by Julie Archer
“You’ll never guess who turned up on my doorstep!” Poppy took a sip of her dirty martini and winced. God, that was strong.
Lara shook her head. “Nope, I give up. Who?”
“Eva Darcey!”
Both Chrissy and Lara drew in a sharp intake of breath and began talking at the same time.
“You’re kidding!”
“Is she still shagging whatsisname?”
Poppy hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to divulge the whole of Eva’s story. She probably wouldn’t want them to know everything, so Poppy kept it light. “No, she left him ages ago. She’d just split up with a boyfriend and needed somewhere to stay. It’s just like having a babysitter on tap!”
“She still as gorgeous as ever?” asked Chrissy.
Poppy nodded. “Of course, if a little thinner these days. She’s our other lodger. The guy who replaced Billy Walker in Blood Stone Riot also lives with us.”
“What the hell is going on at your place? Sounds like it’s become the McKenna home for waifs and strays!”
Involuntary tears pricked at Poppy’s eyes.
“Or is there something else you need to tell us?” asked Lara.
Poppy started to talk, and once she started, she found she couldn’t stop. Everything that had happened between her and Nate came tumbling out. “Do you think I’m being unfair?” She drained the rest of her cocktail through her straw. It was going straight to her head, but she didn’t care. “He’s already been away for most of this year, and he’s missing out on so much of India’s growing up.”
“Babe, you knew it was his job,” said Chrissy. “And isn’t he raking it in?”
Poppy shook her head. “Not raking it in exactly. In fact, I don’t know if they’re even getting paid for this stupid EP tour thing.”
“That’s because we don’t know how successful this stupid EP tour thing is going to be yet.” A male voice answered from behind Poppy.
She turned and saw Parker Roberts standing by their table, a glass of red wine in his hand. “What are you doing here?”
“The same as you by the looks of things.” He gestured to a man at the bar, who nodded in return and turned back to chatting with the barmaid. “Can I join you?”
“Sure,” said Lara. She smiled at him. “Who are you?”
“Depending on who you are and what magazines you read, I’m either superstar actress Lexi Bloom’s ex or the man who’s about to turn around the fortunes of Blood Stone Riot. Take your pick.” He held out his hand. “Parker Roberts.”
Poppy felt totally left out while Chrissy and Lara turned into giggling schoolgirls, quizzing him about the real reason he and Lexi split up. As if she cared about that. She watched him talking and, as he started talking about work, saw how passionate he became. He was intriguing to observe; gesturing to make his point, reaching out to touch one of them to make sure they felt included in the conversation, asking questions. After a few minutes, their glasses were empty again, and Poppy suggested they go the bar for refills. When Parker pulled out some cash, Chrissy and Lara readily agreed and headed to the bar.
“I know it’s going to be tough for you,” began Parker, before Poppy had a chance to say anything. “I can’t tell you how profitable this tour will be or what happens afterwards. I also know that you and Nate aren’t together right now, at least temporarily.”
Poppy’s mouth fell open. “How did you?”
Parker sipped his wine. “Nate came to see me and told me himself. I think he was worried about the effect it could have on the others. After all, you’ve been the steady ones for so long.”
He was right. Poppy and Nate had been the rocks of the group. With all the drama around Alik, Caro, Edie, and Billy, they had been the ones ignoring it all and looking towards their wedding day. And look how that turned out, she thought bitterly.
“Maybe this break is what the two of you need right now to remind you what you mean to each other. Or,” Parker left the rest of his sentence unspoken.
“Even you think we should split up!” The words were out of Poppy’s mouth before she realised what she was saying. A tear slid down her cheek. Parker reached out and brushed it away with his thumb. His eyes met hers, a deep look that she didn’t know how to react to. She pulled away. “Don’t touch me!”
