Zenith Falling (Zenith Trilogy, #1)

by Leanne Davis

  Rock star wife she tried to look outside Nick’s office, but at heart, he couldn’t see it. He saw a scared, little girl drowning in a lifestyle that she was completely ill-suited for. A lifestyle that completely stressed her out, and was running her ragged.

  “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Rob.”

  At hearing Joelle’s voice, Nick took it as his cue to finally turn back towards them.

  “This is Nick Lassiter. Remember I told you about him? He’s Trina’s older brother.” Her statement was more for Nick than for Rob. Why? To make sure Nick clearly understood that she did tell Rob about him? Ergo, there was nothing secret or clandestine about their relationship.

  “Hey, Lassiter. Nice to meet you. Enjoying the show?” Rob said, holding his hand out.

  “Yeah. Sure. Nice to meet you,” Nick said, shaking his hand. Why did he feel so loath to be polite? Even to just shake the man’s hand? Rob hadn’t done anything to him. But for some reason, Nick felt like Rob had somehow personally affronted him. He decided he intensely disliked Rob Williams, just as Rob turned away from him and started mingling with the throngs of people milling all around them.

  Eventually, Nick was standing near Joelle, as they watched Rob. “So, how have things been going for you?”

  Her eyebrows lowered and her mouth tightened. She didn’t like answering his questions. “Fine. Better. The job made a big difference.”

  “I was referring to more personal matters. I never see you on Wednesdays anymore.”

  “I can’t, I work at the salon until nine each night.”

  He sighed. He didn’t realize she had to continue working evenings. He hoped she made enough from just one full time job. “I wasn’t aware of that. Are things okay there?”

  She glanced at her husband several paces away, holding a drink, and taking a quick shot, as he laughed with the weirdly dressed guy who played the keyboard.

  “Things are not so okay there,” she finally said after a long pause. Her voice was so low he had to lean down to hear her.

  “Then you should find another time that works for you; find another meeting, Joelle.”

  Her gaze sought his out. “Why? What’s it doing for me?”

  “Wasn’t hurting you, was it?”

  “Rob just needs to be discovered, things will get better then. He won’t be so frustrated.”

  “It’s not for his sake. And that sounds like a pretty weak excuse to me.”

  “Easy for you to be judgmental when you’re a success in your chosen profession! So please don’t think you understand.”

  “You’re right, I don’t understand. I really don’t understand how a day job would be the end of the world for Rob. I don’t understand why you do everything, and he gets to do whatever he wants.”

  “Stop it! You don’t get it. Us. You really don’t.”

  “No, I don’t get it,” he agreed. He shook his head, casually taking a drink. “I don’t get why you put up with being taken so much for granted.”

  “He’s my husband, Nick. Not my boss. Not my friend. My husband. And I love him.”

  “No need to keep repeating it. I know.”

  “Do you? Then what are you doing here?”

  “Nothing to do with you, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  She looked away. Her shoulders hunched forward, making her appear more thin and slender against the narrow straps of her flimsy tank top. He doubted she wore a bra; her breasts were so small, like quarters on her chest. “I’m just confused why you know so much about me, and my life. More than my own husband sometimes.”

  “I know more about you than he does because he’d have to get past himself for five minutes to see you. It doesn’t take a genius to see how stressed out you are. It took me two seconds to notice that things were bad for you. But Rob doesn’t want to see that, does he? Or deal with you? Or help you. You made the decision to let that go on. Half of that is on you. As for us, you’re married, and I’m your boss. That’s our relationship, nothing more. So you can quit worrying I’m trying to be anything beyond that to you.”

  Nick spun on his heel and left before she could respond. He strode out of the smoky, too hot club. His pace was purposeful. He became furious with Joelle, her continued stupidity towards her husband, and her constant inferences that he… what? Wanted her? What a laugh. Wanting a girl who not only dressed stupid, but didn’t have the first clue how to handle her life. Like he would ever ask for or want the kind of drama, no, the total train wreck, that Joelle Williams represented. No, thank you.

