Snapshot (30 page)

 
“Ooh, kitty has claws,” Courtney taunted, as she went out the door, leaving it open.

“You let my cat out!”

“Better keep an eye on your pussy.” Courtney’s laugh could be heard all the way down the hall.

Great. Now she had no choice but to go say hi to the Graphite Angels, who, as far as Marti was concerned, were anything but angels.

Marti walked into the middle-aged fray of a band who’d seen their better days. She would have preferred to look for Kahlua and retreat to her room, but Grandma raised her with better manners than that.

“Martini! Come on over, you remember the guys!” Her dad couldn’t hide his joy. It was nice to see him happy over something as simple as a band reunion. He wore outrageous reptile-patterned pants with a bright pink leopard print shirt; numerous pendants hung from his neck on leather cords. Her rocker dad was in fine form.

At first, she didn’t recognize the men. She pasted a smile on her face and joined the motley crew. A heavy-set guy with a large bald spot took one look at Marti and broke into a grin.

“This can’t possibly be the little cupcake who used to play inside my drum cases.” He held his arms wide.

“Teddy!” Marti stepped into his bear hug. He hadn’t changed a bit, if you didn’t count the extra forty pounds and the hair loss.

“This is Martini? Not possible.” Frank, the lead singer, said, inhaling his cigarette. He wore skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, and fedora.

“Hi Frank,” she said, remembering the screaming matches he and her dad used to have.

“Steven, there’s no way a guy as ugly as you could have a daughter as beautiful as this,” said Jon. Jon played bass, and his long rocker hair had turned to a lovely shade of gray.

Marti blushed, and her dad puffed up with pride. As she greeted and hugged each band member, she remembered the good times from long ago. Most of those good times unfortunately ended ugly, but that was the past. She noticed Courtney outside of the reunion circle, ignored, at least for the moment. She wore a sneer of displeasure. Marti bet Courtney wasn’t used to
not
being the center of attention.

While Marti only meant to say hi and leave, she got caught up in visiting with these men from her childhood. She enjoyed feeling like she belonged, for a change. In a way, her dad’s band was part of her family, and she didn’t have much family left.

The band members talked about the upcoming tour and tossed around ideas. Frank expressed a definite opinion as to how it should go. Marti could tell her dad didn’t agree by the way he ignored every comment. Even so, the atmosphere stayed upbeat. Within an hour, more people arrived, none of whom she recognized.

“Hey, Martini, come on over and say hi to Jack,” her dad called.

Jack? As in her half-brother, Jack Daniels Hunter?
Last time she saw him, he was fourteen and a holy terror, spraying graffiti on the side of buildings, shoplifting, and smoking dope.
 

She joined her dad, but didn’t spot Jack. Then she saw a guy talking to Courtney. He was the height of her dad, but with scruffy blonde hair, wearing a baggy t-shirt. His jeans hung from his skinny hips.

“Jack, remember your sister, Martini?” her dad said.

Jack glanced up, his eyes droopy. He looked Marti up and down as if she were a pair of shoes he’d forgotten. “No shit?”

Yup, that was Jack. Not much changed with him in six years. “No shit.” Marti mirrored his answer.

“Cool,” he said to his long lost sister and turned to their dad. “Hey Steven.” Jack never called him Dad. “You talk to your agent about my band yet?”
 

“We’ll talk about it another time,” he answered.

“Why haven’t you called him? All we need is someone to give us a fucking break! Jesus, man, you won’t even help out your own son.”

Their dad got up close in Jack’s face. “I said we’ll talk about this tomorrow.” And he walked away. “I need a drink. Anybody need a drink?” He called to the room in general.

Several cheers of agreement rose, and the bunch headed out to the pool bar.

“Asswipe,” Jack said under his breath and stormed off the other way.

Courtney smiled like a satisfied cat, which reminded Marti that she’d forgotten to look for Kahlua.
 

A moment of panic hit. If Kahlua ran away, Marti didn’t know if she could find her way back. The mansion was built on the side of a steep hill, home to plenty of wild animals. Kahlua could be quick dinner to a fox. Ignoring Courtney, the bitch on wheels, Marti turned and began her search.

It took her a while to search all the rooms with doors open. She peeked under beds and large furniture. She searched the yoga room, the breakfast room, and the sitting room filled with platinum records and trophies. Nothing.

Back in the Great Room, she tried to be more discreet. Most of the guests were outside and well on their way to a raging hangover. Above the din of voices, she heard a couple people arguing. Now that felt familiar! A nice evening escalating into a full-out brawl.
 
She better find the damn cat and fast.
 

A new ruckus sounded outside and then laughter. She looked out the patio doors to see Nigel, decked out in a silky shirt and dress pants, gripping Kahlua by the scruff of the neck.
 

“Look what I found,” he bragged. “Sweet little pussy. She wanted to join the party.”
 

Marti stepped outside.
Oh shit
. Her heart pounded as he swung her cat around by the fur of her neck. Marti fought the urge to barrel out there and demand he set her cat down, because instinct told her he’d do the opposite.

Kahlua meowed her frustration. Nigel glanced in Marti’s direction and saw her fury. He turned the cat’s face toward him. “What’s that you say? Pussy wants to go for a swim?”

The group around him laughed. He watched Marti’s anger turn to fear.

“If you insist,” he said to the cat and walked to the edge of the deep end.

“Nigel! Put her down!” Marti yelled, running toward him.

His eyes narrowed. He smirked and flung Kahlua into the pool. The drunk onlookers roared with laughter.

“No!” Marti screamed, but no one heard. She rushed to the side as Kahlua floated to the top and started swimming, which, she had to admit, did look funny.

