Voices Carry: A Rock and Roll Fantasy (The Rock And Roll Fantasy Collection)

by Diane Rinella

  “Well, boys, I mean it in the sweetest possible way when I remind you of the scene where the customer, lovingly, tells the guys they are elitists who look down on everyone who knows less than they do. After spending the last few days with Brandon and now seeing Shane in action, I can testify that is pretty much everyone.”

  We don’t even try to get defensive. “Yep,” Shane says, “She’s got our number.” His eyes go back to his magazine.

  My head drops. Why do people bust us for being awesome? “The truth of that scene shames every music dork in existence.”

  Katherine rubs my back. It sounds as if she should be patting my head. “At least you admit your shortcomings.”

  God, it is such a relief to be open with someone about who I am. I love how Katherine changes me into a better person without changing who I am. She’s perfect.

  Brandon’s shamed puppy eyes are so cute. The way they turn mischievous makes me want to skip lunch with Bailey in exchange for something a little more appetizing.

  “I know what you are thinking,” he says.

  My belly flutters at the thought. “Don’t tell me you can hear me again,” I whisper.

  “With a look like that, I don’t have to.” His caress of my cheek has me swooning, but his intense gaze has me ready to drag him off to the back room.

  A female voice clears her throat and crashes my thoughts. Bailey waves to us, and I settle for giving Brandon a peck on the cheek. “Gotta go. Have fun with the boys.” As I slip away, his hand runs down my arm, stopping at the wrist with a tug. The adoration in his smile beckons me in for another kiss, and I gladly surrender to the charge it brings me.

  When I accept that I need to break away I grab Bailey who has gotten distracted in the jazz section. Lord, please, it’s going to be hard enough to follow Brandon’s conversations. The last thing I need is the same problem with her.

  We make our way to the door as Shane rings up Brandon. Before he finishes, he tacks on an extra fifteen bucks and slips a plain, brown paper bag into the store-branded one. “Advance copy of the Raspberries CD I pointed out the other day,” he whispers.

  Brandon smiles and he—

  I stop dead in my tracks. Oh my God! Did he just bite his lip? He reminds me of a schoolgirl who has heard the boy she likes wants to make out with her under the bleachers. That is ridiculous. I may be discreet about my love of poser metal but that was damned adorable.

  Bailey grabs my arm and yanks me out the door. “So. Lunch. Z Café? It’s only about a block away.”

  “Yes! Heavenly tasting health food it is. How is it tempeh always taste like cardboard, yet there it’s delicious? Keep me away from the chocolate cake though. Dear God! How do they make it taste so good?”

  Bailey snickers. “What’s wrong? Is Brandon the junk food king?”

  I look down at my gut. “Not in the least, but I think I’ve been wined, dined, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiched into gaining five pounds.”

  “I thought you achieved self-control with those last year.”

  “I did. Then I met Brandon and found getting out of bed to make breakfast is unusually hard.”

  “That good, huh?”

  “More like that connected. Something about us takes intimacy to a whole new level.” On the night we had dinner in my trailer I felt a puzzle had been put together. The more time I spend with him, the more I feel the cracks between the pieces are being filled in. I would gladly tell Bailey, except there is a monkey wrench hidden in there, and I don’t know how to express that.

  Bailey checks out my ass as I walk through the cafe door and head for the counter to place an order. “Yeah, you’ve gotten totally huge,” she says, tossing up her hands. “What the hell are you talking about? Actresses—I swear! At worst you have gained two ounces.”

  Gah! Non-Hollywood types! “Okay, new subject. Any word from Carlouse?”

  “Not a one!” she says with a fist pump. “I’ve no idea if he mooched the rent money, crawled back to his parents, or is on a friend’s sofa. Knowing him, he’s probably already shacked up with another sucker. But here is the real question; have you heard from Jason, and does he know about you and Brandon?”

