The Sirens of SaSS Anthology

by Anthology

  After listening to several more bands, taking notes on a couple of them, he needed a break. Heading to the restrooms, he thought he spotted Breck. He advanced in that direction, but it wasn't his friend after all.

  Turning back around, he caught a glimpse of the red hair again. Despite his full bladder, he pushed through the crowd toward her. There was something about that hair; he had to see who it belonged to.

  “Excuse me?”

  Devon turned and faced three smiling young girls.

  “Are you Devon Mann?” One of them was twining her hands in front of her and bouncing on the balls of her feet as she beamed up at him.

  He looked at the girls and back to his quarry, and then back to the girls again. He sighed, raked his hand through his hair, and gave them his performance smile. “Yes, that would be me.” He loved his fans, especially the younger ones. If it weren't for them, there would be no Sinful Souls. Their squeals alerted others who became curious and before he knew it, he was taking a lot of selfies with fans and signing autographs, boobs, and whatever else they shoved his way.

  After what felt like an eternity, he finally excused himself for the restroom. He took his time and splashed water on his face.

  Despite his drinking history, he wasn't crazy about the taste of alcohol, and yet wished he had a beer or two. He shook his head and slowly retreated from the building. No one was waiting for him, so he tucked his ball cap low over his forehead and went back to his original spot.

  A few hours later, the sun was setting, the smell of marijuana filled the air, things were getting rowdy with the all-day drinkers, and the nighttime crowd was rolling in. He hadn't seen the redhead again, and this disappointed him more than it should've. He’d had enough, so he left.

  As Devon walked out of the main entrance of the park heading for his car, he took in the scene around him, and then he saw her.

  The redhead, under a streetlight, was slipping into the backseat of a taxi.

  He caught a glimpse of her profile. In those few seconds, his feet stopped moving and his breath stuttered. She was stunning…and leaving. The cab disappeared down the street and was around the corner and out of sight before he could process his reaction.

  Once back home, he sent a text message to Breck, “I have notes on a couple of the bands from today, hit me up if you want to talk.”

  Instantly, there were dots dancing across his phone indicating Breck was messaging him back.

  “On my way.”

  Chapter Four

  Aria lay on the couch trying to watch TV. Nothing appealed to her, so she was staring at the ceiling when a knock sounded.

  She groaned and got to her feet. Today was her lazy, do-nothing-day. Getting up off the couch was even more than she had planned.

  Looking through the peephole on her front door, she groaned quietly at the sight of Marcy standing there with grocery bags in hand.

  “Lord give me strength,” Aria whispered, head tilted back. Pulling the door open, she glared at her best friend.

  Marcy cleared her throat, but wouldn't meet her eyes. “Hi.”

  Aria wasn't going to make this easy for her; they hadn't spoken since Thursday evening at the festival. “Hi.”

  “I came by to cook dinner and to apologize for being a bitch, and I promise I'll keep my thoughts about your love life to myself. You already know where I stand on that subject, so no need for me to bring it up again.”

  Aria let her friend sweat for a minute longer before she moved aside and motioned her in.

  Marcy put the bags on the kitchen island and turned to Aria. “I really am sorry.” Her eyes showed her remorse.

  “I don't forgive you, because we've been over this time and time again, but I'm willing to forget the outburst, and move on.”

  Marcy's shoulders relaxed and she stepped to Aria with her arms opened wide. “Love you, girl.”

  “I love you, too.” Aria hugged her back while eyeing the brown paper bags. “So, what's for dinner tonight?” She pulled away.

  “Lasagna, garlic bread, and salad.”

  “Maybe you’re forgiven a little bit.”

  Marcy let out a relieved chuckle.

  After dinner, ice cream, and wine, Aria loosened up somewhat. “Marcy, I'm gonna tell you something, and I'll never bring the subject up again, so listen carefully.”

  Her friend—nestled in the couch by her side—glanced over at her.

  “I'm fine dating, or having one-night stands, and maybe one day I'll come across Mr. Right, and fall hopelessly in love. I'm not completely shutting that idea out, so please give me some slack since it's only been five months. Aaron fucked me up in a big way, and sure, I'm gun shy, but if love smacks me in the head, I'm a true romantic and will follow my heart. Until then, I plan on having fun. So, don't worry about me, okay?”

  Marcy nodded, and leaned in for a quick hug. “I'll always worry about you, but...”

  Aria tilted her head. “Ugh! Say what you want. Purge it from your system.”

  “Thank you for sharing with me. That's the most you've said on the subject since Aaron left you.”

  “He didn't leave me, he ran from me.”

  Marcy shrugged. “Same difference.”

  “No.” She shook her head adamantly. “Leaving is packing a bag, saying goodbye and walking away. Aaron left his shit, all of it, then he disconnected his phone, e-mail, and social media accounts, and didn't even leave a fucking note. He took off. If his parents hadn’t been honest with me when I called looking for him, I would've thought he was dead in a ditch somewhere.”

  “What exactly did they say...” Marcy waved her hand out in front of her. “No, never mind, not my business.”

