Bad Boy vs Millionaire (12 page)

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the end of the night, it looked like Storm would not be getting off stage, with everyone screaming for more. Jack peered into the crowd with his hand shading his eyes. He looked like he was about to say something. A few voices screamed out “Jack” from around the room but he ignored them. He bent down and took a slug of his beer, slow and deliberate, then crushed the can and hurled it through the crowd. Everyone sucked in their breath as the can spun over them, landing right on target and bashing Tamaki on the forehead.

While
it was a stupid thing to do, I couldn't help but admire the accuracy of his aim. All eyes had turned on Tamaki to see his reaction. He glared at Jack, his eyes flashing with hatred then Hannah put her arm around him and led him out of the room.

“
This party's just getting started,” screamed Jack and he launched into a screeching wail of guitar.

After
getting Tamaki home and bandaged up, I sent Angie a message to look after the band stuff. There wasn't that much to do anyway.

“
Can you stay with me a while?” Tamaki asked.

I
nodded, feeling a little bit guilty. I should've told him to leave straight away but I wanted to stick around to watch the band and didn’t want him making a fuss. He’d chosen to turn up, that was just asking for trouble, but he'd looked so out of place and lonely.

At
least Vicious was pleased to see us when we got home.

“
I should take him out for a run,” Tamaki said. “Come with us, there is a nice little park around the corner.”

Vicious
jumped with joy when he saw Tamaki get out his lead. He danced around in little circles and hopped from foot to foot. I just wanted to pick him up in my arms and smish him.

Vicious
sniffed at everything on the way and it took us forever to get to the park but I didn't mind. It cleared my head to be out walking in the fresh night air. Snatches of sound drifted past us from nearby apartments, music and television, people arguing. We walked shoulder to shoulder while Vicious pranced beside us.

Then
Tamaki slipped his hand into mine. I wasn't sure if I was comfortable with that but I didn't pull away. It wasn't anything much, just holding hands. His hand felt warm and soft. He just held it there, barely pressing it against mine. Not squeezing or adding any pressure. It made me wonder if it was a friendly gesture or something more.

Then
Vicious tugged on his lead, spotting something that smelt good up ahead. He'd found some food that had been dropped on the street and quickly gobbled it up.

“
Sheesh, Vicious, will you eat anything?”

Tamaki
turned and studied my face in a way that made me a little uncomfortable.

“
You sound like your friend, Angie, when you talk like that.”

“
Is that a bad thing?” I'd noticed I'd picked up some of Angie's sayings and ways of phrasing things. I guess that happens when you hang out with someone.

“
It's not suited to you, I think, Hannah.”

I
wasn’t sure how to take that but didn’t say anything.

We
got to the park and Vicious enjoyed his run around even though Tamaki kept him on the lead.

“
You should let him run free,” I said.

“
I can't do that. What if he ran off and got hit by traffic?”

I'm
not sure what traffic he meant. There were no cars on the roads. Vicious didn't look like he'd run very far anyway, he only had tiny little stumpy legs, I was pretty sure we could catch him before he got anywhere near the road.

“
It is better for him to be protected,” Tamaki added. “Life can be dangerous and Vicious has become very precious to me. Anyway, let's head back now.”

When
I got back to Tamaki's apartment, he asked me in for a nightcap.

“
My head is throbbing,” he said. “I should sue that man for throwing a can at me. He did it on purpose.”

Tamaki
sat two wine glasses on the coffee table.

“
But you can't do that. If you sue him then you are suing me. I'm his manager.” Shit, I hadn’t even thought of that. To be honest, I don’t think his injury was that bad. It was just a scrape. He’d been okay to go for a walk to the park so he hardly had concussion.

“
Maybe you should be careful around him. He is not a man to be trusted, I think.”

I
wanted to fight for Jack's reputation. I mean, I'd never actually seen him do anything violent before. Not knowingly. But even the night terrors he experienced, they had to come from somewhere. I had no idea where that kind of damage had even come from or what had broken him. It scared me. It scared me to be around him sometimes in case it happened again. Maybe that's why he was such a womaniser. It was easier for him to keep things casual than to develop a relationship that involved spending the entire night with someone, waking up the next morning and wondering if he'd hurt her.

