Although she’d addressed it to a customer, Riku glanced at her. “You have another store?”
“I have three.” She said it with a deal of pride. “The boutique, this one and another like this farther along Fifth.”
He paused, his pen hovering over a paper bag. He turned it over and read the legend. “Cyn’s Creations.”
She glanced at him sidelong and gave him a cheeky grin. “I did make something of myself after all.”
“I never doubted it.”
Tears pricked her eyes. Yes, he had. Everyone did when she’d left the institute. The final audition and interview had taken place in private but she’d collected her things and left, not willing to talk to anyone. Her parents hadn’t helped when she’d braved the cost of a transatlantic telephone call and then followed it up with an email. So she’d stayed here and lucked in to this. No, not lucked in—she’d worked for it.
Luck was what happened when you were a member of a moderately successful rock band and struck pay dirt with a number-one global hit. Followed by another one and another.
She didn’t believe that either. Nobody got that good by accident. Oh, someone might start with basic talent but it took hard graft to turn it into real results.
Thinking of the work he’d done relaxed her. He’d achieved what he’d wanted to do at base—forged a career in music—and made a success of it. Not everybody did. Was he as driven as ever? The field he’d chosen didn’t take the same effort as the other path, concert pianist, might have. A rock star could skim by for an hour.
No, she remembered the music again. That hadn’t happened, although he might not be doing all the work. They worked as hard as any group of classical musicians.
A light touch on the small of her back reminded her he hadn’t forgotten her. As if she needed reminding he was standing next to her. In a dream, she had to force herself to concentrate on the customers, on the stock, on her job. She couldn’t remember having to do that before but then Riku hadn’t visited her here before.
He leaned close. “When do you finish?”
“Around six.”
He grunted. When nobody stood near enough to hear them, he pressed on her waist, urging her to turn to face him. He spoke quietly, letting his hair fall across his face. “What about the cash? You take a lot of it.”
“Security comes to collect it in about five minutes.” She smiled up at him, warmed by his concern. “I don’t carry bags to the bank, nor do I have much cash here overnight. I know nothing is entirely safe. We have shutters and the rest of the shit you need these days but we try to minimize risk.”
“It only occurred to me now. You only have one assistant and you’re both, well, women.”
“We can take care of ourselves and we’re not stupid. And she’s not an assistant, she’s the manager.”
He smiled back and lifted his hand to brush her hair away from her cheek. A bright light flashed when someone took a picture. He ignored it. “Sorry to go all sexist and macho on you.”
She found she liked it. It was a long time since someone cared enough to check her safety. She wouldn’t tell him though. He was getting too close too fast and she needed to keep some distance or she’d lose her mind. “That’s okay.”
“Will you have dinner with me afterwards?”
“Isn’t it a bit early?”
He shook his head. “We eat early on concert nights. Will you come backstage afterward?”
“Sure.” She’d be stupid to turn that experience down.
Another smile then a light kiss to her forehead. He grinned at the woman standing wide-eyed, phone in hand, ready to take a photo. “We’re old friends,” he said.
Yeah. Friends with benefits.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, he turned back to her, concern in his dark eyes and shook his head slightly. “We still have a way to go.”
What the fuck did that mean? They had nowhere to go. Couldn’t think about it, or it might lead to madness. She’d barely recovered last time and the thought of doing it again made her shudder inwardly.
Or perhaps outwardly as well, since he rubbed her bare lower arm in a comforting gesture. “Should I go away?”
“Don’t you dare. We haven’t been this busy in weeks.”
He laughed and returned his attention to the customers.
The shop was getting uncomfortably full. She left the counter and motioned to Maddy to go to the front. She remained close enough to get to the cash register when a customer needed serving and left Riku to the tender mercies of his fans.
After an hour she realized the crowd was pushier and concern made her tense. People were buying random items, obviously to get Riku’s signature. The extra customers would compensate for the stones he’d ruined when he crashed into her. She’d just collected them from the polisher’s too. Not that she’d tell him, or he’d offer to buy them.
She hadn’t realized how fast time had flown until the guy in the crash hat stood before her. Grimacing, she rushed to the register to collect the money she’d already prepared for him. A grinning Riku handed her more. “Maddy left it open for me.” He nodded at the drawer. “I guessed you’d need the time.”
Maddy shouldn’t have done that. Normally she wouldn’t do that for anyone.
Her gaze shot to the register in alarm. It always worried her, to deal in so much cash. But in her business, where customers often made small purchases, it was inevitable and so close to the Empire State Building, they also attracted a lot of tourist trade.
All that raced through her head while she counted the extra bags and plastic baggies holding the money. Dizzy, she handed them to the cash guy. This was the first time she’d done this without closing the store or taking the man into the back room. She asked for the same people, knowing personal recognition was safer than any password or plastic.
“Busy today.” He glanced around. He gave Riku a dispassionate stare, taking in his bizarre hairstyle but it became clear he didn’t know him. Probably thought he was an average everyday weirdo.
