by Jess Bentley
Chapter 15
If Arsen Ford could have one wish it would be to not have to do any promotional events ever again. Or at least not do them with Mickey present. Even though Arsen was not trying to hog the limelight on Tanya’s show, Mickey still tried to outdo him, being loud and extravagant and dropping tons of f-bombs on the way, much to Tanya’s pleasure. Arsen was sure that the episode would get great ratings, thanks to Mickey making a fool of himself.
But Tanya kept coming back to Arsen and kept asking him questions. At one point she even got some of the bystanders to dare Arsen to kiss her. She was attractive, rich, and Arsen had no doubt that her PR people as well as his would love nothing more than to turn them both into a celebrity couple. What was not to like about that? One of the biggest rockstars in the world and one rich heiress who was super keen to make her mark on the entertainment industry?
Arsen, however, was pissed when Tanya invited in some of the paparazzi for promo shots. She knew how to play the media and get the maximum leverage out of everything. Arsen was surprised that Mickey wasn’t making a play for her. Instead, he kept himself busy with that young girl—Rory’s friend. Arsen wondered where Rory was. He’d been looking around but hadn’t seen her anywhere.
Once the shoot ended in the wee hours of the morning, everyone snorted, smoked, or drank whatever they had to and jumped into the pool. Arsen asked Don if he had seen Rory, but even the old man had no idea where she was. The kind of person that she is, she probably left the party hours ago. Wish she would have said goodbye at least. Arsen was disappointed.
Her beautiful pale face had entered his mind plenty of times since the day he had left her house. That delicate jaw, fullness of her lips, moonlight of her smile, and most of all, those innocent eyes which burned with a courage that he had rarely seen. There was also a desperation, a vulnerability in those eyes that touched his heart. It made Arsen wonder what kind of life she led that taught her that she had to fight all her battles alone.
Meeting her was like finding an oasis in the middle of hell. After years of being surrounded by silicone-enhanced, anorexic models, Rory was a welcome surprise. She was a real woman—a caring, loving, genuine woman. Aside from the first night, each time they met she made him feel warm, bringing out a human side of him that he had long thought was dead.
He wanted to kiss her the moment he entered the room. Wanted to push her against the wall, grab her by the shoulders, and kiss her like she had never been kissed before. Like he had never kissed anyone before. He was surprised by the physical reaction that her presence brought about in his body. He would just think of her and he was hard and ready.
Beautiful, intelligent and kind—there was not much Arsen asked for in a woman. Rory was all that and more. Though he had met her only a handful of times, he could tell that about her. Nothing good had happened to him since he arrived in Montcove and now that it finally had, it was time for him to leave.
They were to depart Montcove the next day. The whole experiment had been an enormous failure. He hadn’t written the hit single that he was desperately trying to write. He had written nothing of note at all, and now he had to share an hour-long plane ride with Mickey and the rest of the guys. In that moment, it dawned on Arsen that if he couldn’t even tolerate them for an hour, how the heck were they supposed to go on a world tour without things going haywire?
Arsen shook his head and started walking back to the villa. There was packing to be done and he was not going to trust anybody else with his precious guitars. He always packed them himself. The noise from the party grew dimmer and dimmer till it disappeared totally.
Before, Arsen hadn’t been sure about it, but after today he was. There was a strong moment between Rory and him that night. The kind of moment you don’t come across too often. But not never, he thought. It was the kind of spark that can keep you awake and make you write a hundred songs. But I haven’t written any so far. If there is a muse, she sure as hell isn’t showing up.
If Rory was in LA, this could’ve been something. I could’ve gotten to know her, could’ve shown her the real Arsen Ford, but for now, it’s nothing more than a vacation romance. The kind you have at summer camp when you’re a kid. The kind you fret over for a few days and then forget.
Or was it?
It was with these thoughts that Arsen Ford shut his eyes and tried to take a nap before he left the shores of Montcove for the mainland. There was a lot of work to be done in LA, and things were going to get hectic soon.
Chapter 16
Rory woke up with a hangover. She hadn’t drank so much alcohol in a single night since spring break, and it clearly showed. It had taken a good part of the morning to get into a groove and open the bookstore. Lizzy hadn’t turned up either and Rory had no doubt that she was nursing a hangover that was much worse than her own.
Lizzy perhaps was also nursing a heartbreak, since her precious Mickey was to leave the island today. And what about my heartbreak? Rory wondered if Arsen was already aboard the plane on his way back to Los Angeles. They had come that close to an embrace, that elusive kiss, that moment of deep passion, and now he was leaving.
This love story had ended even before it began and sitting alone in that bookshop, trying to nurse that hangover, Rory was miserable. There were bills to tally, financial adjustments to be made and worse, a bridesmaid’s dress to be tried on, but her mind was distracted by thoughts of Arsen.
Why couldn’t this moment have come earlier? The guy had been residing on the island for so long and it was only on his last day here that… Rory blamed it all on luck. The luck that she never seemed to have on her side. For the umpteenth time that morning she shook the thought out of her head.
