Heartstopper

by Lauren Landish

  “That’s the one!” Oliver shouts in elation to the studio engineer, a nerdy looking blond guy with tiger-striped wide-rim glasses sitting beside him in the system room. “You got what you need. Get to work!”

  I tilt my head, watching as Gavin and Oliver start chatting together excitedly while the studio engineer gets his computers together. Scowling, I pull off my headphones and talk into the mic. “What the hell are you two so excited about?”

  I seriously don’t know what these two are up to. They’re nearly buzzing as they come into the studio.

  They both grin at me like a pair of mischievous school boys, not saying a word.

  “Spit it out!” I beg as their smiles become infectious. “Or I’ma make Mindy come up in here and sing Barney.”

  They both laugh at me, but Oliver is the one to speak. “Gavin and I have decided to invest a little in you using what I like to call ‘fuck you money’. Tomorrow, in ten different time slots on the local radio, Heartstopper is going to be played.”

  “Yeah,” adds Gavin. “Not only that, but we’re going to release it on iTunes, Amazon, all that. You don’t need a label to self-publish.”

  I blink, shocked. “You two . . . you’re batshit crazy!” I exclaim heatedly. “You realize this isn’t going to sell shit, right?”

  “Who cares?” Gavin says with a shrug. “This isn’t about the sales.”

  “I care!” I protest. “Guys, I tried iTunes already. I put a whole album on there. It sold exactly one hundred copies, and I suspect five of them were you guys!”

  “Seven,” Gavin says matter-of-factly. “I wanted it to be a round number.”

  “See!” I say. “You prove my point!”

  “Girl, stop with all that fussing. You’re amazing,” Mindy, who’s been out in the hallway and talking with the sound guy, says, coming in. “It’s going on there or so help me God, I’m going to turn into Iggy Azalea and treat you guys to my first rap song.”

  I throw my hands up in immediate surrender. “Oh, hell no. You win!”

  Everyone in the studio laughs and Mindy says, “Girl, I promise you, Leigh’s going to be singing all the lyrics and copying her auntie’s twerk routine by lunch tomorrow.”

  I grin, the first one I’ve had in awhile. It feels unfamiliar on my face—that’s how down I’ve been over the past few days. “Well, someone has to teach your daughter some life skills.”

  Everyone laughs while we close up the studio, turning in the keys to the front desk.

  “Mindy,” I say as we leave the studio. “Wait up.”

  “Sure,” she says, waving Oliver and Gavin on. “You two go. We’ll see you at the hotel.” The guys leave, and she turns to me, smiling. “What’s up?”

  “I can’t go back to my job,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Is it the job or is it Jake?” Mindy asks, and I shrug. She pulls me in for a hug, and I gotta admit, it feels good. “I see. Well, if you find that you can't, why don’t you quit your job and come back home with us?”

  “After what happened, I feel so guilty. I can’t face Jake. I just can’t. Not only because of the club, but it will just be so awkward after what we had going.”

  Mindy nods. “We can help you back on your feet. Hell, I might even have a job for you in the cafe.”

  When I think about it, what is here for me if there’s no Jake? Work is going to be so awkward. I just can’t imagine it. I want to go to Jake, but now I can’t bear to look at him, not after destroying his hard work and his relationship with his sister.

  “I think I might take you up on that offer. Give me the weekend to think about it.”

  Chapter 28

  Jake

  Coming into the office Friday morning, the first thing I do when I get off the elevator is look over at Roxy’s desk.

  Empty.

  Again.

  I sigh and go into my office, setting my briefcase down on my desk before slumping into my chair. I rub at my temples. It’s only eight forty-five and I’ve already got a headache. I know why, too. Sure, Sophie’s talking to me and the club’s cleaned out now, but there’s an aching hole in my chest. The same hole that’s in a cubicle just outside my office.

  Elena drops off something for me to look over. I don’t really give a damn. A familiar figure goes by the office, and I look up, but it’s just Hannah. I can’t stand this any longer. I pick up my phone. “Elena?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Have Hannah Fowler report to my office immediately, please.”

