by Kailin Gow
“I realize that your thoughts were elsewhere because of the Peyton incident, and believe me, I gave you time to recover, but it's been a year.”
“Dad!” Danny looked absolutely shocked and appalled. “The incident? Really? Is that what you call it – the incident? She's dead, Dad. Dead. A woman is dead – and if you can't bear to refer to her by name...”
Clarence seemed airily oblivious to his son's distress. “And this band you're in,” he snorted. “At least when you were in with Peyton you seemed to take your music somewhat seriously. But this new band seems like a game of musical chairs. You're out, you're in, you're in, you're out. Not exactly the actions of a man dedicated to his craft – or to doing anything much more than appeasing his girlfriend, lovely though she may be.”
I felt anger surging through me. In a few well-chosen words, Clarence had been able not merely to insult Danny, to embarrass us both about Danny's lingering feelings for Peyton, and to dismiss his son's ambitions and loves in a single breath, but he'd also insulted the band. His words were an insult to me, to Luc and Kyle and Steve and even Geoff, to everyone who had worked hard to make the band great, something to be proud of, something more than a vanity project for a couple of over-privileged Beverly Hills teenagers. At that moment I didn't care whether or not Clarence Blue liked me, or whether he approved of me as Danny's girlfriend, whatever that even meant. At that moment all I knew was that nobody, absolutely nobody, could get away with insulting the Never Knights in front of me.
“Mr. Blue,” I began, my voice firm, but clear, “I do appreciate your kindness in inviting me here tonight, but if you for a second believe that the Never Knights is anything but a group of incredibly talented, incredibly hardworking people – Danny among them, I might and – I will have to forcibly refute you on that point. The chief scout of RRR, Richard Slayton, personally chose to sign us – he put his reputation on the line because he believed we had what it takes. And so do I.” I stood. “It was nice meeting you both...”
For a moment, Clarence Blue looked at me agape, taken aback. Then, after one horrible silent moment, he broke out into shocked laughter. “Sit down, miss,” he said. “You've got yourself a firecracker, haven't you, Danny? She's certainly a lively one.” He had realized that his words had gone too far in front of me, and now he was turning on the charm to make up for it. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or appalled at his next word. “Perhaps you're right, Miss Knight, I did sound a tad dismissive. But you must realize the commitment Danny's taken on. About a year ago Danny agreed to do as I asked and take on a leadership role in Blue Enterprises. I'm anxious to retire, to take a break from the business end of things, and like all proud fathers I do want my son as my successor. After the...tragedy, I granted him an indefinite leave of absence. But it was never my intent that this leave of absence become permanent. If he wanted to do his work in North America for a while, finish this degree of his, so be it. But eventually I will need Danny here. To control things alongside me.”
“It's a big honor,” Roni Taylor chimed in nervously. “Clarence would never trust his company with just anyone.”
“But we need Danny with us, too,” I said, taking Danny's hand, daring to look his father in the eye.
“And I intend to be with the Never Knights as long as they need me,” Danny said. He squeezed my hand, and I felt electric warmth seep through me.
“As long as you're able to assume your duties as President,” Clarence looked askance at his soon. “That's the important part...”
“I will do that. But I'm not going to let Neve down, either.” Danny turned my face towards his, kissing me passionately – defiantly, even. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Roni's face go waxy pale.
“No, of course not...” Roni said, her voice smooth as silk. “What a hero our Danny is. Still going about saving his damsels in distress – just like he always did...”
I was going to reply with a statement about how I most decidedly was not in distress, but perhaps fortunately I was interrupted by the appearance of an enormous trolley of rich desserts.
“I didn't order anything...” I looked down at the piles of chocolate cake, confused.
“Dad took the liberty of ordering,” said Danny. “He likes to surprise his guests with dessert first. It's his style – isn't it, Dad?”
“Of course...”
Conversation started to turn to more neutral topics – the weather, London's latest attractions – and for a few seconds I was able to join in the fun, for a few minutes this felt like a dinner at Luc's family home: a raucous, loving family dinner.
Then I looked down at our plates – piled high with strange desserts, Roni's plate entirely empty except for a single cranberry, her face straining as she tried not to cry, Danny's face bright red, and I realized it – this would never be a normal family...
Chapter 9
The rest of the dinner went by quickly. As confused as I was by Danny's strange family dynamics – his eccentric father's strange power over his son, what seemed like Roni's obsession with the boy she could never have, I had to admit that on a personal level I was growing to like Clarence Blue. He could be cold, officious, and controlling – but he could also, I quickly learned, be witty, funny, and charming. He'd gotten his reputation as a successful womanizer for a reason – he was very good at becoming the center of the room, the most important person in any argument. Even I found I couldn't take my eyes off him. While I didn't find him handsome – his relationship to Danny made such an appraisal all too weird – I could certainly see that Danny's charisma was at least partially genetic. And Clarence seemed to have, at least, decided I wasn't too terrible an influence on his son. When we parted he hugged me tightly and kissed me on the cheek.
“Goodbye, Neve,” he said. “I get the feeling I'll be seeing you again.”
