by Holley Trent
“I shouldn’t dignify that question with a response, but yes.” Raleigh settled into a chair in the next row back. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Oh, I’m gonna be on cloud fuckin’ nine all day.” He popped the latches on his guitar case and smiled ruefully. “And I’m going to remind you that you told me immediately after this meeting.”
“And I thought I was petty.”
“Petty and Pretty.” Bruce rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Can you sing? We can be an act.”
“You don’t ever want to hear me sing, Bruce. I can’t hold a tune.”
Bruce darted in close before Raleigh could think to lean away. His mouth was at his ear, breath tinged with quiet laughter. “Sound pretty good when you moan,” he whispered. “That talent usually conveys.”
Raleigh forced down a labored swallowing and bobbed his knee to keep his cock from agitating.
“Should I have said that?” Bruce whispered.
“No.”
“I kind of knew.”
“And yet you said it anyway.”
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to go play music now.”
“Good. Get the hell away from me.”
“You gonna watch? Like you said?”
“I suppose,” Raleigh grumbled dramatically. “If I must.”
“And then I’ll remind you that you said I’m pretty. I wish there was someone I could brag to about that. It feels like a coup.”
“You are a bonafide mess, Bruce Engle.”
“Ev says that so much more nicely and she puts her hands on my cheeks when she tells me. Medicine’s easier to take when the person giving it is straddling your lap.”
“You’re an asshole,” Raleigh said, grateful for the dark so he could discreetly adjust the tent in his slacks.
“You were mean to me. You deserve it.” With a wink, Bruce walked away.
He had no way of knowing just how much Raleigh deserved it.
And he didn’t really deserve either of them, but there he was, pondering possibilities and weighing options.
He put his foot up on the armrest in front of him and let out a dry laugh as Bruce shook hands of the musicians in the pit.
It was ridiculous. He was imagining opportunities that months ago, he would have found insulting.
But the odds of any of them coming to fruition were low. He was going to see Everley and let her know why he’d been a dick and offer her whatever she wanted.
Bruce was probably better for her. Any fool could see that, but Raleigh was long overdue for some good luck. Maybe his time had come.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“That was all right, wasn’t it? Felt good. Can’t remember the last time I could say that about something related to work. Maybe because it didn’t feel like work.” Bruce pulled his guitar case in tight against his body so he and Raleigh could squeeze through the theater’s exit simultaneously.
With a hand already raised to flag a taxi, Raleigh grunted.
“Oh, hell. What’d I do wrong?” A vicious gust of wind snapped between the buildings and drove right through Bruce’s body. He shuddered. He needed to keep moving or he was going to freeze to death before the producers could even make him an offer.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Three taxis in a row sped past, flooring it through the yellow light.
Raleigh swore under his breath and took a deep breath. He found his phone in his briefcase and started fiddling with apps. Peering over his shoulder, Bruce observed that they were ride apps.
“I could call my service. You know that, right?”
“I’ll call it for you when I’m done. I’ve got to head home and I doubt you live anywhere near me.”
“You in a hurry? I think I left my coat around here. I figured we could go get it.”
“I did have somewhere I needed to be.” Raleigh grimaced. “Shit. Where are all the cars tonight? Any other time, they’d be swarming around here.” He closed the apps and glanced at the clock on his screensaver. “We were in the theater for nearly three hours.”
“I didn’t think it would take that long. Are you angry with me?”
“No. I don’t think you could have known.”
Yet another cab approached without stopping.
Raleigh spewed out another stream of profane frustration and spun around to Bruce. “All right. If you want me to help you find your coat, let’s go. What’s it look like?”
Bruce got his bearings and planted his foot toward the shop. Two blocks, if he was remembering correctly. “It’s plaid. It’s—”
“God, not the coat you had on in LA.”
“Is that what I was wearing?”
“Do you have more than one plaid coat?”
“No. Why do you sound like my jacket perturbs you?” Bruce asked with a laugh. “It didn’t do anything to you.”
They wove through a slow-moving throng of tourists and rejoined on the other side.
“It’s...” Raleigh grimaced. “A bit threadbare.”
“It’s comfortable.”
“Out of fashion.”
“I don’t think it was ever in fashion. That’s what my nan told my granddad, anyway.”
“It was your grandfather’s coat?”
“Yep. He thought it made him look dapper, but he was a shepherd, you know? That’s in the book, I think. I put that in there—that he was a shepherd and Nan was a seamstress, and aside from my school uniform, all my clothes were homemade until I was ten. I didn’t know any better.”
“You’ve lost your grandfather’s coat, then.”
“I don’t like to think of it like that. I lose a lot of things, usually not for good, though, except the phones. I’d be gutted if that coat didn’t turn up.”
“We’ll find it. You should probably stop wearing it after we do.”
Raleigh made the rediscovery sound inevitable rather than speculative.
And he didn’t make him feel foolish for having lost the damned thing, again, in the first place. Bruce was used to that—the gentle scolds, the clucking tongues, the shaking heads.
