| |
––––––––
SAFFRON OPTED TO CHANGE, so Brit stayed at Lonnie’s while Saffron ran back to her hotel.
Lonnie cleared his plate from the table and piled it next to the sink, where Barbara was rinsing dishes before they went into the dishwasher.
“I offered to let her stay here,” he said. “I have plenty of room, and I’d love to have her.”
“I offered up my place, too,” said Barbara. “We don’t have as much room with Abednego’s studio taking up the guest room, but we could make do. Brit, on the other hand, has a whole other unused bedroom in her apartment.”
Brit rolled her eyes. “I really don’t need that much awkwardness in my life. I know you both want us to bond, but if it happens, it’ll happen naturally. Don’t force it.”
Cord cleared his throat. “Vincent and Daisy.”
“Oh, you’re still here?” Brit scrunched her face at him.
“I was just leaving. Thanks for breakfast, Lonnie. It was really good. Good seeing you again, Barbara.” He waved at her. Then he brushed the small of Brit’s back. “Brit, see ya later.”
The fingers on her back sent an electric shock through her nervous system. Sometimes she could control herself around him, and it seemed like she would like to be friends with Cord. And other times, that weird jealousy flared up, and every glance and every touch felt like SOMETHING. It felt like maybe he didn’t think of her like another pretty girl to smile at, but maybe the ONLY pretty girl he wanted to smile at. And since he was nice to everyone, it felt important to have that role. To be the one that he wanted to be with most of all. She wanted to be the desire behind the smile. She thought. She wanted to be more than a friend. She thought. But she knew she didn’t want Saffron to be.
Whatever. It was time to meet J.J. Mack. Now him, Brit wasn’t confused about. Even before she met him, she knew they’d be a perfect couple. She would just have to talk to him, and him to talk to her. When she met J.J., she knew she’d get some clarity about the Cord situation.
Barbara left to go home, and her father left to take a shower, so Brit waited for Saffron outside instead of sitting inside and watching TV until she got back. It was a nice summer day, and Brit tipped her face up to the sky to welcome the sun on her skin. The sound of footsteps on cement made her crack her eyes open to find Saffron walking toward her. She had changed into a form-fitting striped mini T-shirt dress with a simple cross-body saddle bag purse. Her hair, which had been in a messy bun when she left breakfast was now down and bouncy around her shoulders.
“You look cute.” Brit couldn’t help it. It was a reflex.
“Thanks. I was meaning to tell you before how much I liked that dress. I don’t look good in maxi dresses, but you’re taller, so they work on you. The Greek goddess look.”
“I had a gold headband at home. Maybe I should’ve gone all the way.”
“Totally. Go with that instinct next time.”
Look at them. Shooting the shit and talking about clothes like any two girls would.
“What do you know about this J.J. Mack guy?” asked Saffron as Brit stood and led the way.
There was no point in getting in a car. Lander’s building was in an area packed with businesses and minimal street parking. Why pay for parking in a garage when they only had to walk less than a half mile? And they would pass several shops on the way. Brit didn’t mind window shopping.
Brit filled Saffron in on what she knew about his backstory and meager beginnings on YouTube until they saw Lander’s building. It was inconspicuous from the outside with glass revolving doors that could’ve belonged to any of the other office buildings on the block. Brit waited for the gasp from Saffron when she walked through the doors. It hit everyone.
Just as expected, Saffron breathed in audibly. “What, this place is poppin’! How did they even get that thing in here?”
She was referring to the giant, two-story black stone waterfall that greeted all the visitors. On either side of the waterfall were two glass elevators lit with running lights at the edges. At the base of the waterfall was a black and white marble reception desk. The girls’ sandals slapped against the marble-patterned flooring as they approached the desk—Brit’s steps quicker, and Saffron’s slow as she admired her surroundings.
“Hi Mei, is Lander’s meeting over? He asked us to come by.”
“Good morning, Brit,” Lander’s perky Asian receptionist greeted. She adjusted her headset over her ears and pointed her pen at Saffron. “And this is?”
“That’s Saffron, my...sister.” Brit swallowed the sour taste in her mouth after admitting the fact that they are related.
“Oh, I didn’t know you and Barbara had another sister! Great to meet you!” Mei dropped the headset from around her neck onto the desk and came around with her heels doing a tap dance as she shimmied in her tight leather mini skirt to give Saffron a hug. “Barbara is the absolute sweetest. Any family of hers or Lander’s is family of mine. Welcome to L-double-m!”
“Thank you?” It came out more like a question, and Saffron visibly stiffened at the hug from Mei. She offered Brit a questioning smile over Mei’s shoulder, and Brit did little more than shrug in response.
