"He's a nice guy, huh?" Luke asked from the passenger's seat of my car.
My brother still lived at home with our parents, and he had plans to ride home with them after dinner, so he left his motorcycle at work and rode with me.
"Yeah," I said, answering his question about Wes. "He's got a roguish appearance, but he's really nice. I didn't expect him to be so impressed with my throwing."
"Roguish?"
"Mischievous, sneaky, bad boy."
"He's gotta look like that," Luke said. "It's part of his whole image."
"Why does he have to have an image?" I asked.
"I don't guess he has to, but I'm sure it helps. He's a musician. He plays guitar and sings in a band."
It all came back to me when he said that.
A few months before, a friend of mine from work had a birthday gathering at a local pub and that's where I had seen that guy before. He was indeed the lead singer of a band. I remembered it clearly now. I was glad I didn't know that bit of information before I threw the darts because I probably would have failed.
"I thought you were serious about him being related to the Bishop Motorcycle people," I said.
"He is," Luke said.
I took my eyes off of the road just long enough to shoot my brother a questioning glance. My brother knew everything there was to know about Bishop motorcycles, so he definitely had the scoop. He took a deep breath as if deciding where to begin.
"His grandpa started the whole business. Michael Bishop. His son, Jesse, runs it with him—that's Wes's dad. They live over in Memphis. That's where the company started. That's their headquarters."
I knew they were an American company, but I didn't know much else about it. This was all news to me.
"They're ka-gillionaires," Luke continued. "They've got dealerships all over the U.S. and now most of the world."
"Why'd you say he's the poor one?" I asked. "Did they disown him for being a musician or something?"
That question caused Luke to laugh. "Of course not. They would love to know he's a musician. His grandma, Ivy, was a really popular blues artist back in the day. That's Michael's wife."
"Why did they disown him, then?" I asked.
"They didn't disown him. He loves his family. He goes back there to visit them and everything."
"You just said they would love to know he's a musician," I said feeling really confused.
"I know. It's really weird, but he doesn't tell them he plays music. He's been in London for like six or seven years, but he only started playing and singing a couple of years ago. He's kind of secretive about it. He's secretive about being a Bishop, too."
"How do you know all this? "I asked. "Because his bike breaks down all the time, and every time he brings it in, he just sits there and talks to me while I fix it. We're basically best friends by now."
"Does he have to pay to have it fixed?"
Luke scoffed. "No. He's a Bishop. He could just walk in and order a brand new custom bike if he wanted. He basically owns the place, like I told you."
"I don't get it. Why does he drive a bike that always breaks down?"
"Mostly for some girl," Luke said.
I paused momentarily, thinking about that statement. "You do realize what you just said makes no sense at all, right?"
Luke laughed. "I do realize that," he said. "Wes is different, though. He marches to the beat of his own drum. He came over to London for college, but also just because he wanted to live here. He finished his degree, but he doesn't really care about it. He said he really didn't know what he wanted to do until he found music. He lives in a tiny little flat and drives that old motorcycle. He's got a car, too, but it's nothing special—a beat-up VW. Basically, he lives as if he gets no help at all from his parents or grandparents, which is totally false. Amos said he could have a ton of money in his bank account with one phone call. I guess he has access to as much money as he wants, but you would never know it. He likes it that way. He has fun just being a normal guy. His girlfriend knows his name is Wes Bishop, but she has no idea he's part of the Bishop Motorcycle family."
"And he thinks she wouldn't like him if she found out he had money?" I asked, still feeling confused.
"No, quite the opposite," Luke said. "He knows she would like him."
I shot Luke another disbelieving look from across the console, and he laughed as if he knew the whole thing was ludicrous.
"He's been after this girl for a few years. She's a wild one, and he's trying to get her to commit. I think it's a challenge for him. She's a model. She's like five-eleven with legs for days. You've probably seen her in some ads—she did some stuff for Harrods. She's not super-famous or anything, but she is making a name for herself. She's got black hair with those big, pouty lips. Wes showed me her picture. I think she does those fashion shows where they walk the runway and stuff."
"So, he lies to his family about being a musician, and he lies to his girlfriend about being rich," I said, summarizing. "Sounds like a really great guy."
"You make it sound worse than it is," Luke said. "He is a great guy. He's only not telling his family because he knows how hyper supportive they are. His grandmother probably still has connections. I'm sure she could get him a record deal if she knew he was into music—if she couldn't, then his sister-in-law sure could."
"Who's his sister-in-law?"
"Courtney Cole."
"The Courtney Cole?" I asked, wondering if he could possibly be referring to the ultra-famous pop star. She had been making music for a long time. I had been a fan of hers since before we ever moved to London. This story got more and more unbelievable by the minute. "The Courtney Cole?" I repeated.
"Yes."
"You're lying."
"No, I'm not."
"He's related to Courtney Cole?"
"His brother is married to her. His girlfriend doesn't know that either. He's not telling her because he wants her to like him for who he is. He said if he can't win her over as a struggling musician, then he doesn't want to win her over at all. I think it's cool. I think he's awesome."
