I Knew You Were Trouble: A Jessie Jefferson Novel (21 page)

He does. Marginally. But after a while I get used to the speed and actually start to enjoy myself. We’re at the bottom of the hill in no time, and it isn’t long before we hit
traffic. At first, I don’t like it when he rides so close to the cars, but soon I see the benefits of being able to go straight to the front of queues waiting at traffic lights, and I also
realise after a while that he’s avoiding the busy roads when he can, cutting through backstreets where it’s safer. By the time we pull up outside the white picket-fence entrance of The
Ivy, I don’t want the ride to stop.

He climbs off the bike and hands the keys to a waiting valet before helping me off. Then he removes his helmet and rakes his hands through his dark-blond hair to mess it up a bit.

‘That was awesome!’ I say, as he takes off my helmet and grins down at me.

A moment later I hear the clicking.

Oh, no… Paparazzi. Lots of them.

‘It’s cool,’ he says quietly, touching my shoulder to steady me. ‘Alright, lads,’ he says to the people with cameras who are darting around in front of us. To my
surprise, Johnny wraps one arm round my shoulder and pauses for a moment, facing them. ‘Want to get a couple of me with my daughter and then leave us in peace?’

They shout their affirmation and then Johnny leans down and whispers in my ear: ‘Smile.’

It’s over very quickly. A moment later his arm is guiding me up the front steps of the restaurant and the maître d’ is welcoming us with menus. The outside of the restaurant
looks lovely, dotted with fairy lights and greenery, but we’re led to a table inside and I’m thankful for the privacy.

‘OK?’ he asks once we’re alone and seated opposite each other, bread and water already on the table.

‘That was mental,’ I say under my breath.

‘Which part?’ He looks amused.

‘All of it.’

‘Sorry about the paps,’ he says. ‘I should’ve warned you they’d be here. They always hang around outside this place.’

I’m confused. ‘You seemed happy to pose for them.’

He shrugs and reaches for a bottle of water on the table, pouring us both a glass. ‘I figure the sooner they get used to seeing you around, the sooner they’ll lay off you.
We’ve gotta face them sometime, right?’

‘Oh. Yes, I suppose.’

He glances down at his menu. ‘What do you feel like? I come here for the pizzas, but everything’s good.’

I try to focus on the words swimming in front of me. I’m having one of those surreal, Oh-my-God-I-am-Johnny-Jefferson’s-daughter moments.

‘I’ll go for a pizza, too,’ I decide, putting the menu back down.

‘This is one of my favourite restaurants in LA,’ he tells me. ‘I still remember the first time I brought Meg here.’

He smiles, and swirls the water around in his glass before taking a gulp.

‘Was it your first date?’ I ask, encouraging him to open up to me.

‘No!’ He shakes his head, grinning cheekily as he places the glass back on the table. ‘No, that was when she was working for me as my PA. I had a girlfriend at the
time.’

‘
Really?
’ I’m a little bit outraged.

‘It was totally innocent!’ he exclaims, leaning back in his chair. ‘I dragged her here to keep me company, that was all.’

He stares past me, lost in his thoughts for a moment.

‘I bet you fancied her, though.’

‘It was hard not to,’ he admits flippantly. Suddenly he’s leaning forward again, his elbows resting on the table. ‘So what about you? How are things with Jack
Mitchell?’

‘Can we order?’ I ask, but the blush is already warming my face and he laughs. I roll my eyes. ‘I have a boyfriend,’ I point out.

‘I thought we’d just established that you can still have the hots for someone when you’re with someone else.’ I know he’s only teasing me, but I want to throw some
bread at him in any case.

‘I’m not talking to you about Jack. Anyway, the only reason I’ve seen him since I arrived has been because of his sister. I like Agnes a lot.’

He nods, seeming to approve. ‘I’ll have to meet her. When are you catching up next?’

‘I don’t know. Tomorrow, maybe.’

‘Why don’t you ask her over for lunch?’

‘OK, I’ll text her when we get home.’ I wonder when Comic Book Girl is auditioning. Maybe she already has. ‘Jack’s auditioning for a new lead singer of All
Hype,’ I tell Johnny, trying to sound upbeat.

‘Did the other girl quit?’

‘Yeah.’ I don’t want to tell him why. Thankfully, he doesn’t ask.

‘That’s a big loss,’ he says. ‘She was good.’

‘I know.’ As a singer, Eve was amazing. As a person, I was less keen. But that might have had something to do with the fact that she rubbed her on-off relationship with Jack in my
face. I didn’t even know they had a thing going… I suppose I can’t blame her.

