If he was dragging his butt about auditioning, Graeme might be right. Still, I didn’t like all the secrets. Also: “What if he gets mad about being duped like that?”
Graeme twisted the cap back on his bottle before replacing it on the table. “The band happens to be in town. He’s filling in for me because I’m ill. What is he being duped about?”
“If he finds out you aren’t sick,” I said.
“Well, there’s only four people in the world who know that. You, me, Billy, and your dad. We all want what’s best for him, so who’s going to tell him?”
He had a point.
I got up out of the chair. “Where you off to, then?” he asked. “I’m enjoying your company. We never get to talk like this.”
“Like what? Me confessing things to you?”
“That, too,” he said with a wry wink.
“Jerk,” I said, no heat in the word. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll be back.”
“Because you can’t resist my charms?” he joked.
“Hardly,” I said. “I’m going to the bus to get fresh clothes because now that I know you’re not contagious or even sick, I’m going to be using your shower.”
“Fine, use me for my shower.”
“Too right,” I said, using his favorite phrase.
I was about to open the door when he stopped me by saying my name.
“One more important question,” he said, his voice soft and full of concern.
I swallowed against my suddenly really dry throat, afraid of his next words because whatever they were, it was obvious it was about something serious. “Yeah?”
“For the love of God, girl, can you please come back with some nachos?”
Fretting (But Not the Guitar Way)
I shouldn’t have been so anxious to see a few of my schoolmates and their boyfriends. But as I flittered around the reception room, arranging this and repositioning that, there was no denying I was filled with nervous energy. But seriously, I was about to be face to face with not one, but two of Will’s exes. And what Graeme had said about it being obvious that we were into each other (I refused to use the word—even to myself—smitten) whirled around in my head and made me feel slightly sick to my stomach.
Had it seriously been that obvious? Sandy knew, but she was my best friend. Did the rest of the guys? Then I suddenly remembered that Billy had figured it out, too. That meant my dad had to know.
Ugh. Who was I kidding? Everyone totally knew. There were no secrets on that bus; I don’t know how I could have been so naïve as to think we wouldn’t be found out. Wishful thinking?
I’d also wanted to confront my father about asking Graeme to fake being sick but couldn’t seem to build up my courage.
Needing grounding and knowing she was my best bet, I looked around for Sandy, but then remembered that after she’d helped me make sure everything was set up for the pre-concert media event, she’d ducked out to go grab a quick shower. She’d texted me when they were on their way back from soundcheck that she was heading to the guest room Kiki had booked for the day. I could hardly blame her since I had taken advantage of Graeme’s luxuriously full-sized shower (though I would have used Kiki’s if I’d known she had gotten one).
As I reached for a carrot off the table and popped it in my mouth, I inevitably thought about Will and wondered if he’d used Graeme’s shower too. Probably not, since I didn’t think he’d risk getting Graeme’s ‘illness’.
I hadn’t seen or spoken with Will since running away from the venue earlier. He’d probably understood why I had done it, but I felt stupid and wished I could have been more chill about the entire situation.
Too late to do anything about it now. No matter how much I wanted to run away from that whole thing with my mother, I couldn’t, and I was going to have to deal with it the next day whether I wanted to or not (not, very much not).
But even though I regretted running away from him, I was still sure that distancing myself from Will was a good idea, no matter what Graeme seemed to think. What did he know, anyway? It’s not like he was some sort of love guru, I thought as I reached for a piece of cheese.
The guys were still out at the bus resting or just chilling before the media event, which left me mostly on my own in the reception room for at least—I looked at my phone—another twenty minutes or so. Plenty of time to fret and work myself into a lather.
I aligned the platters so they followed parallel lines and ninety-degree angles (again). Then I forced myself to turn away from the food table after reaching for a piece of broccoli off the veggie tray and then stopping in a near panic because surely the bits would get caught in my teeth.
Get yourself together, Vanessa, seriously.
Needing something to focus on, I looked around and spotted my father and Billy as they came into the room, nodding at me as they did.
“Grab us a couple of sodas, will you please, Nessa?” Dad said as they sat together on a sofa in the corner.
As I turned toward the drink cart and added a few ice cubes to two glasses, I thought about how tonight would be Billy’s last with the band. Though he was already officially off the clock since Dad had returned. Especially since Linda was back, too. And she was back with a vengeance: I’d walked past her in the hotel’s business center going over upcoming itineraries. When I’d told her I was on my way to the reception room, she’d said she still had a few things to take care of but promised she’d join us in time to head back to the venue.
After I filled the glasses with soda, I turned and watched Dad and Billy, their heads close together as they talked in low tones I couldn’t hear. I assumed Billy was catching Dad up on the band’s three performances since he’d left, though they’d been in touch the whole time, so that couldn’t be all they were talking about.
Maybe they were discussing my mother. If they weren’t talking about her now, they likely already had, especially since she was the reason the two men had broken up their bromance and had been estranged for years. Not that I should have been surprised: she managed to create drama wherever she went.
