by Jess Bentley
She decided that she didn’t even want the money he was offering to fix the wall. Rory just wanted this Arsen Ford to leave her house and her life for good.
“That’s it. You gotta go. I have put up with you for too long,” Rory said with a downturned mouth that exhibited her contempt for him.
“But Aurora?” Lizzy pleaded. She only called her Aurora when she wanted a favor, but another angry look from Rory shut her up.
“All right. If that’s what you want.” Arsen got up from the couch but grimaced and his leg wobbled. Clearly, his ankle was still not better. He sat back on the couch and massaged his ankle, his lips thinning to hide a pained expression. Unwilling to waver from her stance, Rory said nothing till Arsen spoke up.
“Look… Rory…” Arsen said, as if trying to remember her name. “I’ve already called my manager this morning. He’s going to be here in no time at all and then I will be out of here for good. Till then can I sit here and wait for him?”
Rory didn’t like the entitled tone, but she felt she had no choice but to let him wait. She was too kind of a person to throw out an injured man. Besides, the house was big enough for her to stay out of his way.
“He’s your responsibility till he goes.” She turned to Lizzy with a pinched look.
“Yes! Totally. I’ll totally take care of him. And Rory, maybe we can have breakfast together? I’ll be happy to cook something for all of us,” Lizzy said with a huge smile on her face. She’s never offered to do anything like this for me before, but now that her darling Arsen Ford is here, suddenly she’s top chef.
“No need for that, I can cook breakfast in my own home,” she replied to Lizzy and stormed out, completely avoiding all eye contact with Arsen. Rory was starved and the idea of breakfast was appealing. As she left the room, she could hear Lizzy giggle as Arsen said something.
I bet he’s making fun of me, she thought.
6
Now I’m cooking breakfasts for strangers? Rory couldn’t shake off the feeling of bitterness as she threw some bacon on the skillet. She wasn’t sure why she was doing this especially when she was so annoyed. Annoyed at this man and his car-crashing ways. Annoyed at Lizzy’s fascination with him. Annoyed that he had made her pretty little teacup into an ashtray.
Who the hell does he think he is?
As the bacon sizzled and the bread toasted, Rory’s curiosity got the better of her and she pulled out her phone to Google “Arsen Ford.”
Lead guitar player and the main songwriter of Insurrection. Hmm. She had heard the name of this band in passing before but never really paid them much attention. Three-time Grammy-winner and widely considered the best guitar player of his generation. This guy? She looked up from the phone screen toward the living room where he sat, as if she could see through the walls.
Apart from all the musical accolades that were thrown his way, there was also a ton of gossip surrounding him. From the news reports, Arsen seemed like your typically obnoxious, playboy rockstar. No surprise there, Rory rolled her eyes. Flings with countless movie stars and models, pictures of wild parties in Ibiza, punched a man in a bar once, and even stormed off the stage in Cabo Hall, Detroit.
Rory simply couldn’t understand why people like Arsen did what they did. They had such fabulous lives full of riches, fame, and adoring fans, and yet they managed to make a complete mess of it. What use are three Grammys when you’re being a jackass all the time? she wondered. Most of all she wondered why she was cooking breakfast for this guy.
Well, it’s not every day that you get to cook for a Grammy-winner. I wonder what the girls in NYC would think of this development.
The latest reports on TMZ showed paparazzi photos of Arsen and his band arriving on a private jet on the party island of Montcove. Party island? Montcove? It gave Rory a smirk of her own to realize how the media portrayed this quiet place.
The Italian herb bread from Martha’s bakery was done toasting up, and the fried eggs were glistening with bacon grease. It had been forever since she got fresh bread from Martha’s.
When Grandma Colleen was alive, she’d make a point to have plenty of Martha’s goodies to go around. She remembered one summer in Montcove as a young girl that she was fascinated by the idea of breakfast in bed. When she asked her granny for that, she was met with a simple reply: “If you want breakfast in bed, sleep in the kitchen.”