  “Of course, sir,” Elena says in that tone of voice that says Great, he’s doing something crazy again. FML.

  Still, Elena’s a professional, and fewer than five minutes later, Hannah knocks on my office door. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  I nod at the chair. “Relax, Hannah. I think you know what this is about. How is she doing? I haven’t seen her all week and she isn’t answering my texts. I miss her.”

  “There isn’t much I can tell you,” Hannah says. “Mindy dragged her out of the apartment Wednesday, and she hasn’t been back since. Honestly, I’m sort of glad she’s out for a while. Her room was getting funky.”

  I nod, and it breaks my heart to hear that. “Do you have any idea what she’s doing?”

  Hannah shakes her head. “Sorry. She sent me a text last night saying to keep my ears open and that she’d have more information for me today, but that’s it.”

  I swallow, leaning back. “Okay. Well, if you see her, talk to her, whatever . . . tell her I’d like to get in touch?”

  “Of course,” Hannah says. “Will that be all?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I say, when suddenly, my office door opens, and Elena’s there.

  “Turn on the radio!” Elena says, running over to the old-fashioned FM radio that came with my office. “You have to hear this!”

  She switches on the stereo, punching in 97.3, the local pop station. She cranks the volume and turns, giving me a look as the DJ goes on. “ . . . so after the recent fire, Roxy decided she needed to say she was sorry for the incident. And as a thanks to her fans from Club Jasmine, here’s the song that she was going to debut a week ago. Heartstopper.”

  I jump to my feet as the background track that I’d heard only once before starts bumping and thumping on my stereo. Seconds later, Roxy’s pure, sensual voice fills my office.

  It’s been too long, gotta get out

  Hittin up the new spot with my girl

  Lookin’ sexy as hell, workin’ the floor

  Hoping to give this place a whirl

  Nothin’ working so far, I’m getting desperate

  I can’t stand this creep, where is my Superman?

  He’s late, but I don’t give a damn.

  One glance in his eyes, and I know what I need.

  Gimme mouth to mouth, because he’s a total Heartstopper.

  Heartstopper, Heartstopper

  Can you feel it in my chest?

  Heartstopper, Heartstopper,

  Fingers on my breast

  Your touch is electric,

  Has been from the start

  Give it to me baby,

  Or I’ma stop your heart.

  We head to the back, his lips on my neck

  My knees shaking, my eyes rolling back

  I feel like I’m drugged, everything’s a blur,

  And I can’t believe when I grab his . . .

  The bed’s right there, he pushes me down,

  I bite my lip, I’m not like this,

  But I won’t stop, can’t stop,

  I have to have his kiss.

  Heartstopper, Heartstopper

  Can you feel it in my chest?

  Heartstopper, Heartstopper,

  Fingers on my breast

  Your touch is electric,

  Has been from the start

  Give it to me baby,

  Or I’ma stop your heart.

  He’s looking at me, and I know he’s feeling the same

  This isn’t a dance, this is
n’t just one night.

  Somehow it’s become more than a game,

  He pulls off his shirt, I can’t believe the sight.

  I’m leaving town tomorrow, I can’t stay the night

  Have places to go, catching an early flight

  If you want me to stay, you gotta come correct

  My heart’s almost yours, take that final step

  Heartstopper, Heartstopper

  Can you feel it in my chest?

  Heartstopper, Heartstopper,

  Fingers on my breast

  Your touch is electric,

  Has been from the start

  Give it to me baby,

  Or I’ma stop your heart.

  The final notes fade away, and I stare at the radio as smooth silence drifts over the radio for a few seconds before the DJ comes back on. “Wow. You know, I’ve been in the radio game for a long time, going on twenty years now, and I haven’t heard a song this hot from a new singer in—well hell, I’m going to get in trouble with my bosses, but fuck it, let’s play that every hour!”

  “That’s Roxy?” Elena says. “I mean, I heard she was a singer but . . .”

  Suddenly, my cellphone rings and I pick it up. It’s Nathan. “Nathan, not now.”

  “What the fuck do you mean, not now?” Nathan says in my ear, sounding as breathless as the rest of us. “Roxy was just on the radio.”

