Authors: Kelly Clark
Romance: Rockstar Romance: Rock My World (A Bad Boy Rock Star and a College Girl Romance) (Contemporary New Adult Second Chance Romance) (4 page)
“So, they’re gone?” he said.
“Every last one,” I replied.
“Good. I can’t stand most of those people,” he said.
“Then why did you have the party?” I asked.
“Because it’s expected,” he said.
“I’ll never understand that one,” I laughed, “oh, I heard some people talking about your ex. What happened? There was nothing in the magazines.”
Ray went silent and started gently rapping his head against the cement wall he was perched against. I regretted asking the question because I could tell it was bringing him down to think about.
“We dated for a while. I thought I was in love. I even worked hard with her help to produce and
album
that I thought would be better than my first. It didn’t work out,” he said.
“So she dumped you?” I asked.
“I walked in on her with another man,” he said.
“Oh,” I sighed.
“That led me to my last album. I was so incredibly depressed I couldn’t think. Yet the studio demanded I finish the piece so they could put it out to market.”
I sat down beside him and put my arm around his shoulders.
“That’s pretty rough,” I said, “but the way I see it, you have plenty music left to make.”
He flashed me that trademark smile of his that went from ear to ear.
“I lied to you tonight,” he said while taking a sip of his beer.
“What?”
“I invited you here for another reason,” he said, “the producers wanted to hear my newest single. But, I’m not done with it yet. Even though we’ve been working almost non-stop for the last week, I haven’t been able to settle on anything. I thought if I brought you here, you could keep them entertained for me. Maybe buy me some time to finish my work.”
I laughed it off.
“That’s fine. I don’t mind helping out a friend. That
is
if I can call you a friend.”
“I’m pretty sure we’re more than friends now,” he said, “and you’ve inspired me. I think I might do some writing before I head to bed. You’re welcome to join me.”
My heart skipped a beat
“You could stay the night here,” he said.
I wanted to, so incredibly badly, but I also didn’t want to feel like I was something he used and then discarded.
“I think I’ll go home for tonight,” I said.
“Are you sure you want to?” he asked.
“It’s been an eventful night. I need to lie down in my own bed for now,” I said.
“Can I call you?” he asked.
“You better,” I replied.
I picked myself up and made for the elevator. He pulled himself up and leaned in the doorway of the balcony. He took another swig from his drink.
“I have one more thing I have to admit before I regret it tomorrow,” he said.
“What now,” I asked with a chuckle.
“I might have given some of the lyrics you wrote to one of the producers and said it was my own,” he said.
I was shocked. I felt a little betrayed, and a little frustrated. While we were writing earlier I scrawled out a few of my songs for him; he must have taken them at that time.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
“What I told you, about buying me time, it only bought a little. They wanted to see something, anything that I was working on a new piece. Then I saw your song sitting on the table and I took it. I gave it to
them
and told them it was a work in progress. I didn’t tell them it was mine.”
“And I’m supposed to feel better that you didn’t tell them it was yours?” I said angrily
“I don’t know what you’re supposed to feel. All I know is that I’m sorry. If you hadn’t helped me out tonight, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”
He stared at me with soulful eyes. The regret left a lasting impression on his face, and I had no clue how to respond. I wanted to slap
him
or kick him. But, he was the man I had spent the last five years listening to. Those five years somehow felt tainted now, by the pangs of betrayal.
“I can’t do this,” I said, “I’m supposed to be meeting a producer tomorrow.”
“A producer that I set you up with,” he said.
“Yes.”
“So you’re taking advantage of my fame to forward your own career?”
“So what? You invited me over and had me stay for a party with a bunch of people that even you can’t stand. Now you expect me to worship you for helping me out?”
“A little gratitude would be nice,” he said.
“Fine,” I said with a scowl, “thanks for all the help.”
I threw my jacket over my shoulders and stomped to the elevator. I wanted to slam a door shut in his face, but instead I stood there angrily pressing the elevator button continuously as he watched.
It was an awkward experience.
“Really, I want to slam the door here,” I said.
“I know,” he replied.
“Your elevator is taking forever,” I added.
“It
does sometimes
,” he said.
The anger that I was feeling was fleeting. I knew I wasn’t really angry with
him, I
was just angry that someone else had my
work,
and my name wasn’t attached.
The elevator
opened,
and I stepped in. He was cleaning up some of the mess the partygoers had
left
and hummed the tune of my newest song as he did. Then the elevator doors shut.
5.
I felt like an idiot.
I stood in front of the door to my apartment, but it might as well have been on the other side of the world; I had left my keys with Ray. I slapped myself in the head repeatedly for being so incredibly dumb.
