Higher Octave (Heavy Influence #2.5) (4 page)

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Authors: Ann Marie Frohoff

Tags: #romance, #young adult, #music, #a, #family relationships, #love affairs love and loss, #new adult, #romance and contemporary, #teen 15 and up, #music and musicians

BOOK: Higher Octave (Heavy Influence #2.5)
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“We never discussed it,” she shrugged, and
her chest heaved with a sigh. “Jake, I have so much culpability in
how our relationship came to pass.” She reached over, taking my
hand, and rested it on her stomach. “You’re my greatest
accomplishment, and Michael loved you very much. He said the same
thing about you.” She released my hand and cupped the sides of her
cheeks as she attempted to hold back tears. “I didn’t know. I
really didn’t know that you could have been Notting’s son. I look
into your eyes and see mine. I…but now that you’re a grown man…”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “The older you got, I’d see
you standing next to Notting…it was so obvious. You’re built just
like him. You have his hands. I didn’t want to think about it, I…I
pushed it so far down until I couldn’t take it anymore. I just had
to know, so I took a paternity test.”

Tears dripped from her eyes. “Michael always
felt like he’d won. He was proud and arrogant. Notting saw me
first. He was so sweet, nothing like Michael, in the Cavern in
Liverpool. I was so young. Michael and him were best friends,
and…well, everything happened the way it happened.” She sank,
exhausted from the memories. “Michael took care of me. He dominated
me.”

“Mom…” I squeezed her hand. “As much as I
wanna know. If it’s too difficult to talk about…”

“No. You have to know. It wasn’t until I had
you that I found my voice, and Notting was always there to listen.
He was my biggest advocate, and after a while, Michael just faded
into his own world. Notting gave me the courage to stand up to
Michael.” She hugged my hand to her chest and kissed my knuckles.
“You don’t need to know all the pessimistic details. Here we are.
As it should have been.”

3

It’d been several months since I last saw
Aly. The last time I’d seen her was at Bobby and Marshall’s wedding
in June, and she’d attended with Nathan. There wasn’t much to say
about it, other than she looked gorgeous in a cerulean strapless
dress. It killed me to spy Nathan fawning over her. I left as soon
as I made the rounds at the reception. I didn’t even bother saying
hello to her, just tried to pretend they didn’t exist.

I’d been keeping track of Aly through her
brother Kyle once again, just like I did during our three-year
separation while Aly was still in high school. My big plans to
inject myself back into her life backfired when I found out she
would be away playing beach volleyball in some foreign country all
summer. Then my new aspirations at a solo career took me back to
Britain until right before Christmas.

Six months flew by in a blink of an eye.

During that time, Kyle went and got married
in Vegas. Nothing eventful. No one was there, and he’d settled in
Hermosa Beach, the next town over. He had a baby on the way. I
couldn’t image myself with a kid. I was only twenty-five, after
all. Who does that anymore? I guessed Kyle did. His wife was the
epitome of the sexy librarian. Lacey was her name, and he’d met her
at his tech job. She was of average size and had a decent figure,
though she hid beneath knee-length skirts and oversized blouses.
When I first met her, I’d recognized something bubbling beneath the
surface. Her pouty pink lips and almond-shaped green eyes caught my
attention. I was stoked for Kyle.

I wondered if my generation was getting
married younger than my parents’ generation; first Marshall and
Bobby, and now Kyle and Lacey, not to mention Dump and Sienna right
out of high school. It just seemed so early to choose whom you’d
spend the rest of your life with. Yet there I was, ready to marry
Aly if she walked through the door and said yes. I had zero
interest in a relationship with anyone else. Sure, I wanted to get
laid and have a good time, but nothing else. I pondered the
difference between all of us being ready to settle down, versus Aly
being against it. My stomach curled with resentment that she was
now engaged, ready to marry Nathan. But what did I expect? I put so
much bad energy out there, I wouldn’t have wanted to marry me
either.

There I was back at home, like a teenager,
depending on other people to give me rides. Notting was even back
into pseudo-managing me.

Full circle.

I kicked my feet up onto the padded leather
ottoman in front of me and watched Notting’s tattoos dance on his
arms as he wrestled with some of my mother’s painting canvases.
Seeing his tattoos made me touch my own unfinished tribute to Aly.
Looking at it, I wanted it finished. The strands of hair needed a
blue outline, the same blue that filled the music notes.

