Cardinal (15 page)

Gwen’s confused. “The what?”

“It’s five feet,” I remind him.

“I believe we negotiated three.” He grins. “Oh,
and I already talked to Pete. I’ll be driving you home later.”

He will?

Latson looks at Gwen. “Speaking of home, let me
know if you need to leave early. Don’t overdo it.”

“Got it, boss,” she says as he turns and walks
away. When he’s out of earshot, Gwen lowers her arm and wobbles a few steps away
from me. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but something happened between you two.”

I debate telling her. Pete, Jules, and Heidi already
know we went out. Latson isn’t acting shy about us, although he is being vague.
“He’s full of innuendo,” I say, playing along. “You know that.”

She narrows her eyes. “What’s the three foot
rule?”

I decide to busy my hands and grab some
cocktail napkins to place around the bar top. “It’s five feet, and it’s a good
distance to prevent touching.” I try to change the subject. “So, what do you
think Logan is doing right now?”

She doesn’t fall for it. “Touching?” Gwen’s
mouth falls open. “Something did happen!”

I shake my head like she’s being silly. “I want
to talk about Logan.”

“Liar.” Her eyes light up. “Tell me what
happened.”

I try not to laugh. “No.”

“Yes!”  She points at her ankle. “I’m in pain. Humor
me. I’ll make it easy for you and play the opposite game.”

“The what?”

“It goes like this: I ask a question and you
give me the opposite of the truth. That way you don’t have to actually say what
happened.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Have you lost yours?” She leans close so she
can whisper. “Something happened with that fine specimen of a man and you don’t
want to talk about it?  C’mon!”

It would be a girlie thing to do. Obviously I
didn’t talk specifics with Pete. I told him the date went well and to be
prepared – I was going to see Latson again. Jules has family visiting from out
of town, so I only shared a few brief texts with her, although she wants
details when her sisters leave on Friday.

“Okay,” I concede. “You can ask a few
questions.”

Gwen smiles. “You can trust me. I’ll share a
secret of my own to prove it, too. No opposites.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You didn’t hurt yourself
rollerblading?”

“Ugh!  No, that’s true.” She shakes her head. “I
slept with Carter.”

My jaw drops. “You what?  When?  What about
Logan?” I hiss.

“Please.” Gwen rolls her eyes. “The Carter
thing happened over a year ago.”

I’m floored. They get along like brother and
sister. I would never have guessed.

“Your turn,” she says. “I already know
something happened, so when?”

I think about how to answer in an opposite. “Um,
not Monday night?”

“The day after the jam session?  I knew
something was up!  The way you two played guitar together …” She drifts off
with a dreamy look. “Okay. Did you run into each other in your building?”

“Yes.”

“So, no.” She puts her finger to her chin. “Did
he send Oliver over to lure you to his place?”

“What?  No. I mean, yes.”

I start to move around the bar to finish
setting up before the doors open. Gwen limps a few steps behind me. “Was this a
planned event?”

“No.” I toss the empty napkin box in the trash
and realize I never cut the lemons and limes. They’re still sitting on the
cutting board. I pick up a knife and start slicing.

“Was it a date?” Gwen sounds surprised.

“No.”

“It was a date. This is
huge
,” she
emphasizes the word. “He never dates. Never. Never ever ever –”

“Stop,” I laugh. “I know. We discussed it.”

“Was it romantic?  Did you kiss?  Did anything
naked happen?”

“It was horribly boring and no.” I’m starting
to like this opposite thing.

Gwen looks excited. “This is so much better
than my date!  Was it mind-blowing?  It had to be with someone like him.”

“What do you mean ‘someone like him’?  He’s a
guy like any other guy.”

“No. He’s a mysterious, reserved, apparently
uber romantic, sexy ex-rock star. That’s not any other guy.”

I smile. She’s right. “Well, if you put it that
way, it was awful. Hideous. Worst time of my life. You couldn’t pay me to do it
again.”

