Starting From Scratch (Starting From Series Book 2)

by Lane Hayes

  I rolled my eyes, then crouched low to pet the puppy wrestling with a chew toy next to Oliver’s chair. Chester was Gray’s birthday gift to Justin. The tiny black French bulldog was just over three months old now. Normally he was a high-energy furball, but Ollie had probably worn him out.

  “Help, Chester. They’re ganging up on me.” I sighed, pulling out the barstool next to Ollie and sneaking a cookie from his plate.

  “Hey!”

  “Hey, yourself. We have to go. Where’s your backpack?”

  “It’s outside by the pool.” Oliver dove for my cookie, pouting when I lifted it out of reach.

  “Did you get your homework done…outside by the pool?” I asked, casting a dubious look between him and Gray.

  “Yep. Except for my science. I don’t know how to do it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you,” Gray said.

  Ollie shook his head. “I needed a break. I’m overworked.”

  Gray chuckled good-naturedly. “You sound just like your brother.”

  “Could be worse, Ol. I’m fabulous. Not necessarily at science, but I’ll try to help you later…after your eye appointment. Are you ready?”

  Oliver slumped in his barstool and slithered to the floor, collapsing in a dramatic heap beside Chester. I waved off Gray’s worried expression with an “I’ve got this” look, which was kind of true. I couldn’t explain the dynamics of my odd little tribe to an outsider without making us sound like a freak show. We were the epitome of a so-called modern family.

  Here’s how it worked. Gray Robertson was our father’s best friend and former lover, and my godfather. Gray practically raised me, though. He was the responsible parent who made sure I went to school on time and had my lunch with me, while Dad was the fun one. He was fond of dessert before dinner and midnight bedtimes. They broke up when I was around Oliver’s age. Not gonna lie, it was devastating to my younger self. That might be part of the reason I made an extra effort with Oliver. I knew uncertainty was scary. I’d been lucky that Gray stuck around. I spent as much time at his house as I did at Dad’s throughout my teenage years.

  I wanted to make sure Ollie felt loved and secure in his ever-changing world. Although the dynamics were different because Ollie’s mom was in the picture. Sort of. I liked Rita, but she was a movie person like Dad. She was always busy with production meetings, filming, and studio nonsense that sounded like white noise to kids. Needless to say, raising Ollie had turned into a team effort. Most days, I thought Dad, Gray, Rita, and I did a damn fine job. Oliver was a cool kid. He was sweet, good-natured, and very smart. He was a bit of a nerd in the best possible way. Ollie loved dinosaurs, Mario Kart, and playing with Chester.

  Over the past year, he’d turned into my shadow. He even looked like me. We both had blond curly hair, blue eyes…and we were short. Our dad was six three, so maybe Ollie would get the growth spurt I was still hoping for at age twenty-five. In the meantime, he was the pipsqueak who struggled to fit in and regularly got picked last on a team. Again, I could totally relate.

  Not now, of course. Conformity was boring as fuck. I’d learned that the best things in life happened when you colored outside of the lines. However, my little brother wasn’t quite sold on the concept that weird was good. And he was pretty sure his new glasses were going to kill his already tenuous social clout.

  “Glasses are cool, Ol,” Gray assured him, setting his readers on his nose.

  I gave Gray a horrified look and shook my head. He responded with an irked frown and motioned for me to take over.

  “Gray’s right,” I replied. “Let’s go pick up your super awesome eyewear…and some ice cream. Ready?”

  “You’re trying to bribe me,” he said, scratching Chester behind his ears.

  “Yes. I am,” I admitted. “If you’re opposed to bribery, we can run errands instead. I need to go the dry cleaner, the market, the—”

  “Nope. It’s okay. You can bribe me.” He kissed the dog and hopped to his feet.

  “Fabulous. Get your stuff.”

  I waited for Oliver to race out of the great room before turning to Gray. “Wish me luck.”

  “You don’t need luck. You’re good with him.”

  “Thanks. I had an amazing role model.” I jingled my keys, then shoved them back into my pocket when the urge to gush became strong.

  Gray smiled. “Who? Your dad?”

  I chuckled. “He has his moments. Did you hear about his new assistant?”