Or
maybe he was just a womaniser? After all he was a man, a very hot man. He could get away with that.

Tamaki
poured the wine and we talked for a while.

When
Tamaki left the room, I noticed some papers sitting on the shelf under his coffee table. I'm not a snoop but I pulled them out to have a look. Okay, that was being a snoop but I couldn't resist.

The
papers were printouts from websites, about transporting dogs overseas and the quarantine periods. Was he planning on taking Vicious home with him? But we were still looking for his owners. I'm sure they were very worried and upset about Vicious being missing, even if we hadn't heard from them. Which reminded me I needed to ask Angie how the search was going. I put the papers back, not wanting him to know I'd been prying but it really didn't sit well with me.

***

I met Tamaki for lunch. We’d met a few times for lunch. Since Angie was busy with her coursework and I pretty much had nothing to do other than the band stuff, I figured it was nice way to kill some time.

Tamaki
seemed to be not that busy with his business, which mostly involved setting up meetings and networking with various businesses. Eventually, they planned to open a branch here but he said he needed to lay the ground work first.

He'd
asked me to meet him at a Spanish place in the city. He liked to find fashionable places to eat, the kind of places that had long waiting lists for reservations, and he seemed to get great satisfaction at jumping the queue.

I'd
had to drop by the promotion company and pick up a bundle of posters for the tour before I met him.

“
What's that?” asked Tamaki, eyeing off the package.

I
told him what they were and a frown came over his face.

“
Are you sure it's a good idea to go to that man's place alone? I'll come with you. To protect you.” He rubbed his head as he said this, even though the graze from the can Jack had thrown had healed and left no mark.

I
laughed. Like I needed protecting. If Tamaki came with me, I'd probably have to end up protecting him.

“
It's fine. It's business. Eric will be there. Jack's fine anyway.”

The
waitress came over and we ordered a bunch of food.

“
Can you send me a message after you leave?” he asked. “Just to make me feel better.”

That
seemed incredibly unnecessary to me. I wanted to tell him no, I couldn't do that but he flashed me one of his charming smiles and I figured if he was going to worry too much, it would be easier to send him a text.

***

“So, we have to put up these posters?” Eric asked me.

I
shook my head. “No, the tour people have someone they use for that. No running around town slapping up posters in the middle of the night for this tour. These are just so you can see what they’re like. Of course, if you want to put some up, that's okay or use them for fan giveaways. That kind of thing.”

Jack
held up one of the posters. “I see what you meant about getting our name up big on the posters. I like it.”

Jack
didn’t look at me. He kept himself distant and I wondered if he was annoyed about what had happened at the gig. He should not have thrown that can. It was a stupid thing to do but I didn’t want to mention it and have an argument that would just go around in circles and achieve nothing but having him walk out.

There
was something exceptionally sexual about Jack in those tight jeans. Like he was exuding extra pheromones or something. I tried to look at the poster but my gaze kept wandering to the curve of his butt. My skin tingled just being near him.

I
had to ask the hard question. Even though a huge lump in my throat seemed to block the words. I'd had another motive in going there, apart from the posters. I needed to find things out.

“
So, have you made a decision…” I couldn't look at either of them, “… about signing with Blainsley?”

Eric
and Jack exchanged a look.

“
We've put them off for a while. It's a great opportunity but you work so hard for us. We want to make sure that the people there will work just as hard. We can't talk to anyone there until next week and we'll let you know how it goes.”

Jack
actually sounded like he was trying to make me feel better. That just made the lump in my throat get worse.

“
I guess I should get going,” I said, not wanting to stick around now the tension was in the air.

“
I'll walk you out,” said Eric.

I
didn't know why he wanted to do that. I mean, it was just the front door onto the street. It wasn’t as if I needed walking but when I got outside he said he wanted to talk.

