Stupid Love: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (The Prescotts Book 1)

by Tara Wyatt

  Theo slowly turned to look at his client, shooting daggers at him with his eyes. Then he smiled at Doug and Tiffany. “Excuse me, I just need a moment alone with my client.” He grabbed Edward’s elbow and practically hauled him out of his chair, marching him out of the conference room and a safe distance down the hallway.

  “Do you have a mistress?” he asked point blank, not pulling any punches.

  Edward at least had the decency to look chagrined. “I didn’t think it was relevant?”

  Theo curled his hands into fists, then shoved them in his pocket. “Goddammit, Ed.” He sighed, trying to get a handle on the frustration bubbling up inside him. “I’m on your side and I want to help you, but you gotta tell me this kind of stuff, man.”

  “Does this hurt our case?” he asked, a slightly panicked look taking over his face.

  “Uh, yeah, just a little,” said Theo, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “She can claim you’re at fault for the divorce because you committed adultery, which increases her chances of a judge awarding her alimony.” He shook his head slowly, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. “Please tell me you haven’t been spending tons of money on this woman.”

  Ed went pale. “Well. Um. Define tons of money.”

  Theo’s eyes scanned the hallway, looking for another garbage can to kick as frustration surged through him. “The judge could interpret spending huge sums of money on your mistress as a reckless use of marital assets, which again, would play massively in Tiffany’s favor when it comes to awarding alimony.”

  “Shit.”

  Theo blew out a long breath and leaned against the wall, facing his client. “The best we can do is come clean and make a fair offer. You’ve lost any ground you had to stand on. If we can mediate a settlement, you’ll be better off than if we end up in court, because I can’t think of a single judge who isn’t going to award Tiffany everything she asks for.”

  Ed frowned, his face going a little red. “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of whiz kid attorney.”

  Theo shook his head, both flattered and annoyed at Ed’s description of him. “I’m good at what I do, but a chef's only as good as his ingredients—what I have to work with can make a big difference. If you’d told me about this from the beginning, I could’ve helped you. And I’ll still try my best, but the cards being what they are, our options are limited.” He squinted at Ed. “Why didn’t you tell me about this weeks ago?”

  Ed slumped against the wall, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I guess I was embarrassed.” He sighed heavily, and even though he was a cheating jerk, Theo couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. It wasn’t sympathy, exactly. Pity, maybe. “I know that Tiff deserves better.”

  “So then what happened?”

  He shrugged and shook his head sadly. “Things started off so great. We were so in love. The sex was fantastic and everything was just so easy.”

  “What changed?” How did a couple go from being so in love that they were willing to pledge their commitment to each other to cheating and bitterness and resentment? He knew it happened—he saw it every damn day at work, had lived it as a kid—but he couldn’t wrap his mind around how things could shift so far from where they’d been. Deep down, Theo wondered if it was because that original love was simply a delusion brought on by sex and the excitement of someone new.

  Ed let out a little snort. “We got married and had kids. Life got busy. The sex dried up. I was immersed in my work and often home late, which made her clingy. She used to be so supportive of my goals, but then it changed and it seemed like our marriage became all about what she wanted, all the time. It didn’t matter what I did or what I gave her—it was never enough. So I pulled away. I know I did, and it was shitty of me. But I did. It used to be so easy between us, and after a decade, I felt like I didn’t even know her. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever loved her in the first place.” He shrugged again. “I guess I wanted to feel wanted again. So when Melissa came along...things were already so bad between me and Tiff that it...shit, it just felt good to have someone look at me like that again.”

  Theo nodded, taking it all in, a heaviness sitting on his chest. If he and Lauren got together for real, like an actual relationship with the possibility of a future and everything that entailed, is this how it would end up? Screaming at each other across a conference room table, full of bitterness and anger and disappointment?

  No. They weren’t going to end up like Ed and Tiffany, and for more than one reason. First, he couldn’t imagine ever feeling anything other than warmth and tenderness toward Lauren, who was sweet and kind and open. She’d been his best friend for a decade now, and nothing was going to change that as far as he was concerned. Second, he had no plans of ever getting married, to Lauren or anyone else, because he’d seen firsthand too many times how marriage changed people, and not usually for the better. He didn’t want that—for himself, or anyone else in his life. Third, he and Lauren weren’t a couple. They were two friends who were testing out some sexual waters, but that was a far cry from ring shopping and house hunting.

  As he and Ed headed back toward the conference room, Theo couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Maybe he and Lauren had cracked the code by keeping labels and commitment out of it. He and Lauren were not Ed and Tiffany, and they never would be.

  “Thank you so much for coming out tonight!” said Lauren into the microphone. She could feel a trickle of sweat making its way down between her breasts, spots from the stage lights still dancing in front of her eyes. “We’re going to play one last song to end the night. You guys have been great!” She nodded to Aiden, who counted them in, and then the band launched into their newly arranged cover of “Don’t You Forget About Me,” complete with banjo and fiddle lines. A fresh wave of energy charged through her as they played through the rollicking song they’d spent the last couple of weeks arranging and polishing. She leaned into the mic, smiling as she sang the lyrics.