Rory wondered how her grandma would react to Arsen crashing his car and being in here. She’d probably help him out and then give him a stern lecture. What I wouldn’t give to see that? What I wouldn’t give to have her back in my life? She let out a wistful sigh.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee distracted her from her thoughts, making her stomach wake up. She couldn’t help but put a crispy piece of bacon in her mouth. Outside, Lizzy was laughing at short intervals, clearly charmed by the conversation with Arsen. He seemed like the kind of guy who would charm his way into the pants of a naive girl like Lizzy.
Putting the simple breakfast that she had cooked on a large tray, Rory stepped out of the kitchen. Once Rory entered the living room, the conversation in there instantly died. Lizzy looked nervously at Rory while Arsen just looked out to the porch. They were like school kids who stopped talking once a strict teacher entered the classroom.
“Breakfast!” Lizzy exclaimed and clapped her hands. At this moment, anything and everything was exciting to her as long as Arsen Ford was in the room. She quickly put together a plate and handed it to him, annoying Rory further. Jeez. Be more obvious, Lizzy, she thought sarcastically.
“Rory, this is great!” Lizzy exclaimed as she bit into the food. Arsen ate silently, totally focused on his plate. The man was starved and he still couldn’t come up with as much as a thank you? How rude.
“You’re both welcome!” Rory said sarcastically, looking Arsen right in the eye. He looked up, gave a little nod, and went back to eating. After they were done, Lizzy got up and took the dirty dishes to the kitchen.
“That was… good.” He paused. “My ankle, however, is not. It is fucked. Shit!” He grimaced. Rory wanted to go and punch the two deep dimples that appeared on his face as he did so. The thought of making him grimace some more, just to bring out that face, made her chuckle.
“Oh yes, that is a very astute medical diagnosis, Dr. Arsen.” She could be sarcastic too, when the situation called for it. Lizzy came back into the room and Rory saw that she had brought an ice pack. She carefully lifted his leg and put the pack around the ankle.
“Thanks, Lizzy. You’re a very sweet girl.” Arsen smiled as he complimented Lizzy, whose day was made now that she had got a compliment from a celeb that she adored. She handed Arsen the meds that were lying on the side table since last night. He gulped them without drinking any water whatsoever.
“When will… these people of yours be here?” Rory asked. She was getting sick of watching Lizzy fawning over this guy.
“Your friend really wants me out of here, huh?” Arsen said to Lizzy with a chuckle, and she giggled. Ugh, Rory wrinkled her nose.
“This is a nice house. Must be a hundred years old, at least,” he said to Rory, staring straight into her eyes. His look was intense and despite her disgust with him, Rory felt a little shaken every time he met her gaze. What is it about this man…
“Yes.” She cleared her throat.
“You haven’t seen the best part yet. Rory owns the book shop up front. It's the most charming little thing you will ever see. Do you want me to give you a tour?” Lizzy quickly jumped in.
“As much as I’d like that, honey, my ankle probably won’t allow me to.” He gently patted her knee.
Clearly, Arsen preferred talking to Lizzy than to Rory. He probably thinks I am some uptight bitch.
“Maybe then I’ll give you a tour once your ankle has healed. The ice pack will take care of that.” Lizzy wasn’t giving up.
“Yes, that’s a great idea. You’re full of great ideas, aren’t you?” Arsen smiled warmly at Lizzy.
Yeah, right. Rory thought. Lizzy and her stupid ideas. Rory was sure that Arsen had some interest in Lizzy. Of course he would. She’s a pretty girl. I have to make sure she doesn’t fall for his charm.
Arsen giving all of his attention to Lizzy was irritating Rory. She told herself it wasn’t jealousy. As Lizzy talked, he instinctively pulled out a cigarette from the pack but stopped, smirked to himself, and put it right back in.
Arsen was indeed attractive in a classic sort of way. Even the unkempt long hair fit his tall, muscular physique very well. He had strong hands, probably from years of playing guitar, and an even stronger gaze. The man virtually spoke with his eyes, which worked for him as he seemed like a man of very few words.
Rory hated herself for pondering over these thoughts and for finding him attractive. She hated herself for liking his deep voice and the dark beard along his sharp jawline. She could see why all those gorgeous Hollywood actresses would fall for him.