“
It's hard for me to say this Hannah, but maybe it's a good idea for you not to come to the gigs for a while. It's not you. It's Tamaki. We really don't need that. Jack did the wrong thing and it makes me worried that he'll do it again. Maybe next time his aim won't be so sure and he'll get one of the fans.”

Eric
didn't look at me and I could tell it'd cost him a lot to say it.

“
I mean, I'm okay with you coming alone but Angie said that guy just showed up. We can't stop him from coming. It's not like we can ban him or anything, it's a public performance but I don't think he'd have any interest in turning up if you weren't there.”

I
nodded and patted Eric on the arm. It'd crush me not to go but I understood what he was saying. Jack was far too impetuous to control his temper and I was the cause of that. I didn't have to go to the next few gigs anyway. They were playing at places that liked to handle the door and the merchandise sales themselves. The band was more than capable of getting their own drinks and setting up if Angie couldn't make it.

“
It's fine, Eric. I just wish things weren't such a mess.” I tried to grin at him but I could feel it come out wonky because it really wasn’t fine at all.

I
couldn’t believe it when I got Jasmine’s text inviting me out for drinks. The last time I’d heard from her had been a few months ago. We’d been planning a girls’ weekend away and trying to work out which luxury resort would have the best cocktails. That had been a few days before Dad went missing.

Then
suddenly, when I tried to call her, her phone rang out and she hadn’t returned my messages. I wasn’t thick. I got the hint pretty fast. But still, I’d had nowhere to live and she’d been one of my closest friends throughout school. I’d thought she might have helped me out, maybe given me somewhere to stay for a while.

I
accepted the invitation, of course. If it went well, I’d be invited to house parties and on weekend trips away and all those other things I’d missed out on. My mind raced with the sparkling conversation and even more sparkling wines I’d be able to enjoy. It’d be so nice to be with people who shared common interests instead of music shit and obscure bands I knew nothing about. They were my people and we talked the same language.

I’d
be back, better than ever.

Plus
, you never burn bridges, especially when those bridges lead to influential families that might come in handy one day. I mean, this was why Dad had spent a small fortune on private schools and ballet lessons and lavish birthday parties.

I'd
never really fit in. Not in that fitting in way where you can do something crazy or outrageous and get away with it. It's not as if my family had been rich for generations. That, Dad said, is why I had to work harder. I had to accept every invitation and be seen in the right places, doing the right things and wearing the right clothes. But it'd been Dad who had destroyed all that, not me.

I
did not need to go to some stupid gig and watch Jack Colt strutting around on stage. I’d have people who appreciated me for who I was.

Still
, my stomach churned as I got ready to go out. I'd had my hair done, which had cost a fortune but natural blond doesn't come cheap. Because the weather had been stinking hot for the last few days, I searched in my wardrobe for something that would handle the heat.

I
had the designer clothes Dad had bought me in Japan but they were winter clothes. And I had the credit card he'd given me. I didn't want to rely on him any more than I had to.

After
piling everything I owned onto the floor, I found a dress I'd bought when I'd been shopping with Angie. Not a top label designer but a local indie label. It didn't seem that outstanding on the hanger but, when I tried it on, it looked made for me. The top fitted my body exactly and extenuated my boobs without being all low-cut, “look at me” sexy then the skirt flared out to swish around my legs. The apple green colour looked fantastic with my hair and the apple buttons all the way down the front were exceptionally cute. It had to be the winner, even if it was a bit too casual.

It
didn't take long to get to the cocktail lounge but it was steamy hot walking there. I prayed my hair didn’t frizz and that my makeup didn’t melt off my face. It was the kind of heat that seeped into the concrete footpaths and the brick walls so there was no escape. The kind of heat that sucked all the moisture out of your body and left you like a dried-out husk.

I
took the elevator up to the 21st floor and entered into the muted sounds of the understatedly elegant room with the cold air hitting my face. The thick carpet muffled my steps as I walked towards the deck at the other side of the room, where I knew my friends would be. No stained and sticky carpet there, like there’d be at the bar where the band played. No stale odor of beer either and no loud rock being played over the PA.

