The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  “You’ll do a live performance and talk about War being back with the group.” Her gaze narrowed on our lead singer. “There will be no bad mouthing Mr. Morris. Part of our agreement is that I have assured him that any differences or hard feelings will remain confidential. Am I clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  She acknowledged War’s agreement with an efficient nod.

  “The appearance will mark the start of Black Cat Records’ campaign to promote your new album and the upcoming tour.”

  “What album? We haven’t even signed off on the first mix,” Bryan reminded her.

  “We’ll do that today. The rest will go through tomorrow.”

  “What about a cover?” I asked.

  “That’s where you come in, Mr. Reed.” She withdrew my sketch pad from beneath her arm. I had forgotten I had left it with her. “There’s a sketch of the four of you at Footit’s in here that is dated from a couple of years ago.” A lot of pictures of Melinda, too. But she didn’t mention that. Thankfully. “With the heavy Southside theme of the new album I thought we could use that one on the front.” She leveled a look at me. “You’ll have to add in a self-portrait.” She tapped her manicured fingers together as if thinking out loud. “Maybe off to the side with your drawing pencil to show that you’re the artist in the group. We have a promo picture on file of the five of you from when I flew to Seattle to personally sign you that will look good on the back. The bar’s name is in the background. It ties the two together nicely. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  I nodded. I did actually. I wasn’t too wild about doing a self-portrait, but I liked her idea so much I wasn’t going to complain about it. I was a part of this band. I had to be in the picture like everyone else. It just wouldn’t be right otherwise.

  “Good. It’s settled, Mr. Reed. Come up to the house with the finished drawing as soon as you have it. And I’ll send a car around to pick all of you up for a meeting in my office tomorrow at noon. We’ll go through the final product and make any necessary changes. You’ll want to take your things with you because after that you’re free to leave.” There were high fives, fist bumps and whoops of celebration that nearly drowned out the sound of her heels clacking on the hardwoods as she crossed the room and handed me the sketch pad.

  She pulled me aside. “I removed the drawing you did for me,” she said low in a volume that didn’t carry beyond the two of us. “I believe we’re square now.”

  I nodded, and she turned around.

  “You did well, gentlemen.” Approval rang in her tone. She tugged the hem of her tailored jacket. “I’m proud to have the Black Cat label on this project. I believe it’s the best work you’ve done to date.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Sager

  “Hey, Blue,” I said when she answered her cell. “How’s it going? Are you on your way into town?”

  “I’m on the bus from Whistler now.”

  “I figured.” I could hear the road noise in the background. “You still scheduled to do photos and stuff tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Really early in the morning. I’m bummed. I was hoping to sleep in tomorrow.” She yawned.

  “I wish I were with you, and we could sleep in together,” I said low knowing if I were in bed with her the last thing we would probably be doing would be sleeping.

  “I do, too,” she admitted surprising me. Though she seemed with me most of the time, I could tell she measured her words and held back from giving me everything I wanted, which was all of her.

  “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

  “How?” she asked. “Did you finish the album?”

  “Yeah. We recorded the last song this afternoon. It sounds pretty good, even with me singing.”

  “You’re doing lead vocals on it?” She suddenly sounded wide awake.

  “Uh-huh. The guys insisted. That part’s just ok.”

  “I’m sure you’re underselling it.”

  “Um, no offense, Blue, but how would you know?”

  “Because I’ve heard you sing. Most recently in my condo. But also back when we danced together at the Mine. You sang ‘Wonderwall’ in my ear. You’re not a screamer like War. You’re a crooner. Your voice is more seductive and subtle than his. That’s just as compelling in my opinion.”

  “Thanks.” I felt my lips lifting into a wide grin something Dizzy had pointed out that I’d been doing a lot since Whistler—because of her. She had been in the music business for a long time. She had a good ear. Though our taste in music differed, we both valued strong vocals and thought provoking lyrics. I’d heard other musicians asking for her opinion. Her praise meant a lot to me. She meant a lot to me.

  “It’s the truth, but you’re welcome.”

  “I have other good news.” I scooted to the edge of the bed, glancing at my packed duffle near the door, hearing the others banging around in their rooms. It had been cool to be together, to accomplish what we had as a band, but I knew we were all eager to be shot of the carriage house. “Tempest is debuting ‘Liquor and Lies’ on Carter Besille’s show this Friday, and since you’re competing at Sugarloaf on Friday, I was thinking I could fly up to watch, if that would be alright.”

  “Ahhh!!!” she screamed.

  I pulled the cell away from my ear too late. “You busted my eardrum, babe.” My grin broadened. “But I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “A hell yes, Sager.” She was quiet for a minute. I heard the murmurs of passenger conversations on her end of the connection. “You’ll be the only one out there to cheer for me besides Katherine.”

  “You’ve got your other teammates,” I pointed out.

  “Unlikely.” She made a disbelieving noise. “People are acting all pissy about me having a personal coach. Plus, they’ve seen all the new equipment Black Cat bought me. Let’s just say I’m even less popular than ever.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s ok. It’s a double edged sword. Be accepted and broke or resented and flush. I prefer the latter, thank you very much.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  She said something low that sounded like she approved of that title. But before I could get into it with her, to explain that I very much wanted her to assume that role, she took off on a tangent that had been the only real point of contention between us since I had reconnected with her.