I pulled out my phone and looked up his number. I was hesitant to press the call button. My phone sat at that screen for more than five minutes before it started ringing.
Ray was already calling me.
“Hello?” I asked.
“I assume the set of keys with
the
Reggie’s
Pub
keychain on it is yours?”
“I’ll be right over to get them,” I said.
The phone clicked
off,
and I began my long walk back. The night had become a bit crisp and stung my nose as I walked. I pulled my jacket a little tighter around and crossed my arms to stay warm.
I was nearly half-way to Ray’s loft when I started hearing footsteps behind me.
“You should’ve said yes when I asked you out,” I hear a voice say behind me.
Then all my muscles
stiffened,
and I fell to the ground. Steve stood over me with a Taser in hand. I wanted to run away and find someone who could help, but I couldn’t find my voice.
I should have just gone on the date with him. Horrible thoughts flashed through my mind.
“What the hell?” Steve said.
Then, in a flash, Steve was lying on the ground beside me. My eyes became slightly
blurry,
and I fell unconscious along the sidewalk.
When I awoke, to my surprise, I recognized my surroundings. I was back at Ray’s place. And, it was daylight outside. I was in his bed, and I could smell food cooking in the kitchen. Thankfully my muscles were willing to do what I wanted them to, now. I leaned over and saw Ray hard at work.
I slipped out of bed and walked over to join him.
“Ah, you’re up,” he said.
I nodded and searched around for some coffee, or some aspirin, anything to get rid of
the headache
that was starting to form in the recesses of my brain.
“What happened,” I said, taking the cup of coffee he handed me.
“You forgot your keys, and I remembered you told me you lived south
a ways.
I felt bad making you walk the entire way so I thought I might be able to meet you half-way. I was just about to call you when I heard the commotion.”
“Do people still use the word ‘commotion’? And, what happened to Steve?”
“I knocked him unconscious and called the police,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said.
He smirked and pushed a plate of food in front of me. I was thankful for it. I ate ravenously.
“Do you really like me,” I asked.
“I do,” he nodded.
“Why?”
“That’s easy. You inspire me. You make me want to write songs; songs about what it means to be alive. It’s like finding something that has been missing for so long.”
I melted inside a little. It was hard to stay mad at him.
“I called that producer, the one I gave your music to. I told him that it was your song. He was a bit upset about me giving it to him, but he said he liked it a lot.”
“So, this is where I forgive you?” I said.
“This is where you decide what you want. I can’t make you forgive me. I can’t change my mistake. All I can do is atone and hope that you’ll still be there for me.”
I got up from my seat and joined him in the kitchen. I craned my neck and kissed him on the cheek.
“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked.
“It means, you’re on the right track,” I replied.
6.
I spent a lot of time at Ray’s loft, working on songs and playing new tunes. Ray worked as a man possessed. He wrote almost two albums over the following month. I was
excited
be a part of his world.
Each day that passed brought us closer together, but still I didn’t want to get too close.
I wanted to give it a while longer before we got closer.
He didn’t mind in the slightest, and we continued to build on our relationship.
I was recording my first album with the producer I’d met at the party. It was difficult, but Ray was always there to support me. His kind words were a valuable asset.
Then it was time for me to release my first album to the world. I could think of no better place to have the release party than Reggie’s Pub. I owed him a lot. If it weren’t for his pub, and him calling me in to sing that fateful Friday night, I wouldn’t have met Ray.
“Now, the evening’s entertainment; our own special singer, Lauren,” I heard Reggie announce.
I pushed out of his tiny office. The crowd was gathered just for me, the bar was packed to capacity, and still more people waited outside for the chance to hear my music.
I had finally found my place. The lights, the guitar, the crowd, and my boyfriend Ray sitting at the bar signing his new hit single for a new fan.
Indeed, I was finally home.
*****
THE END
Table of Contents
ROCKSTAR Romance – Rock My World
BILLIONAIRE BOSS Romance – The Boss’s Kiss
SPORTS Romance – The Perfect Game
SPORTS Romance – Playing For Keeps
MAFIA Romance – Her Protection
MAIL ORDER BRIDE Collection – Western Brides
''Do you know what Obama has done for people our age?'' Olivia asked Madison and Abigail. They both looked at her blankly. Neither of them had a clue about politics. Olivia took a mild interest in current affairs, but the other two only just knew who Obama was, and certainly had no idea what he had or hadn't done for the country. ''Well, if you don't know, I'll tell you. He's done nothing. Eight years of nothing. I'm leaving this country and going to seek my fortune elsewhere,'' Olivia added.
