Rock Dirty (Rock Candy #2)

by Virna DePaul

  How nuts was she?

  “What are you doing?” Nikki snapped, finally breaking free of my grasp but simply backing away instead of trying to hop back onto the railing again.

  I wasn’t sure if my heart could have taken the stress if she had.

  “What am I doing?” I barked back. I’d just saved her from hospital bills and a lot of broken bones if she’d hit the water at the wrong angle. Why was she so mad? She should be thanking me. If she’d nosedived, then it would have ruined her chances with her show and so much more. “You’re the one trying to jump off a bridge. What the hell, Nikki?”

  She stilled then but her eyes continued to bore into mine. Maybe that was another reason I was so attracted to her. I was used to women who kowtowed to my every wish, ones who just wanted to giggle at the right moments and please me, whatever the fuck that meant. The groupies who wanted just one more night of backstage passes never challenged me. With Nik, I had to work to break through her walls.

  “I wasn’t jumping. I just like to stand and balance on ledges sometimes.”

  “Okay,” I said lamely, even though it was so not okay. My heart was pounding and the adrenaline would be pouring through me for hours to come. When I tried to go to sleep tonight, I’m sure I’d still see Nikki precariously balanced on the railing of a fucking bridge. Fuck, what would have happened if I hadn’t come by? If she’d lost her balance? I just didn’t want to go there even if my mind was playing everything out in 3D.

  Nikki crossed her arms over her chest. “I was a gymnast as a little kid, until I was about nine or ten. I feel better when I balance. I get on the edge of things and it literally changes how I think; it makes me feel stronger and more confident.”

  “And what if you’d slipped?”

  “I wasn’t going to slip.”

  I started to pace. My fingers twitched, and I was jonesing for a cigarette too. That would have to come later. Right now? Right now I just needed Nikki to understand she meant a lot to me, and that playing games like that on the damn Pont Neuf was dangerous. Maybe that bitch Anna Lorenz wouldn’t care if her only daughter was hurt in an accidental fall, but I sure would. “I don’t understand why you’d do this. Is this because of the pressure from your show?”

  She blinked. “No, of course not. I’ve had shows before. Yeah, I know this is my biggest one yet, believe me I know that, but I’m not suicidal. I’m not some crazy bridge jumper. I just needed a minute to think. I wanted to feel like I could really let go. Before you showed up and with the wind through my hair, I did feel like that, totally.”

  “I was keeping you from a back brace,” I countered. “I just don’t buy it. You say this is your shot at having freedom or feeling better, but you were risking your life up there, Nikki. Nothing, not your show, certainly not the fact your birthday is coming up, is a reason to risk your life!”

  She stiffened, and I knew I’d hit a nerve with her, gotten through at least some of her walls. Her shoulders slumped and the bravado faded from her face. “I—I know that. It’s just, it helps me think.”

  “And?”

  “And, okay, I do feel more pressure than ever. I wasn’t going to just jump and hurt myself, but I was upset and I couldn’t figure out a release.”

  “Why were you upset?”

  She blinked rapidly. “I loaned some of my shoes to a designer to be featured in his show. And…”

  “And what?”

  “Some asshole editor hated my collection, said that it’d be better if the designers stopped humoring me in some backwards bid to please my mom. He said I had no talent, and earlier, Hermes told me my mom was coming to Paris to support me, and she’s never showed up at one of my shows before.”

  “Never?”

  She shook her head, looking for all the world like a vulnerable, scared little girl.

  Fuck her mother, I thought.

  “God, Tucker. I’m more than halfway through my twenties, and I’m trying desperately to be more than a laughing stock. I don’t even know if I’m doing that right or not.”

  “You are doing that. You’re amazing, Nikki.”

  “Well tell that to Francois LeBeau.”

