A Beautiful Rock (8 page)

Sandra left not long after we had our ‘discussion’ about Marcus, and I’ve spent the rest of the evening wondering if I should call him. Then I realise he’s probably busy at some party.

Instead I keep composing different text messages to him
without actually sending them. Some of them have said ‘sorry’ for blowing up. Others have read more like a break up letter.

The latest one simply says
– Call me plz. Lisa x

Initially it had three x’s there, but I
’ve deleted two, feeling worried that he might think I was trying to say that I’m X-rated or something… Now, I’m just staring at it, wondering if I should change the x to a smiley face or something. I don’t want to send him something that is going to give him the wrong impression, but I don’t want to send him something that’s going to make him feel like if he calls me I’m just going to yell at him again….

Shit. I’m over thinking this. I know. I’m just
struggling here. I need to talk to him and tell him that while I think he’s a great guy, I just can’t see him anymore. I think it will be best for both of us.

Before I get the chance to send him any message
, my phone jumps to life in my hand and Marcus’s face smiles at me in his hat and glasses as the word ‘Dude’ flashes up on my screen.

For a while, I just look
at him smiling at me. What is it about this guy? I already feel like I’m going to agree to anything he asks.

“Stick to your guns Lisa. You know this can’t end well.”
I take a deep breath and swipe my thumb across the screen to answer. “Hello.”

“I’m so sorry about taking off with your car today,” he says in rush of breath. “I feel awful
. I just… I feel like I’m messing this up Lisa. And I don’t want to.”

“It’s not you Marcus. It’s me. I’m the one who started attacking you.
” I press my lips together as tears sting the backs of my eyes. “I…I do like you Marcus. I think you’re charming and funny, and if you weren’t who you are, then I could see us being great friends. But the fact of the matter is – you are who you are and I think we should end whatever this is between us before one of us gets very hurt.”

I hear him let out his breath slowly.
“I’m not going to hurt you Lisa.”

“I don’t think you’re planning to.
It’ll just happen all by itself.” I close my eyes. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me Marcus. I think it’s best that you live your life, and I live mine. I chose my life for a reason. I don’t want a life in the spotlight. I just want to be me, and I can’t see myself being able to do that if I’m connected to you.”

“No,” he says in response.

My eyes pop open. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I
mean, no. I’m not letting this go. Lisa, you’re the first woman I’ve wanted to spend time with in… forever.”

I laugh sarcastically. “You and I both know that isn’t true Marcus. You’ve spent plenty of time with plenty of women.”

“I’m not saying I haven’t been with women because we both know that I have. I’m saying that I’ve never taken the time to get to know one before.”

“That’s not
true either. What about Naomi Prendergast? You told the world you loved her before you humiliated her on stage. You must have known her.”

“
I already explained that to you. At the time, I thought I loved her. But on reflection, I know it was some stupid one-sided competition against my brother. I spent all of my time with her flirting. With you, it’s different. I like spending time with you. Even if you never return any sort of affection, I still
like
you.”

“What about Sandra Hagen?”

“Who? What are you talking about? Isn’t she the reporter you covered for?”

“She’s
also my best friend - and one of your conquests. You spent an entire weekend ‘getting to know her’ and now you don’t even remember her,” I accuse, needing to make him see that his lifestyle isn’t something I can cope with.

“That was a different time in my life, Lisa. I’m not interested in that kind of relationship anymore. I’m interested in you.”

I sigh, and shake my head. I can’t let myself fall for his lines. I know what’s best for me. And it isn’t him. A tear escapes my eye and slides down my cheek, betraying my internal dialogue. “You only want me, because I’m saying no. If I had slept with you the moment we met, you wouldn’t give me a second thought. I’d just be another face in a sea of women. I told you not to pursue me Marcus. I told you that this wasn’t a game. Please. Just let’s end this.”

There’s a long pause before he finally speaks.
“I’m sorry, Lisa. My answer is still no,” he says in response, his voice practically a whisper as the line goes dead.

I sit there, with my phone still pressed to my ear
and my mouth slightly open as I blink away the tears that are threatening to spill from my eyes. Why can't he just accept that this won't work?

