Summer ended. A new tour started. We’d arrived in L.A. the day before, and after one night spent at Billy’s uber-modern house, we were loading up on tour buses again. The season was changing, but you wouldn’t know it. The weather was clear and hot, the air wavy and the tar on the pavement sticky.
“Another few minutes and we’ll be on the bus in the air conditioning,” I told Addy, holding her sweaty palm.
All around us was a hive of activity. Five tour buses rumbled, filling the heated air with exhaust. Roadies, stage managers and others loaded the compartments underneath. The band hadn’t arrived yet. Addy and I had gone ahead. I wanted to get her settled a little earlier, and I’d promised her ice cream before we left. The girl would do anything for a treat. Sometimes I felt raising kids was like training dogs. I kept that to myself. Trent and another security guard grabbed our luggage from the limo’s trunk and dragged it to the front bus.
“Trent,” I said, pulling Addy with me to catch up to the bald security guard. “That’s the wrong bus.” The buses always parked in order. Wanks and Janks were first, then Addy and mine, then the opening band and finally, the roadies and security.
“No mistake, love,” Trent said dragging the bags up the stairs and onto the bus. “You and the kid are with Wanks and Janks this tour.”
“Yesss.” Addy fist pumped. “I call a top bunk.”
I frowned down at her then proceeded onto the bus. “What? Why?” I asked Trent.
The man shrugged a beefy shoulder. “Dunno, love. You’re going to have to ask the big man.”
Speaking of the devil, Billy and the rest of the band had arrived and were boarding. I pivoted on my heel.
“Billy.” Addy called, breaking my hold on her hand and stomping over to her father. “I want a top bunk.”
Billy smiled down at his daughter, all white teeth and sun, streaming from one of the large windows, in his blond hair. “Then you shall have one.”
The frown I’d been sporting intensified. “Billy, please explain to Trent there’s been a mistake. He’s under the impression Addy and I are riding with the band.”
Billy removed his sunglasses and stuffed them in the front pocket of his white tee. “There’s no mistake, flower. You and Addy will be with us this time around.”
“I’m going to go choose my bunk.” Addy dashed off.
Trent shouldered his way through, passing me and the band. As he neared he whispered, “Good luck,” to me.
“I don’t understand,” I said, at a loss.
Turner, Chord and Jett made themselves comfortable on the bus—sitting in various positions on the black velvet couch.
“What’s there to understand?” Billy asked. “We’ve had some budget cuts. Tough times are coming, flower.” He patted my shoulder. “But don’t worry, we’ll survive.”
Although I knew the number of buses idling in the parking lot, I mentally counted again. “There are four buses. We’ve always had four buses.”
Billy gave me a blank look. “Of course there are four buses. The tutor, assistants and cook have to sleep somewhere.”
I gritted my teeth. “Why aren’t Addy and I sleeping there then?”
“I told you, budget cuts.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes all the sense in the world to me,” said Billy. He started to look through the cabinets. “Where’s all my gum?”
“Bottom right cabinet,” I answered. “How so?”
“How so what?” Billy found the carton of cinnamon gum and tore into it with his teeth.
“How does it make all the sense in the world?”
He turned and gave me a dumb look. “A bus that carries four people uses less gas, flower.”
“That’s science,” Jett chimed in.
I palmed my forehead, rubbing it. Outside I spied Phil, the production manager. He held a clipboard and shouted orders at people. “I’ll be right back.” I walked off the bus and approached Phil.
“Hey Daisy,” he said, smiling at me. “Don’t tell me Billy doesn’t like the bus. It’s the same as last time. We even upgraded the sound and gaming systems.”
I shook my head. “This isn’t about the bus.”
“No?” Hot wind ruffled Phil’s thin hair.
“Well it’s kind of about the bus. Billy said the budget has changed and we’re supposed to ride on his bus from now on.”
Phil stuck his tongue in his cheek, moved it around. “Is that what Billy said?”
“Yes.”
“Then I guess it’s true.”
“You and I both know it’s not true,” I snapped. For god’s sake, the man traveled with a chef, a housecleaner, three assistants and more. “Why won’t anyone stand up to him?” I asked the sky.
“Dunno about the others, but I got a wife at home and a kid heading for private college this year. I need my job, and Billy is an ornery fucker who fires people for fun. So if Billy says the sky is purple and he just shit a gold bar, it’s true.”