“Got to go,” Danny said. “Lots of errands to run. Neve's last night off in London, after all. “Danny's hand on my shoulder made it clear that he wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. He led me swiftly out of the restaurant and into his silver Aston Martin, driving me through the streets of London, along the Thames, before heading north through a warren of streets and into the funky, bohemian district of Camden, where colorful houses were painted with bright murals. He turned a corner and stopped in front of what looked like a luxury apartment block overlooking the Regent's Canal.
We were silent as I followed Danny into the lobby and up the elevator to the penthouse. When at last he had opened the door, revealing a sumptuous Art Deco apartment filled with gorgeous furniture from the 1920's and '30's, my mouth fell open. “This is your place?”
Danny silenced me with a kiss. His mouth was hungry, even desperate as his lips sought mine, as his tongue traced the corners of my mouth; his sweat mingled into mine – we were both so alive, so aflame, with the sheer force of our desire. He pushed me hard against the wall, and I could feel the movement in his groin against my own that meant he wanted me here; he wanted me now. “I've been thinking about doing this to you all evening. All during that ghastly dinner. All the while, under the eyes of those two, I wanted nothing more than to rip off all your clothes and make you scream with ecstasy. I kept picturing what you were wearing under that gorgeously short dress of yours – and wondering if you were wearing anything at all. Let's see...”
I moaned slightly as his fingers slid between my legs, testing his query.
“Yes, by the way,” he whispered as he covered my neck in kisses. “It is my place. Or at least – as much mine as anything I have. I've tried to keep it my escape – the one place I can be independent from my father.” He stopped, sighing. “I bought it when my trust money from my mother came in when I turned eighteen – one of the few things I have that my father never controlled.”
I took in the place. It was the most stunning apartment I'd ever seen – meticulously decorated. Filled with old records, with rock and roll posters, with photographs. Photographs I didn't even have to ask about befo
re I knew what they were – pictures of Danny playing music, a beautiful blonde girl on the microphone. A girl whose eyes made me at once intimidated and ashamed. The gone girl Danny couldn't get out of his head. Peyton.
Perhaps Danny sensed my discomfort, for he came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Shh...Neve, come with me,” he led me away from the photographs and into the bedroom, undressing me tenderly as he pushed me into a sitting position on the bed, crouching before me so that his mouth was on the same level on my hips. He leaned forward, his tongue warm and welcome against me, and soon I was screaming his name, my whole body shuddering and tensing over and over again.
But this time, when at last Danny had clambered into bed alongside me, his warm naked body feeling so good against my own, the pleasure seemed less important. As I felt him move within me, felt our bodies joined together, I felt something else take place. I felt close to Danny – and he close to me. This strange evening, this odd family dynamic – these were things that showed me a whole new side to Danny Blue. A crazy, insane world of privilege and wealth and expectation, the likes of which I could only dream. I thought being Keith Knight's daughter was weird, but in practice our family was just like any other traditional “nuclear” family – a loving, if slightly eccentric, father, a doting mother, the occasional argument, a firm belief in each other, a trust that we were family first and celebrities – if that – second. Not something I'd seen from Danny tonight. I wanted to comfort him, to take away his pain, to give him all that he lacked – to let him know that I had faith in him, that I trusted him, that with me he was Danny, first, and Clarence Blue's son, second. I told him with my body, devoting each muscle in my body to intensifying his pleasure, and when at last we came together, our cries melding into one another, I found that I had tears in my eyes – and he in his.
“I love you, Danny Blue,” I whispered.
He moaned a contented moan, his eyes closed. “I can't get enough of you,” he replied, kissing me. His eyes opened wide, and within them I saw a look of decided mischief. “Close your eyes.”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“You'll see,” Danny said. I followed his directions, and a moment later I felt something cool and moist against my skin. The delicious aroma of chocolate wafted through the air; my skin began to tingle with a pleasurable warmth.
“Chocolate body oil from Le Body Gourmet,” he said. “I had them send over a gift basket.” He lowered his head between my breasts and ran his tongue down to my navel. I shuddered and cried aloud as he worked the oil in with his fingers, his deft touch bringing me to ecstasy once again. “I could lick you all day, Neve Knight.”
“Danny,” I laughed. “I thought we had errands to run.” I smiled and moaned as he answered me with a flick of his tongue.
“We do,” said Danny. “Only...this comes first.”
“What errands are we running, anyway?”
“I wanted to take you to my office,” Danny said, kissing my thighs. “And then back here.”
“Why?”
“I have a gift for you,” he said. “I had it shipped to my office so somebody could sign for it – knowing it'd arrive the same time in London as I did.”
“So your office, huh? I guess you're President, after all.”
Danny's smiled faded slightly. “I owe my father a lot. I'm his only child. And he's right – I did make a commitment to him...” His voice faltered. Did Danny mean what he was saying – or had his father convinced him of it?
“And Roni?” I asked. “You and her...you seem nervous around her.”
“She's my new stepmom,” he said. “It's weird – having her married to my dad. And not my mom.”
“Is that all?” I asked, searching Danny's eyes for the answer.
