Let Me Be the One (4 page)

“Good night, Daddy.” Tess closed her eyes.

Brian left the room, wishing he could close his eyes. When Marc had called months ago to say that Suzette Miranda Bazian was dating the guitar player in Savitar, he’d been excited. It was the first time he’d remembered feeling that tingle in years. His wedding day. That was the last time. Marrying a beautiful woman, having a family. He’d anticipated settling into a real adult life. So far, adult life didn’t live up to the sales pitch. Marriage had been the biggest disappointment. Marriage and kids. Hollow pantomime. One more thing he had to deal with.

His music room was the best room in the house. Bonnie hadn’t let him decorate anything else, but this room was all his. It always felt warm and welcoming. Rich, golden brown walls and crimson carpet. The furniture, in a darker shade of brown, was big and comfortable. He ran his hand over the fuzzy cloth before picking up a guitar, but instead of playing, he set it down and picked up his e-reader from the top of the piano. Lying under it, he had a picture of Logan and Ms. Bazian ripped from
People Magazine
. When he just had a few pictures to go on, he’d thought she was cute. The photo on her website was posed and formal, but hot. Marc had told Brian he wanted her the first time he saw her picture. Reading her book hadn’t diminished that impression. The
People
photo was even better. Her lush lips parted in surprise as she gazed up at Logan who stared possessively into the camera. She’d looked so sweet and touchable in pictures.

In person? Aloof, untouchable, almost arrogant, but at the same time soft and vulnerable. Before dinner she’d been giggling with Greg. Brian would, have given anything to be the focus of that attention. To have those lips whispering in his ear. He’d been tempted to drink too much to see if she would cut him off, but he doubted she would have. He studied the picture, imagining himself in Logan’s place. Those bright eyes staring up at him. Tonight, she’d looked at Logan like that, too. Every time her gaze fell on him, her face softened into utter devotion. That’s what Brian thought he was getting when he married Bonnie. That rich, lush affection. Maybe that came with a price, too. What was Logan paying?

The phone rang at his elbow. “Hello?”

“Well?” Marc demanded.

“She’s coming out to WVA in a couple weeks. Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

“Come on, what’s she like? He did bring her, didn’t he?”

“He brought her.” Brian set aside his guitar. “She’s kinda…” Amazing? Ethereal? Bewitching? “Ordinary in person.”

“Come on, come on. Don’t give me that shit. She’s got wings or fangs. She doesn’t drink…vine.” Marc gave his best Bela Lugosi and failed, as usual.

“Well, she doesn’t drink. She sounds like the Queen of England when she talks.”

“She does?” Marc sounded horrified. “How?”

“She said she thought
Bayonet Ball
was interesting overall, but ‘Love Lies Bleeding’ had lovely lyrical complexity.” Brian winced at his own bad imitation of her elegant tone.

“Ugh. I feel like she patted me on the head and told me I was a good boy.” Marc paused. “‘Lovely lyrical complexity’?”

“Those were her exact words.” Brian tumbled the phrase around in his mind. Lovely lyrical complexity. He recalled her tone as she’d said it. The light, musical quality of her voice. “She was looking at Jason’s books, too.”

“What books?”

“The books in the living room.”

“The ones the decorator stuck there?”

“Yeah.” After she’d refilled everyone’s drinks, except Bonnie’s, she’d wandered to the far side of the room and started leafing through one of the books. Logan had gone over and had a little chat with her. The expression on her face as he touched her cheek made Brian wish he had a camera. Before they went into the dining room to have dinner, Brian had checked to see what she was reading. Keats.

“I’ve never looked at them. What’s he even got?”

“Old stuff like you’d read for school. She had one open.”

“So she’s a fruit bat intellectual? I’m not sure I want to bother with the side trip to meet her.”

“I don’t know yet. She’s damn sexy in person, and she wasn’t even working it.”

“I thought you said she was ordinary.”

“Ordinary in a sexy way.”

“What was she wearing?”

“Just a skirt, a shirt, and some heels. Greg’s girlfriend came in all tarted up, but Ms. Bazian looked very glamorous. Enough to piss off Bonnie.”

“Bonnie was there? Why?”