“Not, you know this is the first time in my
life that I don’t feel any pressure. Like zero.” I strummed the
chords, plucking a tune I’d been mixing with some lyrics. “I think
I’m gonna finally finish this tattoo, too,” I announced, with one
last strum, and then slapped my left bicep.

He swiveled his seat to face me and moved
the blank canvas he had between his legs, leaning it against the
sofa arm. He’d been screwing in metal wall mounts into the wood of
the canvas’ frame. My mother was on a new kick. She’d begun
painting.

“Life is good, eh?” He smiled, and his
handsome face folded together like an accordion. His new reading
glasses balanced on the tip of his nose. I saw myself in him. I had
his teeth.

I bobbed my head. “So-so,
but better than before. There’s no struggle.”
Except for Aly.

He stood and adjusted his black wide-legged
sweat pants. “I’ve been talking to your old booking agent.”

I perked up. “And?”

“They’re ready when you are.”

I held my breath. “Okay.” I was nervous, and
I found it odd, almost like it would be my first time on stage. I’d
played to sold-out stadiums and for millions of people watching
award shows, but this was something new. I wasn’t sure when I’d be
ready. I’d never been on stage without my friends.

Notting looked at me fondly over his rimless
glasses with a smile, as if he’d read my mind. “We’ll hire a
drummer and a bass player and go from there. Simple.”

 

***

 

Gabe Sherman was serious about his job. He
was precise. He was stoic. He was articulate, and most of all,
accommodating. He had to be, I supposed; he was my driver. A
handsome Clint Eastwood-lookalike, he’d worked for the same limo
service for over twenty years, which catered to studio executives
and A-list celebrity clientele. Gabe was directly recommended to me
by one of the new producers I was working with on my solo project.
He was also the driver for several rock and music legends when they
came into town. Gabe and I developed a similar relationship as I
had with Marty, part friendship and part business.

It was nearly show time.

The famed Hotel Café in Hollywood with its
dramatic red curtains was the stage backdrop. That’s where Notting
had arranged for me to play my debut solo gig. I had to admit I was
excited, and a bittersweet sensation crawled over me as I thought
about Dump. I was thankful Bobby was back home from his last tour,
and he was more than stoked when I asked if he’d play with me. We’d
practiced, and then hired a guy Bobby recommended, Trev Stoneham,
aka Stoney, as a drummer. It was nearly like old times – in my
garage at first; then we moved to a rehearsal space.

Six weeks later, the day came. Load in at
Hotel Café was at 5:30 PM, and it was about 4 PM on a Thursday in
mid-March. Cool and breezy, the trees rustled with each bluster of
wind, and dark clouds began to roll in. I hoped it wouldn’t rain
too hard or too long. I didn’t want the fans to get soaked. I’d
heard there was a line at the venue trailing down the street. It’d
begun forming at around noon. I was elated and relieved. There was
a bit of fear in me that no one would come, since I’d fallen off
the face of the planet in complete scandal.

I’d arranged for Gabe to
drive me for the evening, and he’d pulled up right in front of my
driveway. I stood in my garage, packing my very first acoustic
guitar in its case, and rubbed its glossy surface. Every time I
picked her up, she sang to me in an authentic, fine voice, so
different than any of my other guitars. It would be the first time
I’d be performing on stage with her, she was my most prized
possession, and I thanked God I’d left her in her case that one
time, thinking back to when I’d busted my other acoustic guitar in
a doped-up mad rage over something stupid –
well, I didn’t think it was stupid at all, but still.
She was the one that wrote all those hit songs
with me, and now the world was going to finally meet
her.

As I was loading my guitar and backpack into
the backseat of Gabe’s black Escalade, time stopped. A car I didn’t
recognize pulled into Aly’s driveway. My mouth went instantly dry.
I didn’t notice the driver, only her in the passenger seat.

Was she with Nathan?

I leaned into the back seat and unzipped my
backpack, pretending to look for something, peering out the back
window. Then relief flooded through me when I saw Allison, Aly’s
older sister, step from the driver’s side.

I backed out of the truck and looked over at
them. Allison was waving wildly at me, smiling cheerfully. I
couldn’t really place Aly’s expression, but it sat between shock
and joy. I waved back, shutting the door and slowly trudged back
toward my garage. I wanted so badly to go say hello to them, but I
didn’t want to be intrusive.