By the time I get home
it’s after nine, and I’m so fucking on edge right now that I can't stay still. I spend a good ten minutes just pacing back and forth in my lounge room, talking to myself about why Lisa is wrong.

There isn’t one personal detail out there about me that I haven’t known would get out. In my daily life, I’m no one. I go
out, I buy my own food, I go to dinner, I even go to the fucking movies, and no one notices me –
unless I want them to.

Countless celebrity couples manage to live a very normal life. I’m not saying that we have to become a couple, but I am saying that we can
see each other – we can at least be
friends
- without the risk of her fucking privacy being compromised.

What the hell
is her issue anyway? She’s an advertising coordinator at a magazine. I couldn’t find a single personal thing about her online. As far as I can tell, she leads a very quiet and normal life and as much as she is interesting to me, I can’t see her being very interesting to the press.

I just… fuck… I don’t fucking know.

I stop pacing and put my hands on my hips as I contemplate going to her house and trying to talk some sense in to her, but I’m pretty sure that isn't going to work right now. She seems pretty dead against anything between us right now… I need to give her some space.

Walking into my bedroom
, I quickly change into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and head towards my home gym. On the treadmill, I increase the speed until I'm running flat chat. I figure if I push my body hard enough, I won't be able to think any more. But that's not the case. If anything, it seems to make me focus more.

I think about all the women.
There are so many, I don't think I could count them if I had a gun aimed at my head. And I think about Lisa and wonder how I'm going to get her to understand that her face is the only one I see, and the only one I'll ever care to remember.

Suddenly,
the words to a song start to enter my mind and I immediately slow the treadmill to a stop and run into my studio, grabbing for my journal and a pen and I start to write.

If only…

“Get dressed. I’m coming over, and I’m going to take you out,” Sandra says on the other end of the phone.

Even though she seemed upset with me over my friendship with Marcus, she didn’t let it get in the way of our own friendship.
I think from where she was standing, she couldn’t understand why I’d want to travel down a path she’s already been down and come back feeling hurt and dejected because of it.

I shake my head.
“No. I’m really not in the mood, Sandra.”

Two
weeks have passed since I last saw or spoke to Marcus. I’m hoping he got the message and he’s going to leave me alone from now on.

I’m not going to lie and say that I’m glad things are over. Because I’m not. I would actually go as far as saying that I’ve spent
every day expecting him to call. I mean, he said ‘no’. I’ve actually jumped each time the phone has rung, and I swear Perry is messing with me by constantly going to the door as if someone is there…

This
‘staying the course’ thing is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I really do like the guy and I wouldn’t be a woman if I wasn’t attracted to him in some way. But I know in my gut that I’m doing the right thing. Even if he does make contact, I need to stay strong and stay away.

“I know it’s been a shitty
couple of weeks. And I’m part of the reason why it’s been shit, so I’m going to do something to make it better. Put on a pretty dress and some make up and we’ll hit the town.”

“Can’t we just go and see a movie or something?” I whine, not really interested in going clubbing with her.

“Relax. I won’t take you clubbing. There’s plenty more we can do in the city. I have something that’s your flavour. Don’t worry yourself about it, ok? I just want to take you out and help get your mind off things. I’ll be there in an hour. Be ready.”

With that she disconnects and I look down at Perry who is looking at me with very interested eyes. “Looks l
ike I’m going out,” I tell him, and his tail starts to wag excitedly.

“Sorry mate, it’s not with him.
I’ve already told you, we can’t see him anymore. It won’t work out for any of us.”

He makes a small noise in response, and I know that he gets me. Of course he gets me. He’s the only one who knows all of my secrets.

***

“Lookin’ hot there mama,” Sandra says
, as I answer the door. I’m wearing a knee length, black cocktail dress. It’s some sort of designer outfit that I still have left over from times gone by. I kept it because it’s still appropriate for most evening occasions.

I give her a smile and
tilt my head to usher her inside as I continue putting my earrings in. I’m also not sure where my other shoe is, but I’m just about ready. I have my hair and make-up done and my clutch purse ready to go. It’s just that elusive shoe I still need… “Aha!” I call out, remembering that I saw it tucked under my bed a few days ago.

Exiting my room with both shoes on, I finally look at Sandra properly.
“You look lovely yourself. Very hip. Where exactly are we going?”