  “Nick, wait!”

  Joelle’s voice called after him. He was outside on the sidewalk, where it was much less crowded. Cool air hit his face and the streetlights shone on the bare streets. She had to run to catch him. She touched his arm to finally stop him.

  He spun around. “What do you want?”

  “Rob and the band plan to go party somewhere, and I don’t want to. I can take the bus home, but I thought maybe you could you give me a ride.”

  He stared at her before shaking his head. “You have some nerve. Accusing me of trying to come between you and your husband in one breath, and asking me for a ride in the next?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not used to people like you. I made it a bigger deal than it is because you aren’t like anyone else in my life.”

  He shook his head, looking confused. “Then what am I?”

  “Nice to me, Nick. You’re just so damn nice to me.”

  He was quiet for a long moment as he pondered her statement. She thought he was nice to her? Jesus, he was only being courteous. No more courteous or polite than he was to everyone else he encountered. How could she think he was giving her some kind of special treatment? God, she really needed to get out more often in normal society if only to see what being around decent people was all about. He narrowed his eyes at her. “He loves you; your husband, I mean. I saw it in there. I’m glad for you. Go be with him.”

  “He does. He does love me, and he doesn’t cheat on me, and he sings beautiful songs to me, and about me. And yet, when I’ve worked all day, and my feet hurt and I want to go home, I can’t depend on him to be there for me.”

  Nick stared into her black eyes. “What do you want from me?”

  “I don’t know,” she said quietly, looking away, and down the street past him. Her shoulders hunched as she tucked her hands into the pockets of her skirt. “But I’d like to go home. And yet I hate my home. But I have nowhere else to go. I have no family, and all the friends in the world I have are in there right now with Rob, getting high and drunk. Except for you. You’re not.”

  He let out a jagged breath. Damn her. She could easily, way too easily draw him into her twisted psyche and unhappy life. “Except for me. Because we’re what now, Joelle? What is it you think we are?”

  “Does it matter? You’ll give me a ride home because I asked. And because you’re the only one I can ask.”

  “Fine.” Nick emitted a long, weary sigh. Joelle was definitely trouble. She would be nothing, but confusion, stress and heartache. All of which he didn’t need, want or deserve. And yet, she looked so weary, so tired, and so alone. So in need of him. And she was right: he was the only one she could ask, and know he’d never turn her down. What that meant he had yet to learn.

  Chapter Nine

  “Do you want to come in?” Joelle asked when they arrived at her house.

  Nick glanced over at her, his eyebrows raised. He’d just pulled his car to the curb and his mouth tightened. He didn’t want to come in; but he would. That’s the kind of man he was. She licked her lips and attempted a smile. “Come on, I won’t take offense at your reaction. The house has gone beyond disgusting to near hazardous.”

  “How do you stand it if you hate it so much?”

  “I’m not here very much anymore. That helps. I spend a lot of time in our room, which is not like the rest of it.”

  “Do you ever get tired of hiding from your own house?” Nick muttered as he ope
ned his car door and got out.

  “Yes,” she whispered, but he was already out of his car and didn’t hear her.

  The front doorknob was busted, and no key was even needed. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could already be in there. Nick sighed as he shook his head. He would do more than just sigh when he beheld the conditions under which she lived. She moved down the hallway, clicking the lights to the living room and kitchen on as she went. Sensing Nick’s presence, with a nearly physical awareness in her skin, almost as if he were touching her, Joelle had to turn around to make sure he wasn’t. He did nothing more than stand there politely, quietly, looking around. He was silent for several long moments as he observed the sheer volume of neglect and disarray he saw in the house she called home. His gaze finally landed on her, long and searching. She raised her eyes to meet his.

  “How old are you Joelle? Twenty-four?”

  “Twenty-three. Why?”

  “That young? Funny, but you seem too old for this, or too young, I’m not sure which.”

