by Sofia Grey
Sylvie heard Alex bumping around early on Tuesday morning and singing to himself as he trotted down the stairs. He had a really good voice. She picked up her phone and squinted at the time. Six thirty. Rico might be up by now, so she sent him a quick text.
Morning. Dreamed about you last night. Can’t wait to see you on Friday. Have a great day, S XXX
With a yawn, she rolled over, snuggled under the duvet, and went back to sleep. When she finally ambled downstairs, it was closer to nine thirty. She found Alex in the kitchen, hunched over his PRS, the cold dregs of a coffee pot on the counter.
“Morning,” she said, amused when he looked up, startled. “How’s it going today? Would you like me to make some fresh coffee?”
“Yeah, please. I haven’t mastered coffee yet.” He bounced through a few more notes on the guitar and drifted back to his own little world. She left him to it while she made the drinks. She’d seen her brothers engrossed in their music many times, and she knew how it got them. Other musicians were probably the same.
Alex sighed in an exaggerated way and leaned the guitar against the table. “I also haven’t mastered bloody “Aurora” yet. The timing is doing my head in.” He strode to the window and stared out for a moment. “I hate playing other people’s stuff,” he grumbled, half to himself.
She stared at the PRS and the awkward angle it stood. It didn’t look safe there. While his back was turned, she adjusted it to a more secure position, then returned to the coffee pot. She plunged the filter and poured two steaming mugs, before presenting one to Alex. He took it with a grateful smile, and she thought back to his comment. “Do you normally write your own, then? Material, I mean. You said you hate playing other people’s stuff.”
“There’s something—” He paused as his mobile beeped. “Damn. Hang on.” He tapped out a text, and then looked back up at Sylvie moments before someone rang the doorbell. “It’s Jordan. He said he was on his way.”
Sylvie liked Jordan, and knew from Rico he was loyal and honest. He looked a touch uncomfortable this morning, though, and sat at the table with an envelope in his hands.
“Thanks,” he said, when she poured him a cup of coffee. “You know, I wasn’t sure how long we could keep things quiet, but now that Louisa has seen Sylvie—or Sizzle, as she called her”—he raised his eyebrows at Alex, who grinned—“she spoke to Kate, of course.”
Alex pulled a mock-worried face and perched on the edge of the table. He tugged the guitar onto his lap and tinkered with it, creating a little wave of background noise. “So am I in trouble with Kate?”
“Well I am, so I guess you are too.”
Sylvie had no idea what they were talking about, but neither of them looked concerned. She fixed herself a bowl of cereal and sat at the far end of the table, curious to hear the discussion.
“So Kate sent me across with this for you.” Jordan handed over the envelope. “Please note, Alex, she sent me with this. A phone call or text wouldn’t satisfy her.”
Sylvie leaned forwards. “Is Kate your wife?”
Jordan smiled. “Yeah. Alex didn’t mention her?”
“Only in passing.”
He nodded, and they watched Alex extracting a small sheet of paper, hampered by the PRS balanced across his knees. He scanned the note, chuckled, then read it aloud.
Hi Alex. Party-planning session tonight, 7 p.m. I need your input, so please make sure you are here.
I know you’ve been busy, and I hate to interrupt your fun with Sizzle, so please bring her along. I’ll be meeting her soon anyway (I guess??) so you may as well introduce her now.
I’m so excited you’re going to play for us on Saturday. Thank you so much!
See you later,
Kate
PS – It’s homemade pizza tonight
“Oh, man,” Alex said. “That’s cruel. She’s making pizza. How can we refuse?”
Jordan snorted with laughter. “She knows which buttons to push. You went mad for her pizza last time, as I recall.”
“Kate is a fantastic cook,” said Alex. “I can’t believe Jordan stays as thin as he does, and her pizza is to die for.”
“There’s something you should know.” Jordan looked highly amused. “Louisa put two and two together and made a hundred. She decided Sizzle is your new girlfriend, so be prepared for a medium-level interrogation.”
“Ouch.” Alex looked serious. “It does raise the question. How much do we say?”
