Out Of Place (Face the Music Book 2) (12 page)

Lisa had made the end of the tour difficult for Dan, but he’d never gone into details. At least not to anyone except Gemma. It was probably a good thing that he was talking to someone. “She hoping he’ll blow up in our faces?”

Gemma nodded. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Awesome.” Just fucking awesome.

Chapter 9

One of the bridesmaids had brought non-alcoholic bubbly to the hairdresser’s—if they started drinking now they’d be too drunk to party tonight. The six of them sat in the fancy hairdressers wearing black smocks. Most of the women were happy to have the afternoon off work. Olivia wished she had a job, not that she was sharing that with any of them.

So she kept her smile in place. She had to play nicely. This was for Julie. And Julie always got what she wanted in the end. As a kid she’d always been fighting to get out of Julie’s shadow. Every time she found the sun, Julie tried to block it so it shone wholly on her.

“You are so lucky having naturally blonde hair. I have clients who would kill for hair like this.” The hairdresser combed through the tangles at the ends.

“I’m about ready to chop it off.” When it was hot all she did was wear it up. Long hair was a hassle to look after and she’d had long hair all of her life.

“Don’t you dare before the wedding.” Julie leaned forward and glared at her.

Olivia bit back the smile that wanted to form. It was tempting, but it would be another change and she wasn’t ready to up end every part of her life, including how she looked.

“How about I take a few inches off instead? Freshen it up with some layers?” The hairdresser smiled. What she was really saying was that in was in dire need of a cut and the ends were split. Olivia knew that, but getting a haircut was well down on her list of things that needed doing.

Olivia nodded. Since Julie was paying and in charge, agreeing was easier—after all, Julie wouldn’t want her sister’s hair to ruin the wedding. Olivia closed her eyes and listened to Julie talk to the hairdressers and the makeup artist. As long as Julie didn’t deliberately make the bridesmaids look hideous, Olivia didn’t really care what they did. For this event she had no opinion. She repeated that to herself as people bustled around her. Brushes tickled her skin as the makeup was applied.

What was Ed doing? Had he been surfing today? Was he at home working, writing?

She tried to picture him sitting with his guitar, playing. If she hadn’t been doing the hens’ night thing—or broken up with him—it would’ve been nice to see him perform. Could she slip into the performance and watch unnoticed? She’d wanted to call and write it all off as a bad day, but couldn’t.

He was not the kind of guy that girls like her dated. Guys like him slept with a woman and then moved on. Right now that didn’t sound half bad. If it were only herself she had to think about, she’d have gone there.

While she’d told herself it was for the best a thousand times this week, she didn’t believe it. Thinking of him made her heart ache, not for lost love, as she didn’t love Ed—although she suspected that would be easy to do—but for lost opportunities. She’d been given a chance to not just stand in the sun, but to dance, and she’d scuttled under the nearest rock.

She should’ve taken the opportunity to date him…sleep with him. She held her breath for a moment as lust coiled, waiting to be released. Heat flared on her cheeks and she hoped she had enough makeup on that no one could tell.

Had she thrown away her one chance to get laid for another three years?

She wasn’t sure she could go another three years without. She’d definitely thrown away her only chance to sleep with a rock star—although he didn’t consider himself one. Wasn’t that one of the things everyone should do at least once?

A wave of sadness washed over her. She’d thrown away Ed because she’d been having a bad day and been afraid. Better to be the dumper than the dumpee.

He’d have gotten bored with her.

They wouldn’t have lasted the summer.

She didn’t have time.

She had other priorities.

Every excuse rang hollow. She was allowed to have fun, but she’d forgotten how. Having fun meant taking risks and taking risks meant the possibility of getting hurt. Her heart was too fragile.

But when she thought of the way he smiled at her and the way he’d kissed her, she knew it wasn’t her heart holding her back—it was fear about what other people would say. When he walked away she could imagine the comments. All of them in Julie’s mock sympathetic tones.

Of course someone like him would get bored with someone like you.

Did you really think he would stay? Look at you, all scarred.

What kind of guy wants an insta-family?

She was glad that she’d never said anything to anyone about Ed. And she never would. She wouldn’t forget him either.