  My younger brother.

  “What we were talking about last night on the phone…”

  “Don’t, Blue,” I cut her off. “You said your piece. I listened. But I don’t want to discuss it anymore.”

  “But Jude is thirteen now, Sager. And you really don’t know what he wants since you haven’t talked to him in eight years.”

  “There’s a reason for that. I told you that all he remembers is me coming unhinged. He doesn’t remember any of the events that preceded that night. He’s suppressed all the rest in his subconscious somewhere which is a good thing.” I was all for whatever helped him move on with the fewest emotional scars even if it meant he was forever lost to me.

  “But life’s too tenuous to let go of the people you care about the most, right?” She sounded like Avery had the other night at Tojo’s. “There’s a big hole inside of you without him. At least contact the couple who adopted him. Find out how he is doing for real instead of just watching him from your car. Maybe he is missing you as much as you miss him.”

  “Big hole in your life without your best friend, too, Blue.” If she was giving out tough advice, I was going to throw out some, too.

  I heard her sharp inhale. “That’s different,” she whispered. “You know that door got slammed in my face.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, babe. And I get that you mean well about Jude. But you only know the facts about what happened. The experience was a lot more brutal. There was more than just yelling and throwing shit where I grew up.” Every day it had been a challenge to survive. On the streets, gang bangers more well-armed than the cops had prowled around looking for violent ways to expand their territo
ry. Inside our apartment my brother had plotted and planned to carve out his own piece of a twenty-four seven nightmare that we couldn’t escape. The locals referred to the section of Southside where Jude and I had lived with our older brother simply as ‘The Wasteland’.

  “Ok. I’m sorry.” She sounded defeated. “It’s just hard for me to let it go when I know how much he means to you.”

  “I understand.” She wanted to fix it. It was a part of her personality that most didn’t see at first glance. A sensitive heart lay beneath her vibrant personality. I had uncovered it, and I wasn’t the only one. April knew. Dizzy, too. So did Montana, the owner of the Mine. Melinda never turned down any plea for help. She covered a shift at the Mine whenever anyone needed her to, and then promptly paid the tips she had earned forward in support of whatever cause she was passionate about at that moment. And there had been many since I had known her. Rescuing stranded whales. Sponsoring refugees. Saving an inner city park. Jude and I were just her latest project. I suspected her fixation was partly that she didn’t want me separated from the only redeemable family relationship I had left, and partly because deep down she thought if she could fix me and Jude that it might cement my affection for her. What she didn’t realize was that it was already rock solid. She had as skewed a view of how relationships worked as she did about her body image. Both I knew were largely due to her father. I saw how he was with her. I had overheard his criticisms on more than one occasion. But I also knew if I tried to tell her how I felt at this juncture she wouldn’t believe me. I was committed to convincing her no matter how long it took. I only hoped it didn’t take too long. I didn’t want to give her another opportunity to slip through my fingers. I couldn’t handle a second separation. I wasn’t entirely sure she could, either.

  • • •

  Melinda

  By the time we reached the fiftieth take of me walking through Black Cat’s front door and delivering the same damn line with only minute changes in my inflection, I was ready to pull my hair out. I would rather have been put through the torture of jumping drills with Katherine than to do it one more time. Plus I was freezing. Snow had been coming down steadily over the past hour and it was piling up in loose drifts on the sidewalk.

  “That’s a wrap.” The bright blinding light of the camera clicked off, and I exhaled my relief even though the temperature dropped at least ten degrees without the heat of it blasting me.

  “Come see the last one.” Beth Tate waved me over to where she was standing. I quickly crossed to her and peeked through the camera viewfinder. It was good. The snowflakes were like crystal accents on my black hair and lashes, a really cool effect. My lines were delivered pretty well. They almost seemed natural and unrehearsed, but I couldn’t completely approve because I hated how heavy I looked on camera. Frowning, I withdrew my head from under the curtain that kept the glare off the screen.

  Beth gave me a sideways glance. “I don’t like to look at myself on film,” I explained. “I’m much more comfortable in the studio. Is it ok if I change into my regular clothes and record the vocals for the commercial?”

  “Sure. Dalton came in early to help you. He’s also finishing up the Tempest album. He’s manning the soundboard in the smaller studio, number five.”

  I waved over my shoulder to acknowledge that I had heard her and hurried through the front doors. A wave of much warmer air hit me as I passed the receptionist, Karen, who was on the phone, not surprisingly. I turned and quickly moved down the long familiar corridor stopping in front of the open doorway at studio five. War’s recorded primal yell nearly knocked me back into the opposite wall. Black Cat Records’ best sound technician turned away from the soundboard and grinned. He was an unabashed Tempest fan.