The day was sunny so far and she had no doubt that she would be getting at least some walk-in customers today. At least she hoped to. Rory grabbed the bills that had been pending and started doing the math. It was the day of reckoning. She had to see how much trouble she was in. There was no doubt in her mind that she would have to ask for assistance from her parents. It was simply of matter of whether she should ask over the phone, or when she went to LA for the wedding.
It was not what she wanted to do, but what she had to do. The only other way out of this was to shut the bookstore altogether and get another job. The idea had crossed her mind before, considering that she would probably get a good price for the inventory. The kind of cash that would keep her going for a while at least. But what then?
She was sitting with her head in her hands as the door of the bookstore opened and the first of her walk-in customers for the day walked in. Time to make some money. Hopefully.
Rory looked up from the counter and confusion reigned on her face. Confusion and disbelief. Walking toward her in jeans and a T-shirt was Arsen Ford. If someone had told her this morning that Arsen would walk in, Rory would have been full of joy, but now a strong sense of shock rushed through her body.
“Why aren’t you on a plane?” she squealed.
“Wow, seems like you’re in a hurry to get me out of here.”
“No, I meant…”
“Well, the plane hasn’t left yet. I can always rush back,” he smirked, making a half turn.
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. I meant…” Rory exhaled to compose herself. “I meant, weren’t you guys supposed to leave today?”
“Yes. The departure is set for today.” He paused. Rory wanted to rush him to complete his sentence but didn’t. “But I wanted to say goodbye to you first,” he finished in a calm voice.
So this is goodbye. The confused joy that she felt when Arsen had walked in left her body in haste and was filled with that same old sense of loss.
“Well…” Rory was lost for words as she came out from behind the counter and stood in front of Arsen. Should I shake his hand or something?
“Also the thought of sharing a plane ride with Mickey was not very appealing to me. So I bailed.” He was grinning. Rory was positively confused. She wasn’t sure what was goin
g on.
“So you came to say goodbye and then get on a plane?”
“No,” he grinned.
“Then…? I’m really confused here. Are you leaving or not?”
“As much as you want me flying off on a jet plane, I am not leaving as of yet.”
“I don’t want you to leave!” The words came out too fast for her taste. “I meant that I… or anyone else for that matter doesn’t, would not want, to be rid of you. You can stay for as long as you like.” What the hell am I even saying?
“That is good to hear. Then would it be too much to ask you to spend the day with me?”
“What?” Rory was distracted by the dimples that graced his face.
“Spend a day hanging out with me.” Arsen smiled and took a couple of steps toward her.
When she had woken up that morning Rory was certain that she had seen the last of this incredible man, and somehow, he was here, right in front of her, asking to hang out with her. This was more than she could’ve dreamed of. Her concerns about his departure and the fact that it would just break her heart disappeared in the excitement.
“Sure. Why not?” She tried to be nonchalant. “Lizzy hasn’t come in anyway. I could use an assistant for the day.” Now it was her turn to smirk.
“Good. Works for me. I’d hate to go out in public and have the paparazzi ruin our day. This is a good place to hide.” He smiled.
Rory suddenly thought about how different their problems were from each other. They led such different lives as if they were living in two different worlds altogether.
“So what is it that you would like me to do?” he asked expectantly.
“Well…” Rory tried not to think too much about what she’d like him to do, lest it be written all over her face. She wanted to keep him around, in any case. “You can start by keeping me company till a customer walks in.”
“All right. Sounds good. Can I man the cash counter?” he asked.
“Be my guest.”
“Now I can also add bookstore assistant to my resume,” he said, pleased with himself, as he sat down behind the counter.
“Well—for that you have to at least make a sale,” Rory smirked.
“No problem.” Arsen looked around, grabbed a book and put it on the counter, along with a twenty dollar bill that he took out of his pocket, ringing himself in. “There you go. My first sale.”
Rory shielded her laugh with the back of her hand.
“No! Making a sale does not mean that you buy a book yourself.”
“Too bad, now it’s done,” he said, as he autographed the bill. “Now make sure that you mention this in your recommendation letter for my next employer.”
“Oh. So you haven’t sat behind the counter for five minutes and you are already thinking about the next job?”
“A man’s gotta hustle.”
“Word.” Rory bumped a fist to her chest and said it out loud in her best rapper imitation. This time, it was Arsen’s turn to laugh.
“Thinking of becoming a rapper, are we?” he said.
“Oh, dear God, no. Of all the things I have done in life, I have never ever thought of becoming a rapper.”
“So what are all the things have you done in life?”
“Well. I grew up in LA, so the usual stuff. A bunch of times I was an assistant to people who worked in the entertainment business. Chauffeuring them around, catering to their whims. I have been an assistant buyer at a small clothing brand as well, and once, at the behest of my parents, I was a full-time volunteer at the local church. You can imagine how that turned out.”
“Why? You seem like a good church-going girl,” Arsen winked.
“I have been called a lot of things but not that.” Rory chuckled. “How my mom would love to hear you say this…And I have also painted houses for a living,” she finished.
“Now that I find difficult to believe. In fact, I refuse to believe that.”
“Oh c’mon. Don’t tell me that you think that it is a man’s job?”
