Rock Star (12 page)

Bryan tugged at his ponytail, a gesture that Callie had come to realize indicated nervousness or discomfort. She suspected that he didn’t even realize he did it or how much of his inner turmoil the gesture revealed. He leaned his head down until it touched the neck of his guitar and mumbled something indecipherable.

Callie frowned, “What?”

“ ‘Johnny’ is Johnny Cash.”

“Well, what’s the big deal about that? I’ve heard that a lot of rockers like him.”

Bryan sighed heavily. “When I was a kid, I used to dream that Johnny Cash was my dad. You know, he was so cool and all. I freaking worshipped him. One day I asked my mom about it, and she laughed. Told me that only an idiot would think that Johnny Cash could create such a worthless child. She told me my daddy was an even bigger piece of trash than me, but she would never identify him.” He looked out the window to the bleak sky. “It took me a long time to figure out that she probably doesn’t know.” He exhaled forcibly, the air whistling between his teeth. “But I still wanted it to be Johnny Cash. I started trying to play guitar like him, dressed like him…”

“Of course! Black all the time. I wondered about that.” Callie nodded while considering what type of woman would tell her child such a horrible thing. Bryan didn’t talk about his mother that much, but with the information she had so far, Callie was astonished that he had made it to adulthood without going to jail or being killed. Of course, he readily admitted to more than a few hard knocks along the way.

Bryan gave a short laugh, “Now I wear it because it’s just easy, I don’t have to think about clothes. Besides, I’ve been doing it so long, people pretty much expect it. It drives Naysa, our stylist, crazy. She wants to try out all this cool stuff, and I keep reminding her to just stick to black. It makes packing easier too. She claims that I must be color blind or something. I’m not, but I just don’t understand getting all uptight about clothes.”

Callie shook her head. “If you weren’t going to use her, why did you hire her?”

Bryan pondered that for a moment. “We hired her a few years back, primarily for videos and appearances. I loved the clothes, she has excellent taste, but I just couldn’t be bothered to pay that much attention to what I looked like. But after a while, I kind of liked the convenience of having someone else do my shopping. She buys everything, including my underwear. Hell, I’d pay almost anything to have somebody take care of that! Besides, she’s Twist’s lady now.” He snorted sardonically, “Well, at least some of the time, so we pretty much have to keep her around.”

Callie pursed her lips. “Typical.” Did these people have any idea just how spoiled they were? Their level of self-indulgence was just incredible.

Then after a brief pause she asked, “Did you ever meet him?”

Amazingly Bryan kept up with the transition back to the original topic. He raised his brows inquiringly, “Johnny Cash?”

Callie nodded.

“No.”

“Why not? Didn’t U2 do a record with him?”

Bryan again tugged on his ponytail. “I thought about it, but you know, so many of the guys I wanted to meet as a kid have turned out to be real assholes.”

“Mmmm, I hadn’t heard he was a jerk…”

“Oh, I haven’t either. Bono said he was cool, a real righteous dude, but I just couldn’t take that chance. I could have stood it from anybody else, but not Johnny. He was special. If he had turned out to be a regular sonofabitch, it would probably have pushed me right over the edge. Can you imagine what it would be like if I went even crazier?” He paused for a moment, flexing his fingers as he thought. “Johnny was the best guitarist I’ve ever heard. I’ve been listening to his music since I was a kid, and I still don’t get it. He made it seem so easy. He was a natural, and unbelievably smooth.” He gave a self-effacing laugh. “I’m not a natural at all. I have to work so damned hard, and still I’m not nearly as good. I couldn’t have stood it if he’d laughed at me.”

Callie shook her head. She was just now coming to understand why Bryan had such a low opinion of himself. Step aside, Medea. His mother would probably make even Euripides pause. It was horribly unfortunate that he hadn’t gotten away from her until he was almost an adult. That woman had a lot to answer for. Even after all the acclaim and the attainment of “guitar god” status, he still worried that one of his heroes would laugh at him. Then again, perhaps the rejection he’d experienced at home had been the fuel to drive him to achieve that fame and fortune. She wondered how many Grammys it would take before he believed in his own success.

