicked him out.”

  Julie and Debbie gasp.

  “But then you got your head out of your ass and brought Dan to your apartment. Am I right?” Naomi says.

  “Jeez, your rock star is a gossiper,” Julie chimes. “All Art told me is that he’s back and we could resume our activity.”

  “You’re sleeping with Art?” I ask Jules.

  “Slept with… maybe might be sleeping with some more. I mean, the guy is hot and knows how to use his tool, but I might have fucked his brain out a little too literally. We have nothing in common, and he bores me to death.” She shrugs.

  “Am I the only one here not sleeping with a rock star?” Debbie asks.

  “I can give you Art if you really want a one-night stand with a rock star.” Julie laughs. “So, Anna, are you going to tell us what happened?” She bites into a croissant, getting crumbs all over my floor.

  I look at Naomi, who’s already handing a napkin to Julie.

  “I think I’m in a relationship with Dan Darling.”

  “What do you mean, you think?” Debbie says, still rocking back and forth.

  “Well, we agreed to be exclusive and to see each other once he comes back from his tour so…”

  “So... you’re in a relationship with Dan Darling,” Julie says.

  “Are you okay with that?” Naomi leans in, waiting for my answer.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re allowed to be happy, you know that, right?” Debbie, always the optimist, says while trying to keep her coffee out of her daughter’s reach.

  “I guess so, just what if…”

  “He wants children?” Naomi verbalizes the thoughts I can’t.

  I nod.

  “Well, if you’re already thinking that far ahead, I guess we can start talking wedding and party dresses.” Julie grins.

  My coffee goes down the wrong pipe, and I cough.

  “Shut it, Jules. Let her come to this on her own, or she’s going to freak again,” Naomi says.

  “And you won’t be able to enjoy Lars as much,” Julie volleys back.

  Naomi shrugs. “It’s not… Forget it. As I said, I’m not done with Lars.” She bites her lip, trying to hide a smile.

  “Can we take a minute and think of a not-so-far away time when Anna and Naomi were teaching Jules the rules of sex without involving feelings? It seems the lesson has been applied and the teachers are the ones catching some.” Debbie snorts.

  “I’m not catching feelings!” I mumble while my friends laugh at me.

  “Of course not, honey. You’re in an exclusive relationship with the most wanted singer in the universe because being exclusive isn’t a commitment, it’s just an extra layer of safety, am I right?” Debbie says sarcastically.

  But she’s a genius. What we have is sex in a safe environment. I don’t have to be Dan Darling’s girlfriend. I can be his fuck friend, but his only one. We can masturbate on the phone together and fly to each other when we feel like it. Easy, right?

  “Don’t worry, I’m not in a committed anything. Once I’m done ravishing Art’s body, I’ll tell him to call Dan if he’s feeling heartbroken, so he won’t bother Lars, and you, my dear Naomi, can continue whatever is going on with your rock star. Which we still want details about, so spill.” Julie rubs her hand together. Naomi shakes her head and leaves the office, without saying a word. Typical. She’s so secretive. Debbie and I laugh at Julie’s salacious smile faltering. She used to be such a prude, never wanting to talk about sex. I’ve created a monster.

  14

  Dan

  “So…” Lars approaches me with a coffee. “Our girls talked.”

  Putting my guitar on its stand, I take the coffee he offers. “Our girls?”

  I know he’s had a few nights with Naomi. I called that as soon as I saw her. She’s an Asian beauty and entirely his type with her long silky black hair and I-don’t-give-a-crap attitude. But him implying she’s his girl, I’m surprised. Lars never called anybody his girl.

  “Yeah, Anna, Naomi, and Julie.”

  I widen my eyes in surprise. “You’re sleeping with Naomi and Julie at the same time?”

  He slaps my shoulder. “No. Art is doing Julie. Anyhow, I hear congratulations are in order?”

  “Thanks.” I smile because I have a lot of reason to smile. I’m freaking happy, I’m having great sex, and I love spending time with Anna.

  “Piece of advice?”

  And my smile fades. Lars always has a piece of advice.

  “She scares easily, so don’t fall in love too fast,” he says. “I know you think you’re in this Instalove fucking feeling, but you know you shouldn’t build anything on impulse. She’s been cheated on and there’s more to that story, which isn’t mine to tell. Until a few days ago, she was going through life one one-night stand at a time.”

  “Wasn’t I? Weren’t you? Wasn’t Art?”

