Rock Dirty (Rock Candy #2)

by Virna DePaul

  Again, I knew next to nothing about shoes, but I was an artist too. I knew enough to know when someone was pushing the boundaries of what people had done before. Nikki hadn’t pushed boundaries. Nope. She’d pole vaulted over them and that was amazing. As I sipped my complimentary champagne in one of the alcoves of her new shop Chez Lorenz, I tried to be patient but was plain antsy to tell her how much I admired her.

  I made another lap around the boutique, and finally maneuvered my way through the crowd. It took a lot of quick turns and snaking around other people, but I managed. It was times like these I wish I’d paid attention to French in high school. I didn’t even know the word for ‘sorry,’ and as I got glares from most of the models and design community, I figured a quick “my bad” in the native language might have soothed things over more.

  Finally, I saw Nikki.

  And not surprisingly, she looked hot.

  She had on a sleek black dress that hugged every curve, a thick diamond necklace around her throat, and heels that she’d clearly designed herself that had to be close to seven inches and covered in gold leaf. Her eyes were highlighted by smoky eye shadow and rimmed with kohl, and I could have lost myself here, in this moment, just staring at her. She had to be under a lot of stress. I had a small inclination from her weird rant earlier how much she needed to impress her mom so that the feared Anna Lorenz wouldn’t insult her. Mothers with poison pens? Ouch. However, she looked cool and calm, if a bit removed from everything around her.

  Reaching out, I placed a hand on her shoulder. She startled and almost dropped her drink on the marble tile below. Then she smiled and she literally took my breath away.

  I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I was just coming over to offer some support. You did an amazing job. These shoes should be in a gallery. I mean, come on, they’re like works of art.”

  “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say.”

  She said it automatically, as if she was used to blowing off compliments about her work, and I frowned. Before I could say anything, however, her eyes darted around the room, and I realized she was looking for someone.

  When I took a step back, figuring I should give her some space, her gaze met mine. She licked her lips and regret filled her beautiful eyes. “I’m sorry for being distracted, Tucker. I just have a lot more people to talk to. Divine is supposed to be here as well as William Cooper. I was hoping they’d come as a show of fellow support.”

  A bright light flashed, temporarily blinding me. Blinking, I got my bearings and noticed the photographer in the corner. She was clicking fast and furious, and I’d become accustomed to red carpets and even trying to eat out at lunch with my friends and having a thousand lights go off in my face.

  It was annoying but it was the trade-off for being famous, just was how things were.

  I looked back at Nikki to see if I could do anything to help her out, to relieve the pressure of the crowd until the other designers got here or she felt she could take a break. She wasn’t paying attention to me, though. Her gaze was fixed on the short blond woman with the huge Nikon around her neck. Nikki balled her hands up at her sides and glared at the photog and if looks could kill…

  “Can you not do that right now,” she snapped, moving past me and standing nose to nose with the photographer.

  The blonde huffed and set her camera aside so that it hung from its strap over her chest. “You know, your mother is so much more accommodating for the press. I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re nothing like her. She’s pure class. You’re not. Even your ex-boyfriend saw that, which is why it didn't take long for him to leave your bed for hers—”

  “Hey—” I began, jolted out of my malaise, just as Nikki’s hand shot out.

  The slap rang out hard and fast.

  Despite everything, it left my jaw on the floor. I knew from Google that Nikki had provided fodder for tabloid stories the same way other heiresses had and, okay, even certain rock bands that had trashed a hotel in Memphis. Still, she was older and a successful designer now, and our little dance aside, she hadn’t given me a glimpse of that wilder, impetuous nature.

  “Say that again,” Nikki snarled. She would have lunged for the blonde again if an older man, one with a thick salt and pepper mustache, hadn’t held her back. He took control of the situation, barking out something terse and commanding in French. Then security was dragging the photographer, who was rubbing her slightly swollen cheek, out the door. No one said anything for a very long time, and I was surrounded by a room full of oppressive silence with all of us looking at Nikki as the older man led her away.