  In some ways the question doesn’t bother me in the least. In other ways it stings. I hate how I was involved in something so toxic. “Not a word other than an email saying all of his stuff is out, and no, not that I know of. However, it hit the rags I was seen with someone, and they are speculating I left Jason for another man, which totally looks true.”

  After placing our order, we grab the stand with our number and head outside. I’m sure to grab a seat that allows me to people watch. However, Bailey’s eyes are locked on me. “Are you really okay with all of this?”

  My shrug comes without a thought. “Yeah, all except the part that looks like I left Jason for someone else, but the rag sheets are going to say what they want, true or not.”

  “Aren’t you even a little upset Jason is going down without a fight?”

  Why won’t Bailey let up? “I’m relieved he isn’t trying to get me back. Even if it meant being alone forever I think we both see how being together is a rotten idea.”

  Bailey gives me the look girlfriends do when they know you are full of it. “No, you aren’t fine at all.”

  Dammit, I’m an actress; I should be able to pull off a lie. I must really need to face this. “No, something weird is going on, but it has nothing to do with Jason.”

  “From what you told me about how you met Brandon I would think the weird part had long passed.”

  “It’s not him. Actually, it might be, or it could be all my fault.” If I can’t level with Bailey, I can’t level with anyone. She already knows the weird stuff, so this should be nothing. “Some of the things Jason said got to me. He pointed out how driven I am, like way more so than I ever imagined, and it makes me be someone I don’t like. It may also be the cause of something that is freaking me out, though I don’t know for sure.”

  “Which is … ”

  My sigh sounds more like I want to zonk out than I am frazzled. Even this conversation doesn’t get my feathers all that ruffled. “I’m getting so angry lately—as in, I-want-to-rip-someone-a-new-one kind of angry. Usually I can rationalize why I am stressed, but this is a whole new game.”

  Bailey’s head jerks back. “You? Anger issues? When you found out about Jason’s lies, you held it together for days so you could think the situation through. When he proposed, look at the restraint you used in waiting until you got into the limo to chew him out. Above anyone I have ever seen, you know there is a time and a place for anger. ”

  “Not lately. For the last few weeks, I’ve been getting headaches, and then I get angry. It only happens when I am around Brandon. I don’t get it.”

  Bailey is quick to jump to a higher level of concern, and it’s totally sweet. “Did he do something to—”

  I put out my hand to halt her. “No. He’s the gentlest man I’ve ever met.” I clear my throat. The smile that crosses my face is coated in smut. “Sometimes a little too gentle.”

  Bailey’s smirk implies she could use a little gentle right now, yet her concern comes right back. “Does it happen only when you discuss a certain topic, such as, politics?”

  “Nope. It’s random. The other day we were talking about music, and totally out of the blue, I wanted to call him a liar. I’ve replayed the moment in my head a thousand times and couldn’t find a reason in the world.”

  Bailey looks as perplexed as I feel. “That’s not like you at all. Could it be Jason’s lies have gotten to you? Do you have any reason to suspect you can’t trust Brandon?”

  I shake my head. “No, but the Jason part could be right. The first time I met Brandon I thought Jason sent him to sway me to marrying him. But why would that still affect me?”

  “Have you mentioned this to Brandon?”

  “No, because this can’t possibly be his fault.”

  “Sounds as if there is a closure issue. F
or the sake of you and Brandon, you need to find out what it is.”

  Maybe she’s right. I may just need to let Jason have it.

  Our food arrives, and I purposely change the subject. We spend our time chatting about the changes she is making. It’s inspiring, and I can’t wait to see where her new attitude gets her. Something tells me her world is only beginning to open up.

  I Will Always See Your Face

  Cuddling on the sofa with Katherine curled in my arms is true bliss. It makes me want to bear my soul to her, and to pray she will do the same so I can see her spirit in all of its glory. I want to learn her fears so I can alleviate them—to know her dreams so I can do whatever she will allow to help make them come true. The first week of her trip has already flown by. While I cannot wait to see what the rest of her hiatus brings, I cringe every time the clock ticks, knowing she is a second closer to leaving.