  “Yes, but we’re not changing our plans, writing songs for them, and calling it fucking love. It’s not because you feel good with her that you’re in love.”

  “Oh, so the problem is that I wrote a fucking song? Or that I chan
ged our schedule so you can sleep in Naomi’s bed again? Or maybe that I call it love and you’re petrified of what you’re feeling for Anna’s assistant? Once you’re done giving me shit, maybe you can smell your own.”

  Lars shakes his head.

  “And stop patronizing me,” I snap. “You’re not my mother.”

  “I’m just trying to tell you to be careful. It’s all fucking Blossom again. You’re taking everything to heart, and you don’t hear me anymore. If you fall in love fast, you might crash even faster.”

  “You don’t know the hell I live in.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Nothing.” I stand and walk away.

  “Dan.”

  I know what question is coming. I don’t want to lie to him, but I might have to, or he’ll push to cancel the shows, get me hospitalized, and we’ll lose lots of money. And I need the money to buy a castle. I need to build a house for Anna and me. I need to give money to my father. I need to sing, to work, to be the rock star I am. So I walk away.

  “Shit, Lars, can’t you let him be?” Art says.

  “I think he’s off his meds…”

  “Shit!”

  “Indeed.”

  A tear falls from my eye. I can’t be happy without them thinking I’m off my meds. I am, but I would like them to be happy for me. To be happy I found Anna. There’s a lot my bandmates don’t know about me. They were clear they didn’t want to hear about my ex once we were done, so they don’t know why she left me. Or maybe they do, but we don’t speak about it. They also don’t know my father and stepmother hold me by the balls and the only way to get her to let go is by giving the press details of what happened after Blossom dumped me.

  If I have to fall, I don’t want the band to fall with me. I need to find someone who can help me without involving the group. We have publicists and lawyers, but I need someone who has no link to Lars, Art, or John. I rack my brain for the name of one friend or acquaintance who won’t ask thousands of questions if I ask him for the name of his lawyer and publicist.

  The name that comes to my mind first is a guy I met a few months back, and he seemed straight, never any scandal about him. I know for a fact he once had a stalker, the same one as another actor, but unlike that actor, his name never appeared in the press. He said it was because of his best friend. The guy had just started his own law firm and he hated his PR team so much that he took over. Ian Porter is my man… good actor, nice guy. We exchanged numbers for I don’t know what reason and I never called him. Contacting him now might be weird after six months. Better for me to go through Chad.

  Me: Hey favorite PA. I need a favor.

  Best PA in the whole world: Shout.

  Me: I need the name and direct phone number of Ian Porter’s best friend. It’s also his Lawyer and PR.

  Best PA in the whole world: Dex Crawford – Forwarding contact.

  Me: That was fast.

  Best PA in the whole world: We play on the same team.

  Me: What sport?

  Best PA in the whole world: No sports. *wink emoji*

  Should I be worried you need a lawyer?

  Me: Nope. Is he any good?

  Best PA in the whole world: The best.

  Me: I’m not speaking between the sheets.

  Best PA in the whole world: Crawford doesn’t get between the sheets.

  Me: Thanks. Appreciate it.

  Best PA in the whole world: No problem boss.

  I glance around quickly to be sure nobody is listening and call the number Chad forwarded to me.

  “Dex Crawford,” a sharp voice answers.

  “Dan Darling speaking. Is this a good time, Mr. Crawford?”

  “It’s never a good time when a rock star calls. What can I do for you, Mr. Darling?”

  “I might soon be in a situation that could end my career, and I heard you’re becoming the best in the business.”

  “Uh-huh, are you in a place where you can speak freely?”

  “I’m at a studio.”

  “Can you meet me at my office today?”

  “I’m in Montreal…” I say.

  “Canada?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can it wait for you to be back in LA?”

  “I won’t be back before three weeks, and I don’t think so.”

  He grunts. “I’ll be there tonight. Free your evening. Tell Chad to send me where you’re staying.”

  “So you know who gave me your number?”

  “I’m not stupid, Mr. Darling. Who else would give you my number? See you tonight. I’ll text our time of meeting to this number. Is that fine with you?”

  “It is, thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. You don’t know my rate.” And he hangs up with no more civilities.

  Later that day, after telling Anna I can’t hang out with her tonight, I meet Dex Crawford in a conference room at my hotel. Nobody impresses me much anymore, but that kid—I believe he’s not much older than thirty—is something else. I know right away, not only because of his three-piece suit or concerned expression but because of what he emanates, that he’s not there to fuck around.

