by Maggie Marr
Right. I closed my eyes. I had just spent the last four weeks doing all that and more with her, and now here I sat, letting a nearly naked stranger dance on my lap so my cock could get hard.
Fuck. I was an asshole.
“Hey, Tash, wait.” I hauled my ass up and caught up to her near the door to the private dining room. I grasped her arm and she spun around, pulling away from my touch. Her eyes held ice and pain.
“Rhett, how can I help you?” The ice in her voice was unmistakable.
She was so formal. So cold. So distant.
“How can you help me? Seriously, Tash?”
“Seriously,” she said. She lowered her voice and took a step toward me. “I was really clear about my boundaries, and this exceeds them.”
“Nothing happened,” I said.
“Okay, so if the positions were reversed, if it were me that was sitting in a chair letting a man thrust his cock into my lap, that would be okay?”
“Fuck no, that would be entirely different.”
“Really?” A hard smile sliced across her face. “I’d like to hear how.”
“Women are fundamentally different than men. We have needs, desires, sex means nothing to us. Whereas for women it means a lot.”
Tasha took a long deep breath. “Knowing you and how you’ve treated sex and women there are so many things fundamentally wrong with that statement that I don’t even know where to start.” She adjusted her purse higher on her shoulder. “Fortunately for me, and perhaps even you, I have a business dinner with a very important artist, so while I’d love to discuss the intricacies of postmodern feminism and sexism with you, that discussion simply doesn’t fit into my schedule tonight.”
Her eyes ran a cool glance up over my body.
“Actually, Rhett, any conversation with you that doesn’t involve business doesn’t fit into my schedule any night.”
I jerked back as though her words were a cold hard slap to my cheek. Tasha turned to walk into the room and away from me.
“What the fuck? Because I was in a fucking strip club? Sweetheart, you have some major-ass issues.”
She whipped around and pulled up close to me. Her lips were tight and temper heated her eyes. “Yes, yes, I do have issues, Rhett. The only difference is I know what my issues are, and I know what my boundaries are and I was open and honest with you about both. I try to deal with and work with my issues. That, Rhett, is how we are fundamentally different. I don’t want this”—she waved her hand toward the club—“in my personal life. Not anymore. I may have to accept it with regards to my professional life and my business, but I definitely don’t have to walk into 4Play and spot a man that I thought I was involved with getting a lap dance in the center of the club. Not when he and I both agreed on mutual respect and transparency.”
Anger boiled in my chest. Anger at her words. Anger at my actions. Anger because she was so fucking right and I was so fucking wrong and there was nothing that I could say or do to make this be right. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! The best defense was always a good offense. Time to spin.
“Sweetheart, good luck carrying around that backpack full of trust issues. Maybe your little boy-toy Johnny Tucker can help you carry it around.”
“What?” Tasha nearly raised her voice and the stoic facade on her face nearly cracked.
“You just expect any guy to be okay with your and Johnny’s relationship? You having a little late dinner at a strip club with the guy who ruined you? For fuck’s sake, Tasha, you’re still hung up on the guy. You do whatever he wants. You answer his calls. It’s like he owns your ass, or maybe it’s just your heart.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tasha said.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, really,” she said. “Johnny and I are finished. We’ve been finished for a very long time.”
“Well, if that’s true, how come you measure every man by the guy who fucked you over? Why use him as a measuring stick? Not a great starting point.”
Tasha shook her head. “Because if I start with low expectations, I always hope they’ll be exceeded. Plus, then guys like you don’t have too far to fall.” Tasha turned away from me and waved at Billie who was walking through the club toward us.
“Seriously?” Billie said to Tasha, and raised an eyebrow. “This is where we’re having dinner? Already I need a shower.”
“It’s Johnny,” Tasha said. She nodded toward the other side of the club, where he now sat beside the stage with Brielle on his knee.
“Hey, Rhett,” Billie said, and leaned in for a quick hug.
“Don’t get too close,” Tasha said. “The Legend boys have been enjoying the goods.”
“Eww,” Billie said and wrinkled her nose. “I suppose it’s just part of the rock star path, right? Strippers, bunnies, and models. Oh, my.”
“Right,” Tasha said. She pointed her gaze back to me.
Billie scanned the club. “Sterling is here, too?” She looked back at me and cocked her head. “Bonding over titties and lap dances?” She smiled. “I suppose there are worse reasons to come to 4Play.”
“We seem to have figured out a few things today,” I said. My eyes glanced at Tasha and her I-know-everything look slipped from her face. Her gaze followed Sterling who walked from the bar toward a quiet corner with his mobile pressed up against his ear. “He asked me to do the soundtrack for The Lady’s Regret.”
“That’s huge!” Billie said. She lifted her hand and slapped my palm. “Congratulations! See, it’s not all bad being a Legend.”
“No,” I said and locked eyes with Tasha. “It’s not all bad,” I said. “But it’s definitely not all good either.”
Chapter 16
Tasha
I pushed the rubbery chicken and wilted lettuce around on my plate. Strip clubs weren’t known for their cuisine. Johnny slugged back his third neat double of Jack Daniels and signaled to our waitress that he’d take another.