  She didn’t know what he meant. He was looking at the table covered in junk food, empty beer bottles, and full ashtrays.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  His eyes returned to her face, as he waved his hand towards the room. “You could be experiencing these years as fun, having the time of your life, being carefree, with no responsibilities. Drinking, drugs, whatever you want. But you don’t, do you, Joelle? You work your ass off to keep your head slightly above water. You live like this because you have no choice, not because you want to. You seem too old for this because you expect more from your life, but too young because you’re so naive and fail to see what’s plain to anyone else.”

  “Which is what?”

  “That you’re not meant for this.”

  Her head jerked back at his words. His voice was intense, serious, but his tone was gentle and soft, as if to buffer the effect of his harsh observations.

  “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be married to Rob.”

  He sighed, putting his hands in his pockets as he turned away from her. She couldn’t see his facial expression. “No, it doesn’t mean that.”

  After a moment, she asked, “How old are you, Nick? Thirty?”

  “Five. Thirty-five.”

  She started at hearing that. They were twelve years apart? She never realized he was quite that old. Mid-thirties. She studied his back for a moment. He looked it: responsible, powerful, confident and intimidating. Even his damn gaze looked strong and sure, and his tone always commanding.

  “Rob’s twenty-seven years old this year. That’s why not having found success by now is so hard for him. He’s been at this a long time. A decade longer than I have. And so you see–”

  Nick spun around. “What? What do I see? Why he feels the need to drink so much that he makes you go to secret Al-Anon meetings? Why his feelings of frustration make that okay? Never mind that you’re drowning in his lifestyle?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. I’ve only had a tough time recently.”

  “That’s your problem. Enabling him. Living in denial and not admitting the truth.”

  “Which is what? What truth do you think you know about me?”

  “Hanging around, waiting for Rob to make it isn’t enough for you anymore. Your husband is perfectly capable of working a regular paying job, while trying to make the band famous. He doesn’t have to keep living off you like this if it’s so hard on you.”

  “But he likes it.”

  “Of course he does. That’s why it works so well, right? He’s perfectly happy, creating his songs and music, all the while living the lifestyle he chooses. He leaves you to do all the boring stuff, like work and stress, and paying the bills. You deserve more.”

  “I will as soon as–”

  “As soon as Rob makes it. I heard that. But please, explain to me why he can’t do a little more for you now?”

  She dropped her eyes to avoid his angry, narrowed gaze. “Quit pressing this. You don’t understand me. Us. Our lives. Just please stop.” She turned away, leaning her hands on the counter, and gripping it to steady herself.

  Nick verbalized some of the things she often thought. But she would betray her husband if she were to admit them to Nick. However, the sympathy Nick felt for her, and the way he so clearly saw her, and her situation, was as refreshing as a cool breeze in the desert. Rob merely shrugged off her exhaustion with a hug, as if that would make it all better. Lately, it didn’t help at all anymore.

  “Why do you care?” she whispered. “Why do you care if I’m happy or not? What do you want from me?”

  Nick sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing. I don’t want anything from you. But you don’t seem to understand that. Just here… take this.”

  She took the business card he held for her, and their fingertips brushed. It vibrated from her fingers, to her hand, up her arm and into a hot mass of nerves in her guts. She withdrew quickly as if he’d just shocked her. What the hell was that? He simply dropped his hand, seemingly unaffected by their touch.

  She swallowed in confusion, and finally glanced at the card.

  “It’s directions to my penthouse, from the office. If you ever need a place to go. If you’re ever in trouble, go there. Anytime. Night or day.”

  “Trouble?” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not in any kind of trouble.”

  “I said in case. Just keep it. No harm comes from having a backup plan.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

  “I know you don’t. But I see a situation here that could easily escalate to places you don’t want it to, lots of guys, lots of drugs and alcohol. And you want it all to slow down, if not stop altogether.”

  “What are you saying? Rob would never do anything to hurt me.”