  “I know,” I gasp, looking around my office. My body is burning, my chest tight and my stomach twisting. I know what I need to do. “But I need to think.”

  “Look, just listen up for a moment,” Nathan says, laughing. “I just got off the phone with the insurance company. They got back to me, and they’re cutting us a check. All of it, full policy value.”

  “That’s great, Nathan, but right now, I need you to do something else,” I say, grabbing my suit coat and pulling it on. Elena and Hannah are still staring at me, trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing. “Is there anything we can do to escalate the cleanup? Triple the amount of workers if we need to, get the club cleaned and patched up. If we can’t do that, then we’re doing this thing in the fucking parking lot in front of the fountain. That still works, right?”

  “Uh, It works, but what are you talking about?” Nathan asks.

  “I’ve got a woman I need to win back. And she’s got a concert to put on. Roxy’s going to sing Heartstopper live for her fans. No matter what.”

  I hang up my phone and head for my office door. As I reach the handle, Elena calls out. “Sir!”

  “What?” I ask, turning back.

  “There is a board meeting in forty-five minutes,” Elena says. “You’re supposed to be there.”

  I button my suit coat, nodding, and head back, grabbing my laptop and briefcase before I turn back around. “I forgot, but I’m still leaving. Tell them I had something very important to attend to. If they don’t accept it . . . well, they can fire me.”

  Chapter 29

  Roxy

  “And now, that local artist who’s shooting up the charts. She’s reached number twenty-five on the iTunes download charts already . . . here’s Roxy with Heartstopper!”

  I look over at the radio, shaking my head as I reach over and turn it off. While I’m amazed and shocked that my song has gained so much traction, I don’t need to listen to it again. I suspect that most of the buzz in downloads is from locals who saw me at the club, but it still feels good.

  Mr. Felix is sitting in my lap, purring. It helps, even though I still feel a little down. Looking around the apartment, it’s hard. In packing my stuff up, this place just doesn’t look at all like the apartment I’ve shared with Hannah.

  Some of the things are the same, the voice in my head says. This sofa is the place you and Jake first had sex.

  I run my hands along the cushion, sighing. Setting Felix aside, I glance at the clock. It’s nearly five thirty now, and Hannah said she’d be home around six. I promised her that I’d get some delivery Chinese food for us to share. I feel like hell, running out on her, but she said that she’s already got people lined up to share rent with her. I think she’s trying to make me feel better about it, but I hope it’s true.

  There’s a knock at the door, and I set Felix aside. Going over, I look through the peephole to see that it’s Mindy, and I open up. “Hey, Min, what’s up?”

  “What’s up?” she asks, grinning. “I just heard you on the radio again, and you ask what’s up? I see you’ve got the jaded pop star act down already.”

  I smile slightly, letting Mindy in. She looks around, whistling. “Wow, you got packed quickly. Is Hannah upset?”

  “No, she says she understands, and we’re going to have some girl time later. I mean, I still haven’t turned in my resignation to the office. I’ve got another three days of vacation time built up.”

  “That’s good,” Mindy says. “So where is your stuff, anyway?”

  “I packed up what I’m going to take. It’s in my room. Feels strange to be living out of a suitcase again. Well, partially. I gave Hannah a lot of my office clothes. If I ever have to put on a professional pencil skirt and those damn heels again, I’m going to scream.”

  Mindy chuckles, nodding. “The advantages of owning a cafe. I wear New Balances to work most days. The only heels I have I wear when Oliver and I—”

  “TMI!”

  Mindy laughs. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Where?” I ask. “I mean, I promised Hannah dinner!”

  “Send her a text. She’ll understand. And if she is upset, tell her Oliver Steele will pay for her to go out to dinner tomorrow anywhere in town.”

  I can’t help it. I smirk. “More of his ‘fuck you’ money?”

  “Something like that. Come on, the whole family’s waiting for you.”

  I wake up with a start, surprised that I dozed off. Part of it was that I’ve been getting over my depression, and part of it has been that my body clock is still so screwed up. I blink, looking around. “Where are we?”