  “Francois LeBeau can fuck off,” I answered, cupping her chin with my hands. “So some snot-nosed ass editor was being catty. He’s probably jealous because your shoes are cool and they look like art. I mean, I don’t know how someone walks in them but heels were never my style. You don’t need everyone’s approval. You can’t have it. No one can.”

  “No, but I need to succeed. I’m not a kid anymore and I’m so sick of being Dominique the Disaster!”

  “It’s going to be okay,” I offered, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her in closer to me. “Look, let’s go to your place and pick up a few things. Or is Hermes still there? Was he waiting for you this morning?”

  She swallowed hard, and looked back at her hands. “He’s mother’s lapdog and her channel to directly spy on me. He has a key and he apparently thinks he can come and go as he pleases.”

  “Then come stay with me.”

  Her head snapped up. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t need to be saved. Contrary to what I said at the airport and what just happened, you’re not riding in here like some white knight.”

  I snorted because the idea was ridiculous. I was far more the devil on someone’s shoulder than the angel, that was for sure. “I’m not trying to save you, just help you. We’ll grab your stuff and we’ll hang at my place. It’ll be alright. You’ll have me there, and if that’s not enough, then hey, there’s room service. You can’t beat that.”

  She chuckled and kissed my cheek. “I guess I can’t.”

  As we headed back to her place, arm-in-arm, I had no idea what I was getting into. A sane man would go back to LA and not make himself the unofficial guardian of a girl who was rapidly turning into a hot mess.

  But I’m me, and I’ve never been overly sane, and Nikki did need my help.

  Unfortunately, I think I lied to her. I think there is a part of me that thinks I can save her.

  And even as I pull her closer to my side, I’m aware that chances are, she and I, individually and as a pair, are probably doomed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Nikki

  It was a miracle that I was able to get Tucker to wait in the lobby, but if Hermes was indeed back in Claude’s apartment, I wanted to avoid more drama. On the walk over, I’d felt the tension pouring off Tucker and the way I’m feeling, I can’t deal with Tuck and Hermes getting into a pissing contest in front of me. I was way too wired and dismayed over the fact Tucker had seen me doing my balancing act on the Neuf and had been genuinely freaked out that my life had been in danger.

  And I suppose it had. I felt bad for scaring him. I felt weak for doing what I’d done.

  I had gone out to the Pont Neuf for the relief that balancing gave me. However, the longer I’d balanced there, the deeper the pull of the Seine had become. It had terrified me, that siren call to jump to the water below. I don’t think I would have drowned if I’d fallen, but the drop was high enough to break my back if I’d landed wrong. It had been such a stupid thing to do.

  All kinds of thoughts were swirling through my head, including the fact I was a loser and should leave Tucker to live his life in peace. But I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to do what he’d asked, and go back with him to his hotel, and spend the night making love and talking and getting to know him better.

  Since that’s what he clearly wanted, too, I was going to let it happen.

  But then I’d give long hard thought to my next move, and whether I should cut Tucker loose, not for my benefit, but for his.

  When I opened the door to Claude’s apartment, I was greeted once again by the sight of Hermes sitting in my love seat and skimming over his tablet’s newsfeed.

  “Why are you back? I thought we were done here?”

  “Hello to you, too, Dominique,” he said. “I
came back because I remembered something I needed to talk to you about. How was the show?”

  “It was fine,” I lied. “I thought the shoes were a good compliment to his work.” At least that wasn’t a lie. But in my mind, I could have designed shoes that went just as well with his designs, but didn’t compete with them so much. Shoes that were less about shock and flash. But every time I’d brought up that idea, my mom had told me I was just getting lazy. Wanting easy praise instead of wanting to work for the true accolades. “Anyway, I’m just here to grab a few of my things. I promised my friend Tucker that I’d spend the next few days with him.”

  Hermes arched his eyebrow at me and it was odd to notice his grip on his tablet tightening. His cheeks grew flushed red and, it felt crazy, but I was beginning to pick up jealous vibes from him. That was nuts. He’d been Mother’s spy for almost ten years. Almost a father figure given he was almost fifteen years older than I was. I’d always thought he and my mom had gotten together at some point because he was so handsome. He had that George Clooney or Sean Connery rugged and salt-and-pepper look going for him. I’d just never been attracted to him.