"If she's his girlfriend, then he's already won her over," I said.
"Not really," Luke said. "I don't think they're official. They've been friends for a long time, and they flirt or whatever, but I don't think she's fully committed. If she knew who he was, it would be a totally different story. She'd be all his in a heartbeat."
"I don't get it," I said. "I don't know why he still likes her if he knows she'd change her mind based on his money. It doesn't make sense. I guess it's none of my business, anyway."
"I don't know. I think he really believes he can win her over just the way he is," Luke said.
"How is it that one of his friends hasn't told her who he is? I mean, all it takes is for one person to slip up and his cover is blown."
"His friends don't know who he is," Luke said. "He doesn't tell any of his friends or band mates. The only reason we know about it is because we service his bike for free."
I felt like it was just about the craziest thing I had ever heard. In my mind, if Wes knew these facts about his family would change his friends' or his girlfriend's mind about him, then that should tell him where their priorities were.
I drove for a minute in silence, feeling frustrated on his behalf. I put myself in that girl's place. Wes was definitely easy on the eyes. He was devastatingly handsome with a mysterious look that caused all sorts of vulnerable feelings, even at first glance.
I remembered seeing him onstage at Katie's birthday party and thinking about what a talented musician he was. He had the magnetism and charisma of a rock star, and yet, after meeting him tonight, I could see how very sweet and approachable he was.
He was a total catch just the way he was, and if this model was too blind to see it, then that was too bad for her. Part of me was happy he wasn't telling her he had money, because then she would fall head over heels for him, and quite frankly, she didn't deserve him, anyway.
Maybe she did.
I didn't even know the girl, after all.
I had to remind myself that none of this was my business and Wes Bishop could go around spinning his wheels and pretending to be penniless for as many gorgeous models as he wanted.
"He said we should go see him play tomorrow night at Old Street Records."
"Who?" I asked. I had been in such deep thought that Luke's statement made almost no sense to me.
"Wes," he said as if that were obvious. "His band's playing tomorrow night. He said we should go watch."
"Who? You and Chasidy?"
Luke let out a little laugh. "I'm sure I'd take Chasidy, but Wes was talking about me and you when he asked."
"When did he say that?" I asked.
"When you went to the restroom. Right before we left."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't think you would want to go."
"I don't want to go," I said, maybe a little too soon. "But I still thought you would tell me if somebody invited me somewhere."
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't think you'd be interested."
"What did he say?" I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.
Luke let out a little laugh as he shrugged. I didn't look at him, but I could see him out of the corner of my eye.
"He said he was playing at Old Street Records tomorrow night and that we should go."
"Did he specifically say I should go?" I asked.
I knew right when the words came out of my mouth that I shouldn't have said them.
Luke reached over and pushed at my leg. "Do you like him?" he asked.
"No."
"Yes, you do. I can tell."
"No, I don't, but even if I did, I wouldn't do anything about it. He's with somebody. Plus, I know about his rich and famous family, so that takes me out of the running, anyway."
"You seriously like him!" Luke said, shifting in the passenger's seat as if trying to get a better look at me. I could tell by his tone that he was somewhat amazed. I was in a fairly long-term relationship during college, which had ended badly. I hadn't dated anyone in a couple of years, so it had been a while since Luke had the chance to tease me.
I let out a huff and rolled my eyes even though he couldn't really see me doing it.
"I can tell you like him, Jo. Your voice is shaking."
"No, it's not. I just don't see why he would waste his time on a girl who doesn't like him back."
"Oh, she likes him," Luke said. "I've seen pictures of them together. She likes him all right. She's just not ready to commit."
I felt a yucky, heavy feeling on account of Luke's statement. It was something akin to jealousy, which was crazy because I had absolutely no right to be jealous over this guy.
"Are you and Chasidy going?" I asked, trying to distract him.
"We hadn't planned on it," he said. "I didn't even know he was playing until he mentioned it a few minutes ago."
We drove for another minute without saying a word to each other. Luke took out his phone and began pushing buttons. In my mind, he was texting Chasidy to ask her if she wanted to go to the show the following evening, but really, I had no idea what he was doing.
"What'd you get Mom for her birthday?" he asked after two or three minutes.
"Two shirts and some of that coffee she likes. I made her a card, too. You know she always wants me to do that. What about you?"
"I got her a case for her phone and this big cast iron pot. It's nice. It's coated with porcelain. Chasidy picked it out. I already gave it to her."
"Why?"
"Because it's her birthday. I saw her this morning before I left for work, so I let her open it. Dad got her a new laptop. She was trying to show it to me, but she barely knew how to turn it on."
I laughed.
"There they are," he said as we pulled into our parking spot at the restaurant. We could see into the waiting area and could clearly make out our parents' silhouettes through the windows.
"They're cute together, aren't they?" I asked as we walked toward the door.
"Yep."
"Like you and Chasidy," I said, bumping into him as we walked.
"Like you and Wes Bishop," Luke said.
He was obviously just being silly, so I didn't bother defending myself. I just wrinkled my nose at him and didn't say a thing until we stepped into the restaurant and greeted our parents.