  “Giorgio? Yeah, I met him too. He’s very…uh, what’s the word?”

  “Vacuous?” I suggested.

  Gray snapped his fingers. “That’s it.”

  “He’s hot too.”

  “Your brother isn’t impressed. Between Rita’s new man, your dad’s new fuck buddy, and new glasses…Ollie’s not happy.”

  I let out a defeated sigh. “I know. I hate it. I can’t do anything about Dad or Rita, but I’ll do my best with the glasses.”

  Gray squeezed my shoulder in a fatherly gesture that made me wish I were a kid again, small enough to crawl onto his lap and let him slay all my dragons. He must have noticed my angst. He tilted my chin and gave me a concerned look.

  “You okay, buddy?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just thinking about work stuff.”

  “Zero sounds good,” he gushed. “If they have one weakness, it’s—”

  “Ky.”

  Gray frowned. “I was going to say it was that they underestimate themselves. What’s wrong with Ky?”

  “I don’t think he’s in it for the long haul. Or maybe he just hates me. Who knows? I feel some big blowup happening in the future, and I hope it’s not moments before they’re about to play Wembley.”

  “Ky doesn’t hate you and Zero isn’t playing Wembley.”

  “Yet,” I corrected. “But they will. And that’s the day Ky will decide he’s ditching the band, so I’ll have to jump onstage to save the day. Except I don’t know how to play bass, so I’ll ask someone in the audience to help and ’lo and behold, some sexy, tattooed hunk with a Spanish accent will volunteer. It’ll be love at first sight. He’ll propose in Malta, the wedding will be in—”

  “Hold on.” Gray rubbed his temples and winced. “I know I shouldn’t ask but…why Wembley? And if you’re in London, why is your bassist Spanish?”

  I waved dismissively. “I have no idea. You’re missing the point.”

  “Oh. There was a point?” he asked sarcastically. “What was it?”

  “I have to fix things. If Ky’s going to bail, I need to be prepared. If Declan is a threat, I need to figure out a way to protect Zero.” I quickly filled him in about the negative review and Declan’s possible contract.

  “Slow down, Char. Justin hasn’t said a word about Ky. If he wasn’t happy with him, I’d know about it,” Gray said.

  “True, but—”

  “And the best manager in the world isn’t going to protect a band from bad reviews, bum breaks, or rivals who get noticed before they do. Those are the bumps in the road that make you appreciate success when it comes.”

  “I respectfully disagree, Gray. It’s my job to ease the way for Zero to become the best band in the world. Just like it’s my job to support Oliver, so he doesn’t feel left out in the world. I might not succeed, but I have to try.”

  “You’re not Superman, Char.”

  “Ew, of course not. I’d rather be a Wonder Woman Batman hybrid. All black, badass outfit with high boots, a rope, and a cape.” I pulled my sunglasses from my bag and set them on my nose, diva-style.

  Gray pursed his lips as though trying to hold back a laugh. I studied my other “father” from behind my shades and wished for the millionth time that Dad and he were still together. It was a childish and selfish thing to want. Gray loved Justin. And I had to admit, love agreed with him. He radiated the kind of happiness that made attractive people seem godlike. Gray was a good-looking man anyway. He was built like an athlete with wide shoulders and to
ned biceps, but his copious ink gave him a badass vibe he managed to pull off very well for a forty-four-year-old who regularly wore mismatched board shorts and ancient T-shirts. Kind of like Ky, I mused.

  I frowned at the errant thought and refocused when Gray started talking.

  “You gotta be patient sometimes. Don’t get overly invested in details you can’t control. It’s not your job to fix everyone. Just concentrate on you.”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s my biggest flaw! I over-concentrate on me. I jumped into this band stuff so I’d stop fixating on stupid social media nonsense twenty-four seven. The morning I woke up early to dress my cat in a pumpkin spice latte costume so I could claim original rights to the idea was the day I knew I had to make some changes. I obsessed over that outfit for Caprice, and she hates cat clothes.”

  “The operative word is ‘obsess.’ Stop it. Let things flow naturally. And as for Oliver…” Gray paused at my brother’s high-pitched laughter and the sound of approaching footsteps. “You’re already doing the right thing. Just be there for him.”