Chrissy and Lara returned to the table with another round of drinks, totally oblivious to what had just happened. Poppy took several shaky sips of her cocktail. She sat there silently as the other three resumed the conversation they’d been having. She took a sideways glance at Parker, as if seeing him for the first time. He was attractive, in a kind of city way; at odds with his actual profession. Now he was single, she was sure that it wouldn’t be long before he was off the market. Particularly if Chrissy or Lara had anything to do with it. She shook her head. Why was she even thinking about him being single anyway? Parker touched her hand, and she was jolted from her thoughts.
“I have to go, but it’s good to see you Poppy. If you need to chat—about anything—just call me.” He pressed a business card into her hand before briefly kissing her cheek. As he stood up, she caught a whiff of his aftershave, a clean, citrusy scent that suited him, and then he was gone.
“He likes you!” crowed Chrissy.
Poppy stared at her friend. “You’re drunk.”
“She’s right,” said Lara. “Neither of us stand a chance with him.”
“What on earth makes you think that?”
“We were watching you while we were at the bar. Chrissy can just tell these things.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” But even as she said the words, she wasn’t sure. She glanced down at the clean-cut, professionally-branded card, at a loss what to think.
Several hours later, Poppy was still at Jewel. Chrissy and Lara had left; both of them citing early starts. She didn’t want to go home; she didn’t know what she did want. All she did know was that things weren’t the same any more. She twisted the stem of her empty cocktail glass around and debated whether or not to have another drink. Even that was a tough decision.
She glanced over at the bar and was surprised to see Parker there, alone. He turned, saw her, and nodded in her direction before resuming his conversation with the barman. Poppy knocked her phone off the table and bent down to retrieve it. When she sat back up, Parker stood in front of her.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
She looked up. “Doesn’t matter if I do, you’d do what you want in any case.”
“I got you another cocktail.” He placed the drink down and put his glass of brandy next to it. “And I got you some water as well.” He took the bottle from out of his pocket and pushed it towards her, but she didn’t make any move to take it from him. He sat down next to her. “Where are your friends?”
“They’ve gone,” said Poppy. She poured herself some water and drank greedily.
“And left you on their own? Some friends.”
“At least they care about what happens to me.”
Parker sipped his brandy. “Poppy, I know you think I’ve had a hand in the issues you’ve had with Nate,” he said. “Believe me when I say I never set out for any of this to happen. The band is important to me. I wouldn’t have taken over full management after Griffen Price left if I didn’t think I could make them more successful. I know I’m working Nate hard, but never once has he come to me and refused to do something. If he wasn’t happy with what I was suggesting, he could have stood up to me, and he had every opportunity to do so. You need to find out his reasons for making the decision he has.”
Poppy started to cry. Her whole body shook as she sobbed. Parker awkwardly put his arms around her. For a moment she was lost in his comforting embrace, buried against his chest.
She pulled away and stared at him. She could feel her eyes prick with tears again. Parker reached over and tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, his thumb grazing her jawbone. She sighed. Parker’s eyes met hers, and he leaned over and gently kissed her
lips. Poppy shifted her body and moved in to deepen the kiss, her hands resting on his shoulders. His hand went to the back of her neck and pulled her closer to him. Their tongues entwined, and Poppy could barely breathe. It was Poppy who pulled back first and shook her head, completely aghast at what she’d just done.
“Oh, God, I am so sorry!” She started to gather her coat and bag together, desperate to escape. “I should go. I’ve probably missed the last train.”
“Poppy, wait.” Parker put a hand on her arm. “Don’t go. Or if you do have to go, at least let me pay for a cab to get you home safely. I don’t like to think of you out on your own at this time of night.”
She frowned at him. “I can’t let you do that. It would be a ridiculous expense.”
Parker gave her a half smile. “I can put it on the band’s account, if that makes you feel better?”
Poppy half nodded. “I guess that would be okay, thank you.”
It wasn’t long before the taxi arrived. Poppy had spent most of the time in the ladies, preparing herself for the journey home. She didn’t know what had come over her. Had she really just kissed Parker Roberts in a bar? She must have been more drunk than she realised. Eventually, she emerged and the two of them went outside to where the car was waiting.
“Thank you for this,” said Poppy. She wasn’t sure whether she meant the cab home or the kiss.
