Fade to Red (6 page)

Beckham couldn’t take his eyes off of Roxie. Her bare stomach rippled as she did things superior to any belly dancer. Brad was trying to keep up with her, but Beckham barely saw him. His eyes landed on her chiseled stomach and couldn’t budge. And her laugh. God. She made his chest and stomach clench, along with other body parts.

He walked over to the table and laughed along with everyone else. When they noticed him standing there, it went silent, fast. Shit. It was enough to get a complex. He put on a cocky smile and nodded at Roxie.

“Do that wearing a bikini, and you’re hired!” he said with a laugh.

Fuck!
Why the hell did that come out of his mouth? His first time speaking to her and he acted like a creeper? Everyone laughed. Except Roxie. She went completely still and her red cupid’s bow lips tightened into a scowl. She pulled down her shirt and pushed back from the table. The other dancers were too busy staring at Beckham to even notice Roxie walking out of the room.

“Excuse me,” he said to the table and got out of there.

He looked both ways and saw her at the end of the hall to the right, either headed for the restroom or the practice room.

“Roxie! Wait up!”

She turned around and looked tempted to keep walking.

He jogged up to her and put a hand on her arm. She quickly pulled away. For a moment, he couldn’t even think straight. Wow, she was hostile.

“I’m really sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It just … was stupid.” He paused, not sure what else to say, since she wasn’t saying anything. “Roxie, right?”

She looked everywhere but in his eyes. He blinked and inched closer, thinking he saw tears in her eyes. Shit—had he really upset her that much?

“Look, please. Forgive me. What can I do to make it up to you?” he asked when she still wasn’t speaking. “Dinner?”

She snorted. “That’s how you fix everything, isn’t it? You think you can say anything and everyone just bends. ‘Oh Beckham Woods, you’re so
hilarious
! Everything you say and do is
so
fabulous! Let me just bask in your presence!’ Uh, no, thank you very much to dinner.” She slapped her hand over her mouth and stared at him.

The seconds pulsed in the air like bullets hitting their target. She turned suddenly and practically ran away.

Beckham was so stunned, he didn’t move until Anthony came down the hall with everyone else.

“You gonna stick around?” Anthony asked as he was passing Beckham.

Beckham had planned to say something to the group—to welcome them and thank them for committing to the tour—but he was so confused by what had happened with Roxie that he shook his head.

“I’m gonna head back home. Thanks for being here,” he said to the dancers. “I … well, I’ll see you later in the week. Don’t let Anthony be too hard on ya!” He tried to sound light, but knew he just needed to get out of there before he could screw things up further.

He sped home in his Jag, winding around the hills faster than he should. He was so angry with himself, but the more he thought about it, the more he resented Roxie’s attitude. What the hell? He hadn’t really done anything that awful. The whole thing was just embarrassing.

When he got home, he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottled water. He’d rather have a Jameson and Coke right now, but he’d settle for safe. Damn Roxie. She’d already made him want to cave on two of his vices and they’d barely spoken.

He picked up the phone and called Anthony. He knew his phone was off, but he wanted Anthony to hear the message as soon as he was done with rehearsals.

“Hey, Anthony. I need to talk to you about Roxie Taylor. I’m thinking Vanessa might be a better fit for the sets with me. I got Roxie all worked up today … and I just don’t see us having much chemistry when it comes down to it.”

He knew that was a lie. She might not feel it, but even as much as she had humiliated him, he still wanted to wrap his hands all over her body.

“Anyway … think about it. I’d be more comfortable. Vanessa and I have worked well together before—it wouldn’t be as far of a stretch.”

He hung up and felt better, but knew he had another call to make. She answered on the first ring.

“Hi, honey. How did it go today?”

“Hey, Ma. I left early. I’ll go back in a couple days. They don’t really need me yet. Anthony’s got it.”

“Okay, well, do you want to come over for supper tonight?”

His mom had her southern accent still, and nobody anywhere did good southern food like her. He always felt his accent slide on just a little more when he talked to her.

“That’s just what I need, Ma. When you want me?”

“You know you can come over whenever you feel like it,” she said.

“How ’bout I get a few things done around here and then I’ll be over. Is Sierra there?”

“Sure is. She’ll be glad to see you. Come on.”

He hung up with her and felt better yet. Time with his mom and sister always did him good. His dad had passed away a little over five years ago, with no warning. It had shaken their whole world. A seemingly healthy man, he’d had a heart attack in his sleep and died instantly. Nothing would ever be quite the same without his dad. It was part of the reason Beckham was anxious to be done with all the traveling—he knew his mom and sister needed him around more.

When his dad died, months went by that he barely came out of the stupor. His mom and sister didn’t talk about it much anymore, but when they did, they always bawled. He never wanted to put them through that again, and he hoped one day he could make up for the time they’d lost.

He planned to talk them into Italy when the time came. It wouldn’t be that hard—they’d gone to Italy a handful of times together and always talked about what it’d be like to live there. The slower pace of life sounded better all the time.

When he got to the house later that afternoon, he ran up the steps and walked right inside.

“I’m home. Anybody here?” he hollered.

“Back here, honey,” his mom called.

His sister stepped out of the kitchen and came walking toward him. “Hey, stranger. How are ya?”

“Better now. It’s been a long day,” he admitted.

“Well, come on. Once Ma found out you were coming, she put together a feast. You’d almost think you were her favorite or something.”

“No, the daughter always trumps, you know that.”

She scrunched up her nose. “Is that how it works? You better tell Ma that.”

Sierra was a few years older than him and they’d always been close. She teased him about being the favorite, but she had always been so proud of him. He’d tried every tour to convince her to come sing backup with him, but she wasn’t interested. When they finished their family traveling days, she was
done
. She didn’t want to see the inside of another tour bus.