“What?” Allison’s voice sparked, and I
turned, smiling. She threw her arms out. “You’re not gonna come and
say hello? I haven’t seen you in like…years!”

My heart raced so fast that I couldn’t feel
my feet as I walked toward her. She was bursting with elation in
her prim office attire. It warmed my heart that she was so happy to
see me. Allison met me halfway on the sidewalk and hugged me
tightly when she got ahold of me. I closed my eyes. When I opened
them, I couldn’t help by look in Aly’s direction. She’d moved to
the trunk of the car, throwing me a gingerly smile. I wanted to
kill myself. She’d gotten more gorgeous, if that was even possible.
She was in workout gear, as usual, showing every bit of her natural
beauty.

“How the hell are you?” Allison slapped my
shoulder, grabbing my attention.

I chucked, focusing back on her. “I’m
great.”

“You look great.” She motioned at me with
her hands. “So what’s up? Are you living back here?”

I looked back at my house. “Just temporary.”
My eyes drifted to Aly to see if she was watching us, she was. I
drew in a deep breath. “How are you, what’ve you been up to?”

“Just surviving at my sucky job.” She
laughed, rolling her eyes. “Not really. It’s okay. I just wish I’d
hit the lotto.”

“Right?”

“Just picked this kiddo up from the
dealership. Her car needed some TLC.”

My insides fluttered, staring over at
Aly.

Allison’s eyes roamed over me with a smirk
on her face, and she looked back at Aly. “Alyssa, get over here.”
She waved her arm and looked back at me. “Just because you two
aren’t together anymore doesn’t mean you can’t be civil and
grown-up about it.”

Fuck
.

Aly reluctantly strolled over to us.
“Hey.”

I tipped my head with a playful grin. I
couldn’t help myself. “Get over here.”

I reached for her hand, and her cool fingers
wrapped around mine, sending a deep charge through me. I’d noticed
immediately she wasn’t wearing the ring Nathan gave her. I told
myself that didn’t mean anything as I pulled her to my chest,
hugging her. She’d probably taken the ring off to work out. That’s
what most people did.

“What are you doing?” She pointed to Gabe’s
truck. “Is that yours?”

I shook my head no. “It’s my driver.”

Aly and Allison both nodded, more than
likely remembering how I’d almost killed someone the last time I
was behind the wheel.

“Where you off to?” Allison gave me a
strange look, almost like she knew. Maybe she did, but I wasn’t
going to say anything.

“I’m just taking care of some music stuff,
you know.”

Allison gave me a tight grin. She knew, she
nodded, and Aly looked between us, confused. “What’s up?”

“I’ve got to get going.” Allison said,
changing the subject. “Gotta say hi to Mom before I leave, too, or
I won’t hear the end of it.”

Allison disappeared behind their tall
courtyard gates. “Uh, okay, well.” Aly sighed, closing her mouth,
and a bit of dejection overcame her. She crossed her arms, rubbing
her bare shoulder. “It’s freezing. It was great seeing you.”

“Yeah, you too.” I lingered on that last
word, wanting to say more, but she turned and trotted back to the
trunk of Allison’s car, taking out her own black backpack and a
brown Trader Joe’s shopping bag. We’d waved our goodbyes and I
shuffled back to Gabe, who was leaning against the side of his
truck, watching the whole thing. I’d yet to share with him any real
information about my life. He didn’t seem like the type to buy
tabloid mags, seeing as he had the type of clientele who usually
appeared on the covers.

“Awkward, yeah?” He scratched his head,
feeling it.

Maybe he did know what was going on.

“Yep.”

4

 

The line outside The Hotel Café was thick,
and the excitement charged through me, erasing any anxious feelings
I had about the show, or Aly, for that matter. As soon as I opened
the car door, fans began to scream, waiving excitedly. I waved in
return, bowing my head with hands in prayer, thanking them as I was
whisked into the side door. Bobby arrived alone, still looking the
same has he always had, tucking his pack of cigs in his back
pocket. He wore a worn-out t-shirt and black Levi’s, and dirty-worn
out Van’s tennis shoes. Marshall’s fashion sense had certainly not
affected his husband in the least.

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