“Your boy can party,” Johnny said. He’d spent most of dinner regaling Billie and me with stories of his and Rhett’s conquest during their three-day stay at The Chateau the month before. My stomach was queasy and I wasn’t hungry. No matter how many times I attempted to steer the conversation away from their male conquests, Johnny circled back with another graphic description of a woman, wearing nothing, with tattoos lacing her arms, her legs, or her ass and straddling either Johnny or Rhett or two girls with them at the same time.
I pressed my hand to my forehead. This was going to be a long evening. I glanced over to Billie, and she was about as happy as I was.
“So, I say, fucking pass me the damn blonde. You’ve had your turn with her and it’s now my go!” Johnny slammed the table with his fist and hooted out loud. “And you know what the blonde says?”
“No, what?” Billie asked.
“‘But I don’t want to leave,’” Johnny said in a fake falsetto voice. “Giving yet more proof with regards to the stereotype.” Johnny upended his drink and waved the waitress down for another.
How had I ever dated this man? Not only dated, but practically lived with. A sick shudder rolled through my body. What kind of a bad place had I been in mentally to believe that Johnny was right for me? That his life, the way he thought of women, that what he wanted somehow fit with me?
“Tash, babe, you okay? You haven’t touched a bite of your dinner.” Johnny speared a piece of my chicken breast with his fork and popped it into his mouth.
“Have it,” I said and slid the plate toward him. “I ate a late lunch,” I lied. Really, I was simply sick of the stories, sick about Rhett, and worried about my label. “You wanted to talk to us about Rhett going on tour with you,” I said, again attempting to turn the conversation away from Johnny’s prolific sexual conquests and back to business.
“Right, right,” Johnny said and sawed at my chicken with his knife. “I want him to open for me on tour.”
I waited.
And waited.
Johnny ate four bites of
chicken and chewed. He washed it down with his Jack.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Johnny said.
“Wait? So why are we here? I thought there was something you needed to discuss. Do you have concerns? Are you worried? Do you think he’s the right act to open for you? Can you work with him?”
Johnny took a long drink and held up his index finger asking me for one moment. “No, no, yes, and yes. And we’re here because this is my Wednesday night spot unless I’m passed out, fucking someone else, or on tour.”
I settled my elbow onto the table and leaned my cheek against my fist. “That’s it then, we’re good to go. You’re okay with Rhett?”
“More than okay. The boy is perfect for my tour. Young, hot, sexy, his music rocks! This will be my best tour yet.”
I looked at Billie and she lifted an eyebrow as if to say, “Who the hell knows?” Billie checked her phone. “Well, if we’re good, I’m going to try and catch that act at Lola.”
“I’ll come, too,” I said and started to get up.
“Tash, babe, can you wait just a couple minutes?”
“Sure,” I said and sat back down. “Billie, I’ll try to catch up. I’ll let you know.”
“No problem, if I don’t see you tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.” She walked over and hugged Johnny and then scooted out the door.
“Hot legs and a nice ass, that one,” Johnny said.
I leaned forward. “Are you on a mission to piss me off tonight? Because I have to say, you’ve neared success.”
Johnny leaned back in his chair and a smile spread over his face. “Just making sure you remember what you’re dealing with when you deal with my kind.”
I wrinkled my eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re fucking Rhett Legend.”
Heat flooded my neck and burst across my face.
“Ahh, you are. You don’t even have to say anything, because that lovely little flush in your cheeks only happens when you’re embarrassed or when you’ve just been fucked.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Who I sleep with is none of your business,” I said. “I’ve never inquired about your love life.”
“Love life? Oh, babe, I don’t love, I fuck. At, least I haven’t loved since you.”
My heart thumped hard against my ribs.
“And we all know how that turned out.” He took another long drink of his Jack. “I know what I did to you. I know how I hurt you. If I could have been a different person I would have been, but couldn’t and I can’t. And that’s what this little night was about. To show you that there is a type; musicians, rockers … we’re a type. We’re Lotharios and liars who crave to be the center of everyone’s world. Classic narcissist, or so I’m told by my therapist.”
“You’re in therapy?”
Johnny nodded. “But don’t tell. She has tits out to here.” He held his hands in front of his chest, indicating his therapist might or might not have put herself through school by stripping.
“I still love you, Tasha.”
A tiny ache formed in my chest, not because I still loved Johnny but because I could see the pain in his eyes and heard the sadness in his voice.
“I know.”
“If I could have been even a part of the man you wanted, the guy you needed, I would have changed for you. I know I would have. But I can’t. That guy, the one who is faithful, and loving, and digs a quiet night at home, that guy who will forego all other women for you? That’s simply not in my DNA.”
Johnny’s bluster disappeared for a moment. He was so honest about who he was and who he wasn’t. How could you be angry with someone who never lied about what made them tick?
“I know that, Johnny. I don’t regret the time we spent together, but a life like that would’ve eventually destroyed me.”
“I know that, too,” Johnny said. His eyes hardened. “That’s why tonight was necessary.”
