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by Deana Birch


  “Five?” he questioned, and his finger loitered over the button. Both of us were shit at remembering which floor we were on. Too many numbers in too little time.

  “I honestly don’t know.” I patted myself down for the key.

  Shane set down his bags and did the same thing. He found his first and looked at the paper sleeve.

  “Five it is.” He hit the button and it lit up.

  “What the fuck was up with that woman in Vegas?” Now that we were alone, I could ask.

  “Celeste?”

  I nodded my slow yes.

  “She’s like a sex therapist and dominatrix in one.”

  “Can you be both?”

  “Apparently, yes. But she doesn’t have sex with her patients.” He coughed once and shrugged.

  The doors opened as I found my own key.

  “You learn anything new?”

  “Nah.” Shane gathered his things and we stepped off. “I’m thinking about going back to men. But Phil told me to keep banging chicks until we’re done with the tour of the South.”

  “Fuck Phil. You should do whatever you want.” I checked the numbers on the wall to figure out which way to go.

  “What about you?” His chin popped up.

  “I am team Louana Higgins for as long as she’ll put up with me.” I walked in the direction of my room. “’Night.” I didn’t look back.

  ⸎

  The next morning, we all had breakfast in John and Shane’s room and mixed magic mushrooms with our scrambled eggs. A van drove us out to the desert, and we hopped into white jeeps for a canyon tour of cacti. Prickly phallic symbols take on a whole new level of hilarity when hallucinogens are involved. Mix in four guys who are not ready to grow up, and Phil earned his money as our babysitter that day.

  I sent a simple text to Louana around midnight telling her I missed her. But when I woke up, I was ready to know where she stood on my proposition.

  Hoping to catch her on her way to work, I called from a radio station lobby, where we were waiting to be interviewed for its morning show.

  “Louana Higgins.” The way she answered made me smile.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey…”

  Uh-oh. Maybe she wasn’t ready to talk. Shit. Maybe she already had her answer and was about to turn me down.

  “Jake…”

  “Louana.” I stopped her. “I know it’s a lot to process. I know it’s quick.”

  “I need time. And maybe a bit of space.” Her voice was quiet.

  “No.” Nopers. No way. Time was not on my side. Time would allow this to fester, to be overthought. Time would kill my chances. Time was an asshat. And space? Seriously?

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m barely going to see you for the next two weeks! That’s a whole lot of time, and I don’t know how much more space I could possibly stand between us. You don’t get to push me away because you’re nervous.” I softened and took a breath. “If you’re freaking out, I need to know. Because you’re not alone here. I’m just as much in unchartered territory as you are.”

  “Okay.” She cleared her throat. “I’m freaking out. I feel like you’re going to flatten me like a tornado would flatten a wooden house.”

  “Well, that’s a start.” Not the one I was hoping for, but not a no.

  “And you’re right. Part of me wants to push you away. It’s too much. It’s all too much.”

  “Louana, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “You don’t know that. I feel like you are bulldozing your way into my life.”

  “Which is it? Am I a bulldozer or a tornado?”

  Her analogies sucked.

  “Both.”

  Really sucked.

  “I’m telling you, I will not hurt you. It is the last thing I want to do. I know I brought you into this craziness. You didn’t know what you were in for. But here we are, and you can’t deny what’s happening between us. I told you, I just want us both to be happy, and I know we’re happiest together.”

  “Why do you always have to say such sweet shit when I’m trying to be mad? It’s annoying.”

  This was good. This was a step toward success.

  A middle-aged, balding man came into the lobby. “We’re ready to get you guys set up.”

  “Fuck, they’re calling us in,” I said to Louana. I shifted the phone and glared at Phil.

  “I thought we had twenty minutes.”

  He shrugged, then motioned for me to get up.

  Back to Louana, I said, “I gotta go. Tell me you are going to stop thinking about reasons why it won’t work if we live together, and you will start to think of reasons why it can. I’ll call you later.”

  “Uhhhh, you’re impossible.”

  “I miss you too. Bye, baby.” I hung up and slid the phone into my back pocket as I stood up.

  As we were walking down the hall, Shane leaned in and whispered, “You’re gonna move in with that chick?”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Bit sudden.”

  “You of all people should understand the need to be grounded outside the circus.”

  “Not really. I like the circus.”

  I held the studio door open for him and followed him in. We sat down, put our headphones on, and answered the same questions we’d been asked for months. The difference was, this time when the DJ asked about my sex life, I didn’t want to share. It was sacred ground. Shane must have sensed my hesitation, because he swooped in and deflected the answer by bringing it back to a story about himself.

  Later, when I brought it up at the hotel gym, he brushed it off and insulted me for being boring.

  13

  Too Fast

  * * *

  LOUANA

  As an only child, being alone never bothered me. When Jake stayed with me before, I knew it was temporary. If he moved in after San Diego, would I lose myself? He said he didn’t want to change me, but hadn’t he already? And bubbling under the surface was me not wanting to get lost in another relationship. I wasn’t even sure if Dimitri fully understood that we were over. There was no way I would bring it up with Jake, but the lines between friends and exes were more than blurred.