Brit wondered if this was what her life was going to be like with Saffron around. Everyone loved Barbara, but Brit couldn’t blame them. Not only was she tall and gorgeous, she had the personality to back it up. She could win a beauty pageant and Miss Congeniality. Brit was always considered the fashionable one with the good taste in music, which suited her perfectly at the club. In the real world, however, the magnetism of her sisters was a stark contrast against Brit’s dark style and standoffishness. Sure, she was nice and accommodating when she wanted to be. She just didn’t always want to be.
“Let me call Lander and see if he’s ready for you.” Mei straightened the headset over her dark layered hair again, streaks of which were dyed blond likely to hide the beginnings of gray.
“Sure, take your time. We’re not in a rush.”
Mei pressed a button on the phone, which beeped back at her. “Mr. Lander? Britnee and...”
“Saffron.”
“Britnee and Saffron are here to see you. Send them up? Alright.” Mei nodded and pointed to the elevator on the right. “Go on up, ladies. Britnee, you remember where his office is?”
“Yup, thanks Mei.”
“L-double-m?” asked Saffron when they were out of earshot.
“Lander Music Management.”
“Got it.”
Brit punched the up button and then hit the button for floor three once the glass doors eased closed behind them.
“Is this the only way up?” asked Saffron.
“Pretty much. I mean, there are stairs in case of a fire or whatever, but this is the only official way up, yes. Is there a problem?”
Saffron’s eyes darted around the small glass compartment. When the lift jolted to a stop, she clenched the handrail beside her. “Eh, elevators make me a little nervous.”
So Saffron did have a weakness after all. Not that Brit could or would use her slight fear of elevators against her. But it was good to know she wasn’t perfect at least.
The elevator opened into a hallway that went left and right, but the heavy double doors in front of them were their final destination that day. Brit had not been to all the rooms. She didn’t have much reason to wander, so she knocked on the large door in front of them and waited for a signal from inside.
“Come in,” Lander called.
Brit heaved the door open and passed through it first, holding it open for Saffron behind her. Again, Brit noticed Saffron’s look of approval as she surveyed the room for the first time.
“This is a pretty sweet office, Lander.”
“Hey, Saffron! A pleasure as always.” He stood, walked around his giant desk, and came to give each of the girls a crushing hug. “Good to see you too, Brit. I want to introduce you two to one of the newest members of the LMM family, my new little brother in music, J.J. Mack. Take a seat, ladies.”
Saffron beat Brit to it and took the remaining guest chair next to J.J. in front of the desk. Brit improvised by perching herself on an amp near the corner of the room. Lander had an over-sized beanbag chair in another corner of his office, but there was no way she was sinking into that.
J.J.’s big, dark round brown eyes watched her questioningly under dark brows, almost daring her to take the beanbag chair.
“J.J., these are my future sisters-in-law—Brit and Saffron.”
Brit melted into a puddle at his intense stare with his puppy dog eyes. Without taking his eyes off Brit, J.J. stood to so that the girls could admire him in his entirety. He had a boyish fullness to his cheeks and pouty lips. He was tall—taller than Lander, but maybe not quite as tall as Cord. His thick, floppy brown hair was pushed out of his eyes by a folded bandanna, and he wore what Brit guessed was his version of business casual. A baggy white polo shirt partially concealed a sleeve of tattoos that covered his left arm. Brit zeroed in on one in particular—a Dia De Los Muertos sugar skull near his elbow—until her eyes traveled back up to his face, passing over the fully unbuttoned collar with one side popped and one side laying flat. The haphazardness of the outfit continued to purposefully paint-flecked black jeans with a hole in the knee. It’s a good thing he was in this industry because he sure wouldn’t have gotten the job walking into any of the other office buildings in this area.
J.J. moved toward Brit, and Brit took his outstretched hand, her fingers making contact with the rings he wore, but otherwise she noticed the typical hands of a guitar player with the soft palm and calloused fingertips. She had shaken many of those hands in the past, but few gave her a jolt like this one did. But it wasn’t his hands. It was those eyes.
“Brit and Saffron are going to show you around. I’ll see you again after lunch. You kids have fun now, you hear?” Lander shooed them away and moved to sit back behind his desk as his phone beeped again with another message from his receptionist.
J.J. put his hand out to encourage the ladies to lead. Brit hung back to let Saffron go first. She couldn’t get lost anyway. The elevator was just outside the door. As they waited for the elevator, Brit tried to come up with what to say first. Lunch, right.
“So. J.J., are you hungry?”
J.J. pressed his hand into the elevator frame beside Brit. “Yeah, starved. I barely had time to brush my teeth before rushing out the door to meet with Lander.”
Their meeting had been at 10:30 a.m., but that was another thing with rock stars. Many of them preferred not to get up before noon unless there was a major radio or TV spot to do. And even then, Brit could always tell with their tired eyes that they’d much rather be in bed in their hotel or on their tour bus.
