The Last Rule of Makeups (Breakup Bash)

by Nina Crespo

  Paper hats and horns was definitely all Liam. He had a goofy side. And as far as Twister, he probably would have talked everyone in the VIP section into participating. Liam’s ability to prompt people to join in had been one of his strengths as a DJ.

  “That sounds great. I wish I could make it.”

  “Won’t you be back by then?”

  “Sorry. No.”

  “We’d really hoped you would be.” Disappointment tinged Sofia’s tone.

  He wasn’t in a hurry to go back. His neighbor was good with grabbing his mail, and he had a cleaning service coming in once every other week. Damien had also said he could stay with him for as long as he needed to. And it wasn’t like he had to work. Once the trust fund check was deposited, he’d be more than just good financially.

  Eventually, of course, he’d have to leave. His father had said he’d reach out to him soon, and when it came to time frames with his father, that could be anywhere from the next day to three weeks. But this weekend with Cori had been really good for them, and he wanted to keep building on that for as long as he could.

  “I’m still handling some things out here. I can’t get away right now.”

  “Okay, I understand, but I did have another question. I have Liam’s laptop. There’s music he created on it. I was thinking we could do something with it. Fallon could use the money. I don’t feel comfortable handing it over to anyone else to hear, and I don’t want to put it out if it’s not good enough. I’d really appreciate your opinion. I know Liam trusted you.”

  Her final three words hit him like a subtle blow to the gut—not a full-blown punch but still effective. But if he could help Liam’s sister, he couldn’t ignore that. “If you send it to me, I’ll listen to what he put together and give you my opinion.”

  “Thank you, I really appreciate it.” As they ended the call, Sofia promised to send everything within the hour.

  Grey stared at the television, but he wasn’t keeping up with the film. Minutes ticked by in his internal clock. When it felt as if at least sixty of them had gone by, he got up and went to Damien’s studio for his laptop sitting on the high counter that was loaded strictly with music and associated DJ apps.

  Grey took a deep breath and sorted through the downloaded files Sofia had sent.

  There were a few videos, too. From the names on them, they were of some of Liam’s performances.

  Curious, he selected one and clicked play.

  An image of Liam standing behind the DJ deck filled the screen. It was of one of his earlier sets at Breakers, and Grey remembered it.

  In the video, a twenty-one-year-old Liam had headphones wrapped around his neck. The sweat soaking through Liam’s yellow T-shirt gave away his nervousness, but his presence in the video as he stood in the DJ booth was the right mix of high and laid-back energy. The loops he was dropping in made the crowd go wild. Then he made a slight bobble in the beat match as he laid one track over another, but no one in the audience cared.

  Their roaring cheers reverberated through the speakers on Liam’s laptop.

  In the video, Liam glanced over at whoever was filming him and gave a fuck-yeah grin. He knew he’d owned the place.

  As Grey continued to watch the video, the heaviness of loss intertwined with the echo of pride he’d felt for Liam in that moment, knowing that an even brighter future was ahead for his friend. But now, all that was left of Liam’s talent was in the files Sofia had sent him.

  Grey opened up more files and listened. Soon he was caught up in the music. The buzz from caffeine-laden energy drinks and the natural excitement created by what he was listening to kept him awake as he moved through Liam’s original beats, and mixes, as well as sampled music that Liam had probably planned on using in his sets.

  Soon, alertness began to wear off. Grey was about to call it a night, or more accurately, a morning, and get some sleep, when he played something that had him sitting up straighter in his seat. The other original mixes Liam had created had been pretty good, but this one…

  The dance beat was a smooth blending of sounds and transitions. One section of the music dropped in the classical sound of piano, flute, then horns that ramped into a Latin steel drum beat. It was not just good—it was fucking good.

  “Who’s is that?” Damien walked up next to him.

  Grey hadn’t even noticed him come in. “It’s one of Liam’s original DJ mixes.”

  Damien looked over the cans of energy drinks on the table. “You been here all night?”

  Grey rubbed his gritty eyes. “Pretty much. Sofia was cleaning out Liam’s apartment and found his laptop. She asked me to sort through the music he had on it to see if there was anything that could be uploaded to a distribution platform. Liam’s sister, Fallon, could use the cash.” He sat back in the chair as the seven-minute track faded. “Aside from a few original beats that could be monetized on Beatport, he also has original mixes. But this one is the best. It should be out there.”

  “You thinking Apple and Spotify?”

  “Yeah or streamlining the process through something like Proton.”

  Damien nodded. “That’s what I would use.”

  Whichever one was used, the sound quality would have to be adjusted, the mixes manually cut into songs and set up for gapless playback, among other things. Essentially, he’d be producing an album—something he didn’t have time to do since he was supposed to start his new job.

  “Do you have time to do it?” Grey asked Damien.

  “No. But I’m not the one who should be producing Liam’s music. You are. I’ll help you get it done, but you’ll have to take the lead. Liam trusted you.” Damien gripped his shoulder. “We’re talking about his legacy, and you were one of the first people who encouraged him. I don’t see how you can pass this on to me or anyone else.”