Some women will just fall for any dude with a guitar. The sarcastic side of her mind was balancing out all the nice things she thought about him, and as her eyes fell on Lizzy she was annoyed once again. I’m the one who takes him in, the one who cooks breakfast, and she’s the one he calls “honey?”
Her attention was distracted by the sounds of a car coming to a loud screeching halt on the back road. Not another accident, please, she thought. The other two in the room barely seemed to have noticed that. Lizzy was still going on and on about how awesome life must be in LA while Arsen just smiled and nodded.
A man dressed in chauffeur’s clothes walked toward the room. He stopped as he reached the door that led to the living room and his eyes fell on Arsen.
“Mr. Ford. I’m sorry, I just walked in—the gate outside was open.”
Lizzy left the damn gate open again, Rory thought and took another sip of coffee. The man then picked up his cell phone, waited for a beat, and then spoke. “He’s here, sir.” Then he hung up.
“And you are?” Arsen asked, apparently clueless to the identity of the man.
“I’m Mr. Nicks’ driver, sir. You might have seen me at the airport when you arrived in Montcove.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, sir, Mr. Nicks asked me to drive him here.” The man was about to say more when Rory noticed a man with long flowing blond hair, sunglasses, and what seemed like a layer of scarves around his neck walk into the room.
You didn’t need to be a genius to guess his profession. The man was the definition of a rock star—at least, he had the perfect look for it.
“Oh my God! This is the best day ever!” Lizzy screamed.
7
“Oh my God! It’s Mickey Nicks!” Lizzy’s shrill, excited scream echoed through the room and she got up, ran like the wind, and jumped on the new arrival.
“Oh! Hey there…” The new man exclaimed, forcing Lizzy away from him and then blatantly checking her out. He then lowered his sunglasses and looked around the living room. Two more men, dressed in similar clothes but not as flamboyant as Mickey, entered the room.
“There you are, man. We thought you were fuckin’ dead in a ditch or something. Why the fuck do you have to disappear like that? We looked all over the mansion for you—well, at least they did.” He nodded to the other guys. ”Well anyway, good to know that you’re alive and all that.”
“What are you doing here, Mickey?” Arsen’s jaw was clenched and Rory could make out that he was not happy to see this Mickey person.
“What do you mean? I am here to rescue you. I am the fucking knight in white shining horse or whatever.” The man broke into a huge laugh, pleased with himself for some reason.
“But… Where’s Don? I asked him to come, not you,” Arsen replied sternly.
“Aren’t you the most ungrateful?” he replied with a shocked look on his face. I agree with you there, Rory thought. “I worried about you so much, man. I couldn’t sleep all night. “
“Are you sure it was because of worrying for me or maybe it had something to do with the ton of coke you snort every night?” Arsen chuckled.
“Why you gotta be nasty like that, man? Why the fuck?” Mickey glared at Arsen. Rory could feel the heat between the two men rising, and the look Arsen gave Mickey made her feel as if he was going to punch him any second now.
“Shut up, Mickey. Bobby, where is Don?” Arsen asked.
“Hey!” Mickey shouted. “I am talking to you. Show some respect, asshole.” Arsen looked at him calmly but underneath he seemed anything but.
“Mickey. This is not about you. So shut. The hell. Up!” Arsen wagged his finger at Mickey.
“See this fucking guy? That’s why I can’t work with him anymore.” Mickey turned to the other guys and complained. He seemed like someone who always wanted to be the center of attention, even in a serious situation like this.
“Then don’t? I’d like to see you find someone else who will put up with your bullshit,” Arsen snorted sarcastically.
“Oh yeah! I will. Don’t you worry about that. I am the soul of this band and there is no Insurrection without Mickey Nicks.” He looked at Lizzy for an approval of his statement, but she was too intimidated by this confrontation to say anything. For Rory, however, this was thoroughly entertaining.
“Say Mickey, how is the weather up there in delusion land?” Arsen said with a huge grin on his face. It even made Rory snort and Mickey noticed.