  Mindy, who’s driving, glances over. “Ha, you don’t recognize it?”

  I sit up some more, looking out the side windows. Unfortunately, Mindy’s got some of those dark tinted windows and it takes me a minute. “We’re heading downtown. I thought you said we were getting together with everyone. The hotel’s out near the airport, right?”

  “Right both times, but I didn’t say that the rest of the fam was at the hotel.”

  I’m immediately suspicious, my shock growing as we make a right turn and I see Club Jasmine. “What the hell are we doing here?”

  “Trust me,” Mindy says, parking out front. The amount of work that’s been done is amazing. There’s still some scorch marks on the front, but all of the fire smell is gone. Mindy leads me up the steps, opening the door. It’s dark inside, and I blink, trying to adjust to the gloom. “Well, here we are.”

  “Mindy, this is so not cool,” I complain. “I mean, why remind me . . .”

  “She’s baaaa-aaaaaack!” an electronic voice booms out of the darkness, and suddenly, stage lights blossom. The floor is still a mostly scarred wreck, but they’ve swept and cleared out an area in the middle, where the bare concrete is surrounded by lights.

  Hannah steps out of the shadows, grinning. “Our guest of honor has arrived. Have a seat.”

  “Mindy, what is going on?” I ask as the lights come up and I see Mom, Grandma, Brianna . . .

  “Hit it!” Hannah says as Mindy leads me over to a chair and sits me down. Hannah moves out of the light as bumping dance music starts up. There’s a silly little curtain, nothing more than a rope with a sheet hung over it, and Hannah giggles as she gets on the mic again. “Welcome to the Club Jasmine Gentlemen’s Revue!”

  Suddenly, the curtain twitches, and Bertha comes running out, yapping furiously. “Goddammit, Mary Jo, if you don’t stop dragging that thing with you everywhere, I’m not going with you anywhere anymore!”

  Mom gets up and chases Bertha down while I
lean over to Mindy. “What the hell is this?”

  “Just enjoy. Think of it as more fuck you money,” Mindy says, patting my shoulder. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”

  Mom gets Bertha under control and sits down, grumbling to Grandma. “You know, you’ve had pets too.”

  “Whatever,” Grandma says. “Bring on the flesh parade!”

  “Up first,” Hannah says, trying not to laugh, “is our very own superstar, former All-Pro running back, Gavin ‘Anaconda’ Adams!”

  Brianna, of course, claps the loudest as Gavin emerges, clad in what I can only call a stripper’s version of a Navy uniform. Skintight white pants are underneath his cheap white tunic as he adjusts the bill of his cap. Lifting a microphone to his lips, the music changes, and I groan.

  Gavin starts to sing Up Where We Belong by Joe Cocker, and even Brianna has to clap her hands over her ears.

  “I love you, but never again!” she screams as Gavin shrugs and drops his microphone. Ripping off his tunic top, the music changes into a techno/club remix of the classic Joe Cocker song, and he gives his wife a lap dance that leaves Brianna in a fit of laughter before he sashays offstage.

  Mindy’s laughing her ass off as Brianna wipes her forehead with a hand towel. She looks over at Mindy and me, chuckling. “I didn’t marry him for his singing.”

  Hannah chuckles, shaking her head. “And now, for our second act . . . Oliver Steele!”

  Oliver comes out, and my jaw drops as he comes out dressed in perhaps the most ridiculous outfit I’ve ever seen him in, a leather set of hot pants and a motorcycle vest. “What the hell do you and he get up to?” Grandma asks. “That sure as hell ain’t what I expected!”

  Mindy’s beet red as Oliver picks up the mic and starts singing Do You Really Want To Hurt Me? As he sings, he dances, and he’s even worse than Gavin, Mindy blushing and laughing uproariously as he caterwauls his way through the song. “Brad would love this!” I laugh as Oliver peels off his vest to show off his chiseled torso.

  Mindy’s flushed herself as Oliver retreats behind the curtain, and Hannah takes a minute to laugh. “Don’t quit your day jobs. Either of you.”