Kiss Me Goodnight (17 page)

John was in good spirits when he answered the door the next morning. He hugged me for an extra long time, reassuring me with his physical presence. He felt solid and strong, the same way he always has, and I found that comforting.

“Genevieve made some kind of slaw with carrots and parsnips. It’s good, but it’s not carrot cake. I think that’s going to be the hardest part—giving up your mother’s treats.”

I kept my arm around his waist as we walked to the kitchen. “I don’t think you have to give them up. I think you just need smaller portions and maybe cut back to once a week.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I like the way you think. If we work together, we can convince your mother to come over to our side.”

If my mother had drawn a hard line in the sand, I wasn’t about to cross it. She rarely took a firm stand, but when she did, woe to anyone who didn’t bow to her edict. So, I did what any sensible person would do: abandoned ship. “Sorry, John. If Mom says no, you know what that means.”

He snorted. “You’ve always been such a good girl.”

“Yes, she has.” My mom set a dish towel on the counter and hugged me tighter than John had. I felt the fear she was trying to hide. New lines had sprouted around her mouth, and dark circles had taken up residence under her eyes.

“Mom, you have to promise you’ll call me immediately if anything happens again, no matter how small.”

She gave a tiny nod, the only outward indication that she knew she was in over her head. Then she patted my shoulder dismissively. “Lacey, hon, help John set the table.”

Ten minutes later, I had revised my view of healthy food. With my mother cooking, dishes that should be disgusting were actually tasty. I would never have thought eggplant steaks could be good, yet I asked for seconds.

John tried to steer the conversation away from his health. He succeeded by asking about my weekend. Like Luma, after I told him where I’d been and with whom, he asked the golden question: “Are you lying?”

I was ready for this one. I shook my head and showed him my ticket stub. Where Luma needed convincing, my mom started crying. I think some of it was the stress of her weekend.

“Honey, this is so wonderful. You’ve come so far. I’m so proud of you.” She got up and snagged a tissue from the next room. “Though I’m not sure how I feel about you dating someone who flies you to another state for the night.”

I assured her Thomas had good intentions. “He’s a great guy, Mom. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere with him. And he’s nice. I think you’ll like him.”

My mom sat back down at the table. “Well, then, I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

John, sitting next to her, held her hand in his. “I’m sorry things haven’t worked out with Dylan. I know you liked him, but five months without a lie? That’s amazing. You’ve never gone more than a week before. This is a breakthrough. How does it feel?”

It felt wonderful. Truly wonderful. Except now I had to come clean about the white lie I’d told. I cleared my throat. “I did tell one lie this weekend. I told the people at The Fillmore I was the manager of Dylan’s band so I could negotiate with them. I told Dylan, and he wasn’t upset, but he also doesn’t know I lie. Thomas does, though.”

John studied me carefully, and I knew he’d shifted to view me through his therapist’s lens. I didn’t mind, because he’d actually been my therapist. I trusted him implicitly.

“Lacey, the fact that you’re telling white lies is progress. You never went in for the little things. I’m not saying lying is right, but what you’ve done is actually quite healthy.”

That made me feel even better.

I wanted to put it off, but I had to drop by Daisy’s house the next day. The Fillmore had paid me for the band’s performance, and I needed to pass that money on. I texted Daisy to see if she was going to be home. On a Tuesday afternoon, I expected everybody else to be at work. I was wrong.

Levi answered the door. He pulled me into the house, lifted me up, and swung me in a circle. “You know, the first time I met you, I remember thinking you were one ballsy chick. I was right.”

I couldn’t recall the last time someone had been so effervescent in their greeting. I laughed, trying to sound happy instead of nervous. The living room was full of people. Levi set me down, and Daisy took up where he left off. Thankfully, she only hugged me. Then Gavin took his turn. He set me in front of Dylan and shoved my shoulder, urging me closer to Dylan. I resisted.

I didn’t know if he was angry with me for telling him to fuck off or if I was still upset with him for treating me like a client.

He offered a tight smile. “Thanks, Lacey. Because of you, we’ve had two radio stations ask for a single.”

“That’s wonderful.” I was genuinely delighted for him. For them all. I directed my congratulations at the group. “You guys deserve it. Hopefully you can get some air time in a major market like Los Angeles or New York.”

The tension between Dylan and me was thick, and the rest of the band would’ve had to be incredibly clueless not to pick up on it. They weren’t. The cheerful sounds in the room quieted.

I extracted my wallet from my purse. “I wasn’t sure how you wanted it, so I brought one check. You guys probably want to put it aside for studio time or new equipment or something.”

They had other jobs, and the paltry pay from their shows wasn’t enough to use for income so they’d been putting that money into a pool to use for the band’s expenses. On the plus side, they were now self-supporting. I’d never asked if they had any surplus. It wasn’t my business.

Dylan looked at the amount. “You didn’t take your six percent.”

I shrugged. I didn’t need the money. “I didn’t do anything much.”

He glowered at me, and I took a step back, edging toward the door. I wasn’t afraid, but I didn’t have anything left for a fight. John might have looked fine, but I’d spent the night tossing and turning, waiting for the call that would confirm my worst fears.

