The Problem With Heartache (26 page)

Carly pulled back and we walked to the car. I opened the car door and she slid in the front seat and placed her feet up on the dash, looking across at me expectantly. “So, where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” I revved the engine and sped off down the street, a smile twisting my lips.

“Is it … a trip to maybe a sound studio, where you guys are gonna record?” Her voice was a combination of mirth and excitement. I chuckled.

“No.”

Silence.

“Is it … a one-on-one with some Hollywood starlet who’s gonna give me the money to start my own fashion design business?”

“Is that what you want to do?” I chanced a glance at her before passing through an intersection. She winked at me, and warmth flooded my heart. Was there anything she did that didn’t make me fall?

“I think so. I’ve always loved clothes. One day, I want to make amazing dresses for theatre performers. You know, ridiculous things … like ball gowns.”

I reached my hand across the centre console to the gear stick, my eyes glued on the road at all times. The turn-off to the track was always hard to spot. “I think your ambition is amazing.”

“You do?” Carly voiced, so soft it was like a feather.

“I do. And I have no doubt you’ll get there.” And I didn’t, and not just because she had fashioned my dreams for the past month. It was because she was determined, this ball of energy and willpower, and I knew she’d get what she wanted, what she deserved, whatever the cost. That day at the park told me that. I admired that about her.

I wished I had more of that certainty in me.

My hands wrenched the wheel to the left and I made a sharp turn, sending the car careening as we entered the dirt track.

“Where are you taking me?” Carly laughed.

“It’s a secret.”

We traversed through the countryside on an orange track that was only wide enough for one car to fit through at a time. I hated to think what would happen if we met another vehicle; then again, I’d never seen anyone else up here, so I didn’t really think it was a concern.

Finally, I pulled the car up at the start of a fire trail and killed the motor. Carly unclicked her seatbelt and I did mine, reaching into the back to grab a wicker basket.

“A picnic?” She clapped her hands together, and I beamed like I was Miley Cyrus in her good, wholesome days.

“That’s it.” I waggled the basket. “But first, we walk.”

I locked the car and we started down the trail, Carly glancing from side to side with a look of slight trepidation on her face. Thick tree trunks with gnarled growths attached sprouted from the ground, the canopy a mixture of soft greens and murky khaki. Birds called to each other and contrasted the crunching of leaves at our feet.

Finally we reached the rocky outcrop I knew was there, and I placed the basket down and walked to the very edge of the rock that overlooked a cliff face, from where we had the best view of the national park. It stretched out for miles before us, a sea of green and brown interspersed with the flittering of wildlife and the rushing of water.

“It’s … beautiful,” she breathed. “Although, you know I would have been just as happy to go to one of your shows.”

“You really like seeing us play?” I studied her, a smile playing on my lips.

Carly shoved against my chest, and hoped to hell she liked what she’d touched. “Of course I do, Lee. You guys are amazing.”

“Thanks.” I shrugged. “It still feels weird, this whole music thing being my job now, you know?”

“I bet.”

Birds called in the distance, filling the comfortable silence that stretched between us. I stole another glance at her. Her green eyes glinted in the sun, her blonde hair floating in the breeze, the spaghetti straps of her tank not hiding the purple lace of her bra.

“So, are we eating on this picnic?” Carly asked, excitement on her face.

“Shit yeah!” I raced to the basket and opened it, bringing out the blanket and spreading it over the ground just before the rock. What a dickhead. I’d been so caught up in her looks, I hadn’t realised she’d been starving.

Seconds later I had it all spread out; four different cheeses, some quince paste, strawberries, prosciutto, oysters and champagne, plus a fine white and a fine red wine. I wasn’t taking any chances, here; I needed her to find something she liked.

“Lee …” Her eyes misted over, and for a shit-awful second I thought she was gonna cry, but she blinked back the moment and a huge grin took over her face. “This is amazing.”

She gracefully folded to the blanket and took a strawberry, making love to the luscious red fruit in her mouth. Or, maybe she just ate it like a normal person. I was too busy fantasising about her lips to tell.

I poured us both a glass of wine after asking which she was after. She clasped her hand around the stem of red, but I didn’t release it. Instead, I held tight. “Carly … it means a lot to me that you could come here this afternoon. I just … I feel something with you, you know? Something I don’t feel with everyone else.”

Her eyes softened and she reached up her hand, caressing the side of my face. Her hand was ice against my skin.

She propped up her elbows and rested her weight against them, settled down on the blanket, then took a sip at her wine, staring at the view in front of us. I laid by her side, staring at her.

“Lee?” she asked, and I hummed my acknowledgment. “Do you believe in good and evil?”

I paused, licked my lips. “In what sense?”

“Can a person be truly good? Truly bad?”

“Yes.” I nodded once, studying her worried face. “I think people can be truly good or bad.”

“But what if they try hard to fight it?” She twisted to face me, and her top flared open, exposing her cleavage.

“I think that’s almost worse.” I focused on those green-grey orbs, even though every cell in my body wanted me to focus on her rack. “Because if you try to fight it, you know it’s bad. You know what you’re doing is wrong. It’s the failure that makes you worst of all.”

Silence flattened the space between us, heavy as a lead weight. I needed to change the mood. This was getting us nowhere fast. “Let’s play a game.”

“A game?” Carly tilted her head to the side. “What kind of a game?”

“Like how we did when we first met. Things people don’t know about us.”

