Chapter Eight — Livvie
“What are you thinking about over there?”
I turned at Christopher’s question but I had no idea where to begin.
We were standing shoulder to shoulder at the bar of yet another packed downtown venue, listening to a new band that had just moved to LA from the Midwest.
“Hey, is everything okay?” he asked, running his fingertips down my arm. I shivered when he touched me, and he immediately noticed. The smile that swept across his face could melt an igloo in the middle of December.
“Yeah, of course.” I offered him a smile that took more energy than it should have. I hadn’t been getting much sleep and something about the lack of sleep and the whirling thoughts in my mind was sapping all my strength.
Over the past few weeks, Christopher had taken me on a backstage pass to every hot spot in town and put me on a first name basis with a lot of the biggest managers and owners in the business. I’d gone from no connections at all to being in the same room as some of the biggest power players in the city. Doors and windows were bursting open for me and my bands. It was exciting—but overwhelming—all at once.
“You want to try and talk to these guys after their set?” he asked, glancing over at the sweat-soaked band on stage. The lead singer was slaying his song and the entire crowd was screaming in appreciation.
In reality, they were the type of band I’d love to talk to, but I also knew I wouldn’t know what to say if I could get a moment of their time. I had three bands already on my roster, and although it had been well over a month since signing the first ones, I had yet to really cobble anything together for them to do. Christopher had offered Downside a record deal, and since then, I hadn’t heard from them, and the other two bands in my care were getting antsy, wondering what their next move was going to be.
If only I knew. All of my time had been absorbed by outings with Christopher, and while I knew it would all pay off—I was starting to feel a little raggedy around the edges.
“Nah, I think I’m going to call it a night,” I answered. “I need to do some real work tomorrow.”
Christopher laughed. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Paperwork and stuff.” I knew I was being cagey, and from the look on Christopher’s face, he wasn’t impressed with my answer.
“Hey, what’s it going to take to get you to relax?” He massaged his thumbs into my knotted shoulder blades and stepped even closer.
“That’s a pretty good start,” I replied, letting my shoulders sag against the pressure as his fingers expertly worked my sore muscles.
I wore a low-back tank dress and Christopher’s fingertips were warm and soothing against my bare skin. He leaned in and I shivered as his breath ran across the sweet spot on my neck. “You know, you’re right. Let’s get out of here. My place isn’t very far, and I guarantee we can work out all these…kinks.”
His suggestion vibrated through my body. Christopher was a very attractive man, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel some sort of chemistry between the two of us, especially when we always managed to be together late at night, in dark clubs, or on steamy dance floors. Flirting with him was fun and easy—but so far, I’d managed to not let things get too carried away. After the fiasco with Remy, I knew the worst thing I could do would be to mix business and pleasure—again.
And right now, business was all that mattered.
Before I could think of an appropriate reply that would help me sidestep my way out of Christopher’s partial embrace, my phone started buzzing on the tabletop in front of me.
Saved by the bell.
Or so I thought. When I looked down, Remy’s name was flashing across the screen. The anxiety that had been building jolted into full-blown panic.
I snatched for the device, but my reflex wasn’t quick enough and Christopher caught a peek over my shoulder. “Remy? Why is he calling you?” He dropped his hands from my shoulders and turned me around with a swift tug on my arm.
“Olivia, I don’t want you talking or interacting with Remington. He’s bad for you—bad for your business,” Christopher said. His face had shifted from relaxed and easygoing to stony and borderline angry. The transformation startled me and my mind scrambled as I tried to think of what to say. I didn’t appreciate him telling me who I could and couldn’t speak to, but at the same time, he was the only one who really could help me and make my business dreams come true.
Besides, it wasn’t like I wanted to talk to Remy anyway. I still hadn’t figured out what the hell had happened between us and was happier to chalk it up to a moment of weakness and move on, than sit around pining for him.
I slipped the phone into my pocket, feeling the vibration kick on again moments later. I offered Christopher my best smile and ran a hand down his strong forearm. “Trust me, Christopher—he’s the last man in the world I want to talk to right now.”
Christopher surveyed me for a moment, as though running me through some sort of pass or fail, human lie detector test. Then, in a flash, his features shifted again and he relaxed his posture. His fingers clasped around mine and he leaned back in to me, his lips grazing my ear.
“Tomorrow?” I asked before taking a step back, just out of his reach.
He smiled and gave a simple nod. “I’ll send a car at seven.”
I nodded, and then turned and hurried out of the club before he could catch me again.
The ride home was spent poring over the evidence I had to work with. Remy had offered to help me with my business, helped me land my first clients, I believed him, then he bailed with no explanation.
Then, after a month of being completely MIA, he shows up with some cryptic warning about Christopher and his intentions. We have sheet-scorching sex, I kick him out, and then he proceeds to spend the next week blowing up my phone. Christopher, on the other hand, offers my band a record deal, shows me around town and helps me make contacts. But, when I try to pin him down for exact details of the record deal, he gets cagey and changes the subject.
All my analyzing didn’t do me any good and by the time I arrived home, I was more confused than ever. I decided against listening to Remy’s voicemail, knowing it would only tangle things up further. I switched my phone off and trudged upstairs to my apartment.
It was nearly three in the morning, so I tiptoed down the hall to my room, careful not to make any sounds that would wake up Tessa.
“Livvie?” a muffled voice called out into the darkness.
I froze in place. “Tess?”
A lamp flickered on to reveal Tessa balled up on the living room couch. She was wearing a black dress and stilettos to match. Her makeup was smeared all down her cheeks like she’d been crying her eyes out. I hurried over and sat on the couch next to her feet.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
She sniffed and my suspicion was confirmed. “He was supposed to call me,” she whimpered. ”We we’re supposed to go out tonight.”
“Oh,” was all I could manage to say. Tessa had been dating some rich guy that she’d met at a party. I hadn’t been introduced to him, but from the way she talked about him, she was convinced she was in the express lane to wifeville. “I’m so sorry, Tess.”
More sniffles. “Why are guys such assholes?”
I choked back a laugh. “Hell if I know.”
Despite my best efforts to push him out of my mind, Remy’s face came to the forefront. He was the last guy I was…involved…with and if I was really honest about it—still wasn’t quite over. Our last encounter had been so charged up with anger and passion that had led to the hottest night of sex I’d ever experienced. I hadn’t told Tessa about it. Mostly because I’d have to confess that our dining room table had been defiled, but also because, in some weird way, I wanted to keep it a secret—our secret—because it made me feel closer to him, more special. Remy wasn’t the type of hookup that could be dissected with girl talk and then tossed aside. He was something more than that.
I just didn’t know what to do about it, yet.
“Do you think I’ll ever find someone special?” Tessa asked, breaking into my rehashing.
“Of course you will. Come on, let me help you,” I said, wanting to escape the trap of a conversation as quickly as possible. I heaved Tessa up from the couch and marched her down the hall to the bathroom for a long bath before I went into my own room and collapsed into my own heap of hot mess.
The last thing on my mind before my exhausted body succumbed to sleep was the way that Remy smiled at me and the taste of his devilish lips.