Bryan played another song, and as he finished, he turned to look at Callie again. “I’ve got to go back to L.A. next week.”

Callie nodded. She had expected this for a while. He’d explained about the need to hire a new guitarist and resume their tour.

Bryan continued to pick restlessly at the guitar strings as he told her about the tribute concert for Brodie. He was trying to formulate a way to invite her to go with him, but finally decided that the direct approach was probably best. “Callie, I’m going to be out there for about a week rehearsing before the concert. I thought maybe you’d like to go with me.”

Stunned, Callie could only stare at him, speechless. L.A.? Had he lost his mind?

Bryan pressed his argument. “I know it sounds crazy, Callie, but I really need you to do this. Going back is going to be really hard for me. I haven’t played without Brodie before and…” He faltered, unwilling to expose his vulnerability any further.

Callie understood his misgivings about performing without Brodie, and that his ego wouldn’t let him ask for her support. “Bryan, you know I’ve got the store here. It’s coming up on the holiday season, and I can’t just leave Tonya in a lurch…”

Bryan interrupted, “I know that, Callie. But you hired that new clerk a month ago. She seems to be doing pretty well. I’ve watched her, and she’s a quick learner. Come on, Callie, it’ll only be for a week. I need you to be a part of this. We’ll have a great time. I’ll finally get a chance to show you my house. It’s right on the beach and has a view of the Santa Monica mountains. It’s incredible; you’ll love it.” He gave her a mischievous grin. “And if you’re good, I’ll even show you my weapons collection.”

Callie tilted her head back to rest against the high back of the sofa. This whole idea was preposterous. She couldn’t just pick up and follow him to Los Angeles. Telling her folks about a trip to California would be bad enough, but going with a rock star? Having avidly watched the O.J. Simpson trial, her parents were firmly convinced that life in L.A. consisted of some type of never-ending Bacchanalian festival, and that everybody in the rest of the state was simply crazy. Her father’s staunch opposition to her relationship with a white rock star would not be overcome anytime soon. And he would never agree to such a journey. Her family had agreed to be courteous to him, but that only extended so far, and certainly did not include cross-country trips. On the other hand, she felt a small thrill of excitement at the idea of actually going to L.A. with a real rock star. She’d seen the celebrity lifestyle on television, and she was more than a little bit curious as to how much of the image was true. Callie sighed. There was that brazen groupie again, longing for the excitement of bright lights, big city. This was really a bad idea, especially when nearly everything the man did made her think of taking him to bed. But even with the likelihood of impending disaster, she was teetering on the edge of agreeing to go. Then she thought about that mind-numbing kiss in the kitchen.

“Bryan, if I go with you, are you going to expect…” She took a deep breath, then braced her shoulders. “Are you going to expect sex from me? Because, well…” She shrugged uncomfortably.

Bryan put his guitar down and turned to face her. The remotest possibility of Callie accompanying him on this trip hinged on his response to her question. “Callie, you know how I feel about you, and if left up to me, we would’ve made love a long time ago.” Callie’s eyes widened. “But I know you’re not ready for that, and I promise you, nothing will happen until you’re ready for it, okay?”

As Callie stared into Bryan’s deep-set eyes, she saw for the first time the fear that lingered there. What was he afraid of? She knew he was leery of playing without Brodie, but that couldn’t explain the almost paralyzing fear she saw. In a flash of insight she understood: Bryan was afraid of losing control again and losing everything he’d worked so hard for. Could he keep it together or would he flounder again under the overwhelming grief? Suddenly she realized that she was afraid for him too. This was going to be a huge trial for him emotionally. Was he ready for it? Clearly he didn’t know, and in that instant, she didn’t either.

The internal debate was over; she was going to take this trip with Bryan, simply because he’d asked her to, because he needed her there with him.

