Rock Star's Ballad (White Mist Series Book 3) (11 page)

 
“Do you think that I’m going to let anything stop me from claiming you again?”

“I won’t let you do this,” she whispered.
 

“You don’t have to do anything,” he promised and the look in his eyes made her stomach flip. “I’ll take care of everything.”

His lips captured hers and she gasped. Johnny took the opening and swept his tongue into her mouth. Demi’s hands landed on his arms to shove him away, but when he deepened the kiss, her nails dug into his flesh and Johnny took this as encouragement. His hands slid over her curves until he reached her ass. He lifted her slightly, pressing her against his erection. Demi delved a hand between them. Her hand was at the waistband of his sweats when the front door opened.
 

“Oh, my.”

Their mouths broke apart and Demi and Johnny stared at one another, breathing hard.
 

“Outside, Regan,” Johnny snapped and the door shut.
 

Demi shoved away from Johnny and smoothed a hand over her dress to give herself time to recover. Johnny leaned against the counter, cursing.
 

“That’s a bad habit she has,” Johnny said gruffly.
 

Demi didn’t say a thing. She stared at Johnny and realized that where this guy was concerned, she had no will power at all. She was seduced by his words—hook, line, sinker. She had to get away from him. Without a word, she ran to the front door and slammed it behind her. She quickly settled in the passenger seat of Regan’s SUV.
 

“Go, go, go!” Demi said a little hysterically as if she were on the run from the law.
 

“Demi, what—”

Johnny came out of the house and Demi reached out to put the car in reverse, but froze when she saw that Johnny had her purse. She needed her ID and credit card to get a hotel room or apply for an apartment. Johnny didn’t look harried or out of sorts. He ambled over to them and paused to wave at his neighbors. Apparently, having his half naked torso on display was a normal occurrence because they waved back with friendly smiles. Johnny came over to Demi’s side of the car. Before she could press the lock button, he opened the door. He settled her purse on her lap and ‘accidentally’ brushed his hand on her bare thigh. Demi glared at him.

“I’m meeting you two for lunch. What time?” Johnny asked.
 

“Noon,” Regan said with a grin.
 

Johnny turned to Demi. He was so close, all she had to do was lean forward an inch and they’d be lip locked, again. She could feel the warmth of his skin and wasn’t sure whether she wanted to haul him close or slap his face. Before she could decide, he smiled at her.
 

“Bye, baby.”

Demi growled low in her throat as Johnny closed her door and sauntered back to the house. If Regan wasn’t there, she might have gone after him and pummeled his head.
 

“Oh my.” Regan started the car and backed out of the drive. “So, how was your night?”

“A disaster,” Demi snapped and then, “I need to find an apartment.”

“There’s some apartments just out of town, but they’re not the best—”

“Sounds perfect. I need to make an appointment.”

Regan cruised through a school zone at a snail’s pace.
 

“He made me an omelet,” Demi bit out.
 

“He can’t cook for shit.”

“I know and he did it anyway.”

“Hmm.”

“He says he wants me back!” she exploded, throwing her hands up. It was crazy! Men didn’t say things like,
I have never regretted anything more in life than not fighting for you
. It was, like, a line from a movie! Maybe it was because Johnny was a songwriter or because he was the world’s most seasoned player, but his lines were to die for and she hated it! No one talked like that or made declarations like,
Even after thirteen years, I took one look at you and my heart nearly ripped in two
. Like,
really
?

“I could have told you that,” Regan said with an eye roll. “I knew you were different when he sang that song for you on stage. Johnny’s been acting like a possessive lunatic since you arrived.”

“He must be like this with all his women,” Demi said, trying to put things in perspective.
 

“No,” Regan said reflexively. “Johnny doesn’t go out of his way for any woman because he doesn’t want them to think he’s in it for the long haul. With you, he’s doing everything possible to show you he’s serious.” Regan snorted. “I heard he went shopping yesterday. Now,
that’s
a first.”
 