“You’re a spineless jellyfish,” I hissed.
“That hurts, Daisy.” The way he said, I could tell it didn’t hurt, not even a little bit.
I stomped back onto the bus.
“You all right, flower?” Billy asked, coming to stand in front of me. He put a hand to my forehead. I batted it away. “Easy, I’m just seeing if you have heat exhaustion or something.”
“I’d like to speak to you.” I sent pointed looks to Turner, Chord and Jett. “Alone.” Without waiting for his permission, I grabbed his thick wrist and pulled him to the back of the bus. Billy complied, allowing me to lead. We passed Addy bouncing, as much as possible given the low ceiling, around in a top bunk. Stepping into the master bedroom, I closed the door. A king-sized bed dominated the space. Billy slept back here most of the time, and it smelled of him, like cedar and sandalwood and aged whiskey. If these walls could talk … My stomach twisted thinking of Billy with groupies in the massive bed.
“What’s up, flower?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” I regarded him through narrowed eyes. What the actual fuck was going on? In the last two years Billy hadn’t ever wanted Addy and me on his bus. He’d made a big point of telling me it was no place for a child.
“Honestly, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
For a moment I just stared at him. I waved a hand through the air. “Why are Addy and I sharing a bus with you? You never wanted this before?”
He put his hands on his hips. “I told you—”
“Bull.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” Billy had the audacity to look offended.
“I’m saying you’re so full of shit your eyes should be brown.”
“Is that some type of American colloquialism? If it is, it’s rather crass. I hope you don’t talk to my daughter like that.”
At a loss, I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s there to understand?” He blew up. “You and Addy are riding with us where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Keep an eye on us? What exactly do you think is going to happen on the other bus?”
Billy crossed his arms, his jaw clenched. Clearly he was unwilling to speak. We stared at each other. “Oh my god,” I said coming to a conclusion. “Is this about Joseph? You’re jealous.” It was the only possible explanation. Could it be Billy was jealous? My heart did a strange flipping thing inside my chest. Everything suddenly crystallized and made perfect sense—Billy’s extreme negative reaction to the cute tutor was because of me. Because I’d been flirting with him. Because I’d liked him.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “I’ve never been jealous in my life and I’m sure as hell not going to start with some little backwoods prick like Joseph.”
“You’re jealous.” I stepped closer to Billy, poked him the chest.
“Touch me again and lose that finger,” he threatened, but I knew it was all bluster. This dog’s bark was worse than his bite.
I laughed, throaty and loud.
Billy tensed, fire in his eyes. “Whatever conclusion you’ve drawn in that pretty head of yours, it isn’t right. I don’t know this new tutor and until I trust him, you and Addy are with me. This is purely about my daughter’s safety.”
I tilted my head at him, assessing his answer. Maybe I was wrong. Embarrassment crept up my spine and made my stomach feel hollow. I thought Billy was jealous. What a dummy. Just because I had all the unrequited feelings didn’t mean Billy had them too. I had been projecting. I needed to be more careful. My cards were showing. My heart was showing. I swallowed back the emotional onslaught, the desire for Billy to want me as much as I wanted him. “Okay.”
He dipped his chin. “Okay.”
Sleeping on a bus wasn’t easy but that night, I was lulled into my dreams, overtired from the move and the Dallas-to-L.A. time zone jump. Then I was yanked from my dreams by a rocker whisper-shouting my name. Billy was up way past his bedtime.
“Flower,” I turned over in my bunk. Above me Addy slept, her snores punctuating the dark.
“Flower, you awake?” I rolled onto my back, mentally considering the merits of faking sleep. Maybe if I was quiet enough, he’d go away.
My bunk curtain whipped open. Billy crouched down, his face level with mine. “Are you trying to avoid me?”
“I was sleeping.” I reached for the curtain, intent on tugging in back into place. Billy held it tight. Damn his big, strong hands.
“Want to watch a movie?”
“No. I want to sleep.” I reached for the curtain again. Billy moved it out of my arm’s reach.
“C’mon, we can watch anything you want.”
I grumbled and buried my head deeper into the pillow. “Go away.”
“I can’t sleep. I need you. Who knows what trouble I’ll get into on my own?”
