Rock Star (3 page)

Callie looked up at him quizzically. “Why is there a big syringe across your picture? What are they trying to say? Are y’all into drugs or something?”

“I—uh,” Bryan started to speak, unsure of how much information he wanted to share with a total stranger. Yet he somehow instinctively trusted Callie and was sure that he could confide his secrets to her. Then his stomach growled loudly. He recovered quickly. “Tell you what. Join me for lunch, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Callie was surprised. “Lunch?”

Bryan nodded, “You know, the meal that comes between breakfast and dinner.”

“Well, I don’t usually go out for lunch. The store is open from nine o’clock until five-thirty, so I just grab a quick bite in the break room.”

“Hell, that’s got to be a violation of the Geneva Convention or something. You mean you never leave during store hours?” Bryan asked in mock astonishment.

“I don’t think the Geneva Convention covers bookstores, and of course I leave the store, but I get Tonya to cover,” Callie responded, getting increasingly nervous about the direction this conversation was taking.

Bryan groaned as if in excruciating pain. “Look, Callie, the lady at the supermarket down the street told me that the little restaurant next door has the best soup in the state. I was really looking forward to trying it while looking at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…Couldn’t you in the name of humanity simply sit and eat with a starving man?”

Callie giggled in spite of herself. She was nervous about the idea of having lunch with this guy, but on the other hand, it would only be next door. How dangerous could that be? Besides, she really wanted to hear his story. She couldn’t believe that she, of all people, was getting all giddy over a man, and a rock star at that. But he was really nice, with a dry, self-deprecating sense of humor. She’d always been a sucker for a wry wit. While to a grown woman his being a rock star was a bit distasteful, she couldn’t resist hearing more about him.

Cutting off all thoughts of felines slain by inquisitiveness she replied, “Okay, but first…” She moved within a hairsbreadth of him and looked up directly into his eyes, trying to discern any hint of glassiness or other symptoms of drug use, though she wasn’t entirely sure what they were. “You need to answer one question.”

Bryan inhaled her light citrus scent, enjoying the close proximity. Of course he knew exactly what she was concerned about. “No, Callie, I’m not on any illegal substance of any kind.” He raised two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

Callie raised a brow. “Were you ever a Scout?”

“Kicked out when I was twelve. But that time was two of the best weeks of my life.” He shoved his sleeves up. “See, no track marks either. Of course, I’ll be more than happy to let you give me a full-body inspection.” He leered, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Callie shook her head and gave him a helpless grin. “Pervert! I’ll just ask Tonya to come down.” She walked over and punched the intercom on the counter. “Tonya, I need to go out for lunch. Can you come down and cover for me?”

“Go out to lunch?” Tonya questioned. “But you have your lunch right up here.”

Callie sighed at her friend’s nosiness. “Look, I received an invitation to lunch. Can you come down?”

Tonya rushed down the stairs, almost tripping in her haste. She was brought up short when she saw Bryan standing near the counter. She inclined her head at him. “Hello, Bryan.” Turning to Callie she asked, “Is he your lunch date?” Callie nodded. Tonya raised both brows. “Well, see you two later. Have fun.” She waved, a sly smile on her face.

Granny’s was crowded as usual, but Callie and Bryan managed to find a small table in a back corner. Like all the buildings in downtown Maple Fork, it had a charming exterior of aged red brick. The trim around its front windows was painted a cheerful bubble-gum pink. No one had ever bothered with signage on the door. It was unnecessary; everybody in town knew where Granny’s was. The space had been expanded due to the restaurant’s popularity, and now it encompassed two store spaces and had approximately thirty tables. The interior was painted bright apple green, and floral prints hung on the walls. The blue and white checkered tablecloths added to the old-fashioned ambiance. True to the name, it actually looked like a grandmother’s kitchen. Callie inhaled deeply as they entered the restaurant, hoping against hope that Granny was serving her favorite beef vegetable soup and carrot raisin bread. The tempting aroma of home-baked bread and sweet, locally grown vegetables greeted her, and she smiled with pleasure. The fact that Granny only served one menu item per day was a running joke in Maple Fork, and no one ever knew what that item would be. Granny herself was a political powerhouse in the county. No one got elected to any office without her say-so, and you were likely to run into any number of politicians in the restaurant. Even the governor made a beeline for Granny’s when he was in the area and had brought the vice president in during his campaign swing through the state. His aide had been rebuffed when he tried to demand that the restaurant be reserved for the special occasion. Granny didn’t do those kinds of favors. The vice president had to take his chances just like the rest of Granny’s loyal clientele.