“Not that. I meant that a pretty girl like you would never put herself out in the harsh sun like that.”
Dammit. Stop flirting. His words were simple, but that twinkle in his eyes as he stared deep into her—that’s what made his compliments most special to her. With him she didn’t have to worry if he was just saying things. She knew he meant it.
“When I moved to LA, my first job was a nighttime security guard. Which suited me well because at the shitty building complex where I was living, you’d get to hear tons of police sirens at night. It was difficult to get good sleep. So I decided to doze off on the job instead.” He paused as if in reflection.
“In fact, that building complex, where I was crashing on an old pal’s couch, was where I first met Mickey. As the media is fond of saying, ‘the rest is history.’” He snorted sarcastically as he looked away.
“It must’ve been pretty good in the beginning?” Rory interjected, taking a seat on the high stool right opposite him.
“Absolutely. It was pretty great. He was a great singer, had a charismatic stage presence, and the first year or so was pretty darn awesome. It was all good before a lot of money started rolling in, and with that came the drugs and the parties. At that time it seemed awesome to be rich and famous but in hindsight, that is what tore the band apart.”
Arsen was still dealing with his inner turmoil. Rory could see that his attachment to the band and to his music was so intense that he easily got lost into contemplative thoughts every time he spoke of Mickey or the band.
“At times it can seem very difficult. As if there is no way out, no solution. But there is always a way,” she said in a gentle voice.
A big smile came upon Arsen’s face.
“Are you sure you haven’t been a guidance counselor as well?”
“Why?”
“There is just something about the way you give assurances. When you just said it, I really did feel like everything was going to be all right.” Arsen smiled. If only I could give such assurances to myself, Rory thought, though outwardly she flashed a smile at Arsen.
They must’ve sat by the counter and chatted for more than an hour, but to Rory it seemed like minutes. She was right about Arsen. There was certainly more to him than met the eye. Despite his perfect, muscular, rebellious good looks, he most certainly wasn’t your average, spoiled rockstar. The time went so fast, it wasn’t until her stomach made grumbling noises that she realized that it was beyond lunch time.
Rory wondered if she should order some food, but Arsen insisted that they head to the kitchen and make something themselves. To her surprise, both of them did actually throw together quite a sumptuous meal. Even doing chores with him is so much fun.
Things just became interesting when Arsen was around. It didn’t hurt that he had a sharp, sarcastic sense of humor. It also didn’t hurt that the more time she spent with him, the better he looked. I could eat you like an apple, Rory thought to herself as she bit into an actual apple and stole a glance at him. Her naughty thoughts were disturbed when the sound of his voice echoed in her ears.
“Now that we are fed and full, I think we both could use a drink… or five,” he said.
Rory chuckled.
“Every time you come here, you’re always trying to get me drunk. You better not be thinking of taking advantage of me,” Rory smirked.
“Damn. You unraveled my plan. Now I will have to think of some other way to… take advantage of you.” Arsen squinted his eyes and put on an evil smirk. After a few seconds of him holding the pose, Rory was confused if he really meant what he said, but then he broke into a big laughter.
“Chop up some apples, Aurora. I am gonna make you a drink.”
“Aurora? No one calls me Aurora anymore.” At least no one had since Grandma Colleen passed away. It felt nice. Arsen’s presence made Rory realize how accustomed she had gotten to living alone, and yet now that he was here, this beautiful house truly felt like a home.
Back in the
kitchen, Arsen refused to let her see what he was up to. He took out pretty much everything that was there in the liquor cabinet and for a moment she was worried, before she remembered that he had indeed worked as a bartender before.
“Here you go.” He handed her a small wine glass that was deep red in color, with tiny apple pieces floating on top. “When I was in Spain, a barista at this completely out of the way, unfashionable bar that I frequented taught me how to make this. La Sangria, señorita.”
Rory wasn’t sure what else she was worried about as the drink was utterly delicious. They sat in the kitchen, talking quietly, sipping on their drinks. Arsen had finished two glasses in the time it took her to finish one.
“Rory. Why don’t you give me a tour of the house?”
“Sure. Let me fill up my glass first.” She winked.
As she filled her glass, Arsen started walking off on his own and as fate would have it, the first room he entered was the space she used every day as working space to chalk out her designs and make prints for the shirts.
“You’re an artist?” He was visibly surprised.
“Well... I dabble.”
“This is much more than dabbling. Wow, there is even more to you than you let on.” Arsen walked around picking up and scrutinizing different T-shirts.
“These T-shirts are fabulous. Simple, yet… very cool,” Arsen said.
Yeah, that is what everyone says. If they are so stylish then why aren’t I making bank? Rory thought. Annoyed that she had let herself drift off toward gloomy thoughts, she took a big swig of the sangria and shook her head.
“It is as if these T-shirts are making a statement. These’re not just random designs, but it seems to me that the person who created these is trying to say something,” Arsen continued.
Now it was Rory’s turn to be surprised. He had described in a few words what she herself thought about her work, or at least liked to. She could tell that he was not making it up, as he was genuinely going through each and every design of hers.