“We’re on a moving bus. I’m pretty sure the world is safe.” I turned to look at him. Light filtered in from the passing streetlamps, casting his beautiful face in a honey glow.
“We can play a game,” he suggested hopefully.
I sighed. He wasn’t going to go away. “Okay.”
“Okay?” The smile that lit his face stole my breath.
“Let me put some pants on.”
Billy’s green eyes drifted to my blanket-covered legs. “You got nothing on under there?”
I wouldn’t make anything of the heated look he was sending my way. Aside from crankiness, flirting was Billy’s default setting. He couldn’t help it. I reminded myself of my place in his life, as his nanny, as his number one assistant, and occasional kissing partner. Dammit, don’t think about kissing. I bent and grabbed the curtain. Temporarily stunned by my quick movements, Billy let go. I whipped the curtain back into place, found my discarded sweats underneath the covers and shimmied them on.
I stepped into the main cabin, wrapping my mustard-colored sweater around me. The lights were dimmed. Billy sat at the table, leg bouncing as he set up a board game.
“Candy Land?” I asked.
“It’s all we’ve got.”
“Forget it.” I passed him, lay on the couch and clicked the television on. Bluish light and muted voices filled the cabin. “Let’s just watch a show or something.” I yawned mightily.
Billy left the game partially set up and sat on the couch at my feet. He stretched his arms out and rested them on the back of the seat, fingers drumming on the soft velvet.
I clicked through the channels until I found a rom com. Billy’s lip turned up at my selection. I smiled and settled into the couch. I watched too many romance movies growing up. They gave me outrageous ideas about love. Love should be angsty, obsessive and all encompassing. Maybe that’s why I was in my current predicament: lusting after a man who could never love me. We watched in silence for a little bit. Billy’s drumming increased. I could see the restlessness growing, and it manifested as frustration. “Fucking hell, this movie is a bunch of bullshit.”
I nudged him with my foot. “Hush. This is the best part.” Richard Gere was just about to leap from the sun roof of his white limo and declare his undying love for Julia Roberts.
“I tell you, I’ve met plenty of prostitutes and none of them ever looked like her.”
I groaned. “You’re ruining this for me. He’s winning her heart. It’s romantic.”
Billy muted the television and regarded me through hooded eyes. My mind spun, creating images of Billy and I tangled up in a kiss. “Is that how a man would win your heart, flower? In a white limo with red roses?”
“No.” Given the darkness and the time of night, it felt right to whisper. “I think I’m more of an Officer and a Gentleman kind of girl.” It made sense. I’d grown up on an Army base, with a Navy base nearby.
At the title of the movie, Billy quirked a brow. I wiggled my toes and explained the whole movie in an excited whisper. How Richard Gere—maybe I had a little thing for him—makes his way through officer candidate school and falls in love with a factory girl. God, it’d been so easy to picture that girl as me. Someone trapped in a small world and just waiting to break free. Soon enough, I learned life didn’t mimic the movies. A man didn’t save you. More often than not, you had to save yourself. By the time I was done, Pretty Woman had ended, and another movie had begun on the massive television. “I guess I always dreamed some guy would show up and whisk me away.”
Billy mock shuddered. “Sounds horrid. I’d never do something like that.”
Disappointment filled me. “No. I suppose you wouldn’t.” I shrugged, chagrined. “It’s silly I guess.”
“It’s undignified, making an ass of yourself and carrying a woman off.”
“What’s dignity without love?”
Billy rubbed his palms into his eyes. “This is getting far too philosophical.”
“Can I go back to bed now?”
“You’re not having a good time?”
“I’d be having a better time if I was in my bunk asleep.”
“You’re really bad at this friendship shit, flower.”
I stilled, blinked once. Had I heard him right? “Are we friends?” I asked carefully.
His face twisted into a ball of disbelief. “Of course we are.” He turned his cheek. A muscle ticked along his jaw. “You might be my best friend.”
“What about Jett?” Sometimes I called them Tweedledee and Tweedledum, in my head of course. From my tenure with the band, I’d gleaned they’d formed in high school. Jett and Billy had met years before that in middle school. At first they’d been enemies then turned to friends, all over a girl. Their bond was tight. Impenetrable.
“Jett’s my good mate. I’d take a bullet for him.” He paused, re-thinking. “In the leg or arm, somewhere nonessential. But he doesn’t sit up at night with me. Outside the band you’re my only friend.”
