I hesitate a moment before answering. “Why would it? I’m not your keeper. I’ve made my position very clear here.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I can see it in your eyes. You like me Lisa. A lot.”
He pulls up in front of my house, and I scramble to get out of the car, feeling aggravated at his over the top reaction. He’s being such a petulant child right now.
I turn around to give him a piece of my mind. “You know what Marcus? Seems to me that you’re so used to getting what you want that you can’t stand that I’m not willing to jump into bed with you right away. You can’t stand that I’ve said no to you. You’re acting like a sulky child who won’t go away just because he’s not being given into.
“And guess what Marcus? I’m not giving into you. EVER!” I yell, slamming the door on him.
Before I know it, he’s roaring off down the road. “Get back here! You’ve got my fucking car!” I yell after him, realising that he also has my house keys. “Shit.”
Pulling out my phone, I dial the only person who has a spare set of keys to my house. Sandra. This means I’m going to have to tell her what’s going on between Marcus and me…
But first, I’m going to have to figure out what the hell is going on between Marcus and me, because right now, I have no idea.
Chapter 7
Marcus
“What?” I bite out, as I pull up outside my house and answer my phone. Already there are five missed calls from Craig and three from my assistant, Karen.
“Finally,” Craig says in response. “Where have you been all day? You’ve been asked to do Triple K’s Your Own Version. You know how they get hot artists to do a cover version of past hits and then you all go on an album together?”
“I know what it is, Craig. I’m not a fucking idiot.”
“Of course you do… Anyway, they called and since you’re going to be taking all that time off, I organised for them to record you tonight and they’ll play it during your down time. I need you at the studio, like, half an hour ago.”
I glance at the time on the dashboard and that’s when it hits me. I just took off in Lisa’s car. Shit.
“Marcus?” Craig prompts. “Can you get here or not?”
I shake my head, realising that Lisa has really managed to get under my skin. I can’t believe we were just arguing. And over what? Fuck. I have no frigging clue.
“Marcus?” Craig repeats, a little more insistently this time.
"I'm here. Relax. I'm here. I just don't understand why the hell you're booking shit for me without asking first. My schedule was supposed to be clear all weekend.”
“Yeah mate. I know it's clear that's why I booked it. You didn't put in the calendar you were busy, and as far as Karen knew, you were free and clear, so we booked it. Listen, I get that you’re tired. But, you’re not on your break yet, Marcus. There’s still work to do, and you need to be ready when and if you’re needed.”
I clench my jaw, annoyed that my life isn’t mine. “Fine. I’m on my way.”
I disconnect the call before he gets the chance to say anything else and restart the car. I'll have to get someone to deliver Lisa's car back to her once I arrive at the studio. I just hope she isn't too pissed at me for taking off in it.
Suddenly, I release a short burst of laughter as I realise that this is probably the first time I've actually cared what somebody thought about me. I actually care about how this woman feels. Jesus, I promised her friendship. I'm not sure how I'm going to make that work…
***
Lisa
“Here you go,” Sandra says, as she climbs out of her car and holds my spare keys in front of her face, jingling them like they're a musical instrument. Her head turns to Marcus's car parked at the curb outside my house and her eyes widen “Wow. Who owns the Porsche?"
I reach out and take the keys from her fingers. "I'll tell you over a coffee inside.”
Following behind me, she keeps looking over her shoulder at the car. “It’s a bloody nice car. You wouldn’t catch me leaving it parked on the street like that. I’d be petrified that someone would steal it.”
I don’t comment. I just move inside and make small talk about how her weekend is progressing so far, as I switch on the coffee machine to warm up and open the pantry to find the coffee beans.
“It’s been ok. I went out with that guy I met in the lift last week. He was nice enough…”
“You met a guy in an elevator? You didn’t tell me about that?”
“Seriously? I can’t believe I didn’t tell you about it. It was hilarious, so I had really high hopes about this guy being a lot of fun. Basically, I was running late for work, so I was the only one in the elevator. Just as the doors are about to shut, this guy hits the button and makes them open again. When he gets in, I’m thinking, ‘yeah, this guy’s pretty cute. A little bit of designer stubble, decent looking body, nice eyes’ and it turns out I was openly ogling… Anyway, he notices me looking and looks at me, then just says ‘hi’ so I said, ‘Oh my god. Can you see me?’ – you know like I’m a ghost or something… I expected him to just look at me like I’m crazy and ignore me but he didn’t.”
“What did he do?” I ask, becoming engrossed in her story.
“He pulled my hair!” she laughs. “He reached out and tugged at a piece of my hair and said ‘yep’. And he timed it perfectly too, because next thing the lift pings and he gets off without saying anything else.”
“Ok. So how did you end up going out with him then?”
“Oh, I saw him leaving the building at lunch time and chased him down. We just went for drinks after work on Friday. His name is Brad. How funny is that? Who is called ‘Brad’ these days?”
“Him I guess?”
“Yeah him. Anyway, it was all right. There’s a tiny bit of a spark but I don’t know… I don’t feel that… thing… you know? That pain you get in your guts when you’re around someone?”