  He nodded. “Good. That’s really good to know.”

  “You don’t sound even remotely convinced.”

  “I’m not. You are. I just want to make sure you know where to find help if you ever need it.”

  “I’m not one of your sisters; you needn’t worry about me.”

  He snorted. “No, I needn’t. But I do.”

  “Is that what you think of me? As some kind of little sister?”

  He paused and waited, before finally nodding. “Yeah, something like that.”

  Joelle sagged with relief. That was okay, wasn’t it? If Nick thought of her like his little sister, then she wasn’t doing anything wrong. She and Nick weren’t even friends. They were more like family friends or something. Who could object to that? She slipped Nick’s card into her pocket as a concession to him. Fine. She’d take his unsolicited concern as it was intended.

  Just then, they were interrupted by the sound of voices and footsteps. The front door slammed open and the house suddenly flooded with people, streaming into the hall, the kitchen, the dining room, and jammed right in the middle of the crowd was Rob. Joelle was startled. She did not expect them to come back here, much less, with half the crowd from the club in tow. It wasn’t long before loud music was slamming through the house. Joelle was pushed right into Nick. His arms went under hers to steady her, and catch her. They stared at each other, and her eyes widened in shock. His face was mere inches from hers, and his gaze was riveted on her.

  As she stared at him, only a breath away, she straightened her legs, and pulled her arms from his hands. He leaned down to speak into her ear, and his breath was warm on the side of her face. She shivered at the barely-there contact. “You going to get in trouble because I’m here?”

  “Rob knew you were driving me home.”

  Nick gave her a look. Did he think that she lied to Rob about him? That would mean Nick was something more than he was, or something threatening to Rob, which he wasn’t. She was firm on that. Rob found her. His arm came around her, and his posture was sloppy, as he leaned on her, nearly fondling her small breast through her top. Nick’s gaze was on them, especially on Rob’s hand. She wished Rob would stop and stand up to sh
ake hands with Nick. She wished Rob would stop acting like a drunken eighteen-year-old, trying to cop a feel. But Rob was drunk and acting just like a juvenile.

  “I thought you were going out. Why did this all end up here?”

  “Nowhere elsh to party, baby. Why not here?”

  “Yeah, of course,” Joelle mumbled, then added louder, “Rob, you remember Nick. He gave me a ride home.”

  “Yeah, sure. That your car out there? It’sh shomething,” he slurred.

  “Thanks. I was just leaving.”

  “Yeah, man, shee ya.”

  Rob turned back to Joelle, kissing her, before sauntering off. Nick turned away. Somehow, Nick witnessing more of her chaotic life wasn’t how she wanted the night to end. He was already heading out the front door. She pushed through people, all of them strangers, to get to him. She was almost frantic to reach the yard before Nick pulled away.

  “Nick, wait,” she yelled.

  He stopped and looked back at her. “What?”

  She was startled by the vehemence of her voice. She stopped at once. Why did she yell so frantically after him? Her heart was beating fast. She didn’t want Nick to leave. She didn’t want Nick to pull away, and leave her there. In this house. At this party. In this life.

  But she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t say any of that. So instead, she smiled weakly, and said, “I wanted you to know I appreciate it. Your concern. But I’m okay. Really.”

  He stared at her across the weed-filled lawn, and glanced at the house, pulsating behind her. He looked up and down the street, and then sighed. “If you’re so okay, do yourself a favor and start acting like it.”

  He turned and went to his car in several long strides. He looked at her again, his gaze dark, angry. What was that expression he gave her? Why should he be angry with her? Then his car engine purred and he pulled away. What did she do to make Nick get so annoyed at her? And why did her heart drop when she saw his taillights disappearing around the corner? Why did she suddenly feel bereft, and all alone? How could the disappearance of Nick’s car make her feel more alone than she could remember ever feeling? She slowly turned, her hands in her pockets, her head down and trudged back into her house.