He sighed. “No, that's not all,” he said. “There's something you should know, Neve – something I should have told you. Something that's an enormous – enormous secret. Soon after Peyton died – too soon – I listened to the advice of some friends who thought the best way to get me out of my depression was to set me up with another pretty blonde, to pressure me into dating before I was ready. They set me up with Veronica Taylor.”
My mouth dropped open. “You dated your stepmom?”
He flushed. “This was long before she met my father...” he said.
“For how long?”
“It was a matter of weeks,” he said. “It was complicated. I was still in a state of severe depression, and when I went back to America that summer to work on my doctorate, we were still together, but only on a very casual basis. Which was all I could give her. Well, two months later, I read the society pages and find out my dad's engaged yet again. To her. He didn't call to tell me himself – I think he wanted to shock me, the way he always does. Always likes to be the hero of the story.”
“Did he know...”
“No,” Danny said. “And she – and I – want to keep it that way. It's better like this. I perhaps once thought I had some...glimmer of feelings for her, but all that vanished when I realized she was more interested in the Blue name than in who I was.”
“But the way she looks at you – she's definitely reliving your past history...”
“Well, that's where it can stay,” said Danny sharply. “In the past. With everything else about us.” He traced his fingers against my cheek. “I'm with you now, Neve,” he said throatily. “That's what matters.” He bent down and kissed me, before starting to lick me again, before our bodies tensed and were ready for passion once more...
Chapter 10
We didn't make it to our errands that night, nor did we manage to head back out to pick up my mysterious present at the offices of Blue Enterprises. Instead we stayed in bed, still ecstatically re-discovering each other's bodies after a long period of absence. I had almost forgotten just how smooth his skin was, just how hard the muscles around his abdomen were. I had almost forgotten the beautiful look in his eyes just as his body tensed in complete and utter pleasure, and the way in which he shuddered when he came. But I learned all this anew, as we spent the whole evening and much of the next morning in bed, exploring one another, re-connecting.
Yet, despite my pleasure, I couldn't help but feel a strange sick sense of worry at the pit of my stomach. Although I held Danny here in my arms, feeling them wrap around his sweet-smelling, firm flesh, I knew that there was a part of him I could never reach. Danny's strange and eccentric family, his odd upbringing, the way his father had convinced him to be part of Blue Enterprises, Veronica's acknowledged feelings for him – there was so much of Danny's life that I couldn't be part of, couldn't really understand. Just like Peyton. Although we were in the bedroom, I could feel her eyes boring into me all the way from the living room; I could feel her presence in this apartment. Had she and Danny had sex here, too? Had she too whispered that she loved him, and this time – had he said it back? My heart sank slightly. Even after all this time, Danny had never told me that he loved me. Was I just kidding myself? I knew Danny desired me, that he wanted to be near me – but love? That was something I wasn't sure I knew if he felt, or could ever feel again. There was so much to Danny Blue I didn't know. Who was I – just an eighteen-year-old girl, in a strange city, among strange people? How could I measure up to the self-assured, poised Joannes and Roni Taylors of the world, let alone Peyton – whose beauty, whose kindness, whose goodness, was legendary? Would Danny ever feel the same way about me as he had done about her, or would I always be an inferior echo?
I sighed and tried to forget about my worries. I was lucky, after all, I tried to tell myself. I had the man I loved naked in my arms, his arms twining around mine. Our first single was selling fast; only last night we had played the O2 arena. But something was missing, something....
The next day, however, I hardly had much time to dwell on my worries about Danny. No sooner had dawn first crept through the window than we headed over to our rehearsal venue to jam together so that we could get Danny up to speed on t
he latest songs. Luckily, our set list was largely the same as it had been in LA – we'd only tweaked a few very minor chords and added a bridge to one of our songs, and to our relief we found that Danny transitioned very naturally back into the Never Knights. His fingers had lost none of their nimbleness during his month-long absence from the band, no sooner had he picked up a guitar than the whole instrument was shaking, music seeming to pour forth entirely naturally from the guitar, beautiful music that spoke to my very core. Tonight we were opening for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in East London, at a new nightclub called The Acropolis that I had heard was one of the most popular – and trendy – venues in the entire city. My whole body tingled with excitement. At last the band would be performing the way it was supposed to be – with Danny Blue on lead guitars, his voice and mine melding together into a single powerful wall of sound.
And that night onstage, we were better than ever. The energy and the passion that had driven our O2 performance was nothing compared to the pure ecstasy I felt onstage that night. All I had to do was look over at Danny to be reminded of the intense pleasure he had made me feel, the way he made me feel so alive, so full of energy, so full of possibility – feelings that I channeled into my song, my voice wavering and bellowing in turn as the song grew first soft, then loud, first sad, then powerful. The audience was lapping it up – they were screaming and shouting and crowding ever-closer to the front row to get the most out of our performance. And Danny's guitar, I noted, was more powerful even than Geoff. While Geoff had plenty of raw, natural talent, Danny brought something else to the strings of his guitar, as his solos echoed off the walls of the room. Quick, expert technique – the result of many years' practice – combined with his natural instinctive sense for rock sound served to create solos that were not just support for the main melody but rather, like classical music sonatas or symphonies, pieces of genuine art in themselves.
