Lost Weekend (A Rocked Story)

By Clara Bayard

Copyright © 2013 by Clara Bayard

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This short story takes place between the events of Rocked to the Core and Hard Rocked.

When Joe surprises Liss with a trip to New York for just the two of them, she's over the moon. He's thought of everything, and a little time alone is exactly what the couple needs. But when the trapping of his fame intrude and the reality of dating a rock star hits her again, Liss risks falling into bad old habits - running away when things get hard.

But a chance meeting with an old friend changes everything and provides new perspective, reminding her of what really matters - the love that she and Joe built together. It's stronger than any petty argument, and worth fighting for, even if the whole world conspires against them.

I yawned loudly before climbing into the back of the taxi.

“That wasn’t very promising for our romantic weekend, babe,” Joe said with a smile as he slid in on the other side.

“Sorry. Early flight, very little sleep.”

He pulled me across the seat so our bodies were touching from shoulder to leg. “I don’t mind. I’m just glad we’re here.”

“Me too.” And I was. After Joe’s band had finished recording their album, they’d headed out to the west coast for two months – doing promotion and re-recording and who knows what else. I’d planned to visit, but the timing never worked out. I’d missed him desperately, and even though I could barely keep my eyes open, my heart was leaping from just being close to him again.

He turned his head and planted a soft kiss on my lips before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of fabric.

“What’s that?”

Joe flashed his crooked grin, the one that turned me to jelly every time. “A blindfold. For your surprise.”

“What? We’re in New York. It was on my plane ticket. And a lot of signs. The surprise is ruined.”

He chuckled. “Just go with me on this, okay?”

I arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t you trust me, Liss?”

“Generally.”

“Babe, you left your whole life behind to go on tour with me. You should be willing to trust me for half an hour in a car.”

“Fine,” I said with a shrug. He had a point. Granted, the road hadn’t been entirely smooth, but after almost a year of drama, we were together and in love. And I did trust him. With my heart and my future. So I shut my eyes and bent my head to let him blindfold me.

“Good girl. Now, sit back and relax. I have to make a quick call but before you know it we’ll be there and I’m all yours for four days.”

I smiled. “Okay.” I pushed my curly hair out of the way and rested my head on his shoulder.

Joe wrapped an arm around my waist and pushed his hand under the hem of my shirt, splaying his fingers over my skin. His hands were cool, but as always, his touch made me flush as sensual heat spread out from the point of contact.

I briefly considered doing something about that, but I felt him shift and then the soft beeps as he dialed a number. With a tiny sigh that was part disappointment but mostly exhaustion, I snuggled in closer and began to drift off to the sound of his voice.

Barely conscious, I considered how bizarre and wonderful my life had become. I was in the back of a cab with the lead singer of a hugely popular rock band, after getting flown first class to New York City for what Joe called a “Lost Weekend,” a few days for us to hide from the world. It wasn’t the original meaning of the phrase, but I’d take it. So much of his time was spent surrounded by other band members and their management and fans; it was amazing to get away from everyone. Hell, it was great to be in a normal sized car without the gang. Great and quiet.

I woke to the sensation of Joe’s lips on my neck. I sat up straight and turned my head a few times quickly, momentarily confused about why I couldn’t see anything.

His throaty chuckled reminded me. “Relax. We’re here.”

“Can I take the blindfold off?”

“Not just yet.”

I frowned. “How long was I out?”

“Forty minutes or so. I would have let you sleep, but the meter is running.”

I giggled. “You’re a rock star, what are we doing in a normal cab anyway?”

“Not this weekend. Here and now I’m just Joe. Spending a couple days in a great city with the hottest girl in the world.”

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. It had taken me a while to learn to trust that he truly appreciated my curvy, wobbly body, but I’d never really understand it. “Okay, Romeo. No need to lay it on that thick.” I twisted and winced, sore from sleeping sitting up like that. “Get me out of this car and into a bathtub. There will be a tub wherever we are, right?”

“Of course.” With that Joe patted my hand and told me to wait. The car door opened and he climbed out. A few seconds later he was next to me on the other side, helping me from the car.

Holding his hand to keep from stumbling, I could feel sun on my face. From the smells and sounds, we were in the city for sure.

“I see you trying to figure out where we are. Settle down.” He held my arms and turned me slightly, big calloused fingers scraping softly on my bare skin. There was a tug behind my head and he said, “Okay, open your eyes.”

I blinked in the sudden light, and then gasped. We were standing in front of the Franklin-Rose Hotel. One of the oldest and grandest hotels in New York, it had been closed for over a decade due to a long legal battle that had spilled over into violence over ownership between the intermarried members of the Franklin and Rose families. I knew about the place because, like everyone else, I’d followed the trial of Marcus Rose on television and online all year, and even wrote an article about it for the free paper I freelanced with on occasion.