  I nodded, then darted my gaze toward the entry before lowering my voice. “Do you think I’m a good influence, though? Hanging out with me isn’t going to boost his cool quotient. I’m not putting myself down, I’m being realistic. I need to find him a sporty friend.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re more than enough, Char. He adores you.”

  “He’s nine. He doesn’t know any better. Poor kid.” I shook my head ruefully. “Well, I’m off. Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck, buddy.”

  I flung an imaginary cape over my shoulder and sashayed into the foyer to wrangle my kid brother and continue my quest to overcompensate and underdeliver. Why? Because no one in my family could ever do anything the easy way.

  “You look dashing.”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” Oliver grumbled unhappily from the back seat of my BMW.

  I studied him in the rearview mirror at a traffic light and dammit, my heart cracked at the seams when he lifted the lenses to swipe a tear from his eye before staring out the window again.

  “It means you look handsome. And very smart.”

  “No, I don’t. I look like a turtle with speckles,” he griped.

  I twisted sideways to look at Oliver just as the asshole behind me honked his horn. I stifled the urge to flip the other driver off before continuing east on Santa Monica Boulevard. A case of road rage wouldn’t help lift the somber mood in my car.

  “Speckles or spectacles?” I asked gently.

  “No offense, Charlie, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can I take them off till I get home?”

  “Sorry, Ol. You heard what the optometrist said.”

  “Yeah, he said I have to look like a dork for the rest of my life.”

  Okay, this wasn’t going well. I pursed my lips and tried to think of a positive spin that wouldn’t sound like bullshit to a nine-year-old. When I came up empty, I cranked Lady Gaga and sang along to “Shallow,” purposely missing the high notes to make him laugh.

  He didn’t laugh. If ice cream didn’t work, I had to think of something else to cheer him up. I couldn’t drop him off at his mom’s, knowing there was a high chance he’d hole up in his room until he had to face his classmates at school tomorrow. Been there, done that. Not fun.

  I found a parking space on Robertson and fed the meter while Oliver painstakingly clicked his seat belt off, then opened the car door. I kept my eye on him, glancing away briefly to check out the sidewalk traffic. This section of West Hollywood usually offered some interesting people-watching. I smiled at the gorgeous drag queen with long platinum hair and a neon-pink slinky dress passing by on Rollerblades. I lifted my hand to give a friendly wave but froze a moment later when I spotted a familiar figure on the corner.

  What the hell was Ky doing here? And who was he talking to?

  I adjusted my sunglasses and squinted at the pretty blonde. I didn’t recognize her. It wasn’t the girlfriend I’d met at Gray and Justin’s barbeque at the beginning of the month. I think her name was Lauren. They’d seemed more like buddies than a real couple, though. Maybe they’d broken up and he was seeing someone new. Although he didn’t look particularly amorous, I noted when Ky shook his head angrily and crossed his arms.

  “Do you think they still have bubblegum ice cream?” Oliver asked.

  “Uh…maybe,” I replied distractedly.

  “Can I have a double scoop?”

  “Yeah…um, sure.”

  Oliver started down the street ahead of me but stopped abruptly and frowned when I didn’t follow right away. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, but maybe we should…slow down. You know…to build up our appetite. I’m not hungry yet and I bet you aren’t either. Let’s pop into that cute pet boutique across the street. We can find a new toy for Chester or—”

  “I’m having a trauma day, Charlie. I don’t think delaying ice cream is a great idea for my health,” Oliver said, narrowing his eyes and setting his hands on his hips, so he really did look like a small version of me.

  I forgot about Ky for a moment and busted up laughing. “Trauma?”

  “That’s what you always say,” he insisted pushing his blue-framed glasses toward the bridge of his nose.

  “I hardly think this is a traumatic moment, but fine…we’ll go to Scoops. Let’s just cut to the other side of the street.”

  I put my hand on Oliver’s shoulder to steer him in the opposite direction. He wiggled out of my grasp with an irritated huff, then did a quick double take and pointed at the couple standing on the corner.

  “Hey, that’s Ky.” Oliver’s cloudy expression brightened. He waved his arms above his head and grinned when Ky called his name and motioned him over. “Come on, Char!”