“Brit and I just finished breakfast, so...” Saffron pressed her body against the solid wall of the elevator for stability, staying as far away from the glass side and J.J. as possible. Brit couldn’t figure out why Saffron wasn’t as enamored with J.J. as Brit was, but she wasn’t mad about it either.
Brit waved off Saffron’s comment. “I could eat a little something. What are you in the mood for, J.J.?”
“I would straight punch a snake for some pancakes right now.”
Saffron’s groan was low, long, and barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention. But Brit noticed.
“I know just the place.”
“You’re not into pancakes,” said J.J. to Saffron.
It didn’t come out like a question, so it must have been a guess based on Saffron’s groan. She had opted for a poached egg that she had made herself at breakfast, stating that she was on a diet that seemed fully unnecessary to Brit for a 22-year-old who looked as good as Saffron did. But who was she to judge—she had tried every diet herself, but usually not at the expense of breakfast with her family. Still, there was an odd familiarity in the way J.J. said it.
“Right,” confirmed Saffron. She was even tenser on the elevator this time, huddling in one corner with her arms crossed and a deep frown on her normally friendly face. “You know what, I really should prepare more before my first interview. I’ll catch you guys later.” Without another word, she stepped off the elevator on the ground floor and passed them on the way out the door. While she hooked a left back in the direction of her hotel, Brit guided J.J. to the right.
“What’s up with her?”
“She had eggs earlier. I think she’s on some sort of weird diet.”
“I never get why girls torture themselves like that.”
Brit chuckled quietly, but she couldn’t judge Saffron for that.
“And you had?”
To lie or not to lie? “Pancakes, but don’t worry about it. This time of day, I’m taking you somewhere that serves lunch and breakfast. They have the best appetizers around. I’ll probably munch on an order of poutine.”
“Oh, I miss poutine. I’ve been doing shows in the states, and they haven’t even grasped the concept of French fries with gravy. I missed roaming in my home.”
“J.J., can I ask you a weird question?”
“Shoot, sugar.”
“Do you always speak in verse? It’s cute.”
J.J. flashed her a smile. “I can’t turn it off. My brains always going in rhymes. All the time.” He chuckled. “My bad.”
“How’d the tour go? In the great United States?” Brit played along.
“I don’t know that I’d call it a tour. It was a bunch of lame little shows my last manager set up for me. Coffee shops and entertainment centers where kids hang out nonstop.”
“Wow, I would’ve thought you’d have much bigger gigs with the success of ‘Firecracker’.”
“Me too. That’s why I wanted to get signed on with the best, Ab...Lander. How’d he get that name anyway?”
“Abednego?”
“Yeah.”
Brit shrugged. “It’s from the Bible.”
“Cool.”
The restaurant was packed that day, and Brit couldn’t figure out why until she spotted an edition of SMS with a wide-angled lens picture of a woman on the cover holding a plated pancake close to the camera with the caption, ‘Best Kept Secret Is Secret No More.’“ No kidding. The restaurant had gotten press, and now everyone who wasn’t anyone wanted to be there.
“There’s going to be a thirty-minute wait,” the harried man at the host desk informed them.
J.J. leaned his tattooed arm against the podium and looked the man straight in the eye. “Are you sure?”
The man paused from frantically stacking menus to take a look at J.J. “Hey, aren’t you? Didn’t I see you on Wake up with Wanda the other day? My daughter loves you—you’re...J. Racked, right?”
Without missing a beat, J.J. offered his right hand to the man and gave him a firm jerk of a handshake. “J.J. Mack. Always good to meet a fan.”
“Yeah, listen, let me see what I can do.”
Brit wrapped her hand around his tattooed elbow. “See, this is why I love hanging out with rock stars sometimes.”
“Just sometimes?” His eyes smoldered down at her, and his mouth curved up slightly.
“Some more than others.”
“Am I in the ‘some’ or the ‘others’ category?”
“At the moment, ‘some,’ but the day is young. I have a good feeling you have a solid chance of staying in the ‘some’ category.” Maybe in even in the “one” category, but Brit didn’t add that part. She didn’t want to freak him out, and she had to remind herself that he was a musician, which is a type she had sworn off based on experiences in the past. The last thing she needed was another narcissist like Crazy whose attention she only had when she didn’t want it, but couldn’t get his attention if she danced around naked in an apron and rolling pin when she was entitled to it.
The host returned and beckoned for them to follow him. “I wouldn’t want to go home and tell my daughter I made J.J. Mack wait for a table.” He showed them to a two-person table near full-length glass windows but still in the inside seating area. “Sorry we don’t have anything outside.”