  Some of my happiest memories included Dimitri. As the son of my grandmother’s best friend, I saw him every time I went to France. When I’d lived with her in Marseille for a year, and Dimitri had begun his soccer career, we’d fallen in love. It had crushed my soul when I had to come back for college. More so when I realized he’d moved on. But I had been too young, and his hold had been too tight. Not that it stopped us from hooking up on holidays. We put the kindle in rekindle. I’d once believed we were meant to be, but time, space, and his adoring female fans had other plans.

  Even though Jake and I were moving quickly, I couldn’t imagine any other way for us to be. The craving to keep Jake close could not be denied. And I was older, wiser. Right?

  ⸎

  At work on Wednesday, Bob stayed on the Westside to have lunch with a producer in Santa Monica. The intern had the day off, and Mario was sequestered in his studio, taking advantage of the calmness.

  I passed Steven Brass in the hallway after lunch.

  “Hey, I heard you guys had fun in Vegas,” he said.

  “Did you?” I raised an eyebrow. Jake’s confession of Steven being afraid of little me made me grin more than usual. But what had Jake told him about our weekend?

  “Yeah. Jake is such a lucky fucker. Two grand in thirty minutes.”

  “Oh.” I relaxed and shifted my body weight to one side. “Right.”

  “Hey, I was going to ask Jake, but since you’re here, do you think I could bring you some of Jake’s stuff?”

  “Why, does he need something for Houston?” I scratched under the elastic from my low ponytail, the unusual mix of work and play uncomfortable.

  “No. It’s just my girlfriend was so happy he wasn’t coming back to our place, she’s become obsessed with getting rid of his things. And since he’s moving in wi
th you—that’s so cool, by the way—I thought I could get a head start on the process.”

  Bells, whistles, sirens, and gongs blared in my head, but I faked my calmness. Except my eyes—they fluttered like hummingbird wings. “Huh? When did he tell you he was moving in?”

  “Sunday after dinner, I guess. He called me to get some studio recommendations, since they are coming off the road. I had to tell him Sue-Lynn had drawn a line in the sand and that he had to leave. He said it wasn’t a problem; he was going to stay with you anyway. So can I bring you his stuff?”

  Poker face, I told myself. Pretend you’re Celeste. “Let me check with Jake. There might be some things he doesn’t want me to see.”

  “Okay, well, let me know. It would be a big help. She’s totally on the rampage.”

  “Sure.”

  I went into my office and resisted slamming the door when I shut it. Jake hadn’t even asked me before he had spoken to Steven, and yet he was so sure I would say yes. I pulled my phone out of my bag, my anger trumping my personal call work etiquette.

  Jake picked it up on the second ring.

  “Hey, this is a surprise. Everything okay?”

  He and his chipper voice could go fuck themselves.

  “I’m calling to inform you that you have grossly compromised your current negotiations.”

  “What? Why? I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I have been a very good and boring boy.”

  “I’m not doubting your faithfulness, Jake. I’m referring to the conversation I just had with your friend Steven Brass.”

  “Fuuuck,” he whispered.

  “Oh, yeah. Fuck. He was either kind enough or stupid enough to inform me of your own conversation—which occurred well before our own—when you told him you would be moving in with me. Before you had even asked me, Jake!”

  “Baby…”

  “Oh, no no no non.” My last word switched to French, proving how pissed I was. “Don’t ‘baby’ me. You cannot bulldoze your way through my life. You don’t get to decide for me, Jake. And that is why—I sucked air through my expanded nostrils—all arrangements are off the table.”

  “What? No! You can’t be fucking serious!”

  He was as mad as I was now. Good.

  “I am.”

  “No! Let me explain—”

  “Goodbye, Jake.”

  “Louana!”

  I took the phone away from my ear and heard Jake shout “Fuck!” from the other end before I hung up and lobbed it into my chair like a hot potato.

  I opened Bob’s bottom drawer, where I found cigarettes and a lighter. My cell phone rang from across the room, but I didn’t care. I smoothed my skirt and strode out of my office. The receptionist was about to answer a call and I said, “All calls to voicemail, please. If Mario asks, I’m down on three.”

  “Mario Mendina Music,” she answered our line. “I’m sorry; she’s currently unavailable. Would you like her voicemail?”

  There wasn’t a doubt in my mind who was on the other end of that call.

  ⸎

  “You’re being an ass.”

  “What? Whose side are you on?” I crossed my arms. Casey sat across from me at our favorite Chinese place on Third.

  Before he could answer, my phone rang in my bag and I pulled it out.

  “Is it him?”

  “No. It’s Gina, Sam’s girlfriend.”

  “Answer it,” Casey commanded.

  “Hey, Gina.”

  “Hey, girl, what’s going on? Sam said you broke up with Jake?”

  “Well, he’s an ass.” I stuck my tongue out to Casey.

  “Why?” Gina asked.

  “He thinks he can sweep in and take over my life.”