She squeals. Really, really loud. I catch
Latson’s eye from across the room. He stops talking to Felix and Kenzie, and
they all give us puzzled looks.  I stop cutting fruit and point at Gwen with
the knife. “Ssshhh!  People are staring at us!”

She slaps her hand over her mouth. “Sorry!”
comes out muffled.

I go back to slicing. “I’m glad you’re excited,
but the world doesn’t need to know.”

“I’ll try to contain my enthusiasm,” she says. “This
is really awesome news, though. I’m happy for both of you.”

“Thanks. It happened kind of fast.”

“Fast is better in my book,” Gwen says. “Life
is short. You should live it up while you can.”

I slide a chopped lemon to one side of the
cutting board and then look at her. “I hope you’re right.”

During our shift, business is steady, but not
overwhelming. Gwen and I talk in short bursts, until she falls silent because
of her pain. She looks like she hurts more and more as time goes on. By
midnight, I’m tired of watching her try to hide her grimaces and scowls.

“That’s it,” I say. “You need to go home.”

To my surprise, she doesn’t fight me. “You’re
right. It’s only getting worse. The medicine isn’t helping.”

“I’d say all the movement isn’t helping.”

She starts to hobble her way over to me. “I’ll
go tell the boss I’m done for the night.”

“No. I’ll go. You don’t need to walk any more
than necessary.” I crouch under the bar and come up on the other side. “I’ll be
right back.”

Gwen teases me. “Suuure. Use me to go see your
boyfriend.”

I smirk, then start to pick my way around
people, tables, and chairs. I head to the rear of the bar where Latson’s office
is located. As I knock and hear “It’s open,” I realize I’ve never been inside
before.

I crack the door and peek around the corner. “Hey.”

Latson looks up and smiles. “Hey.”

He’s wearing his glasses, and my stomach
flutters. My gaze leaves him for a moment to look around the office. It’s full
of the standard stuff, including the calendar for this month’s entertainment written
on a big white board. My eyes study the concert posters hanging on the walls
until they land on handmade drawings pinned to a bulletin board behind the
desk.

“Did Oliver make those?” I step inside and shut
the door behind me.

Latson looks over his shoulder. “Yeah.” He
faces me again. “Did you come to look at my art gallery?”

“No, but it’s a perk.” I walk over to get a
better view. I hesitate when I get next to his desk. I’m not sure if I should
go behind it. “Do you care if I –”

“Get over here.”

He stands and reaches for me, pulling me into
his arms. “I’ve been dying to touch you all night.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and snuggle
against him. “This violates the five foot rule.”

“It’s three, and I don’t see you complaining.”

I stifle a laugh. He runs his thumbs over my
lower back as we stand pressed together. I take a deep breath and inhale his
scent. “Why do you smell so damn good?” I ask. “It’s distracting.”

He kisses the top of my head. “I think you
answered your own question.”

His hand leaves my waist and removes his
glasses, then appears under my chin. I lift my face toward him and as soon as
our eyes meet, he lowers his mouth to mine. It’s a heated kiss, like we haven’t
seen each other in days, and I’m quickly forgetting the reason I came in here. It
doesn’t take long before his hands are in my hair and mine are digging into his
back through his ridiculous
I licked it
shirt. Latson’s hands travel to my
waist and he turns us, backing me against his desk. Gently, he lifts me up to
sit on the edge, and I wrap my legs around his hips to pull him close. Just as
my hands find the bottom of his shirt and slide underneath, the office door
opens.

“Hey!  I finally heard from –”

Dean’s excited voice echoes and I nearly jump
ten feet in the air. Latson catches me before I fall off the desk and laughs. “Dude.
Ever heard of knocking?”

“I’ve never had to before.” I can sense Dean’s
amusement. “I see things are progressing nicely. Hi, Jen.”

I turn my red-stained face toward Dean. “Hi.” I
start to stand.

“Don’t leave because of me,” he says. “Actually,
I’m glad I caught you two together.”