“Family good, Ray?” She needed to get this day back to something resembling normal before she set out for the concert, where she was sure the madness would only start again.
“Sure. Great. Lucy’s starting her sophomore year. Doing well too.” The proud father beamed. “She’s a bright kid.”
They exchanged desultory conversation like this every day and slowly normality crept through Cyn’s body, grounding her as she so badly needed. Having a rock star in her store, having a rock star she’d just fucked in her store, that rock star being Riku, for God’s sake, gave her conniptions.
Her brain refused to unscramble but she held on to her sanity—barely. He’d always driven her insane with his presence. Ray took the cash and left, having given her the receipts. She’d always taken such care that time of the day but today—he could have snatched her takings and disappeared into the ether, for all the attention she gave him.
She surrendered. She sent Maddy an apologetic grin. “I’ll go change. Then we’ll head out.”
“With this bunch still waiting to be served?” Maddy waved, nearly knocking some tiger’s-eye beads from a woman’s hands. She had to apologize but Cyn understood her point. They could stay open for hours and the crowd wouldn’t diminish. Sadly they had to close tonight, or they’d never make the Garden. Oh shit, she was really not thinking straight.
Riku bent close so only she could hear him. “I’ll get lost, go into the back room. Tell them I’ve gone.”
“Bless you,” she murmured.
Half an hour later she and Maddy had cleared the store and finally locked up. The cash register still held a worryingly large amount of money. So she cleared it of all but the float, noted the amount and took it into the back room to put in the safe. The notice on the door informed the would-be thief that they kept no cash on the premises, although that wasn’t strictly true but it had worked so far.
She hadn’t realized she was speaking aloud until his amused voice broke
into her thoughts. “I won’t tell anybody.” He settled his hands on her waist. “Can we leave now?”
“Sure.” Their connection snapped into place and with a groan he bent and took a kiss from her. He didn’t have to fight to get it. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and she sucked gently, his light “Mmm,” registering deep inside her. And she was back, in their world, ready to do anything for him, with him.
Insanity. However much she told herself, the craving continued. Anger at her own helplessness warred with the need that rose inside her every time he looked at her, touched her. He broke the kiss. “Why did we ever split? Remind me again.” His breath felt ragged against her lips. Hers matched it.
“Nothing’s changed. We’re still in different places, Riku. We can’t forget that.”
He smiled, disturbingly hot. “We’ll see.”
She liked the way he said it but she couldn’t afford to get carried away, to believe they had more than before. That physical attraction, irresistible but it wouldn’t last. How could anything that intense survive? They couldn’t build a relationship on hot sex any more than they had before.
“I planned to go home early and shower but I don’t have time. Do I look okay?”
He glanced at her floaty, hippy-dippy blue top and skirt and flipped her hair, which she wore loose and straight today. “Gorgeous. Do you have seats?”
She shook her head. “Standing.”
“Shit. I don’t want to think of you in the mosh pit.”
“I’ve done it before.” She shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
“I can offer you a shower. We’re checked in at the Sunday Hotel by the park.”
“You sold your apartment?” She shouldn’t be surprised—he hadn’t lived in New York for years but it hurt to think of the tiny room in someone else’s possession.
“I bought another but it’s in Tribeca.” He stared at her, his expression softening. “The truth is I daren’t take you there yet, even though the cleaning crew’ll be done by now. I want you too much. But I’d like you to come back with me after the concert.”
She turned away, her heart contracting. “Not a quickie, then?” At least she’d tried for lightness.
“Not unless you’re happy with it. I want more.”
“You always did.”
Before he could respond she grabbed her big shoulder bag from her locked drawer in the desk and took out the smaller cross-body pouch inside, all she’d need tonight. She’d already packed it with her ticket, lipstick and enough cash to get home, plus one credit card for emergencies. And her apartment keys. If she left now she could make it home, change and get back just in time but then she’d miss dinner with Riku and she wanted that.
She shoved the big bag in the drawer and relocked it, posting the key in the pouch. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“We’ll eat at the hotel. Or do you want somewhere fancy?”
“The Sunday isn’t fancy?” The hotel facing Central Park was a five-star dream. Not that she’d ever been inside.
Riku dragged his hat from his pocket and pulled it on, tucking his hair underneath. He still looked like Riku but dressed in a grungy T-shirt, unremarkable denim jacket and jeans, he could probably get away with wandering the streets.
“So that’s why you do it.”
“What?”
“All the clothes onstage.”
Riku laughed. “Clever girl. But not entirely. I just enjoy it, is all. Most of the band except Zazz dress for comfort. Jace uses his body art to make a point.”
“That’s part of your appeal. You are yourselves.”
“We’re Murder City Ravens.”
The heart of what he was now. She forced a smile and opened the door, casting him a flirtatious glance over her shoulder.
Chapter Three
They caught a taxi to the hotel and Cyn insisted on Maddy coming with them. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the treat too?
When they arrived Riku led them to the elevator to one side of the large bank. Cyn watched Maddy and tried to see the experience through her eyes as they stepped into the car and rode to the penthouse floor.
