Ozzy

 

 

THIS MORNING’S SWIM felt better than the previous ones. I did my mile in record time. Must have been my conversation with McKenna last night. She explained so many things—why she never sleeps here, why she misses my concerts, her preoccupation with money, even an ex-boyfriend. It’s not like I’ve never had women before. Fuck, she knows all about Teresa.

Clearing the air between us fuels my morning positive attitude.

Humming my newest song, I tie my sneakers. When I get all the songs written for my new album, I’ll use my check from Platinum to help McKenna with her mother. She seems to want to keep her at home, so I’ll look into adding another nurse to the cycle. Maybe even a live-in nurse—so McKenna can move in with me.

Whoa.

Sitting on the bed, I let the realization that I want her to move in roll through me. Followed by another—I’m not going to be here past the end of the year, when my residency at the Jade ends. I’ll be in LA, then on tour. McKenna’ll have to come out with me. Since she’s a graphic designer, she can work anywhere with an internet connection. And if her mother’s being taken care of, there’s no reason she can’t be at my side. So different from Teresa’s having to stay behind.

Smiling at the easy resolution, I go to the kitchen and start a late breakfast. Picturing McKenna in here with me.

As I’m washing out the blender from my protein shake, the doorbell rings. I need to give McKenna a key. Rubbing my hands on my T-shirt, I race to the front door, eager to hold my girl. Bans joins me, barking. “Sit,” I order, knowing how nervous McKenna is around my dog.

“Morning, Dulc—”

My voice cuts off when I open the door to Ginger and Luis standing on the step. I hold it partway open, my knuckles turning white. “Ginger.” At my side, Bans doesn’t move a muscle, but growls. I don’t correct her.

Ignoring my obvious omission of acknowledging her guest, Ginger pushes past me and crosses the threshold uninvited. “Ozzy.” Not addressing her, I lock eyes with my former best friend. Ginger calls over her shoulder, “Luis, please come in.”

I step to the middle of the doorway, Bans at my heel. Smart girl, she can smell a rat when she sees one. “You’re not invited.”

Ginger’s footsteps return to my side. “Ozzy, let him in. We need to talk. Platinum’s orders.”

Feeling the walls closing in, I say in a hard voice, “In the office.”

“Fine.” Ginger turns and leads the way, followed by Luis. I bring up the rear with Bans, imagining all sorts of ways I can kill him and hide his body. Bans would be an innocent accomplice. When we’re all in the room, Ginger nods at Bans. “Can this be humans only?”

Seeing no way out, I point toward the door. Bans barks but follows my command. I leave the door open in case I have a change of heart and decide to let her tear his guts apart.

Ginger begins, “Listen. I don’t know or care what went down between you two. All Platinum cares about is that Ozzy’s next album is in the recording booth come January. Meaning twelve new songs. Eleven more than you have, Ozzy.”

I hate letting Luis see me in a position of weakness. I didn’t want to share about the progress I’ve made writing, but seeing no other option, I state, “I have three more written, and more in the works.”

She blinks. “Well, that’s good.” Pointing at Luis, she continues, “But you wrote your first album with Luis, which included six number ones. He’s here to collaborate with you to ensure the magic happens again.”

“No.”

Ginger plants her hands at her waist.

Luis taps his hat. “Listen, bro—”

“Don’t ‘bro’ me, you asshole.” I don’t care if Ginger’s here or not.

He plays with his fedora. “We were a great writing team. Our songs lived at the top of the charts for months. We can do it again.”

“No.”

“Platinum’s not asking, Ozzy. We need you to get your next album to the studio in a few weeks. Luis can make this happen.”

My eyes swing to my rep. “My band has been collaborating with me. He,” I nod toward the asshole standing in my office, “isn’t needed. Or welcome.”

Ginger huffs. “You two need to work whatever this is out.” She motions between the two of us. “I’m going to leave. This isn’t a request.” Before she reaches the door, Ginger pulls a pill bottle out of her purse and tosses it to me. “This should help ease the tension.” She walks out of the room.

Bans barks and Ginger yells for her to stay down. Luis watches as I play with the pill bottle, neither one of us uttering a word. After a minute, the golden retriever returns to my side, growling at Luis.

“Sit.”

Luis drags his eyes away from the drugs. After a long moment, he walks over to a chair and slouches down like he owns the place, while the real object of my command sits at my feet. I smirk. Patting her head, I praise, “Good, Bans.”

Remaining where I stand, I look down on the weasel. “I don’t need you. Go.”

