This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad (12 page)

BOOK: This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad
3.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She smiles.
“That she is.” she turns and faces me. “An amazing one.” She gets up. “He’s leaving tomorrow afternoon, so I guess I’ll be heading back to LA as well.”


There you are!” Lucia says behind us and quickly moves over to her friend. “I called for reinforcement. We’re having a girls’ night.”

Beesly smiles, a nice, warm, happy smile.
“But Matt –”


He’s leaving later tonight,” Lucia reveals. She turns to me. “A real class act.”             


What?” Beesly and I both say. He was supposed to leave tomorrow. A class act indeed. And, of course, Lucia is the one breaking the news.


I need to talk to him. Where is he?”

Lucia shrugs.
“Recording with Lee before heading back to the hotel.”

Really?
More recording? His meeting upstairs didn’t go too well.


Which songs?” I ask Lucia.


One of mine and a couple of yours,” she absently tells me – Okay, I get it, Lucia. You’re pissed off – “Anyway, Marcus can take care of it. You and I are going to lunch and pack your things. You’re staying with me. Think of it as a vacation away from LA.”


Luce…” Beesly says, hugging her. There are too many female’s emotions going on for my comfort. But it’s nice to see Beesly opening up to someone that’s not Matt for a change.


We’re soul sister remember! Wait until you meet Noor,” she adds. “My apartment is not a penthouse, but I have a spare room with its own en suite. It’s cozy. Ask Marcus.”

Bloody hell! Did she just say that? Beesly shoots me a que
stioning gaze and Lucia simply waits for my stamp of approval.


Her place is very homey, very nice indeed. And Noor is…” I answer, looking Lucia straight in the eyes.


See! Straight from the horse’s mouth,” she says. “Let’s go. We’ll talk on the way,” she adds, taking her hand.


Thank you, Luce,” Beesly finally says and they both leave the room. Time to speak to Matt and know what the hell is going on.

 

Matt signals me as soon as he notices my presence in the studio. I think he wants me to press the intercom. When he sees that I’m not doing it, he leaves the room. He’s all jolly and excited when he enters the studio. I guess leaving your ball and chain behind is supposed to make you feel this way.


Smoke break?” he asks.

Why does he look so happy? It
’s pissing me off.


I don’t smoke and I don’t need a break.” I open the door. “We need to talk, Matt.” I tilt my head to Lee. “In private.”


Alright. Let’s go then.”


We’ll be back in bit, Lee,” I tell him and close the door.

We silently walk to the elevator. Matt turns to me and tries on a smile. No, mate! Not what I feel like doing. I think he
’s finally realizing that something is wrong. By the time we get to my office, he has his famous game face on. It’s show time.


Love the songs, mate. And Lee was doing a fantastic job there,” he says.


Are you joking? Lucia and I wrote those for you weeks ago and you couldn’t stand them!”

He seems surprised.
“Must be the new arrangements – you or Lee.”

Seriously?
“No, no changes; just you being a bigger dick thank usual.” I walk closer to him. “The biggest you have ever been. Are you going completely mad?”


Listen, about Beesly –”


Stop, Matt! You beg me to come here and save your precious album. You’re jerking us around for weeks and then you decide to go off to become an actor! And with all this you can’t even bring your own wife. She was crying; you made her cry for no reason! So just stop!”

Matt stares me down for a while before saying,
“Is this about Lucia?”


You mean the only person who gave a damn and has been taking all your crap like a pro, while I’ve been hiding behind friendship? She booked the G Band for you,” I tell him.


Yeah, Marcus, she did her job. Wow, I thought you already shagged her,” he smirks back.

I may have deserved that one, but Lucia didn
’t. “You are a real class act. She’s taking your wife in. You know, taking care of her while you’re in Vancouver doing God-knows-what with Linda.”

A very confused Matt takes out his phone. Ringing Beesly, I presume.
“Where the bloody hell are you?” he asks. I can hear Beesly’s voice and see his expression changing. “Why? You could stay at the hotel…or go back to LA… Beesly, this is a no. I don’t want you to… Beesly?… Beesly?” he shuts off his phone. “She fucking hung up on me!” He yells. Uh-oh. His hands are shaking; he’s dialing the number again. Nothing! She must have turned off her phone. She’s coming back here anyway. “That’s
her
fault!” he tells me. “She turned her against me.”


By caring about her when you only cared about yourself?” I say. I shake my head; pure denial. “It’s just never your fault.”


That little –”


Shut the fuck up, Matt, and grow up!” I tell Matt. I walk to the door and open it. “This will be our last time working together. No more rescuing.” I leave the office with Matt walking behind me. We stop in front of the elevator. “You messed up! Fix it! But leave Lucia out of it…mate,” I say as the elevator doors are opening.

 

“Would you quit staring!” Lucia tells me for the fifth time today. She presses her fingers to her forehead. This is the third time in the past week that she’s shown up with what appears to be a hangover. What have she and Beesly been up to? And what’s with the thick Londoner accent? And all I can say about her hair is that it’s a sexy mess, covering her face on and off, and she hasn’t even bothered to put makeup on, which is kind of refreshing really, to see her face like that.


Marcus!”


You’re freaking me out, okay,” I finally tell her. I give her back her lyrics with my notes on them. “What’s with the accent? Even when you say my name.”

She moves her hair away from her face and sits back in her office chair. This is going to be a long meeting. But at least things have changed since the last time I was in here six weeks ago.

“I tend to slip back to my London accent during hangovers,” she says. She drinks part of her…I really don’t know what this mixture is supposed to be. “You should hear Noor. She sounds like a Notting Hill fishmonger. Didn’t you notice it that morning? It was brutal!”