She knew what to expect but not on this scale. Bands hired whole floors of hotels for security, engineers, sound people and other staff crashed there as well as the band and management. The press liked to think it was hard living but more often than not, especially at this end of a tour, exhaustion rode them. At this time, before a gig, the opposite held sway, with people hustling around, conversations going on through and over. But she didn’t hear singers gargling, coughing, choking, hawking and spitting. That must be specific to the opera circuit. Musicians tended to behave in similar fashion, whether they practiced opera, jazz, pop or in this case, rock.
A powerful odor of coffee hit her senses, making her mouth water and her stomach rumble. Riku glanced at her, grinning. “We can go into my room if you want.”
“Are you kidding?” Maddy clapped her hand to her mouth, her long, elaborately manicured nails gleaming in the light, the little brilliants flashing when she moved. “Hey, I’m sorry. Whatever you need.”
“I need to eat something and then change. I promised you dinner, though. We can order room service here or I’ll take you to the restaurant.”
Cyn had seen Riku onstage. It had to take him some time to dress. “How long will it take you to get ready?”
He grimaced. “I’ll do it at the Garden.”
“But it won’t be the full thing, will it?”
Someone jostled her as he pushed past. She’d have ignored it but Riku growled a warning. The man turned around, uttered a hasty, “Sorry,” and moved on.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Do what you have to,” she said. “We’ll eat here.”
Maddy beamed, her narrow face lighting with pleasurable anticipation and she flicked back a lock of her dead-straight blonde hair. “Room service sounds fine to me.”
Riku took them through to a large area, which might have been part of the penthouse suite but bore little relation to the pictures on the hotel website.
The Sunday was one of the finest hotels in New York, so sure she’d looked. The space appeared positively cramped because of the number of people crammed into it. A long table at one end was set not just with buffet food but great buffet food. Open sandwiches, wraps, freshly made and on real china plates. Delicate hors d’oeuvres vied with bowls of various salads and stacks of meats.
Riku sighed. “Sandwiches again.” He glanced around. “Oh shit, that makes me sound spoiled.”
“You are spoiled,” she reminded him. “You’re a rock star.”
“A rock musician.” His tone suggested he’d corrected many people many times before. “Would you prefer a proper meal?”
As he spoke a large man was barreling over to them. Although he wore clothes fashioned for a big man they hung on his powerful shoulders as if he’d lost weight, or he dressed for comfort. His belt showed a well-worn notch, several spaces up from the one he currently used. He had a thick beard and his hair curled in an unkempt style.
“Hi.” He eyed Cyn and Maddy curiously. “You’re late. You going on in jeans tonight?”
“Not fucking likely. Hey, this is Cyn and her friend Maddy. I bumped into her this afternoon.” He glanced at Cyn, humor lighting his eyes. “Literally. We used to—we went to the institute together.” She watched him, wondered why he didn’t admit they’d been far more to each other than that and hurt laced through her. Wasn’t she good enough to introduce properly? Stupid,her brain told her but the instinct she’d grown up with, that she never truly belonged, kicked in to override common sense.
“I don’t need anybody to tell me who you are.” She shook free from Riku and faced the man standing before her. “Chick Fontaine, right?”
“Yeah.” He wrung her hand and then Maddy’s. Maddy stared up at him in awe. Cyn felt a bit awe-ful herself. This man made and broke careers. Mostly made them. He’d taken Murder City Ravens from a rock band on the point of total se
lf-destruction to the powerhouse it was today, famous the world over, a best-seller of the year. Smashed through every objective. If she’d had this man in her corner would she have given up her career so quickly?
Probably.
“Nice to meet you.”
“So you sing too?”
She almost laughed at the wary expression in his eyes. No doubt people approached him all the time in the hope he’d take on their careers. “Not professionally. I run three jewelry and craft stores now.”
“She owns the businesses,” Riku said. “I’m definitely visiting her uptown store tomorrow. Cool jewelry.”
She hadn’t recalled him taking particular notice of her designs that afternoon. He’d been too busy signing and chatting. “He came in to see me and got recognized.” Chick would probably want to know, because he had a hand in the promotion side too. “Did some signing but refused to do it without a purchase.”
Chick raised a black brow. “Nice. So you did well?”
“Let’s just say he owes me nothing.”
“You’re English, aren’t you? Have you lived in New York long?”
She nodded. “Since my father died.” She glanced at Riku. “Sorry, I didn’t tell you. He died just after I left the institute. Cancer. It was quick. “
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Riku had never met her parents but his face reflected the horror she’d experienced at the time. Sometimes she still felt it when she woke in the middle of the night from a bad dream.
Chick’s perceptive gaze went from Riku to Cyn and back. She noticed. Riku didn’t. Chick knew now they had history. “Sorry to hear it,” he said.
“So was I. Thanks.” She dismissed the tragedy as she always did, with a brusque casting aside. She didn’t care if it made her appear heartless. Nobody deserved to know how badly she’d fallen apart. Nobody. She’d come around and made something of her life and that was the important thing.
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