  “Hmmm. I don’t know the details, and I am not taking anybody’s side. I just want to say it doesn’t sound like Jake. If he did something to hurt you, I guarantee it was not on purpose. People make mistakes, Louana. He didn’t smack you in the face, cheat on you, or steal all your money. My sister’s ex did all three. Those guys are out there on the bus, helpless. You should at least talk to him.”

  I hated her being right.

  “What is she saying?” asked Casey.

  “Who’s that?” Gina asked.

  “It’s my friend Casey. He was just telling me what an ass I am.”

  She laughed. “Hi, Casey!” Gina’s bubbly self was never far away.

  “Gina says hi.”

  “Hi Gina!” Casey’s eyes were big and bright. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking he was one step closer to Shane Murphy.

  “I should go,” I said.

  “So are you still coming to Houston?”

  “Not sure.”

  “Please. I hate flying alone. Text me what you decide.”

  ⸎

  Casey and I said goodbye and I got in my car. It was nine o’clock in L.A. and eleven o’clock in Texas. Maybe I was being an ass. Lord knew I was stubborn. And Gina was right—Jake was stranded without a move. At the very least, I could hear him out. If I wanted to be in a different relationship, my old bad habits would need to be left behind.

  I hit call and hoped I wouldn’t regret it.

  “Hey. Thank God. Can I explain now please?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re right. I did things out of order. But I meant everything I said. I want to be with you. Fuck, I need to be with you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this. I fucked up.”

  The sincerity in his voice pulled at the place in my heart he had taken over.

  “Yes, you did fuck up,” I said.

  “I never assumed you would say yes. I really didn’t. I just got excited and told Steven I was moving in as a reassurance for his girlfriend. How can I make this better?”

  “Don’t bulldoze me.” I stared at the steering wheel.

  “It’s not intentional, I promise.”

  “In honesty, I think I may have been looking for any reason to be mad at you.” A hard truth.

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, and it’s like a defense mechanism. I’m scared, Jake. We’re moving too fast. I feel like the bottom could drop out any minute.”

  “I know. I’m scared too.”

  “You are?”

  He didn’t act afraid of anything.

  “Fuck yeah. I’m scared you’ll figure out that I’m just an average guy who can beat drums and find something better. I’m scared you’re too good for me.”

  I knew those reservations. Too well. A tear escaped and fell down my cheek. I wasn’t ready to give up on Jake. I had no idea how to make it work, but once my anger faded, the pull to him was too strong.

  “Please come to Houston so we can work this out.”

  “Deal.”

  “What about our other deals?” he wondered.

  “We’ll see.”

  “You have to stop inventing the why nots and start thinking more about the hows.” His confidence returned, and the sway brought back some normalcy to our conversation.

  “I did think about it last night, and you’re right: I have the time and the space to think it through, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Good. I’m sorry, but I should go. These guys have heard enough about us today.”

  “Shit. How much?”

  “Well, when I screamed fuck and banged my hand against the bottom of Sam’s bunk, I pretty much got everyone’s attention.”

  “They all know?”

  “No. John said I was a boring pussy and went back to sleep. Sam didn’t know; that’s why he called Gina. And Shane said you were a fucking idiot if you left me.”

  “I didn’t break up with you.”

  “It sounded like you did.”

  “I didn’t mean for the drama to bleed onto the bus. I know you wanted to keep us private.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll make it up to me.”

  “I’ll see you Saturday.”

  “Bye, baby.”

  I got
home and took Archie for his walk. I thought about how I would be neglecting him over the next couple of weeks. It wasn’t right to keep asking Richie or the girls in 3B to constantly cover for me. I needed a permanent solution to pick up my slack.

  I knocked on Fern’s door and was glad to see she was still up, watching the news.

  I leaned in and said, “I was thinking about getting Archie a replacement dog walker. I’ve got some travel for work and am gonna be gone the next two weekends to see Jake.”

  “Okay. You’re right. We should probably stop asking everyone around here, and I can’t manage all three walks a day.”

  “Do you still have the number of the lady you adopted him from? She might have some ideas.”

  “Let me see. Her name is Christine.” Fern got up, walked to her wooden dining table, and took her address book from her purse. She found the number and wrote it down on a piece of paper, which she handed to me.

  “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  14

  Green with It

  * * *

  JAKE

  Dallas was a fucking disaster. Shane had been toning down his romps and sticking to women, but his reputation preceded us. A religious group picketed outside the venue and one of our fans “engaged” and screamed back. Punches were thrown, police came to the scene, and we went onstage over an hour later than planned. We played a fast set and skipped the encore. Everyone was sour. Phil closed off backstage and made us wait until the venue totally cleared out before we packed the bus and left.

  We drove to Houston in the morning, went straight to the amphitheater, unloaded, and had an early sound check. Sam and I were antsy to get to the hotel. We knew our girls had landed and were waiting by the pool. Plus, I had makeup sex on the brain.

  The bright Texan sun shined into my eyes, and even with my sunglasses on, I had to shade my view as I searched for her little bronze body. It only took a minute to spot her. She lay on her stomach, top off, and her eyes were closed. She and Gina were poolside, and Gina was flipping through a magazine. I nudged Sam with my elbow and we walked over to meet them.

 

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