Nigel stared at Marti in challenge. Kahlua swam to the edge of the pool a few feet past him. Marti rushed to fetch her.
 

Nigel stepped in her path. “Looks like your pussy got wet.”
 

Marti boiled with embarrassment and rage. She wanted to smash his face in. Instead, she shoved him hard. In his inebriated state, he couldn’t catch himself. He splashed in the pool, fancy clothes and all.

Marti rushed to the side of the pool in time to scoop Kahlua out. The sopping wet, pissed off cat meowed loudly. If Kahlua still had claws, Marti would have been toast.
 

Nigel came up sputtering. “You little bitch!”

The guests applauded.

“Next time, I’ll break the little fuckers neck!” he yelled.

A deafening roar sounded from the house. She looked up as someone on a motorcycle rode through the great room into the pool area, revving the engine.
 

This party was getting way out of hand. Marti rushed back into the house, holding Kahlua tighter. The little shit mewed and bit Marti’s neck.
 

Marti rubbed her sore neck. “But isn’t that how things are lately?” she said to the cat. “You try to be nice, and end up getting bitten.”

*
 
*
 
*

Adam tried to shake away his desperate need for sleep. Morning shows were the worst. The band had to be there at the butt crack of dawn for sound check. Last night they were only supposed to work until midnight on the video shoot, but, as always, technical screw-ups kept them there ‘til after two a.m. Three and a half hours of sleep was not cutting it.

So here he was, on a stage in Times Square with his brothers. Normal people were still in bed, not shivering in the early morning hours. Temporary fencing held back the growing crowd of diehard fans who kept yelling his name.
 

He’d waved and smiled a few times, but really just wanted to be left alone. He kept searching the crowd of faces, but the one face he wanted to see—Marti’s, of course—wasn’t there. He turned his back to the fans, effectively blocking out their neediness. The band was only rehearsing. The show wasn’t for another two hours. He’d let Garrett and Peter handle the fans for a change.
 

The guitar in his hands became his only solace. While the guys waited for the sound engineers to do their thing, Adam absent-mindedly played one rift after another. He didn’t even think about playing; he’d lived and breathed it for so long, playing was like chewing food. You just did it.

Peter tossed the cordless mic in the air and caught it with ease. “Have you talked to Marti lately?”

“Not since the day before yesterday. We’ve texted, but that’s about it. With this crappy schedule and the time difference, we can’t seem to connect.”

“How’s she doing at her dad’s in LA? I know she didn’t want to go.”

“She says she’s fine, but I can tell there’s a lot she isn’t telling me. She always sounds so lost.” The fact he couldn’t do anything to help tore at him.

“That’s gotta suck. I wish she could get to know Libby more. I think Libby could really help her through this. She was left to fend for herself, so she knows what Marti’s going through.”

“I don’t know how that would happen when even I can’t spend time with her. This distance is killing me.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Wow, I’d say you’re whipped.”

Adam pushed a hand through his hair. It had grown back in fast, and the ends were beginning to curl. “All I know is I can’t get her out of my mind. I’ve never met anyone like Marti, and I need to be with her. It’s like I’m dying a slow death. Suffocating or something.”

“Geez, you do have it bad.” Peter laughed and Adam wanted to wipe the grin off his face.

“You know, I thought if anyone would understand how I feel, it would be you.” Adam couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes.

“Sorry, man, you’re right. It’s just everything is finally working in my life, and I’ve never been happier.” Peter waved at a group of girls showing off a
We love you, Peter!
sign.

“Yeah, I can see that every minute of every day.” Adam strummed a few bars of Classical Gas. “I need to get to LA. I’m worried about her. There’s a lot she isn’t telling me.”

“Like what?”

Adam looked at Peter’s mic. “Is that thing on?”

Peter checked it. “No. It’s off.” He set it at the front of the stage and turned back to Adam. “What’s on your mind?”

Adam didn’t know how to say it. Hell, he didn’t
want
to say it. He glanced at Peter, who waited expectantly. Then he blurted it out. “Marti might be pregnant.”

Peter’s eyes widened.

Garrett appeared at Adam’s side. “Did you just say what I fucking think you did?”

Adam swore at the heavens. The last person who needed to know his business was Garrett. “This doesn’t concern you. Walk away.”

“Hell it doesn’t! If it leaks out that you knocked up some girl, we’re going to have a shitload of bad press.”

Adam resisted the urge to slug him. Press was the least of his worries.

 
“What’s wrong with you? Are you out of your fucking mind? Getting a girl pregnant! You’re a bigger idiot that I thought!” Garrett pushed Adam.

“Listen, asshole! You don’t know anything about this.” Adam shoved Garrett . Garrett barely caught himself. Girls in the crowd pointed and started snapping pictures.

Peter stepped between them. “Whoa! Cool off! On stage isn’t the place to be talking about this. Garrett if you want bad press, go ahead and start a fight for the fans to photograph.”
 

Garrett huffed.

“Adam, put it out of your head until after the concert.”

Like he could ever do that! Now that he’d voiced his worries, the problem seemed bigger than ever. Combined with how heartsick he felt for Marti, he couldn’t stand being here.

“You know this is going to break Mom’s heart,” Garrett said.

“You are NOT going to tell her!” Adam got back in Garrett’s face before Peter could intercede.

“Of course not, douche bag, but it will! I knew taking that break was a bad idea.”

“Garrett, back off!” Peter barked.
 

Adam appreciated the buffer.

“And you,” Peter added. “Stop being such an easy mark. Let’s get this show over with, and then you and I are going to talk.”

Adam stepped to one side of the stage and Garrett sidled to the other. Adam didn’t say another word.
 

Peter shot him a supportive nod.

Adam frowned. He sighed, and they moved on with the sound check.