“That’s it. I am taking you down.” Mickey took off his sunglasses and rushed toward Arsen. Rory could tell that the tension between these men wasn’t just born right at that moment. It had simmered for far too long, waiting to boil over. The other two guys rushed to hold back Mickey. Arsen was already on his feet, ready to launch a punch.
Rory imagined how badly his ankle must be hurting right in that moment as he got up, but he didn’t show any sign of it on his face. Like a wounded tiger, he stood there, ready to take on the fight. You gotta admire a man for that.
“Fellas! What is going on here? I can’t be away for one second without y’all getting into some trouble?” A short, fat, balding man with an air of authority entered the room.
Arsen was fuming inside. He was a second away from knocking out Mickey, and deep inside he felt that it was high time he did so.
He was sick of Mickey’s extravagant ways. He was sick of dealing with an unprofessional hack. Whatever happened to the guy who lived and breathed music?
Don’s presence calmed him down. At least now he knew that everything would be taken care of, and soon he would be back to his regular life. The life that I’m trying to run away from?
The accident last night had shaken him. He didn’t remember when he had passed out, but he had nightmares all night long. Every little sound in that old house woke him up from his slumber. It didn’t help that the girl who lived in the house came down to keep watch on him at least three times last night. Who does she think I am? A thief?
The girl’s smug attitude and her self-righteous way annoyed him. Her glances made him feel as if she were constantly judging him. Even right now she is sitting there self-satisfied, perhaps laughing inside at how dumb these rockstars look.
Shame that someone with such a pretty face has such a shitty attitude, he thought.
The moment she walked in this morning, he had realized that she was even prettier than she appeared in the dark of the night. He loved her shiny, long, auburn hair and the fact that she wasn’t skinny beyond belief. Real women were curvy, he always believed, and back home in LA, they rarely were.
The other girl had been terribly sweet to him, but she was too chirpy, too bubbly, and way too completely in awe of the fact that he was a celebrity. Arsen knew tons of girls like that. Nonetheless, he was thankful to her for all that she had done for him.
The other one, Rory, is so damn serious. But haven’t I had enough of party girls already? he pondered. He was intrigued if there was more to her than met the eye. Why is she living all by herself in this enormous ho
use? What is behind that hidden glimpse of melancholy in her eyes? Behind that overbearing tone of worry in her voice?
“Hey kid, are you all right? What’s going on here?” Don came and sat right next to him on the couch and asked in his usual tone of fatherly concern. Arsen paused to reflect on his thoughts before he spoke.
“Just a little accident.” Arsen paused as he heard a scoffing sound from Rory’s direction. What’s her deal? he wondered. Sarcastic beyond belief and constantly mocking. “I crashed the Ferrari into the back wall out there and damaged my ankle a little.” Another scoffing sound from Rory.
Arsen looked up and stared at her. She stared back, something she’d been doing all along, as if they were in a staring match. “Perhaps Rory here can do a better job of explaining the events than me.” He smirked back at her.
“Hello there, Rory. I’m Don. I assume you’re the owner of this house?”
“Yes.”
“I am sorry about the accident, sweetheart. These things happen, but I do promise you I will have it fixed for you tout suite.” Rory nodded at Don’s reassurance. No scoffing sounds this time; those are reserved only for me, Arsen thought.
“I am sure Arsen is sorry for all this. So am I. We shouldn’t be disrupting your life like this.” Don made the apologetic face that he was so good at making. One of the reasons why he was the best in the business. He always adapted to the situation instantly and made himself appear whatever he needed to be.
“Thank you so much for taking care of my boy here. Y’know how boys are. They can get rowdy sometimes.” Don spoke in a matter-of-fact tone and Rory nodded in agreement. Arsen knew that Don could sense some hostility between him and Rory, and he was irked at the stupid picture Don was painting of him. But what do I care what she thinks of me? I’m never going to see her again.
“Thanks, Don. That really paints me in a favorable light,” he couldn’t help but mutter. Hell would freeze over before he’d have himself called silly in front of that proud girl. Don gave him a stern look as if to say, “Shut up and let me handle this.” Arsen merely shrugged.