  A man beside me in a suit that had red pinstripes just shook his head and leaned into my ear. “Is that your date? You’d best run,” he whispered theatrically.

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me, guy. I’m trying to be nice. Nikki Lorenz can barely go five minutes without making a scene. This is the same stunt she always pulls.”

  Still stunned and not sure what the hell to say, I pushed past him and started toward Nikki, but the older guy with the greying mustache, the one who had held her back from doing more damage to her reputation, led her toward a room in the back. The dude was good-sized, probably about 6’3 or 6’4 and broad shouldered. He looked like he was the head of security, but with the way he had his hand on the back of her shoulders, I wasn’t sure. That could be a more intimate gesture, and I was scared that it was.

  Besides, the guy was staring at me like he wanted to do the lunging and tackle me.

  Whatever. After he and Nikki disappeared, I decided to hang back and wait for her. She appeared ten minutes later, all fake smiles as she worked the room. In every other direction but mine, that is. I gave her twenty minutes of this, then walked up to her as she was talking to the mustache guy.

  “Hey, Nikki. Are you okay?”

  She turned toward me with another smile, but wouldn’t look me in the eyes. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine, Tucker. Look, I’m sorry, but I have a lot of important people to talk to. Thanks for coming, but we can catch up some other time, okay?”

  She finally looked at me when she asked the question, and as I stared at her, I saw nothing of the warm and passionate woman she’d been in New York and her friend Claude’s apartment. “Nikki—” I began, my words cutting off when Grey Mustache put his arm around her waist.

  And instead of pulling away, she leaned into him.

  In fucking front of me. And it was clear by her words that she’d forgotten our plans for afterward.

  What the fuck? There is too much drama here.

  I didn’t know who this Nikki was, but I didn’t like her. She was clearly in her element, sucking up to her sycophantic fashion zombies and with that Incredible Hulk guy beside her. I didn’t need to be treated like some kicked puppy or piece of garbage she wasn’t interested in. Disgusted, I gave her and the annoying dude one last look and took off.

  I was in the most romantic city in the world. I could do better than this.

  * * *

  I went back to my hotel room, changed, then headed out. I walked for hours. Finally, I headed toward Notre Dame.

  I wasn’t religious. I mean, yeah, I’d been raised Christian and still celebrated Christmas with my family but that was more about connecting with loved ones and, let’s face it, the presents. Still, Notre Dame wasn’t too far from my hotel, so after changing I headed over there. It still had tourists milling around it. I looked up and was amazed by how large it was. I’d seen it on TV and in movies, but seeing it on a screen wasn’t enough to prepare me for the way the spires towered over me or the fact even the front doors were taller than me twice over.

  Out front stood a crowd of girls. Maybe they were on a class trip or, hell, maybe they were sorority sisters who were enjoying a vacation on their parents. I tried to slip past them. Usually pulling down a ball cap helped keep fans from mobbing me if I wasn’t in the mood.

  This was not one of those cases.

  A tall drink of water with legs that went on for
days and a high blond ponytail squealed first and pointed to me. That was it. It was like some kind of call, like when you see birds in nature specials screeching out over the rain forest.

  “It’s Tucker Benning,” she screamed, and all the girls echoed her reaction with high pitched shrieks.

  I just barely stopped myself from wincing and smiled. I played the gracious rock star I always had. Hell, even if Liam eventually got his head out of his ass, we were going to need all the goodwill we could get because a hiatus for three months or a year in this industry? Everything moved so fast that we might as well be starting over from fucking scratch.

  After I posed for a ton of pictures, the tall blonde was still standing with me. Her sisters or friends or whatever had entered into the church proper to light candles, but she clearly had another mission in mind and with the way she was licking her lips, it would probably be something she’d have to confess afterward. Normally, the way she was working her bottom lip with her teeth, the soft heat of her breath on my neck? All of that would have led me to invite her back to my place. But right now I wasn’t even half-hard.