“I don’t know. Probably to make me miserable. She just wasn’t what I expected at all.”

“Bonnie?”

“Ms. Bazian. She wants us to call her Suzi. Her real name is Susan Begovich.”

“So it’s not Suzette Miranda Bazian?”

“No, that’s just the name she writes under.”

“Oh. But she’s hot? For an ordinary girl.”

Hot? Tiny and thin with straight brown hair to the middle of her back, deep set exotic eyes, a voice like late summer peaches. “She’s hot. I hope she hangs around the studio just for the eye candy.” Brian smiled, considering the way she’d filled out her little blouse and skirt. “Legs to there and a lovely swing to her hips.”

“Well, maybe we’ll have to put tape over her mouth and have her walk for us.”

Brian laughed. It was a nice thought to dwell on, but he couldn’t imagine her doing it. She’d say, ‘Why would I do that?’” in her cultured tone, and that would be the end of it.

“Tell me, were you actually able to talk to her?”

“What do you mean?” Brian wondered if there was a way out of this. Jason had been riding him at dinner about his inability to talk to her. Did he need to listen to Marc, too?

“You didn’t. You went all tongue-tied and shy.” Marc clucked. “It’s so cute.”

“Fuck off.” Cute. That’s what Greg had said over dinner when they were whispering to each other. He’d kissed her cheek and told her she was “so cute.” She’d grinned at him and transformed from this untouchable goddess into a delectable woman. Then she’d ruined it by turning to him and giving him a smile straight from lofty Olympus.

“I was trying not to piss off my wife.”

“Right. Should I call Jason so he can tell me the truth now?”

“Fuck off.”

Marc laughed and hung up. Brian put the phone down and turned on his e-reader. He’d only read everything she’d ever published seven or eight times. What was one more?

And what was he going to do when she arrived at the studio in a few weeks? Stay tongue-tied and shy, or learn how to speak English? He hadn’t been this nervous about talking to someone since he met Mick Jagger.

The phone rang again and Brian grabbed it. “Hello?”

“She propositioned me.” Jason laughed. Cassie was laughing in the background.

“What?”

“She propositioned me. Remember when we were talking about her books before dinner and she said she hoped they kept me up? Get it? Kept me up?” The phone clattered on the floor. Jason must have dropped it.

Brian chewed his thumbnail.
I hope they kept you up
?

“She went scarlet as soon as she said it,” Jason said. “I thought she was having a heart attack. Logan froze, too. Like he knew what she’d meant instead of what she’d said. Cassie figured it out right away. That’s why she went to the kitchen. She had to go out back so we wouldn’t hear her laughing.”

I hope they kept you up
. A bubble came up Brian’s throat. It took him a second to recognize it as laughter. He lolled his head on the back of the couch and let it roll through him. She’d propositioned Jason right there on the couch in front of his wife and her boyfriend, by accident.

“You think she’s shy?” Jason asked.

“How could a woman who writes what she writes be shy?” Brian recalled a couple of scenes from her books and enjoyed a pleasant flush of heat. He’d never read a writer who could be so sexy and terrifying at the same time.

“She doesn’t do it in front of an audience. Did you hear her when she refilled our drinks before dinner? She was so soft spoken.”

She had gone around to everyone in the room first. Only the light touch of her fingers when she’d rested her hand on his shoulder to catch his attention let him know that she’d finally come to him. Her voice had been soft, but he’d assumed it was because she didn’t want to interrupt the conversation.

“And she wasn’t exactly dressed to be the center of attention, either.”

“I thought she looked nice.”

“She did look nice. She just didn’t look like she was for sale.”

Brian pursed his lips. No, not for sale. Not even available.

“You know what I mean. I was afraid she was going to show up dressed like the other girl and ruin all the ideas I’d had about her.”

“You had ideas about her?” Jason was supposed to be blissfully married, not fantasizing about the little writer. Then again, he wasn’t supposed to be having fantasies about the little writer, either, and what was he going to be doing as soon as he got off the phone?

“Like you didn’t.”

“You’re a happily married man.”

“A happily married man with a wife and a child who are going through some sleep problems, not a dead man. Just remember this is all your fault.” Through the line Brian heard Cassie swat him.

