“Come here, Sweet Thing.” A large hand reached up and pulled the girl’s head down. The girl disappeared with another giggle and Charlotte reached up for her purse, stood and hurried out of the door. The bright morning light assaulted her. She took a deep breath as she leaned against the door. No one would know about her evening of debauchery. It’s not like she’d ever run into any of these people in her normal life. She’d been bad and gotten away with it. It was a heady feeling. No wonder Viv misbehaved so many times. It was liberating. She spotted the taxi pulling up to the curb outside the gates of the house. Smiling to herself, Charlotte Elizabeth Lambert proceeded on her very first walk of shame.
Damn, he had another boner. He felt himself smile. Vivienne had inspired him. He and his boy were back. He was ready for round four. He reached across the big mattress for the hot woman who motivated his comeback. When he didn’t find her warm body, he lifted his head to find an empty bed. She was gone. What the fuck? Groupies never leave by themselves. They had to be pushed out the door. His head dropped back on the mattress. He couldn’t believe it. Maybe she was down in the kitchen getting a snack. They’d used up a lot of energy. He was starving, too. Sliding out of the bed, he looked for her clothes, but everything was gone. Damn, damn, damn. He bent over and reached for his jeans. He spotted her panties lying next to his discarded towel. He picked them up, forcing himself not to bring them to his nose. Instead, he stuffed them in his pocket. There was a knock at his bedroom door.
A second later, the door opened and Gavin stuck his shaggy blond head in. “Hey dude, are you fucking Charlotte?”
“No. Why?”
“She left her phone downstairs and some cranky broad is asking for her.”
Travis shrugged. He had more important things to think about. Gavin turned and a few seconds later he heard a knock. “Shane, you got a Charlotte in there?”
Travis grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. By the time he was in the hallway, he found Gavin standing in the middle of the stairs yelling into the phone. “Look lady, I know what a fucking cretin is, but I still can’t find Charlotte. Name calling isn’t helping. Maybe she left her fucking phone here. If you want to give me your fucking address, I’ll bring it right the fuck over, but you gotta stop yelling at me like I’m a fucking idiot. You get me?” He spotted Travis, pointed his finger to his head like a gun, and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Have a good fucking day.”
Gavin brushed past him and stomped down the stairs. Travis followed him hoping to find Vivienne downstairs so he could drag her upstairs to really get his day started the right way. At the bottom of the stairs they ran into Malcolm and his date.
Gavin pointed the phone at the woman. “Are you Charlotte?”
The brunette shook her head. “Brandie.”
“I thought it was Sandy.”
She shook her head. “You can call me anything you want.”
Malcolm usually called them “babe” so he didn’t have to remember their names.
“What the fuck is going on down here?”
Travis turned at Declan’s voice to see that he was followed by Shane and Vaughn.
Gavin shrugged. “Some chick named Charlotte left her phone here and some crazy bitch is calling yelling at me like I stole it. Did anyone fuck a Charlotte last night?”
Everyone said no, but it could have been iffy since no girl really gives names or vital information.
“Well then, I guess we’ll add Charlotte’s phone to the collection. Not as fun as panties though.” The front door opened and Travis turned. Vivienne had come back. Smiling, he was ready for the next round.
Gavin stepped around him. “Are you Charlotte?”
She blushed but didn’t answer.
Gavin held out the phone. “Is this your phone?”
She nodded.
“Your name is Vivienne.” Travis was confused
She bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Travis.”
“You lied to me.” He couldn’t believe it.
She looked close to tears as she grabbed the phone. “Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.” She turned and bolted down the walkway and out of the gate, before he could do anything. Actually, he was just standing there with his thumb up his ass. There wasn’t a sound in the hallway, but he could feel every eye boring into him.
“What the hell just happened?” Malcolm pointed at the door.
Damn couldn’t he just disappear into the woodwork? “I am not sure.”
Shane frowned. “Seems to me you got humped and dumped.”
Declan nodded his golden blond head. “And lied to.”