“
Hannah, how are you?” a voice screeched then arms flew to hug me, while air kisses almost touched my cheek.

“
Viola,” I said in greeting and stood back to look at my friend. In a glance, I took in the silvery dress hanging from her skeletal frame and the matching silver slingbacks. Viola had obviously been spending far too much time in the sun and looked as though she had a new nose as well. But that dress, I should've known she'd be in sparkles. I was totally underdressed.

“
Hannah, we haven't seen you for ages,” Viola said.

“
Way too long,” added Jasmine, who had on a far less sparkly but elegant red dress.

Because
you never got in contact with me or answered my calls, I thought. But I smiled and sat down, perching on the edge of the chair. Jasmine sat in a chair beside the chaise lounge, sipping a red cocktail that matched her dress. She grabbed my hand.

“
Isn't your dress just divine? Where did you get it?” She said it all breathy, as if it was some big secret. “You look so sweet, we seem positively overdressed. Did you get it in Japan?”

I
told her the name of the store.

“
Oh, fantastic.” Jasmine's eyes widened as though she wanted to say so much more. “How clever of you to get a find like that.”

My
stomach dropped. Now I was totally convinced I'd under dressed. Compliments like that from Jasmine only meant one thing. And that thing was the exact opposite of what her words said. I wanted to rush home and get changed. It’d be better to swelter in a designer label than look “sweet”.

Around
about now, the guys would be loading their gear in. Jack would be in that zoned out mood he got in before gigs, where he could only think about himself and wouldn’t talk to anyone. Spud would be muttering away under his breath, cursing someone for some stupid thing and Eric would be running around making sure everything was organised.

“
Yes, it's fantastic,” I replied.

I
waved the waiter and ordered a drink, while Jasmine told me about her new boyfriend. He worked in finance and had a gorgeous beach house.

“
See this bracelet?”

As
if I could miss the glare of diamonds on her wrist. She’d been flinging her arm around to make sure the diamonds caught the light. I’d never been fond of diamonds. They’d always seemed like something you wore when you were middle aged to me.

“
He bought it for me when we went to London. He totally spoils me but I love it.”

“
Wow, Jasmine, you're so lucky,” I answered. I twirled the ring on my finger, my grandmother's ring, and wondered what the time was.

Then
she started telling me the gossip as if she’d never left off. Who were these people she talked about? Did I know them or had she moved onto a new crowd? I couldn’t even remember half the names she mentioned. And had they both always been so bitchy and judgmental? If Angie or even Jack had something bad to say about someone, they’d say it straight to their face, not make double-edged comments.

I
searched my brain to find something that I could talk about, something that wasn't shopping or holidays or guys but there was nothing. They sure as hell wouldn't be interested in hearing about the band. I guess I could tell them about my trip to Tokyo but Jasmine was just as happy talking herself anyway. Why had I never noticed before how self-obsessed she was? And how fixated on money.

If
I'd fallen through a hole in the time/space continuum and landed somewhere in another dimension, I wouldn't have felt so out of place as I did in this bar with its sparkling chandeliers and furniture no doubt by the latest fashionable designer; with its unobtrusive background music and it's award winning bartenders — and mostly I would not have felt as out of place as I did with these people who tried so hard to sparkle but underneath it all seemed so flat and boring.

I
suppressed a yawn and wondered if it would be rude to leave. Jasmine’s voice went on and on like a tap dripping. I could barely deal with listening to her.

“
Have you heard about Samantha?” Viola asked, leaning in closer to me. “It's so bizarre. She's been dating a plumber! A plumber. Of all the things. Of course, I've not been able to look at her in the same way since. Not that I've seen much of her. Imagine if you invited her for lunch and he came along with her. It would just be embarrassing for him, not knowing which fork to use or anything about skiing. I really hope Sam comes to her senses. I mean, you can have a brief fling with people like that but you don't officially 'date' them.”

