Authors: Abby Reynolds
Chapter Five
♬
Prudence Clearwater
I hated my apartment.
When I woke up, I wasn’t alone. A swarm of cockroaches was on the blanket. After screaming hysterically, I finally maned-up and killed them. But I was still grossed out. I couldn’t eat in my apartment. I ended up going to a Subway and got a five dollar foot long. But those damn insects were still on my mind.
Ugh.
I was having dinner with Dean tonight, and I was nervous. He could be the stepping-stone to my dream. But I felt bad for leaving my
band behind. It’s unfortunate I was discovered as soon as they left. Maybe I could change Dean’s mind. I packed a few cds in my purse to give to Dean.
I was embarrassed for him to see my apartment. It was horrific. So I insisted
on meeting him. We were going to Santa Monica, which was forty-five minutes away. And the bill for the taxi was horrendous. I should have just let him pick me up. I couldn’t afford to be stubborn anymore.
I met him at the restaurant and stood outside. He mad
e his appearance a moment later, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He always dressed casual, but I could see the definition of his body. It was clear he took his fitness seriously. And that made me think of Cash.
Ugh. I missed him like crazy.
“You look nice.” He eyed my dress.
It was the only clean thing I had at the moment. I was too scared to use the communion laundry room. What if there were cockroaches there too? “Thank you. You look nice too.”
He smiled. “I like this side of Prudence. She’s sweet and polite.”
“I’m actually a lovely person. I just didn’t show it that well the other night.”
“It’s okay. I’ll let it go.” He stopped in front of me, his hands by his sides. “Hungry?”
I was starving. But I hoped he didn’t have anything too expensive in mind. I had to make rent and survive the next month. “Yes.”
He stepped away from the restaurant and headed to the pier.
Well, this was looking good.
We walked down the wooden walkway. The sun was setting and there was a light breeze. I couldn’t distinguish between the seasons here. It always seemed to be warm no matter what month it was.
“They have some good food stands here. I’m not exactly classy.” His hands were in his pockets.
“That’s a relief. I didn’t want to go anywhere fancy.”
“I figured it’d make you nervous anyway.”
Dean could read me pretty well. “Yeah…”
We ordered sandwiches at a cart. When Dean paid for it, I was relieved. As
ashamed as I was to admit it, I was dirt poor. And I refused to use my brother’s credit card—right now.
“So, tell me something about yourself.”
I wasn’t very interesting. “I lived in London my whole life. I’ve only been here for a few months.”
“And how do you like it?”
“It’s fine.”
He leaned agains
t the fence surrounding the pier and ate his food over the rail. The extra pieces dropped to the water below. “Where’s your band?”
“Oh. They already went home.”
“Was your boyfriend in the band?”
I thought of Gavin. “No.”
“Why did they leave you behind?” He didn’t look at me. In fact, he hardly ever looked at me. And that was nice. Cash used to blatantly stare at my face until I dropped my gaze.
Ugh. There I go again
.
“They had lives to get back to. And I need to start a new one.”
“Your life sounds complicated.”
“I wish it wasn’t.”
He wiped his hands on a napkin then tossed it in the garbage. “I’d love to know why if you’re willing to share.”
I didn’t like opening up to people—especially someone I hardly knew. But I had no one in this city. I was totally alone. And if things worked out, Dean would be my closest friend. “I had a bad breakup—a different one.”
“Wow. Two heartbreaks in a few months. At least you recover quickly.”
I wasn’t sure if that was meant as an insult. “I’ve never recovered.”
“Why can’t you go back?”
I shrugged. “Everyone looks at me with pity. I need a fresh start. I’m sick of being the girl that
was cheated on and was too stupid to notice.”
“Well, this guy sounds stupid. He has no idea what he lost.”
That was a nice thing of him to say.
“And what’
s your plan?”
“Get a job and move on.”
“Sounds good.”
I threw away my trash and felt the happiness in my stomach. No cockroaches.
“And what happened with the second break up?”
Oh. That. “We decided to have a short romance—a fling. But I ended up falling in love with him. He didn’t feel the same way.”
“Another stupid one.” He smiled at me.
“I’m just trying to move on and forget about it. I have horrible taste in men.”
“What was wrong with the last guy?”
“Nothing…but he hurt me.”
“Maybe you didn’t realize this before, but you’re always going to get hurt in a relationship. It doesn’t matter who the guy is or what his promises are. It’s a way of life.”
I knew he was right. But that didn’t make it any easier. I just wish things had been different with Cash. I missed him. “You’re right.”
“I wish I weren’t.” He rested his arms on the rail. “But at least you have plenty to write about.”
“Oh, that I do.” I chuckled.
He smiled. “Which is good for me.”
“Are you married, Dean?”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “I’m a terminal bachelor.”
“Why is that?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to find a girl who likes me for me, not what I can offer her.”
Cash said the same thing. It was a common mindset in this city. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I’m not lonely.”
So he was a lot like Cash. He probably had his line of girls he chose from. I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing.
“I’d like to hear you play your other instruments.”
“I can do that,” I said immediately.
“Can I come over and listen?”
Umm… “I don’t have anything besides my guitar. My band took everything else.”
“Fortunately, I have everything at my house. Come over.”