Callie slid into a hardwood, straightback chair. Like everything else at Granny’s, the chairs and tables were simple and plain. The food was the main event. “You know, we’re very lucky that Granny opened today.”

Bryan did likewise, leaning in closer to be heard over the din of the crowd. “What do you mean?” He paused. “You mean there really is a Granny?”

Callie laughed dismissively.“Bryan, you’re not in L.A. anymore. Of course there really is a Granny, but she doesn’t exactly keep regular hours. She only opens when she feels like it.”

“How the hell does she stay in business like that?” Bryan asked.

Callie nodded at his bowl. “Taste your soup.” Bryan did so, and an expression of ecstasy crossed his face.

“Any questions?” Callie asked, laughing at the look on his face. “And if you think that’s good, taste the carrot raisin bread.” Bryan did so, groaning in appreciation of the gastronomic delight.

“Who is this woman? My God, she’s a goddess of all things culinary!” he exclaimed.

“That’s what everybody says.” She leaned toward Bryan and whispered conspiratorially, “And every now and then, if we’re really, really good, we get apple pear pie.”

Bryan enjoyed this bit of silliness from Callie. Watching her full, sensuous lips purse as she spoke, he couldn’t help envisioning those lips pressed against his own. Knowing the impact that train of thought would have on his body, Bryan focused on the conversation at hand. He widened his eyes and leaned in closer to Callie, raising his hand so that other diners couldn’t see what they were saying. “And who do we have to kill for this privilege?” he whispered back.

Callie leaned back in her chair laughing helplessly. “According to Granny we only get pie when we deserve pie. Unfortunately, no one knows what it is that makes us deserve such an honor. Trust me, if we did, we’d do it every day.” Bryan joined her in laughter as she shared additional anecdotes about the eccentric creator of the best food he’d ever tasted.

Eventually they sobered, and Callie gave him a questioning look to see if he was ready to start answering questions.

Bryan nodded. “Okay, look, I’m a musician, in a band called Storm Crow.”

Callie nodded, making a motion with her hand for him to continue.

“About four months ago, my best friend, Brodie…” Bryan paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. He took a deep breath and rushed out, “Brodie died from a heroin overdose.”

Callie was stunned. As far as she knew, none of her friends or acquaintances had ever used drugs, and she had never known anyone personally who’d died from substance abuse. She realized, however, that it was commonplace in the music industry. During the early to mid-1990s, rock stars had died of heroin overdoses at an astonishing rate, but it was an almost inconceivable concept to her. She placed her hand over Bryan’s on the table. “Oh, Bryan, I’m so sorry.” She paused as she saw a sheen of tears in those stormy eyes. “We don’t have to talk about this; it’s really none of my business.”

Bryan was momentarily distracted by the softness of Callie’s hand on his own. Although he was a very tactile person, such an innocent touch had never given him shivers down his spine. Wanting to prolong the sensation, he turned his hand upwards to grasp hers.

“No, it’s okay, I want to tell you about it.” He paused for a moment, startled to realize that he really did want to share this with her. Normally he had no interest in talking about his personal life with anyone. He rested his chin on his other hand while still holding hers. “Anyway, since Brodie died, I’ve been out of it. Acting a damned fool, as B.T. would say.” He attempted a smile.

“What have you been doing?” Callie asked, concerned about possible drug use, despite his disavowal of it.

