Zenith Rising (13 page)

She narrowed her eyes. “But how could you
have thought it was me? In there doing that? Here?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t stick around to watch
them. I just saw him and heard some stuff that sounded like...well,
you get the picture.”

Erica shut her eyes in repulsion. Thirty-two
years seemed much too old to be getting dumped, and disgraced like
that. Spencer was quiet. Erica leaned into the cold railing and
stared down at the street below. He came nearer, leaning against
the thick, concrete ledge.

“You were awesome tonight. The music was
perfect. It made the whole evening a success.”

“You mean Rob’s singing was. It always
is.”

Erica stood up straighter and looked up at
Spencer. “Why do you always do that? Give Rob all the credit?”

“Because he deserves it.”

“So do you.”

He looked away. “Quit looking at me like
that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re waiting for all my potential to
emerge. Some people aren’t like you, Doc. They aren’t achievers.
They aren’t anything. So quit thinking that I am.”

“I don’t think admitting the obvious talent
you possess is anything but that. I have no ulterior motives and
I’m not pushing anything,” she said, looking at his profile. He
refused to look at her. Quietly, she said, “You kissed me,
Spencer.”

He laughed soundlessly. “I kiss a lot of
girls, Doc. Women too. Even doctors. Don’t read too much into it, I
didn’t and I don’t.”

“I see,” she said, stiffening. God, he could
be cutting. He could be so awful. “How’d you know that night I
wouldn’t fire you? You were being such a jerk.”

“I’m called that a lot too. You’re too decent
to fire me. Especially, when you know I need the money.”

“So, you what? Acted like that because you
knew I’d let you?”

“Yeah. Pretty much. Why, Doc? Wanna come over
to my house? I can be clear and upfront with you, now that you’re
single.”

Erica sighed. He was doing that to push her
away. Anytime she got too close, or he revealed too much about
himself, he did that. He insulted her and acted ruder, knowing she
wouldn’t like it, and sure as shit wouldn’t fall for him like
Tamira, or most any other woman with red blood in her veins.

“I like you, Spencer. I really do. But
nothing could make me want to get involved with you.”

“I never said anything about getting
involved.”

“You see, the thing with me is, you would
have to be very involved. That’s why it could never happen.”

“I know it could never happen. Doesn’t take a
genius like you to see that.”

“That’s not why.”

“I know why.”

He shifted and moved away. Erica looked back
towards the city below. She felt the cool breeze over her suddenly
warm cheeks. She was annoyed, frustrated, and hurt that Roy would
cheat on her so blatantly. She wanted more, so much more from her
personal life. But as always, she didn’t really know how to make it
happen. She was as successful as any woman could be, except when it
came to her own life.

“Spence, you out here?”

They both turned towards the French doors
leading to the balcony at the sound of Rob’s voice.

“Yeah. I’m here.”

Rob stepped closer. His jacket was off. When
he was all dressed up, most of his tattoos did not show, and Erica
thought he was a startlingly sexy man. Except for his height; in
heels, Erica was a good three inches taller than he.

“Hey Dr. Heathersby.”

“Hello Rob. And for God’s sake, couldn’t
either of you try calling me by my name? It’s not a cardinal sin,
you know.”

Rob stepped back, surprised at her tone.
“Okay, Erica. Everything all right out here?” He looked from Erica
to Spencer and back again. They both shrugged, mumbling it was
fine.

“You ready to go?” Rob asked Spencer.

“Desperately.” Spencer started to follow Rob,
but stopped and turned back to Erica. “You didn’t, by any chance,
come here with Dr. Feel Good, did you?”

“Of course, I did. We even have an upstairs
suite booked for the night. I guess his coat room bimbo will be
enjoying that.”

Spencer sighed. “Just as I thought. Want a
ride home?”

“I can get one with Nick and Joelle. Call a
cab. Or a limo.”

“Right. Of course, you can.”

Erica watched him turn without an argument,
and quickly hurried after him. “But I’ll come with you. If you’ll
wait for me.”

“Wait for what?”

Erica straightened her shoulders, holding her
head up. “For me to kick Dr. Feel Good’s smug ass first.”