Not wanting to interrupt them in case they were talking about her, but neither wanting to stand there like a dolt in the middle of the room, holding their sodas, I took a step toward them, when Dad’s phone bonged. He looked at the screen and quickly got up, gesturing at Billy to join him.
“Linda needs us to go over some things for tonight,” he announced.
“I can go,” I said, handing him and Billy their full glasses. “I have the run sheet memorized.” And am desperate for something to do.
Dad shook his head as he took his drink from me before saying, “It’s fine. You stay and meet your friends. You said they’d be here anytime, didn’t you?”
I inhaled deeply as I nodded because Emmie had indeed texted to say they were on their way from the airport.
He paused, his eyebrows coming down low as he frowned. “You okay, Nessa?” He was asking more than if I could handle myself without him for a few minutes, but I didn’t want to get into it with him, so I played dumb and pasted what I hoped was a convincing smile on my face.
I glanced at the clock and nodded. “Yep, I’m fine. Sandy’ll be here in a minute. The guys should be in shortly, too. All good. I’ve got this. You go ahead.”
He regarded me for a long moment before he decided to take me at face value. “Good girl,” he said, putting a palm on my shoulder and giving me a squeeze as he passed by. “Holler if you need me. Otherwise we’ll be back soon. I’ll need to tear Linda away from her laptop first, though.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” I said.
Later, I Found Chocolate on My Cheek
Once Dad and Billy were gone, I inevitably drifted back over to the food and adjusted the stack of cocktail napkins for something like the fiftieth time. As I did, I caught a whiff of the chocolate mini cupcakes and figured what the hell—I worked hard and still had a
lot more of the day left to get through. Sugar was my friend on long days.
Feeling justified, I grabbed one and peeled back the paper before taking one lick of the frosting and then shoving the whole thing in my mouth at once. Since they were small, consuming the entire thing meant no crumbs down my shirt. Smart move. Right?
That’s when I heard voices outside in the hallway.
Of course.
When it was obvious the voices were getting closer, I hurried to chew the cupcake, which now didn’t seem quite so small and had basically turned to glue in my mouth. Nearly choking, because in my panic I’d suddenly forgotten how to eat, I grabbed a bottle of water and chugged half of it, wishing I’d been smart enough to snarf one of the vanilla cupcakes.
Being that my mouth was now coated in chocolate cake and gooey frosting, I ran my tongue along my teeth, swishing another big gulp of water and swallowing it (carefully, because needless to say, choking with a mouth full of water and frosted chocolate bits would have been a disaster).
Then, as the seconds stretched into hours as the group seemed to stop in the hallway, I waited, holding my breath, both excited and terrified.
And waited.
I put the water bottle down as I waited some more, telling myself I was likely getting worked up for nothing. It was probably only the media people from the local radio stations bringing their contest winners. Or, as still no one joined me, I realized it could be people going to another meeting room for a different event.
That thought went out the window when I suddenly heard my name and was given a half a second to recognize the blonde, pixie-haired Emmeline Somerville, right before she tackled me into a crushing hug.
I couldn’t help but laugh as she squeezed me in her arms, surrounding me with her fresh flowery scent. I silently prayed I didn’t spray any chocolate shrapnel into her hair.
“I am SO excited!” she said into the side of my head.
“Emmie,” someone scolded from outside my field of view. “Not everyone loves your over-exuberant hugs.”
“Whoops!” Emmie said as she let me go and stepped back to allow me some space, giving me an opportunity to glance at her hair and note, to my great relief, that there were no cupcake remnants lodged there.
Thank God.
I turned my smile on Brooklyn Prescott who was the one who’d spoken. She stood there, grinning at me as she rolled her eyes at her best friend.
“Sorry!” Emmie said again sheepishly, though she didn’t look sorry. “I’m a hugger! I forget sometimes...”
“It’s fine,” I said with another laugh because her enthusiasm was contagious and she was seriously adorable. But then I remembered both girls in front of me were Will’s exes, and that made the nerves return, my heart pounding hard. Not that they were acting weird, but...
And even though my plan was to distance myself from him, it was seriously awkward being right in front of both of them. I swallowed and cleared my throat because my mouth was suddenly like a desert, chocolate cupcake and water notwithstanding. “Thanks again for everything, Emmie,” I said. “You’ve really saved us tonight.”
I meant it, too. If we hadn’t sold out, it wouldn’t have been a financial disaster, but the guys needed to remain positive so they could stay on their game. We couldn’t shield them from everything, of course, but this one thing felt like a big win, especially as Dad had to run back to New York and hadn’t been able to manage as he would have liked. For allowing him (and me) to not have to worry about the effects of a disgruntled band, I was grateful.
She waved me off. “Are you kidding? I’m so happy to do it. Plus, all those kids get to come to a concert. We get to come to a concert. Everyone wins.”
“Well, those kids are totally winning because of you.” I corrected. But before it got into weird territory, because I was getting dangerously close to gushing over her, I glanced over at Brooklyn and smiled. “It’s good to see you both. Thanks so much for coming.”
Brooklyn smirked and nodded her head toward Emmie. “Like I would unleash her on you unsupervised?”