  “I don't care, Marcy. My business is your business anyway, but I never talk about it because at first it was too painful, and now it's over and in the past. But the real story I never told anyone, is that things were getting serious between us, he got cold feet, panicked, and left. He told his parents that once he got his head on straight he'd be back for me.”

  “Fuck, Aria! Why didn't you tell me?” The other woman practically jumped off the couch.

  “After month three, and no word from him, I had to give up and move on with my life.” Aria grabbed her wineglass off the end table and barely took a sip, using it more as a prop to hide behind.

  Marcy's hands went to her hips. “Again. Why haven't you told me this before?”

  “Your grandmother had passed away around that time, and you were pretty broken up, so I didn't want to lay my shit on you.” She took another sip.

  Marcy snatched the glass from her, splashing wine over the rim in the process before putting their glasses on the table. “Aria! You're my best friend. What kind of fucked-up thinking is that? I could've been there for you. I thought he was an ass and left, I didn't know there was a promise he might return.”

  “Like I said, it's in the past now. I'm over it, and I'm okay.”

  “You better promise me if anything comes of this, or anything else of this magnitude happens, you will tell me.”

  Aria considered for a moment and then nodded. “I promise.”

  Her friend grinned and held up a fist, her little finger sticking straight out. “Pinky swear.”

  Aria laughed, but Marcy kept her hand in the air. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “Fine.” Aria chuckled and locked pinkies with her friend, but Marcy's prolonged eye contact informed Aria that she was dead serious.

  They settled back onto the couch and watched the movie while drinking wine until they both passed out.

  Chapter Five

  A text message flashed across Devon's cell phone. “What time you heading to the festival?” It was from Breck, of course.

  “Soon.” It was Sunday, the final day of performances, and the lineup looked promising.

  “Good, I'm out front.”

  Devon swung his front door open. Sure enough, Breck was there in the flesh, leaning against his SUV, legs c
rossed at his ankles, and cell phone in his hand.

  Shaking his head, Devon smiled. He held up his pointer finger to indicate he'd be there in a minute. He jogged to his room and threw a T-shirt on, and then grabbed his socks and a pair of sneakers.

  They arrived early, so they had plenty of time before the first band went on. Currently, there were soloists singing classical songs. The guys made small talk in low voices to be respectful to those around them who were watching and enjoying the performance.

  The final soloist finished, and even though they weren't paying attention to her, they applauded.

  “I'm excited about the second band. I've seen some of their stuff on the Internet, and they rock at live performances.” Breck prattled on.

  Devon lost his ability to listen as a certain redhead walked out on stage with a few other women, all of whom were wearing matching pink leotards. His heart beat wildly in his chest.

  “Yo, D, you hear me?”

  “No.” It was all he could say; the damn woman took his breath away. Again.

  “What's gotten into you?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Breck crane his neck around to look at his face. “What are you staring at like that?”

  “Not what, but who.” Devon nodded toward the woman.

  Breck was silent for a moment, and then he chuckled. “Let me guess, the brunette on the right? Oh, or center back? She's hot.”

  “No.”

  “No?” Breck sounded confused and deflated.

  “The redhead.” He sighed in frustration.

  “Red? That's so not your style, man,” he mocked.

  “No, she isn't, and it's refreshing, but exactly the reason why I could never have someone like her.”

  “Whoa! Wait, are you serious?”

  Unable to look away from the beautiful, pale tone of her skin, Devon murmured, “Uh-huh.”

  “Why do you think that? You can have anyone you damn well want; you're Devon Mann.”

  He shook his head. “She's clearly not a groupie, she's a woman who deserves more than I can give.”

  The dancers gathered into their starting formation and the music started. Devon focused on the redhead, watching her every move.

  “Dude, how do you even know, if you haven't talked to her?”

  “Look at her, man. There's no way in hell. She's gorgeous, refined, and graceful.”

  The woman leaned forward on one foot and raised the other behind her and pointed her toes straight to the sky. Her arms were beautifully splayed to her sides, and her chin was up, revealing her long neck.

  “And flexible.” Devon shot him a look, and Breck wiggled his eyebrows.

  That earned him an elbow to the gut.

  “Omph.”

  Breck stopped talking and both men stood there as Devon was entranced by the dancers. At the end of their performance, the women curtsied and shuffled off out of sight.

  Breck nudged him. “Go, man. They're exiting left stage. You might be able to catch her.”

  Not wanting to come off as a pansy, Devon walked in that direction with no intention of speaking with her. Breck remained behind, so the guy would never know.

  There was something about this woman that called to him, but he'd never act on it. Whether it was out of fear of rejection, or because Cindy was still so embedded in his heart, he couldn't tell. Regardless, he needed to see the redhead once more.

  He missed the girls at the stage exit, but found the women's dressing area and waited outside the door like a stalker. Did his fans who waited for the band after shows ever have a case of nerves like this?

  One by one the ladies were exiting. Tapping away at his phone to busy himself, he’d look up each time the door swung open, and finally, red hair came into view. She never looked his way, but one of the pretty brunettes that Breck had pointed out was with Red, and her eyes narrowed.