He gives the drugs another hard stare, then stands. Which doesn’t raise his stature much. “You heard Ginger. Platinum wants me here.”

“Need the money?” I snap my fingers. “I guess you do since the bitch dumped your ass.”

“Royalty checks keep me flush.” He pauses. “Your new girlfriend could be her gringa carbon copy, you know. Although, fatter.”

I’m on top of the asshole before he takes his next breath. Grabbing his shirt and twisting, I say, “Keep McKenna out of it. You don’t deserve to hold her purse.” I continue twisting my fist under his chin, cutting off his windpipe. Bans barks at my feet.

He raises his hands in surrender, and I drop mine. Bans keeps guard. “Even you have to admit that she looks a lot like Teresa,” he says between wheezes.

I never consciously compared the two women. And I won’t now. “They’re nothing alike,” I grit out.

Straightening, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope. “Look, even though Teresa and I broke up, we’re still friends. She wants you to have this.” He extends his hand.

I don’t move.

He drops the envelope onto the desk. “Read it. Or not. I don’t give a fuck. You’re nothing but a lowlife who rode my coattails to success anyway. Without me, you’re nothing. Just look at the position you’re in.”

“Now the true Luis comes out. Was wondering where the shithead was.”

“Yeah, well, while you’re singing the songs I wrote, I’m back in PR working my ass off.” He fluffs his blazer and looks around. “Nice digs, by the way. It wouldn’t hurt you to show me a little respect since you wouldn’t have any of this if it weren’t for me, bro.”

I can’t resist. “Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t look like a strung-out slob all the time, Platinum would have been willing to sign you. But you’re too busy scrounging around for scraps to give a shit. And it shows. If you’re looking for respect, bro, maybe you should try asking yourself for some.”

He’s on me this time. Or tries to be. Bans latches onto his leg and won’t let go. I laugh at the unlikely sight. He shakes his leg. “Get off!”

Bans hangs on as if he were a chew toy, causing me to laugh even harder.

I cross my arms. “They say dogs are excellent judges of characters. Looks like she has you pegged.” I watch for another few seconds, then call her off and send her out of the office.

Alone with Luis, we stare at each other. For the second time, I take in his skeletal appearance. “Here’s your first test.” I walk over to the pill bottle Ginger left behind and toss it to him. He catches it and rolls the container between his fingers.

Popping the top, Luis peers into the cylinder. “Molly. More your speed. And here you are lecturing me about how to live my life.” He throws it back to me and I put it on the desk.

We remain at a standstill.

Luis sighs. “We’re not going to write any songs, are we?”

“No.”

His body turns in onto itself. “Fine. I’ll see myself out.”

“Hell no. I’m tossing you out.” I escort/drag him out of the office and through the front door. Slamming it shut, I rest against it. Bans races up to me and I bend down to thank her for protecting me. In return, she licks my cheek off.

After washing my face, I go out to the patio with her and throw the ball, working off the nervous energy left behind by my ex-best friend.

My mind drifts to the office where Teresa’s letter awaits me. Why should I read more of her poison? McKenna’s words float through my head, about how I didn’t listen to her when we were married. Sure, I was physically faithful, but did I give her my attention?

My feet lead me into the office, where I take her letter out of its envelope. Her penmanship is unmistakable. I pour myself some whiskey and return to the patio, placing the letter onto the table and taking a sip of the amber liquid.

A breeze picks up and the notebook paper blows, causing me to clamp it down. Fine. I’ll read what she has to say. Then, I’ll burn it and be done.

 

Ozzy,

I’ve started writing you several letters, but always got stuck. When Luis told me Platinum is sending him to you to write more songs, I knew I had to finish this one. It might be my last chance to communicate with you.

We got married when I was young. You weren’t there to share college with me. When we talked, I brought up what was going on in my life, but you never seemed too interested. If I mentioned a guy ~ even my professor ~ you always got so jealous.

And I was so hurt that you didn’t wear my wedding ring when you were away. I know it was Platinum’s idea, but all the photos of you at parties gutted me. But that’s no excuse for what happened.

Luis was on the island when you weren’t. He listened to me. He encouraged me to pursue my dreams. I never meant for you to find out about us the way you did.

My life is different now. I got a job in the government and Luis and I are just friends. I hope someday we can be friends, too.

I did love you. If nothing else, please believe that.

I truly wish you all the best.

Fondly,

Teresa

 

Well, shit. My brain transports me back and I go through our conversations again. Teresa’s not wrong. McKenna pointed this out right away. But, still—I never cheated on my wife.