“I didn’t get Cassie pregnant.”

“No, but you talked me into this recording gig. I don’t need to be producing other bands.”

“But think about how much fun it’ll be.” Fun. Yeah.

Present

Suzi tried to focus out the window when Brett pulled into the entryway. She’d been asleep too much of the trip, but sleep was the only refuge she had. This wasn’t Brett’s house. It wasn’t anybody’s house. The rambling adobe structure could have been carved out of the desert. A valet in a crisp red and black uniform walked over to open her door as she scanned the surroundings. Not in LA anymore. How long had they been on the road? Somewhere between twenty minutes and six hours.

“I always thought Logan was a total territorial dickhead when it came to you. And the way he was about the groupies. Like he was better than the rest of us. Which he kinda was. But still. That doesn’t mean he gets to rub our noses in it.” Brett’s voice was rough, as if he hadn’t stopped talking the entire trip.

The valet opened her door. Suzi kept her mouth shut while they went through the check-in process. No one seemed at all surprised that they had no luggage. The lack of luggage, and Brett’s apparent frequent flyer status, got them into a room in record time. The room was Southwestern themed. Water from the hot tub on the balcony cascaded into an infinity pool overlooking the desert.

Suzi stood in front of the mirror over the dresser. The people at the desk were pros. No one had batted an eyelash despite the fact that she looked like she’d escaped from an Alice Cooper road show. She should have invested in waterproof mascara. Did the hotel staff know?

Men screwed up, and women were supposed to forgive them. This wasn’t her first miscarriage. It wouldn’t be her last. She needed to toughen up already.

She wanted to curl into the fetal position and cry for a week, and she wanted Brian to hold her while she sobbed.

That wasn’t an option.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked.

“You know all those guys are gonna be looking for you. I figured you needed the time away. Nobody knows I come here.” Brett wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “A little hot tub and a little weed, and you’ll be feeling fine.”

Weed. All her life she’d been avoiding stuff like that, and what had it gotten her? About now, she could see the allure of heroin. And what was she supposed to wear in the hot tub? Dumb question. She’d left the party with an infamous sex fiend. There were expectations. Plus, sex was great for getting rid of cramps. Might just be cramps.

In the bathroom, she washed her face. She didn’t have anything to take off her make-up. The effort to call the desk and ask for something better than soap seemed like too much trouble. All her things were at Logan’s hotel room or Logan’s house. God, she’d even forgotten her cell in his car.

Wrapped in a thick terrycloth robe, she walked into the room. Brett stood on the balcony staring at the scenery. Thankfully, not naked. Yet. She sat down on the foot of the bed.

Brett heard her and strolled back into the room. “I love it here. It’s so peaceful. It’s a great place to get away from all that bullshit in town.” He sat down beside her. “I’m tellin’ ya. A little hot tub. A little swim. A little weed. You’ll be back up to normal in no time.”

She put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him. His lips parted under her assault, but instead of pulling her closer, he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked.

“No, but it’s what you want, and at the moment, I could use the distraction.”

“Don’t think that I’m not totally game. You are the Holy Grail, but I don’t want you doing anything unless you want to.” He draped his arm around her like a big brother. “If you want, we can work on some good excuses. Relaxation. Revenge. We could get you drunk. A combination of all three. No one would blame you if you got drunk trying to relax and screwed me to get revenge on Logan.”

A killing cramp sliced through her. Suzi doubled over, nearly tumbling off the bed. Brett grabbed her and laid her back on the mattress. Pulling her knees up, she wrapped her arms around them.

“Hey! What’s the matter? Oh hell. You’re not pregnant, are you? Please tell me you got some bad shrimp or something.”

Another cramp cut through her.

“I’m calling an ambulance.” Brett reached for the phone.

“No!” Suzi grabbed his arm, gouging her fingers into his flesh. “Don’t.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve never been able to carry one to term.” She hugged her knees to her chest. It had felt like this before, too. Only now the world was ending at the same time. Closing her eyes, she focused on the waves of pain emanating from her gut and spreading to the tips of her toes and the ends of her fingers. If she didn’t move, she was going to get blood on the bed.

“You need a doctor.” Brett pulled away from her.