  Fuck.

  I was trapped. Unless inspiration struck fast, I saw no way to avoid faking polite conversation with the guy I’d put on my short list of people to erase from my life…and his new gal pal. I pasted a smile on my face and trudged forward, swallowing back an awkward emotion that felt vaguely like envy. What could I possibly be jealous of? Ky’s ability to rebound from one attractive partner to another? Unlikely.

  “Hello,” I said cheerily. “Funny running into you again.”

  “Yeah, real funny.” Ky chuckled, tucking a skateboard I hadn’t noticed until now under his arm before draping his free arm over the young woman’s shoulders. “Hey, Char, this is Karly.”

  And there it was again. A sharp sting of ugliness I didn’t understand.

  I extended my hand politely without really looking at the pretty blonde, then hooked my thumb toward the ice cream parlor. “Nice to meet you. We were just heading to Scoops, so we’ll let—”

  “Whoa. Hang on a sec.” He inclined his head toward me and smiled. “This is the guy I was telling you about. Charlie is Zero’s manager-slash-social-media-expert.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Karly said warmly.

  “Don’t believe a word,” I quipped.

  She snickered. “Since my brother tends to be painfully honest, I’m going to assume you really are amazing.”

  Oh…okay.

  I studied the siblings closely. Ky was taller than his sister, but they shared the same coloring and general California beach look with sun-kissed golden skin, green eyes, and blonde hair. Karly’s hair was lighter and much longer, but it was easy to see the family resemblance. Heck, they even dressed kind of alike. Karly’s cute pink skirt with palm trees and flip-flops complemented Ky’s board shorts and Vans aesthetic.

  “Amazing?” I repeated, raising a brow.

  “Yeah, that probably wasn’t the word I used,” Ky corrected with a playful wink before turning his attention to Oliver. “Something’s different about you, dude. Did you get a new shirt?”

  “No.”

  “Did you cut your hair?”

  “No. You really can’t tell?” Ollie asked, widening his eyes hopefully.

&n
bsp; “I can’t put my finger on it.” Ky flipped his sunglasses to rest atop his head and set his skateboard on the pavement as he bent to give Oliver an up-close once-over. “New shoes?”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you gonna tell me?”

  “You have to guess,” Ollie insisted. “It might take you a while, though. Wanna have ice cream with us? They have really good mint chip here. Charlie doesn’t mind. He likes you. He talks about you all the time.”

  “He does?” Ky asked with a half laugh.

  “I do not,” I huffed incredulously.

  Oliver ignored my pointed look and turned to Karly. “You can come too.”

  “Thank you for the invite, but I should get going,” she replied.

  “Yeah, I gotta run too.” Ky kicked his skateboard to vertical and hiked it under his arm before offering Oliver a fist bump.

  “Okay.” Oliver’s bottom lip trembled slightly, but he nodded as he raised his fist to Ky’s and even attempted a wobbly smile.

  The silent exchange was so quick, it would have been easy to ignore. But I was extra sensitive to all things Oliver-related, so I did what I always seemed to do when confronted with minor disappointments. I overcompensated and oversold.

  “Nice to meet you, Karly. See ya, Ky. We have an ice cream party to get started. Let’s change that double to a triple scoop. Ready, Ol? We should—”

  “Wait up,” Ky intercepted. “I’m in.”

  “Really?” Oliver scrunched his nose and pushed at the lens on his glasses.

  “Yeah. Triple scoop ice cream is hard to resist,” he replied.

  Oliver punched the air and whooped triumphantly. “Yes!”

  Ky chuckled at the exuberant welcome, then hugged his sister. He gave her a lopsided smile before continuing in a low tone I wouldn’t have heard if I hadn’t stepped toward them to let a yoga mom pushing a double-wide stroller pass. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be okay.”

  He caught my stare and held it for a moment while Karly said good-bye to Oliver. When she walked away, Ky set his skateboard back on the ground and told Ollie to hop on. My usually reticent little brother obeyed. He soaked in Ky’s tutorial about balance before letting Ky pull him by the hand across the rainbow-painted crosswalk toward Scoops.