“Hey!” Emmie said, smiling as she playfully smacked Brooklyn’s arm. “Anyway, we can’t wait to see Dave up on stage again. He’s totally a legit rock star now, just like I always knew he would be.” She narrowed her eyes and screwed up her face before saying, “Even though he kept his family legacy a total secret.” The last was said with a bit of a pout. One I couldn’t blame her, but he’d had his reasons for keeping his grandfather a secret.
It was then that I turned my gaze to Seychelles Spencer who was standing beside Brooklyn, a wry look on her face. “Hey,” she said as she jerked her chin toward me and winked.
She had been in charge of new student orientation for the last couple of years, which meant everyone at our school knew her, but I’d probably only gotten on her radar as the girl who brought Wiretap to Rosewood. She had never been anything but nice, but I still found her intimidating with her big, red, corkscrew curls and bright green tank top that she wore over a pair of stylish capris.
Where Emmie looked classy, and Brooklyn looked comfortable, Seychelles was simply downright sexy. Her confidence was legendary, and she was the girl nearly everyone aspired to be. And the one so many Westwood boys aspired to be with.
Beside her was Jared Abramovich, the former child actor who had been Will’s roommate back at Westwood. If I hadn’t already known he and Seychelles were dating, it would have been immediately obvious, based on the simple fact that they were casually holding hands. They looked so good together, not just because they were both attractive, but they were comfortable together; clearly meant to be a couple.
Jared gave me a polite nod and smile, which I returned.
I suddenly wondered if they had already been dating when she had the epic wardrobe malfunction during his magic show at the schools’ talent show back in January.
“Hey Vanessa,” I heard, breaking into my thoughts and I turned my head to see Coach Fleming who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
I was suddenly reminded of just how ridiculously hot he was. He was like Men’s Health, Equestrian feature, center-spread hot. Even out of his riding jodhpurs and in a pair of regular jeans and a Westwood t-shirt, he was the guy that every girl on the Rosewood campus ogled. It was amazing there weren’t more careless injuries in that riding arena when he was teaching.
Flustered even though I had never considered him anything other than completely off limits, despite his being student-aged, I managed to gurgle out something resembling a ‘hi.’
I guess Brooklyn managed to figure out a way to circumvent the rules that prohibited Rosewood students from dating faculty. Or maybe it was a summer thing, and no one at the school knew. Which would make things interesting come fall term.
Not seeming to notice my momentary lapse in acting like a normal person with mastery of things like words, he gave me a friendly smile (which was more than I was used to—he was always reserved in the Rosewood riding arena). He then glanced over at Brooklyn, and I got a front row seat as the two of them exchanged what could only be described as a scorching look.
Okay, yep, so they are very obviously dating, I thought.
“All checked in,” Coach Fleming told Brooklyn, handing her a key-card holder which she slid into the back pocket of her shorts. I wondered if they were sharing a room, but considering this guy was my equestrian coach, maybe better not to know. Anyway, it’s not like I was about to ask.
“Thanks,” Brooklyn said. Just those few words and the look exchanged between them was enough to make me need to look away.
That’s when my eyes landed on two other men that I didn’t recognize coming into the room. One was a cute brown-haired guy who looked to be in his early twenties.
The other made me nearly swallow my tongue in alarm. My first thought was that he looked like a prison inmate: huge with a shaved head, wearing a tight t-shirt over arms covered i
n tattoos.
My second thought was to holler for security, but that’s when his face broke into a smile as he made a beeline for Emmie and slid an arm around her shoulders.
She looked up into his face, beaming at him. “Hey you,” she said, melting into him. “You got all the luggage sorted?”
This guy? This was the guy Emmie was in love with?
He nodded and then looked at me. “Hi,” he said in a deep but really soft voice. One of those tattooed arms cam out toward me as he kept the other around Emmie. “I’m Danny Kearns.”
“My better half,” Emmie said, still looking up at him and smushing herself into his side even more, making him smile down at her. “In case it wasn’t obvious.”
Oh, it was obvious. And while PDAs normally made me uncomfortable—especially as this room seemed to be full of them happening all around me—this one, in particular, told me there was no chance Emmie wanted Will back. That, along with the obvious connection between Brooklyn and our coach, went a long way toward making me feel a million times better, not to mention pretty stupid about how insecure I’d been.
These girls were not my competition.
Not that there was such a thing as competition for a guy I wasn’t even going to be with anyway, I reminded myself.
But back to the guy right in front of me. The giant, scary guy who was holding his hand out toward me. “Vanessa Capri,” I said to Emmie’s boyfriend, slipping my hand into his.
He gave it a firm but gentle shake as he smiled at me. “Nice to meet you.”
He might look scary, but there was no faulting his manners.
That left the one single guy. I gave Emmie a questioning look.
“Oh, right,” she said, waving him forward. “Vanessa Capri, this is Rob Prescott, Brooklyn’s brother.”
Ah, right. I’d forgotten until that second that Will had said Brooklyn was bringing her brother. Now that I looked at them together, I saw the resemblance.
The Rosewoods Rock & Roll Box Set Page 79