“Not what you’re thinking, I’m sure. For the record, I don’t do drugs at all, okay? Actually, I lead a pretty healthy lifestyle. Our bassist’s girlfriend owns a holistic health store, and she has all of us on a pretty strict regimen of diet and exercise. I mean, I messed around with it when I was younger, but I learned pretty quickly that it’s not for me.”

He inhaled sharply as he thought about how awful the past few months had been. “Mainly I was crashing cars and getting into fights.”

Callie’s eyes teared. “Bryan, I’m so sorry. That must have been horrible for you.”

Bryan sighed heavily. “It’s getting better.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Much better.”

Callie suddenly became aware that Bryan still held her hand. She could feel vibrations from the contact, and the warmth tantalized her. Carefully sliding it free, she nervously picked at a piece of bread. Bryan didn’t break his gaze, and finally Callie looked away. She suddenly became aware of the hubbub in the crowded restaurant. Still feeling out of her element, she stared blindly at the floral prints on the walls. Bryan leaned back in his chair and smiled cannily. He understood that he was getting to her and was pleased with the results.

“Well, anyway, B.T. got pissed with me and really reamed me out good. He told me to get out of town and gave me a plane ticket and keys to the cabin where I’m staying. I can’t go back until he tells me I can.”

“Good grief, was it that bad?” Callie asked, distracted from her perusal of the room.

“I pay B.T. an obscene amount of money to watch the bottom line for me, and he’s convinced it’s pretty bad. Plus, he thinks it would interfere with his big plans for a movie career for me.”

“Movie career? Are you going to be in a movie?” Callie was surprised. She knew that a lot of musicians had ambitions in that direction, but Bryan hadn’t seemed the type.

“Hell, no,” he replied emphatically. “From watching some of my friends make movies and television shows, I know I would go crazy with boredom. All I want to do is play music, period. But of course, convincing B.T. of that is another story. Actually, I think the old boy was just worried about me ending up dead or in jail, and wanted to give me a chance to get myself together. Hell, we’re expected to wreck cars and get in fights.”

“Yeah, you hear about that every day almost, but it’s probably for the best that you got out of town for a while.”

“Yeah, I agree.” He paused for emphasis, then said, “Now.”

Callie looked up and got trapped in those eyes again. I’ve really got to stop letting this guy get to me, she thought. The man is a rock star. He probably eats girls like me for…At that thought she got a very scandalous visual and lowered her eyes, totally discomfited.

Bryan, having no idea where her thoughts had wandered, enjoyed watching her squirm in her chair. Finally he decided to put her out of her misery. “Well, I guess it’s about time for you to get back to the store, huh?”

Callie looked down at her wrist. “Oh my God, I’ve been gone an hour and a half.” She stood up brushing invisible crumbs off her clothes. “Tonya’s going to kill me.”

“I guess I’ll take off then. Are Mondays usually less busy in the store?”

They moved rapidly towards the front of the restaurant, oblivious to the questioning looks of the other patrons as Bryan paid their check. “Usually Mondays and Tuesdays are slow days,” Callie replied distractedly.

“Okay, I’ll make sure I come see you on those days. Never let it be said that I interfered with the pursuit of capitalism.”

Callie stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at her companion, but he had already walked over to his big, black truck. With a jaunty wave, he bid her goodbye.

Callie rushed breathlessly back into the shop to face a beaming Tonya.

“How did your lunch go?” Tonya asked.

Callie stood in front of the counter, a puzzled expression on her face. “I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?”

“I mean, I really enjoyed lunch. Bryan seems like a decent enough guy, and he was an interesting lunch companion.”

“So what part aren’t you sure about?”

“It’s nothing; I’m sure he wasn’t serious,” Callie replied, strolling over to straighten the magazine rack. Lunchtime customers always made a mess as they looked for magazines to enjoy with their meal.

Tonya followed her. Crossing her arms across her chest, she asked, “Serious about what?”