(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5)

by Michelle Mankin

  I handed her the iPad and she passed it to him. He stared down at the screen and swiped through the photos like I had, then glanced up again just as the announcement came over the plane’s speakers that we were landing.

  • • •

  “Max.” I tugged on his sleeve. “You need to talk to me.”

  “What would you have me say?” He turned his head, freezing me with the ice in his glare.

  “What you’re thinking, for one.”

  I might feel frozen but I had to keep moving—jogging, actually, to keep pace with his long strides. But at least I didn’t have to worry about the other passengers getting in our way. They readily scurried out of his path. My bodyguard looked more than his usual intimidating self as we left baggage claim and stepped through the sliding glass doors to exit the airport.

  “I’m thinking I want to get you to a secure location before we talk further.” He glanced to the side. “Where’s Olivia?”

  “There.” I pointed. She stood beside the driver from the car service.

  “Come along.”

  The handles of my bag in one hand, he steered me with the other, his fingers curled firmly around my upper arm. I wanted to protest, to insist we talk now, but at the same time, I didn’t. I’d never seen him look so unapproachable.

  “What’s that noise?” A shrill ringing rose above the din of noises at the curb.

  “My cell.” His brow dipped so deep, it pinched his gaze to narrow slits.

  “Oh.”

  It kept ringing. It had been ringing since we landed, but he ignored it.

  Did he keep the ringer off most of the time? I’d never heard his phone go off. In fact, I’d never seen him talk to anyone on it.

  Reaching the town car, he passed my bag to the driver, then turned me toward the open rear passenger door. Olivia was already inside, and not surprisingly talking on her cell.

  “Get in.” Max gestured. When I ducked my head, sat down, and started to scoot over to make room for him, he shook his head. “I’m not going with you.”

  “Why not?” I peered up at him through the tinted lenses of my sunglasses, unable to disguise the hurt in my expression as efficiently as I’d disguised my identity since we landed.

  “I’ve got personal business to attend to. I ran the specifics by Olivia.”

  “Why not talk to me?” I asked, fearing the answer.

  “Because it doesn’t concern you. Not directly.”

  “But—”

  “Olivia assures me your new condo is secure. You have a private entrance into a parking garage that has surveillance and a remote-controlled entrance. The building is manned by personnel round the clock. The driver will take you right to the keycard-accessed door by the elevators, where the head of security will meet you and escort you up. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

  Panicked by the sudden unexpected change, I couldn’t keep my voice from rising. “I don’t care about the logistics and safety issues. I care about what’s going on with you. Is everything okay?” I had a terrible thought. “This is just a temporary absence. You’re planning on coming back, aren’t you?” Dreading his response, I held my breath.

  “Of course.” But his words were unsteady, and his gaze flickered.

  “Are you sure this isn’t about what happened with Cedric?”

  “Hollie, please. You need to go. I need to go.” He glanced over his shoulder, back at the airport.

  Was he going back inside? Getting on another plane? Where? Why?

  “You know how my life is.” I didn’t want Max to leave without it being said. When he refocused on me, I released a pent-up breath and let it all out. “What we talked about at the diner . . . You have to know I’m not romantically involved with Cedric. Those photos, that’s the way they make everything seem. But it’s not real, and it’ll blow over. Until they find something new to make up lies about.”

  “I know that.” Max rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t like it. It seems like there should be more you could do to deny it, but I get it.”

  “Being too defensive just fuels their feeding frenzy.”

  “If you say so.”

  “So, you do understand?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good, so this can wait another day. We just got back. Stay.” I tried to get out of the car, but he blocked me.

  “No, Hollie. I have to go. It can’t wait.” His expression hardened.

  “I don’t want you to leave.” I stared up at him with tears brimming in my eyes.

  Truthfully, I was afraid for him to leave. I had a terrible feeling if he walked away now, I might not ever see him again.

  “Hollie.” Olivia touched my arm. “Not here. Not now.” She lifted her gaze, and I saw the glint of a camera lens flash as it caught the light. “Let him go.”

  “Good-bye.” Max slammed the door firmly closed, and the driver immediately pulled away from the curb.

  I swiveled and glanced back at Max, catching a last glimpse as he scowled and waved away a photographer. But then the car turned, and I couldn’t see him anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  * * *

  “Fanny, hey. It’s me.”

  My voice catching, I glanced out the window of my new condo. The floor-to-ceiling glass afforded expansive views of the valley, but I couldn’t appreciate it or the posh furnishings or the modern appointments or anything else. My thoughts were too jumbled up about Max.

  “Call me back when you get a chance. I need . . .”

  I needed her to advise me. Needed her shoulder to lean on. I had no experience with a relationship, especially not one this intense. But . . .

  As I turned away from the window, I reminded myself that I had my own space now. My own life. I needed to separate it from hers. Be strong on my own. Keep her safe.

  “I need to talk to you about the party,” I said quickly, then ended the call before I blubbered and she came running. That was our old pattern. I couldn’t do that anymore.