Gavin put his hands on my shoulders and spun me to face him. The tension building between Dylan and me didn’t fade, but it stopped growing. Gavin grinned. “Daisy said you’d refuse the money. That’s okay. We have a better deal. We want to hire you to be our manager.”

I studied his face, looking for signs he was fooling with me. Gavin had a great sense of humor, but sometimes he was the only one in on the joke.

Daisy spoke next. “You don’t have to answer right now. You can take some time to think about it.”

They were serious. “I don’t know how to be a manager. You should get somebody with experience. Or at least somebody who has an idea of what they’re doing.” I scanned the crowd. They stood around me in a semicircle. From their expressions they seemed to disagree with me.

Levi gave voice to their opposition. “As I said, you’ve got balls. Brass ones. We want you.”

“Courage,” Dylan chimed in. “He means you have courage. You can tell Levi doesn’t write our lyrics. He has a limited vocabulary.”

Daisy took my hand. “Lacey, you got us a gig opening for Walk the Moon, and you weren’t even trying. You can do anything.”

I didn’t have that kind of confidence in me. “It was dumb luck. I was in the right place at the right time. You don’t want to entrust your future to me.”

“Six months,” Daisy said. “Let’s try it for six months. At the end of that time, if either party wants to dissolve the contract for any reason, we can.”

“Contract?” They wanted a legal relationship? That scared me more than anything. It put responsibilities on my shoulders I wasn’t sure the skin of my hands could take.

Dylan handed me a green folder. “It’s in there. You get twelve percent to start. We already signed it.”

They weren’t going to let me get away with a straight refusal. I clutched the folder to my chest, but I didn’t look inside. “I’ll think about it, but not right now. I have to meet a client, so I need to get going.”

During the farewell process, I caught more than a few accusatory glares directed at Dylan. I wondered if he’d told them about our argument.

I made it two steps from my car before he came after me.

“Lacey, wait up a second.”

Pausing on the strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street, I pivoted in time to see his magnificent figure jogging toward me. I would like to say I took this time to compare him unfavorably to Thomas, but I didn’t. Dylan is hot; nobody else comes close.

I peered up at him with what I hoped was a neutral expression. He didn’t need to know I would welcome him shoving me against my car to make out in public. Nope. Hell, I was better off not knowing that.

“I wanted to apologize for Friday night. I didn’t mean to upset you. I care about you—”

“I know you care about me, Dylan.” That’s sort of the problem. If he cared a little less, he might feel free to make a move. Or not. With my luck, today is his wife’s birthday. I had so many things I wanted to say to him, none of them appropriate. I settled for meeting him halfway. “I’m not mad at you anymore.”

He grinned, and his eyes sparkled in the sunlight. A breeze played with a lock of hair on his forehead. I noticed these details, and wished I didn’t.

“I knew giving you a few days to cool off was the right move. You’re not the kind of person who holds a grudge for very long.”

I sighed. I don’t hold grudges because I usually don’t care enough to stay angry. “John was in the hospital Sunday with signs of a heart attack. He didn’t have one, but it was close.”

He could assume I’d been at John’s side through it all. If my mother had called, that would’ve been the case. Did this count as a lie? I honestly don’t know.

“I’m sorry to hear that. He’s okay now?”

I nodded. “They’re changing their exercise and eating habits. John has a history of heart disease in his family, so we’re taking it very seriously.”

“Good.” He hesitated, ruffling his hair with his hand. “If you need me, you can call. Anytime.”

“Thanks.” I turned, hitting the button to unlock my car. The conversation was made awkward by what wasn’t being said. I knew he wanted to bring up my hand-washing, and I desperately didn’t want to mention where I’d been or who I’d been with.

“Lacey?”

I didn’t want to face him again, but I did.

“Think about it, okay? You’ll make a great manager.”

Chapter Twelve

T
WO
N
IGHTS
L
ATER
, on my way home from dinner with Mom and John, my cell rang. I turned down the radio and answered it.

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“Thomas. I was just thinking about you.”

I swear I could hear him smile on the other end of the line. “I know. I’m psychic.”

During my deliberations, I’d come to the conclusion that Thomas would be an objective sounding board for the idea of me managing Kiss Me Goodnight. Luma and Jane both thought I should jump at the opportunity, but I wanted an unbiased opinion. “I wanted to ask your advice on something.”

“Really?” He sounded pleased.

“Yeah. Did you get those tracks I sent you?”

“The ones from your friends’ band? Yep. They sound great.”

“They want me to manage them.” I explained about the six-month contract. He already knew about the opening gig I’d landed for them. I’d used the story to make him laugh on our date. The fact that my lying didn’t put him off made me feel like I could take more emotional chances with him.

“What percentage did they offer? Or did they go for a straight salary?”

I gave him the details. He asked questions that had never occurred to me, confirming my decision to ask for his counsel. His business experience far exceeded mine.

“Fax me the contract. I’ll take closer look and talk to a buddy who has some experience managing musical talent. Now, let’s get back to the original reason I called. What are you doing this weekend?”

Other than checking on my mom and John, I didn’t have plans. “I was hoping to see you.”

“I’m in Chicago until Friday. Is there any chance I can convince you to meet me for dinner? We could make a weekend of it—see the aquarium, stuff like that. And it’s close enough that I can get you home in under an hour if an emergency arises.”