“Open up your eyes and I’ll finish off the mascara,” the makeup artist said.

Olivia obediently opened her eyes. The woman in the mirror staring back was a stranger. She was glamorous. Her eyes were wider, bluer. Her lips fuller. She looked like a model or a celebrity.

“What do you think?” The makeup artist added an extra sweep of mascara.

Olivia’s lips curved. She had a night off and she didn’t look like herself—perhaps she should act like someone else too and throw caution out the window. “Perfect.”

She should text Ed and let him know that she’d be in Freo for the hens’ night. Perhaps she could find a way to escape and watch him play. A dozen different ideas chased through her head and not one of them worked. She’d ended it and he hadn’t tried to get her back. Part of her had hoped that he would. In the end the message she send him was a limp good luck.

He didn’t respond.

“We’re very happy to have been invited to the Basement to play one of our favourite albums.” Ed paused as the crowd responded with claps and a few whistles.

It was a small venue—a brightly painted café that put on local live music every Friday and Saturday night—and almost full. A good turnout.

He tried not to think about how he’d invited Olivia. He had tried not to think about her at all this week. And he’d failed.

He hadn’t gone for a surf for the past two days because going there made him think of her. Then she’d texted him as they were setting up.

He had no idea how to respond. Or if he wanted to. So he hadn’t and he’d concentrated on getting ready to perform.

Dan had pulled himself together, was on time, and his hair and clothes were perfectly styled. Seeing that had eased his worry considerably. Mike was looking like a yeti emerging from hibernation and Gemma was oozing attitude.

Selling the Sun at its finest.

They were here to have some fun. Yet the pre-performance nerves were there, twisting his gut. They needed to get started…

“This one we used to play when we were practising, and I believe it’s actually the first CD that Gemma bought with her own money.” He glanced her.

“Why, yes it was, Ed.” Gemma almost smiled. “So I’d like to claim the first song.”

“You think you can?” Of course she could, they’d rehearsed it that way but part of the show was the give and take between them. He’d lost count of the number of rumours about them. Better that than the truth that Gemma was dating his sister. Kirsten wasn’t ready for that kind of scrutiny. He didn’t think Gemma was either.

“Do you think I can?” She pointed her mic at the crowd and of course they agreed.

“Guess I’m on backing.” He stepped back and feigned hurt. Which wasn’t that hard after the week he’d had.

“I love you, Ed!” a woman called out.

“I love you too. It’s because of you guys that we get to do this stuff.” His gaze scanned the crowd, but there was no one who caught his eye. Was he really hoping that Olivia would show up? Yes. He shoved the idea away. She was at her sister’s hens’ night and he was going out with his mates after.

“If the love fest is over…” Gemma gave Mike a nod and the drum intro started up. Gemma had no trouble carrying the darker gravelly vocals.

They’d had to flip a coin for the song. Fate had been on her side. Luck had abandoned him totally. All he needed was for his car to die and his thumbs to fall off.

Tonight was different. Sometimes everything gelled and they hit the sweet spot where it wasn’t work. This was one of those nights. He could feel his batteries recharging as he performed, feeding off the energy of the crowd.

He ended the set with the last song from the album and it was over. Cover complete and show done. They hung around for a bit and had a few drinks with the fans, signed a few things.

Ed couldn’t help but wish it had been their own songs they’d been playing. While it had been fun, they were no longer playing covers in small venues. This felt like a step back—but no one else felt that way.

He reminded himself that things like this generate good will both with fans and the industry and more importantly, they generated money.

Gemma slung her arm around his shoulder, her other arm around Dan. “I’m going to see pretty boy and our equipment home. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

Ed glanced at Dan. He might have been sober for the show but he wasn’t now. Ed didn’t let his smile slip as he raised his beer to Dan. Dan had done his part and for that Ed was grateful. Ed handed Gemma his car keys. He had a clean shirt out the back. All he had to do was get changed and sign the one he was currently wearing. Someone always wanted it. It had started by accident in Darwin and was now a thing. He went through a lot of five dollar t-shirts.

“Have a good night.”