Panic brushed my insides. What did he mean by necessary?
“Not that I orchestrated Rhett being here—he did that all by himself—but I did discover where he was and I did ask my lovely little friend Brielle to make friends with him. Then I brought you here.” He waved his hand toward the main room. “So you could fully understand that while you may think Rhett Legend is different than me—perhaps different from all other musicians—he isn’t. He can’t be, not for you, not for anyone. Unfortunately, he’s not smart enough, or maybe he hasn’t been in the scene long enough, to know that he cannot change. He’s a rocker and this life is what we need. It fuels our existence.” Johnny leaned forward and placed his hand on my arm. “Babe, I had to do this. I don’t want anyone to destroy you. I love you too much for this.”
My heart pounded in my chest. I pressed my palm to my mouth, unsure if it was fury pounding in my head or complete surprise. “Wait, just so I have this straight, you found out that Rhett was here, asked Brielle to make a play for him, and then brought me here so I would see him getting a lap dance from her?”
“Well, I can’t take full credit for the timing, but that was amazing. Brielle doing her shaky-shimmy thing on his crotch just as we walked into the club. I had hopes, but tonight I got lucky.”
My eyebrows tightened. “You got lucky.” I looked away from Johnny and shook my head. It was absolutely just like him to think he was doing me a huge favor by breaking my heart. I looked at him. “You are such a misguided asshole.” I scooted my chair back from the table. “I’d call you a narcissist, but I think your therapist has already made you aware of that.” I grabbed my bag.
“He got here on his own,” Johnny called. He popped another bite of my dinner into his mouth. “He and Sterling arrived all by their little selves. I know Steve Legend, he can out-party me, and with those two boys it would seem the apples didn’t fall far from the proverbial tree.”
Air filled my lungs. Johnny was one of Left Coast’s biggest stars and his fame would launch our next big star’s career. “Thanks, Johnny,” I said, swallowing back loads of anger and choice words. “I know you’re trying to protect me.”
“You got it, babe,” he said and winked.
My stomach sickened. I turned back to the main room just as Brielle headed toward Johnny’s table to keep him company for the night.
Rhett
“You want to come in?” I leaned into the back window of the town car that had just dropped me at my apartment.
“No, man,” Sterling said. “After what I just saw, I need to get home.”
My chest clamped. Yeah, it wasn’t good. I was fighting hard not to fucking scream and beat the shit out of someone.
“I didn’t know you and Tasha Jones had a thing,” Sterling said. “I thought she’d sworn off musicians.”
“She did,” I said. I pulled a cigarette from my pack and slid it into my mouth. “Yo, man,” I leaned into the car and signaled the driver. “You got a light?”
He nodded and passed a lighter over the seat.
“Thanks,” I lit the cigarette and pulled the smoke into my lungs as deep as it would go. “Hello, my long-lost friend.”
“Thought you quit those,” Sterling said.
“Man, I did, but after tonight?” I took another drag. I tilted my head and looked up at the stars. “I totally fucked up.”
“Sorry, man,” Sterling said. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“You saw her face?”
“Fucking pissed?” Sterling asked.
“Worse,” I said. “Like she didn’t even know me. Like she didn’t even fucking care.”
“That’s worse.”
“Much worse.” I shook my head and looked at Sterling. “But thanks for the rest of the night. Was a good time.”
A surprised grin covered Sterling’s face. “Yeah, man, it was a good time. A bonding experience we’ll never forget. See you next week, unless you want to come to set before then.”
I smiled. The guy was my half-brother a
nd he might even turn out to be my friend. “Sounds good. Later.” I knocked my fist on the top of the car and the driver zipped away from the curb.
“FUCK!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Dogs barked in response. I clasped both my hands to my face. How the fuck could I be that stupid? What the hell was I thinking? I pulled out my phone and sent another text. I stared at the screen, willing Tasha to respond. “Come on, baby, I fucked up, I know I fucked up it won’t happen again.”
Nothing.
I ambled toward my apartment building and climbed the stairs. I opened the door. None of the guys were here. It was too quiet and, really, too early. They were most likely at The Roadhouse or some other shithole trolling for girls and getting plowed. I flipped on a light and grabbed another beer from the fridge. Not because I needed or even wanted another beer, but because what else was I going to do? Should I get my ass to Malibu? I couldn’t take my bike; I was way too shit-faced to drive. I could call a car. Or should I wait until morning? Fuck. I didn’t know what the hell to do to try and make things right with a woman. I’d never had to try. They got pissed, who cared? I hadn’t cared before now, that was for sure. But tonight? I yanked at my hair; tonight I was fucking lost.
I pressed the screen on my phone and called Tasha again. Straight to voicemail. I stood up and paced the room. What the hell? What the fuck? I’d done exactly what she’d said I’d do with free pussy and free female attention. I’d fallen for the whole thing. My ego had fallen for T and A, for the recognition, for the attention. “How could any man say no to a free lap dance?” Fuck! Well this man should have. Because of one free lap dance I’d just lost the best thing in my life that I could ever imagine having.
I paced from the living room into my bedroom.
