Relentless Rhythm (Tempest #4) (7 page)

“Dizzy Lowell.”

I instantly tensed in response to the familiar, authoritative voice. I closed the last latch on my SG case and turned around without delay.

In a no nonsense suit and skyscraper high heels, Mary Timmons, the CEO of Black Cat Records stood in the open studio doorway Justin had just flown out of on his way to pick up Bridget’s son. The Queen was total badass. She intimidated the hell out of everyone. Though I found confidence like hers sexy in a woman, I usually steered clear of her type. They asked too many questions and demanded too many answers.

“Ms. Timmons,” I acknowledged respectfully. I stuffed my hands into my jacket pockets fidgeting with my keys. “How can I help you?”

Unwavering grey eyes took mine captive. I’d never been on the receiving end of one of her sizing-you-up stares. They were the stuff of urban legend. The reality was so much more unnerving than the myth.

I tried not to squirm under the intensity of her gaze. I swallowed as she continued her appraisal for an uncomfortable interval. When she broke the connection, I nearly sagged with relief.

“I like the new song. The melody’s appealing.” She entered the room and closed the soundproof door behind her. “Justin’s voice is much different than Warren’s, but it works well, don’t you think?”

I nodded.

“Good. I’m glad.” Her head tilted to an inquiring angle. “I understand there’s still some friction between him and Mr. Jackson?”

“I guess so.”
Fucking shit
. She was startlingly perceptive and impressively direct. I wasn’t keen to throw my bandmate under the bus, but I didn’t think acknowledging what everyone already knew was giving too much away.

Her lips pressed together briefly. “What about your recent conversation with Tempest’s former lead singer?”

What. The. Bloody. Hell?

How did she know I’d talked to War?

Her hands moved to her elegantly suited hips when I didn’t immediately answer. For the first time I noted the absence of a wedding ring on her left hand. There was a lot of speculation about her relationship status. Some thought there might be more than just simple friendship between her and the company’s top PR woman, Beth Tate. I didn’t know and didn’t really care one way or the other. But a heated meeting that my sister had witnessed between Queen Mary and Charles Morris, the king of Zenith Productions, War’s current label, had the two of us drawing an entirely different conclusion.

“Well?”

“What of it?” I held my ground even as her eyes rained down pewter fire. I couldn’t see how it mattered to her anymore, and in spite of all that had happened, I still felt a measure of loyalty to Warren.

She took a couple of steps toward me, her stilettos clicking angrily on the wood. A hint of high dollar fragrance wafted in the space between us. Somewhere in the back of my mind it registered that though she was older than me, and my boss, she was a woman, and actually a quite attractive one, especially when she was angry.

“This is my record label. You work for me, kiddo.”

Bloody hell
. She was almost a foot shorter than I was, but she suddenly seemed to tower over me.

“Everything that relates to Tempest—past, present, and future is my business. And I make it a habit not to leave any loose ends unraveled. So, I’m going to get the information one way or another, but I’d appreciate it if you made my job easier by telling me what I need to know.”

“He’s in Mexico. Cabo, I think.” My fingers tightened around the key fob in my pocket. “Tremors. Nausea. He’s in bad shape. Went off of everything on his own. Cold turkey. No tapering. Sounded like shit the last time we talked. That the info you needed?” I raised my studded brow.

“Thanks for your
candor
, Mr. Lowell.”

Probably should have stowed the sarcasm. The fire had turned to ice. I wondered if the deep freeze meant I’d lost all my brownie points I’d earned post compliance.

She lifted a cell to her ear, a thoughtful crease forming between her narrowed eyes as she stared through me. “Beth. Tell Reese at Atlas Security that Warren’s in Cabo. I want a man on him. Tell him I want to know if Morris so much as…” She stopped speaking, blinked a couple of times as if she’d just remembered I was still there right in front of her.

“It hasn’t escaped my notice that you’re the most level headed member of the group, Mr. Lowell. You need to remember that we’re on the same side. We have the same goals. We both want to see Tempest succeed. You keep on track and help Justin learn the ins and outs, and I guarantee the band will make it, and that you’ll make it bigger than any of you ever dreamed possible.”

“Oh, Mel.” My throat tightened as I approached her. She was near Black Cat Record’s garage entrance, sitting on the concrete, her head on her drawn knees, her form nearly completely camouflaged in the shadows. I would never have known she was there except that she’d called me, and even then I would’ve walked right past her except for that shock of blue hair.

I sank down beside her, the chill of the ground cutting right through my jeans, but I ignored the discomfort. “What happened this time?”

She lifted her head, wet ebony ribbons staining both cheeks. “The same old shit. He never listens to me. He’s never going to let me live my life.”

