Chapter 6

Mason

Bernie might have been the size of a horse, but he didn’t move as fast as one. Not even one headed for the glue factory.

His sluggishness as we walked along the sidewalk reminded me why I was staying in Desert Springs for a day or two. And it wasn’t just Bernie. The street was the opposite of what I was used to in L.A. Here it was quiet, with the occasional car driving past. I’d seen more cyclists and pedestrians than cars in the last few minutes, and none seemed to be rushing to their next destination. They were appreciating the slow pace of living in a small town.

The last few months had been hectic, and it was nice for once to take it easy. Until now I hadn’t realized how crazy everything had been. After our last tour, we had originally been scheduled to have several months off to recover and write songs for our second album. Too bad Ronald Remar, the president of the record label, hadn’t bothered to check the memo—he’d pushed up the recording date for that album so we could work with a famous producer. No sooner had we finished with our final date in L.A. than we were forced to spend three intensive weeks writing new material for the next album.

After that came the preparation for the next tour, promoting the new album, and then opening for Endless Motion during their ten-month tour. But at least I was getting to live the dream. Thousands of musicians would kill to be where I was.

“Do you like living here?” I asked.

“I do. I originally grew up in Vegas, then my mother moved to L.A. when I was eleven. I was used to the crazy city life. At first, when Heidi suggested I join her here, I thought she was nuts. But the town grows on you.”

“Would you ever move back to L.A.?”

She shook her head. “No. This is my home now. Plus I’ve got the boutique, where I’m practically my own boss. Heidi trusts me to do what’s best for our store.”

“When do I get to see it?”

She eyed me like I was as crazy as the L.A. city life. “You really want to see the place?”

“Sure, why not?”

“All right, I’ll take you there this afternoon. I have to pick up some paperwork from there anyway.”

“You’re working even though it’s the weekend? I thought the benefit of living in a small town was the more relaxed lifestyle.”

“Welcome to the realities of owning your own business. And like you’re one to talk. I bet you don’t get weekends off while touring.”

She had a point.

Bernie stopped walking and took a dump on the grass alongside the sidewalk. If I thought he was massive, that was nothing compared to his pile of crap. You know the scene in Jurassic Park when Laura Dern’s character shoves her hand into the mountain of triceratops poop? Well, that dinosaur had nothing on Bernie. “Holy shit.”

Nicole screwed up her nose and untied a blue baggie from the leash. Better her than me. “And this is why I want a smaller breed,” she muttered.

“You want a dog?”

She nodded as she scooped up the shit. Bernie oversaw her work, and I could’ve sworn he looked proud of his accomplishment, head held high.

“I want a dog one day, and a cat,” Nicole said. “But I also want the husband, the two-point-four kids, and the white picket fence.” She shrugged. “So far the closest I’ve come to any of that is walking Bernie the few times Beatrice has been away.”

She finished picking up after the giant dog. “What about you?” she asked as we continued walking. “Are you looking to one day settle down and have a family, or are you going to be a rock star forever, always on the road?”

Now it was my turn to shrug. “Can’t say settling down is on my agenda for anytime soon. Maybe one day. But my career’s associated with a high divorce rate.” Mostly because musicians have a hard time keeping their dicks in their own pants while on tour. And while Nolan and Jared weren’t the type to cheat on the women they loved, they were a rarity.

“I guess that’s true,” she said. “It’s the same with actors, especially when they’re married to other actors. Someone is always away on location. Must make for a lonely life.” And a lot of cheating, if what I’d heard about the Hollywood scene was anything to go by.

Nicole glanced at me, as if to determine whether or not my life was lonely. I guess that depended on how you defined lonely.

Not wanting her to come to her own conclusions, I picked up the pace, to poor Bernie’s dismay. Nicole tugged on his leash as she tried to keep up with me.

We finished our walk, which was a lot shorter than I’d expected…but I doubted Bernie would have agreed with me. He looked ready to take a good long nap. We said goodbye to him, with the promise to walk him again in a few hours, and left his house.

At Nicole’s home, she unlocked the front door, then threw her body against it as she turned the handle. The door remained stuck for a second, then gave way. She stumbled through the doorway with an unfazed expression.

And I mentally added “fix front door” to my to-do list.