  He knew that “Where have I seen you before?” expression. Her eyes went wide, and he prayed like hell she was a fan and would drag her friend over to say hello. But then again, what would he say? He couldn't ask, “Wanna fuck?” as he did many times and so casually with groupies. That's how he picked up women; there was never any dating involved so small talk wasn't needed.

  The friend nodded in his direction, and the redhead glanced up at him. She didn't appear to be interested, there was no recognition in her eyes, and she seemed bored, if anything. The brunette smiled and waved at him, but Red dragged her away.

  Epic fail.

  He made his way back to Breck. The guy had a shit-eating grin on his face as he leaned an elbow on the barricade. “You get her number?”

  “No, man. I waited for her and somehow missed her.” The lie rolled off his tongue easily.

  “Too bad, I've never seen you look at a woman like that before.”

  “Like what?” Breck's face screwed up as Devon waited on a response. The guy seemed to be deep in thought.

  He nodded before he spoke. “Like she was something special.”

  “I'm sure she's someone's special already.”

  “I didn't see a ring on her finger.” Breck waved his left hand in front of Devon's face, and Devon smacked it away.

  “You know as well as I do, a ring means nothing. How long were you with Diane, years? She never wore a ring, and she was special to you.”

  “Point taken, but at least no ring means more of a chance with her.”

  “As if I'll ever see her again.”

  “You never know, it's not a big town, their group is local. Your paths might cross again one day soon.”

  Breck spoke confidently, but Devon doubted there was even a chance. Another dance group took the stage. They were the last one before the afternoon break, and then the bands would take over for the rest of the evening.

  Chapter Six

  Marcy rambled on and on about a band, Sinful Souls, that Aria was sure she'd never heard of before. “You should see them, they're so good-looking, Aria. I can't believe you didn't see Devon. He was looking right at us.”

  She humored her friend and listened to her go on in detail about how attractive each band member was. She was certain that wasn't possible, she'd never seen a group of musicians where all of them were “insanely” sexy. Aria shrugged it off and wandered to her kitchen, pulling out stuff to make a smoothie.

  “Hey, want to go out for dinner tonight?” Marcy strolled in behind her.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I'm going out with Bernard tonight.”

  “Ugh, him? Why?” Marcy hopped up on a stool at the kitchen island in the center of the room. “He has awful taste in music.”

  “Aside from that minor infraction, he's not bad.”

  “Not bad, but not good either. You haven't slept with him yet, have you? I mean, you would've told me, right?”

  “No, I haven't.” Aria chuckled at her friend's scrunched-up face and wrinkled nose. “We've been on four dates over a few months, I think. All we've done is kiss and hold hands. He seems content to do just that, and I'm okay with it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.” She shot Marcy a pointed look. “I don't sleep with everyone I go out with.”

  “Where's the fun in that?” Marcy mumbled. “And you're still seeing other people?”

  “Sure, we aren't committed or anything like that. How are things with Reed?”

  “Ok, I guess.”

  “You guess? Shit, if you guys don't make it, what hope do I have?”

  “I mean things are fine, like always. I just wish he'd be more spontaneous...or something.”

  Aria slid a smoothie in front of her friend and Marcy eyed it carefully. “Do I even want to know what's in this one?”

  Aria laughed. “Probably not, but you sat here while I made it.”

  “I wasn't paying attention,” she scoffed. “I was distracted by your poor taste in men.”

  “Shut up and drink.”

  Marcy picked up the glass of red slushy liquid and took a sip. Her eyebrows rose. “Not bad. I'd gladly have
this one again.”

  “I'll make a note of it.” Aria was into eating healthy foods. She didn’t eat that way all the time, but tried when she could.

  Marcy sucked her smoothie down and slid off the stool, placing her glass in the dishwasher. She sighed. “I gotta get home and shower, I'm beat. How do you have energy to go on a date tonight?”

  “I warned him it would be an early night.”

  Marcy pulled her into a quick hug. “If you need rescuing, I'm your girl. Text me, and I'll call with some absurd reason for you to leave.”

  “Thanks, but I'll be fine.”

  ***

  Aria waited in front of her house, leaning against the large fountain in the center of her circular driveway.

  Bernard pulled up and slowed to a stop for Aria to hop into his Mercedes Benz. “Hello, beautiful.” It was his usual greeting.

  She smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Hello, handsome.”

  His eyes widened at her greeting. She'd never commented on his looks before, but he truly was handsome and neatly groomed on any given day. Bernard was smart and had a lot of money as a result. He’d majored in computer science and got picked up by a prestigious company right out of college.

  Aria didn't want to settle down, but couldn't figure out why she wasn't more attracted to Bernard. On paper, he was perfect for her—except for his obsessive love for jazz. She enjoyed jazz, but to a limit. He knew all kinds of trivia about the history of jazz, and it would drive her nuts when he'd get going and share the data with her.

  “I have something special planned for us tonight.”

  “I can't be out too late,” she reminded him.

  “You'll be pleased. This is something different, and I think you'll enjoy it.”

  Aria couldn't've been more surprised if Bernard sprouted a second head as they pulled up to a bar-and-grill restaurant. His usual haunts were high-end snobbish eateries, and the yacht club.