“I feel a little awkward,” he began, sitting down near her. He nervously rubbed his palms up and down his thighs a few times.
“Why?” she asked, brushing some sand from her jeans.
“Two reasons: a certain conversation we had over New Year’s that we’ve been avoiding and you seeing Ethan.”
“I don’t get it,” she said, regarding him with undisguised curiosity.
“You like him, don’t you?”
With her eyes downcast, she nodded. He had a feeling they would hit it off. He had been setting Ethan up for a while now and, in the back of his mind, he knew he had the perfect girl for Ethan but Luke hadn’t been ready to let her go, was afraid of this next step.
“This is good, Mia. Very good. This kicks us both in the ass to move on. Now we can just be friends, albeit the best of friends,” he said, putting a smile on his face for her. God, he didn’t realize this would hurt so much. He felt like he might throw up. He looked at Mia, seeing tears in her eyes. Guess it wasn’t just hard for him.
“Luke …”
“Come here,” he said, opening his arms to her. She scooted across the blanket and threw herself into his embrace. His fingers curled in her hair, pushing her head to his chest. He tenderly kissed the top of her head, smelling the familiar scent of her honey-scented shampoo. Luke felt her sobs rather than heard them. This felt like a goodbye, though, rationally or was it irrationally, he knew that it wasn’t. He had no intention of letting her leave his life. They were just moving on to another phase, right? A better phase.
“Mia?”
“Hmm?” she murmured against his shirt.
“Best friends are supposed to tell each other everything. Isn’t that how it goes?”
“Yeah, I suppose, though I don’t think I’ve ever had a true best friend to really know the rules.”
He softly chuckled at that, running his hand through her hair. “Well … what do you say? Do we abide by that rule?”
“Sure.” He heard her smile in her voice.
“Just don’t give me specifics on your sex life, okay? I don’t think I can bear it … more than that, I don’t want to be jealous or turned on by it.”
He felt the puff of air against his chest as she laughed. She raised her eyes to his, a twinkle evident in her brown pools.
“What? You don’t want to live vicariously through me? That was the plan and vice versa, wasn’t it? I live through you and you through me. I’ll have all the sex and you have the kid,” she said, the humor leaving her voice. “I envy you—that you have Kaitlyn, the most wonderful little angel. I just hope I can be as lucky as you someday, Luke.”
He turned his attention to his daughter running around the playset. He wasn’t as lucky as she thought. She didn’t know what a mental case Kaitlyn’s mother was.
“Luke? Come back to me,” she said, breaking the silence. “What’s wrong?”
“Remember our agreement about telling each other everything?”
Mia nodded, taking his hand, concern written all over her face. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Well, Taylor has found a new man and has been threatening to sue for full custody of Kaitlyn.”
“Oh, God! Why? What is her problem?”
“She’s a nut case?” he suggested.
“Well, besides that,” she laughed.
“Maybe I should be the one asking for full custody. I don’t know what I’d do without my daughter,” Luke said, hearing the fear in his voice.
“Well, have you spoken with your lawyer about it?”
“No.”
“Maybe it’s time. Wouldn’t hurt to talk, just to see what he says.”
He gave her a quick squeeze. “There is a reason to keep you around. Thank you. I’ll make the call tomorrow.”
She smiled and then her cell phone rang. He saw her look at it and her smile faded. Obviously that was not a call from Ethan.
“Who is it?”
“My father,” she stated, her voice full of dread.
“Answer it,” he said. “I’ll go play with Kaitlyn. Join us when you’re done.”
Mia
Luke got up and walked over to the playground. Mia watched him swing Kaitlyn high in the air as she listened to her phone ring.
“Damn it,” she muttered. If she picked up, she’d be speaking with her father. Her demeanor changed, her shoulders tensed, and she hadn’t even answered the call yet. She seriously debated letting the call go unanswered, but then she would just have to call him back and that was even harder.
“Might as well get it over with,” she muttered, flipping the phone open. “Hello?”
“Mia,” he stated, his French-accented voice clipped.
“Oh, hi, Papa,” she tried her best to sound happy to hear from him.
“I tried your apartment a few days ago. I left a message for you to call, but I haven’t heard from you.”
“Sorry, Papa, I’ve been out of town,” she replied, rubbing her forehead, feeling it start to ache.
“For work?”
“No, I’m visiting a friend.”
“You should have checked your messages,” he said crossly. Damn it! Could she ever do anything right?
“I know. Je suis désolé, Papa.”
“Mia, I swear I hear the words ‘I’m sorry’ come from your mouth more than any other phrase.”
She wanted to fight back, tell him if he wasn’t always criticizing her, if he only accepted her as Mia, his daughter, not the offspring of her mother, things might be a little different. But all he seemed to see was her mother. This was a recurring theme in all their conversations.
“Anyway,” he continued. “You received some mail at the house. A few items look like they are from your grandmother.”
“Mémé?” She loved hearing from her grandmother in France. The way she described her everyday life made Mia feel like she was in France with her. She could picture it so vividly in her mind. Mémé always asked about what her granddaughter was up to, what she did, the people in her life, and whatever Mia told her, she always felt loved by her grandmother regardless of what stupid thing she did.