Olivia's friends looked at her as if she'd announced she was training to be an astronaut. ''Leaving the US?'' Abigail said her blue
eyes
almost popping from her head.
''Why?'' Madison asked. ''This is the greatest country in the world.''
''Jesus, Madison, you sound like
you've been brainwashed by Fox News
. Do you
really
think this is the best country in the world? I want to see something else of the world,'' Olivia said.
Madison and Abigail looked at each other. ''It's alright for you, you went to college because you parents left you
a good
inheritance,'' Abigail said. ''You should put yourself in the position of poor people like us. We have no choice but to accept whatever
is handed
to us.''
Olivia looked at the two women and wondered why they were still her friends. ''We all went to school together, right?'' Olivia asked. They nodded. ''We went to the same school, studied the same subjects. The only difference being, I studied harder than you too lazy bitches.''
''Oh, that's not fair,'' Madison exclaimed. ''We tried just as hard as you.''
''Bullshit. In that case, why are you two working the tills at Wall Mart when I've got a college degree?'' Olivia was aware that it sounded boastful, but she'd had enough of her whining friends. ''You guys don't realize, life is what you make it. You're just too lazy to get what you want.''
''Come on Madison,'' Abigail said. ''We don't have to listen to this shit. You know Olivia since you went
to college
you've become a real snob. You're no friend of ours anymore.''
The two women got up from the table they were sitting at in The Millstone
Cafe
and walked toward the door. ''I suppose I'm paying?'' Olivia shouted after them. They both stuck a finger up at her. Tramps both of them, Olivia thought.
It wasn't going to college that had made her a snob, as Abigail had said. It was just that she hated moaners. Both of them still had their parents, yet they called her privileged because
she
'd been to college. She would have swapped all her education to have her beloved mom and dad back again. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. ''How dare they,'' she muttered under her breath.
''George, bring me the check,'' she shouted across the empty cafe.
''You're not going are you Olivia?'' he asked.
''Yer. I just fell out with those two idiots. I think I'll go for a swim.''
''I thought you'd maybe stick around, I get off work in an hour, maybe we could....''
Olivia interrupted him before he could finish. ''No thanks George. How many times have you asked me out this year?''
''Lost count,'' George said instantly.
''How many times have I said no?'' she asked.
''Same number.''
She smiled at him. ''George you're a great guy. If I'd just met you, I'd
really
dig
you,
and
I
'd want to date, but we've been neighbors since I was in
diapers,
and we went to school together.''
George, who was a lanky six-feet-three, put his hand to his chin and went to pick a spot that had been bothering him all week. ''What difference does that make?''
''It means it's boring. There is nothing to discover between us. It's all been said and done. I need adventure, something different to make me feel something. I'm going fucking crazy in this two-bit town.''
He loved Olivia. She was the only women he'd ever asked out. He loved her enthusiasm for life and the fact that she had the hottest body in town. She was
blonde,
and her face was so
pretty
she turned heads as she walked along the street. If he couldn't have her, he'd take a rain check on women he'd previously decided. ''I'm sorry you're feeling unsettled. I love our town.''
''George, it's a backwater. An insignificant bunch of
boring
buildings and even more
boring
people.''
''Then go and get rid of your wanderlust. Stop telling everyone how pathetic they are for liking it here, and go.''
''Am I arguing with you now as well?'' she asked.
''No. But sometimes you sound like broken record that just goes round and round and round.''
He was probably right, she thought. Since her parents had died, she'd felt increasingly isolated. People had been very kind to her, and supported her through her grief, but she'd pulled back into her
own
world,
and now all she could do was tell other people how lazy and boring they were. She would go away and experience something else in the world. She'd get a job in another country.
That evening she sat alone in what used to be her parents home, which was now hers, and searched the internet for journalism jobs.
''London,'' she muttered. ''Hundreds of jobs.'' George had hit the nail on the head, she told herself. She needed to put her words into action. She had more than enough money to tide her over until she found a good job, and she could get an agent to look after her house in the US.
''Six hundred bucks. Okay,'' she said as she hit the 'BOOK' key on the British Airways website.
*****
''This happens to me every time I fly,'' a short man said as he raked his hand over the sweat covering his bald head. ''You'd think with better technology airlines would be able to get their act together. But no, they make all the excuses under the sun for their tardiness.''
''This is the first international flight I've ever taken,'' Olivia said as she stared at the departures board. ''It just says delayed, don't they have to give a reason?''
''My dear girl, you
are being
very naive if you think they would tell their customers anything. They are perfectly happy to take our money, but tell us what's happening when things go wrong, never.'' The man had a British
accent; he
sounded very much like Prince Charles to Olivia' untrained ear. ''If I were
you,
I'd go to the information desk and ask, but all they'll say is that they can't be held
liable
and that it's not their fault.''