“Oh my god!”

Joe grinned. “Good surprise, right?”

“Great surprise.” I laughed and threw my arms around him, not caring that a sidewalk full of people could see. I even tuned out the photographer snapping our picture.
How did they always manage to find him?

“I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Babe, no matter how busy I am, I’ll never forget anything you say to me.”

I kissed him hard on the lips and grinned. “Are we visiting or staying here?”

“Please. I wouldn’t bring you here just for a glance around the place. We’re booked in a suite for the weekend.”

I screeched with excitement, grabbed his hand, and dragged him inside. We sped past a doorman, through the ornately filigreed doors I knew had been perfectly restored from their original state. Into the lobby, where the bright marbled walls and floors nearly glowed. Up to the front desk, also restored from the early days of the hotel, it was tall and inviting, the warm mahogany somehow overcoming the immensity of its size.

But before I could say anything, a young woman rounded the counter quickly, smoothing her dark hair back into a bun. Stiletto heels clicking, slim legs shifting gracefully under the pencil skirt of her suit, she was my physical opposite. Someone I would have once been nervous around, especially with Joe.

“Mr. Hawk,” she said, smiling at him. “Welcome to the Franklin-Rose. I’m very sorry I was unable to meet you outside. My name is Stephanie, one of the hotel’s-.”

“No problem. Look, Stephanie, no need to stand on ceremony. I’m here for a quiet trip.”

She nodded sharply. “Of course.”

“If you can get us checked in I’d really appreciate it.”

“Already done, sir. I’ve got your keys right here and a bellman will deliver your luggage shortly. If you’ll follow me I’ll show you up to your suite.”

Joe and I exchanged a look.

“There’s no need. Tell us the number and point us at the elevators.”

“I…well. Certainly. Suite 913.” She seemed baffled at the idea that Joe didn’t require more special treatment and toadying.

I stifled a giggle.

“Here you are, sir.” She handed over a folder, presumably containing our keys. “My cell phone number is included, should you,” she glanced at me, “either of you require anything.”

“Great,” I said. “Off we go.”

“Yes, of course. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you right now? There’s champagne and other refreshments in your room, but feel free to call room service for additional items.”

I rolled my eyes and was turning away when Joe spoke.

“Actually there is one thing you could help us with.”

“Yes?”

“Please try to keep the paparazzi away. And if you can’t, I’d appreciate another route out of here. I’m not here for publicity.”

Stephanie nodded. “We’ll do our best, sir.”

“Great. Thanks.” He smiled at her and I could see the effect it had. But I knew the truth. This was his public smile, the one that charmed the masses. But it was nothing on the real smile he rarely showed to anyone but those closest to him. It seemed some things would never change, and that made me very happy.

Upstairs in our suite, my giddy excitement had completely overwhelmed how tired I was. Looking out over the view of the Park, I could barely believe it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy, Liss.”

I turned and stepped into Joe’s embrace. “I’m so happy.”

“All it took was a swanky hotel. So much for the regular girl waitress, eh?”

I smacked him softly on the chest. “Shut up. I’m happy because I’m with you. And sure, this beautiful place doesn’t hurt. But we could be in the diner or a bus station or the mouth of a volcano and I’d be just as pleased.”

“Good. Want a drink?”

“Nope. I just want to stay right here with you holding me.”

“All weekend?”

“All my life.”

Joe smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “Is that a proposal?”

I blushed. “No! I didn’t mean…”

He guffawed and pulled away enough to look into my eyes. “I’m just fucking with you, Liss.”

“As usual.”

“You love it,” he said playfully.

“I love
you
.”

“Good.”

I laughed. “Good? You’re supposed to say it back, dummy.”

“Bossy. I love you being bossy. And silly. And happy. And everything you ever are. I love you, babe.”

Even after all this time, just hearing that made my stomach flip. The lead singer of Dream Defiled loved me. Diner waitress and soon-to-be college student, me. And even better than that, Joe loved me. The real Joe. The sweet, sexy, sensitive, funny, supportive Joe. And he was all mine. The rest of the planet could enjoy his handsome face and fantastic voice. His stage presence and talent. But his heart was just for me. And mine for him.

I shook my head, overwhelmed, and pinched myself on the arm.

“What the hell did you do that for?”

I looked away, embarrassed he’d noticed. “I just wanted to make sure all of this is real.”

“It is. But if you want to get pinched, please allow me.”

“What? No.”

He leered comically, waggling his fingers in my face. “Come on. You know you want it.”

“Do not pinch me.”

“I’m gonna. You can’t stop me.”

I giggled and ran away. Joe followed, and chased me around the living room and dining area, through to the bedroom. I was steps from the massive bathroom when he caught me. But instead of pinching, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled me tight against his body, and kissed me deeply.