“No problem. I hope you’re okay?”
Poppy nodded. She reached up and gave him a swift peck on the cheek. “I guess I’ll see you around.” She got into the cab, and as it sped away she turned to see Parker staring after it. What had she just done?
Chapter Eighteen
Eva was beginning to wish she hadn’t agreed to the extra hours at The Indigo Lounge. Nic had asked her if she would be able to come in and supervise the Blood Stone Riot video reshoot. It didn’t require her to do much; just be there to unlock the premises, keep an eye on them setting things up, and tidy up at the end. She’d heard a little about the video from Richey. They were basically shooting the scenes in ‘Bleed Like Cyanide’ that Billy had been in, with Richey in his place. The stage had been dressed identically to the original shoot. A couple of guys with cameras, lighting equipment, and sound booms had wandered around checking angles, and a gorgeous blonde had sauntered in and demanded that everyone take notice of her.
Eva was sitting on the bar, the extra height giving her a good view of everything. Josh O’Brien, the director, had checked in with her when he had first arrived and was currently briefing Richey on what he needed to do.
“Get me some water. Ice, no lemon.”
The pneumatic blonde that stood before her issued her request with no niceties.
“There’s a table of refreshments over there for you and the rest of the crew,” said Eva.
“Yes, but that’s room temperature water. I need it colder than that.”
“And I need to get it for you because?”
“You’re clearly staff, darling. Come on, hurry up, I’ll be needed on set soon.”
Eva glared at her. Who on earth did this woman think she was? It wasn’t as if she were a Victoria’s Secret model who was deigning to lower herself by appearing in a rock band video.
“Gabrielle! Stop bothering Eva and come here,” said Josh.
Gabrielle huffed but obediently went over to where Josh and Richey were standing. Eva shook her head as the blonde walked off. She pulled out her phone. She typed Gabrielle model North Ridge into a search string. Sure enough, there were plenty of images of Gabrielle Holly with various friends—both male and female—pouting and preening for the camera. She was scantily-dressed in most of them, her lips pursed in the typical duck face selfie pose. There were some other, more sensible shots on her Instagram page where she was trying to do some serious modelling, plus lots of tagged pictures of her in clubs and bars, hanging out with Z-list celebrities. Clearly Gabrielle Holly thought she was something.
Eva turned her attention back to the stage, where a makeshift bed had been set up. In the original video, Billy had been cavorting with a number of women, all of whom were tormenting him in one way or another. By the lack of any other females apart from her, she assumed that Gabrielle was going to be the one in the spotlight.
Josh clapped his hands. “Okay, people. We know what we’re doing, so it shouldn’t take too long. Maybe three or four shots to make sure we have every angle covered. Let’s go.”
Richey leaped up onto the stage. He was dressed in jeans and a thin white shirt, his feet bare. Eva watched him—how he moved confidently around the set, just as if he were doing a gig. The music cut in and ‘Bleed Like Cyanide’ started blaring from the stereo system. Without too many people in the bar, it sounded a lot louder than usual, bordering on overpowering.
Gabrielle was dressed in a similar white shirt that strained over her breasts and kept slipping up to reveal a hint of the lacy pants she wore underneath. Eva realised that was intentional and part of the story board, but she didn’t think the way she was touching Richey was. He flinched and stepped away from her when he really should have been getting closer. At one point, he looked out into the bar and connected with Eva, his dark blue eyes boring into hers. The intensity surprised her, and she had to look away. When she looked back, Gabrielle had ripped open Richey’s shirt, revealing his abs and tattoos. It wasn’t anything Eva hadn’t seen before; they’d bumped into each other plenty of times after having a shower, but for some reason her breath caught in her throat. Eva watched as Gabrielle raked her nails down Richey’s chest then pushed him onto the bed. She straddled him, towering over him as she bent down to kiss him. Richey responded, his hands caressing Gabrielle’s buttocks, pulling her close to him.