Spencer finally smiled at her. “I guess I
could wait for that.”

****

Spencer’s car surprised Erica. A few years
older, it was a two-door Acura, cherry red, and he kept it nearly
immaculate. There was nothing inside it, but rich, black leather
and an air freshener. Whatever Spencer once was as Spike, however
messy, sloppy, or even gross, he was meticulously clean and
clutter-free as Spencer.

By the time she got to the parking garage,
Spencer was leaning against his car, waiting. His suit jacket was
off and he had a leather jacket on. He looked gorgeous waiting
there and watching for her. He straightened even taller when he saw
her before sliding into the driver’s seat, as she silently took the
passenger side. She arranged her long, narrow dress to cover her
legs, pulling it free of her behind to get more comfortable.

“Where’s Rob?”

“He decided to go downtown.”

“Because I was coming?”

“Because it’s Rob and he still goes out a
lot. He liked the drummer tonight. I guess he’s seeing if there’s
anything there.”

“You mean for a new
Zenith
?”

Spencer shrugged and started the car. He
backed out tight and fast, squealing his tires. Then he glanced at
her with a smile. “Could be what he has in mind. I didn’t ask.”

“Why don’t you ask? Why don’t you care? Why
don’t you join him?”

“Because I’m giving you a ride home.”

“Bullshit. You care about that band. Why do
you pretend you don’t? Why don’t you want to be involved?”

“Because we couldn’t make it work in the four
years we tried. Why would it work now? I’m not looking for a repeat
performance of that, much less, the last few years.”

Erica sealed her lips tightly shut. He didn’t
know how much his statement revealed. Spencer always seemed so sure
nothing he tried would work out. If he remained cynical, believing
nothing good could happen, then he couldn’t be disappointed. She
gathered this was probably his entire attitude towards life: do
nothing and you can’t fail.

He looked at her finally. “Why are you
staring at me like that?”

“You’re afraid to be good at it, aren’t you?
You’re afraid to fulfill your obvious potential and have a
deep-seated fear that someone, somewhere, will reject you, or won’t
take you seriously. So instead of trying harder, you pretend you
don’t care. You pretended to go along with Rob, and promoted the
band out of your friendship with him, but that’s not all true. You
know you’re good at music. But you don’t pursue it seriously, or
try and make it happen, because you fear disappointment and
failure.”

“No, I prefer not to fail
anymore.”

“After what I heard tonight? You won’t fail.
You shouldn’t be wasting your time and talent, working for me at
jobs I can hire anyone with a high school diploma to do.”

He shifted his car and began driving much too
fast over the hilly side streets of Seattle. His agitation at
hearing her comment was making his gear shifting rough. “That’s
funny because I’m not even qualified to do that.”

Erica paused. Oh. Shit. He really didn’t have
his high school diploma? She never checked.

And here she was: in possession of a
doctorate, with honors and a four-point-oh average in every class
she ever took. No wonder he often looked at her as if she were an
aberration. To him, she probably was.

“You know what I meant. You have a raw,
natural talent that elevates you, and something that you should be
honing right now as a profession. Not just earning a paycheck doing
mindless work that…”

“Is beneath me? That’s the thing, Doc; it’s
not beneath me.”

“It is too. You’re more than that. So much
more.”

He let out a long breath and shifted again
before flicking the radio on. “Why don’t you just shut up for
awhile? Please. I don’t want to listen to that. Your views on my
unlimited potential, and how happy the world could be. My world
isn’t part of yours. In ways you can’t even begin to
understand.”

She snapped her mouth shut, feeling stunned.
God, he could be mean. Moody. Insulting. And scared. He seemed to
be scared shitless of his own talent and abilities. He tried to
pretend it didn’t matter, but if that were the actual case, he
wouldn’t keep getting so nasty with her every time she mentioned
it. He’d just blow her off. Instead, she knew it struck a deep,
dark chord with him.

“I’m not going to shut up because you told me
to.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh. “No, I
suppose that would be too much to ask; for you to just let me be.
Ever think someone else might be right instead of you?”