I was afraid of being alone with him. And I had no idea why. I guess I felt like I was still Cash’s…girlfriend. But there was nothing between Dean and I. He made it clear he’s only interested in me for my profession. And he didn’t seem like a liar. “Sure.”
“Great.” He led me back to his car. I was glad I could get a free ride back to Studio City. I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to take a cab back. I’d probably have to take the bus.
When we were inside his car, he was listening to classical music. Which surprised me. “What kind of music do you produce?”
“Indie rock stuff. Like Of Monsters and Men, Mumford and Sons, stuff like that.”
My eyes widened. I was in love with those bands. “Seriously?”
He smiled. “You like them?”
“Uh, duh.”
He laughed. “I’ll introduce you sometime.”
“I love you,” I blurted.
“I love you too.” He drove to Hollywood then parked at a house on the beach. Cash lived in Malibu so I knew they weren’t neighbors. He pulled into the garage then closed it behind him.
“You have a nice car.” I thought I should compliment him in some way.
“Thank you. I like it.”
We walked into his house and I was surprised at how white it was. The furniture was black an
d contrasted directly against the pale walls. It was sparkling clean. It was like no one lived there.
“Do you like it?” he asked. I didn’t realize he was watching my face.
“It’s beautiful.” And there were no cockroaches. Another plus.
“Thank you. It was my dad’s.”
Every time he mentioned his death, I felt sad. But he seemed to be okay with it.
“But wait until you see The Sound Room.”
“The Sound Room?” That sounded fun.
He walked up the stairs. “Up here.”
I followed behind him then passed a line of doors. When we reached the room, I was amazed by the sight. It was full of top-of-the-line equipment, and two of the walls were made of pure glass. I could see the front yard and the beach. It was peaceful and beautiful.
“The windows are tinted so you can’t see inside.” His hand glided across the piano then to the drum set. “Show me what you got, kid.”
“Kid?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re only a few years older than me.”
“I’m glad you see it that way.” He winked then took a seat on the sofa. His hands moved behind his head, getting relaxed.
I suddenly felt nervous. I moved to the piano and didn’t look at him. My fingers hit the keys and I started to play the first song that came to mind. It was about Cash.
Of course it was.
When I heard the strumming of a guitar, I opened my eyes. Dean sat next to me while he plucked the strings. His hand moved up the neck then down again. He didn’t even
need to look. He knew his instruments. And he made a tune that complimented mine perfectly. He memorized the chorus and sang it with me. The connection that formed between us immediately reminded me of Gavin. We met and bonded in a similar way.
I didn’t watch my hands while I played. Instead, I looked at Dean. The joy and radiance that
covered his face was the same as mine when I played my music. I automatically felt comfortable with him. If we didn’t have a good conversation, and didn’t meet on the best terms, that was okay. But if he could keep up with me and my music, then he was golden.
When he had a beautiful solo and got into it, I started to laugh. He stood up then spun the guitar around his neck like a rock star.
“You’re really good.”
“Not quite as good as you.” He returned to his seat with the guitar on his lap.
“You can sing pretty well.”
He shrugged. “I try.”
“Why don’t you become a professional musician?” The words flew out of my mouth.
“I don’t like to play in front of people.”
It didn’t seem like he had stage fright a second ago. “Oh.”
“Being a musician is a lot of work. There’s a lot of touring, a lot of connection
s to keep, a lot of privacy that’s taken away. I do a much better job protecting my clients instead of being a client.”
I understood that
perfectly. I’d always been a private person, and I wasn’t looking forward to having that taken away. But it was unfortunate such a talented musician didn’t share his music with the world for that reason. “I’m sorry.”
‘There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He returned the guitar to the stand. “I still play all the time.”
“I’d love to do a duet with you.” My mouth wouldn’t stop running.
“Just for us?” he asked.
“Just for the record. I won’t perform it live. It will be on the extended edition cd.”
He smiled. “You seem to think I’m going to offer you something.”
“We just played a song together. We practically had sex—at least in musician world.” I chuckled at my own joke.
A smile stretched his lips. “You have
a point.”
We stared each other for a moment. When it became too intense, I looked away and stared at the keyboard. I wasn’t sure what just happened.
“How about the drum set?” he asked. He rested his ankle on his knee. He seemed relaxed.
“I can play
.”
“Let’s hear it.” He winked at me.
It wasn’t so creepy this time. I grabbed the sticks and started to play around. “Any requests?”
“That depends. What do you know how to play?”
He assumed I wasn’t very good because I was a girl.
Ha. I’ll show him.
I decided to play “Blackened” by Metallica. I hit the drums with force and kept my foot on the bass pedal. I concentrated, trying to remember every beat. I bobbed my head while I got into it. When I got my point across, I stopped playing.
His eyes were wide and his mouth gaped opening. “Holy shit.”
That’s what I thought.
“Where did you learn?”
“I taught myself.”
“What…how…what?” He was totally incoherent.
I smiled, proud of myself.
“You’re the coolest chick ever.” He stared at me
with new eyes. “I’ve worked with a lot musicians and have met a lot of talent but…that was something else.”
“That means you
are
going to offer me a deal.” I cornered him.
He knew he was caught. “How could I not? You’re the most talented musician I’ve ever met.”
“Then you haven’t met Paul McCartney, Jimi Hendrix, or Jim Morrison.”