  What the hell is wrong with me? Nikki’s just a girl; there’s a hundred others like her in this city.

  That’s what I tried telling myself. But I knew it wasn’t true. I had yet to meet someone as wild and as enticing as Nikki Lorenz. So even with this other girl practically mounting me right here and asking if I wanted to grab a drink, I couldn’t say yes. God help me, but I wanted that fiery redhead, and even if Nikki had more issues than I realized and, possibly, a boyfriend or lover in that grey-haired guy, she was worth fighting for.

  I was going to go back to her apartment, hash shit out and make her mine.

  Squeezing the blonde’s hands, I shook my head and offered her all the truth I could. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m seeing someone.”

  It didn’t take too long to arrive at Nikki’s apartment. I wasn’t sure what I was going to find when I knocked on that door. Hell, was grey-haired guy the friend—Claude, she’d said—who owned this place? Looked that way. Because after I knocked on the door, there he was: the massive brick wall-come-protector who’d stepped in and helped Nikki while I’d been standing there with my jaw hanging open after she’d slapped that photographer. Narrowing my eyes, I stood up to my full height. It meant the behemoth still had four inches on me, which I hated.

  “Can I help you?” he asked in English. His words were accented, but it wasn’t French, and I wasn’t sure where he was from.

  “I’m looking for Nikki.”

  When he just stared at me, I snorted. “Dude, you know me. I mean you don’t know me-know me, but you know I was at the opening. I talked to her in front of you. You know that I’m a friend of hers.”

  “Yes, ‘friend’ being an operative word,” he said. “I’m Hermes.”

  “Great.” Like I gave a flying fuck. “Is she here?”

  “Dominique,” he said, enunciating her name with slow care, “is busy having a late dinner with Divine. I’m sorry but she’s too busy for the likes of you.”

  “Yeah,” I said, shoving my hands in my jeans pockets. Looked like Nikki’s opening had been a success, after all. She’d wanted support from a celebrity designer and she’d obviously gotten it.

  And it was just as obvious that Hermes here was a friend who’d been invited to wait for her return. I’d only known Nikki less than twenty-four hours, so I wasn’t sure why the thought of the things she and Hermes would do together once she got back hurt so damn much.

  It’s my fucking pride, is all, I told myself. And regret that I’d passed on what that blonde had been offering me in front of Notre Dame. Granted, I could go back. See if she was still there.

  But doing so seemed like too much effort.

  On the other hand, it was no effort at all to head back to my hotel and drown my sorrows at the hotel’s bar. I think I chugged down my tenth shot of Vodka before I passed out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Nikki

  Last night was such a wash.

  Despite the drama, I schmoozed with my benefactors, played nice with the models, and charmed Divine into taking me to dinner. The headlines and fashion blogs were mostly focusing on the triumph of my designs but almost all of them offered a parting shot about me slapping the photographer.

  The nicer ones swept it under the rug or mentioned it as an aside.

  Some of the more vindictive tabloid outlets were much worse. The photog hadn’t had permission to be there; security had asked for a permit after her comments and found nothing valid, but only one outlet pointed that out. And she’d obviously bated me with that crack about my ex-lover dumping me for my mom.

  Yet I was the bad girl.

  Maybe I always would be, and it was all my own fault.

  My mother had called. I’d seen her name on my cell phone caller I.D. There were at least five voice messages I knew would be dripping with her usual disdain and censure. It was the last thing I wanted to hear, especially when I had a show coming up and my reputation was already in tatters.

  I couldn’t help but remember how freeing it had felt the day before, standing on the apartment balcony, feeling that rush of adrenaline and danger as I hesitated on the edge.

  And God help me—I wanted to do it again.

  But even more than that, I wanted Tucker.

  Jesus, Tucker.