“You have lots of friends.” Every night was a different party in a different place. The scenery and groupies may change, but his management and roadies were always the same. I knew they liked him, in spite of his shitty temperament. “What about everyone on tour?”
He flicked a hand. “Those are people that are paid to like me. I get it, I’m a dick most of the time and if they had the choice, they’d pack up. They smile at me because I sign their paychecks.”
“Why don’t you be nicer then?” I asked.
“Ever heard the tale of the scorpion and the frog?”
I nodded. “Yes.” It went something like this: One day a scorpion wanted to cross a river but he could not swim. So he approached a frog, and asked the frog to ferry him across. The frog hesitated, afraid the scorpion would sting and kill him. The scorpion assured the frog this would not happen; if he stung the frog while crossing the river, they would both drown and die, perish. The frog thought this made excellent sense. So he began to carry the scorpion across the river. Mid-way the scorpion stung the frog. About to drown, the frog asked the scorpion why he did such a thing, now they would both die. The scorpion replied: it’s in my nature. I gave Billy a sad look. “So you’re saying being a dick is in your nature?”
“I am who I am, flower. Nobody’s going to change me.”
“I don’t think anybody has to change you. You can change yourself.”
Billy made a sound of much displeasure. Clearly he didn’t care for my reasoning. “You didn’t say it back.”
“Say what back?”
“That you’re my friend, too. Don’t you like me?” He gazed at me with puppy dog eyes but there was a sincere glint to them—a vulnerability.
These moments of seriousness with Billy were disconcerting. He had a fragility about him. Like a lighthouse to a lost ship, it called to me. “I like you Billy.” I liked him too much. “Even if you didn’t pay me and against my better judgment, I’d still like you.”
He grinned and plucked one of my toes. “And you think I’m the best boss ever.”
I stuck up my nose. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s all over your face. You adore me, flower.”
Another rom com had started. God, I loved late night television. I wiggled my feet under Billy’s thigh. “My toes are cold. Keep my feet warm, friend.”
“Your feet stink.”
“No they don’t.” I showered before bed. My toes had never been cleaner. The bus hit some sort of bump on the highway, nearly spilling me from my seat. Billy grabbed hold of my calf, steadying me.
“Easy,” he said.
“Stupid bus,” I groaned. “Why don’t we ever stay in hotels? I thought rock stars were supposed to live in penthouses, trash their rooms and travel by private plane.” We’d actually done plenty of that—Addy, me and Billy. But when it came to the tour, we always rode in buses.
Billy’s hand crept under my sweats, caressing my calf. That region had never been a trigger zone for me, but I lit up inside like a Christmas tree. If only his hand would inch up a little further. I’d like that. I’d like that a lot. “Buses keep us grounded. When we first started out, we drove to gigs in this old beater van Jett got from his uncle. It was shit brown, and we sold the airbags out of it to pay for new speakers. It also broke down every other day and leaked antifreeze, on the inside. I miss the old girl. Not that I’d ever go back; those days were hellish. It was around that time I met little bird’s mum.”
I perked up. “Vicky?” Addy had told me her mother’s name.
“She was our first groupie, followed us everywhere. Then she just took off one day. Come to find out, four years later, it was because I’d knocked her up. You know, sometimes I get pissed that she didn’t tell me about Addison. But then sometimes I feel thankful cause if she had told me, I might’ve asked her to get rid of the baby, or I might’ve done the right thing and married her, went back home and worked in the auto shop. And I would’ve resented her every day for it.” His mouth tightened. “Does that make me a bad person?”
I sat up, scooted closer to him. “No. It makes you human.”
He looked away, deep in thought. I let him have a moment. “Do you think Addy can sense it?”
“Sense what?”
“All that shit I just told you. Do you think she can sense I’m thankful I didn’t know about her until later?”
“Of course not.”
“She won’t call me dad.”
A tendril of pity wrapped its way around my heart for Billy. I’d suspected Addison’s refusal to call him dad bothered Billy. Whenever she called him by his first name, he’d get this look on his face, an almost imperceptible tightening, then he’d shake it off and smile at her like she was the brightest thing in his life. All sorts of responses filtered through my brain. Give her time. She’ll come around. Tell her how much it would mean to you. But I knew those may not be true, and I couldn’t lie to Billy. “Even if she never calls you dad, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you like one.”