Sandra is wearing a
royal blue fitted dress that hugs her curves and shows off her shapely legs. The neckline is a see through lace that stops just above her breasts. She’s also wearing these giant heels that make her almost as tall as me. Almost. She’s pretty small.

She runs her hand over her wavy,
blonde hair. “Oh, we’re just going to this little place I heard of for dinner and drinks. They put on a show for you while you eat. I think you’ll really enjoy it.”

“What kind of show?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” she laughs. “Just wait. I promise, you’ll love it.”

***

We pull up out the front of non-descript looking building that only has a few lights above the entrance and a bouncer standing guard and checking names as a long line of people wait to get in. There’s a chalkboard that advertises a dinner service and a live performance by someone called ‘Belle Adams’.

“I thought we weren’t going to a club,” I state, noticing the state of dress most of those waiting in line are in. “
What is this place?”

She
approaches the front of the line and gives her name and nominates me as her plus one so we are allowed inside before she answers me. “I told you. It’s dinner, drinks and a show. You are going to love Belle Adams. She sounds just like Janis Joplin. The resemblance is uncanny. I’m actually interviewing her after her show so you’ll get to meet her if you like.”

I look around the dimly lit room as we’re led to our table
. Most of the tables are occupied on both levels, and I recognise more than a few faces.

“Why did you bring me here?” I whisper, a little panicked that
I’m going to get recognised myself. My hair is dark now, whereas back when they knew me, I was bleached blonde, but still...

“Relax. It’s not your typical gig
. If you can’t sit at a table, you don’t get to come in until after the dinner service. By that time, we’ll be backstage, so you won’t have to worry about crowds. I know how much you hate them,” she smiles, sitting back as the waiter places her linen napkin over her lap.

Inside, I start to panic. “Backstage?” I squeak.

“Of course. What’s wrong? Oh, are you worried Marcus will be there? I doubt he would be. Look, his brother is here and those two don’t talk.”

My eyes flick to where she indicates and I see the girl Naomi and Marcus’s brother Theo
sitting together looking just as attractive as their photos make them. “I don’t go to gigs, Sandra. You need to take me home.”

She places her hands on her hips and gives me a stern look.
“Lisa, relax. We’re here to have a good time. I promise you, it’s won’t be awful music. I wouldn’t have brought you if I didn’t think you’d like the music.”

“It’s not the music I’m worried about,” I s
ay, pulling at loose strands of my hair so they’re framing my face a bit more.

She smiles and shakes her head as if I’m just being the neurotic friend
. “Don’t ruin what could be a fun night, Lisa. It took a lot for me to get an invite to this gig, so can you at least pretend to have fun? We’ll watch the show, I’ll do the interview and we can leave. You’ll be back home before you turn back into a pumpkin.”

T
he waiter arrives and asks if we’d like something to drink then he announces the specials of the evening.

Sandra orders a glass of Pinot Noir
which he jots down on his notepad.

“And for you miss?” he turns to me.

“A glass of Sauv Blanc, please.” As he turns to leave, I grab his arm. “Actually, make that a bottle.”

“Of course,” he nods.

“Nervous much?”

“I’m fine,” I tell her, hunting through my bag
as a way to keep my head down.

“Lisa, you have to relax. He won’t be here. He’s probably at some A-list party or something. I’m sure there is nothing for you to worry about.”

"I'm fine," I repeat, just as my hand lands on my glasses case. I pull them out and put them on. “My eyes are sore,” I explain, before pulling out my travel make up kit and swiping a darker shade of lipstick over my lips. I feel as though all I have right now is the Superman disguise.

“And your lips are dry? What’s going on?” Sandra frowns.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," I say with a shrug, gratefully accepting the glass and bottle of wine as the waiter brings it over. "Thank you." I lift my glass and take a large gulp, noticing Sandra’s curious gaze as she watches me nervously fidget. “
I’m fine,
” I insist.

"If you say so,"
she says with a bounce of her shoulders as she starts to look around the room. "Do you want me to introduce you to anyone?"

I shak
e my head quickly. "No. Thanks though… I'll be fine here watching the show.”

“Ok
. That’s fine.” She sits and looks around the room for a moment longer, occasionally waving to someone she knows.