Raleigh was a man who had his shit together and who should have scorned Bruce for his lack of organization, but he seemed oblivious to it. Or perhaps he was just so together that he was used to being everyone else’s brain as well as his own.
“In here,” Bruce said when they’d reached the coffeehouse door. “I’d stopped in for a bit to check my emails. I’d sent Ev a bunch before but she didn’t write back.”
Raleigh held the door open for him and gestured toward the inside. “Did you wonder why?”
“I could only guess. One moment.” Bruce scanned the shop, standing on his toes to see over all the people and the crowded tables. His coat wasn’t at the table he’d sat at or anywhere nearby. He doubted anyone would steal it. It wasn’t worth anything to anyone except him, and as Raleigh had stated, it wasn’t fashionable. He waved at a barista and breathed and swallowed before speaking so his words didn’t all come out on top of each other. “Hello. I was here earlier today and I may have left my coat. Long plaid?”
“Yes, yes! Hold on.” She disappeared into an adjoining room and returned seconds later with his coat, completely unharmed.
Overwhelmed with gratitude and relief, he clasped a hand over his heart and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Raleigh pulled the coat over the counter and draped it around Bruce’s shoulders. “Order something and tip the lady heavily,” he whispered as he straightened the collar.
Oh.
“Could I have a tea, please? Earl Grey. To go.” Turning to Raleigh, he asked, “You want anything?”
“Mm. Black coffee. It’s going to be a long night.”
“Why’s that?”
&nbs
p; “Got to do some driving.”
“To where?”
Raleigh leaned past Bruce and said to the barista, “Is there something happening around here tonight? There’s a cab shortage all of a sudden. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Two things. One is there’s a big awards show,” she said cheerily as she ripped off the top of a tea packet. “Everyone’s swarming over there. Second is that I heard some rumbles there might be a strike starting in the next twenty-four hours. Something about a law regarding idling in a traffic lane to pick up fares.” With the teabag half-paused on the way to the cup, she yanked her head up and gaped. “Wait. You—”
Before panic could completely settle, Raleigh interjected with, “Awards show? Oh, is that tonight? I totally forgot. He doesn’t go to them anymore.”
“So, he...is? You know.” Her gaze flitted rapidly between Bruce and Raleigh as though she were afraid to say his name.
“Don’t feel bad. I didn’t recognize him the first time I met him, either.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “You’d think I’d be used to seeing musicians come in here, but I never do. Every single time, my brain goes...” She made a fizzling sound and finished depositing the bag into the cup. “I was scrolling through the red carpet feed before you came in. Your band was there. You weren’t with them.”
“He couldn’t very well be two places at once, could he?” Raleigh asked.
“But why isn’t he there?”
“Probably because he’s recovering from the flu. Not contagious anymore, but he certainly doesn’t have the endurance to sit through four hours of speeches.”
“Ugh, I missed a week of work last month to flu. It’s so bad this year. I’m trying to pick up extra hours at my other job to get back on my feet.”
When she turned her back to pour Raleigh’s coffee, Bruce stuffed a couple of twenties into the tip jar. And then one more, because certainly his coat was worth at least that.
After paying for their drinks and having Raleigh snap a picture of Bruce with the giddy barista, Bruce thanked her again for rescuing his coat and followed Raleigh back to the sidewalk.
“Thank you for that,” Bruce said as Raleigh stepped toward the curb and looked both ways. “I know you don’t like lying.”
“Amazing how good I am at it when I try, hmm? Not a habit I want to get into.”
“You did it to protect me. Didn’t you?”
“She’s going to talk. All of the staff are. You’d much rather have people think you’ve been ill than have them speculate that you’re avoiding events because of something dramatic going on with the band. They’ll find out soon enough. Relish your peace while you have it.”
“You could have thrown me to the wolves.”
“No, I couldn’t have,” Raleigh murmured.
Bruce fully intended to follow up on that enigmatic statement, but a cab stopped at that exact moment and Raleigh climbed in.
He’d dropped his newspaper on the curb. Bruce bent to fetch it for him, but stopped short at the picture on the thin periodical’s front page.
It took him a moment to register. She was at the side edge of the photo, but her name was clearly listed—though misspelled—at the bottom. “Lisa Cartwright, owner, discusses need for rejuvenation facility as assistant Evelyn Shane looks on.” She was in snow boots, shapeless jeans, a slouchy beanie hat, and a flannel shirt. She didn’t look like herself, but Bruce would have recognized her anywhere. Obviously, Raleigh had as well.
That was his Ev in some place the paper called the Carvel Courier reported about.
He snapped the paper open to read the publication’s location as the cabbie yelled out, “You gettin’ in bud?” and Raleigh said from the far side of the back seat, “Get in.”
Bruce did, shoving his guitar in first and slamming the door. “Paper’s dated three days ago. You didn’t say a damned word to me.”
“No. I didn’t.” Raleigh leaned forward and gave the driver an address.
“Why not?”
“She’s not returning your calls or responding to your emails.”
“Is she responding to yours?”
Raleigh didn’t respond.