“Oui. Since I probably won’t see you until the holidays,” he said with what seemed like disappointment in his voice. Did her father actually miss her? “I’m going to ship this to your apartment. Be sure to write back to your grandmother immediately. You’re her only grandchild.”
She actually heard a touch of pride in his voice.
“Oui, Papa. I will.”
“Have you been writing lately? Maybe you could send your grandmother something … I mentioned it to her.”
“Yes.”
“Are you still playing with the same people?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“That’s good. When you can, would you send me some of your songs?”
Wow, she thought. He was absolutely shocking her today. He never expressed that much interest in her music before.
“Yes, of course, Papa.”
“Okay, I best be going. Adieu, Mia.”
“Adieu.”
She put her phone in her purse, stunned by that conversation. His interest in her writing and music surprised her. Hell, this entire conversation surprised her. Except for the first part, it was actually one of the better conversations she’d had with him in a long time.
Mia turned to watch Luke and Kaitlyn, remembering the times she and her father used to play in her backyard. But things changed. A small tinge of jealousy ate at her over the bond Luke had with Kaitlyn. He was so in love with his daughter. Her father used to be like that with her.
Before her mother left them.
Her father used to take her to the university and they would walk along the Red Cedar River among the bustle of the students. They would walk through the gardens explaining what she saw. Mia loved it the most when he took her to his office with the musty smell of all of his old history books. She would flip through them. At that time, she was more interested in books with pictures tha
n the words in them. That changed after her mother left. Mia devoured the books her father had in order to have some sort of conversation with him.
“Mia!” Kaitlyn shouted, waving at her, breaking her from her reverie. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Mia thought, crossing the short distance between the blanket and the swings. She plopped down on the swing, knowing it was an invitation for Kaitlyn to join her. The little girl immediately hopped on her lap, her arms and legs wrapped around Mia. Luke laughed and proceeded to push them both.
Despite the way she felt before she spoke with her dad, Mia felt genuinely happy. She kissed the little girl’s forehead and just let herself enjoy the moment.
Mia sat on the floor, watching her bandmates pack up their instruments. Tonight’s rehearsal felt really good. The four of them were ready—confident. It was a good feeling to have. Though, she had a little bit of a nervous feeling lurking about to which she laid the blame on the mysterious record label executive who may or may not be at the show the next day.
She was zipping up the guitar case when her guitarist, Marty Locke, plopped down beside her, his long legs crossed in front of him.
“We rock!” he exclaimed, his light green eyes sparkling behind his glasses. With those on, she could believe he was a lawyer, but with them off and the short sleeve T-shirt showcasing all his tattoos, she could see him as the musician he truly was.
Marty surprised her when he walked into the rehearsal space that evening. He’d shaved off his beautiful dark blond hair. Well, not really surprised. He kept his hair very short for the most part, though he would grow it out every now and again. She liked the longer hair on him, but now it was gone; his head was hairless and shiny.
She laughed. “We do!”
He kicked her guitar case with his shoe. “Glad you decided to learn that.”
“So, a little better at least?” she looked at him beseechingly.
“It’s a good thing you’re gorgeous and have a good voice.”
“Hey!” she exclaimed as he chuckled at his joke.
“Kidding. You’re no Jimi Hendrix, but you can play, Mia. Like I said, I’m glad you decided to stick with the guitar.”
“Aww, Marty, that’s so sweet.”
Her ringing cell phone interrupted their banter. She reached into her bag to answer it.
“Hello?” she asked, turning away from Marty.
“Mia?” She heard Ethan’s voice come over the line and her heart leapt with happiness. She had missed him over the past few days.
“Hi!”
“How are you?”
“Pretty good now,” she paused, looking at Marty and held up her finger. “Can you give me a second, Ethan?”
“Sure.”
She placed the phone against her chest, needing to verify the information for tomorrow night.
“We’re meeting at the club at six-thirty?”
“Right. See you tomorrow, Mia,” he said, grabbing his bag and case. She waited until Marty left the space before continuing her call with Ethan.
“Sorry, Ethan. We were just finishing up practice.”
“How was it?”
“It went really well, actually.”
“You sound surprised.”
The southern drawl that laced his voice surprisingly turned her on and that had her wondering if he would be coming tomorrow because she really wanted to see him again.
“That’s because I am. All the new stuff sounded great and that makes me very nervous!” She paused, pulling her keys out of her backpack. “So, what has made me the lucky recipient of a call from the famous Ethan Christopher?”
“To tell you about the details of my date.”
“Your date?” Mia asked, feeling confused. She didn’t invite him to her show so he could bring some other girl.
“Yeah, for tomorrow. Don’t you remember? You set it all up for me. I’m really excited about it. Luke said he’d pick me up at seven o’clock so he and I could get a quick bite to eat,” he paused. “Oh, I wonder where he’ll take me …”
Mia burst out laughing at Ethan’s imitation of a girl. “Ethan! Where are you? Can anyone hear you?”
