by Deana Birch
“Maintenant, c’est toi qui fait chier.”
“What does that mean?” asked Gina.
“He’s annoying,” Louana said, sending a fake glare in my direction.
I eyed Sam. “How did you do last night?”
“It started well and ended very, very badly,” he said with an exaggerated frown.
“Babe?” Sam turned to Gina. “Will you order me some lunch and wake me up when it gets here?” He pulled his baseball cap over his eyes and settled in for a little nap.
“He was at the blackjack table until 5 a.m.,” said Gina. “How come you speak French?” she asked Louana.
“My mom is French and moved to the US to be with my dad.”
“Are they still together?” Gina asked.
“Noooooo. They broke up when I was five.” Louana lay down next to me, and a small table separated her from Gina.
“Why didn’t she go back?”
“She probably stayed for me. I had just started school and made friends. I guess she didn’t want me to lose anything else after my family had broken up. But I spent every summer with my grandmother there since birth. What about you? Where are you from?”
Although I loved learning more about Louana, I’d heard all of Gina’s stories. More than once. I lay down and put my earbuds in to give them their privacy. But after I’d listened to the entire Fleetwood Mac album Rumors, I was ready for a dip. I signaled for Louana to join me and pulled out the buds.
“Gonna run to the bathroom. I’ll meet you in the middle at the bar.”
I jumped in at Sam’s feet, making sure I splashed and annoyed him, and swam to the bar. I ordered two beers and turned around to see where my girl was.
Thing One and Thing Two from the gig the night before had returned, and there she was, chatting away with them, barely dressed. Thing One was tall and well-groomed. Thing Two, on the other hand, was a chubby mess and not a threat.
My arms crossed, my jaw twisted, and I stared. My mom used to say I was strong-willed. I hoped I could strongly will that guy to stop talking to my girlfriend.
I accomplished my mission when Thing Two pointed in my direction and Louana turned around. She rolled her eyes, and her quick head-shake dismissed me. She waved bye-bye to the two idiots and avoided eye contact until she stood directly in front of me, the water hitting her mid-torso.
“What the fuck is it with those guys?”
“First of all, I’d like to tell you how super sexy you are when you’re fuming.” She kissed my cheek.
I softened a little but wasn’t giving in that quickly. That made it twice in the last twenty-four hours she’d kept me waiting as she chatted with them. I wanted to know who they were and why she continued speaking to them.
“And secondly, one of them is a shoulder-tapping actor who I know from yoga. The only reason I know him at all is because he’s in the film we’re doing. Now stop being a jealous jackass.” She uncrossed my arms, moved in closer, and wrapped her wrists around my neck. “And kiss me.”
“What’s with the shoulder-tapping thing?”
“Kiss me and I’ll tell you.”
I obliged.
“It’s my pet peeve. I can’t stand it.”
“And he does it?” My eyes brightened.
“Yes, he does. And it’s annoying.”
“More annoying than a jealous jackass?”
“Oh yeah,” she said.
We kissed again and moved to the bar to get our beers.
“And as a rule, I don’t date actors either,” she added. “So you have nothing to worry about.”
“Any actors?” I doubted her decree.
“I’m not saying they’re all bad people, but I’ve met so many who think I can help them because I work for Mario.”
“What kind of guys do you date? Or should I say, did you date?” I knew one was French, which made him a double douche in my book. How many others had there been?
She lifted her beer to her lips, then stopped and studied me. “You really wanna traipse down memory lane after the blonde from last night?”
“Nope.”
We finished our drinks and talked about what we were going to play in the casino later. We swam for a bit and went back to our spot. The remainder of Sam’s lunch sat on the table next to him, and he snoozed away while Gina thumbed through a magazine. His baking, dark skin was too tempting. I flung my wet, cold body on top of him and he screamed himself awake—my precisely desired response.
Louana lay down on her stomach and undid the back of her top, exposing her entire back. I dried off and sat next to her. After I lathered my hands with sunscreen, I spread it up and down her body. It’s possible I may have slipped under her bottoms. I was very thorough.
I lay down next to her on my side so we were nose to nose.
“Come to Texas next weekend. I can’t wait two weeks to be with you again.”
She opened her eyes to find my own pleading back.
“I’m serious.”
She pressed her lips together.
“What’s there to think about?”
Her eyes closed again.
“I’ll come to San Diego,” she said.
“San Diego is in two weeks. That’s too long. What about Phoenix? You could meet my parents.”
“Slow. Down.”
New tactic. I made a duck face like a spoiled child. “Why don’t you come next weekend and to San Diego?”
“You’re adorable when you beg.” But she still hadn’t agreed.
“Don’t say but,” I warned.
She narrowed in on me.
“Part of me wants nothing more; I hope you know that.”
“Then listen to that part,” I said with a grin.
“And I have another part of me telling me that you and I are moving too fast and to take a minute. And that even though I want to fly around and watch you play, following a man across the country is not who I am. And I won’t lose myself because things around you are nuts.”
I sank down, deflated. I remembered Fern’s words: “Girls like Louana won’t wait around.” How was I going to keep her mine if I couldn’t see her?