“What’s up?” Latson asks as he helps me hop
down.

“I finally heard from Roxanne. I’m in.” Dean’s
smile could light up a stadium.

“Yeah?” Latson leaves my side to give his brother
a high-five and pull him into a one-armed hug. “That’s great, man.”

“I got the first five months of the tour, the North
American leg.”

“You’re going on tour?” I move closer to the
guys. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I’m opening for Ariel.”

I remember the Wikipedia article and glance at
Latson. “As in Ariel Allyn?  Didn’t you two date?”

“A lifetime ago.” Latson wraps his arm around
my waist. “When do rehearsals start?”

“Next week. I’ve got Drew on drums and Paul on
bass.” Dean looks at me. “That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” I’m confused.

“I need the rest of my band.” He pauses. “I want
you on guitar. What do you say?”

“I …” I stutter.

There’s no way I heard him right.

“I’ve never played for an audience bigger than
a wedding.” I gesture toward Latson. “You want him, not me.”

“He won’t come.” Dean crosses his arms. “I asked
him months ago, when I first started working this gig. I asked him again the
night we played on stage. His answer was still no.”

“Why?” I look at Latson. He looks apprehensive,
possibly torn. “You should go.” I nudge him with my elbow. “You love to play.”

He shakes his head no. “I have Oliver. He
doesn’t need to live on the road.”

“It’s only five months, right?”

“You don’t …” He sighs. “I’m not traveling with
a seven-year-old, and I won’t leave him behind. He deserves better.”

Latson’s arm leaves my waist and he heads
behind his desk. Did I upset him?  I didn’t mean to.

“Jen.” Dean redirects my attention. “What do
you think?  How does touring sound?”

“I don’t …” Again with the stuttering. I don’t
understand why he would want me. I don’t know any of his songs. I’ve never
performed on stage. I own a used acoustic guitar. “I need some time to think
about it. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I get it.” Dean steps toward me. “But, keep in
mind, everyone has to start somewhere.” He pulls his phone from his pocket. “Why
don’t I send you the information and you can look it over?  What’s your email
address?”

I give it to him, along with my number. He
types them into his cell. “Check your email when you get home and let me know
if you have any questions. Rehearsals start in a week, so I need an answer soon.
Within twenty-four hours, if you can manage it. If you say no, I need to go to
Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?”

“Begging.”

My forehead pinches. “Begging?  As in begging
me?”

“I really want you to say yes. You’re good, and
I don’t say that lightly. When I heard you play before my show I knew. Then, at
Gunnar’s, you nailed it. You can do this. You
should
be doing this. Not
bartending.”

Wow. I’m just about to thank him for his compliment
when Gwen limps through the open door. “Did you forget about me?”

Aw, crap. “I’m sorry. I got caught up.” I turn
around to face Latson. “I came in here to tell you that Gwen needs to go home. She’s
in a ton of pain.”

He nods, his eyes never leaving the paper in
his hands. “Let me know if you can make it in tomorrow,” he says.

“I will. Thanks.” Gwen looks at me. “Maggie is
covering for us, so ...”

“I’m right behind you,” I say and start to
leave. I glance at Dean. “I’ll let you know soon. Thanks for the opportunity.”

“You’re welcome.”

As soon as I’m out the door I hear Latson’s
voice snap. “Thanks a lot, asshole. You could have told me you were going to
ask her.”

Dean’s voice bites back. “She deserves it.”

“I agree, but we just started –”

“Jen.”

My eyes jump to Gwen.

“Come on.” She waves me forward. “Maggie’s
going to kill us.”