  My stomach lightly squeezes and then lets out a rumble. I’m starved. I also, almost, don’t care. I am far too comfortable to think about anything other than the happiness we have found.

  “Hmm … We should eat,” Katherine says, yet she fails to move. “Other than a spoonful of peanut butter this morning, neither of us has had a bite since yesterday.”

  Again my stomach speaks up. This time it sounds more like a roar. I slip an eye open in search of my phone, which is all the way across the room. So much for ordering a pizza.

  My stomach pinches. Even though I can’t hear it, Katherine must because she sits up and says, “That’s it. We’re going shopping. All that is left around here is ice, beer, and cereal. And no, we are not scraping together any more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. My ankles are bigger.”

  I laugh. “What? Your ankles! Geez! Where? Besides, who would notice that?”

  “Everyone. You only notice your ankles chunking up when you start ballooning.”

  I pull her back down on top of me. “You are not ballooning. And you look perfect. However, in the interest of full disclosure I feel the need to state you would look perfect to me even if you gained a hundred pounds, your skin turned purple, and you sprouted warts. All I care about is your heart, and I pray to God it never changes.”

  Katherine pops up, and I get a death glare that nearly sends darts through me. What did I say? I told her she is perfect, and that she would be no matter what happens to her body. I also meant it. That is exactly what I am supposed to do, right?

  I sit, looking like a deer in the headlights, waiting. When she fails to respond I raise my brows and cock my head, silently asking what I did wrong. Either she doesn’t understand the body language or she is deciding the best way to chop off my head so it sits nicely on a platter. Seriously, what did I say?

  She shakes her head as if she is rattling away whatever bothered her. “Sorry, we should get to the store before your stomach gets so twisted it eats itself.”

  What is a guy supposed to do in this situation? If I continue to keep my mouth shut, I can’t say anything wrong. Still, I want to know what I said so I won’t do it again. I touch her arm and stop her from getting up. “Hey, I hope I didn’t offend you. I meant what I said about you being perfect no matter what, okay? I’m also pretty sure you haven’t gained an ounce.”

  She nods, forces a quick smile, and then turns away. Why am I being blown off? Should I let this die, or will that leave it to bite me in the ass later?

  I get up and grab my wallet, keys, and our coats. As I help her with hers, her eyes go in any direction but on me. “Hey,” I say. “How about we grab something fast and take it to the beach or a park or something? We have been cooped up here a lot lately.”

  Needless to say, how she flutters her eyes and then closes them as if shutting me out is not the reaction I expected. “Fine.” She starts for the door, and I reach for her.

  “Please tell me what is wrong. Seriously, I have no idea what I said.”

  She tosses her hands up and rattles them at me. “I know! I know you only spoke genuine words not intended to hurt me. I know that! Okay?”

  I slowly nod while not daring to say a word. I’m lost.

  Katherine shakes her head, looking both exasperated with herself and me. “What you said was perfectly fine, but what I heard was I am fat, just not ballooning.” I start to interject, but she cuts me off. “I know! You did not intend for it to come out that way, but that is how I felt it. When you suggested grabbing something fast to eat, all I envisioned was me chomping on a bunch of fried jalapeños while my chubby cheeks bounced.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disrespect your body in any way.”

  Katherine turns indignant, reminding me of how she was in the cab on the night we met. “My body? Are you implying I have body issues? God!”

  She has me bewildered. Not once in the weeks I have known her has food been a source of discussion other than how we would rather stay in bed and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches than go shopping.

  Katherine grabs her head at the sides and sits on the floor. At first she reminds me of a child throwing a tantrum, but then I see she is actually crumbling under pain. I am quick to kneel next to her. When I raise her chin, I find tears. “I’m sorry,” she says. “So, so sorry. I tried, but I can’t live this way anymore.”