I
tried to work out if Viola was being intentionally mean or just oblivious. It was pretty obvious that they'd have been talking about me in the same way, back when I'd been on the front page of the paper as the scandal broke, with pictures of my rain drenched and bedraggled self alongside the news of my father's financial ruin. They'd have been sitting around, giggling and bitching. Now they were fawning all over me and turning their bitch radar on someone else. What did it matter to them who someone dated or how much money they had? I would much rather spend the night laughing and joking with Jack than with some boring rich dude.

“
Maybe Sam likes this guy. Maybe, even though he isn't rich, he's a really nice person.”

Viola
and Jasmine stared at me for a while as though unable to process what I'd said. They looked down at their drinks before exchanging a glance with each other. Then Viola laughed.

“
Ah, good one, Hannah. You almost had me fooled for a moment but I see what you are doing.”

It
became harder and harder to conceal my irritation. I gripped my glass, my fingers tightening. I thought about not burning bridges.

Jasmine
waved her fingers at the waiter and asked for another round of drinks.

“
So, I hear the new wardrobe isn't the only thing you bought back from Japan. Tell us all the details.”

It
really didn't take long for gossip to get around. I wondered how they had found out. Maybe my father had mentioned something to someone.

Jasmine
leaned in close, as if to hear some particularly interesting bit of news. I moved away from her as best I could. Her heavy perfume smothered me with its vanilla undertones.

“
I didn't bring anything home. I'm not sure what you are talking about.”

“
Oh, come on, Hannah,” said Viola. “Don't be coy.”

The
windows of the bar looked out over the lights of the city. Somewhere out there, the band would be about to go on stage; the crowd shouting out STORM and working themselves up into a frenzy. The excitement and anticipation in the air would be a tangible thing, like the rise in air pressure before a literal storm. Every single person there would be feeling the same thing.

It
made the bar feel frosty by comparison. Did I really want to spend my night hearing about Viola's latest shopping trip to Paris ― there was always a latest shopping trip to Paris ― or Jasmine's newest boyfriend? The one that would sleep with other girls behind her back or would get into trouble only to have his father bail him out. I didn't want to listen to their vaguely racist jokes or their laughing about people who couldn't afford to drive a new car to university. It all made me feel kind of sick and a whole lot bored as well. I couldn't believe those people had ever been my friends or that I had cared what they thought.

“
Sheesh, what the fuck do you think? I bought a rich boyfriend, potential husband, home with me? Do you want to hear all the details of his cock or some shit like that?”

“
Hannah, really…” Jasmine fanned herself with the menu. “There is no need to talk like that.”

“
Yeah, yeah, there is a need. It's what you wanted to know, you’d just put it in fancy words and then repeat it back to everyone you know.”

A
look passed between Jasmine and Viola.

“
Settle down, Hannah. I know the past few months have been rough for you. You need to remember who you are though.”

I
picked up my bag.

“
I know who I am. And I'm not some lousy rich bitch with nothing to do but smack talk other people. I'm out of here.”

I
walked towards the door, knowing that they were holding their breath for me to get in the elevator so they could safely let fly. I'd done it. I'd burnt the bridges.

When
I got to the street, the heat crashed through me. The heavy air made it hard to move. Still, the air felt lighter than the heavy atmosphere in that bar.

Then
it hit me, the reason why Jasmine and Viola irritated me so much. I’d not been seeing them through the eyes of the old Hannah, it’d been seeing them through the eyes of Jack Colt. His judgment of them superposing itself over my old images. The way he’d dismiss them as being unworthy of his attention.

And
it wasn’t them he was dismissing. It was me. The old me. When I’d first met him, I’d been Jasmine as she was in that bar. Hell, I must have been so awful. With that realization, I could almost forgive him for that awful bet with Spud and the dickish behaviour.

I
wondered what to do, where I could go, but even while I argued with myself, my feet walked in the direction of Jack Colt. I just had to cross the river and I'd be in the same room as him.