Regan parked and they got out of the car and walked along the sidewalk to Ever After. Other shop owners waved or called out to Regan who smiled. Demi shook herself. This was her first day on the job and she couldn’t afford to be distracted by Johnny. He didn’t factor into her future.
 

“Where’s Chase?” Demi asked to change the subject.
 

“He’s with my mom. She’s off today.”

They waked into Ever After and Regan called out for Bethany. She appeared behind the front counter and waved them through to the back room, which had a long work table filled with tape measures, scissors, needles, crystals and lace scraps. There were two sewing machines and a colorful array of spools. In the corner of the room, a mannequin wore a dramatic wedding gown that stopped Regan and Demi in their tracks. The mermaid gown had sheer lace at the shoulders and an open back that was in equal turns flattering and daring. Pearl buttons began at the base of the spine and highlighted the curve of the bride’s bottom. The whole gown was covered in lace, which made it appear traditional from the front and modern from the back. The gown had a train with a scalloped lace edge and a matching cathedral length veil. The result was romantic and breathtaking. Demi and Regan stared at the dress in reverent silence.

“What are you—? Oh,” Bethany came out of the tiny office to see what the holdup was.
 

“I got married in jeans and leather,” Regan said quietly. “If I’d seen this dress, I would have waited a year and let Missy plan the big wedding she wanted for me.”

“I would have married Barry just to wear this,” Demi breathed and then reconsidered. “Well, not Barry, but I’d marry any other man for this dress.”

“How about the guy you’re living with? He’s available,” Regan said and Demi elbowed her. Hard.
 

“Who’s the designer? If you’re selling dresses like this, you shouldn’t have any financial problems,” Regan said. “This dress must be at least five thousand.”

Bethany’s hands fluttered at her sides. “This is the only dress that I have like this.”

“Well, you need to order more of them,” Regan said and bent over to get a better look. “This is amazing.”

“I only do gowns when I have spare time.”
 

“Hold up,” Regan jerked upright and held her hand in front of her like a traffic cop. “
You
made this dress?”

“It’s a hobby,” Bethany said with a one shoulder shrug. “It still needs work and…”

Regan made a hissing sound that made Bethany trail off into silence. Regan walked forward slowly, stiletto boots clicking menacingly. She prowled around Bethany with narrow eyes as if she were a potential terrorist. Demi wondered if Regan learned this technique from her brother-in-law, the Chief of Police. Bethany crossed her arms and glared.
 

“You worked at Tyra Richie’s, am I right?” Regan asked.
 

“Tyra Richie?” Demi echoed, recognizing the name of the exclusive wedding boutique in New York.
 

“You were head seamstress or something?” Regan barked.

Bethany lifted her chin. “I still work there. I’m Director of Alterations.”

“Why be a seamstress when you can be a designer?” Regan asked.
 

Bethany blinked. “I didn’t go to school for design. I’m self taught.”

“So?” Regan said rudely. “Who cares where you learned to sew? You can
sew
.”

Bethany bristled. “I know I can. That’s how I make my living.”

Regan eyed her impatiently. “You think I don’t know the difference between a frilly gown and what you have on the mannequin? It’s freaking art. I know it when I see it, you feel me?”

“Thanks,” Bethany said in a voice that made it clear that she wished that neither of them had seen the gown.

Regan pursed her lips. “We’ll assess the store first and then I’ll set up a label for you.”

Bethany’s eyes widened in alarm. “A
label
?”

“Yeah. Think of a logo. I have to look at some sites to get an idea of what your website should look like, but I can—”

It was Bethany’s turn to make the stop sign with her hand. She was clearly panicked. “Regan Lee, I want you to look at Ever After, not establish me as a designer. It’s a hobby, not—”

“That,” Regan said and pointed at the gown, “is not a hobby. Don’t put yourself down like that.”

“But I—”

“I’ll see where Ever After is at financially and then I’ll make your dreams come true. Where are the reports?”

Bethany was clearly torn between relief and unease, but she led them into a small office that looked like a tornado blew through it. Papers were tossed on the floor and the desk. There was a fine layer of dust over everything and although Regan warned her, Demi’s heart sank when she didn’t see a computer, file cabinet or even a calculator. Regan gave Demi a long look before they began to gather the papers off the floor and shuffle them into manageable stacks.

