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No One to Hold

Page 22

by Arell Rivers

“Fucking rocking. Been all over the States and Canada. Some of those women up north are freaks.” He elbows me in the ribs to make his point.

  “Yeah, well those days are over for me, dude.” I wave Rose over. “I want you to meet my girlfriend, Rose Morgan.”

  Rose extends her hand. “So nice to finally meet you, Ozzy.”

  Ozzy takes her hand to his lips instead of shaking it. “Well, aren’t you a delicate flower, Rose. You must have some special pollen to tame Manchester here.”

  Frowning, I yank her hand out of Ozzy’s hand and interlace our fingers. “Keep your pollination metaphors to yourself, Martinez,” I mutter, earning a guffaw from my erstwhile friend.

  For her part, Rose smiles at the oversized oaf and responds, “I’m not as delicate as I look.” I squeeze her hand.

  “I bet you’re not since you’re with this guy.” He nods toward me. “Come on, beautiful, what does he have that I don’t? What will it take for me to pluck you away from him?”

  “I’m standing right here, douchebag.”

  Smiling, Rose replies, “Come now, Ozzy, we’ve only just met. But I’ve heard a lot of stories from Cole about you, and I’m not sure I’m your type at all.”

  He winks at me, then turns his attention back to Rose. “Why don’t you give me a chance to prove you wrong? I’m sure Manchester hasn’t painted me in the best light.”

  “Oh, he’s given me a pretty complete picture. You’re quite the hell raiser, aren’t you?” While she’s speaking, Rose points to the tattoos that form a sleeve on his left arm. His nipple piercing is evident through his shirt.

  “Don’t let the tats scare you away, Flower. I’m really a pussycat.”

  It’s my turn to chortle. “Believe me, you don’t want to be anywhere near this tomcat, Ro.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder as the three of us walk amiably to the pool area, where all of our other friends now are gathered.

  “Tell me Martinez, how long is your break, or is your tour over?”

  “I’m off to Vegas for a couple of shows soon, but I’ll be back in LA for a while afterward.”

  “Cool. I’m glad you’ll be around,” I say, patting his back.

  All of a sudden, Emma lets out a loud wail, and all eyes turn to her. I walk over to Suzanne, who’s comforting her in her arms. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes. Sorry for the disruption. She bumped her head on the table,” Suzanne says, bouncing the baby.

  “She gets into all sorts of things,” Dan chimes in.

  I reach out and rub her forehead, feeling a lump beginning to form. “Poor Emma.” In response to my touch, Emma’s cries become louder so I yank my hand away.

  “Let me get my guitar. Maybe a song will soothe her.”

  “Please, Cole,” Suzanne says. “You’ll be a lifesaver.”

  I sprint into the house to grab my guitar. When I return to the patio, Emma’s still screeching. Boy, that girl has a set of lungs.

  Clearing my throat, I say loudly, “This is going to be my newest single, scheduled to drop in September. It’s called ‘No One to Hold.’ I wrote it for Mom.”

  I take a deep breath and play the first chords. About a third of the way into the song, Emma stops crying. By the end, she’s smiling at me as if nothing ever happened. She even claps with all my other friends at the end.

  “Thanks guys. I’m glad you all like it. And now I’d like to show you the mock-up of the album cover.”

  I’ve kept this a secret, even from Rose, which has been quite the feat considering she’s pestered me about it for the past few weeks. I’m proud of the cover art, which I had a hand in designing. I pass around copies of the cover to Moving Forward Slowly, arriving at Rose last.

  With a big grin, I make a big show of handing the final copy to her. She grabs it and looks it over carefully. “Wow. I like it; it’s different.”

  I puff up with her compliment. Everyone else is echoing her sentiments, but Rose’s words settle deep within my heart. So far, so good for this album.

  A while later, Ozzy joins me at the food table. “Manchester, that’s going to be a huge hit for you. I wish I had met your mom.”

  He selects a steak and puts it on his plate. Looks good. I do the same.

  “She would have loved you.” I pause. “She always had a thing for the weird ones.” I add some lobster mac and cheese to my plate.