I nod and pick up my pace.

~~~~

The ride home with Latson is quiet. He seems
lost in his own world, so I don’t say anything. I know he’s not happy with
Dean, but it’s not my place to question him. Especially since I overheard what
was said.

With nothing else to do, I stare out the window
and contemplate going on Dean’s tour. I imagine accepting his offer. I have to
admit it gives me the good chills. It also makes me nervous as hell. I have to
be the least qualified person to round out his band. What makes him think I
won’t embarrass him?  I guess if I’m terrible at rehearsals he could let me go.
The idea of being fired from a job I was handpicked to fill makes me feel a
little leery. Trying and failing would be a nightmare.

But, then again, at least I could say I tried.

By the time Latson pulls into our building I’ve
decided on one thing: to read Dean’s email. Talking in circles is useless, and I
need all the facts before making a decision. When Latson parks and turns off
the engine, I reach for my bag, then the door handle. “Thanks for the ride
home.”

He gives me half a smile and then holds out his
hand. I set my bag down and thread my fingers through his. “Thanks for letting
me pout.”

“Why are you pouting?”

“Because you’re going to say yes.” He runs his
thumb over the back of my hand. “You’re going to leave.”

I tip my head and scrutinize him. “What makes
you so sure?”

“Because I won’t let you stay.”

I frown.

“C’mere.” He pulls me closer by pulling on my
hand. I slide over next to him, but it’s not good enough. With some
maneuvering, I end up sitting in his lap, facing him.

“You have too much talent to let this pass you
by,” he says. “Didn’t you say you were tired of tending bar?  It’s time to be a
rock star.”

I laugh. “That’s stretching it a little, don’t
you think?”

“Nope.” He runs his hands over my arms. “You’ll
be great.”

I lean forward and hold my face inches from his.
“I still think you should go.”

“Jen, I –”

“I understand about Oliver,” I cut him off. “I
do. But, other people tour, and they have families. It’s five months.”

“Remember that when you’re missing me.” He
gives me a gentle kiss, then rests his forehead against mine. “I have more
reasons than Oliver for saying no.”

“Such as?”

He sighs and lets his hands fall to my thighs. He
leans back against the seat and looks out the window. “Audrey.”

I set my palms against his chest and wait for
him to explain.

“I won’t put myself in a position to re-live
the past,” he says. “Too many things would be the same.”

He looks like he wants to say more, but changes
his mind. I wonder if he’s talked to anyone about his sister. I doubt his past
comes up when he’s hanging out with Pete and the guys. I lean forward to get
his attention and softly ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He runs his fingers in circles on my legs. “What’s
there to talk about?  My sister died on our second tour. I can barely escape
the memory without my music. It would be impossible to shake if I went with
Dean.”

My breath catches. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t be.” Latson’s sad eyes find mine. “What
happened has nothing to do with you.”

My gut tells me he’s wrong. “I think it does.” I
sit up straight. “We’re together, right?”

He nods, yet looks confused.

“Then your hurts are mine. Just like if I were
upset. Wouldn’t you want to make me feel better?”

“I would.”

“See?” I lean toward him and set my hands on
either side of his face. “Listen to me. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what losing
Audrey was like for you and your family.”

Latson sighs and gives me another soft kiss. “Thank
you.”

“Any time.”

He covers my hands with his and moves them to
his chest. “I wish I could go back,” he says. “There are days when I question
everything. You should know that about me, for when I act like an ass again. Because
it’s going to happen, just like it did at the hospital.”

I squeeze his fingers. “Not if I can help it. What
are you second guessing?”

He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “You don’t want
to know.”

“I do.”

“There’s no fixing the past.”

“True, but you can feel better about it.” I
decide to share my own revelation. “Take my ex, Derek, for example. He was a
massive mistake. Huge. But I feel better about what happened because he led me
here. Had things not happened the way they did, I’d be four hours away dating a
lying bastard. You and I would never have met.”

