WMIS 04 Rock With Me (22 page)

“Sleep,” he whispers to me and kisses my hair. “I’ll wake you when we get there.”

I try to sleep, but I just can’t seem to shut my brain down. I’m too nervous to see
Leo’s house, about today’s interview, about the possibility of being recognized with
him.

Yeah, that’s the part that makes me the most nervous. It’s been a long time since
I saw my photo in a magazine, and I’d rather not start now. Not to mention, I turn
into a raging bitch when I’m nervous.

Not good.

“What are you thinking?” He asks softly. My eyes find his in surprise and he smiles
softly. “I know you’re not sleeping.”

“Just thinking about the interview.” It’s only a half-lie.

“You’ll do great.” His voice is flat.

“What’s wrong?” I ask with a frown.

“I just know you don’t want to move down here.” He shrugs.

“I’m not going over this again.” I roll my eyes and lean my cheek against his chest
again.

“You’ll do great,” he repeats. “Here we are.”

The limo pulls through a gate and parks before a large, modern, white home. There
are shrubs lining the driveway, and flower gardens here and there. “You must have
a gardener.”

“I do.” He smiles and offers me his hand to help me out of the car. The driver pulls
our bags out of the trunk and sets them on the front steps.

“We’re good from here, thanks.” Leo nods at him.

“Very good, sir.” The driver tips his hat and drives away.

“Welcome.” Leo grins and kisses me softly, unlocks the door and motions for me to
go in ahead of him.

I feel like I’ve walked into the twilight zone.

I’m completely confused.

I hate it.

“This is… nice.” I mutter, my eyes trying to take everything in. It’s ultra modern.
There is a white baby grand piano resting over a polar bear rug in one corner of the
room. The three-piece furniture arrangement around a gas fireplace is also stark white.
There are splashes of red and black pillows, throws and end tables scattered about.

The floors are cold marble.

The living area opens up to the state of the art kitchen and a small eating space.
The cabinets are black, but again, the countertops are white marble. All of the appliances
are stainless steel.

There is a spiral staircase that leads up to the second floor.

My eyes immediately find a gorgeous porch off the kitchen with an outdoor kitchen,
fireplace, and steps down to an infinity pool.

“Let’s take our bags upstairs,” Leo murmurs and leads me to the stairs.

The upstairs is more of the same. Everything is crisply white with weird, modern art
on the walls. We pass doors that I assume are to offices or spare bedrooms, and he
leads me to a large, sparsely furnished master bedroom. The bed is the size of Alabama,
soft and all the linens are white. There are black throw rugs covering the marble
floor.

“Bathroom is through there.” He motions to the door to the left. “You can hang your
things in the closet there, and the balcony is there.”

The balcony is the best thing I’ve seen so far. I wander over, open the glass door
and step out onto the covered space. There are two oversized rocking chairs, and the
view is breathtaking.

The ocean is bright blue, reflecting the sun. There is a slight breeze.

I would spend every minute of every day out here if I could.

“You haven’t said a word,” Leo says from behind me. I turn around and lean against
the railing, watching him. His hair moves with the breeze. His tattooed hands are
tucked in the pockets on his ass, pulling his red tee tightly over his hard chest.
 
“What are you thinking?”

“I would spend every day out on this balcony.”

He chuckles and nods. “I usually do when I’m here.”

“How often are you here?”

He frowns. “Not often. Maybe about two days every two to three months.”

“So, you spend roughly one to two weeks here each year?” I ask, surprised.

“Lately, yeah.”

“Damn, no wonder you needed a break.” I cross my arms over my chest.
When will he leave again?

He tilts his head to the side, watching me closely. “What was that thought you just
had?”

“Just thinking about your busy schedule,” I respond.

“That’s the second time you’ve lied to me today,” he murmurs softly, his eyes hard.

“It’s not a lie.”

He moves toward me and brushes my lower lip with his thumb. “Talk to me.”

“You’re busy,” I state simply.

His eyes narrow, watching me, and then he sighs. “I’ve slowed down.”

“For now.” I shrug. “Did you decorate this place?” I ask before he can drill me further
on the subject.

“No.” He laughs. “This is pretty much what it looked like when I moved in.”

“It’s not you,” I tell him honestly. “It’s cold and impersonal.”

“What am I?” He asks and moves a little closer.

“You’re not this ultra modern, sterile place.”

“Maybe I should have it redecorated?” He asks with a grin.

“Maybe.” I shrug.

I don’t like it that he lives here.
That’s what it boils down to. I hate it that he owns a house in L.A. and not in Seattle.
This isn’t where he belongs.

“Okay, your brain is moving past the speed of light, and as much as I’d love to torture
you until you talk to me, we need to get you to Burbank.” He leans in to kiss me softly,
tenderly, and I’m shocked to feel tears trying to form in my eyes. “We’ll talk later.”

“I’m fine.”

“We’ll talk later.”

***

“Thanks for coming all this way for this interview, Ms. Williams.” Mr. Foss smiles
and shakes my hand. He’s shown me around the offices, introduced me to a few people,
and now we’re settled in his office, ready to get down to business.

“Thanks for having me.” I smile brightly.

“Your resume is certainly impressive, and there are about three other people who will
join us shortly to proceed through the interview. But before they do, I have a couple
of questions.”

“Of course.”

“I called your former employer at
Seattle Magazine.
”

Fuck.

“Yes?”

“I’ve known Bob for quite some time. As you know, the world of journalism is a small
one.” He smiles kindly, but I feel my stomach clench.

“That it is.” I nod.
Get to the point.