  Popping a deviled egg in his mouth, he continues, “I have an idea.” I quirk an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t you debut your song during one of my Las Vegas concerts?”

  “Really?”

  “Why not? Plus, it’ll be a good excuse to hang with you in Vegas, baby,” he says with a wink, bypassing the salads in favor of a heaping mound of grilled asparagus.

  Scooping up an impressive mushroom risotto, I reply, “That could work. It could be sort of an underground thing. You know, advertised yet not.”

  “Let’s pitch it to Platinum.”

  We share a label, so this might actually work out. “I’ll discuss the publicity angle with Rose.”

  He nods. “I’ll let my publicist know once everything is all squared away. By the way, bro, I think Rose is a cool chick. She’s good for you. Never thought I’d see the day.”

  My gaze wanders to Rose, who sits over by the pool on the chaise lounge that we christened right before the party, chatting with Jessie and Amanda. “Me neither. But she means the world to me. It sucks that we can’t be out in public.”

  “I could escort her places for you.”

  “No way, Martinez. Keep your grubby hands off.”

  “Jeez. I was just trying to be helpful.”

  Laughing, we take our full plates and walk over to join the others, I scoot in behind Rose. “Feel familiar, Ro?” I whisper in her ear.

  She turns a nice shade of pink, which earns me a stern “Cole” from Jessie. I shoot her my best innocent look.

  “So, have you found a new roommate?” Amanda asks Rose, diverting my attention from Jessie.

  This has been a bone of contention between Rose and me over the past few weeks. I want her to give up that rental. Damn stubborn woman has refused. Her lease isn’t up until March and she says she doesn’t want to break it. She’s been interviewing potential roommates, but none have been approved by Kates’s team.

  “Not yet.”

  “I don’t know why you don’t just break the lease,” I grumble.

  Rose continues, “I don’t want to cause any trouble for my landlord.” She gives me a look that clearly conveys her feelings on the matter. I return her look. I have my own thoughts about it. “Besides, with the new alarm system Cole had installed, it’s perfectly safe.”

  “Any news on the robbery front?”

  “Nothing concrete yet, Jessie. My stolen items haven’t surfaced. There was another break-in a couple of blocks away, but thankfully no one was hurt.”

  “At least that’s something. And have you had any more run-ins with your stalker?”

  I clear my throat. “Rose got an email at work a week ago, which our PI and the LAPD is looking into.”

  “Wow, Rose. What did the email say, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Dan already knows all about this, but it’s news to the rest of our guests. I trust them to keep the information private, so I give Rose a nod to let her know it’s okay to share.

  I pull her into my embrace to offer her my support. She responds, “It’s fine, Jessie. I know I don’t need to say this, but please don’t tell anyone outside this group about the stalker.” All my friends nod their heads nod in assent, as I knew they would.

  “Thanks.” Rose looks around and says, “Suzanne, cover Emma’s ears.” I can’t help but smile when Suzanne does just that. It’s no laughing matter, of course, but it feels good to smile in the face of this ongoing disaster.

  Rose continues, “The email said, ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to prove with this Emilie shit, but back off my man. Get the fuck out of his house. This is my last warning, slut.’”
r />   “C’MON EM, LET me show you to your room.” I lead her toward one of the guest rooms in my penthouse.

  “Thanks again, Cole. I really appreciate your invitation to stay at your place during New York Fashion Week.”

  “Not a problem. I needed to come out here anyway to visit my dad and get some photos for my upcoming video.” I show her to the room and adjoining bathroom, pointing out the great view of Central Park.

  In her cute French accent, she exclaims, “This city is one of my favorites. I love the skyscrapers and this big park. It is always so full of life.” Emilie gives me a true, happy smile as opposed to the practiced ones she uses for modeling.

  “What’s your schedule like?”

  “This week is filled with fittings and practices. I am modeling for many designers, and I have already done the preliminaries. My first show is Thursday, and then I will have a show every day through next week.”

  “So, not busy at all, huh?” I ask with a wink.