Johnny jolts me out of my thoughts. ‘Not tempted, are you?’

‘What?’

‘To audition,’ he says casually. ‘I mean, I can’t say that I want you hanging out with Jack Mitchell, but I dig his band. Might be good for you to have something to take
your mind off stuff.’

‘Are you joking?’

‘Why would I be? Your voice is incredible.’

His unexpected compliment makes my heart swell, but I return to earth with a bump.

‘I don’t know how long I’ll be here. And anyway I don’t sing in public, remember? Not unless I’m very, very drunk.’

‘Oi,’ he berates me. ‘Not on my watch. Besides, that attitude is never going to get you anywhere.’

The waitress comes over then, full of smiles and tucking her hair behind her ears. Johnny is polite, but doesn’t encourage her blatant flirtation.

‘I’ll have the same,’ I say after he’s ordered, my head still spinning at his words. ‘And a Coke, please.’

‘Make that two Cokes,’ he adds.

‘Double trouble,’ she comments with a grin.

I smirk at him once she’s gone. ‘How does Meg cope with all the attention you get?’

‘What?
Her?
’ he asks with a frown.

‘Yes!’

‘She was more interested in you than she was me.’

‘Me?’

‘“Double trouble.” You’re going to get that a lot, you realise. You and I look crazily alike.’

My insides feel warm at the reminder – especially as it’s come from him.

‘You’ve been in your studio a lot lately,’ I say, trying to make conversation. ‘What are you working on at the moment?’

‘I’ll show you tomorrow, if you like.’

‘That’d be great.’

‘Actually, I could do with your help on some of the harmonies.’

I narrow my eyes at him.

‘I mean it,’ he stresses. ‘If you don’t mind,’ he adds.

‘Of course not,’ I hurriedly reply. I’d help with anything he asked.

Does he really think I have an incredible voice? I’m not going to be able think about much else tonight.

It occurs to me later, when I’m tucked up in bed, that maybe Johnny only asked for my help to “take my mind off things”, as he put it. But I realise that I
don’t even care. It’s the thought that counts. And the fact that my dad cares about me.

I fall asleep that night with a smile on my face, dreaming of the sparkling lights of LA that I saw from the back of his bike on Mulholland Drive on the way home. For the first time that week, I
don’t have any nightmares.

I’m sitting on a stool in Johnny’s recording studio. He’s beside me, a guitar in his hands, hooked up to an amp.

I’m a little nervous – the studio door is wide open – but Meg is downstairs with the kids and I’m hoping they won’t pay us any attention. I think Johnny has left
the door open on purpose. He wants to get me over my phobia of singing in front of other people.

He starts strumming his guitar and nods at the notepad I’m holding. I’ve been reading his lyrics and now I’m about to hear them to music.

When he sings, the voice I’ve heard on countless radio stations over the years fills the room, reverberating through my entire body. He sounds so familiar, yet it could not feel stranger
to be sitting right next to him.

‘That’s where you’d come in,’ he says, still strumming. He continues to sing, nodding as if to say, ‘Now.’

I’m pretty sure he doesn’t expect me to sing this time – I need to listen to the whole track first – but in my head I’m already working out the harmony. He strums
the last note.

‘What do you think?’ he asks, lowering his guitar.

‘I love it,’ I say. Surely he knows how good it is.

‘I wrote it last week. You’re the first person to hear it.’

Oh, wow!

‘Let’s go again,’ he says, shifting his guitar back into place. ‘You going to come in this time?’

‘Um. Yeah, sure,’ I say uncertainly. ‘Can I shut the door?’

‘No,’ he replies with a grin. ‘You have a great voice. You need to start believing it.’

I start off quietly, feeling slightly mortified at the sound of ‘me’ coming through the amps. But he nods encouragingly.

‘Louder!’ he yells.

I ramp up the volume and he smiles.

‘Better.’

It takes me a while, but I begin to get into it. I don’t know how much time passes, but, when Meg appears at the doorway with Phee balanced on her hip and Barney running in behind her, I
falter.

‘Don’t stop!’ Johnny warns.

Meg’s eyes are wide open, her mouth gaping slightly as she nods with encouragement. I glance at Johnny to see him grinning. He cocks his head towards me as if to say,
‘See?’

I kind of wish I could climb out of the window and disappear, but I force myself to keep singing, as much as it’s killing me.