  No, what I was sensing was jealousy had to be about control. I just had to make clear that the one wielding the control here was me.

  “So you’re going off with that rocker of yours.”

  “That’s right. But I’m also going to be working. Tucker is fully supportive of that.”

  “I’m sure he is,” he said snidely.

  “And what does that mean?” I asked.

  “That he’s got an agenda. His band canceled their international tour. Probably didn’t have enough ticket sales and now he’s looking to capitalize his image and that of the band by tying his coat to yours.”

  I burst out laughing. “Oh God, you’re incredible. Point Break is one of the biggest bands in the world. It’s not like I picked up some wannabe off of the Sunset Strip. The last thing they need is publicity from me. And they didn’t cancel their international tour because of low ticket sales. Believe it or not, it was cancelled because the lead singer is in love. Do you know what being in love is like, Hermes?”

  “Do you?” he shot back. “Is that what this is about. You think Tucker Benning loves you?”

  “Of course not. I just met him. We’re—we’re just having fun together. What’s wrong with that?”

  He seemed to relax slightly. “Nothing. But his way of relaxing? Booze, drugs, and groupies. The last thing you need when you’re working so hard on establishing your line is bad press from hanging out with rocker gutter trash.”

  “Tucker has a great effect on me. Maybe it’s hard for you to understand, but he calms me down.”

  Hermes shook his head and turned his tablet to me. It was too small for me to see from here, not with my glasses away from me. Frustrated, I inched closer and wanted to scream when he revealed a link to a page. Of course it was recounting our previous night’s fun at Sacre Bleu: Troubled Designer Crowd Surfs for a Packed House

  I did have to admit that whoever had captured my leap from the stage on their cell, whoever had sold the story off to begin with, had gotten a great shot. It was full of vibrant motion, of me hitting the arms of everyone assembled without too much fanfare. I would have given my leap an eight out of ten, easy.

  “Does he really calm you, Dominique? It looks like you’re back to your old partying ways and the rock star probably has everything to do with it.”

  “It’s not like that. And even if it is, so what? We had fun. He’s not a bad influence on me. I made the choice to take him to Sacre Bleu. He’d never been, hadn’t even heard of it.”

  “And that’s him calming you?” Hermes demanded as he scrolled to the left.

  Other images popped up of us trading shots at the bar and of me dancing on stage. I was so glad in that moment that one of my most famous drunk habits hadn’t come back last night. I’d always loved flashing people when I got drunk enough, and, if you added in a stage, it really was a miracle that my goods weren’t front page news on every blog on the planet.

  “You know what it looks like to me?” Hermes continued.

  “That there’s something you need to pontificate on?” I said, my tone clipped and frustrated.

  “That you’re trying so hard to promote your shoe line, and now the biggest press so far is you at a bar stage diving like it’s 1999.”

  “You of all people should know that a picture isn’t the full story!” I ground back, my pacing faster than ever before. I was so tired of everyone expecting things of me. Mother merely expected me to fail, and I was terrified that she was right on that score. Tucker wanted me to take care of myself, when I wasn’t sure I could. Hermes wanted…

  I wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted.

  “Did you show this to Mother?” I demanded. “Is this another report to file so that she knows what a fuck up I am.”

  “No, actually, I haven’t forwarded the link to Anna. But you do know how it looks. Even if your line ends up being a success.”

  “It will be a success,” I said, storming into my room and not caring if he followed me or not. I had to shove my clothes in my suitcase. The fancier stuff, the actual dress I’d wear the night of the show to compliment my own shoe choice, I could have sent directly to me. Anything that would speed up me and Tucker getting back to his place and away from Hermes’s overbearing presence would be a blessing. “I don’t need this,” I added as I shoved jeans, silk blouses, and underwear into my bag.