Right…” I’m not sure what to say about that. I read the rest of the file she emailed me. We have recorded seven songs and even the G band have recorded their tracks. It has been a very productive week. We should be ready for more in a couple of weeks; just in time for Matt to come and save the day – or just make it worst. I look up again and Lucia is playing with her locket.


Seriously! Cut it out!” she shouts  when she catches me staring again. “I don’t look that horrible.”

She
’s just too cute and funny. And of course I just have to laugh, which makes it worse. I think she’s about to murder me now. “Horrible! Please don’t fish for compliments. You could never even be close to that word.”

She pushes the plate full of delicious macaroons towards me.
“You earned yourself another cookie.” She takes one as well. “Don’t flirt with hangover women, Marcus. That’s just desperate.”

I laugh while taking a cookie.
“Right. I’ll try to control myself. I’ll just knock on their door in the morning and…” I eat a mint flavor one. It just melts in my mouth and all the flavors explode in my head. How is she able to bake like that?


Do I need to leave you and the macaroon alone?” she says, bursting out laughing. But then she stops and grimaces. “It’s hurt to laugh. No more wine-tasting Sundays. Smashed is not a great color on me.”


Getting shit-faced on a Sunday? I thought you would be a good influence on Beesly,” I say. I keep reading her lyrics; they’re good. This ballad sounds more a song for Beesly, only no room for Matt there. He could play his guitar during the song. I’ll write him a nice solo or Lucita will.


Hey…It wasn’t my fault…this time. Noor came by –”


Do all your stories start this way?” I say with a small laugh. Noor – always the one to blame.


As I was saying,” she continues, ignoring my comment. “
Nooradine
came by with fabric samples for her bridesmaids.”


And they will be wearing different type of wines. Therefore, you tasted a few?”


Hush! We just opened a couple of bottles as we were talking about them. Beesly’s personal assistant sent her a couple of cases of vintage sauvignon blanc,” she adds. Her phone buzzes. “So one thing led to another… It’s really B’s fault.” She winks at me. Her phone buzzes again. She takes it out and responds while drinking the awful-looking mixture again.


Everything alright?”

She puts down the phone and smiles.
“Just Beesly. She’s upstairs with a few journalists and has a photo shoot later today. The thing about B is –”


She can drink like a fish but it doesn’t affect her,” I laugh. “Yes, I knew that. How did you think an American got herself a wild British boy like Matt?”


Bad Karma? She’s so tiny. Where does it all go?” she asks me and she looks like she’s expecting an answer. “I have to drink my detox shake just to make it through the day. It’s not fair,” she adds, looking at her sheets. “We did get a little trashed on Saturday while watching a few romantic comedies,” she finally murmurs.


Let me guess: Noor – no, Nooradine’s – idea?”


Sod off!” she yells back. “Anyway…do you like the song?” she wiggles her papers. “This is what this session is about.” She takes a final sip of the shake. “Not my oh-so-very-classy Monday look.”


The song’s great, but it’s a solo. Where’s Matt’s portion, if any?”


I didn’t feel like the song would translate well if sung by a daft prick,” she answers, very nonchalantly, I may add. “Maybe the next one.”

Matt didn
’t leave things in such a great state between him and Lucia – no apology, but that was no real surprise. Going to Lloyd and Callia about this was also a wrong move on his part and it didn’t accomplish anything. She’s the lead producer of Beesly & Matt, so he will have to work for them both. “Lucia…” I warn her.


I’ll say the next one, Marcus. So back off, alright?” she warns. Her phone rings this time. “I’m still in the middle of my brooding phase,” she adds before picking up.

Nice going idiot!
“I’ll shut up now.”


You do that,” she whispers back, covering her phone. “Hi, Kathie. Is it lunchtime already?” She raises an eyebrow. “I certainly need a… No… Really?” Now I want to know what’s going on too. Her facial expression has suddenly changed; she’s just lit up. She gets up, still on the phone. “I’ll be right down!” she says, ready to leave the room. “Greg is back!” she tells me all excited.


Greg?” I ask and follow her of her office. “No, really; who the fuck is that bloke?”

 

Gregory McMullan. I never made the connection before. Kathie McMullan, Callia and Lloyd’s executive assistant, is his younger sister. Who knew? Not me. I have could handle the hugs and kisses; Lucia has hugged almost everybody in this building at some point since I’ve been here. The oohs and the aahs were all girls’ chit-chat to me But Greg and Lucia didn’t hug. They embraced and he never completely let her go. I’m certain he’s still embracing her in the dance studio right now. I left. It’s a place for business and I have work to do. I was not jealous.

On her way down to meet him, in the elevator, I saw her checking herself in the mirrors for the first time today, trying to fix her hair, straightening out her white, cotton, knee-length tube dress. She seemed so happy. When we arrived in the dance studio, Lucia still hadn
’t told me who we were there to greet. She ran – yes, ran – toward a man next to Kathie: a tall, lean, but very fit bloke who looks a lot like McMullan, one of the best choreographers in the business. He smiled and almost laughed when he saw her.


Yeobo
[7]
!” he said then widely opened his arms to her. And then started the never-ending embrace with “his sweet”, as he called her.


You’re back early! What happened?” she asked him.


Lulu, have you indulged yourself in a bit binge drinking last night?” he asked and kissed her on the tip of her nose. “I’m sure Noor is ready to sell her fishes right now.”

They both laughed. Inside jokes
– fantastic! I’m not jealous. I got closer and said hello to Kathie then turned to Greg.

Other books

A King's Ransom by James Grippando
The Venetian by Mark Tricarico
Assorted Prose by John Updike
Colters' Gift by Maya Banks
The Black North by Nigel McDowell
Mixed Bags by Melody Carlson