The promise of a quiet evening, a pizza delivered to her door from Tonelli’s, and an umpteenth viewing of Notting Hill brought a smile to Skye’s lips. Six days a week, her schedule was jampacked with work, classes, friends, and family.
Tonight, the only person Skye had to answer to was herself.
Locking the store’s entrance, she reached to pull down the front door blind. Absently, Skye glanced out the window and gasped when staring back, she found a piece of her past.
“Joplin?”
“Will you let me in?” Joplin’s gaze dropped to the key in Skye’s hand. “Or keep me locked out?”
The way you kept me locked out for the past six years? The first year, was more accurate. Joplin reached out, diligently, the first twelve months after the devastating breakup of Razor’s Edge. After her phone calls went unanswered, her texts ignored, and her letters returned, she did what any sane person would do, moved on.
As time passed, Skye regretted the loss of a very good friend. She wanted to reconnect but didn’t know how without tearing open her barely healed wounds.
Even now, one look into Joplin’s clear green eyes brought everything rushing back, sending an ache through the invisible scars surrounding her heart.
Taking a breath, she flipped open the lock. Older, wiser, infinitely stronger, Skye didn’t run from her fears; she faced them, head on.
“Please. Come in.”
“So formal. Then again, I’m probably the last person you expected to see.” Joplin’s lips curled into a wry smile. “Maybe not the last.”
Gathering her thoughts, Skye pulled down the shades. No reason to pretend ignorance, she decided.
“I doubt you came all this way to talk about the great Jaxon Cross.”
Joplin shook her head, her shoulder-length blond hair falling back into place, proof of an expertly delivered cut. Born a natural beauty, the casual gray linen pants and loose silk top suited her tall, lithe frame.
The best way to describe Joplin six years later was that she hadn’t aged, she’d matured.
“Jax is the elephant from the room.”
Skye shrugged, grateful Joplin couldn’t hear the beat of her heart pounding like a timpani drum.
“I haven’t thought about him, talked about him, or cared about him for a long time.”
And you are a bold-faced liar.
Skye was surprised Joplin didn’t call her out; her nonchalant attitude didn’t fool anyone. She was over Jax but six years or sixty, she would never forget the impact he had on her life.
Joplin understood. From the first they clicked, two women outnumbered by their testosterone-fueled counterparts. Razor’s Edge was a mere blip in the annals of rock and roll. But the memories, good and bad, would always be a part of them.
“You look good.”
About to say the same thing, Skye laughed.
“Small talk already?”
“We used to gab for hours without a single awkward pause.” Joplin smiled, her green eyes warm with the memory. “We needed each other.”
“Yes,” Skye agreed. “Best of all, we liked each other.”
Other women had entered Skye’s life. Companions for dinner and a movie or a Saturday shopping excursion. But the connection she and Joplin shared wasn’t easy to replace.
“You tried to stay in touch, and I…”
“A clean break was easier.”
Joplin was ready to let her off the hook. Tempted, Skye knew the time had come to deal with what happened—the easier part.
“Have you eaten?”
“I came straight here from the airport.” Joplin patted the satchel slung over her shoulder. “Luggage and all.”
Some things never changed. Laser focused, Joplin traveled light and wouldn’t stop to refuel, or simply take a moment for herself until her assignment was complete.
“Then let me treat you to the best pizza you’ll ever eat.”
“The best?” Joplin looked skeptical. “Pretty big guarantee.”
“I feel confident, but you can judge for yourself.”
Skye led the way across the store, into the back room, up a narrow staircase, to her living quarters.
“Wow!” Joplin turned in a slow circle. “Not what I expected.”
More of a loft than a traditional apartment, the large, open space boasted high ceilings, hardwood floors, and a bank of south-facing windows that allowed for daylong natural sunlight and a spectacular view of downtown Seattle.
“Don’t tell the owner, but the second I saw the place, I was ready to give up my salary if she let me move in.”
