Bent not Broken (240 page)

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Authors: Lisa de Jong

BOOK: Bent not Broken
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“Mick?” CJ interjected behind me. “What would he have to do with it? He doesn’t have any control over that. That was all Blaine.”

I lifted a brow at Blaine, who was staring daggers at CJ. He was already pretty pissed at his cousin for his slip up the night before. I wouldn’t be surprised if Blaine had words with him later.

“So?” I asked, hoping to break his death glare.

Blaine turned to me and quirked a crooked smile. “I like the company.”

CJ snorted from behind me, but was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

“So you do make the schedule. Oh my God, don’t tell me you’re like my supervisor or something.”

CJ made a coughing noise behind me like he was choking, drawing the attention of Lidia, the waitress, who began to lightly pat him on the back.

“What are you guys talking about?” she asked. I liked Lidia, I really did, but she was extremely nosey.

CJ wrapped an arm around Lidia’s waist and gestured towards Blaine with a jut of his chin. “Blaine here was just explaining to Kami why he makes the schedule and not my pops.”

Lidia shrugged and placed a hand on her hip. “Well, it’s his bar. He can make the schedule however he wants, as long as I keep getting Wednesday nights off for my Zumba class.”

His
bar?

“Blaine?” I didn’t need to say anymore. Either he would be honest with me, or he would lie to my face. I hoped to God it wasn’t the latter.

“Let me explain, Kami,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

That was all I needed to hear. Out of sheer humiliation, I turned and went straight to the back room that housed the employee lockers. I had done it again. I had gotten involved with my boss, the very thing I had vowed not to do again. No wonder Kenneth was such a prick towards me. I probably looked like some slut that just screwed whoever was in charge.

“Watch the bar, motherfucker,” I heard Blaine growl before heavy footsteps approached the room. He left the door cracked and looked down at me, remorse written all over his face.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

Blaine worked the barbell in his mouth, contemplating his answer, while I forced myself not to watch with rapt fascination. “Yes,” he finally answered.

“When?”

He took a step towards me but kept his distance. I was glad for the space. With my heightened emotions, I would either slap him or kiss him. At that moment, I wanted to do neither.

“Eventually. When it came up.”

“When it came up?” I shouted, disregarding the bar full of patrons. “Blaine, we work together just about every day. We’ve gone out on a date. Shit, we’ve spent the night together twice! You’ve had ample opportunity.”

“I know, Kami, I just didn’t think it mattered. It’s just a bar.” He ran a frustrated hand through his already mussed hair.

“Yeah. The bar I work at. Holy shit, I’m your employee. Do you know how this would make me look to everyone else? And you claim you want me to be yours?”

He closed the distance between us in three long strides and imprisoned my face in his large, inked hands. “I
do
want that.
Fuck
, I want that more than anything. Don’t you think I wanted to tell you? That I went over the scenario in my head a thousand times? Kami, if you knew I owned this place, you never would’ve given me the time of day. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I couldn’t. I couldn’t disagree with him there. I took a deep breath and shook my head anyway. “But now look. Now I feel like you’ve been lying to me all this time. I feel like such a damn fool, Blaine! I trusted you.”

“Baby, you can still trust me. I’m still the same man that is fucking crazy about you. Still the same guy that is obsessed with these lips,” he murmured, running a thumb along my bottom one. “This changes nothing, I swear.”

“But what will the other employees think?”

Blaine shrugged. “If they have something to say, they can walk.”

Without warning, his lips were hot against mine, coaxing my mouth open so his tongue could meld with mine. His kiss was full of apology and regret. It begged for understanding. It needed my forgiveness. His lips needed me to let my guard down and free fall into the unknown with him.

“You’re crazy about me?” I asked breathlessly, once his mouth left mine.

“Fucking crazy,” he smiled.

“Well,” I said wrapping my arms around his neck. “You better get your crazy ass out there before your cousin drinks you dry.”

He chuckled, and the sound chipped at the crumbling walls around my heart just a bit more. “Yeah, you’re probably right. So hard to find good help nowadays.” And with that, Blaine palmed my backside and squeezed, making me squeal. After I gave his rock-solid bicep a playful smack, he grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the door.