“Oh.” Carly gave a light laugh. Her phone buzzed with a text, but she ignored it.

“You need to get that?” I asked.

“It’s fine.” She shook her head, dismissing the thought.

“So instead of things people don’t know about us, I thought we’d play things we do know about each other.” I stared at her, deep in her eyes.

“But we’ve only hung out a few times.” Carly shifted her weight over to one side, and while there was mirth in her eyes, there was a guarded expression hiding behind it. She needed to relax. And I knew just how to make her do it.

“I’ll start.” I offered, holding my glass up as if in a toast. “I know that Carly Watts is possibly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Carly’s cheeks flushed red and she giggled, but she took a sip of her wine, and at least it had broken that dreaded tension that blanketed us moments earlier.

“I know that Lee Collins likes saving damsels in distress, even if he’s not sure what they’re doing up the damn tree.” She giggled and we chinked glasses before taking another sip.

“I know that Carly Watts has the sweetest, kindest soul out of anyone I’ve ever met.” I breathed the words as if they were fairy floss, light and intricately spun together. “I know she’s going to do anything and everything she wants, whether it’s working in the bar for the rest of her life or becoming a fashion designer to the stars.”
Second deep breath time.
“And even though this is scary as shit, and she’s not going to want to hear it, I know that I’m falling for her. I know that she is the first thing I think of when I wake up and the face I see when I’m singing love songs on stage.” I swallowed, not daring to look in her direction. “I know that she’s quickly becoming everything.”

And then my everything careened into hell.

Present day …

“W
ELL, CAN
you get it, or not?” I stared at Hamish, one of our sound guys. He wore torn jeans, his shirt black, and he had a ring through his ear the size of a hula-hoop. Or, it had to be close.

“Yeah man, yeah. I’ve got it in your guitar case right now.” He nodded, handing me the case, as if he were recounting where I’d pick up my fucking groceries instead of the logistics of my bribery deal.

See, I’d known our manager would be suspicious if ten grand suddenly disappeared out of the band account, and he might even ask Tony where the cash had gone. So I’d deposited the money into Hamish’s account, plus a little extra, and asked for him to take the dollars out for me, telling Tony and company that I was buying a new guitar from him.

Fuck, it was confusing being a muso some days.

I thanked him and he disappeared into the busy Vegas streets, off to do whatever it was our crew did when we weren’t working. I shook my head. Days like today, I wished I were them.

Three interviewers came, three interviewers went, and before too long the clock ticked over to 3:55 p.m., and I made some lame excuse about needing to step out and do something, and ran downstairs.

As soon as I entered the lobby I saw Lottie and Kate, sitting and talking to each other. Lottie had her arms around Kate, and I bit my lip.
What are they talking about?

They both knew too many of my secrets.

I ducked back behind a pillar and scanned the room again, on the lookout for anyone who could be
my guy
.

To my surprise, it was not as I’d expected. I guess I’d been looking for someone who looked like an addict, someone who wasn’t particularly well off: someone scrawny, tired and a mess, as if they were about to fall apart. Instead, the guy who jerked his head toward the men’s restroom was dressed in a suit, and if Brad Pitt had a double for his red carpet appearances, this guy could sure as shit give that job a go.

I followed him down the corridor and into the restroom, where he checked every stall before moving the courtesy chair—you know, for all those times when you feel like sitting and watching someone else piss in the trough—under the door handle.

“It’s the only place they’re not legally allowed to film you.” Brad shrugged when I looked questionably at the door. “But it doesn’t stop a lot of the paps.”

Somehow I had stumbled across a swindler to the stars. Oh, lucky me.

I shook my head. “The lobby in a major hotel? You thought this would be a nice discreet location?”

Brad looked at me, his lips pursed in a clear ‘screw you’ gesture. “Shit, I guess next time I’ll try choose somewhere a little more to your liking. You’d rather your hotel room?”

Brad reached into his leather briefcase and pulled out a thin yellow envelope. I took it and peered inside, where a USB and a large photo of Kate and I stared back up at me. There was even a shot of us from that day at the water park, obviously taken with a long-range camera. It was like something from a bad movie.

“You got a kid with her?” Brad pointed to Jay, and my blood boiled.

“Leave him out of it!” I hissed, balling my fists and scrunching the edges of the photos. Brad gave a low whistle. I could all but hear him saying I was protesting too much. Shit. I couldn’t just go out with Jay in public. Lottie was gonna murder me.

“Here’s your cash.” I handed it over.

Brad pocketed the large wad of bills, shoving them deep in his trouser pants. “It’s all there?” He raised his brow.

I felt like telling him to count it himself, but instead just smiled. “To the dollar.”

“Good.” He moved the chair back from the door and placed his hand on the handle, ready to turn. “Just so you know?”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Maybe you should tip me. Who knows how watertight your info will be otherwise?” Brad winked at me as he removed the chair.

“We had a deal,” I gritted out, more loudly than I should have.

Brad gave a shrug. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me …”

As the door swung shut behind him, I heard him mumble. “Pop stars and their slutty groupies …”

I open reached over and opened the door, speaking into the corridor. “What did you just say?”

“That your situation sucks, but the girl was clearly a fucking slut. And what a damn shame about your secret love child.”

Anger welled up inside me. My body worked on autopilot, my brain rushing to catch up. I dropped the photos and bolted out the door.

“Fuck off!”

Next thing I knew, Brad was lying on the floor in front of me, out cold.

Fuck.