The Mighty Storm (69 page)

“
You have?”

Now I am surprised. I wouldn
’
t have thought she cared to.

“
Of course I have. Music is my job.”

Of course it is. So it
’
s not because it was me, but because of who I am.

“
But that
’
s not just why,” she adds. “I wanted to see how you were doing. And you
’
ve just achieved so much. I was really proud watching you on TV and reading the articles about your music, and when you set up your own label
–
I was like,
‘
Wow
’
… and I
’
ve got bought all your albums, of course and they
’
re really brilliant.”

What?

I don
’
t get her. One minute she
’
s acting like she couldn
’
t give a shit about seeing me. The next she
’
s tripping over her words, trying to give me the impression she does.

Easiest way to find out
–
ask her. I
’
ve always been in the mind-set that you should say what you think. What
’
s the point in sitting on shit trying to figure it out for yourself when the answer to your question is sitting right in front of you.

“
Why didn
’
t you get in touch with me, Tru?”

She stares at me for a long moment. I see what I think is confusion flicker over her face.

“
Um… you
’
re not exactly easy to get in touch with
–
Mr Famous Rock Star.”

I hear the hard edge clear in her voice.

Yep, she
’
s pissed that I cut contact with her. That I can work with.

Indifferent, no. But angry, yes.

And angry makes her so very fucking hot right now. Even hotter if that
’
s possible.

“
Yeah, that
’
s me
–
one of the most accessibly, inaccessible people on the planet,” I say staring at her.

I
’
m totally giving her edge, because right now all I want to do is piss her off further.

I want her to get her issue off her hot chest, so we can get to the good stuff. And also I can imagine an angry Tru, is a very hot Tru.

I keep my eyes on her, but she
’
s not saying anything. What the fuck! Why isn
’
t she kicking my ass right now?

The Tru I knew would have torn a strip off me.

Maybe she
’
s not the same girl she used to be.

She seemed the same, but maybe not.

I need a smoke. Fuck waiting.

I get them out of my pocket and perch one between my lips.
“
Do you smoke?” I ask.

“
No.”

“
Good.
”
Nothing worse than a woman who smokes if you ask me.
“
You mind if I do?” I don
’
t normally ask anyone ever. I wanna smoke, I smoke, but for her it just seems appropriate to ask.

“
No,” she says firmly.

So she does mind.

But I need a smoke so I
’
m taking advantage of her inbuilt politeness and am having one anyway.

Lighting up, I take a long drag, pulling back hard, enjoying the momentary relief the nicotine gives me.

I drop my smokes and lighter onto the table, and then I suddenly hear music.

Is that Adele? Where the fuck is that coming from? It better not be Stuart listening to his crap music again.

Tru scrabbles for her bag.

It
’
s coming from her cell. I
’
m surprised she
’
s got Adele as her ringtone. Doesn
’
t fit with the Tru I remember. But then a lot isn
’
t fitting with her right now.

“
Sorry,” she mumbles, pulling her cell out, silencing it. “It might be my boss.”

I watch her face as she quickly reads the text. A small smile forms on her lips.

Boyfriend, maybe? I fucking hope not. But look at her. No, she
’
ll have a boyfriend, there is no way she
’
ll be single looking like she does.

I bet he
’
s a
stuck up asshole
.

I
’
ll find out who he is from her, and get Stuart to do some digging on him later.

I need to know what my competition is.

Anyone else, I
’
d just be able to take without an ounce of work, but not her.

If there
’
s anything of the Tru I remember still in there, and I
’
m pretty sure there is, then I know for sure that I have my work cut out for me to get her to be mine.

“
Adele?” I grin, referring to her cell. I like to tease her. I always did.

“
I like her.” She sounds defensive.

“
Oh me too.” I nod, holding back the smile I can feel rising. “She
’
s a nice girl. I just figured from what I remember of you, I
’
d have been hearing the Stones playing on your cell.”

“
Yeah, well I
’
ve changed a lot since you knew me.”

I
’
ll take that as the dig it was meant as. Wow, she really is harbouring a grudge against me.

Which means she still cares. I
’
m so totally in the game.

I watch her with interest as she puts her cell away. Oh, she
’
s pulling her notebook out. She wants to start the interview.

We haven
’
t seen each other for twelve fucking years and she wants to interview me. It stings more than I expected.

“
So, I should get started with the interview
–
I
’
m sure you
’
re really busy and I don
’
t want to keep you for longer than necessary.”