Jordan shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it on the way over. There’s no point in pretending you’re a couple. Rico will be here this weekend anyway, so it would look a little weird. Let’s keep it simple. Sizzle is your new temporary bass player. Maybe the friend of a friend? You might be working on your new material with her. That would explain why you don’t know each other very well, and Rico’s presence.”
Sylvie nodded, pleased. “It sounds plausible to me.”
“That’s good.” Jordan stood. “One last thing. Kate was most insistent I take an answer back with me. I can’t leave without it, and I’m already in the doghouse, for not telling her about—ah—Sizzle.”
Alex laughed. “No probs. Hang on a minute.” He retrieved a pen and scrawled across the bottom of the note, then read his words aloud.
Yes, please. 7 p.m. is fine. Sizzle and I will see you later. Alex
“Actually, there’s something I want to ask you.” He handed the note back to Jordan. “I was kinda hoping to get down to London a couple of days at the end of next week. Maybe for the weekend. If Sylvie is still here, I’m assuming Rico will be too, but will you be around? If they need anything?”
“Yeah, I don’t think we’ve plans to go away anytime soon.” Jordan frowned. Perhaps Alex didn’t go to London very often.
“Cheers, man. I don’t want to jinx things by saying too much, but I’m meeting up with Maz, the girl I was telling you about. The one from years back.”
A broad smile lit Jordan’s face. “Well done, Alex, and good luck. I hope it goes well.”
After Jordan left, Sylvie resumed her practice upstairs, while Alex went back to his studio. As excited as she was to see Rico and to perform at Kate’s party, this was only ever going to be a temporary break. Alex was lovely, and she was having a blast playing on such amazing kit, but she wanted her life back.
Chapter Nineteen
Alex fully intended to talk to Sylvie before they walked to Kate’s dinner, but the opportunity didn’t arise. He had a surge of inspiration for new material and stayed in the studio all afternoon, writing and recording. It was only when Sylvie knocked on the door shortly before seven, that he remembered their plans for the evening. He apologised profusely, grabbed a couple bottles of wine, and they set off.
He decided to walk the long way around, down his drive and up Jordan’s, rather than leaping the stream in the darkness.
They walked side by side, and she glanced up at him. “So Maz is your girlfriend?”
“Ex. A long time ago.”
“But you’re getting back together?”
“Dunno. I guess I’ll see how it goes.”
“Was she the one who got away?”
He laughed, surprised. “How do you mean?”
“Well, everyone has one—the ex they wish wasn’t an ex. Or the one that never happened, that they wish did.”
“Way too complicated.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Who would yours be, then?”
“Good question. All my exes have been dicks, which is why they’re exes.”
“How about the one that never happened?”
“Hmm.” She fell silent. “I’m not sure. There was a rock star I crushed on, big time.”
Fuck. Alex didn’t know what to say, if she said him. “Who?” He asked, his throat tight.
“Gav Murphy.”
“Who?”
“The lead singer of Pretty Dolls. You never heard of him?”
The name clicked into place in Alex’s head and stopped him in his tracks. He spun t
o face her. “That dick? I mean, he’s a complete arsehole.”
“Is he? He’s cute, though.”
Alex snorted his disbelief. “Trust me—he may look like a choirboy, but underneath that glossy exterior is a grade-A fuckwit.”
“How would you know?” She sounded interested rather than irritated, and it was the perfect opportunity for Alex to say that Pretty Dolls had opened for Event Horizon a few times. They were about to knock on Jordan’s front door, however, and he was going to duck the conversation. Again.
“I’ve met him, and I’ll tell you about it after we go home tonight. Okay?”
Kate and Louisa were as friendly to Sylvie as Alex expected, and they clicked together with ease. They all stuffed themselves on homemade pizza, and then settled down with Kate’s notebook, as she worked through more details of the party.
Alex confirmed he would have three spare bedrooms available for guests, if they were needed, and a vanload of bedroom furniture and linen arriving in the morning. He turned to say something to Jordan, and heard Sylvie mention Gav Murphy to Kate.