  “Maybe.” No longer able to keep his eyes open, Grey shut off his laptop. “I need some sleep.”

  Grey crawled into bed, but even exhausted, his mind kept going. He’d figure out a way to produce and distribute Liam’s music to help Fallon. But celebrating Liam’s birthday reminiscing about him and eating cake…he just couldn’t.

  Chapter Twenty

  Cori rode the elevator, her heart beating faster as it rose higher, bringing her closer to Grey. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since the end of their long weekend. The plan hadn’t been for them to see each other so soon, but after talking to him briefly that afternoon, she’d had to come.

  He’d mentioned something about a birthday party being thrown for Liam in Austin and music on Liam’s laptop. Grey had sounded as if he’d really had a lot on his mind, and she had promised him that she’d be there to listen. And she’d really wanted to see him. She’d purposely not gone home to change out of the tan and white wrap dress and nude pumps she’d worn to work. If she had, the temptation to pack an overnight bag, just in case, would have easily gotten the best of her. But a casual relationship meant not crowding into each other’s spaces every day, so she wasn’t spending the night.

  She stopped at the door on the left near the end of the hall and knocked.

  Grey opened the door. What he did for a simple white T-shirt and loose black athletic shorts really should have come with a sexual content warning. “You’re early.”

  “I got a jump on traffic.”

  She walked into the condo. As soon as he shut the door, Grey took her by the waist and brought her up against him. From the way he captured her mouth, he’d missed her as much as she’d missed him.

  He eased out of the kiss. “How was your day?”

  “Good, but it’s even better now.”

  “Mine is, too.” His smile didn’t completely erase the fatigue in his eyes.

  “You look tired.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, I was up early listening to the rest of Liam’s music.”

  “You mentioned
something about distributing it. Are you doing this for his birthday?”

  A strange look came over his face as he led her toward the sectional. He sat on the arm, putting them at eye level with each other. “No, but that’s actually not a bad idea.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Holding her by the waist, he pulled her between his legs. “Yesterday, Liam’s girlfriend, Sofia, sent me the music she’d found on Liam’s laptop. Some of them are original DJ mixes that could be distributed through subscription download sites. Liam’s sister could make a little money off of it. But what you just said about his birthday could really launch some downloads.”

  Usually when he mentioned Liam’s name, sadness shadowed his face. But now a restless energy emanated from him. It reminded her of the old Grey. In the past, it meant he was on the cusp of executing something great but hadn’t figured it all out yet.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “One of the ways a DJ markets his original music is by playing it and getting other DJs to sample the music in their sets. Liam isn’t here to play his own music, but I’m wondering if the party at Breakers could be a little more organized than planned, with different featured DJs incorporating Liam’s original music into their sets during the party.” His gaze became faraway, as if he was imagining it. “We could even play his videos on the big screens in the club.”

  She could see where he was going with the idea in her mind, too. “It would almost seem as if he’s there to play his own music.”

  “Exactly.” As his gaze focused back on her face, the excitement faded. “But it might be too late. His birthday is two weeks away. I don’t know if Sofia can work with the club to organize an event like this in time. And then there’s getting the music ready.”

  “Sofia might be able to do it if you helped her.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve pretty much committed to Latham Reeves. I need to be ready when they are ready for me to start. And trying to produce music by that time would be a push.”

  It would also be closure. If Grey helped with what would essentially be a memorial for Liam, it could help him move on and take a step closer to forgiving himself. But using words like closure and moving on in relation to Grey getting over Liam’s death might shut Grey down, along with his ideas. But if he was doing it for someone else, that would encourage him.

  She searched for the right words. “The fact that Sofia and a few friends want to celebrate Liam’s birthday sounds like they’re looking for closure. It could really help them. And it would help people remember one of the best parts of Liam. It could be a nice memorial event celebrating his abilities as a DJ and his music. And you mentioned Liam’s sister—think of the money this could make for her. Maybe the club would be willing to give her a percentage of what’s brought in at the door.”

  Grey suddenly leaned in and gave her a deep, long kiss that had her grasping his shoulders for support. Finally, he broke away. “You’re a genius.”

  His grin was infectious. “You’re just noticing that?”

  “Yeah, I should have noticed sooner.”

  “So, you’ll do it?”

  “I’ll call Sofia, and if she thinks it’s a good idea, I’ll approach the management at Breakers.” His expression sobered. “This means I’ll have to go back to Austin this weekend. I know you can’t come with me now, but do you think you could be there for the event if it happens? It’s on a Wednesday.” Grey said the date.

  Cori ran it through her mental calendar. The disappointment she felt must have shown on her face.

  He gave her waist a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. I knew it would be a long shot.”

  “I really wish I could be there, but two of the angel investors are coming by the office that Thursday.”

  He slid his hands to her back. “Just knowing you support me means a lot. And you’ll be here when I come back. Right?”

  The hopefulness in his eyes combined with the happiness growing inside of her sparked some apprehension. Having a casual thing meant not making promises for the future. But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. He needed her.