  “It is nice to be in one place for two straight weeks, but I will not have too much free time. Once the shows get underway, I will be working from seven in the morning until eleven at night.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make this easier for you. How about I have the kitchen stocked with your favorite foods?”

  “Oh, that would be wonderful, Cole. When it gets really crazy, I do not even have time to eat.”

  “We can’t have that, Em. Give me a list and I’ll make sure you have all your favorites.”

  “Merci. If you do not mind, monsieur, I am very tired and would like to nap. We are still going out for dinner later, no?”

  “Yes,” I can’t help sighing. “We’re all set for dinner at Le Bistro. Afterward, we’ll meet up with your friends at Twist.”

  “I have been to that nightclub before. It is fun.”

  “I’m sure you’ll like the restaurant. It’s a French bistro.”

  Emilie’s whole face lights up. “Tonight sounds nice. Thank you for picking a French restaurant.”

  “No problem.” As usual, Rose’s ideas are well received. “I’m going to take a nap, too.” We both head to our respective bedrooms to unwind after the transcontinental flight.

  As soon as I’m alone, I grab my cell and call Rose. She picks up on the second ring. “Hi, Cole.”

  The sound of her voice makes me smile and my cock twitch. “Hi, Ro. I wanted to let you know we made it into my penthouse and I’m already missing you like crazy.”

  “I saw you less than eight hours ago, Tarzan. I seem to remember your making me scream.” I hear her giggle.

  “I wish you were here with me. I would be making you scream all over again.”

  “I’m sure. I’ll be seeing you in a couple of days.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not going to be staying with me. You should be here with me.”

  “It would be kind of difficult explaining that to your model girlfriend.” She pauses. “Besides, I haven’t seen Mom in ages. She’s only thirty minutes from your dad’s place, so we’ll meet up there on Wednesday.”

  I growl in frustration. “How about we sneak away for one night in New York?” The Big Apple is the perfect place for us to have a romantic weekend. After all, we both went to college here. And had our first, first time here. I’ll make a reservation at the Gramercy Park Hotel—I’ve heard it’s very romantic. During our room service dinner, I can finally tell her that I’m head over heels in love with her. And then I can show her all night. Yeah, I like this idea.

  Rose’s voice brings me back to the present. “Our schedules are pretty tight. Let’s play it by ear, okay?”

  At least it’s not a definitive “no.” I’ll work on her at Dad’s.

  Rose continues, “Are you all set for tonight? The New York paparazzi already know you’re in town because the photos of you and Emilie at JFK are making the rounds. Well done, by the way. You look like her big boyfriend protector in the pictures.”

  “I’m sure Wills would love to have that title.” My bodyguard seems more than a little smitten with the French model. “To answer your question, yes, I got your email with all the details for this evening. Em is excited to go to the French bistro, so nice touch.”

  “Thanks. I thought she might be missing her home.”

  “Well, now that you’ve got my fake girlfriend all hooked up here in New York, what are you going to do about me? I’m missing my home. Especially my bed with a certain flower-birthmarked babe in it.”

  I hear her low moan softly through the phone and my cock jumps to attention. “I would love to help you out,” she whispers, “but I’m at the office.”

  “You’re killing me here, Ro.”

  “Oh crap. I gotta go, Greta’s motioning for me to go into her office.

  “Gruesome has shitty timing.”

  “Well, I am at work. Text me before you head out to dinner, okay?”

  “Sure thing. Remember to stick with Roberto.” I hate that I’m not there to protect her, but our guards have given us no reason to doubt them.

  “Will do. Bye!”

  With thoughts of Rose dancing in my head, I give in to sleep.

  I’m pulled out of my sensual dream about Rose and her birthmark by a banging sound. “Cole, are you almost ready? Dinner is at eight.”

  What? Huh? The noise ends and I turn over. Rose takes off her bikini bottoms by the pool at my house and dances around naked in the moonlight for me. Her perky boobs bounce near my face, but when I reach out to grab one, she dances away to music only she can hear. She shakes her luscious ass at me.

  “Cole, can you please zip me up? I cannot quite reach.” Rose is smiling at me over her shoulder, her tongue licking her lips. “Cole? Can I come in?”