Kate laughed. “I’m sure Alex knows him. He knows everyone in the biz. Hey, Alex, didn’t Pretty Dolls support Event Horizon on your last UK tour?”
There was a horrible, doom-filled silence, and then Sylvie made a strangled noise and shoved her chair back. “You’re AJ?” Her voice was shrill, her face bright red.
Oh, fuck. This was going to be ugly. He wanted the floor to open and swallow him up, never to emerge again. He knew—he just knew—this would happen, and he felt like the biggest bastard ever. Meanwhile, Kate and Louisa stared open mouthed.
“You’re bloody AJ, from Event Horizon, and you never thought to mention it?” Sylvie asked.
Alex gazed at her and groped for something to say. He came up empty, and she charged on.
“You were going to say something, I hope, before the gig on Saturday night? Shit. I can’t believe it. You’ve been laughing at me behind your back, haven’t you? Did you think it was funny, making such an idiot of me?”
She swung around and stumbled towards the sink, and Jordan followed.
Alex should be doing that, but his ass might have been superglued to the chair.
Jordan rested an arm on her shoulders and spoke to her in a low voice, but she shrugged him off and stormed back to the table. Back to AJ.
“It’s not as though you haven’t had any opportunities. I even asked if you worked for TM-Tech.” She paused, as another thought hit her. “Does Rico know?”
“No.” Jordan was firm. “Rico had no reason to know. Alex likes his privacy.”
“You can’t expect me to play bass for you on Saturday.” Her voice was faint, as she stared at Alex.
He finally got his shit together and scrambled out of his chair. “Yes. Of course I do. I need you on Saturday, please don’t let me down. Please don’t let Kate and Jordan down.”
She stared at him, eyes huge in her face.
“I was embarrassed to say anything. It’s not the kind of thing you bring up in conversation, is it? Hi, I’m AJ. I used to be a rock star, whereas now I live in solitude, and don’t do anything.” He tried a coaxing smile and held out a hand to her. “Come on, Sizzle. Let’s try to laugh about this.”
He tugged her into the empty chair next to his own. “When I came to live here, I was a mess. I drank way too much, was suspicious of everyone, and hated everything about my life. Jordan and Kate turned it around for me, as did Louisa. They are such good people—kind, generous, and trusting—that I wanted to give them something back. That’s why I suggested re-forming the band to play at Kate’s party. There was no other reason.”
She flicked a glance around the table, but it looked as though she was relenting a little.
“I wasn’t expecting you to turn up on my doorstep, let alone that you’d be a brilliant bass player,” he said. “And you are. Don’t knock yourself. You’ve got all those numbers nailed already, while I’m still struggling with at least two of them. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I let you find out like this. It was one of those stupid situations, where the longer it went on, the harder it was to put right. Believe me, I wish I’d said something earlier.” He tried a smile. “I was enjoying being Alex. Just an ordinary guy. I was absolutely not laughing at you behind your back. I don’t do that sort of thing. It’s ironic. I value honesty so highly, but I wasn’t honest with you. I’m truly sorry. Can you forgive me?”
Alex’s world shrank to the little bubble that surrounded himself and Sylvie.
She scrubbed at her eyes, but there was a flicker of an answering smile. “You still want me to play on Saturday?” It came out as a whisper.
“Yes.” He leaned forwards. She was close enough to kiss. He waited and prayed silently for her to forgive him.
“Okay.” She nodded, and Alex sighed in relief.
“Thank you.” He slipped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her. Dropping an affectionate kiss on the top of her head, he murmured again, “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”
They separated, and Sylvie giggled. Alex handed her a glass of wine, and she laughed harder. “I even asked if you owned a string of music shops,” she said. “I played your bloody CDs and never guessed.”
“I’m an asshole,” he suggested.
“Yes, but one who knows Gav Murphy. So come on. You have to tell me that story now.”
* * * *
Tuesday was another frustrating day of zero progress for Marcus. He didn’t even have the luxury of dinner with Marianne to look forward to. She was going to the movies with Aiden. Once again Marcus worked late, and then went back to his empty apartment and contemplated how fucked up his life was.
