by Francis Ray
“You’re sure?” he asked, holding the guitar by the neck.
“Stop stalling.” She was overjoyed that he loved and played a stringed instrument. It made the connection between them even better. There wasn’t a violin in the shop or she might have been tempted to play for him. She wanted to. Her fingers actually itched to do so. One day. “Give me your best Hendrix imitation.”
Zach tucked the guitar under his arm, strummed a chord, then tightened the strings. His brow lifted. His thick black hair was wind-tossed, and she couldn’t wait to get her fingers in it again. “You certainly know how to put on the pressure.”
“You’re up to it,” she said with complete confidence, folding her arms across her chest.
The high-pitched sound caught her off guard. Her hands slowly came to her sides.
Head bent, Zach hit another chord. If her eyes had been closed she would have sworn it was Jimi Hendrix playing “Purple Haze.” The music changed to the distinctive staccato of flamenco, then again to a favorite tune of her father, “Brick House” by the Commodores. He’d often teased her mother that the song had been written just for her. The thought brought a smile to her face instead of the usual sadness.
When Zach finished, there was complete silence, then loud applause and screams from the women in the shop.
“Magnifico,” said one of the salesclerks, applauding loudly. “Magnifico.”
“Gracias.” Zach handed the grinning man the instrument, pulled a couple of twenties from his wallet, and gave them to the man.
Zach’s gaze flickered around the shop, which had filled with people. If she hadn’t known better, Laurel would have thought he looked uneasy. He grabbed her arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
He moved through the crowd with enviable ease. She didn’t know if he was embarrassed or not. She would have liked to have had him play some more, but she didn’t like the way the women were reaching out to touch him as he passed as if he were some rock star.
“Girl, I tell you he looks like R.D. before he grew that beard. You know he’s my man.”
“Only in your dream, Kita. But if it is him, where’s his posse?”
“He doesn’t need a posse. That’s why they call him Rolling Deep.”
Laurel stopped and jerked around toward the women talking. Their eyes were glued on Zach. Firm pressure on her arm kept her moving. Zach didn’t slow down until they were a couple of blocks away and the people on the streets had swallowed them up.
“Did you hear who that woman thought you were?” she asked as they continued at a slower pace down the street. “It’s a good thing you got us out of there or we might have been mobbed.”
“Let’s get the Jeep. We can drive to the Mayan ruins and watch the fireworks display.”
“He has the worst reputation. No self-respecting real artist would work with him.”
“I’ll drop you by your place so you can change.”
“Rolling Deep.” She sneered the name. “He’s probably a thug. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a police record.”
Zach stopped abruptly. “Have you ever met the man?”
She blinked and stared up into Zach’s tight face, his hair tumbled around his shoulders. For a split second he looked dangerous. She almost took a step backward. “No, and I don’t want to.”
“Have you ever considered that the tabloids sell more papers with titillating lies than printing the truth? That you might be wrong about him?”
She opened her mouth then closed it, shoved her hand through her hair. “I don’t care a flying fig about the man. He’s not worth discussing or getting upset over.”
He stared at her a long time, then took her arm and started walking again.
She glanced up at him and saw the rigid line of his jaw. “Are you upset with me?”
He took a few steps before stopping and staring down at her. “I think you’ve led a sheltered life.”
Her chin hitched. “Is that your way of calling me narrow-minded just because I don’t like music that can cause deafness or a man with a horrible reputation?” He waited a second too long to answer. “Please take me back to my condo.”
“All right.”
Laurel got inside the Jeep and slammed the door. She and Zach had just had their first fight.
Laurel slammed the door to her condo, leaving Zach standing in the doorway. As soon as the echo died, she wanted to open the door again and tell him she was sorry. She shoved her hand through her hair again.
How had they gotten into an argument over a man neither of them knew? She turned toward the bedroom and stopped. She didn’t know the man, but did Zachary? The woman in the music store said Zach looked like the man. What if they were cousins or brothers? There were plenty of people who didn’t connect her to Sabra.
She plopped down in a chair and gnawed on her lower lip. Just another reason why she shouldn’t have become intimate with Zach until they knew each other better. But if she was honest with herself, and she tried to be, she wouldn’t have a problem with them becoming lovers if they hadn’t had a fight.
Just thinking about Rolling Deep spiked her temper. He’d produced some of the top artists in the industry. He’d even done a country album. Some called him brilliant and gifted, yet he was known for all-night parties, hanging out in nightclubs and with people with unsavory reputations. Although she wasn’t entirely pleased with the producer for her last two albums, she wanted nothing to do with Rolling Deep.
The cell phone in her tote rang. She jumped and began frantically digging inside. When the phone proved elusive, she stood and dumped everything onto the chair seat. Picking it up, she quickly flipped it open and answered. “Hello.”
“Hi, Laurel.”
Laurel’s shoulders sagged at the sound of her sister’s voice. She leaned against back of the sofa. “Hello, Sabra.”
“You certainly sound excited to hear from me. You were having fun. Your vacation turn sour on you?”