  Squeezing my cell tight in my grip, I scanned the industrial loft interior for someplace to rest and decided on the dove-gray sectional with the artfully arranged monochromatic pillows. I checked again to see if my last text had been delivered to Max. It hadn’t. Because he had that feature turned off or because he hadn’t seen it yet, I didn’t know. And not knowing made my stomach churn.

  At the middle of the longer length of the L-shaped sectional, I sat and placed my phone on the hammered-steel surface of the coffee table. Scooting forward, I stared at the phone, willing it to ring. My telekinetic superpowers didn’t work, though. The cell remained silent.

  Why hadn’t my sister picked up? She almost always picked up when I called. And what was going on with Max?

  After him always being there for me, I couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t talk to me. I thought we’d agreed to be forthright with each other, but I’d obviously been mistaken.

  Olivia didn’t know any more than he had told me. After my asking her, over and over again, she’d been eager to leave.

  No family. No ex-girlfriend that I knew of. What could it be?

  The uncertainty of it all had me on edge. I’d cautioned him about my life coming at us fast and without warning. I should have listened to my own words. Maybe then the sudden turn of events with his life wouldn’t have caught me so totally off guard.

  I scooted back. The tightly upholstered leather behind me didn’t exactly allow for lounging. I’d need to get some comfy pillows for the living room if it were going to function as a place to relax and enjoy the view. Hopefully with Max.

  When he came back. Not if he came back.

  I squinted at my cell again, and when it didn’t ring, I sighed. Tomorrow and the day after were preproduction. Olivia had scheduled a car service to pick me up and drop me off inside the gate. The studio had their own security. I wouldn’t be the only celebrity within the guarded walls. My safety wouldn’t be an issue.

  But what happened after that?

  My ph
one rang, and the sudden loud noise startled me. The swirling charcoal pattern of the concrete-stamped floors were cool to look at, but they amplified sound.

  I grabbed my phone, glanced at the display, then put it to my ear.

  “Fanny.” My tone was off. It was difficult to hide my disappointment. “Thanks for calling me back.”

  “I saw you called, but I was on the other line. Are you somewhere you can talk? Sitting down?”

  “Yes. I’m in the condo. Why?” The churn in my stomach became a spin.

  “I just got off the phone with Samuel.”

  “What did he want?” Perched on the edge of the sectional, my heart rate escalating, I held my breath.

  “To trade. He’s offering to return the royalties to my song if you drop the charges against him. I told him no, of course.”

  “What did he say then?”

  “He said I really should talk to you first before making a final determination.”

  “Why would that make any difference?”

  “He said you would know this is a fight you won’t win. I asked him if he’s so certain, then why is he willing to negotiate. He said you know the consequences should you continue. He reiterated that I should contact you, that you would understand. And then he hung up. It was all very cryptic. He’s usually more direct. Ash wanted me to call Hart right away, but I wanted you to know first. And you sounded upset on your message. Did Samuel call you too? Did he threaten you again?”

  “Just the one time.” The I-don’t-make-threats call.

  Samuel phoning Fanny was a message to me. Not so cryptic. He was letting me know if I persisted, she was next.

  I tightened one hand on the phone and curled the other one into a knot like my stomach felt, like I felt, knotted and tangled within the net he’d thrown over me.

  “Listen, I don’t think the party’s really a good idea. I wanted to stop you before you went to a lot of trouble on my behalf.”

  “It’s your birthday, Hollie.” She hit me with her big-sister voice. “It’s not any trouble to celebrate with you.”

  “I know, but—”

  “I haven’t missed one of your birthdays your entire life.”

  “Yes, and I love that, but—”

  “Not planning to start missing any now. Everything’s ready. You’re coming.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Is there some other reason you’re trying to back out?”

  “Max might not come with me.”

  “Well, that’s a shame.”

  “I won’t have protection. The paps are really giving me a hard time right now. They were all over me in New York. Coming to OB, even if I try to keep it low key, could potentially be a big circus. I just think it would be better not to do it at all.”

  “Just let me handle everything.”

  “Fanny, c’mon.”

  “No, Hols. Listen, I wasn’t going to do this to you because you’re under a lot of pressure, and I realize that. But I miss you. Birthdays are the hardest time for both of us without Mom. I need you here, even if you don’t want to come.”

  “I do want to come,” I whispered, guilt spinning together with the rest of the toxic stew inside my stomach.

  “I’ve got a promo spot with Ash to do for Outside with one of the local affiliates Friday morning, but I can send Diesel up to get you.”

  “No, not Diesel. No way.”

  “Yes, way.”

  “I thought he was out of town.”

  “He came back. Everybody’s ginned up about the party.”

  “He’s ginned up to torture me.”

  “Maybe. He’s Diesel. He lives and breathes to torture us all.”

  “Why can’t Linc or Ramon get me?”

  “Linc’s on decorating duty, and Ramon won’t leave Karen’s side. He follows her around like she’s made of glass.”

  “The pregnancy. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, first-baby jitters. Ash teases him about it all the time. They all do. So, Diesel it is. He’s way more intimidating than Linc or Ramon anyway. No paparazzo is going to want to mess with a six-and-a-half-foot tall Polynesian dude with a bad attitude. No more excuses, Hols. The matter’s closed. You’re coming.”