  Dear God, what did I do to hurt this woman I have come to love so dearly? “Honey, what is wrong? Please tell me what I did so I can fix it.”

  She shakes her head with her hands over her ears, making me feel she is beside herself with emotions she can’t understand. “Sometimes I get so angry when I am around you.”

  My lips part in disbelief. How have I hurt her? Memories flood my mind as I review every moment we have shared, yet I come up empty handed as to what I could have done. My thumb wipes away her tears, and she cradles her head into my hand. If I truly make her angry, why is she curling into my touch?

  “I know I am being irrational. Call it chemistry, call it whatever, it exists. I thought I could handle it, but obviously I can’t.”

  My stomach crashes when Katherine heads for the closet and pulls out her suitcase. “Honey, please tell me what I am doing wrong.”

  She shakes her head with tiny motions. “Normally everything is perfect, but every now and then anger builds out of nowhere. I get a horrible headache that feels like someone is smacking me with a warning sign and then tossing me into another one. My subconscious is trying to tell me something, and I need to figure out what before I fall any deeper for you than I have.”

  Katherine heads for the bathroom and grabs her things. I want to beg her to stop, but I force myself to stay calm and try to find the source of the problem so we can fix it. This could not all be over her thinking I implied she put on a few pounds. There has to be more. I try to grab her shoulders as non-threateningly as possible. “Honey, what is it I do that upsets you? Are you afraid I will pull a stunt like Jason did? Is it really me you are mad at?”

  She sets her things down, and my mind stops spiraling. But the moment she looks at me her brow crumbles and the tears return, sending my senses back into misery. “I wish I knew. Time and again I have tried to lay a finger on it, but I can’t. I love you, but sometimes I get a sneaking feeling something is wrong.”

  My ability to breathe disappears. That’s the first time I’ve heard those words from her, yet somehow I have always known they were meant. Our feelings grew like wildfire, and that may be the problem. The force of my hand threw Katherine and me together, not fate. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen now—maybe not ever in this lifetime. Is this the repercussion of messing with the universe? I thought taking fate into your hands was a good thing.

  “Hey, did you hear what you just said? I love you, too. Can we please talk about this?” She nods. We are on our way to sit on the bed when she lets go of my hand and rubs her head with it, starting on her right temple and moving to her forehead. “What’s going on with your head?”

  “It’s been hurting off and on since the day you came to have dinner with
me in Toronto.”

  I can’t help but notice how she phrases it as if I have something to do with the problem. “You mean since the day you fell from that crane,” I remind her. “Can we please take you to a doctor?” I cup her head in my hands. I have so much concern over her health and our future that I could not hold back the falling water from my eyes if I had to. “Please, honey. Let me take care of you, okay?”

  Katherine nods, and we head off to the nearest emergency room.

  The doctor’s assurance that Katherine is perfectly fine brings limited relief. Our drive home is silent as we both search to find what is causing her emotions that rip at our hearts.

  When I pull into the driveway of my apartment complex Katherine stops me from getting out of the car with the touch of her hand. “I need to tell you something.” Her dire look conveys she is about to break me. “So much has happened lately, starting with Jason’s lies, going through the strange things that have happened to us, and now this. I have never, ever had anger issues, and I certainly don’t have a reason to feel anger towards you. I can only guess there is still something I need to settle with Jason. Staying here is not going to fix the problem. I need to do some serious soul searching.”

  My heart crashes, and my body feels such a jolt I nearly reach out of my seat to grab her. I know damn well she is not talking about going to a hotel for a night; she’s going home, to another country, thousands of miles away, to flee from me. I foolishly dare uttering the question I fear getting an answer to. “You are leaving my life, aren’t you?”

  My stomach bottoms out when her eyes go to the floor. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve been a toxic person before, and I can’t let it happen again. Even though things are often so perfect with you, I can’t be around someone who brings out the worst in me. If we don’t so much as talk for a few weeks, and it goes away, then I’ll know.”