I slid an arm around her shoulder, curling my fingers into her soft hair, tucking her head under my chin, and kissing the top. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffed. “It’s alright.” She said the words, but I knew she didn’t mean them. Her dad’s refusal to let her pursue her dream was a long standing source of contention. It was driving a wedge between them, and I feared if something didn’t change soon it would end up tearing them apart permanently.

I didn’t want that for either of them. He was a good father, but was extremely protective, and his free spirited daughter yearned to escape those bonds.

“You know it’s only because he loves you. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I know,” she whispered lifting her head. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “It’s just that I have enough points now. If I win the race on Saturday or at least make the semis I could move up to the Noram circuit.”

“I realize that, Sweetie. But there’ll be other opportunities. Don’t give up. He’ll come around.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’ve kept my grades up, helped with the band. I’ve done everything he asks, but he still hasn’t budged.”

“He got really scared when you got that concussion six months ago,” I reminded her.

“But that was different. I was on a mountain bike.”

“You know but it’s all the same in his mind,” I said gently.

“Hurtling down the mountainside at a million miles an hour is not a sport,” she mimicked the tilt of his chin and the cadence of his voice perfectly. “It’s a death sentence, Bluebelle.”

I opened my mouth, a speech about patience on the tip of my tongue, when the glass door behind us suddenly flew open. Warmth from inside and a blistering curse from a familiar voice sliced through the air at the same time. We both turned.

“Diz.” Mel leapt to her feet furtively wiping her stained face on her sleeve.

“Bluebelle,” he returned the irritated expression on his face changing to one of surprise, the fingers on the pull of his black leather jacket zipper stilling. “What’s going on? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” His sexy velvety voice seemed more potent in the quiet setting. More intimate. More unsettling.

Shit.
Was I developing some kind of damsel in distress crush on him just because he rescued me? I gave myself a mental shake to snap the hell out of it.

Mel’s chin dropped. I rose to my feet next to her, leaving space to watch the drama unfold. He stepped closer to her, his eyes on her face narrowed with concern. Surprising. In my experience men usually ran in the opposite direction when crying was involved.

Diz lifted her chin with a ringed thumb, his golden gaze intensely focused. “He said no, huh?”

My brows crashed into my hairline.
She’d told him about the stuff with her dad?

“Yes,” she admitted softly.

“Well, fuck it, then.” His gaze flicked to me as if he knew I’d disapprove of his next words. “I say do it anyway.” He put both his hands on her shoulders, and I stared, wondering what that felt like having those strong masculine fingers touching your body. “You’re nineteen. That’s legal age in BC, isn’t it? What’s he gonna do?”

I frowned. I did disapprove. This wasn’t good advice, but as soon as he said the words I watched Mel’s jaw set into a determined line. Anything I said to the contrary was going to fall on deaf ears.

“Will you come watch me?” She fluttered her eyes at him.

I sighed.

She must’ve heard me. She turned her head. “You, too, April.”

“I can’t, Sweetie. I’m sorry. It’s on a Saturday night. I’ve got to work and besides, I wouldn’t be able to stay overnight like I’d need to. James would never go for that.”

“You could give Ryan your shift. He’s always wanting extra hours.” She grabbed one of Dizzy’s hands and skipped over to me taking one of mine, too. Now that she had the idea in her head she was running with it. I could practically feel her excitement crackling along the connection we three shared.

She looked back and forth between Dizzy and me. “I really need both my friends to be there.”

“Sure,” Dizzy agreed without hesitation, surprising me once again. “I’d love to see you in action.”

Mel’s eyes glowed like multifaceted sapphire suns. She was practically supernova with delight. She didn’t even try to play it cool. She turned her fiery eyes on me. “April, please come.”

I pulled in a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“James is usually really busy on Saturday. You’ve told me that before. You work really late, too. He won’t even expect you home till four in the morning, right? The competition will be over long before then. You could probably even go to the after party for a while and still get home before he does. He doesn’t even have to know. We just need to find someone to drive you back.”

“I’ll do it.” Mesmerizing amber eyes ringed with thick lashes captured mine. “I’ll have my car, and I need to get back into town early anyway. It’d be no problem. For me I mean, if you think you can go.”

He didn’t think I’d do it. I could tell. I could hear the challenge in his voice, see the dare in his eyes. Then he arched his studded brow really ratcheting up the pressure and putting me on the spot. He didn’t think I had it in me to defy my husband and most of the time he’d have been right. But this was for Mel, and I so wanted to remove that expression on his face that said he thought he had me all figured out.

“Sure,” I found myself saying, the pre-James April blinking her sleep filled eyes and awakening from her slumber. “If Ryan can cover for me, I’ll go. It’ll be fun.”