“I need you to get her to stop trying to set me up. I don’t need a hipster musician. That’s all she wants to set me up with? Give me a nerd any day!”

“Shut up. That’s so offensive!” Beckham jabbed her in the side. “I resemble that!”

She groaned. “You know you’re a nerd in sheep’s clothing. All this hip rock star vibe thing you got going … I know you’re just a nerd begging to be loved.”

He gave her another good jab until she slapped his hand and tattled.

“MA! Beckham is picking on me!” she hollered.

“Oh, please.” He did it again just to annoy her. “Sierra’s calling me names,” he yelled, laughing and backing away as Sierra tried to pinch him.

Their mom came out with an apron on, wiping her hands on it. “There you are. Have you two already started? Come on, set the table, B. It’s almost ready.”

And just like that Beckham felt himself again. Well, almost.

“Please go on tour with me this year. Please, Sierra. I need you. Please.” He clasped his hands together and got on his knees, following her like that all the way to the kitchen.

“What is your problem?” she laughed. “I’m too old for tours. I have a good job, thank you.”

“Don’t you miss singing? It’s in your blood. I know you miss it.”

“Occasionally, I do … but not enough to get in a bus with all your crazy entourage. That time in Japan cured me. Your fans are cuh-razy. No, thank you.”

Twice today I’ve been rebuffed with fake politeness
, he thought and then shook his head. Roxie wasn’t going to bust his good mood. They started eating and he was still on the topic.

“Did I mention Ian Sterling is going?”

“NO, you didn’t tell me!” Her eyes were huge. “You should have opened with that.”

“Oh, even I knew that, honey. It’s been all over the place, for the last month.” Their mom lowered her head, but her eyes were still on Sierra. “You should turn on your TV once in a while.”

“Ian Sterling.” Sierra breathed his name.

Beckham snorted. “No hip musician for you, my ass.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s different.”

“Um, yeah,” he said sarcastically. “Actually, you’re right, he is. I like him a lot. So come on. You’ll like his wife too. And you’d learn the material like that.” Beckham snapped his fingers. “I’ve got great singers, but it wouldn’t be like it is with you…”

The thought of having her with him made everything seem so much better.

“I’m gonna tell you two something and don’t you dare breathe a word of it to anyone. Not even yourself,” Beckham whispered.

“Oh gawd, you’ve always been so dramatic,” Sierra said.

“I’m retiring. This might be my last year—hell, I
want
it to be my last tour. I’m ready to be done. I’m almost at the end of my contract and I know they think I’m going to stay with the label, but I haven’t signed anything and I’m not going to. I want us to move somewhere very far from L.A. at the end of next year … Italy, perhaps?” He wiggled his eyebrows at his mother. “I’m walking away.” He picked up his fork and dug into the food, feeling better than he had in a long time. “I’d like you to be there with me, Sierra.”

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. They looked at him like he’d just bombed a country.

“Well, say something!”

They both started talking at once.

“That is the best news.”

“I’m so glad! It’s time. I mean, I know you love it, but we miss you.”

“You can focus on starting a family!”

“Even if you go back to it later, you need a break!”

And on and on it went.

Beckham laughed and put another pork chop on his plate. He intended to eat whatever he wanted for one more night. It wouldn’t be like this once he was rehearsing.

“Okay, I’ll come,” Sierra said quietly at first, and then louder, “I’ll do it!”

“Really? You will?”

She nodded.

“Yes! Thank you! This is great. You have about two weeks to learn the material backwards and forwards. And then vocal work will be going on at the same time as the dance rehearsals. We’ll combine you guys in a few weeks.”

“I know it pretty well already,” she said. “I’ll just need to break it to the office that I’m leaving.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I was ready for a change anyway.”

She took a sip of wine and stared into space, a smile faintly touching her lips. He groaned, hoping his entourage wouldn’t embarrass themselves too badly over Ian.

She stuck a tack through the forehead of every person involved.
Stick, prick, blood
. She grinned. If it were only that easy.

There were only a few backup singers. His sister was the only new one. She touched the hair on Sierra’s picture and repositioned the tack so it looked like a hair barrette instead of a colorful ball in her forehead. Better. The sister was safe.

Ian Sterling and his wife and daughter were surprises she hadn’t seen coming. She had them on the wall, but they didn’t really seem threatening. From what she could tell, they were so wrapped up in each other, they wouldn’t stand in her way of getting to Beckham.

The dancers. She ticked off their names. Memorization had always come easy for her. There were two who had toured with him before, so that left two less to worry about. She repositioned the tacks on Justin and Vanessa’s heads. Brad and Shelton, too. They were gay and wouldn’t get in her way. Without question, Beckham was damn straight.

That left the last two: Brooke and Roxie. She left their pins right where they were and studied the pictures intently. Brooke was the prettier of the two, with black hair and porcelain skin. But there was something appealing about Roxie. Almost magnetic. Her thick, waist-length blonde hair made you want to pull it and her eyes looked deep blue-green innocent. She also had an ass that would probably be insured by the time the tour was over. Brooke was beautiful, but Roxie was sexier … by far. She tried to look at them through Beckham’s eyes and see what he would see in both of them.

Roxie. She would have to watch that one.

She stepped back to look at her walls. The maps were ready. Each of Beckham’s tour stops were marked on a huge map that covered a wall. The other two walls she’d been adding to for years, clipping her favorite shots of Beckham Woods. Some she’d printed from the Internet, some she’d clipped from magazines, most of them she’d taken of him herself. Those were her favorites.

The final wall was anyone who might get in her way. She belonged with Beckham. There was no doubt that she would have him.