  I’d been distracted by the photographer yesterday, and, even before then, I’d been on edge. He’d been so nice. He’d complimented me. Again. And again, I had blown his compliments off. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate them but I had years and years of my mother’s criticism ringing in my ears. It was easy to convince myself that I was worthless or a disappointment, the source of all shame for my family. After all, I’d heard that very message on a loop for years. It was something that stayed with you, no matter how hard you fought to find your self-confidence. It was crazy, but it was almost as if the nicer things Tucker said about me, the more convinced I became he was playing me and going to betray me in a way I wouldn’t be able to recover from. But that wasn’t why I’d blown him off at the opening last night.

  No, I’d done that because Hermes had recognized Tucker and told me what a bad idea it was to allow myself to be distracted by a rock star. He’d said my mother was already going to hear about me slapping the photographer, so why make it worse? Part of me had wanted to tell him to fuck off, but the truth was, I had already been embarrassed by my behavior with the photographer and seriously concerned by my balancing act on the balcony earlier. Never mind my mom being pissed that I was hanging around with a rock star. I was more concerned that I was going to drag said rock star down in flames with me, and the truth was, he was too nice a guy to do that.

  I was a mess, one that Tucker didn’t need when he was trying to figure things out with his band. I’d realized that around the time Tucker had kissed my cheek when he’d greeted me at the opening, and everything that had happened afterward had merely cemented that belief.

  Only today, by myself, having had a chance to breathe and calm down, I missed him. I wanted him. Enough to call him even as I ignored the blinking light on my phone that was teasing me about my mother’s (sure to be) vitriolic messages.

  “Yeah,” Tucker’s voice sounded over the phone.

  “Hey,” I said, my voice startled but also edged with joy that he’d actually picked up. Yes, it took him four rings before he actually did it, but he could have sent me straight to voicemail so it had to mean something that he hadn’t. Didn’t it?

  His voice was hesitant on the other end, and I could discern the suspicion in it. “Hi Nikki. What’s up? Because I was just on my way out—”

  “Tucker, I’m sorry about blowing you off last night.”

  Silence.

  “The event and the photographer…all of it set me off. I treated you like shit.”

  More silence.

  “Tucker, will you let me make it up to you?”

  He exh
aled quietly, but the sound screamed his frustration…and his disdain? Panic made my heart beat pick up. Was he going to turn me down? Tell me to take my apology and shove it?

  “Please, Tucker,” I said. “Let me make it up to you.”

  “You don’t have anything to make up to me, Nikki.”

  “Of course I do. I owe you so much. You came to support me at my opening and you didn’t have to, and your reward was me being a neurotic bitch.” When he didn’t argue with me, I winced, then bit my lip. “Look, meet me out at the Pont Neuf. Have you heard of it?”

  “No, but…”

  I held my breath. Please. Please don’t let him blow me off. Please let him give me another chance.

  “But I can Google or, when in doubt, ask Siri,” he finally said. “I’ll figure it out.”

  I let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Good. I’ll see you there. And thank you, Tucker.”

  * * *

  “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” I asked, looking out over the expanse of the Pont Neuf.

  It was the oldest bridge still up in Paris and looked like something out of a castle. It had rounded pillars and was made of cobblestone, resembling something out of a fairy tale. I’d been to Paris more times than I could count. When I’d been younger, Mom had dragged me here almost as often as her Louis Vuitton luggage. Part of me had grown inured to the beauty of the City of Lights. It was where I worked, where I needed to make the right impression. Still, watching the water slip under the bridge and seeing the sights behind me, even the famous tower not too far behind us, I was taken aback again by the beauty of the city. I had a feeling based on his wide eyes and the look of awe on his face that Tucker was taking it all in as well.

  “It’s really something. I bet it’d be even better if we’d come out here at night, seen the city all lit up.”

  I took his hand in mine, grateful when he let me. “I think we can put that on our itinerary. I have to prepare for my show but I’ll try and be accessible. I just have so many last minute decisions to make and I’m terrified. There’s even more pressure than before because my store opening didn’t exactly go off without a hitch.”