Latson raises an eyebrow. “Is it wrong to be
happy he was a lying bastard?”

“Not at all.” I smile. “Now, tell me one of
your regrets.”

He gives me a resigned look. “I don’t think –”

I bring my face close to his. “Tell me.”

“Okay,” he concedes. “Fine.” He looks at our
hands. “I regret asking Audrey to manage the band.”

My stomach knots. “Because of what happened?”

“Because she had a degree in finance and was headed
to New York City. If I hadn’t asked her to manage us instead of money, Heidi
wouldn’t have introduced her to Levi. She wouldn’t have started using, and
she’d be here right now.”

My eyes grow wide. “So, yes, then.”

He sighs. “She should have gone to Wall Street.
Instead, she got in Dean’s beat-up Chevy with me.”

“Hold on,” I say and sit back. “Did you force her
into the car against her will?”

“No.”

“Then it wasn’t your choice. It was hers.” I
tip my head. “You guys were successful. You got a record deal. That’s nothing
to regret.”

Latson looks like he doesn’t buy it. “It’s not
that simple. There’s more to it.”

“I’m sure there is. Maybe you should tell me.”

He grimaces. “Not today.”

Just then, his phone sounds. I pull my hands
from his and shift my weight to the side so he can get it out of his pocket. “It’s
Dean.” He reads the message: “Tell your woman to check her email.” His eyes
light up. “I like the sound of that.
Your woman,
” he repeats.

I try not to smile, but fail. I like being
called his. However, I wish Dean wouldn’t have interrupted us. I want Latson to
share more of his past, to get it off his chest. I feel like he hasn’t talked
about it enough.

“Where’s your phone?” he asks and grabs my ass,
feeling around the pockets. “Let’s see what Dean sent.”

I twitch and laugh. “Hang on.” Leaning over, I
find my bag and pull it up on the passenger seat. I root around for my cell. “You
seem excited about this. Or are you faking?”

“It’s a great opportunity.” Latson doesn’t answer
my question. “You deserve to play, and people deserve to hear you.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not so sure they should
pay to see me. What if I embarrass Dean?”

“That won’t happen.”

“How do you know?”

“Because music is a part of you. You love it
too much.”

I find my phone and open my email. There are a
few messages from Dean. “Which one should we look at first?  ‘Schedule’ or
‘Details’?  Or ‘Sorry, here’s some more I forgot?’”

“Doesn’t matter. Pick one.”

His hands move to my thighs as I open the most
recent message. “Sorry, there’s one more thing I forgot,” I read aloud. “Please
say yes.” I give Latson a confused look. The message is followed by a bunch of
worried smiley emoji’s.

“Jesus,” he groans. “He’s already resorted to
Plan B.”

I shake my head. “Let’s try Details.” I touch
the screen. “Here we go.” I lean forward so Latson and I can read the email together:

Jen –

I’ll try to break everything down. Basically
the tour runs from late June until mid-November. We’ll be opening for Ariel,
but you already know that. If you’re not familiar with her music, I would
suggest some quality listening time. You never know what she may want to talk
about, and it’s always a good idea to be friendly with the headliner.

I stop reading and look at Latson. “You were
friendly with her,” I tease.

He squeezes my legs. “Stop. That was years
ago.”

I turn back to Dean’s email.

Speaking of music, I know you’re not familiar
with mine. Attached you will find the MP3 files for all ten of my songs. We
only have 30 to 45 minutes each night before Ariel, depending on the venue. Each
one is different. Regardless, we’ll need to do around eight songs per set. I
would recommend downloading the files to your phone or iPod, to listen before
rehearsals.

I make a face and think
well, duh.

The label will cover our travel expenses like
transportation and room & board. I hope you like busses and hotels. Some
food may be covered; it depends what we’re attending. You will get paid $200
per show. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but with 63 shows on the schedule,
it adds up.

“Sixty-three shows?” My mouth falls open. “Is
that normal?”

Latson nods. “If you’re in front of someone
like Ariel, yeah.”

I do the quick math. That’s over twelve grand. Twelve
thousand dollars in five months to play guitar?  With basically no expenses?  I
hate to say I’m driven by money, but I’m starting to really like this idea.

“Let’s look at the schedule,” Latson interrupts
my thoughts.