“It’s alright by me if you want to go and say hi. I’m fine on my own.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” I smile. “Please
go and have fun.”

She bites her lip and smiles, pausing just before she stands up. “I promise not to take too long.”

“Take as long as you need.”

I follow her with my eyes as she makes her way across the room
but look away when she motions toward me. I figure she’s saying that she’s here with a friend, so they’re looking to see whom she’s with. I pull my phone out of my purse and start to go through my emails. I’d rather keep my head down and look busy. Once the show starts, there won’t be time for mingling. I just need to get through this part. If someone as famous as Marcus can go out without being noticed, then I’m sure I can too... Although, he doesn’t go out to places like this without getting noticed… oh shit… I feel doomed.

Sandra
mingles for a good half an hour before the lights dim a little further and it’s announced that the show is about to start. At the same time, our first course is brought around. Basically, we’re being served like we’re at a wedding or something. There is a set menu and we are alternately given one of three dishes.

I end up with
an antipasto plate for my starter, while Sandra gets a bowl of potato and leek soup. “Have fun?” I ask as she takes her seat and surveys her food.

“Yeah. Just catching up. Although, funny thing. A couple of people thought they knew you from somewhere
.”

I let out a burst of nervous laughter. “Strange,” I tell her quickly,
stabbing at my food with my fork. “Perhaps I just look like someone?”

“It’s possible. You do look very classy with your
hair up in a bun like that. They probably think you’re some big star. Maybe we should have some fun with them. You could talk in an American accent and keep them guessing the whole time.”

Laughing, I nod. “That could actually be a lot of fun. But no.
I don’t need the attention. Anyway, time to be quiet. Bella Adams is just about to come out. I can see her in the wings.”

Sandra schooches her
chair closer to mine so she has a better view of the stage, then reaches over and steals my olives. I nudge her with my shoulder as she laughs as we settle in to watch the show.

Just as Sandra described, Bella Adams really does sound like a modern Janis Joplin. Her music has a different sound
though, which is really nice to hear. I think she’s trying to set herself apart, which I really respect because it would be hard to do your own thing when you’re being so heavily compared to a legend. It’s why I never did anything with my music – I’d forever be compared to my father.

By the fourth song, our dinner has been served
, and I’m eating a beautiful prosciutto wrapped chicken with asparagus and capsicum with a cheesy sauce on the side. Sandra has a salmon steak with béarnaise sauce, capers and a rocket salad. She reaches over and steals some of my food again. I don’t mind though, she’s been doing this kind of thing to me since we first met, so it’s expected now.

When dessert comes around, I just hand her mine. I don’t really have that much of a sweet tooth and I’d much rather that my
calories came from drinking my bottle of wine than from a slice of lemon cheesecake.

By the time the show is over, I’m cheering and clapping along with everyone else. I’ve really enjoyed listening to her and the
good part of a full bottle of wine has really helped me relax into the night instead of constantly looking over my shoulder.

When Bella Adams thanks everyone for coming, I know that it’s almost time to
go back stage so Sandra can do her interview before the second show starts for the general public.

From what Sandra has told me, there will be a few other artists
coming on stage and then Bella will once again perform before closing time. It’s quite the event here each Saturday night, and only those ‘in the know’ actually get the chance to come.

I down the last of my wine and stand to follow Sandra when she
takes a hold of my arm to lead me backstage. There’s no one checking our backstage status or anything, so I think the fact that we were at the dinner part of the show means that we are ‘special’ enough to mingle with the talent.

My head feels a little fuzzy as I teeter along behind her
but I’m still sober enough to know to keep my head down and not make eye contact with anyone.

“Ok, you take a seat here and I’ll go and get my interview done with Bella. After that, we can either stay and hang out, or go home. It’s up to you, ok?”

“Sure,” I say with a smile, fully intending to make her leave as soon as she’s done. I stand and cross the room to a wall that’s covered with framed black and white photos. They all feature the artists that have played here since they opened. I pause for a while and study a black and white of Marcus with his old band. In the image, his eyes are closed as he sings. He looks like he’s really feeling what he’s singing and I wonder where that guy is. He doesn’t seem to enjoy his craft as much anymore.