“Tell you what, Bryan. If Tonya agrees to this, and my folks don’t put up too much of a fuss, I’ll go, but I can’t stay more than a week.”

That comment about her parents gave him pause. “You know, Callie, I know you and your family are very close.” He paused, trying to think of a tactful way to frame what he needed to say. “But they’ve only met me one time…”

Callie interrupted, “Bryan, I don’t think you know…”

Bryan raised his hand to halt her comment. “Please hear me out, Callie. I’m really not trying to put your folks down. I’m sure they’ve given you great advice over the years. You’re very close to them and I respect that. Hell, to be honest I envy it. But you’ve had time to get to know me now. Despite what your father might say, you know I’ll take care of you,” he said earnestly.

Callie couldn’t disagree. All logic to the contrary, she trusted this man. She nodded. “Bryan, I already said I would try to work it out. You can back off now,” she admonished.

“I know, but what you said about your parents…”

Callie placed both of her hands over his and looked intently into his eyes. “Bryan, you’re preaching to the choir. I’m going to try to work it out.”

Bryan could barely contain his jubilation. He leaned over and grabbed her hand. “Callie, this is going to be great!”

* * *

Callie rolled her eyes at the flight attendant. She and Bryan had taken a very early flight to avoid the crowds, and they were the only passengers in first class. The flight attendant had obviously recognized him and had immediately pulled out all the stops. He’d graciously signed autographs, ostensibly for her children, but she had spent most of the flight flirting with him. The only thing that prevented Callie from giving the woman a good smack was the fact that Bryan was coolly polite, nothing more. When the attendant offered him champagne, yet somehow neglected to offer any to Callie, he had called her on her omission. Of course, she had been profusely apologetic, but Callie knew a woman on the make when she saw one. Undoubtedly women threw themselves at Bryan all the time. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that the only thing preventing her from doing the same was pride. And a healthy dose of fear.

Bryan sat back in his seat, ignoring the flight attendant’s machinations. He was so happy that Callie had agreed to join him that little else penetrated his consciousness. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “Callie, you don’t know how glad I am that you agreed to go.”

“Sure, Bryan, I’m always willing to turn my life upside down and be at your beck and call,” she replied sarcastically. She couldn’t resist adding, “I don’t know why you need me when you’ve got women falling all over themselves for you.”

Bryan hadn’t missed the flight attendant’s attentiveness, and he knew that women would be an issue on this trip. “Callie, you’re the only woman I want to be with. I thought we cleared that up in your parents’ kitchen a few weeks ago. Yeah, there are going to be girls around on this trip. I can’t avoid it; it goes with what I do, but I’m with you, okay?”

Mesmerized by those tempestuous blue eyes, Callie could only nod in agreement. Though she still didn’t quite believe that Bryan was really interested in anything long-term with her, he hadn’t given her any reason to think otherwise. Besides, she had resolved to just relax and enjoy herself on this ultimate groupie fantasy trip. She had all but promised her parents that she would wear a hazmat suit for the duration. She had expected them to call the pastor at any moment for a “laying on of hands” before she went, metaphorically at least, into Sodom and Gomorrah. Her father had been especially troubled, but they had finally acknowledged that she was an adult and generally made good decisions. They just hoped she wasn’t going through some type of delayed adolescent phase. Callie smiled to herself. She didn’t know if it was a phase, but she knew for a fact that adolescence had never felt like this.

Jon’s guitar emitted a harsh and jarring note, and Bryan sighed heavily. This simply wasn’t working. He had no doubt as to why Jon, a man famous for his rich, smooth style, was suddenly creating notes that sounded like the wailing of howler monkeys. He was angry that Bryan had abandoned them, and it showed in his playing. They’d been rehearsing for two days, and the sound just wasn’t there. They weren’t cohesive, and the situation only got worse the more they played. This was not just rustiness from a long hiatus; this was a band on the verge of disintegration.

They had decided to play an acoustic version of Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here,” a very emotional tribute to their friend. But the tightness of sound that typified their performances had eluded them.