Laurel blew out a breath, came to her feet, and walked through the house to the enclosed backyard with an infinity pool. It was peaceful and quiet there with the native plants and giant urns of flowers, yet it did nothing to soothe her jagged nerves. “Yes.”
There was a slight pause. “Something tells me there’s a man involved. Before today each time I’ve called you’ve been rushing here or there and always happy.”
Laurel sat on a lounge chair. Sabra had been on her own since she was twenty and had more experience dealing with men. “We had a fight.”
“Back up,” Sabra said. “I want details.”
Laurel flushed. Sabra might be her sister, but she wasn’t getting the intimate details. “We met the night after I arrived. We shared a table since there wasn’t one available, and we’ve been sort of hanging out together.”
“I think there’s more, but I’ll let it slide. So what happened to change things?” her sister asked.
“A silly argument over nothing,” Laurel said and went on to explain. She ended by saying, “I was just thinking before you called that they might be related. Perhaps that’s why he became so upset with me.”
“Laurel, if someone insulted the conductor of the New York Philharmonic—whom you worked with last year and loved every demanding second, every grueling practice—how would you react?”
“The conductor, unlike this R.D. person, has an impeccable reputation,” Laurel pointed out.
“You’re going by what you’ve heard or read, and this might sound traitorous, but you are a bit rigid in your choice of music,” Sabra said. “You never wanted to take a break and dance with me, Mama, and Dad. It was all I could do to teach you how to dance.”
Laurel’s eyes closed. “I always thought there was more time.”
“Laurel, I didn’t mean to make you sad. Dad and I understood. He was so proud of you,” Sabra said. “Your profession required hours of practice, mine didn’t. And even with all the time I spent with Dad, I still wish we had more. It’s natural to feel the way you do.”<
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“I miss him so much.”
“I do, too,” Sabra confessed softly. “And that’s a good thing. Dad was loved and he was happy. He did everything in his power to ensure we were taken care of and happy.”
A wistful sigh drifted past Laurel’s lips. “He was a great dad.”
“And he liked music,” Sabra reminded her. “All types.”
“I think Zach does as well. Although he doesn’t play professionally, he’s dynamite on the guitar,” Laurel said. “Everyone in the music shop was spellbound.”
“What does he do?”
“I don’t know. He appears successful. He said his family was privileged. The night we met, he said he didn’t want to think about work and decided to play hooky and asked me if I wanted to play with him,” Laurel explained. “Since I wanted him to see me as a woman and not the renowned classical violinist, I agreed. It worked until we had the argument.”
“So, how are you going to fix things?”
Laurel watched a bee fly from one flower to the other and sighed. “I guess I might be a bit rigid, but I don’t know if I can.”
“And you won’t know until you try. All you have to do is ask yourself if he’s worth the effort. If you never saw him again, would you be okay with it?”
Laurel’s stomach knotted just thinking about not seeing Zach again. “I like him. A lot. He’s drop-dead gorgeous with a hot body, but he’s so unconscious about it and so easy to be with.”
Sabra laughed. “The first time I saw Pierce I practically drooled, but thank goodness he has other worthwhile qualities.”
“So does Zach. He’s kind, gentle, and patient. He’s so considerate. He doesn’t do it because I’m this famous person, he just does it.”
“Oh, Laurel. I can hear the excitement in your voice. The right man will do that for you. All I can say is, it’s about time. Get off this phone and go show Zach he’ll be miserable without you.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Sabra said, cutting her off. “Live. There’s more to life than performing on the stage.”
“Is that why you refused to let me bring my violin?”
“Yes. You would have spent time in your room playing. Instead you met Zach, and I can’t wait to meet him, too,” Sabra told her, laughing.
“I want you to.” Laurel came to her feet. “He’s wonderful. Thanks as always for being the best big sister ever.”
“Go. Bye.”
Laurel shut the cell phone off. The smile slowly faded. How was she going to apologize to Zach?
He’d lost her.
Zach sat on the steps of the cottage and looked out at the calm, endless sea. He finally realized that nothing he could do or say would change Laurel’s mind about R.D. The smart thing to do was pack and leave.
Earlier, he’d dragged his suitcase from the closet and tossed a few things inside, but that was as far as he’d gotten. Just the thought of leaving her, of never seeing her again, twisted his insides. He wanted to produce her album, but even more he wanted her to be his, free and open and loving.
He wasn’t sure when his plan had changed. No, that was a lie. From the moment she’d looked up at him, he’d been lost. The first kiss had put a lock on it. After they’d made love, the key had been tossed away. She was important to him.
And she couldn’t stand him.
It didn’t matter that she was wrong. She was so set in her mind that nothing he did or said would sway her. If he tried, she’d condemn him within seconds. Either way, it was the same.
She was lost to him.
The ache in his chest deepened with each breath. He’d always had hope that he could get her to change her mind about R.D., but her adamancy this afternoon had shown he was wrong.
He scrubbed his hand over his face. He hadn’t meant to become angry with her, but it was so unfair of her to go on rumors instead of facts. Desperation had also played a part in his reaction. If he couldn’t get her to at least consider she might be wrong, she’d hate him when he told her the truth.