‘That was incredible!’ Meg gasps, as soon as we’ve finished the song. ‘I had no idea you could sing like that!’

‘I’ve sung in front of you before,’ I say, trying to shrug it off. But my insides are burning with pride.

‘
Thomas the Tank Engine
doesn’t count,’ she replies firmly.

I once joined in when Johnny sang it to the boys.

‘I told you,’ Johnny says with a grin. I glance at him, but he’s talking to Meg. He told her about me?

‘You did,’ she says. ‘But whoa. That was nuts.’

‘Shall we do another one?’ Johnny asks me.

Without an audience?

He must see the look on my face because he says to Meg, ‘Give us a bit of time to practise.’

‘Yes! Of course. Come on, Bee.’

Barney, at this point, has his face squashed up against the studio window. ‘No!’ he exclaims.

‘Let’s go,’ Meg says, holding her hand out to him and waggling it about.

‘I want to hear Daddy and Jessie!’ he cries.

‘Later,’ Meg says, but now I feel bad.

‘He can stay,’ I blurt.

‘Are you sure?’ she asks.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Hop onto the seat, buddy,’ Johnny calls to him as Meg leaves the room. Phoenix starts to wail at being taken away.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Johnny brushes me off. ‘Let’s try something else.’

He reaches across and plucks his notepad from my grasp, flicking back a few pages until he settles on something. He passes it back over and starts to play.

I look down at his lyrics. I’m just about getting used to his messy handwriting, but that in itself is astonishing. These lyrics are so raw – just scribbles really – but he
trusts me with them. It’s one of the best compliments he could pay me.

With my stomach bubbling away with happiness, I look at my dad and smile.

Barney lasts for a whole twenty minutes before he happily runs out of the room to find Meg. By then, we’re well into our third song.

‘That sounds awesome!’ Johnny exclaims, pounding at the strings of his guitar. It’s a much more upbeat number. ‘I might have to get you to lay these down.’

Lay them down?

‘Nick has to hear them.’

‘Who’s Nick?’ I ask.

‘From my label.’

What?

‘Let’s try the chorus again,’ he says.

I feel a bit dizzy.

‘Louder!’ he shouts over the music.

I nod and do as he asks. He grins and God, I love this feeling. I’m impressing my dad!

I look around the studio – not needing to focus on the words on the pad any more. I could feel at home here, I realise. I
do
feel at home here. Could I really do this? Could I be a
singer like my dad?

Barney returns to the room, but the smile freezes on my face and my voice falters because he’s not alone. Jack is with him. And he’s staring at me with disbelief.

‘Oh my God!’ Agnes exclaims, shoving past her brother.

‘What are you doing here?’ I demand, getting to my feet. Johnny strums a final note and places his guitar at his feet. I notice the look of amusement on his face.

‘You invited me over for lunch,’ Agnes replies, barely refraining from adding, ‘duh’. ‘Your little bro told us to come inside. He said you were singing, but I had
no idea.’

‘Sorry!’ Meg calls from the doorway, looking apologetically at me. She obviously didn’t mean for them to interrupt, but I’m guessing Barney was a force to be reckoned
with.

‘No worries,’ Johnny says, pushing the glass studio door open. I follow him out, a blush staining my cheeks. ‘Agnes, right?’ Johnny shakes her hand.

‘Hello again!’

‘Have we met?’ he asks, perplexed.

‘When I was much younger,’ she explains. ‘My dad took me to one of your concerts. We came backstage.’

‘Oh, right,’ he says with a grin. ‘Haven’t seen Billy since… Well, not since your gig,’ he says to Jack, his smile diminishing slightly as he reaches out to
shake his hand. I glance at Jack to see him looking awkward. The last time he saw Johnny, Johnny was staring him down because he’d just pissed me off. What’s he doing here?

‘Shall we take this downstairs?’ Meg suggests. ‘Eddie’s doing a barbeque on the terrace.’

‘Sweet!’ Agnes says.

‘Are you staying for lunch, Jack?’ Meg asks him.

‘No—’

‘He was just giving me a lift,’ Agnes interrupts.

‘You’re very welcome to,’ Meg offers, glancing at me for approval.

‘Thanks, but I’ve got plans,’ he replies. He nods at Agnes. ‘Call me when you need a ride.’

‘I’ll see you out,’ I say.

‘It’s cool, I can find the front door,’ he replies, barely looking at me as we walk back downstairs. ‘Nice to see you,’ he calls to Johnny and Meg at the bottom of
the stairs.