She went to the British Airways help desk and
waited in
a long line of disgruntled passengers. When it was her turn, the lady in a blue and red uniform, told her exactly what the man had said she would say.
''I'm sorry but it's beyond our
control,
and we certainly can't be held liable.''
''But can you give me any idea at all when the plane is likely to leave?''
''I'm sorry, I can't at the moment. Please keep your eye on the departures board.''
Olivia like all the others turned away none the wiser and considerably more disgruntled.
''Frustrating isn't it?'' a man said just as Olivia was about to sit down in a place where she could watch the flight board.
''Yes, very,'' she answered without looking at him.
''I assume you're going to London?'' he asked.
Jesus, you're the hottest piece of man meat I've ever seen, she thought when she did eventually look at him. It had been a long time since she'd had sex, and she'd
found that
she was thinking increasingly
lurid
thoughts whenever she saw a hot man. This guy, however, was more than hot, and her thoughts began to run away with her. Any position you want, she thought, all I ask is you do me
really
hard.
''Going to London?'' he asked again when he noticed how she was staring at
him but
not offering to answer.
''Er.....yes. Sorry, yes I'm going to London,'' she eventually managed to say.
''I'm afraid it looks like we're in for a long wait,'' he said.
''Yes. They don't seem to be able to tell us anything. That's the worst part.''
''It's par for the course,'' he said.
She looked more closely at him, and decided she would not only let him take her in any position he
wanted
but also at anytime he chose. He was sitting in the row behind
her,
and she'd turned round to talk to him. Little was she aware that the third button on her blouse had slipped
open,
and he was
being treated
to a
really
wholesome view.
''Why are you trying to get to London?'' she asked.
''Business,'' he said without revealing anything. She tried to guess what kind of business. He didn't fit the
boring
banker category, neither did he look like an accountant, a lawyer or a
salesman
. In fact, if she had to pick a profession for him, she would pick something dangerous
like a
mercenary, a
policeman
, a private detective or even some kind of criminal.
''Bank robber,'' she said without meaning to, it just slipped out.
''What. You think I'm a bank robber?''
She turned crimson. Shit, get a grip, she told herself. ''Sorry. I was trying to guess your profession. You look like the kind of man who would do something slightly illegal or dangerous for a job.''
''No.
Actually, what
I do is very mundane. But very lucrative.''
''Are you going to tell me what it is?'' she said.
''Are you going to come and have
a coffee
with me?'' he replied.
''Yes,'' she said immediately. She cringed when she noticed her blouse. Not only do you
say
yes to him
immediately
, like some
kind of
overgrown schoolgirl, but you're showing him all you attractions for free, she thought.
The Thirsty Flier was a plastic paradise in the middle of the departure lounge. It
was packed
with passengers as frustrated as Olivia. They found two chairs against a back
wall
and sat under a fake palm tree.
''Why are you going to London? Modeling?''
She looked at him to make sure he wasn't pulling her leg. No, he seemed
serious
. ''Why do you say that?''
''Tall, slender, lovely pert figure, long straight blonde hair, emerald green eyes any man would die for and
a lovely
smile. Perfect attributes for a career in modeling.'' Now she decided she would marry him as soon as he asked. ''Why did you think I was a bank robber.''
''Well, you're tall.''
''Is that the only qualification?''
''I can't describe it. You look
tough
, as though you don't take any BS from anybody. The scar on your cheeks helps.'' He ran his index finger over it. She wanted to know how he'd got
it
but was afraid it would prove to be a more mundane reason than she wanted to believe.
''What are you going to do in London?'' he asked.
''I've recently graduated in journalism. I thought it would do me good to work abroad for a while.''
''Do you have a job lined up?''
''No I was going to see what I could find when I got there.''
He sipped his coffee and looked at her. He was sad she'd closed her blouse. ''Very enterprising. I bet you're
a good
journalist.''
''I don't
really
know. I did great at college, but that's not the real world. Maybe I would suck at
it; I
have no idea.''
''I don't think you would suck at it. I can see you've got what it takes.''
''Oh what?'' she moaned when the airline finally announced that the plane wouldn't be leaving that day because of a technical fault. ''I can't go home, I live miles away. Do you know any good hotels in Boston?'' she asked.
*****
''Is this your house?'' Olivia asked
''Yes. Why do you sound so surprised?''
“Because it's huge.'' She paused. ''And you live here alone?''
''Do you know we haven't introduced ourselves. We've been talking all
afternoon
and I don't even know you name,'' he said ignoring her question.