At least no one made fun of him, but the looks of pity just might have been worse. No. What was worse was that the first woman he’d met in a long time who caught his interest had lied to him, bedded him, and then ran so fast his head was still spinning. He rubbed his eyes trying to figure out how to slink upstairs to lick his wounds. “Damn.”
Gavin put his hand on his shoulder. “You okay, dude?”
Travis’s first instinct was to shrug off Gavin’s hand, but that would hurt the kid’s feelings and as the baby band member, everyone treated him like an adored little brother. “Yeah, I’ll live.”
Vaughn sneered. “What a fucking cunt.”
Leave it to Vaughn to get nasty. Travis felt like he had to defend Vivienne. No Charlotte. “That was harsh.”
Declan folded his arms across his chest. “Hell, I want to find her just to give her some grief.”
“I just want to know why.”
Gavin patted himself on the chest. “You want me to track her down?”
“You can do that?”
“(504) 555-6935.”
“That’s her number?”
Gavin shook his head. “That’s her mother’s number. When I find the mother, I find her. I can get you her bank account numbers if you want.”
What the hell was he thinking, give Gavin Wi-Fi and an hour and he’d find Hoffa. At ten, Gavin had gotten into serious trouble hacking into the DOD. If his parents weren’t so well-connected in the entertainment industry, he would have been in serious trouble. His mother had put him in front of a drum kit and the world was saved, ‘cause Gavin would have ended up ruling the world or doing serious time. Neither was a comforting thought. “Stalker much?”
“Stalking is a felony, I’m just helping a friend out.” Gavin sounded so sincere. “Do you want me to find her or not?”
He thought for moment. There was a connection with this woman, one he hadn’t felt in, like, forever. He wanted to know why she did this to him, and then he’d figure out what to do next. “Yeah.”
“Step into my office.” Gavin walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. “Talking about me?”
A half-naked blonde was on her phone, propped on a red pillow. She looked up briefly and smiled. “I’m not using your real name. What are you doing?”
“Hooking Travis up.”
“Hi Travis.” She waved.
He held up a hand. “Hi.”
“Sweet Thing, would you please get me a beer?”
She smiled and stood. Just before she walked off in nothing but her pink thong, Gavin smacked her butt and she giggled.
“Sweet Thing?” Travis asked.
“We’re in the South.” Gavin cracked his knuckles, wiped his big hands on his neon green and blue board shorts, and began typing.
Travis noticed that the entire band had followed them into the living room. Fuck, did everyone have to see his act of utter desperation?
Gavin’s long fingers flew across the laptop keyboard. “Come to Poppa.”
Travis noticed his palms were sweating. He couldn’t help leaning over the sofa trying to figure out what Gavin was doing.
Gavin pressed a few more keys then stopped. “You know you’re making me nervous, right?”
Travis shook his head. “Shit, nothing makes you nervous.”
“Booyah!” Gavin held up his arms. “Who’s the man?”
Trav
is’s heart started to race. “You found her?”
“I found her mother. Nicole Lambert.”
A few seconds later a picture came on the screen. Looking at the woman, Travis could see the resemblance. The woman was in her fifties and blonde, but looked a lot like Vivienne –– no Charlotte. Charlotte looked softer, nicer. But she would age well.
“Now I can find Charlotte Lambert.”
“I know Charlotte Lambert.”
Everyone turned to look at Malcolm’s date Sandy, Candy, Brandie … whatever.
Travis walked over to her. “Are you friends?”
She snorted. “I’m not in her league.”
Malcolm smirked. “She’s just a girl.”
Brandie shook her head. “The Lamberts own half the city. I barely own my car.”
Travis was getting desperate. “Then how do you know her?”
“The Lambert Foundation does a fundraiser for the zoo every year. I work there.”
“Doing?” Malcolm asked.
“I’m a vet.”
Malcolm jiggled his eyebrows. “Smart and kinky. I like.”
“I didn’t even recognize her. She was totally hot. I’d have a three-way with her in a second.”