  She hung up, and I stared at the receiver in shock.

  But then the phone rang again, and her pretty face came up on the display via Facetime rather than a regular phone call. She probably wanted to deliver the guilt face-to-face this time.

  “Sorry. I got emotional. I don’t like you trying to carve me out of your life. It hurts. You know it does.”

  I nodded. It was a cut that sliced both ways.

  “I’m calling Hart and telling him about the latest development. If anything changes on your end, you call him too. Okay?”

  “Okay, Fanny. Good-bye.”

  This time I ended the call.

  Talking to my sister didn’t center me, but it did firm my resolve. I had to figure out a way to put distance between us, and I had to accomplish it without her realizing what I was doing. Tears choked me just considering it.

  I knew what I had to do. I just didn’t know how to do it.

  • • •

  No dinner. The fridge in my fancy new stainless-steel kitchen was well stocked, but I didn’t feel like eating. Score in the positive column because the scale in the bathroom of my very empty condo had me down two pounds.

  Score in the negative column that my cell remained as quiet as the interior of the unfamiliar eighteen-hundred-square-foot space.

  I made myself sit down on a towel by the window for yoga. I’d neglected my meditation for almost two full weeks. Since I left Ocean Beach, I’d neglected a lot of things.

  An hour of yoga completed went in the positive column. My stomach didn’t churn so badly after that.

  A shower. Another glance at my cell. No return texts. No missed calls. Double negative.

  I returned to the master bedroom and unzipped my bag. Max’s shirt was at the top, the 2 Rows Back one I had been wearing to bed. Seeing it gave me pause. I laid it on the comforter and moved to the nightstand to check my phone again. The ringer first to make sure it remained on. It was. The display remained blank. No calls. No messages. I was beginning to expect there not to be.

  I put my clothes from the trip in the laundry hamper. A housekeeping service was scheduled to come each day. Fanny said I grew up not knowing how to do the basic things like laundry and cooking, and she was right. The first five years of her life with our mother had been very different from mine. I wouldn’t even know how to turn the oven on.

  I drew the shirt over my head for pajamas and brought the collar up to my nose. Inhaling, I caught a whiff of Max’s sandalwood-lemon scent, and my eyes watered as I climbed into bed.

  Me alone in a big bed. Me unsettled. Me replaying every conversation and second-guessing it all.

  Negative. Negative. Negative.

  For a man who had been in my life such a brief time, his absence took up a whole lot of space.

  I turned on my side and scooted to the edge of the bed, facing the nightstand where my cell charged. After I reached up to switch off the lamp, I tucked my hands under my chin and closed my eyes. Tightly, I squeezed them oh-so-tightly shut. Yet tears somehow escaped anyway.

  Hours later, my alarm woke me up. I grabbed my cell and swiped off the clock function. My stomach dropped when I saw that I had no messages.

  Determined to do what I needed to, I sat up, threw the covers back, and climbed out of bed. I avoided my reflection in the bathroom mirror as I hurried to get ready for the day.

  Luckily for me, no test shots were being taken. I’d only slept for an hour before my alarm had gone off, and knew I looked horrible. I could avoid that negative today.

  But I couldn’t avoid thinking about Max.

  • • •

  “Hollie speaking.”

  I took the call on the way home from the studio, at the end of the second day of preproduction. Costume fittings. Script run-throughs. Cast and crew meeting
s. Walk-throughs of the upcoming filming schedule. I was glad I’d had the weekend in New York City to recuperate before throwing myself into this whirlwind.

  Two twelve-hour days in a row, and I’d completed them on little to no sleep. I told myself I didn’t bother to check the display on my cell because I was too tired to care who was on the line.

  “How are you holding up?”

  Disappointment washed over me at the sound of her voice. “I’m doing all right, Olivia,” I lied. “What’s up?”

  “Mostly good news. Valentine’s people love you. They want to lead with your image on a lot of the advance promotional shots. All the photos from New York, the ones with the inappropriate bylines, at least, have been taken down.”

  “And the bad news?”

  “I couldn’t find a security service with transportation included to take you to the party and bring you back.”

  “All right.” I exhaled heavily.

  “You’re dead set on going to Ocean Beach anyway, even though I’ve advised against it.”

  “I’m going. I promised Fanny.” Even if it meant putting up with Diesel.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  * * *

  “Your ride’s here.”

  Diesel Le at my door late Friday morning gave me pause, even though I’d been expecting him.

  “Your anything, anywhere ride,” I said, filling in for him as he gave me the slow once-over. “Yes, I know. We’ve had this type of conversation before.”

  “Not with you legal age.” He grinned wickedly. “Now I can get descriptive.”

  “You’re early.” I shook my head at him, pretending his nonsense didn’t get to me, but it did.

  He did.

  “I’m never early.” He leaned an elbow into the door frame above my head and grinned down at me. “I always come right on time.”

  “I’m not in the mood for your innuendoes.” I lifted my chin to maintain eye contact, holding my ground, though I bristled as usual within moments in his presence.