“Bob wasn’t terribly complimentary.” He begins and I feel my cheeks heat. That sonofabitch!
“But I know, being in the business we are, that there are always two sides to a story.”
He raises an eyebrow.

“Mr. Foss.” I begin and clear my throat. “I love what I do. I think you’ll see from
my resume and other references that I’m dedicated and that I’m good at my job. But
I’m fiercely loyal to my family, and I would hope that any employer who takes me on
would respect that.”

He watches me for a moment, leaned back in his chair, his fingers laced over his round
belly. Finally, he purses his lips and nods. “Fair enough.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Why am I going to this again?” I ask Leo as he drives up the freeway the next morning.

“Why not?” He asks.

“I could have just stayed at your place and sent out resumes until you got home.”

“That’s boring.” He grins over at me. “Besides, I thought I’d take you over to the
pier in Santa Monica on the way back home.”

“Sight seeing?” I ask with a grin.

“Sure.” He shrugs. “I’ll take you on the Ferris wheel.”

“I’m afraid of heights.”

“I’ll keep you safe.” He kisses my hand and pulls into a parking lot.

“We’re at Arista records.” I tilt my head back and stare at the tall building.

“Oh good, ‘cause that’s where I wanted to go.” He laughs at me as he climbs out of
the car.

“You’re a smart ass.” I smack his arm and then laugh when he swings me back into a
deep dip and kisses me silly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his eyes happy.

“You’re forgiven,” I whisper back.

“You’re easy.” He laughs and hugs me to him as we enter the building and he leads
me to the bank of elevators.

“What are we doing here?” I ask.

“The other guys are already here.”

“Nash is here? Why?”

“We’re doing an interview and some photos for a spread in
People
for when the next album releases. It’s not for a few months, but this way we don’t
have to do it later.”

“Okay, so again, why am I here?”

“I thought it would be fun.” He frowns down at me. “Are you seriously uncomfortable
with this?”

“I don’t know.”

“We won’t be long.” He kisses my forehead as the doors open to a lobby that wraps
around to a photo studio already set up with lights and a white backdrop.

“Hey, man.” A shorter guy with a tall Mohawk grips Leo in a hug. “How you been?”

“Good, man. Hey, this is Sam.” Leo turns to me with a grin. “Sam, this is DJ, our
bassist. You’ve met Eric and Jake. That over there is Gary.”

Everyone smiles and waves.

“Good to see you again.” Eric smiles, his voice friendly and void of the flirtation
from before.

“Were you testing me when I met you back in Seattle?” I ask him and plant my hands
on my hips.

“You passed.” He shrugs and grins widely. Jesus, no wonder the women throw their underwear
at him.

“You’re too cute for your own good.” I offer him a mock glare. “Don’t flirt with me
or I’ll have to hurt you.”

“I like her.” Gary calls out from where he’s sitting in a director’s chair having
his makeup done.

“Gee, you look pretty.” Leo taunts him.

“Shut up.”

“Mr. Nash, if you’ll sit here, we’ll get you ready. Everyone else is good to go.”

“You are not touching me with makeup,” Leo growls and I slap my hand over my mouth
before I laugh out loud.

“But, the lights…” The pour gay-as-can-be makeup artist stops talking when Leo raises
his hand at him.

“It’s called Photoshop.”

“You’re an ass.” Jake smirks and scrolls through his phone.

“But I’m makeup-free,” Leo agrees. “Where’s Lori?” He asks Gary.

“Right here!” We all turn as a very pregnant, very tall brunette woman glides into
the room.

Good God, she’s gorgeous.

“Hey, pretty face.” Leo grins and hugs Lori gently, lays his hand on her belly and
kisses her cheek.

I might have to kill her.

“How are you feeling?” He asks her.

“Fat, tired and pregnant.” She laughs. “But Gary’s taking care of me.”

“Get your hands off my wife, asshole.” Gary calls out, his eyes closed. This must
be usual behavior.

“I want you to meet someone.” Leo backs away and gestures toward me. “This is Sam.”

Lori’s mouth drops in surprise and her wide eyes meet Leo’s. “You’re introducing me
to a woman?”

“Shut up,” he mutters and laughs.

“Holy shit. Hi.” She moves as quickly as she can toward me and instead of shaking
my hand, she pulls me into a tight hug. “It’s so great to meet you.”

“Hi.” I smile and pull out of her embrace. “Shouldn’t I know you from somewhere?”

“Oh.” She waves me off and rubs her belly. “I used to do some modeling back in the
day, but these days I’m a stay at home mom.”

And then it hits me. “You’re Lori Fitzgerald!”

“Yeah.” She smiles shyly.

“’Some modeling, huh?” I ask with my tongue in my cheek. “That’s like saying I do
‘some breathing’.”

Lori laughs. “Well, I guess that’s true.”

“Hey, guys.” Another woman enters the room, consulting an iPad gripped in her arm,
not looking up. She’s clearly used to being around famous people.

Thank God.

“I’m glad you’re all here.” She scowls at Leo, but he just stares her down, unflinching.

Leo Nash doesn’t apologize for being late.

A photographer joins her and begins snapping photos of the guys where they are, getting
ready for the shoot, talking to each other.

Me, standing next to Leo and Lori.

“Why is that man taking my picture?” I ask, my bitch voice on full-throttle.

“He’s taking candids for the spread.” The woman answers me. “I’m Melissa, the publicist
for Nash.”

She eyes me for a moment, and then her blue eyes go wide. “Oh my God, you’re Luke
Williams’ sister!”