Lead (10 page)

It was insane.

Ever notice how the world seems different in the wee small hours of the morning, when you’ve been awake too long? Surreal somehow and yet clearer, quieter so you can hear the whispered truth of things you couldn’t bring yourself to face in the light. My feelings for Jimmy weren’t fading. I was a fool to imagine they would, living in his house and breathing the same air as him. They weren’t leaving anytime soon.

And if they weren’t, then I had to.

I couldn’t take another broken heart. Especially not when I could see it coming a mile away as in the case of Jimmy Ferris. He needed me to be a helper and a friend, not a lovelorn little twerp making starry eyes at him. He already had those by the bucket load.

I drew a deep breath, let it go. If only it didn’t feel like I was being slowly cut open at the thought of leaving him. Overly gruesomely dramatic, but true. But it was just the like the old ripping off the Band-Aid analogy. Better a smallish pain now than heartbreak and ruin down the track.

Still, the next few weeks were going to be hard.

Afterward, once I had my replacement settled in, maybe I’d go sit on a beach somewhere and feel sorry for myself. Get out of the rain and into the sun for a while, order frothy drinks with little umbrellas and fruit in them. I could wait out my sister’s wedding and then sneak home while she was away on her honeymoon. Yes, I had a plan.

Jimmy’s feet were bundled together, arms pressed against his chest. Poor, baby. He must be cold. Not good after his time out in the rain this afternoon. I grabbed a couple of throws from the cabinet, chucked one at his feet and spread the other out wide. The fine woolen material drifted down to cover him from shoulder to toe.

“Better,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back, opening one eye to look me over. “Cute jammies.”

“I’ll have you know that flannel teddy bear print jammies are on the cutting edge of fashion.” I sat down, slumping tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

“Fell asleep. You woke me stomping down the stairs.” He sat up in slow motion, rubbing at his head. His dark hair stuck out every which way. The television cast shadows across his face. “What time is it?”

“Just past two-thirty.”

“What are you doing up?”

I shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Sometimes I just can’t get my stupid head to turn off.”

A nod and a yawn. “Pretty sure we can find something better than a nature documentary to watch.”

“You don’t have to keep me company. It’s late. Or early,” I amended. “Go on up to bed, I’ll be fine.”

He picked up the spare blanket and tossed it into my lap. “Once I’m awake I don’t tend to get back to sleep so easy.”

“Sorry I woke you. Pass me the remote?”

He chuckled darkly. “Lena, Lena. Shame on you. I’m half awake, not crazy.”

“Boys and their toys.” I wrapped the blanket around me, settling in.

He just gave me a half smile with the faintest trace of dimple. Actually, it was more of a quarter grin with a dash of the devil. But he was getting better at smiling and that’s what counted. It was going to be one of the regrets of my life that I’d never got to see the full thing. I bet it was lethal in all the ways.

We didn’t talk much. It was nice just having the company.

The last thing I remembered was being spread out on my half of the big couch, watching some cool old black-and-white movie about gangsters in the ’40s. I woke up in my own bed the next morning, carefully tucked in. So carefully, it was a struggle to get my arms out at first from beneath the blankets. Jimmy had obviously carried me up and put me to bed. When I tried to thank him, he just ignored me and changed the subject.

Same old, same old.

Three weeks later …

“Lena!”

My head shot up, the mug of coffee jumping in my hands. Hot liquid scalded my fingers, stinging. “Shit.”

Jimmy came pounding down the internal staircase. “Where are you?”

“In the kitchen.” I snatched up a tea towel, dabbing at my pink skin.

“What the fuck?” he roared, striding into the kitchen, dripping with sweat.

I sighed as only the long-suffering can do and rubbed at the coffee stains on my green Henley. “What the fuck, what, Jimmy?”

Another set of heavy-assed footfalls followed behind the man in question. Ben the bass player came into view. Picture a sexy lumberjack with musical abilities and you’ll pretty much have him down right. He was equally sweaty—fitting, considering they’d both just been for a run.

“Hey, Ben.” I waved a hand and the big guy gave me his usual chin tip. But wait, was that a smirk lingering on his lips? He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, obviously settling in for something.

Whatever was going on here, I already didn’t like it.