“Oh, Ms. Patty has been asking when you’ll be back by the diner.”

I reached on my tiptoes and gave him a swift peck on the cheek just before we passed the threshold of the door. “Well, I have to see if my boss will give me a day off. He likes to work me for long, hard hours.”

Blaine chuckled again, and the barriers in my chest came crashing down.

Yeah. I was pretty fucking crazy about him too.

****

The next few days passed in a blur of flirty banter, longing stares, and hidden kisses when no one was watching. I returned to Ms. Patty’s diner with Blaine, subjecting him to all types of loving torture from her and Mavis. Apparently, he was telling the truth about never bringing a date to the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that appeared quainter than dilapidated the second time around. Maybe it was getting to know Ms. Patty and the love she had for Blaine. Maybe it was being there with him, smiling around a mouthful of waffles. Whatever it was, I was thankful that he made it known that he wanted me in his life. I wanted him in mine…I just didn’t know how.

“Hey babe, pass me that Grenadine,” Blaine said, pointing to the bottle of red syrup.

I snagged the bottle and handed it to him, giving him a wink before sashaying towards the next customer. It was Thursday, and word had gotten out about Dive’s Open Mic Night. We were busier than last week, but it was nothing that we couldn’t handle.

“Hey sweets!” Angel squealed, nearly propping herself on the bar to leave a kiss on my cheek.

“You and the girls all set up? I think there will be a lot more victims - I mean - performers this week.” I winked at the older gentleman in front of me and slid him his beer. He was a regular and not a fan of Dive’s new themed night.

“Yup! And if there’s a lag in singers, I thought you and I could try out that new song we’ve been working on.”

I passed Angel her signature shot of tequila and light beer. “Uh, no way. You know that’s not happening.”

“Aw, come on, Kam!” she pouted. “I think it’s ready. Just try it!”

I was already shaking my head. “Nope. Ain’t gonna happen. I will not perform that song with you tonight. Ask one of the girls.”

“But it’s
our
song! Ugh!” She downed her shot and chased it with a swig of beer. “Fine. So you won’t perform that song with me tonight.”

“Nope.”

“Alright… whatever you say, Kam.”

I returned my attention to the growing line of thirsty customers and awaited the first singer to be announced. Luckily, she was decent, choosing to do a rendition of “Heartbreaker” by Pat Benatar. I could tell Angel was itching to grab the mic and kill it. She was a huge fan.

The acts gradually improved, and it seemed that Dive’s Open Mic Night was proving to be lucrative. I was happy for Blaine. He had explained to me that he had actually bought the bar from his Uncle Mick when he returned to Charlotte a bit over a year ago. The economy hadn’t been kind to the family-run business, and the place needed tons of cosmetic work. Blaine had been sitting on a large health insurance settlement from his mother’s death and decided to bail his uncle out of the quickly piling debt. He fixed it up, added some new staff members, and gave it a new, updated image. Though I had only known him for a matter of weeks, I was proud of his dedication. He was young, successful and driven. He was everything people expected him not to be.

“Alright Dive,” Angel’s seductive voice sounded through the speakers a couple hours into the evening. “This next act is one of our own. She’s a badass vocalist and crazy sexy on the strings. And, she is drop-dead lickable. Put your fucking hands together, Dive, for my girl, Kami!”

The bar erupted into cheers, every head turning to look at me with expectation. That’s when I realized what had just happened. Holy. Shit. I was going to kill Angel!

I tried to shake my head “no,” but the entire place was already chanting my name. Blaine had even abandoned his customers to come stand beside me, wearing a reassuring grin and nodding his support. The roar of the crowd, the lights, the dozens of eyes looking at me in expectation… I couldn’t deal. But I couldn’t lose it. I
wouldn’t
lose it.

I looked to the man next to me, who gazed at me like I was the only person that existed in the crowded bar, and took a cleansing breath. I could do this. I could block out every face and focus on him. I could pretend like I was giving him his very own private concert in his bedroom. And afterward, he would lead me to his bed and make me sing his name in every octave of my vocal range.

On trembling legs, I made my way to the stage, the spotlights causing tiny beads of sweat to form on my nose. Angel was beaming with pride, and even Dom was in the front row, still dressed in his work clothes.