J.J. looked past the host through the glass. “Outside would be better.” He glanced at Brit. “I’m just playin’. This is perfect. Thanks, man. Tell your daughter I said ‘hey.’“
“Would you mind signing something?” The host slid a paper napkin across the table to the seat J.J. had taken and set a pen on top of it.
“Sure, man.” J.J. scribbled on the napkin with letters that didn’t resemble his name at all and handed it back to the host. “Nice meeting you.”
“Can I get you two anything to drink to start off? We have a Bloody Mary special going on right now.”
“Nah, I don’t drink,” said J.J. “Brit?”
At this new development, Brit’s stomach did a two-step. She and J.J. had more in common than she had hoped. “I don’t either. Sprite and orange juice for me.”
Brit eased into her seat, happy for that moment to be over and pleasantly surprised that she and J.J. had something so important in common. “I thought you were serious about insisting on an outside seat. For a moment, I thought I had another rock star diva on my hands.”
“I know, right? I saw the look of terror on your face, so I went with it. I know I’m not that big of a deal yet in this place. Yet,” he repeated.
Brit sipped the water that appeared at the table. “You’ll get there. With Lander’s help, you’re going to be huge.” She couldn’t help being reminded of her promising the same things to Vincent and how much of a disappointment he had turned out to be. She couldn’t imagine J.J. going down that same route, but she had to be cautious.
“Can I ask why you hang out with rock star divas then, other than the fact that your family asks you to?”
“As much as I sometimes tire of rock stars, I love music, and I love the music business. People can buy their way in, or people can, you know, sleep their way in; but at the end of the day, the real talent will bubble up to the top. And those are the people who will stick around. That’s what I like to stick around for. If I can help someone from my relatively lowly place in the biz, then I will.”
J.J. leaned back in his chair and stared out the window, the light reflecting in his brown eyes. “You must really be into music. Being around it so much.”
“Yes, you could say that.”
“You gonna find a gig in the biz?”
Brit sighed. Normally, she wouldn’t entertain this line of questioning from someone who she didn’t think earned the right to ask her that, but she had a desire to open up to J.J. and get him to open up more to her.
“I want to run Club Stanza, although my mother would like me to take over her business. I like bringing people together like she does—she runs a matchmaking company. But I love everything about the music industry. So yeah, in a perfect world, I’d run one of my dad’s clubs someday. Or who knows, maybe start my own label on top of that.”
“That’d be sick. Do you have a favorite band?”
“I have a favorite band of the moment. It all depends on my mood.”
“Which is?”
“The band or my mood?”
J.J. shrugged and rewarded Brit with a flash of pearly whites. “Both.”
“My mood is...content. The band is Free Range Guinea Pigs.” Brit winced, waiting for the reaction. J.J.’s eyebrow twitched, but that was the only reaction she got. “They’re pretty underground right now, but I want to get them into the club. I’m into reggae fusion at the moment.”
“What, would you say, music means to you? I got asked that in an interview. I tried to sound profound, but I ended up sounding like a douche. What would your answer be?”
The scene outside caught Brit’s attention as she tried to come up with something profound herself. By this time of day, the city she loved was bustling with businesspeople on lunch breaks, and a couple had gathered around a street performer with a guitar and harmonica.
“The bands I love write the songs that define my life. Whenever I wasn’t feeling whole, music filled that space. Movies need soundtracks, and those bands provide mine. Their songs saved me by giving me exactly what I needed to hear at the exact right moment.”
“That’s really deep. Can I use that for my answer?”
“Go for it. You don’t even have to give me credit.”
“You hang out with a lot of these bands. Do you ever tell them that stuff?”
Brit shook her head. “I don’t want to come off like a fan. They have enough of those.”
“But you are a fan.”
“Yes.” Brit cleared her throat, changing the subject. “You live around here?”
“I do. I grew up here, so my parents are in the area too. For a while, I lived with them while I was driving around, staying in hotels or sleeping in my car in the early days of gigging. But I do have my own house now that I can afford it. It’s not too far from here—just outside of the city.”
“Wow, a house, and you’re so young.”
“Twenty-four, yeah.” He opened his mouth to say something, and Brit guessed it was to ask her how old she was, but he wisely closed it again.
She decided to offer it up anyway. “I’ll be twenty-seven at the end of next month, and I’m still in an apartment that my daddy pays for.”
“Hey, if he can swing it, why not?” J.J. picked up the menu, and for a brief moment, Brit wondered if he thought she was indeed too old for him until his brown eyes popped over the top of the menu to smolder at her again. “I’ll take you to my home sometime. If you want to see it. You know, for when you’re in the market. For a house.”
Every clipped sentence sounded suggestive the way he said it. “I’d like that. I would be curious to know how the real estate market is looking these days.” She feigned a hoity-toity voice and cocked her pinky while taking another drink of water.
A visit to J.J.’s house? She wouldn’t mind that at all.