  The sound of a door opening brings me fully awake to see Emilie standing at the threshold. “Cole? You are not up?”

  Disoriented, I glance at the clock and see it’s already almost eight. My eyes travel southward, to the evidence that the proper response to her question is most assuredly yes. I’m up. Shit. I fluff the comforter at my waist.

  Shaking my head to clear the cobwebs, I clear my throat and say, “Sorry, Em. I forgot to set my clock. I’ll be ready in a few.”

  “It is all right. I thought you were awake when I knocked earlier because you made a sound.” I’ll bet I did. “Would you mind zipping me up in my dress, please? I cannot do it myself.”

  “Sure thing.” I’m halfway out of bed before I realize I’m nude. “Ah, can you come closer, Em?”

  She walks over to my side of the bed, offering me her back while pulling her long hair out of the way. I go to pull up the zipper, but it gets stuck on some material. “Shit, it’s stuck. Give me a sec.”

  I carefully pull it back down and up again, but it snags at the same spot. “Damn, this is messed up. Let me try again.”

  Third time’s a charm, and her dress zips. “Good to go, Em.”

  She turns and gives me a brilliant smile. “Thanks, Cole.” She pauses a beat. “And your girlfriend is a very lucky woman.” She winks and walks toward the door, leaving me alone with the realization that I lost the comforter in the zipper tug-of-war.

  DINNER TURNS OUT to be delightful. I do enjoy Emilie’s company, and the food at Le Bistro is kickass. Maybe Rose will want to eat here; I’ll have to remember to ask her.

  On our way out, I drape my arm around Emilie’s shoulders, remembering Rose’s instructions. Sure enough, we’re greeted by a flock of paparazzi out on the street. Even though it’s well past 10 p.m., the flashbulbs make it seem like it’s broad daylight.

  “Doing okay, Em?” I whisper into her ear.

  She turns and gives me her practiced smile. “Oui. It is as it should be.”

  Following Wills, we make it into our waiting limo, flashbulbs going off like crazy, paps spouting off insulting questions. Soon we’re heading off for the nightclub.

  Shaking my head, I say, “I’ll never get used to this. When I’m on stage and perfo
rming, I get it. But, seriously, we’re just walking out of a restaurant. Is it big news that you and I are human and we actually eat?”

  Emilie laughs, and from the front seat, Wills turns his head. “They are just doing their jobs. Like us.”

  “I guess. So, are you ready to go clubbing?”

  “Oh yes,” Emilie says. “I have fun dancing.” Well, that makes one of us. I only like dancing with Rose these days. Preferably naked and horizontally.

  Once inside Twist, I head to the bar to get our drinks—seltzer with vodka and a twist of lime for Em, a cold beer for me. On my way back to her, a brazen blonde with huge tits walks up to me.

  “Need a hand? I can take that drink off your hands.” She undresses me with her eyes.

  “Thanks, but I got it.”

  “Suit yourself. I’ll be over there in case you change your mind,” she says, nodding in the direction of the back corner. I offer her a tight smile and continue to make my way toward Emilie.

  Someone pinches my ass. Stopping mid-stride, I work hard to maintain both my composure and the drinks. I turn my head and raise my eyebrow at another blonde, who is licking her lips at me. “Ma’am,” I say and resume my beeline for Emilie.

  Finally, she’s about twenty feet ahead. Who knew the walk from the bar to my date would be fraught with so many hazards? Before Ro, I probably would have taken both chicks’ phone numbers, but today I feel neither flattered nor tempted.

  A tall brunette jumps in front of me from my right, barely avoiding an alcohol bath. “Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” Yeah, right.

  “It’s okay darlin’. Nothing spilled.” Em, come over here and save me.

  Brunette giggles. The sound is too harsh, not the right octave at all. She places her hand on my forearm, saying, “Can I help you with that?”

  Really? “I’m here with someone, darlin’.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.”

  While her offer might have intrigued me at a different point in my life, it falls flat now. Still, she’s a fan so I can’t be rude. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m a one-woman man nowadays.” That’s the truth, at least.

  “Lucky girl.”

 

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