“I am sooo gonna kill you, bitch,” I whispered between clenched teeth when I approached her on the stage.

“You’ll thank me for it later, slut,” she winked. Then she skipped to the back of the stage and retrieved my guitar. This had been premeditated! That whore was as good as dead!

I looked out at the sea of people growing restless as I tried to figure out my next move. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t do this. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t my life. This was Angel’s. People like me didn’t perform in front of crowds. We didn’t sing and play for perfect strangers. I couldn’t do this. Oh my God, I couldn’t.

My eyes swept over to the bar, finding Blaine’s smiling face. He looked so proud and excited for me. There wasn’t a trace of doubt on his face. He had faith in me. I didn’t want that faith to be wasted. I wanted to give him a reason to be proud of me.

I looked down at Dominic, my best friend in the whole world, who wore a similar expression. He had never made me feel like I was damaged goods. He understood me, and he loved me. If anyone knew courage, it was him. And right now, he was channeling it all to me in the depths of his comforting smile. If Dom believed in me, then maybe I could do this.

A small hand squeezed mine, and I realized that Angel had never left my side. She nodded, telling me that I was ok with the simple gesture. She really was a good friend to me. She had overcome so much pain and rejection in her life, yet found a way to get on stage and belt her heart out like she didn’t have a care in the world. She was fearless, and I longed for just an ounce of her confidence.

“I’ll be right here with you,” she whispered. “We’ll do this together, ok?”

I nodded and slowly positioned myself on the stool in front of the microphone. This was it. This was what I had always secretly dreamed of doing, but was too afraid to try. This was my moment to kick fear in the ass. And I wanted to share it with the three people in this bar that had come to mean more to me than anyone in this world.

I strummed the first chords of the only song that was on my heart at the moment. It wasn’t the song I had rehearsed with Angel. It wasn’t a legendary classic rock anthem. It wasn’t even a sappy love song. The song I chose to play was undoubtedly
me
. So much so, that I cried for days the first time I heard it. Because I wanted it. I wanted exactly what the lyrics of that song boasted.

Recognizing the intro of Paramore’s “The Only Exception,” Angel joined in with her own guitar as she sat in a stool to my right. We had played it before, and I knew she would pick it up. I looked over and smiled at her. Yeah, I hated Angel sometimes, but I loved her fiercely.

When I opened my mouth to belt out the first notes, I knew my voice was shaky. I was afraid, but it was ok. Fear would fuel my determination. I wouldn’t let it ruin this moment. Not this song. Not when it verbalized every single emotion I was feeling but couldn’t reveal.

As we entered the second verse, K.C. joined in on bass while MiMi picked up her own guitar. I smiled and let my eyes close, letting the melody completely take over me. This was the sweet spot. This was the place where everything clicked into place and created magic. I didn’t even think about the movement of my fingers on the strings. I didn’t even worry about remembering the next lines of the song. I didn’t have to. Somewhere in those lyrics, Angel’s voice harmonizing with mine perfectly, I became those notes. I was one with each chord. I let the music guide me as I recited the story of my life, stripping myself bare in front of a room full of strangers. And I didn’t care. I was fearless, even if only for a few minutes.

Nessa carried us into the second chorus, the heavy drumbeats pushing us into the bridge. With my eyes shut tight, I sang for hope. For understanding. For courage. For love.

For Blaine. I sang my heart out for Blaine.

We finished belting out the notes together, as if I was a part of the band. And, in that moment, with the girls backing me up in beautiful harmony, I was. But the last verse, the lyrics that I so desperately needed Blaine to hear, I sang alone. I revealed more than my feelings for him on that stage. I exposed my soul.

I opened my eyes to a crowd of stunned faces before the entire building broke into hellacious cheers. I smiled, turning to my temporary band mates, as they all swiped tears from their eyes. Even K.C. was blotting her black-lined eyes and nodding at me. Turning my attention towards the crowd before emotion took over my own tear ducts, I jumped down in front of Dominic, who quickly pulled me into his arms.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, you know that?” he murmured, squeezing me to his body. “So fucking proud, Kam. I knew you could do it. I never doubted you for one minute.”

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