I’m brought up short. I haven’t referred to Teresa as my wife in years.

Mind in disarray, I reach out for my lifeline and text McKenna. Not my usual smartass line, but instead I ask if she can come over. Her response is immediate and affirmative.

Standing, I bring the now-crumpled notebook paper into the office and drop it on the desk next to the clock, which reads noon. Maybe I’ll show it to McKenna. Maybe not—no need to prove I was a total jerk. Best to let her only think I was, no confirmation needed.

I’m in no mood to cook so I pull out a takeout Mexican menu and place an order for our dinner to be delivered later. Then, I pull two bottles out of the fridge. McKenna rings the bell less than an hour later. Bans beats me to the door, growling.

“Bans, no. The bad people are gone.” She seems to understand what I say as she turns and walks to her bed.

I open the door and the sunlight hits McKenna as if it were a spotlight. Pulled forward, I wrap her in my arms. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

She returns my embrace. “I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me again, after last night.”

Looking down at her, I shake my head. “No way. Only made me more intrigued. Come on in.” As she passes, I inquire about her mother.

“She’s much better this morning, thanks for asking. Elaine, her day nurse, is with her now.”

When we reach the patio, I hand her a Mexican cerveza. “I ordered Mexican for dinner, hope that’s okay?”

She clinks the necks of our bottles together. “More than okay.”

We smile and enjoy the relative cool breeze and drink our beers. We discuss her mother’s condition, and how much Elaine takes some of the burden from her shoulders. I’m impressed with my girl’s resilience.

She puts her bottle down on the concrete. “What’s wrong?”

I finish off my beer. “That obvious?”

Her lips curl upward, into a half-smile. “I’m getting to know Ozzy-isms.”

“Yeah, well.” I cross my leg over my knee. “Ginger brought Luis here today. She expected us to write the rest of the album together.”

She gasps. “I hope you told them to pound sand.”

A small chuckle escapes, despite my mood. “I kinda did. I told Ginger I’ve written a few songs and don’t need his help. I let her know my band is my new collaborator.” I pause. “I should’ve said I have a super-sexy and inspiring new muse, too.”

I reach out and grab her by the middle and drag her onto my lap. Both of her legs dangle off the side of my right one. Tracing her leg with my fingertip, I say, “Because I do.”

She giggles. “I’ve never been a muse before.” Her eyes get wide. “Do I have to do anything special?”

All thoughts about Luis and Ginger and Teresa and songs flee, as images of how McKenna can “feed my muse” overtake them. Over a harsh intake of breath, I lean into her ear, “Oh, yes. There are several things you have to do to keep my muse pumping out songs.”

A shaky hand runs through her hair. “Really? Like what? I mean, I want you to keep pumping.” Her fingers trail down the center of my chest, stopping at my belt buckle.

My cock strains against my zipper. Grabbing her hand and abandoning it on top of my hardness, I kiss her neck. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

She squeezes and I nearly jump out of the chair. Groaning, I encourage her. The buckle opens and she pulls my cock out, her hand running its length. At the top, she stops and swirls her thumb over the drop of pre-cum that’s leaked. She brings it to her mouth.

“Mmmm.”

The doorbell rings.

I drop my head backward. “Fuck. Dinner’s here.”

She giggles and jumps off me. “I’ll get it. You better stay here and take care of him.” She points to my cock, which is pleading for her to continue what she was doing.

While she gets our dinner, I take off my sneakers. I want my dessert before the main course today. Besides, I’m not sure I could stand unless it was to plow into her tight body.

Rustling of bags snags my attention. McKenna asks, “Want to eat out here?”

“I definitely want to eat you out here.”

She squeaks and drops the bags onto the table. “You’re not dressed.”

“But you are. Let me change that.” And I do.

Much later, we sit with our feet in the swimming pool, all of our appetites fulfilled for the moment. My eyes roam over McKenna’s body, for the first time noting the similarities between her and Teresa. While Teresa was short and skinny with huge tits, brown hair and brown eyes, McKenna’s curvy. More to hold onto, in my book. Plus, her hair is more imaginative, if that’s the word for it, since she’s always changing up the color streak. It’s part of her style and flair. And her eyes. Brown, yes, but more of a latte that change with her mood—blazing when she’s feisty, darker when she’s horny, dancing when she’s happy. No. She’s all woman with deeply-held responsibilities where Teresa was a girl.

“Penny.”

“What?”

She taps my forehead. “A penny for your thoughts.”

I smile. “I was thinking you’re all woman, and I’m really glad that you’re all mine.”