Oh, hell no you won’t, Travis thought. He wasn’t sharing her, if he … Well he just wasn’t.
“Damn Travis, that ain’t the girl you were with.” Gavin pointed to a picture on the screen. And he was almost right. Charlotte looked different. Her hair was in a tight bun, she was wearing mom clothes, and she was a bit heavier. Not that she wasn’t seriously pretty, but last night she had looked like a sex kitten. Travis would have still noticed her. Still wanted her. How could he not want to kiss that soft mouth or get lost in her chocolate brown eyes?
Declan was leaning over the computer. “So dude, here’s the question, did you fuck the dead girl or her frumpy twin sister?”
He swore to God, if any of them threw out another insult toward Charlotte he would kick their ass. “What?”
Gavin tapped the computer screen. “Vivienne Lambert died about six months ago. Here’s her obituary.”
Travis looked the picture. She looked just like Charlotte except for the short spiky hair and the lack of beauty mark above her lip. She had a devil-may-care glint in her eyes that Charlotte seemed to lack.
Declan sat on the sofa. “That is just strange.”
Travis didn’t know what to say.
Vaughn poked him in the chest. “Rich, hot, and a freak. If you ever cock block me again, I’ll kick your ass.”
Travis took a step into Vaughn’s space, and glared down at him, noticing he paled a bit and took a step back. “You can try.”
“On Sunday, Charlotte-slash-Vivienne is hosting a garden party at the Botanical Gardens for New Orleans Garden Society. Classy names by the way.”
Travis thought for a moment. How far did he want to take this? There was something about her that called to him. He wanted to know why she walked out on him. Who was he kidding? He just wanted her again. “What do people do at a garden party? Smell flowers?” Travis turned to Declan and Malcolm. They would know. Declan was raised as a Hollywood kid and he went to rich people parties all the time. Malcolm’s dad was rock royalty and his stepfather, Gavin’s dad, owned the biggest artists’ agency in the country. Travis may have money, but he didn’t have class.
Declan shrugged. “Stand around outside, drink tea, and eat sandwiches that don’t have crusts. And talk about flowers.”
Travis tried to picture that. “Is that what snobby rich people do for fun?”
“Pretty much.” Declan nodded.
“I can do that.” Or at least he hoped he could.
Declan stood back and stared at him as if he were contemplating. “You’re going to need a few things.”
“Like what?”
“A decent suit.”
Travis didn’t own a suit. He hadn’t even rented one for Andy’s funeral. “Okay.”
Declan smiled. “You’re going to need a manicure.”
He could trim his own nails. “Like a girl?”
Declan pointed to his hair. “You’re going to have to get a haircut.”
“What the fuck?”
Declan laughed. “High Society and long hair don’t mix.”
He wasn’t going to cut his hair. She loved his hair. Even told him so. Especially when he was between her long legs eating her pussy. “Oh, fuck me.”
“You want her? You have to earn her. She’s not like regular women.”
“Damn.” He did want her.
Malcolm asked. “Is she worth all the effort?”
“Is any chick?” There was Vaughn, and his one cent worth.
Travis poked him in the chest. “That’s why your girlfriend is your right hand.”
Shane laughed. “I’m out of here. Have fun chasing the rich girl. Call me to help pick up the pieces. This is a disaster waiting to happen.”
Leave it to Shane to come up with an evac-plan. Travis took a deep breath; he couldn’t figure this out by himself. He was from regular, working class people. He didn’t know the rules of the wealthy. He looked at Declan and Malcolm. “Will you help me?”
Declan smiled. There was a strange look on his face as if he was calculating something. “I’m in.”
Travis hadn’t pursued a woman in a long time. He didn’t need to. Easy women were part of what he signed on for when he decided on music for a career. Was he up to the chase? Last night he felt alive for the first time in a year. Charlotte was responsible for that. There was a sweetness about her, a softness that called to him. He wanted to feel that again if only for a moment. Plain and simple, he wanted her. He was going to get her.