After several bourbons, he pulled the plug on his pity party and decided to text Marianne. He could pretend it was work related. It was only ten thirty, not too late.
Hi, Marianne. You finished with the spook yet? M
She didn’t reply straight away. What was she doing? He’d no right to get jealous about her love life; he was married, for Christ’s sake. Still, the fantasy of leaving Louisa and moving in with Marianne lingered. He was tangled so deeply, he could no longer imagine a life without her—from her sheer black stockings and sharp business suits, to the sexy smile. He knew she wore expensive lingerie beneath the crisp exterior, and that she had a tiny mole at the very top of her right thigh. He was smitten.
It was another bourbon later, when his phone finally buzzed.
Went to the movies. Just getting a taxi back to my apartment. What are you doing up so late?
He blew out a relieved breath. He feared she was avoiding him.
Thinking about you. Wanna meet for a drink?
He waited a few impatient minutes before she replied.
Just a quickie. Where?
This was more like it. Reckless now, he tapped out a rapid reply.
My apartment ASAP. Bourbon or champagne. Your choice. Bring condoms.
Her reply made him laugh.
A gentleman, huh? See you in 15 mins. Champagne pls. M xx
At last, the night was looking up.
* * * *
Sylvie felt like an idiot. As she lay in bed and gazed at the weak morning light, she burned with embarrassment again. She’d replayed all their conversations in her head and groaned multiple times at her faux pas.
She ticked them off against her fingers. When she assumed Alex worked at TM-Tech. When she asked him if he was a collector or if he played. When she asked if they’d need a vocalist. It was funny really. When she told Rico last night, he found it hilarious.
She felt sorry for Kate, though. Poor woman was mortified when she realised it was something she said that clicked it for Sylvie. Sylvie was glad about it now; she might still be in blissful ignorance, and Alex—she couldn’t think of him as AJ—would be trying to find a way to explain.
Sylvie sat up and hugged her knees, excitement buzzing through her veins. Not only was she going to see Event Horizon perform live
at their comeback gig, but she was going to play bass for them. What would her brothers say when they heard?
The last couple of weeks had a dreamlike quality to them. Perhaps she’d wake and find herself in her old room, looking forward to a day at TM-Tech.
Thinking of work... Rico said they’d made no progress yet. How long would it take?
Today was Wednesday, and he’d be here on Friday night, possibly with Marcus and Marianne. Sylvie’d never spoken to Marcus and was uncomfortable about seeing Marianne again, especially after being suspended. She didn’t have to socialise with her, though. There’d be plenty of other people at the party, and Marianne would most likely be staying in a hotel.
Sylvie went downstairs to brew some coffee and found AJ hunched over his PRS, battling with “Aurora” again in the kitchen.
“Morning,” she said, and yawned as she went for the coffee pot. “How is the world of rock god-dom today?”
“Ha ha. Very funny.” He sounded cranky, and she said nothing more until she slid a mug of steaming black coffee in front of him.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Alex sighed. “Sorry I snapped. I can’t get the timing right, and it’s doing my fucking head in.” He took a slurp of coffee and smiled in appreciation. “The bass line in “Aurora” sucks too. If you’re struggling with it, maybe we should reconsider?”
She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “I’ve got the bass line perfect, thank you. I love the bass in “Aurora”.” She paused and smiled mischievously. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your difficulties would it? I’m sure Kate said it’s Anita’s favourite song.”
Alex flushed and gazed down at his guitar. He looked uncomfortable, and she felt sorry for teasing.
“Have you tried looking on YouTube?” she asked.
“Huh?
“Well, yeah. It’s full of people showing how to play numbers. It’ll be there somewhere. Where’s your laptop?”
Minutes later, she logged into YouTube and did a quick search for Foo Fighters Aurora tutorial. She soon found a guy playing the opening chords, slow and simple, showing the fingering and explaining the timing. Alex was reluctant at first, but he watched closely, listened a few times, tried to play it again—and got it.