Her teeth overtake her bottom lip. “You sure know how to woo a girl.” She stands. “Let’s get some work done before you try to get in my pants again.”

We both get to our feet and head inside. Instead of heading down the hallway toward the music room, McKenna turns toward the office. “Let’s work in here for a change, okay?”

I shrug. Doesn’t matter much to me so long as I have McKenna and my guitar with me. In that order. Smiling as I make my way to the music room, I gather my guitar, sheet music and a pencil. For a day that started out like shit, it sure has turned around. All because of McKenna.

Entering the office, I stop as if I hit a brick wall. McKenna’s expressive eyes now are nearly slits and she’s holding out the drugs Ginger left for me.

“What’s this?” she demands, shaking the container. The pills clink inside the bottle.

I reach for it but she pulls away. “Just something Ginger left for me and Luis. Thought it would help us write better, I guess.”

For each step I take toward her, she takes another backward. Abandoning our dance, she holds her ground. Eyeing me up and down, she asks, “And did you?”

“Partake?” I shake my head. “No.” Her expression remains the same—all jerky movements, quick breaths and rigid posture. I grab for the pills again. “What’s up?”

She swallows, and her throat expands and contracts. She seems to weigh her responses, finally saying, “I don’t want drugs near me. Anything stronger than an Advil is forbidden.”

Forbidden? “Listen, it’s not like I do them all the time.”

“You were high at Rose and Cole’s wedding.”

“Well, yeah, but I needed the escape. I had just signed the divorce settlement.” And made a ten million-dollar wire transfer.

“Not an excuse.”

I grab the pills from her and toss them onto the desk. They land on top of Teresa’s note. Wonderful. “Can’t go back in time, McKenna. But, I didn’t take any of these.”

Her eyes roll. “Flush them.”

“What?”

She crosses her arms across her chest and nods to the pills. With McKenna, I haven’t felt like getting high—probably because she gives me a natural one. I shrug and head to the bathroom. Tossing the pills down the toilet, I flush them good-bye.

When I return to the office, McKenna sits on a chair, her head in her hands. Going onto my knees next to her, I rub her back. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

Without lifting her head, she shakes it. “Suffice it to say I had a bad experience and can’t stand the sight of drugs now.”

I squeeze her shoulder. “Fine. I don’t do them often, so it’s not a big deal.” Her head pops up, tear tracks left behind on her cheeks. I want to know why she’s reacting like this, but now’s not the time. Trying to lighten the mood, I quip, “Now, if you had something against rum, we’d have to talk.”

A reluctant smile crosses her face. “No. I’m good with rum.” She swipes her cheek.

I tip her chin upward. “The only thing I want from you is honesty. If drugs make you,” I search for the right word. Settling for “uncomfortable,” I continue, “There won’t be any in the house. So long as you’re here with me, I’m good.”

“What did I do to deserve someone like you?”

I look around. “Someone? Hello, you have the real thing.” I pound on my chest.

She taps my pecs, then eases her arms around my neck. “I am one lucky lady.”

 

 

“ARE YOU SURE you can’t come to my concert tonight? I always perform better when you’re in the audience.”

She shakes her head. “I really can’t. I’ve left Mom home alone at night too often and, well, you saw the net result last night. I want to stay with her to make sure she’s safe.”

Can’t argue with her but, damn, I’m going to miss her. Her next statement leaves me flabbergasted.

“Oh, and I have a meeting tomorrow, so I probably won’t be able to make it over here at all.”

Oh, hell no. “What’s more important than working on the songs for the Project? I thought everything hinges on that.” I pause. “For both of us.”

Her lips purse and her eyes drift to the side. “I need,” she blinks, “I have to bring Mom to the doctor and it usually takes hours. I’m sorry.”

I can’t argue with her about her mother. Yet, something in her stance leads me to believe there’s more to it than she’s telling me. “Want company?”

She puts her laptop into its case. “No. I’ve got it. You work on your songs.” She walks toward the door.

“Hey, McKenna.”

Halting midway through the office, she swivels her head. “Yes?”

I open a desk drawer, pulling out an extra key. Handing it to her, I say, “Here. I want you to have access to me anytime.”

Her fingers close around the symbol of my commitment to her, even if she doesn’t recognize it as such. “Thanks, Ozzy. This means a lot to me.” She returns to my side and gives me a very thorough kiss.

Once she’s gone, a contentment I haven’t felt in years—if ever—washes over me. McKenna’s really taking up residence in my life.

And I like it.