Jimmy tossed his phone onto the kitchen counter in front of me. “Why the fuck do I have some …” He picked the cell back up again, squinting at the screen. “… Tom Moorecomb really looking forward to meeting with me about the new assistant position?”

My stomach fell. “Oh. That.”

“Yeah. That.”

“I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you.”

Brows drawn tight, Jimmy braced his hands on the counter. “Let’s try now.”

“Well, I’ve decided to leave your lovely employ,” I said, holding my head high and speaking nice and clear in a friendly professional tone. Just liked I’d practiced over and over again in the shower, in bed, on the john. Pretty much anywhere and everywhere when I got a moment. No more excuses. “Not that I haven’t valued the time we’ve spent together, but I feel I’m ready to move on to new challenges. Tom is who I would suggest you hire as my replacement. He has a background in counseling, but is—”

“You’re quitting?”

It’d never been so hard to meet his eyes. “Yes, Jimmy. I am. It’s time.”

“You organized all this behind my back.” Not a question, a statement, and a very angry one at that. His usual cool gaze fell to well below sub-zero. It was pure luck I didn’t snap freeze on the spot.

Instead, I nodded, goose bumps breaking out all over my skin.

“When?”

“When did I organize it or when do I finish?”

He jerked his chin. I took it to mean ‘yes’ on both counts.

“The last couple of weeks, and in a couple of weeks,” I said. “Thought I’d spend a few days settling Tom in before I left, making sure everything was okay. Of course there were other candidates, it’s your choice whether or not you hire him.”

“Big of you.”

“But you will need to find someone to replace me.”

“When were you going to tell me, Lena?”

“Soon.”

He raised a brow.

“This weekend … sometime, I was going to give notice. I mean, definitely well before Tom arrived for his interview with you on Monday. You would probably want a chance to prepare, so …” I gave him my most charming smile. No matter what, never actually admit to flailing. “Monday morning at the very latest.”

Color suffused Jimmy’s face.

I cleared my throat. “Back to Tom’s previous experience, which I think it’s important to note, unlike me, he actually has some in a relevant field—”

“No.”

I blinked. “What?”

“No. You’re not quitting.”

“Ah, yes. I am.”

He shook his head just the once, but it was a fierce shake, brutal even. I’m surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. And while I’d known he probably wouldn’t embrace my decision, I hadn’t expected this level of obstinacy. “I’m a secretary, Jimmy. Not an addiction counselor. Fact is, I never should have taken the job in the first place. I’m not qualified, nor am I particularly good at it.”

“I think I’m in a better position to make that call. Hell, Lena. This is ridiculous, what is it you want me to say?”

I shrugged, surprised by his response. “Goodbye, I guess. And if you wouldn’t mind, a letter of recommendation would be nice.”

For a moment he said nothing, just let his head fall back so he could stare at the ceiling. The muscles in his neck were thick, veins stark beneath the skin. “What’s the real issue here? You want more money?”

“No. To be honest, you’re probably paying me too much as it is. Not that I’m volunteering for a decrease.”

“Then what?” His gaze bored into me, eyes a lighter shade than his brothers. Jimmy’s eyes were like a cloudless sky, the perfect blue. They were beautiful, but rarely serene. And God help me for even noticing, let alone getting poetic.

“Why do you want me to stay so badly?” I threw up my hands. “Most days you barely tolerate me. Last week you stopped speaking entirely and just grunted at me for three days.” Suddenly you can’t bear for us to be apart? Come on.”

Ben chuckled. “She’s got a point.”

“Later, Benny,” Jimmy said without taking his eyes off me.

“Right. Have fun, guys.” The big man ambled on out, not particularly bothering to hide his smile.

“I just … I got a bit moody last week.” He crossed his arms and said in a rush, “But it wasn’t nothing to do with you.”

“No, of course not. But I have to live with you. So when you get into these moods, it affects me. ”

Further scowling.

“Not that this is about us.” I shook my head. “I mean, there is no
us
. I don’t know why I even used the word. This decision is just about me. It’s time for me to move on.”

Jimmy’s jaw clenched. “I don’t like change.”

“We’ll make the handover as smooth as possible.”