  Cori wrapped her arms around Grey’s neck and held him tight. “Yes. I’ll be here.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cori pumped her legs and moved her arms even faster on the elliptical machine at the fitness center near her subdivision. The dance music Grey had recently sent her played through her cordless earbuds.

  Other members, many of them also there to get in a workout after a day on the job, occupied the machines lined up on either side of her.

  Her thigh muscles burned from exertion under her blue leggings. Her cropped white tee wicked away sweat as she pushed harder, matching her rhythm to the catchy beat.

  She hadn’t had a workout in weeks, but with Grey in Austin, she’d needed the distraction. She missed him so much. But workouts with him in North Carolina at the beach had been a lot more fun.

  “Come on, Cori. Keep going. We’re almost there. You can do it.”

  That’s what he’d told her when they’d gone running on the beach. He’d encouraged her, and she’d done it. Sometimes, she’d gone even further with him running beside her, pushing her on.

  The machine beeped, signaling the end of the aerobic program, and Cori climbed off the elliptical, grateful the workout was over. She repositioned the zippered arm band near her shoulder that held her phone and essentials then snagged the small towel she’d left on the shelf underneath the TV attached to the machine.

  The playlist had really kept her going. She would have to tell him that the next time they talked. But when that would be was uncertain. Since Grey had arrived in Austin that past weekend, he’d been busy.

  When they’d talked yesterday, he’d been on his way to a meeting and had sounded understandably stressed, considering the event for Liam was just over a week away. He’d also agreed to be one of the DJs in the lineup for what was now being called a life celebration for Liam. Even more surprising, he’d mentioned that he was going to perform a completely prerecorded set.

  Grey considered the ability to mix music live and match the mood of the crowd an art form. He’d never criticized what other DJs chose to do in their sets, but for Grey, in his heart and soul, he wasn’t a “press play” DJ.

  Her Apple Watch beeped with a call. Her heart leaped, but it wasn’t Grey. It was Nat. She hadn’t talked to her friend since she’d stolen her whipped cream. Just a few check-in texts. Same with Alexa. All three of them hadn’t been in one room since the party at Club Escapade. It almost felt as if the three of them were avoiding getting together—maybe so they didn’t have to face the thought of Alexa moving away.

  As her earbuds rang in the call, Cori walked out of the main workout space and into the hall just outside the juice and smoothie bar.

  Cori tapped the face of the watch and answered. “Sorry, I’m all out of whipped cream. You’ll have to buy your own.”

  “Something’s wrong with Alexa.”

  The urgency in Nat’s voice prompted Cori to hurry to the front exit. From the background noises on Nat’s end, her cell was linked to her car system. But what was that wailing noise? “Where’s Alexa? What happened to her?”

  “I have no idea what happened. That’s why I’m calling you. I just found her at the grocery store wandering around buying boxed wine.”

  Boxed wine? No, that couldn’t be what Nat said. Alexa wouldn’t touch the stuff. Corked always. Twist top, in a pinch. But boxed? Never.

  “I think you’re breaking up.” Cori dug her car key out of her arm band. “You said something about wine in a box?”

  “Yeah, you heard me right. Boxed. Wine.”

  The wailing grew louder. Was that Nat’s dog Betsy? But that didn’t sound like whining or barking. It was more like a yowl or a screech. “What’s that noise? Do you have a wounded cat or something in
the car?”

  “No, Cori.” Nat’s tone held pure exasperation. “I’m not driving around with a damn wounded cat. That’s Alexa.”

  Oh shit. Cori ran to her car. If Alexa sounded like that, something really terrible had happened. What was going on?

  …

  A half hour later, in the living room at Nat’s house, Cori passed out glasses of wine to Alexa and Nat, who sat on an emerald couch. Holding her own glass, she perched on the wood topped ottoman that doubled as a coffee table, ready to listen to Alexa.

  Nat, usually the unflappable one, had skipped getting comfortable, remaining in the rose and beige dress she’d worn to work. Concern for Alexa creased her forehead and showed in her eyes.

  Alexa hugged a turquoise pillow to her chest. Dressed in a navy T-shirt and jeans, with her tousled long hair and tear-stained face, she looked like a broken-hearted teenager. She’d been ready for a day of uneventful packing, but Dickhead Brad had struck again, coming between her and Rafe in a way that seemed unrepairable.

  Brad thought he was so smooth. His lying ass needed to be covered in honey and staked on an ant hill. And Rafe, she needed to find the guy and knock some sense into him. How could he not see that Alexa wanted him, not Brad?

  Unfortunately, Alexa and Rafe hadn’t known each other for very long, and that had made it easy for Brad to manipulate the truth, leading Rafe to come to all the wrong conclusions.

  If Kevin had tried to do the same thing with Grey, the result wouldn’t have been the same. Grey would have seen right past the bullshit. Even six years later, they truly knew each other. She and Grey had a connection, and they cared about each other…like a real couple.

  The truth hit Cori, smacking against the armor she’d stuck her heart into for protection and riveted shut with a six-month promise. Soft emotions she couldn’t stop leaked out from a widening crack and flowed into recollections from the past few weeks of being with Grey.