  “I’m just gonna change into some yoga pants and stuff,” I informed him. “I’ll be back in a few.” He nodded his spiky haired head at me. I continued to the end of the hall where the restrooms were. I was eager to be through with this part of my day. I was hoping for a little down time before I had to complete the interviews for the ski magazines. I was planning to pop my headphones on, do some time on the treadmill to get rid of that stubborn extra weight while listening to the audio version of the paranormal book Sager recommended. I wasn’t a reader like him, but I appreciated a good story. The audio was done well, and going through the same book together was something we could share even when we were apart. I felt the need to cram a lifetime of memories with him into every day before the inevitable separation occurred.

  When I entered the studio my hair was pulled back into a braid. I felt more comfortable in my yoga jacket and well-worn sneakers. I took my Martin out of its case and started tuning it with my hip leaning on the only stool in the tiny soundproofed room.

  After making a few minor adjustments I lifted my gaze to the glass. “Thanks for bringing in my guitar, Dalton.”

  “Don’t mention it, Bluebelle.” His voice boomed over the mic connection. “I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

  I nodded, smoothing my fingers over the glossy wood of the guitar my dad had given me for my twelfth birthday. Clipping on the strap, balancing the instrument, I lowered my head and immediately lost myself in the melody. It was a simple song, one I had composed not long after I had first picked up a guitar. Music lessons on the piano since age four had made the transition relatively easy.

  I was just about to ask Dalton to start recording me when my cell vibrated. Heart rate kicking up in anticipation, so wanting to hear his voice, I withdrew my phone from my pocket and slid the unlock bar without even bothering to glance at the display.

  “Hello,” I said sounding a little breathy.

  “Belle, baby.” Tyler oozed his charming voice, the one I had convinced myself was as good as Sager’s.

  “Tyler, hey. This isn’t a good time. I’m in the middle of something. Is this important?”

  “Fuck yeah, it’s important. I called your roommate out in Whistler. She said that rocker guy spent the night with you.” I sighed. “I know we didn’t say anything about being exclusive, but I think we need to talk about this. In person.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary. I think you know we’re through. I would have told you the other night when you called, but I wasn’t ready to get into it because I was so exhausted. I’m still really tired. Let’s just end it on the phone right now. It was fun while it lasted, but it’s done. Ok?”

  “Uh-uh. You owe me at least five minutes of your time, baby. We were friends before we slept together. I want to be sure that can still be the case. You know I don’t have a ton of people I can trust, but you’re one of them. I think maybe I’m one for you, too. Come over to my room at the Sutton. I know your new boyfriend is staying here, too. Surely he’s not so insecure that he won’t let you talk to me for a couple of minutes.”

  Sager was the opposite of insecure. But I didn’t think he would really like me talking to the Canuck goalie in his room. On the other hand, I wanted closure, and Tyler deserved it. We were friends. We had been better as friends than lovers. He had been very kind and helped me out of the pit I had fallen into a month ago. What harm would it do to talk to him? It would be the mature thing to do. I needed to figure out how to hold onto my friends instead of losing them.

  “Alright. It’ll be after dinner though,” I warned him. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Sager

  With the revised sketch in my hand, I waited outside the closed doors of Mary’s home office after assuring her butler that I didn’t require anything. I could see her silhouette through the wavy glass. She was at her desk. I could hear her on the phone with someone. Her voice sounded different. Less reserved. Lighter.

  “No, Charles for the last time. I will not go away with you.”

  “No.” She laughed, and I realized with a start that in all the time I had known her I had never actually heard her laugh before. “I know you are getting a divorce but that doesn’t change anythi
ng. I know your reputation. I’m not interested in being your latest booty call. I honestly don’t know why Annabelle put up with all of that for as long as she did. If it had been me and you had strayed I would have kicked you to the curb much quicker.”

  “No.” I could almost see her roll her eyes. “That was not a hint that I want to reapply for the job.”

  “No.” She laughed again. “Better get used to hearing that word from me. It’s not going to ever be yes. Not even for Hawaii. Though you’re right, it still is one of my favorite places.”

  She was quiet a long moment.

  “I remember that day, too. The hike to the waterfall. The rainbow and that incredible view.”

  Another pause.

  “Don’t go there.” Her tone turned firm and maybe a little unsteady. “I agreed to keep a dialogue open between us in exchange for Warren Jinkins, but I didn’t agree to reminisce with you about our honeymoon.”

  Mary Timmons and Charles Morris had been married. To each other. I started to connect the dots. My eyes widened. Had Adam been their child?

  “Stop talking like a lawyer. I know I agreed not to put any restrictions on our weekly conversations, but I would prefer it if you steered clear of the subject of our marriage.”

  She sighed at whatever he said. “It was beautiful while it lasted. He was the best part of both of us. But the woman you knew then is gone. I let her go after we lost him all those years ago, and if you’re being totally honest with yourself you’d admit that you aren’t the same man you were back then, either. Let it go, Charles. All of it. Please.”

  “Oh. Someone’s here to see me.” She must have noticed me through the glass. “Yes.” Another long sigh. “I agreed. Some of us keep our promises. I’ll talk to you at the same time next week.”

  I saw her stand, her shadowy form becoming more distinct as she approached the door. She pulled it open keeping her expression neutral while she studied me, no doubt trying to figure out how much I had overheard. “Come in, Mr. Reed. I’m guessing you have the finished product.”