Eva couldn’t watch any longer. She slid off the bar and went behind it. She started to clean a few glasses that hadn’t yet been put away and tidied up the bottles before checking what stock they needed. Anything to take her mind off what was going on over her shoulder. She was relieved when she heard Josh’s voice call “Cut” and the music stopped. There was a discussion she couldn’t quite make out, and then the music started again. She glanced towards the stage and immediately wished she hadn’t. Richey had lost the shirt and had taken control; Gabrielle was on her back, and he was leaning over her...
It wasn’t as if anything had even happened between her and Richey. They were just living in the same place, a couple of strays that Poppy and Nate had taken pity on and given a home to. Nothing more. But the more she watched what was going on, the more the knot of jealousy in her stomach increased. She tried to ignore it and went back to stocktaking.
A couple of hours later, Josh was satisfied with what they’d done. After all, it was only around a minute’s worth of the video that would get used, and he was sure they had enough to work with during the editing process.
“It shouldn’t take us long to clear up,” said Josh. “Then we’ll be out of here.”
“Great, thanks.” Eva smiled. But the smile soon disappeared as Gabrielle and Richey approached the bar. He had pulled on a t-shirt and had his arm draped around her shoulders. She was dressed in a robe and was laughing at something he’d said.
“Eva, can you get Gabrielle that drink now? She said you wouldn’t give her one earlier.”
Gabrielle beamed, although Eva could tell it was fake.
“Nic said he’d organised refreshments for the crew. They’re over there.” Eva pointed to the table where the cameraman and sound guy were happily helping themselves to the drinks and snacks available.
“I’m not crew, darling,” said Gabrielle. She snuggled against Richey’s chest. “But don’t worry about it now. I think Richey and I are going to go on somewhere. We’ll get something from wherever we end up.”
The surprised look on Richey’s face told Eva everything she needed to know. “Sure, no problem, honey,” said Eva. The last word of the sentence was laden with anything but sweetness. “You enjoy yourself.” She looked straight at Richey as she spok
e.
Eva took a steadying breath as they walked away. She was furious with herself for not realising sooner that she really did want Richey and that she’d wasted a whole heap of time. Now she had ended up pushing him in the direction of someone else.
Eva tortured herself with the thought of Richey and Gabrielle together throughout the whole of her shift. She headed straight back home after work; the thought of wine and leftovers plus trashy TV keeping her going. There was a note from Poppy saying she was over at Daria’s with India and would be back just after eight, but otherwise the house was quiet. As she poked around the fridge, looking for something to eat, she heard a noise from upstairs and turned towards the door. The laughter that got closer was easy to identify: Gabrielle.
The kitchen door burst open and Richey entered, wearing nothing but boxers, closely followed by Gabrielle, clad in leopard-print underwear. Richey ground to a halt, and Gabrielle bumped into his back.
“I didn’t know you were going to be home this early,” said Richey.
Eva’s gaze raked over his body, but she had to turn away. Seeing him like that, with another woman, hurt. She had clearly misread any kind of signals that she thought he was sending her.
“That’s obvious,” she replied. “Sorry to have disturbed you.”
Gabrielle looked between Richey and Eva. “What? You two live together?”
“Sort of, we’re both staying here,” Richey started to explain, but then broke off.
Eva turned back to the fridge and found a bottle of Pinot Grigio that was three quarters full. Suddenly her appetite had disappeared. She took the bottle and a glass.
“I’ll be in the living room; give you two some space,” she said.
She walked out of the room and into the other one, pulling the door shut firmly behind her as if that was enough to pretend that the two of them weren’t there.
Chapter Nineteen
Richey woke early, despite his exertions the previous night that had continued until the early hours of the morning. He turned over, catching a glimpse of the swell of Gabrielle’s breasts as she stirred in her sleep. A pang of guilt gnawed at his stomach. It wasn’t as if anything had gone on between him and Eva, as if they were together, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something could. He hoped that a meaningless shag wasn’t going to jeopardise that, but Eva hadn’t exactly been the most understanding when she’d arrived home the previous evening. He got out of bed quietly and pulled a t-shirt and boxers on, before he headed downstairs.