“I’ll make it up to you,” she said, springing hope in my belly.
“How?” I wasn’t sure how she could make up for not coming to see me with more not coming to see me.
“BJ before sound check and I’ll come to San Diego.”
“Those things were going to happen anyway. God, I feel bad for the people who have to negotiate with you at work. No wonder Steven’s scared of you. Just a BJ?”
“You don’t want one?”
“I never said that. But you can’t offer me things that were a given anyway. I want more out of this negotiation. I want you to come to Texas.”
“Okay. One BJ before sound check. I’ll go to San Diego. What else can I offer you to make this deal beneficial for you besides Houston?”
I scratched my facial hair and rubbed my eyes. Go big or go home, Riley. “Go on the pill. I want to stop wearing condoms.”
“No.”
Damn, that didn’t take her long to shoot down. Steven was right: she could be scary.
“Why?” I asked, still praying I could find a way to convince her. Sell it. I could sell it. “I get checked all the time and I’m clean. You may not believe this, but I’ve never had sex without a condom. I told you I am not going to fuck around. I don’t want to.” Every word of it was true.
“No. Because I don’t need to.”
“Why not?” Jesus, was she barren or something? Did it even bother me if she was?
“I have an IUD. The idea of putting artificial hormones into my body or having a baby didn’t appeal to me, so I got an IUD.”
A slow smile grew on my delighted face. “So we could… Right now?” The corners of my mouth reached to my eyes.
She pursed her lips and tried to stay in negotiation mode. “BJ, sound check, dinner, gambling, bareback, San Diego. These are my terms.”
“Ah! You’
re killing me!” I threw my head back. I wanted to go upstairs that very minute and experience bareback. With her. Just her.
“Deal then?” She fought her grin, the little vixen.
“You’re maddening. But yes, we definitely have a deal. This is better than Christmas. It might actually be the best day of my life.” I popped up, jumped in the pool, and swam back to the edge below her.
“Next best thing to a cold shower,” I said, shaking the water from my hair.
Sam dove in next to me and we went over to the bar for another beer. When we came back, the angle of the sun was gone and we were ready to head back to our rooms.
“What’s the schedule for tonight?” Gina asked.
“Sound check at six, dinner at eight, gig at ten. Same as yesterday, babe,” Sam answered.
Gina turned to Louana. “What are you guys doing after the show?”
Oh, no, Geens. There would be no more clubbing. I rubbed my hands together and smirked like a greedy thief.
“Besides the obvious.” She rolled her eyes.
“We’re going to gamble,” Louana said, looking at me instead of Gina.
“Cool. See you at sound check.” Gina skipped off, swinging Sam’s arm all the way inside.
“Any chance we can reverse the order of your deal?” I reached for her hand.
“You want me to go to San Diego?”
⸎
In the room, I begged, I pleaded, and I prayed to any god who would listen for her to skip to the final step of the night. Not that I was complaining in any way, shape, or form about step one. But she was adamant. She had her little plan, and I had to admit, the buildup to the main event added to the excitement.
But greed can be a sneaky motivator. Because as much as I enjoyed and delighted in where we were going, I needed more. I needed her in Houston and I wanted her in Phoenix. This woman recharged my batteries. It was like having her on my arm boosted my credibility somehow. Made me walk a little taller. And want to make better choices.
Only Phil, and probably a couple of people at the label, knew how much money I had earned from my song. One fucking song. It seemed utterly ridiculous. Ten years of playing shitholes plus two years of moderate success, and then one song that took me two hours to write. A stupid ode to a night of excess. Excess I didn’t want to repeat. Excess I was thankful only one other person on the planet knew about. Excess I saw almost every day.
And yet if I had found the success earlier, I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate it. Five years ago, I would have bought drinks for everyone in the bar and liquefied my bank account in months. The game had changed. Real money meant a real life. And the more time I spent with Louana, the more I wanted her to be a part of that life.
So while she showered and got dressed for sound check, I plotted. Mission number one: Get her little ass to Texas next weekend.
11
Kryptonite
* * *
LOUANA
Gina and I perched on barstools in the empty club while Jake, Sam, and John warmed up onstage.
“I can’t wait to see the whole show,” I said to her. “I only caught the end last night.”
“They’re really good.”
“Thanks, Geens,” Shane purred from behind us. I swirled around on my stool to see him and the same beautiful woman from the night before by his side.
“You guys snuck off early last night and missed all the fun,” he said.
“I don’t think we officially met. I’m Louana.” I extended my hand to Shane’s friend.
“Celeste.” Her voice was velvet. She introduced herself to Gina as well and sat on the empty stool next to me.
“Duty calls,” said Shane with a smirk. He left us and trotted up the stairs to the stage.
Celeste folded her manicured hands in her thin lap. Something about her made me nervous, which in turn made me feel the need to fill the air with chatter. Gina’s thumbs jabbed into her phone, so I was in it alone.
“Were you guys out late last night?” I said, too chipper.
“We brought the party back to the hotel.” Her gaze stayed on Shane.
“Oh, fun.” Fun? Was I ten?