  She loved being up on stage, a guitar in her hands, so much. The energy of the crowd, the idea that she was doing something that brought joy to others, the power and beauty of the music moving through her...it was her happy place, totally and completely.

  Although, Theo’s bed was giving the stage a run for its money when it came to her all-time favorite places. As his face flashed through her mind, her eyes scanned the crowd, but she couldn’t see him. The lights were too bright to see beyond the first couple of rows of people, and they’d packed the house tonight. Even though they were just a cover band, Fiddle of Nowhere had a growing fan base and were drawing bigger and bigger crowds at their gigs. They’d evolved from a bar band with banjos to an act people bought tickets to see. She felt proud of how hard she and Aiden and the others had worked to build this, even if it was just a fun side project for her.

  She had to admit, she was feeling a bit stagnant when it came to her own music. Yeah, she was still performing and still writing songs, but ever since the audition for Lynne Townsend, she’d felt as though any momentum she’d had had completely stalled out, and she couldn’t fully pinpoint why. She was used to the rejection, but for some reason, this particular one had really knocked the wind out of her sails. It felt more...more final than the others. Like it was proof that she wasn’t going to make it and that opportunities were drying up.

  A heaviness sat in her stomach, like she’d eaten rocks for dinner instead of the takeout sushi she’d grabbed after work. Maybe it was time to accept that this was all there was. She’d work at the library and play her gigs and that would be her little life. Something that felt like grief flashed through her at the thought, and she did her best to blink it away, focusing on getting through the end of the song before she started doom-spiraling about the state of her dreams.

  A couple of minutes later, the final song of the night ended, the last chord still reverberating through the speakers. Lauren took a bow with her bandmates, letting herself soak up the cheers of the crowd for a moment. Buzzing with energy, she turned
and headed off stage with everyone else, where they all chatted about the show and guzzled cold bottles of water that a thoughtful bartender had set out for them. Once the house lights had come on and the crowd had started to disperse, she set her water aside and set about the ultra-glamorous work of packing up all of their gear. She glanced over at the drum kit that their drummer, Nathan, was currently taking apart and she was glad she only had to worry about a couple of microphones and guitars. They’d load most of their gear into Nathan’s cargo van—a hand-me-down he’d gotten from his uncle that was still emblazoned with a bright red “Ray’s Catering” logo on the side—except for her two guitars, which would come home with her.

  As she worked to unplug the tangle of cords from a nearby amplifier, she heard a familiar voice from just behind her.

  “Hey,” said Theo, sliding his arms around her waist. “Any chance a groupie could get a little action?”

  She laughed and spun in his arms, forgetting all about the cords. “Hey. Did you like the show?”

  “You guys were awesome. I could hear people around me talking about how good you were. It’s too bad the others couldn’t come—they would’ve loved it, too.” More than the compliment, it was the obvious pride in his voice that made her feel like she was glowing from the inside out. He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers. “You were so sexy up there tonight,” he said, his voice taking on that growly tone that always had her insides turning into liquid gold, all warm and bright and melty.

  She curled her fists into the fabric of his white Henley, heat already starting to pulse between her legs. “Help me clean up so we can get out of here,” she said, nuzzling her face into his neck and inhaling his scent. They’d been doing this for over a week now and she was completely addicted to him. She lived in a state of both perpetual soreness and perpetual horniness. It was the most exquisite kind of torture she’d ever experienced.

  “Yes ma’am.” He pulled away with a cute wink and then set about untangling the cords and winding them into perfect loops. She didn’t even know how many times he’d helped her pack up after a gig. Enough times that he knew his way around an amplifier and a snarl of cords. She hummed to herself as she worked, carefully laying her acoustic guitar down into its case and then closing the lid, flipping the latches shut. The energy from the successful show still buzzed through her, and Theo’s touch and words and only amplified it.

  “Lauren, can you come here for a sec?” called Aiden as he poked his head out from backstage, his dark brown curls flopping into his eyes. “We’ve got a bit of an issue.”

  She frowned, rubbing her palms on her thighs. “What’s wrong?”

  Aiden jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s trying to stiff us.”

  The buzz she’d been feeling turned cold, leaving her a little breathless—and not in a fun way.

  “You want me to come with?” asked Theo as he stepped up beside her, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

  She nodded, gratitude chasing away some of her anxiety. She always felt better when she was with him, like everything was just easier when he was around. They headed backstage and followed Aiden to the club owner’s little office, where he sat behind a dinged-up black metal desk going through that night’s receipts.

  “I already paid him,” he said dismissively, waving a beefy hand in Aiden’s direction.

  “No, you paid me $1500 when we agreed that it would be $2000 plus ten percent of ticket sales.”

  Bob, the club owner, shrugged. “I don’t remember that.”

  Lauren swallowed thickly and then pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Really? Because I have the email right here.”

  He smirked. “An email isn’t a contract.”

  Theo took Lauren’s phone, his eyes scanning across the screen. “I mean, it’s not signed, but this is definitely a contract.”

  Bob let out an impatient huff. “Who’s this guy?”