I take a deep breath and nod. “Yeah. I can see how that’s important.”
As I carry the coffees, I incline my head toward the kitchen table to get her to follow me instead of staying sitting on one of the stools at my bench top.
She settles in the chair across from me and takes a sip of her coffee. “So… that’s my weekend so far. What’s been happening with you? Are you going to tell me who owns that Porsche now?”
“Yeah, of course I am. It um… belongs to…” I start, only to get interrupted by the ding-dong of my doorbell. The noise sets Perry barking at the backdoor. “Um… one minute.”
I hear Sandra get up and go to the back of the house to let Perry inside as I answer the front door. “Yes?” I ask as I open the door to an older woman, a good foot shorter than I am, stylishly dressed and made up, her dyed blonde hair coiffed back and held neatly by a metallic clip.
“Lisa Russell?” she asks, and I have this feeling that she’s about to hand me an envelope and say ‘you’ve just been served’ so I hesitate with my answer. “I’m Mr Bailey’s assistant. I’m here to return your car and pick up his.” She holds out the keys to my car for me.
“Oh, thank you. I don’t have his keys though,” I tell her, taking my car keys from her and looking over her shoulder to see my car parked behind Marcus’s.
“That’s fine. I have his keys. Thank you for your time,” she says with a smile as she turns to leave.
“Wait,” I call out suddenly, causing her to stop and turn to me.
“Yes?” she asks, her face the picture of serene patience.
“Um… is he ok?”
“Of course he is,” she smiles.
“So… he’s not angry or anything?”
“Should he be angry?”
“Oh… I just gave him a bit of a serve. That’s why he took off with my car. He had the shits with me.”
I see a grin tease the corner of her mouth. “He’s fine. Marcus is the kind of man who needs a good ‘serve’ occasionally.” She gives me a wink. “It’s how I’ve kep
t my job, I’m sure.”
As I thank her and close the door, I turn around to see Sandra looking at me with her mouth open and her expression… hurt.
“Marcus Bailey? That was Marcus Bailey’s car out there? I thought you said nothing was going on between you two. I thought you said ‘no’ and that was the end of it?”
“I’m sorry. It’s not what you think. I’m not dating him,” I flounder, trying to rescue the situation, somehow. I had hoped to break it to her easy and assure her that we were only friends.
“Then why would you hide it?”
“I wasn’t hiding it. I never lied. I just didn’t understand what was going on. He showed up at my house three weekends in a row and we’ve hung out a couple of times. I’ve made it very clear that nothing more is going to happen between us,” I assure her.
“So he’s definitely interested in you? You’re just saying no?”
“No. I don’t know. It’s just really complicated right now. I don’t think this is anything that’s going to last. He’ll go on tour and forget all about me…” I’m rambling. I knew she was hung up on him, and I hate that I’m upsetting her right now.
“So you’re ok with that? You’re ok with being just another girl he throws away? Didn’t you learn anything from my encounter with him?”
“No… I don’t know… it’s just… we’re just friends,” I argue.
“I don’t think a man like Marcus Bailey can do ‘just friends’ Lisa. I spent a whole weekend with him. He made me feel special and then he just disappeared and moved on to the next girl. It’s what he does. How can you allow that in your life?”
“I’m not allowing that in my life. He just pushed his way in! I’m totally out of control in this entire… I don’t know what it is – thing!”
“And what happens if this ‘thing’” she says, using her fingers to quote the word, “turns into something more? What are we going to do? Sit together and trade stories about how hot it is when he does certain things in bed?”
“No. It’s not like that. I haven’t even touched the man.” Suddenly, my face burns with discomfort. It’s just hit home with me how many women there are out there with that kind of information. The thought actually sours my stomach and I sit down to stop myself from becoming dizzy. “We had a fight today anyway. I doubt he’ll want anything to do with me after I yelled at him anyway. So you don’t have to worry,” I tell her quietly, resting my head in my hands.
Perry comes over to me and places his head on my thigh, lifting his eyes up to look at me with as much concern as a dog can muster. I sit back and let him jump up on the couch next to me.
Sandra kneels down in front of me and places her hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, Leis. I know I must sound crazy right now. I have no right to tell you whom you can and can’t see. I just… I want you to be careful ok? Just remember who he is. I know you don’t pay any attention to the who’s who of this world, but being a guy like Marcus – it means something… you know? I’m obviously not the only one he used and left. Just don’t become one yourself.”
I place my hand on top of hers and swallow down the lump in my throat. She doesn’t know much about my past either. She doesn’t know who my ex was and she doesn’t know who my parents are. I changed my name when things ended with Jonathan. I didn’t need that embarrassment following me around forever. Especially the article where my father spoke about how disappointed he was that I didn’t understand the industry. That probably hurt more than anything Jonathan did… When Marcus searched my current name, he didn’t find any photos online. If he searched my real name, however, he’d find plenty and very few of them show me in a good light.
You see, I’ve been hiding who my family is for years. My father is probably one of the most recognisable names in Australia’s music industry. I’m sure that being his daughter is what made Jonathan interested in me. And the whole experience taught me how fake fame is, and how much I wanted to be really far away from it.