Chapter Four
Declan pulled a light blue Gucci suit from the rack. It was Travis’s size. Not bad. Not much beat fine Italian tailoring, but he hung it back on the rack. The suit was too trendy. He couldn’t see his rhythm guitarist in a baby blue suit. Travis was a big man. He needed something simple, classic, to hone his rough edges. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Malcolm going over a shelf full of men’s dress shoes. In his ripped black jeans and hoodie, he looked out of place in the elegant store. Declan would have preferred to come here alone with Travis, but Malcolm insisted on tagging along. As if he didn’t trust him. He could feel Malcolm’s judgmental vibe all the way across the tiny tailor’s shop. Not even the old world atmosphere of the shop could alleviate his tension. His oldest friend thought he was playing it cool, but there was apprehension in every line of his body.
Malcolm always played it close to the vest. When your dad was a drunk absentee father, you learned early on not to get excited about much. Declan thought Malcolm was lucky he had his mom and his stepfather. They made a home for him. When his father’s abuse broke his mother, he’d had enough, got himself emancipated, and they had taken him in. Cherry and Jay had even petitioned the court to get custody of Declan’s younger brother Brody, but Brody denied the abuse and stayed with that evil bastard. They showed him what a real family was like, but most of the damage had been done. It didn’t hurt that Malcolm’s mother was one of the most powerful agents in the entertainment business, or that her balls were bigger than his father’s. His father was smart enough to go after them.
Before Malcolm reached him, the owner of the shop appeared at his side. “Mr. Shaw, I had this in stock. The gentleman who ordered it was unable to have it completed.”
Translated, the guy couldn’t afford to get it altered. He refused to feel guilty over some dude’s misfortune. Declan examined the pearl gray suit. Brioni. This was classic Italian tailoring. Six grand worth of superfine wool perfection on a hanger. He sighed as he ran his hand over the soft material. He had several of the designer’s bespoke suits in his closet. It would be perfect. This was the one. Score. At least Travis was going to look like he belonged among the rich and shameless. “Are you sure you can have this ready by noon tomorrow?”
The short man smiled and nodded. “Ruby is with th
e gentleman now, taking his measurements. She’ll have it ready.”
This is why it was good to have money and status. He got what he wanted when he wanted it. “Then we’ll take it.”
“Very good sir.”
“We’ll also need everything else.”
He inclined his head slightly. “I will arrange for matching men’s furnishing to be brought in the dressing room. I have some particularly smart cuff links that you might like.”
“Thank you, Stephan. You’ve been very helpful.”
The man hung the suit on a rack next to him and walked away but not before Declan saw him smile. Ka-ching.
“Why are we doing this?”
Declan turned to find Malcolm standing next to him. “Because Travis thinks formal wear is a clean pair of jeans.”
Malcolm held up a light blue shirt next to the suit. “Not helping him buy a suit, helping him get a girl. This girl.”
Declan shook his head, not liking the shirt. “Friends help friends get laid. I’ve done it plenty of times for you.”
Malcolm rolled his green eyes. “He can get laid anytime he wants without our help. Why her?”
“Did you see the way she checked him out?” He saw the way Travis looked at her. It was the same way he stared at a Renoir. Not the typical you’re-a-god-and-I just-want-to-fuck-you groupie gaze. Hell she looked at him like he was a real man. Like he was a real person. No one looked at them like that anymore. Who didn’t want to feel that special in someone’s eyes –– like it matters who you are, not what you are again?
“Yeah I get that, but she lied to him and then she walked out on him.”
“She felt guilty. It was all over her face.”
Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose. A sure sign he was mad at him. “Do you think she’s going to fix him?”
So Malcolm was on to him. He shrugged. God, he could only hope. Out of all of them Travis needed it the most. Andy’s death devastated him. He was still hurting. “He wants her.”
“Do you think if you help him, he’s going to stay in the band once the album is done?”
You Shook Me All Night Long Page 4