Bruce let out a dry laugh. “Oh, I see. Well. Looks like we’re taking a little field trip, then, hmm? Don’t you fucking dare tell me I’m not invited. I’m going to see Ev. She told me to come see her when I got back.”
Raleigh folded his arms over his chest and stared out his window. Apparently, he had nothing to say for himself.
“I can’t believe that I thought even for one minute that you were trying to help me out of the goodness of your heart,” Bruce said acidly. “I won’t make that mistake again. Trust me.”
“If only I could.”
* * *
“That was fun. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a road trip before. Why are you leaning so close to the steering wheel?” Bruce unfastened his seatbelt and turned to Raleigh.
He’d put his car in Park at the front lot of The Burnout Bungalows’ front office, and for a minute had stared at the parking lot, just gripping the steering wheel.
Bruce scanned the office’s windows hoping to get a glimpse of Ev, but they were dark and likely covered. If anyone was in there, they probably hadn’t seen Raleigh’s headlights.
“In case I didn’t make that perfectly clear hours ago when I got into your car,” Bruce said, “I do intend to fucking brutalize you as soon as I’ve seen Everley. You were coming and weren’t going to say anything.”
“I was coming to make sure she’s fine.”
“Because she quit on you.”
Raleigh’s nod came slowly.
“I see. So you’re doing this out of pure concern?” Bruce just couldn’t buy that. Pure concern didn’t generally come cloaked in subterfuge.
“Anyone would be concerned about a person who walks away from the prospect of a guaranteed six-figure job without even telling her family she’s leaving.”
“So, when you’ve decided she’s fine, then what? You gonna go back to the city and forget she’s here?”
Raleigh didn’t respond.
Apparently, Bruce had pie-in-the-sky ideals and he’d gotten played again, just like he had the day he met him.
No matter what he did, he was never going to make Raleigh bend.
He got out of the car and marched to the door. His fist was poised to knock, but the inner door flew open before his hand could make contact with the frame.
A statuesque woman with dreadlocks gathered into a ribboned ponytail and who wore brown shimmer eyeshadow leaned in the doorway.
“I have that eyeshadow,” Bruce blurted and immediately mentally berated himself. He was there for one reason and one reason only, yet the non sequitur had tumbled out. It was his nervous trigger.
She blinked at him.
Fuck. He shifted his weight. “I can tell by the glitter color. Ethereal Blends, innit?”
She sighed, letting down her guard, it seemed. “It’s on backorder again. Trying to make it last. Tonight’s a special occasion.”
“You can have mine. Undertone’s not right for me. Makes me look like I have glitter on top of a shiner.”
“You can go ahead and mail it here, care of Lisa Cartwright. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
“Good! So, what do you want?”
“I’m Bruce.”
“Yes, you are.”
“And you said something about a special occasion? Is it Ev?” He was rambling, but he didn’t care. Lisa was playing gatekeeper and he wasn’t going to get past her until she allowed it.
She blinked at him again.
“I want to see Ev. She’s here, isn’t she? I promise I won’t bother her, if that’s what you’re worried about. If she wants to tell me to go away—”
“Let them in,
Lisa,” came a weary-sounding voice farther inside the office.
“Oh, good.” Lisa straightened up spryly and got out of the doorway. “Cold as my bed out there. I knew you weren’t going to hold out for long.” She called over her shoulder to Bruce, “We saw you on the security camera.”
“I see.” He was about to shut the door and lock it but Raleigh got his foot in the gap before he could and levered it open.
“Fucker,” he said in an undertone.
“Feeling’s mutual, lover. I meant what I said.” He gave Raleigh a hard elbow to the side. “And I believe you still have something to tell me. Now you’ll have to tell me twice just for pissing me off.”
Raleigh rolled his eyes and passed Bruce, looking around the room. Mismatched furniture had been artfully arranged to create seating areas around the massive space. There were rustic tables made out of what appeared to be fallen logs, kitschy artwork featuring nineteenth-century hunting scenes, and a lot of faded hand-tied rugs on the floor. Everything didn’t match, per se, but somehow, it all went together. It was cozy.
Ev was seated by the fireplace, laptop on thighs, short hair held back from her eyes with one of those thin elastic bands athletes favored. He was wearing more makeup than she was at the moment, which was to say she was wearing literally none and he had a full slap.
After all, he had an image to maintain, and he didn’t think he looked like much of anything without contouring.
Her eyes were wide with emotion when Raleigh knelt in front of her. Bruce was about to walk between them so she wouldn’t have to look at Raleigh if she didn’t want to, but she said, “I had a hunch someone would find me when I planted that news item, but I sure as shit didn’t think it’d be you.”
“You thought you could disappear without anyone caring?”
“My father cares.” She tapped her laptop lid. “Want to read my emails?”
“If you want me to. I can pass along the important bits.”
It sounded like a joke to Bruce, but surprisingly, Ev passed Raleigh the machine.
He tucked it under his arm.
“I guess I mistakenly believed he’d get over it in a week or so,” she said. “He’s taking it personally.”