“Work for free?” Joplin raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Maybe a reduced wage.” Sighing with relief, Skye slipped off her heels. “Have some wine while I take a minute to change. The bottle’s in the fridge, the glasses in the cupboard over the sink.”
The bedroom was barely big enough for a double bed and a small nightstand. Skye didn’t care, she used the room to sleep, nothing more. But the attached walk-in closet was a dream come true.
Skye unzipped her skirt, shimmying the garment down her hips. One part of the closet was reserved for her work wardrobe. Blouses, jackets, trousers, a style she called saleswoman chic, never flashy, but with enough color and subtle bling to stave off boring.
The middle section Skye reserved for off-work clothing. Summery dresses, winter knits, t-shirts, sneakers, boots. Pulling on a pair of jeans, her gaze moved to the far corner of the closet, space she rarely entered and if she had a lick of sense, wouldn’t exist.
“I decided to give myself the full tour.” Entering the room, Joplin handed Skye a glass of chardonnay. Moving past Skye, she brushed her hand over a beaded jacket. “You kept your stage wardrobe.”
“I meant to donate everything to charity.”
“A touch ultra for Goodwill.” Joplin smiled wistfully over a pair of leather pants. “Offhand, I could name a half-dozen talented but cash-poor singers who would kill for these.”
Skye quelled the instinct to snatch the garment from Joplin’s fingers while she screamed, over my dead body. Knowing she had no practical use for the clothes was one thing. Ridding herself of them as another.
“They were a gift. To give everything away would be an insult to Zoe Hart.”
“Souvenirs.” Joplin went from garment to garment. “Keepers of the memories.”
No one else could understand, Skye thought as her connection with Joplin began the healing process right before her eyes.
“What did you keep?”
“Nothing quite as grand.” Joplin turned, her gaze sheepish. “In an old purse, shoved to the back of my closet, is a guitar pick.”
No need for Skye to inquire over the pick’s former owner. Kane Harrison, troubled, talented, friend and foe, left his mark on all of them.
“I’d love to say they screwed us up, but…”
“We need to shoulder our share of the blame.” Joplin finished Skye’s thought without hesitation. “Besides, we’re no more screwed up than the average woman in her late twenties.”
“You’re right.” Skye sipped her wine. “I have a good job, a healthy social life, and a regular gig at the community theater.”
“What did the reviewer call your Maggie the Cat? Incandescent and revelatory?” Joplin raised her glass. “Congratulations.”
Skye blushed. Securing the lead in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof meant her acting career was headed in the right direction. However, she wasn’t comfortable with such over-the-top praise.
“Revelatory is an exaggeration. As for incandescent, I— Wait a second. How did you know?” Laughing, Skye rolled her eyes. “Google.”
“Cheaper than a private investigator and almost as accurate.”
“I’m glad to see you, Joplin. Thrilled. But you didn’t stop by to reminisce about old times, or to catch up on new ones.”
“Let’s sit.”
The dusty-rose sofa was bargain base
ment, but the cushions were sink-in comfortable, a place where Skye spent many an evening curled up with a good book. Sensing what Joplin had to say meant more wine, she grabbed the bottle before joining her friend.
“Wait.” Skye topped off their glasses. Taking a drink, she prepared herself for some bad news. “Ready.”
“Uncle Danny is dying.”
“I’m sorry.”
Skye didn’t know how she felt. For her, Danny Graham was more of a legend than a real person. He orchestrated the band’s career, but during her time with Razor’s Edge, she met the agent a total of three times. Larger than life, he swooped in, greeted her like a long-lost friend, said all the right things, but his words were the equivalent of cocktail party chatter—pleasant with little consequence.
“Since his diagnosis, Danny’s worked to get all his ducks in a row, financially and personally.” Her gaze thoughtful, Joplin ran a finger around the rim of her glass. “Took a brain tumor to slow him down. Currently, he’s in Europe, his first vacation in twenty years.”
“He asked you to go around and tell people in person?”
“In Danny’s mind, Razor’s Edge was his greatest triumph. And his biggest failure.”