Dan gave his usual salute, touching two fingers to his eyebrow. At least for tonight he was back to being himself. Gemma was obviously working her magic on him. She’d traded three blood brothers for three band mates. He knew who she liked more…and who she spent more time with.

Mike seemed to be setting himself up for the night. He had a woman practically glued to him, and while a few had tried to get close to Ed he had gently eased them away. He wasn’t in the mood for what was on offer, and what he wanted wasn’t available. He checked his watch. It was time to change shirts and leave. Luke and his other mates would be waiting at the pub. A night out with the boys was what he needed, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

Several beers later he was enjoying the music, the noise, the beer and chasers, and being out with his friends. He was very glad he didn’t have to worry about driving home. He could regret the hangover in the morning. Then they started up on the Bali trip.

“Luke says you aren’t coming.”

“Nah, not this time.” He wasn’t going to let anything dampen his mood. He’d love to get away and do nothing but surf and drink for five days, and if the album was written then maybe…

“Dude, for a rocker you are all work.”

That’s because it was hard work and he was beginning to hate being called a rock star. Stardom implied wealth and fame—neither of which he had. He was able to go out in his home town and not be recognised by fans, mostly. While it was nice, it also bit as it meant that he hadn’t made it. He redirected the conversation, his feet finding the beat. He wanted to dance. “I hope the surf is cranking in Margaret River in a few weeks.”

If it was, he’d be packing his board as well as his guitars when he played the two day music festival in the new year. If they didn’t get some solid writing done before then they were going to be in trouble. He squashed the thoughts before his brain could jump on that rat wheel. He wasn’t going to think about work tonight.

“Are you camping or flash enough for accommodation?”

“Accommodation.” But it wouldn’t be flash. And it was only one night. He’d sleep in his car if the surf was going. It wouldn’t be the first time. “You heading down?”

“Yeah. Looks like a good line up…plus you guys.”

Conversation turned to sport and then girlfriends or the lack of. As usual they assumed he was getting laid all the time. This time he led them on as it was better than the reality—that he’d been dropped for being unsuitable. He’d never live that down.

“Eyes right, single boys. A hens’ night is walking in.”

Ed looked. One of the women had on a tiara and sash proclaiming her to be the bride. Most of them were overly madeup to go clubbing. Was Olivia there? Was this her sister’s hens’ night? He shouldn’t care and yet he watched, hoping that people would get out of the way so he could get a better look. “And they are bypassing the bar and heading for the nightclub.”

He’d been looking for an excuse to go in. Luke took the bait and led the charge. “Follow me. Easy pickings.”

Ed grinned, then one of his mates was grabbing his arm and they were following the gaggle of women through to the nightclub. The bass was bigger, bouncing off his ribs and pulsing in his body. The melody didn’t matter as people danced to the beat. Lights flashed, revealing the crowded floor.

Women here on a hens’ night were not here to pick up. That included Olivia—if she was here. If she was, he wouldn’t go up to her. He wasn’t that desperate. But since he was here, he might as well dance and have another drink and laugh as his mates failed to score. And if he ran into her…well, he had no idea.

It had been years since Olivia had been in a club and longer since she’d had so much to drink. They’d had dinner at a little Mexican restaurant, played a few games and been given a few lewd prizes as well as a challenge to complete. She had a hot pink fluffy handcuff around one wrist because she was supposed to catch a man.

She was sure that Julie had set that up deliberately. Olivia was extremely glad no one knew about Ed. That Ed hadn’t replied had stung. Even though he didn’t owe her a reply and he was probably busy, she’d been hoping…

Along with the bridesmaids there were another half dozen of Julie’s friends and at least three of them were also single, but they hadn’t been given such a humiliating challenge. Although after two cocktails and a shot or two of tequila, the idea of catching a guy was becoming more appealing. It had been so long she was sure she had been re-virginised…was that a word?

With her hair and makeup done and a slinky blue dress on—which had been in the back of her wardrobe for as long as her comfy clubbing wedges that tied up with ribbons around her ankles—it was much easier to buy new ribbons than new shoes—she felt that she could be sexy again. Perhaps she could catch someone’s eye…and what, exactly? Take a random back to the hotel room that she was sharing with two other women?

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