  “Maybe you do. I care about you,” Hermes replied. “I care that you have a good reputation intact by the time this trip is over. I care that you’ve put your soul into your store and your line. I do care, and it has nothing to do with your mother because she doesn’t know about this. At least if she does, it’s because she found it out on her own. I don’t tell her everything.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I didn’t tell her about the photographer at your store opening. She called me once she’d gotten an email from someone else.” He sighed and reached out to stroke my cheek. I froze then because his touch was completely unexpected. It was gentle and kind, but it wasn’t paternal. I wasn’t so dense that I couldn’t feel the tenderness there, the desire and want burning underneath everything else. “I don’t want to do anything but protect you, Dominique. Why can’t you see that?”

  I stiffened for a moment before snapping myself out of whatever spell he was casting over me. I couldn’t do this. I had Tucker waiting and a show to prepare. There was no way that Hermes after a decade was finally making a move, and even if he was, I’d never thought about him like that.

  Why not? He’s definitely hot.

  I pushed that voice away even as I reached for my suitcase and picked it up. Tucker would be rushing up from the lobby soon if I didn’t get back, and then we might get complete Thunderdome action between them. I didn’t want Tucker strung up. He might be able to handle himself in a bar fight but Hermes was both sitter and guard. He’d been trained in quite a few disciplines of hand-to-hand combat. He could mop the floor with anyone and that look in his eye, that voracious hunger, told me that he might just be tempted enough to try it with Tucker.

  “I need to get back to Tucker. I want Tucker, Hermes.”

  “Maybe you just think you want him.” He leaned lower and I could feel his breath on my cheek. He smelled of designer cologne as well as a bit of cigar smoke, an old habit that he’d never quite kicked even if I hadn’t seen him smoke since I dropped out of college. I looked back into his gleaming eyes and at his strong jaw, and it hit me then, how long Hermes had been in my life.

  Years and years. And because of that, he knew me. Maybe he even knew what was best for me.

  I’d only known Tucker for a few days, and while he cared about me, he’d made it clear we were just about temporary fun. He was a rock star, for God’s sake, and soon he’d get back to being a rock star. Then where would I be? Without him?

  Did I really want to be without Hermes
too?

  Frightened at the thought of being abandoned and alone, I reached up and touched Hermes’ cheek. Maybe instead of thinking of Hermes as my enemy, I should think of him as my protector. Hermes was solid like a rock, like a huge wall that would be a bulwark against all the chaos.

  He’d been larger than life as long as I’d known him, always there to dig me out of a crowd or offer safety.

  He lowered his head as if to kiss me, but I abruptly pulled back. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Not with Tucker downstairs. But once Tucker left—and he would leave—maybe things would be different.

  “I need to go, Hermes. But once the show is over, once everything in Paris is over, we’ll talk, okay?”

  He stared at me, understanding glowing in his eyes. Somewhat reluctantly, he straightened, but then nodded.

  “We will definitely talk,” he said.

  I gulped at that. It wasn’t exactly a threat, but it was an uncomfortable statement of truth. I nodded, then headed out the door. If I stayed, then I might never leave, and I wanted Tucker more than I wanted this, at least for now. Tucker was excitement and comfort, while Hermes was stability. It wasn’t lost on me that he’d also be the one man I got involved with—if I got involved with him—that my mother would approve of. Maybe he’d be good for me in other ways, too. Maybe I did need an older gentleman to protect me and guide me on my path, but as much as I tried to wrap my mind around it, my heart rebelled.

  Hermes might be a smart choice, but he wasn’t my choice. Not now. Right now, I was headed to someone who excited me and made me feel good about myself in the here and now, flaws and all. Tucker was still pulling me toward him, like a massive sun in orbit, and I wanted that. The calm he left me with was real and not some petty illusion.

  But it was also temporary and I had to accept that.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Tucker