“Sorry it’s such a mess. I don’t know how my mom or Grandma Pat find anything,” Bethany said from the doorway. “I’ve been so backed up with alterations—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Regan said shortly as she held up a faded receipt and examined it with narrow eyes.
 

Bethany hovered in the doorway for a few minutes before she left. Demi wasn’t sure why Bethany doubted her skill with the needle, but she sided with Regan. It was wrong to create beauty like that and never have anyone wear it. They would have to figure out a way to open Bethany’s eyes and embrace her dream, but first they had to clean up this office.
 

Chapter Five

Demi and Regan spent an hour trying to make the office hospitable. Demi felt like a giant in the small space and kept hitting shelves or the rickety desk, spilling papers everywhere. Regan finally sat her down and gave her a stack of papers, ordering her to file them by dates. Demi felt a thrill of dread when her eyes fell on a shelf of stained ledgers. Surely, Regan wouldn’t have to go through those old records, right?
 

Within two hours, Demi wanted to pull her hair out. How could anyone run a business this way? Everything at The Ashton Hotel was electronic. She couldn’t remember the last time she wrote a check, but the desk was riddled with them. When Demi got her first paper cut, she silently damned paper to hell.
 

Regan was meticulous and focused. She looked at each piece of paper as if they were puzzle pieces to a treasure map rather than receipts and figures that didn’t make sense yet. It was clear to Demi why Regan had risen to the top in Martin Hotels. When she was working, Regan adopted a Type A personality that was almost scary to behold. If her father hadn’t been the same when it came to business, Demi would have thought Regan was bipolar.
 

Bethany pattered around the workroom. The sound of the sewing machine became a familiar background hum. Voices echoed into the back from the shop and Bethany immediately stopped what she was doing to attend to her customers. Every moment Bethany wasn’t in the shop, she worked on a seemingly endless rack of garments that needed to be altered.
 

The morning went by quickly. It was mindless, repetitive work. Bethany made coffee, which they accepted gladly. The three of them worked in silence. She and Regan had the damnedest time trying to figure out which papers were important since all of them were handwritten and covered in scribbles for dress measurements, random phone numbers and peppered with loose threads, material or a lone rhinestone.

“You two ready for lunch?”
 

Johnny stood in the doorway with Bethany who looked uncomfortable and kept a large gap between them. Johnny was dressed casually in jeans and a white shirt and his eyes were fixed on her. Despite not wanting to be around Johnny, she was more than ready for a break and dropped the stack of papers she was working on.
 

“I’m starved,” Regan announced as she stood and stretched.
 

“Make sense of anything yet?” Bethany asked.

“There’s a lot to go through,” Regan said, “and your grandmother doesn’t have the best handwriting.”

Bethany bit her lip and then her concerned look vanished and she was composed once more. “Have a good lunch.”

“You’re coming with us,” Regan stated.
 

“I usually just grab a salad from—”

Regan hooked her arm through Bethany’s and led her out of the office. Realizing Regan wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Bethany snatched her bag on the way to the door and asked Demi to lock up the shop. Bethany tried to get away from Regan who marched her down the sidewalk like a parole officer. Demi shook her head as she followed with Johnny.
 

“Is Regan always like this?” Demi asked.

“Like what?”
 

She glanced at him and saw that he looked honestly bewildered. “Never mind.”

“Hey!” Regan shouted and waved.
 

A big man dressed in jeans, work boots and a trucker’s hat smiled broadly at them. Regan released Bethany, ran across the street and threw herself at the mountain man who caught her up in a hug. Demi was so busy watching Regan that she nearly ran into Bethany who headed back to Ever After.
 

“Diner’s the other way,” Johnny said, tossing an arm over Bethany’s shoulder and forcing her back around.

Bethany looked up at him and then away. “I brought my own lunch.”

“Save it for tomorrow,” Johnny said carelessly. “What’s your name? I’m Johnny.”