I was delivered, and so was Celeste, when John played the very distinct hook at the beginning of a song by The James Gang. Jake banged the fill to join, Sam slid into the bass line, and Shane sassed the lyrics. It was an obvious nod to the T-shirt I had worn when Jake and I went out for tacos. Gina put down her phone and we sat there, the three of us, enjoying a private moment with one of the hottest rock bands in the country. It brought a smile to even Celeste’s poker face. And I’m sure it was a coincidence that Shane stood directly in front of Jake and blocked my view of him. And his glancing at me while he sang it was normal. Right?
The scene from the dance floor the night before replayed in my head. After Shane had asked what I’d done to Jake, I tried to lighten the mood. I’d replied, “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
It was a joke. One to which he asked, “Why don’t you show me?” And his green eyes swam in dirty proposition.
But after Jake’s mantrum at the bar and pool, I wasn’t going to tell anyone anything about Shane Murphy. Jake had said this band had enough drama. No way in hell I would to add to it. So I avoided looking back at Shane and enjoyed the song despite him.
With sound check complete, Jake draped his arm around my shoulders and we went back to the room to get ready for dinner and the show. I put on a short, lace, cream-colored dress with long sleeves and a high collar. I pinned up my hair and wore the same gold heels from the night before.
“Do you ever look bad?” Jake said to me as I came out of the bathroom.
“You like?”
“Oh, I like. How long do you plan on gambling tonight? I can’t stop thinking about later.”
“You’re greedy.” I slithered over to the edge of the bed where he was.
“And you’re beautiful.” His hands travelled up my skirt and palmed my ass. “Let’s skip dinner, you wicked temptress.”
“A deal is a deal. You know very well all conditions must be upheld. Besides, I think we both need our energy for the night ahead of us.” I brushed a random lock of his light brown hair back into place.
“Good point.”
He gave me a final squeeze and grunted like a caveman. We left the room and met the others for dinner.
In a private dining room, we clustered around a large table, and I squeezed between Jake and Gina.
“So you’re coming to Texas?” Gina asked.
“I haven’t decided.”
“Definite progress from the no I got earlier,” Jake said. He beamed, then turned to Gina. “Don’t worry, by the end of the night your buddy here will be begging to go to Houston.” He turned back to me with a cool and cocky smile.
“Sounds like a threat,” Shane interjected.
“More of a promise.” Jake held my gaze.
Time to change the subject and shift the attention away from me.
“Will you be going to Texas, Celeste?” I asked.
Shane focused on his plate.
“No. I’m based in Las Vegas.” This woman spoke in velour codes.
Thankfully, the conversation changed again. John described a documentary he had seen during the afternoon on Netflix.
But I couldn’t help myself from watching Shane and Celeste interact. They spoke to each other in hushed tones. Shane would join in the conversation of the group from time to time, but Celeste avoided the rest of us. At one point, Shane caught my voyeurism, and he returned my curiosity with a confident grin. I spun over to Gina and asked her what time her flight was the next day.
Backstage, Jake left me to go change; he couldn’t play in his long sleeve shirt and jeans. Someone brushed against me and I turned to find Shane standing too close.
“Nice legs. Pity we didn’t see them last night.” His emerald eyes narrowed to slits as he very blatantly stared at the bare skin below the hem of my dress.
I swallowed hard. “I run.”
His lips tightened before forming a slow, sinful pout. He gave me one last once-over and walked away.
I turned back around and searched the room. My eyes landed on Celeste, who sat alone on the couch and stared right at me. Her expression wasn’t angry or judgmental, but she did seem to understand what had just happened. I surveyed the landscape again. The band was well into their pre-show warm-ups. Jake had returned and had his headphones on. He hit his drumsticks against an empty guitar case in a distinct rhythm. John fingered random licks on an acoustic guitar as he leaned against a wall. Shane stood in the corner spouting out various voice exercises. Sam’s pre-show ritual seemed to be Gina. They whispered to each other by the table where the alcohol was located.
Not wanting to interfere, I went over to the couch and sat next to Celeste, who was now texting on her phone. I didn’t speak to her and continued to watch the well organized preparations of the band and crew.
After a few minutes, she put her phone away, turned to me, and said, “I have a lot of respect for a woman who can make a man that happy.”
I had expected some form of small talk, not commentary on my relationship with Jake.
“Oh, um, thanks.” The woman baffled me. I tried to think of something else to say back, but my thoughts were a blizzard between my ears.
“Louana, you seem like a nice girl, so I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”
My eyes darted around the room. Everyone was doing his own thing. “Ok?” Here comes the big lecture on dating a rock star.
“Shane would like to fuck you.”
“I beg your pardon?” The words practically coughed themselves out.
“Excuse me. I was a bit blunt, but nonetheless true. Shane is a spoiled little boy who wants what everybody else has.” Celeste didn’t seem jealous; in fact, she was so calm it was as if she was reading me a bedtime story. She continued, “Shane sees you with Jake and thinks if he had the same thing, it would make him as happy. But it never would. You never would.”
“Why are you telling me this? I mean, I’m not even interested in Shane. I’m with Jake.”