  Theo grinned. “I’m their lawyer. Look, it’s in writing here in the email that the flat fee is $2000 plus ten percent of ticket sales. You’re Bob Haskell, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Theo flipped the phone around to show him the email. “And this is your email address?”

  Bob scowled. “Yeah.”

  “So we’ve established that you entered into a written agreement—also known as a contract—with Fiddle of Nowhere to perform tonight for the agreed upon fee and cut of ticket sales. The name, date, location—everything’s here. So you’ve got three options, Bob. One, you pay the band what you promised and we leave. Two, you don’t and I’ll file papers tomorrow morning to take you to court.”

  Bob’s scowl deepened to the point where his jowls trembled. “And what’s option three?”

  Theo handed Lauren her phone back and stepped forward, bracing his hands on Bob’s desk. “Do you know who Lucian Prescott is?”

  Bob went completely pale, so pale that Lauren thought he might pass out. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Hang on.” He turned and opened a small safe under a table against the far wall. He counted out another wad of bills and shoved it into Aiden’s hands. “I don’t want trouble with Lucian, okay?”

  Theo smiled. “And now you won’t have any.”

  As they turned to leave Bob’s cramped office, she grabbed Theo’s hand and said softly, “I am so turned on right now. I love it when you get all lawyery.”

  He chuckled. “I think he was more intimidated by the mention of Lucian’s name than my legal prowess. But I’m glad I was here to help all the same.”

  Aiden turned, counted out Lauren’s share of the money and then slipped the rest into an envelope to disperse to the rest of the band. “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem. Happy to help.”

  Aiden nodded and turned, off to pay everyone else. The second they were alone, Lauren tugged Theo down for a kiss. “Thank you,” she murmured against his mouth. “For helping. For being here.”

  He slid his arms around her waist. “I didn’t overstep, did I? I just know that you get so stressed out dealing with stuff like that I and I wanted to help.”

  She shook her head. “No, you didn’t overstep. I’m glad you were here.”

  He kissed her forehead, sending warmth cascading through her. She loved these casual, affectionate gestures and how natural they felt. A part of her wanted to ask him if they felt natural to him too, but she didn’t want to push it. Things were so good, and she knew he could see and feel it too. She didn’t need to wreck it by making him feel like she was boxing him in.

  “I’ll always have your back, Lo,” he said, cupping her jaw and tracing his thumb over her cheekbone. “Nothing’s gonna change that.”

  God, she hoped he was right.

  Footsteps echoed across the now nearly empty stage, the sound of heels clicking against the wooden floor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” said a woman’s voice.

  Lauren turned, recognition flooding her and sending her heart vaulting into her throat. “Oh my God, you’re—”

  “Sadie Hopkins,” said the woman, extending her hand with a warm smile. She had a halo of golden curls threaded with gray, an angular face, and a wide smile. Her skin had a sun-kissed look that Lauren was sure came from living in Southern California and not a Manhattan spray tan.

  Trying to keep the tremble out of her voice, she turned to Theo. “She’s Lynne Townsend’s producer.”

  Theo’s eyes went wide. He pointed at his chest and then in the direction of stage left, silently asking her if she wanted him to give her some privacy. She nodded, smiling at him. He gave her hand a squeeze, picked up her two guitars and carried them off for her.

  Sadie smiled warmly. “A man who’ll help you cart your gear around? Now that’s a keeper.”

  Lauren’s stomach twisted itself into a rock hard pretzel as she watched Theo go, knowing that Sadie was completely right—he was a keeper—and that it might not be up to her at all whether or not she kept him. Forcing herself to focus, she cleared her throat a
nd tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, not quite knowing what to do with her hands.

  “Great show tonight,” said Sadie casually, rocking back on her heels. “Do you do all the arrangements yourself?”

  Lauren licked her lips. “Me, and my bandmate Aiden, the one who was singing and playing piano tonight.”

  Sadie nodded. “And did you work together on that arrangement of ‘Don’t You Forget About Me?’”

  Lauren shook her head. “No. That was me.”

  “And what about ‘I Believe in a Thing Called Love?’”

  “Also me.”

  “‘Mr. Brightside?’”

  She bit her lip and shook her head. “That one was Aiden’s.”

  Sadie nodded. “I saw your audition, the one you did for Lynne. For what it’s worth, they should’ve picked you. In my opinion.”

  Lauren felt as though someone had dropped hot coals into her stomach. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. You’re really talented.”

  “Wow, I…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.” Sadie had not only mentored and produced Lynne Townsend but several other mega successful artists Lauren admired.

  “You’re welcome. Listen, I don’t want to keep you,” she said, nodding in the direction Theo had gone, “but I’d love to sit down with you and talk about the future.”

  “Seriously?” Lauren’s voice came out a little squeaky and she cleared her throat again, her pulse hammering away in her temples. “Sorry, I do have a bigger vocabulary. I just can’t believe you’re here and you want to talk to me…this feels surreal.”

  Sadie smiled again and reached into her back pocket, then extended her card to Lauren. “Believe it, babe. I don’t want to put you on the spot right now, so I’ll just give you this. Take a look at your schedule and let me buy you a coffee. I’m in town for the next week.” She pointed at the card. “That’s my cell on there.”