Billy nodded but I could tell my answer didn’t satisfy. He was still brooding. Still emotional. “They showed me pictures of where Vicky had been living with Addy. The place wasn’t fit for rats, let alone a child. It burns me up inside. And I feel like such a colossal prick for thinking the way I have.” He stared down into his lap. “I could’ve sent her to live with my parents. Whatever shit they’ve got against me, they would’ve taken her in. I know that for sure. But I’m selfish when it comes to the things I love.” His eyes burned into mine. “Do you think she’s doing all right, growing up okay and everything?”
“I think she’s doing great, all things considered,” I answered honestly. “She’s lucky to have you.”
“Yeah?” Billy’s lip turned up, a glimmer of a smile. One ego stroke and maudlin Billy Wanks disappeared.
“Yeah.” I lay back down, shoving my feet under Billy’s thigh again. “Enough serious talk. Movie time now.”
I watched the movie for a while. Billy seemed lost in his own thoughts. I let him be. He caressed my calf again. I don’t even think he knew he was doing it. My eyes grew heavy.
“Flower?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you want to stay in hotels?”
“I wouldn’t mind a regular-sized shower and bed from time to time.”
He squeezed my calf. I didn’t open my eyes. “I want you to be happy you know.”
“Happiness is a warm gun.”
“My god, did you just quote the Beatles to me?”
“They’re my favorite band,” I said, eyes still closed.
Another squeeze to my calf, this time a tiny bit harder. “Wanks and Janks is your favorite band.”
“Whatever you say Billy.”
“God, I love it when you’re so agreeable. Whatever you say Billy, can we have that tattooed on your forehead?”
I laughed, then fell promptly asleep.
“You know we’ve got children on this bus now?” asked Jett.
Fingers skirted over my shoulder, down my spine. I rubbed my cheek into a hard chest. Chest? Slowly, I opened my eyes. I remembered falling asleep on the couch but in a completely different position. My current position included laying half on top of Billy, one leg wrapped around his waist. Jett, Chord and Turner stared down at us. Behind the trio, Addy sat at the kitchen table, a bowl of Lucky Charms in front of her.
I scrambled off of Billy. “This isn’t how it looks.”
Billy sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Fuck off, Jett.”
Even though I should’ve, I didn’t reprimand Billy about his language. I’d had a long talk with Addy about inappropriate words. She was good about the cussing thing. “Tell them it’s not what it looks like,” I demanded of Billy.
In answer, he stretched, putting both arms behind his head. He smiled dreamily. “It’s exactly how it looks. Flower and I took our relationship to the next level last night. It was magical. We’re best friends now.”
Jett snorted.
I was mortified.
“Well whatever weird shit you two were doing,” Turner spoke up, “I fed the kid.”
Addy looked up from her bowl, heaping spoonful of cereal in hand. “You know you’re only supposed to have that once a week.” I’d limited the sugary cereals.
“It’s my second bowl. We’ve been watching you two sleep for half an hour,” she replied.
I scrubbed a hand down my face. Addy pushed out from the booth, dodged past the band members and came to a stop in front of me. She tugged on the hem of my sweater. I looked down at her.
She smiled up at me, a hint of the devil in her eyes. “Are you going to be my new mommy?” I felt my face bleach of color.
Billy barked out a laugh. “Not so funny when the shoe is on the other foot, eh, flower?”
I’d failed as a nanny. “No, sweetheart.” I smoothed a hand down her tangled hair. Ew, there was something sticky in it.
“Oh, okay.” She skipped off, back to her bowl of Lucky Charms, munching happily. The girl was clearly devastated.
I hung my head. “I’m going to go brush my teeth.” I walked off.
“What about breakfast?” Billy hollered behind me. Billy’s chef had quit to take a job at a five-star restaurant. Billy was convinced he’d starve without someone to cook for him.
“Have some cereal.”
“I can’t have that shit. I’ll be bouncing off the walls. I need eggs, woman.”
“Make them yourself then. Don’t forget you have to break the eggs before cooking them. You only eat the insides.” No joke, the man actually tried to scramble eggs once shells and all. Sometimes I didn’t know how he survived.
“You’re the worst friend ever!”
The band and Addy’s laughter followed me into the bathroom.