“I’m in my car. Don’t worry.”
“So you’ll be at the show tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’ll be there. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“You are?” she asked, pleasantly surprised by this.
“Yes, I am. Besides the music, I want to see you in your rock star outfit, looking all incredibly sexy.”
“You are delusional. I will not look sexy, nor do I ever look sexy.”
“You’re the delusional one. I think you looked sexy every single time I’ve laid my eyes upon you.”
“Whatever. Be serious.”
“I have never been more serious,” he said, letting out a puff of air full of exasperation. “I thought you looked especially sexy the last time I saw you—your hair messed up, your clothes askew …”
Her cheeks blushed, thinking of the way Ethan looked at her before he kissed her. The way he touched her, he worshipped her like a deity. Everything he did was erotic to her. All she seemed to think about was him—naked. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. There were other thoughts too, but the sexy, naked ones seemed to leave more of an impact.
“Mia?” he said, a lovely huskiness to his tone.
She took a deep steadying breath before answering. “Yes.”
“This is when you say, ‘thank you.’”
“Thank you,” she said breathlessly.
“Don’t worry, suga. I plan to show you just how sexy I think you are.”
Swallowing the large lump that had formed in her throat, Mia considered inviting him over tonight. She didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.
“Um, you promise?” she dared.
She heard his deep chuckle over the phone. “I promise,” he paused, letting the words sink in then he continued. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, suga.”
“Good night, Ethan.”
“Good night.”
Mia sighed and quickly grabbed her things so she could leave. Tomorrow was going to be a good day. She could feel it.
Mia
Friday - Day of Show
Mia sat on the cold metal folding chair, the bass from the current band vibrating against her thighs. She didn’t even bother to find out the name of the band. Her mind was preoccupied. Ethan and Luke would be in the audience as could a man who could change her life forever.
No! Don’t think about it, she admonished herself silently.
She checked her watch. The other band should be finishing up in a few minutes. Her stomach felt sour. She sipped some warm water from the glass she had on the table. She could not believe how nervous she was tonight. She had never been this bad. She didn’t trust herself to even speak and it killed her that the rest of the band seemed no worse for wear.
What the fuck, she thought. Why the hell am I the only one who’s nervous? I shouldn’t be nervous. They had such an amazing rehearsal last night and that hadn’t been the first one. Things were going great. The past month things had been really clicking for them, working like clockwork as her father was fond of saying.
So what then? Was it the prospect of finally being noticed? That tonight could be the night? Mia thought she had pushed that far from her mind. Obviously not.
She wouldn’t—no, couldn’t—let the fact that some executive from TBD Records could be at the show affect her. No, she would play like normal, just like last night. She would not let a record executive affect anything, she thought, continually trying to beat down her nerves.
“Mia?”
The sound of her name startled her. She must have really zoned out. Opening her eyes, she found Marty kneeling down in front of her.
“Ready?” he asked, squeezing her knee.
She only nodded. Standing up, she grabbed her glass of water and made her way with her band through the extremely dark and dreary hallway to the side stage. Taking a deep breath, she awaited
the signal from the club manager to go on stage.
Ethan
When they first arrived, Ethan feared he and Luke were late. He wanted to kick Luke’s ass for his cross-town food urges, but then he saw the singer on stage—a guy—and relief washed over him.
“Relax,” Luke shouted over the music. “Mia will be on next. Last act.”
Luke and Ethan worked their way through the crowd to the bar where they ordered a couple of beers as they waited for the Aneurysms to finish their set. Ethan just listened to the music, waiting for it to end so he could see Mia and her band, Last Star.
The music finally ended and the Aneurysms made their way off stage. Many of the concert goers then headed for the bar. With a jerk of his head, Luke started to make his way further in and Ethan was right behind him. They worked their way against the crowd towards the stage to about the sixth row. Luke seemed to know the people here. Many greeted him by name. Ethan overheard him ask a few of the guys how things were going in Chicago.
While Luke chatted with the crowd, Ethan observed the club. It was dark and smoky. The few lights highlighted the dust particles inside. The stage stood about three feet off the ground. He watched some men hurrying about on the stage, setting up microphones, the drums and making sure everything was plugged in.
While he watched the set-up of the equipment, Luke chatted with him about Mia.
“Have you seen Mia play before?” Ethan asked.
Luke nodded, taking a swig of his beer. “I used to go to every show when I lived in Chicago. I haven’t seen her play that much since I moved to Indianapolis.”
“How long has she been playing?”
“Hmm … about six years. Those people over there,” he said, nodding his head to the people he had been talking with earlier. “I see them at like every show I go to. I think some of them are old friends of Marty and Todd.”
“Wow,” he exclaimed, kind of impressed. “Who are Marty and Todd?” Ethan asked, feeling a little dumb for not knowing.
“Marty is the guitarist. Todd is the drummer, and Clark is the bassist.”
“How did the two of you meet?”
“We met at the newspaper. She was the advertising exec’s assistant. He was a total prick; I was not. So we became fast friends.”
Bring Me You Page 8