Everything was going along just fine until I agreed to do a favour for a friend and Marcus Bailey entered my life. If I get seen with him, then my quiet life could be over. I don’t know if I’ll be able to successfully disappear again.
Now, more than ever, I realise I need to keep my resolve. But this time, I think I need to make Perry keep his too. Marcus Bailey needs to stay away, or I’m just going to be hurt, humiliated and exploited all over again.
Chapter 8
Marcus
“Thanks man. I knew you’d do Dire Straits justice. That was an epic cover,” the producer says, as he shakes my hand when the recording is over.
I’ve already done the short interview with the DJ and I was given a short amount of time to prepare my cover version of Dire Straits Romeo and Juliet. I was familiar with the song anyway, but the trick is making the song my own and not just singing an exact replica.
As annoyed as I was when this got sprung on me, I have to say that I’ve actually had a pretty good time. I remember listening to Triple K when Theo and I first started out. It was a big dream to be asked on here to do Your Own Version, and now I’m here. Just me. I can’t help but listen to the niggling voice in the back of my mind that is telling me it would have been better with Theo.
To be honest, this whole experience would have been better if I had hit it big with Matiari. But unfortunately, that’s just not how it worked out, and more and more, I find I’m asking myself if I even deserve this life. Then I remember how miserable I am, and I realise – yes, after what I did to Matiari on stage and after the way I’ve treated my family and my friends… yeah, I do deserve this. Every shitty moment and fake smile – I deserve it all.
“Thanks for having me on, and thanks for recording this early. I know you usually do this live. I really appreciate your understanding and all.”
“Hey man, we all need a break every now and then.” He claps me good-naturedly on the shoulder. “Listen, there’s a bunch of us going out next weekend to see a few up and coming bands play. I’m sure you have some sort of big plans, but it would be great if you could come along and lend your support to the little guys.”
I can see he doesn’t expect me to say yes, but honestly, I wouldn’t mind going to a small gig. It’s probably just what I need to remind me where I came from.
“Yeah. Actually, I think that would be a lot of fun.”
“Awesome.” He nods, sounding cool but looking a little surprised as he pulls the flyer for the gig out of a pile of papers on a nearby desk. “We’ll probably get there around ten after the dinner service finishes. We’ll be up on the Mezzanine level. Do you want me to tell the door guys you’re coming?”
“No, I’ll go in the same as everyone else. I’ll find you.” I hold the flyer up. “See you next week at ten.”
We do one of those hand clap, back slap things that guys like to do and I head out of the studio to find Karen sitting out in reception waiting for me.
She holds my car keys out to me. “She’s worried that you’re angry with her,” she says as she drops the key in my outstretched hand.
“I’m not,” I tell her, and it’s true. I’m not angry – right now, I’m just confused as all hell. I don’t understand what’s happening. We just had a fight over what seemed to be nothing. I don’t get it. I don’t get it at all.
“You like this one, huh?” she asks, reaching out to adjust the collar of my leather jacket as if she’s my mother.
I shrug one shoulder. “I guess.” I walk outside with her to make sure she gets safely to her own car. “I have no idea what I’m doing here, Karen. I just feel… all weird. I don’t know, maybe I’ve just been working too hard.”
“Maybe you should give her a call and let her know you’re not angry?”
I lean forward and open her car door for her before giving her a friendly kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for your help today.”
“I’ll make sure you aren’t dragged to anything last minute without calling your first,” she says. “Craig was
just very insistent that you needed to do this ASAP.”
“It’s cool. It turned out well. I’ll let you know when I’m busy next time.”
As she climbs in, I shut the door and step back as she starts up the car and exits the parking lot. I stand there for a moment, watching the red of her taillights as she turns and drives down the street and out of sight.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and wonder if I should call Lisa. I really messed up this afternoon when I took off with her car. I should have kept my cool. I should have stayed and tried to find out what was making her so angry… or maybe I should have just stayed away in the first place.
She keeps saying that I’m forcing the friendship on her. Maybe I am… but I have a hard time believing she isn’t feeling this too. There’s something there, and I really don’t want to let it go.
Lisa
Sandra left not long after we had our ‘discussion’ about Marcus, and I’ve spent the rest of the evening wondering if I should call him. Then I realise he’s probably busy at some party.
Instead I keep composing different text messages to him without actually sending them. Some of them have said ‘sorry’ for blowing up. Others have read more like a break up letter.
The latest one simply says – Call me plz. Lisa x
Initially it had three x’s there, but I’ve deleted two, feeling worried that he might think I was trying to say that I’m X-rated or something… Now, I’m just staring at it, wondering if I should change the x to a smiley face or something. I don’t want to send him something that is going to give him the wrong impression, but I don’t want to send him something that’s going to make him feel like if he calls me I’m just going to yell at him again….
Shit. I’m over thinking this. I know. I’m just struggling here. I need to talk to him and tell him that while I think he’s a great guy, I just can’t see him anymore. I think it will be best for both of us.
A Beautiful Rock Page 7