  Without saying a word, he sits and indicates for me to do the same. Then he joins his hands on the table and waits. I’m silent for a few minutes, trying to organize my thoughts and not sure where to start.

  He clears his throat. “Mr. Darling, you understand you’re paying by the hour. My rate for all my services is high. As much as I love money, I hate losing time. Speak.”

  And I thought I could be a jerk. “Ten years ago, I ended a relationship with Blossom Cohen, a model for a lingerie brand.”

  “Well, she ended it,” Crawford interrupts, sliding a paper my way retracing the chronology of my relationship with Blossom.

  “Right. This was more or less at the same time my father was in a car accident and lost the use of his legs.”

  “Yes, and you were in the car as well, right?”

  “It seems so. I was drunk all the time in those days, and I can’t really remember the few months after the breakup.” I’m still ashamed of that.

  “Go on,” he says as he shows me another paper with articles about the accident.

  “My father says I was driving, but he covered for me.” I wait for a reaction, but he doesn’t say anything. “Blossom and I were in London visiting my father. I was introducing her to him before asking her to marry me. But the visit didn’t go as well, and I had an episode.”

  “An episode?”

  “I’m bipolar.”

  Crawford doesn’t look as surprised as I would expect. “Are you medicated?”

  “Most of the time.”

  “Were you at the time?”

  I shake my head. “I stopped taking my meds once I met Blossom.”

  “Is that why she left?”

  “I believe so. My father ended up in a wheelchair. I’m paying for all his expenses, so he won’t tell the press about my condition and what happened. It’s his demand. I also give my stepmother all she wants and needs. I want to stop paying.”

  “So you think they’ll sell the story to the press.”

  “They will. I’m ready to give them money, but I need most of it to buy the castle I want in Spain.”

  Crawford quirks an eyebrow. “I see. Can we prove you were not driving?”

  “I don’t know.” Thoughts bounce in my head and I try in vain to calm myself to finish the conversation.

  “And you want to walk away from the deal because of Miss Spencer, am I right?”

  I nod. “You did your homework.”

  “I like to know how much shit I’m going to step in before meeting a new client. Is your father speaking about pressing any charges? Because if so, I need to refer you to a colleague.”

  “No, he just wants to pressure me into paying.” He frowns for a nano-second before nodding.

  “Very well. I’ll contact you if I have any questions. I’m going back to Los Angeles in the morning. In the meanti
me, this is what I could gather on Anna Spencer and her entourage in the little time I had. I would recommend you read it. Let me know if you need any more information.” He stands and exits the room, leaving me irritated about what happened and confused about what will happen next.

  It’s late when I enter Anna’s place. Maybe I should have slept at the hotel tonight because I’m exhausted from having shared the secret I was keeping for ten years, and she’s pacing like a lion in a cage. If it weren’t for her pacing, you wouldn’t know she’s pissed. Maybe the daggers in her eyes could be an indication, but she doesn’t look like a crazy bitch.

  “You know, Dan, I felt like something was wrong when you were receiving those texts, but you seemed so loving and caring, I thought I was crazy to even think you had someone else in your life and you were playing games with me. But then tonight, first you lie saying you need to do something with the boys when I know your boys are in my girls’ beds right now… and then I find this in my mailbox.” She hands me a note that says, “Back off, he’s mine.”

  I want to hurl. People are sick. Why do they want me to be unhappy?

  “So... tell me what I should think?”—Anna continues—“Because you don’t owe me anything, but this, between us, can be done now. Don’t make me the other woman, and don’t cheat on me.”

  This day is never ending. I try to come closer to her, but she steps back.

  “Look, Anna, since I met you, love, there has been only you. My life is a continuous shitshow. I don’t know who sent you that, but the guys and I receive crazy shit all the time. Someone might have seen me come out of your place and checked the names on the mailbox, it’s not like your building is the most secure. We have stalkers, false baby claims, it’s just part of the job. That’s why I want to keep you out of the storm for now.”

  “It’s working,” she says, pointing at the card in my hand. “Fucking brilliantly working, Mr. Darling.”

  “I’m sorry. As for tonight, I was in a meeting, and I don’t want the band to know about it.” I try again to come closer, and this time she lets me. I grab the back of her neck and massage it to dissipate the tension I feel coming from her. “I’m sorry someone sent you that. I’ll speak to John about security for you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t here when it happened. I was with John, my manager. Forgive me?”