What a bunch of crap, Skye wanted to rail. Jax, Kane, Beck, and Morgan worked tirelessly, honing their craft. By the time Danny Graham came along, Razor’s Edge had the tools to be great, acquired on their own. All they needed was a break, something Danny gave them with very little effort on his part.
Clearing her throat, Skye searched for the right words.
“No one ever claimed your uncle lacked an ego.”
“Danny isn’t perfect—to say the least. He can be a tyrant, a bully, and a royal pain in the ass.” Joplin took a shaky breath. “Funny thing is, love camouflages a multitude of faults. When he told me his final wish, I couldn’t say no.”
“What does he want?”
“A Razor’s Edge reunion.”
Joplin delivered the news with a casual shrug, the way she’d ask a stranger the time of day.
“No.” Skye drained her wine. “No, no, no.”
“Don’t beat around the bush. What’s your answer?” Joplin said with a straight face.
“Are you serious?” Skye hovered between outrage and disbelief.
Joplin’s lips twitched, her eyes brimming with good-natured humor. Skye rolled her eyes, feeling like a fool.
“Guess where Razor’s Edge is concerned, my sense of humor is nonexistent.
“The joke’s been on me,” Joplin sobered. “Uncle Danny’s request put me on an emotional loop-the-loop. One second I resented him, the next I was almost grateful for a legitimate excuse to contact everyone.”
“How do you feel now?”
“Hopeful we can find our friendship again.” Joplin’s clear green eyes clouded over. “I’ve missed you, missed us.”
Six years. The first few months were interminable. Skye wished the time away, sleeping whenever possible until her eyes invariably opened, and she would remember why she craved nothingness over reality.
“I was angry, hurt. You, who did nothing wrong, were tied up in the memories. When I grew tired of wallowing and kicked myself for acting like a character in a bad novel, the kind no one roots for. I wanted to call, planned to get in touch.”
“Time slipped through your fingers.” Smiling, Joplin nodded. “I buried myself in work. When I finally looked up, you know what I realized?”
“What?”
“I jumped off, but the world didn’t stop turning. Worse, no one cared. So, I took a deep breath and jumped back on.”
“Are you happy?” Skye asked, then hoped Joplin didn’t throw the question back her way.
“I’m engaged to be married.”
No ring, Skye noticed, glancing at Joplin’s bare finger. Interesting.
“Engaged and happy?”
Joplin hesitated, rarely a good sign as far as Skye was concerned.
“Forget happy. Do you love him?”
“Don’t happy and love go hand in hand?” Joplin shrugged. “We’re well suited.”
After one major disaster and a string of lukewarm romances to her credit, Skye reminded herself she was in no position to judge. Still, marriage and dating were two different animals. She couldn’t imagine taking the plunge unless her heart was fully committed.
“At least tell me the sex is good.”
“Good? Sure, close enough.” Rubbing her neck, Joplin sighed. “I like Bradly, something I can’t say about a lot of people. A lawyer, he’s focused on making partner which means he doesn’t complain about the long hours I spend at the office or gripe when I’m off on a long business trip.”
“One more question, then we can talk bridal showers and color schemes.”
“Color schemes?” Joplin shuddered. “I’ll take personal questions over wedding planning any day.”
“My point exactly. Big, small, or a trip to city hall, a bride should feel some excitement.” Skye frowned. “You spend all your time working, sounds like Bradly does the same. Shouldn’t you want to be together? Otherwise, why bother to get married?”
“He proposed, I said yes. And…” Joplin slumped backward. “Bradly works at a firm where the partners are married.”
“Your fiancé says, I do, and takes a big step forward in his career. What’s your reward?” Skye demanded. “Besides two or three years of boring followed by a divorce—if you’re lucky.”
“Time to change the subject.” Joplin cleared her throat with a sip of wine.
A little embarrassed by her outburst, Skye picked up her phone, more than happy to follow Joplin’s lead.