“If you hate me so much, why don’t you quit?
You seem hell-bent on doing just that. So keep insulting me. See
how nice I am then. You seem anxious to screw up everything in your
life, even a job you don’t really want.”

“You know what I hate most? You thinking that
you know anything about me. You thinking that because I’m working
for you, or playing a stupid piano, or screwing your assistant, you
know something about what motivates me. But you don’t. You don’t
know shit about me, or what I want in life.”

“Neither do you. And that’s your problem. You
don’t know either. And that’s what so frustrates you. It also makes
you nasty as hell with someone who does. Like me. You know what I
know? I know you believe you don’t want anything more out of life.
That’s what I see. You believe that floating through life with no
direction is enough for you, when I see that it’s not. I saw you up
there tonight. You can’t disguise that talent of yours, or how
differently you behave when you’re actually doing it.”

“Yeah, and how did I seem to you?”

“Confident. Controlled. You obviously cared
how the performance went. You also managed to excel at it and do it
without any mistakes. Whatever you do, I’ve learned you don’t do it
in a half-assed attempt.”

“As opposed to how I normally behave?”

“Yes. As opposed to how little you pretend to
care about everything else.”

He was silent. Waiting. “Are you done now?
Have you had your say? Enough trying to fix me for tonight? What is
it with you? Even your handyman has to fulfill his potential? You
can’t ever mind your own business, can you, Doc?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine.
Not another word, Spencer.”

“Fine.”

They were silent until he came to her condo
building. He pulled in after she swiped her card to open the gate.
He parked his car and turned it off.

“Don’t think for a second after that last
comment you’re coming up.”

“Coming up? What would I come up for?”

“Nothing. That’s exactly it.”

“Take the elevator,” he said finally, after
they stared at each other under the bright lights of the parking
garage.

“Why would you tell me that?”

“Because you take the stairs a lot. It’s dark
in the stairway, and better to be safe.”

“How would you know I take the stairs?”

He didn’t answer. Why did he notice things
like that about her?

“You don’t trust anybody, do you?”

“No. I don’t. Nothing at all. Nobody at all.
And that’s why I’m walking you to the elevator. No other
reason.”

She got out of the car and he walked with her
to the elevator. She swallowed her objection. Whatever hang-ups he
had, he seemed to take her safety rather seriously. That was so at
odds with everything else about him and everything he claimed to
be.

As they waited for elevator, Spencer finally
asked, “What did you say to Dr. Roy?”

She stared at the unopened elevator door
rather than at him. She was still furious at his remarks. “I told
him to go fuck himself and never call me again.”

“You did?” His tone sounded pleased at her
reply.

“Of course, I did. What else would I do?”

“I didn’t know what you would do. But that’s
what I would have done.”

The elevator came and Erica stepped in.
“Well, that’s great. We both tell people to screw off with the same
vehemence. Good night, Spencer.”

****

Spencer watched Erica leave. He couldn’t
resist watching her. His eyes were riveted on her all evening. She
was stunning and so beautiful, he could hardly look at her and
think a coherent thought. She was ethereal. Her white-blond hair
was swept up into a French twist, leaving her long, slender,
alabaster throat exposed. Soft tendrils framed her face, no matter
how often she tried to push them back. Her dress complimented her
breasts, and left her collarbone and pale shoulders sensually
exposed. Gold earrings swung from her ears every time she moved,
talked, or tilted her head. It only emphasized how animated Erica
Heathersby became whenever she spoke, laughed, danced, or even
breathed. She was always alive, smiling, and shining.

Then Spencer had to watch her stupid
boyfriend paw all over her. He had a bird’s eye view of her
interacting in her sensuous manner with Dr. Roy, and it hit him
like a wrecking ball in his chest. It made him play harder and
longer, while hoping to obliterate her, and forget her proximity to
him in his mind.

He couldn’t though. Even when he thought it
was she in the coat room. Even when she continually pried into his
life, and kept asking about him, even then, he couldn’t ignore his
attraction to her. He desired her and even liked her. Damn it! She
was the most irresistible, likeable person he’d ever met or been
around. She didn’t have to notice him, or even like him, but she
never failed to be nice to him. Damn it! What good was that for
him?