“I’m used to you being around. We get on okay. Why the fuck should I have to go through all the trouble of breaking-in someone new just because you’ve got your panties in a twist over something that probably doesn’t even matter?”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I was officially stupefied. Over the breaking-in or panties comments I couldn’t quite say, though really, neither should have surprised me. This was Jimmy in all his glory, rude as fuck and not a single social nicety to him. At least I was willing to pretend to get along with people the bulk of the time.

“Well?” he barked. When I took too long to answer he tugged his red sweatshirt off over his head, using it to wipe down his face.

“My reasons, which are personal, do matter. Maybe not to you, but they matter to me.”

He looked off to the side, his lips drawn wide in a truly aggrieved expression. Had any man ever been quite so badly treated? No, I think not, according to that face.

“I’ve made up my mind,” I said.

“I’ll pay you twenty percent more.”

“Were you even listening? This is not about money.”

“Fuck’s sake. Fifty.”

I screwed up my nose. “Jimmy—”

His hand sliced through the air. “Enough. I’ll double it. You cut the shit and we don’t talk about it again, understood? Now I got stuff to do.”

“Stop!” I yelled.

He stared at me, unblinking. Hostility seemed to ooze from his very pores.

“I’m leaving.”

“Why?” he asked, through gritted teeth. “C’mon, you at least owe me an explanation, Lena.”

Outside, it started to rain, the heavy grey clouds finally giving it up. And still Jimmy waited. I squeezed my eyes shut against the sight of him. Oh god, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. This wasn’t going at all like I had planned.

“I know we’re not best friends, but I thought we got along okay,” he said.

“We do, basically.”

“Well, then?”

“I’m not right for this job.”

“Look at me.”

I opened one eye, he actually looked reasonably calm. His big arms were crossed, sweaty shirt plastered to his buff chest, but otherwise, he didn’t seem too angry. So I opened the other eye, too. Brave of me, I know.

“Unlike the other sobriety companions, you don’t completely piss me off,” he said.

“I know. I’m mostly useful.” I laughed. Not that it was particularly funny. “Gah! Why are you fighting me so hard on this?”

“Because the record company and Adrian would still like someone around to keep an eye on things. I happen to agree it’s not a completely bad idea,” he said. “I don’t need you counseling me and messing with my head, giving me your version of whatever philosophical bullshit turns you on. I just need you to be here. How is that so hard?”

“It’s not. But it doesn’t explain why you’re so hell-bent on that person being me.”

“Look, you’re basically the best out of the bunch, okay? Someone else might be far worse. I’m not going to risk it. You have to stay.”

My nose wrinkled up, I could feel it.

“Hang on, is this about what happened before the funeral?” he asked.

My mouth opened but I had nothing. He didn’t mean when he clung to me, but thanks to my guilty conscience, it was all I could think of.

“It is.” His forehead furrowed. He shoved a hand into his hair and grabbed a fistful, tugging on it. “That was … there were extenuating circumstances. You were never in any physical danger from me, Lena. Not ever.”

“I know.”

“Do you? I get that I freaked you out,” he said. “I know I trashed that room, but I would never—”

“It’s not about that.”

“So what’s the problem?”

I turned away, mind scrambling for a plausible lie of an excuse. There must be something I could use, letting him think I was physically afraid of him wasn’t tenable. He had more than enough issues to contend with.

“It is the problem.” He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “Fuck.”

“No. It’s really not. I get that you were in a bad place that day.”

“Then what? What do you need here, an apology?” Irritation filled his eyes. “Fuck’s sake. I’m sorry, okay?”

My jaw fell slack. “Wow. You are breathtakingly bad at apologizing, aren’t you?”

His cell buzzed on the counter. We both ignored it.

“Jimmy, for future reference, when you apologize to someone you might want to sound like you actually mean it. Consider not sneering or swearing at them, perhaps. Hmm?”

He kicked his scuffed his foot against the floor looking for all the world like a schoolboy being scolded. “Okay. Sorry … and stuff.”

“Slightly better.”

“So we done here? We good?” he asked, already moving toward the door.

“Can I tell Tom Monday suits you?”

“Lena! Shit.” He made a noise of sheer exasperation. “Why?”