“Pizza. What toppings sound good?”
“Anything but anchovies and pineapple.” Kicking off her shoes, Joplin tucked her feet under her legs. “You aren’t my first no.”
“Hm?” Joplin placed the order. “What do you mean?”
“Jax was adamant. He won’t participate in a Razor’s Edge reunion.”
Joplin visited Jax. Spent time with him, face to face. The news didn’t shock or surprise Skye. Instead, she felt calm and vaguely detached.
“How is he?”
“Other than outrageously successful? I know,” Joplin held up a hand. “No need to state the obvious.”
Sitting, Skye pulled her legs up to her chest, resting her cheek on her knees.
“Made sense Jax would continue to perform. Music was his life.”
“A born entertainer,” Joplin agreed. “When I heard he’d signed with a new record company, I wondered how he would manage as a solo artist. Didn’t miss a step, naturally. His first album went double platinum.”
Skye was happy for Jax, he deserved every bit of his success. Yet, his seamless transition rankled. While she suffered through months of anger and self-recriminations, the loss of his friends, of her, didn’t faze him at all.
“No regrets. Must be nice.”
“Don’t fool yourself. Jax paid a price.”
“I’m sure,” Skye scoffed. “The money, the power, the endless adulation. The man’s in hell.”
“The world is filled with talented musicians. But Jax was joyful.”
Skye frowned, her gaze thoughtful.
“How do you mean?”
“The music, singing, playing, made him happy, and everyone within earshot couldn’t help but feel the same.” Joplin smiled at the memory. “Jax held the audience in his hand.”
“I remember.”
Skye didn’t know at the time, but Jax won her heart the first time she had heard him sing.
Joplin divided what was left of the wine.
“I’ve never known a kinder man.”
“Generous.” Skye warmed to the subject. “Understanding.”
“Patient,” Joplin added. She sighed. “He’s changed, Skye.”
“Audiences still love him.”
“Onstage, Jax is better than ever. Off…?” Joplin shrugged.
“He’s what?” Skye had to know. “Tell me.”
“I couldn’t put my finger on what changed, beyond the beard and longer hair. Then, a few days later, the answer hit me.” A frown creased Joplin’s brow. “Jax has turned into Kane.”
Skye’s stomach clenched, the air rushing from her lungs.
“Without the drug and alcohol addiction,” Joplin rushed to explain. “Breathe before you pass out.”
Skye concentrated on slowing her pulse before her heart burst from her chest. The image of Jax falling down the same rabbit hole that swallowed Kane was a hard one to clear from her mind.
“You almost scared the life out of me.”
“I’m sorry. Talk about burying the lead.” Joplin’s laugh held little humor.
Better, but still jittery, Skye unclenched her hands, wiping her damp palms on her jeans.
“What did you mean?”
“Kane had an edge to his voice. Sharp, cutting. He used hard, hurtful words to keep people at arm’s length.” Joplin exhaled as if letting go of the painful memories. “If Jax were Kane’s student, I’d say he’s almost surpassed the master.”
Skye hoped Joplin was wrong.
“How much time did you spend with him?”
“Less than an hour.”
“Then—”
Joplin jumped in before Skye could finish
“You believe Jax covered his true feelings, put on an act for my benefit?”
“Obviously, you don’t agree.”
“Perhaps I wasn’t the best judge.” The weary sadness in Joplin’s eyes was palpable. “He was at the end of a long tour. I ambushed him. When he sniped at me, I sniped back. In retrospect, neither of us were what I’d call gracious.”
Skye appreciated Joplin’s honesty. Turning her head from side to side, she tried to relax the knotted muscles. Dredging up the past was a nasty business. Helped to have an understanding friend by her side.
“Be nice if we could fix our mistakes. If.” Joplin sighed. “The most aggravating and useless word in the English language.”
“I agree.” Skye, wine buzzing through her blood, didn’t care. “If you could go back, what would you change?”
The seconds ticked by in silence.
ALMOST PARADISE Page 13