And she’d never want to see him again.
He loved a woman who despised the man she didn’t know he was. The realization didn’t surprise him. What did surprise him was the way he’d handled things. He was a persuasive, charming guy. He had to be in his line of work. Some of his clients had egos the size of Texas.
But he couldn’t charm Laurel or persuade her that she was wrong. He had boxed himself into a corner with no way out. He hadn’t the foggiest notion how to straighten things out between them. The truth would anger and embarrass her. She’d probably think he had used sex to try to control her.
Loving her was the most honest thing he’d ever done. She was so easy to love, to cherish. Having her awaken in his arms was sheer bliss. She was so different from other women, so unselfish.
His jaw clenched. His head bowed until his chin almost touched his chest. He’d been the selfish one. Taking her virginity, betraying her trust. Once he told her his true identity, she’d be even more sure that the lies she’d heard about him were true.
And he couldn’t blame her.
“Zach.”
His head snapped up. Laurel stood a short distance away. She looked wary. Happiness swept through him. He stood, then remembered the lies and closed his eyes.
“Please don’t be angry with me,” she said. “My sister reminded me that I can be a bit rigid when it comes to music.”
His eyes popped open. “I’m not angry at you.”
She took another few steps toward him. “I almost didn’t make it. The security guards stopped the cabdriver, but then they let me go when I told them who I was and that I was coming to see you.”
She had no idea that her name carried just as much clout as his. Perhaps more. When the lies came out, it was going to be a royal mess. He’d involved too many people. “I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know.”
A smile broke over her beautiful face. He’d carry it in his heart forever.
“I shouldn’t have been so adamant about a person I know nothing about.” She dug into her bag and pulled out a handful of Rap and hard rock CDs. “I went by the record shop and purchased these. I thought we could listen to them together.”
She was all that he ever wanted even before he knew what that was. And he had to let her go.
She took a tentative step closer. “Let’s go back to before we got into an argument about a man neither of us knows.”
Here was his chance. He opened his mouth.
“I-I know we haven’t known each other long, but—but I—I feel—” She laughed nervously. “I usually can express myself better, but this is new to me. I’ve never felt this way before. I told my sister about you, and she said I should apologize. You’re always so thoughtful. You still want to be with me, don’t you?”
“Always.” He closed the distance and pulled her into his arms. She’d just opened herself to him. He couldn’t tell her now. It would hurt her too badly, especially after she’d told her sister about him. But he could give her his one unshakable truth. “I’ve never felt this way about a woman before. I don’t want to lose you.”
Her body trembled against his. Her arms clutched him. “You won’t. I told my sister what a wonderful, caring man you are.”
Oh, Lord. How was he going to keep from hurting her? With each innocent word, she made things harder.
“Zach?” she said, her voice uncertain.
Somehow he’d find a way. He had to. His head lifted. “You game to go watch the fireworks at the Mayan ruins?”
“You don’t want to listen to the music?”
For once, music was the farthest thing from his mind. “It can wait. Remember, I promised to take you.”
A smile blossomed on her face. “And you’re a man of your word. A rarity these days.”
She was killing him, and he deserved every slice to his heart. “Let’s go.” Taking her hand, he started for the Jeep.
It was close to one in the morning when Zach walked Laurel to her
door. He’d gone over different ways of telling her the truth, but each time he’d thought of confessing his identity, she’d smile at him, happy and content, and the words would stick in his throat.
Opening her bag, she handed him the key. He opened the door and handed it back to her instead of opening it wider and following her in as he’d done in the past.
“You must be tired so I’ll take off. The Mayan jungle tour tomorrow starts at eight. I’ll pick you up at seven to give us time for breakfast.”
She smiled provocatively up at him. “We can always cancel.”
“I kind of wanted to see it.” Leaning over, he kissed her on the cheek. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She stared up at him with questions in her eyes. “All right. Good night.”
The door closed, and he went back to his Jeep. He had to find a way to tell her. Tomorrow. He’d tell her tomorrow.
Something is wrong.
Laurel had tossed and turned most of the night. Waiting for Zach that morning, she felt tense instead of happy. She hadn’t missed Zach’s staring at her most of the night instead of at the fireworks, his brow furrowed. Something had changed between them. He’d said he didn’t want to lose her, but he’d left her on the doorstep.
She jumped as the doorbell rang. Perhaps he was having second thoughts after all and just didn’t know how to tell her. The bell rang again. She came to her feet and answered the door.
“Good morning,” Zach greeted her.
“Good morning.” Laurel felt a knot in her throat. The heart-stopping smile, the barely contained desire she’d seen on his face the past few days, was gone. “I think I’ll take a pass on today,” she told him.
“What?” He came inside, shutting the door after him. “Do you feel all right?”
“Yes.” She hoped the smile on her face didn’t look as brittle as she felt. “I think I’ll take a break and just rest for the day. You go on.”
“I’m not going without you. And I’m certainly not going off someplace when you’re not feeling well,” he said.