I
’
m really in the mood to play now.

“
You
’
re not keeping me.” I take a long, drag of my cigarette. “And I
’
m not busy today. My schedule is clear.”

“
Oh. You haven
’
t got any other interviews after mine?” She looks surprised.

Stage one of getting her commences … now. Flattery.

“
Well I did have … consider them cancelled.”

“
No! Don
’
t do that on my account.” She practically squeals it at me.

Okay. So flattery isn
’
t going to swing it with her.

Fuck this is hard work already. Am I sure I
’
m cut out for this?

For her, Wethers, yes.

“
I don
’
t mean I
’
m not happy to see you,” she starts babbling. “Of course I am, and would love to talk old times with you, but I don
’
t want others to miss out on a great opportunity because of me.”

She
’
s nervous again. Good sign.

“
A great opportunity?” I give her another one of my panty dropping smiles.

She shrugs, looking abash. Her cheeks redden. “Oh, you know what I mean,” she says quietly.

Okay Wethers, now is the time for sensitive. Hit her with our history. Get her remembering the good old days. You
’
ve got thirty minutes to win her over before she walks out of that door, and you lose her again. Don
’
t fuck this up like you did the last time.

“
Look Tru.” I move toward her, putting all my focus on her.
Women love that
. “I haven
’
t seen you for twelve years. The last thing I want to do right now is talk business with you, or anyone else for that matter. I want to know all about you
–
what you
’
ve been doing since I last saw you.”

She shrugs and looks down. “Not much.”

“
I
’
m sure you
’
ve done a lot more than
‘
not much
’
,
”
I urge, with a little force. I need to get her talking. Come on Tru.

She looks up at me with those beautiful brown eyes. I see a flicker of hurt in them.

It makes me feel like shit to know I once hurt her so
bad
to the point that she still feels it even now.

“
What did I do after you left Manchester?” she shrugs. “I lived my life, I finished school.” She sounds bitter.

Fuck.

“
How was it?” I keep my eyes on hers. I
’
m not letting her go anywhere.

“
School? It was school. A little lonely after you left, but I got through it.”

“
You still see anyone from school?”

She tucks her hair behind her ear. I have the urge to do just the same.

“
No, I
’
m friends with a couple of people on Facebook but that
’
s about it. What about you?” she asks.

I laugh. Not fucking likely. The only person I ever wanted to keep in touch with was her, but I just couldn
’
t.

“
No,” I reply. “Then what did you do after school?”

“
Moved here to go to uni. I got my degree in journalism. Then I landed a job at Etiquette, the magazine I work for, and I
’
ve worked there ever since.”

“
Cool.” I take another drag of my cigarette.

Let
’
s move this on now.

I
’
m itching to know if she has a boyfriend or not. I know she
’
s not married, but I also don
’
t want her knowing I checked for that already.

Play it cool

“
You
’
re not married?” I let my eyes go to her left hand giving her the impression it
’
s the first time I
’
m checking for sign of a ring.

“
No,
”
she says.

“
Boyfriend?” I take one last drag on my smoke and stub it out.

There
’
s a long pause. I
’
m not sure if it
’
s a good or bad thing.

“
Yes,” she finally replies.

Bad thing.

Even though I figured she
’
d have one, it still drives a jealously nail through me I didn
’
t know existed.

Holding my calm, I ask,
“
Live together?”

“
No. I live with my flat mate Simone in Camden.”

She sounds a bit pissed that I
’
ve asked. I wonder why? Maybe she wants to live with him and he doesn
’
t.

What fucking idiot wouldn
’
t want to wake up to that beautiful face every single day?

One thing on my side is that it can
’
t be serious if they don
’
t live together. But then it also depends on how long they
’
ve been together.

“
How long have you been with the boyfriend?”

“
His name is Will, and we
’
ve been together for two years.”

Two years and not living together. Very good sign.

“
And what does Will do for a living?”

“
He
’
s an investment banker.”

Yep. He
’
s a prick.
“
Smart guy.”

“
He is. He
’
s very smart
–
top of his class at uni and he
’
s climbing the ladder at work very quickly.” She sounds defensive over him, and it pisses me off.

I grab my smokes and light another one up.

Tru unclips her pen from her notebook, and opens it up.
“
It
’
s been really nice catching up with you Jake, but I really should get to the interview - especially if I want to keep my job.”