Fallen Angel (11 page)

He’s already at the front door when my mouth opens and the words just fucking fall out.

“How did you know? Back then...that things were different with Hudson?”

He stares at me for a second. Then smiles. “I just did. Everything came so easily. Being with him was the most natural thing in the world. It changed things. Changed me.”

I nod. Because I think I get it now. In a way I never thought I ever would. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I want to know?”

He grins, like he fucking knows. “Nope.”

And then he leaves, and for the first time in a long while I notice how the sun shines through the cracks in the blinds. Light. It’s time for some fucking light again.

“Y
ou look awfully awake for this time of day.” Blaise smirks at me from across the kitchen.

“Look who’s talking.” None of us are morning people. Of course, I can’t blame my inability to get up before noon on my rock star lifestyle. Yet. In the meantime, there was no way I was going to oversleep today. Not when I’ve been bouncing off the walls ever since Ava told me last night that Brett agreed to give me the gig. It’s my first day and I’m determined to be the best intern he’s ever had. Starting with being there on time. Provided Ava ever gets out of the shower. Since she’s my ride and all.

“What’s up with your sudden interest in music anyway?” Blaise is slurping away at some nasty looking protein shake. It’s lumpy and I can smell something fishy. Literally.

“I don’t know why everyone thinks it’s so sudden. Doesn’t anyone remember me sitting on my dad’s old workbench during every single band practice back in the day?” I pour myself a cup of coffee. My second already, but since I hardly slept last night, and the adrenaline of starting my dream job is bound to wear off eventually, I have a feeling I can use every last drop of caffeine I can get my hands on today.

“Yeah, I remember you being there. Pretty sure that had less to do with the music and more to do with our drummer though.” He’s got a shit eating grin that makes me want to shove his face into that nasty-ass smoothie of his.

“Screw you, B.”

“I believe that’s my job.” Ava snickers at her own stupid joke as she makes a beeline for the coffee maker. Considering I only heard the shower go off a few minutes ago, I’m a little stunned at how put together she looks. I swear the woman has a stash of gay elves tucked away in her closet. I picture this whole Cinderella moment with the birds and mice situation from the first scene of the movie. Only in my head, it’s Ava and her gay elves, all of whom are dressed in hot pink suits with giant feathers in their little caps as they gather around her to apply make-up, style her hair and dress her in record time. Because seriously, not a hair is out of place and I know her complexion doesn’t naturally look as though it’s been airbrushed.

“How many does it take to look like that?” I whisper, leaning close to get a better look at her eye shadow.

She pulls back, eyeing me with a healthy combo of mistrust and discomfort. “How many ‘what’ does it take?”

“Gay elves. How many? I know you have them. I mean, I spent an hour getting ready and I still only look like this.”

Blaise laughs out loud.

Ava is less impressed. “You’re an idiot. This is left over from last night. We had an appearance, remember? Jules came by to get me ready before and this crap is like permanent lacquer. Plus, I overslept, so I didn’t have time to wash my hair. This is not the result of magic homosexual elves, or even extra effort on my part. It’s merely a side effect of exerting no effort whatsoever.”

Now that she mentions it, I do remember Jules coming over. I guess I spaced it since I wasn’t included in the outing. While Ava was getting ready for a night of glamor and general fabulousness, I’d split off and snuck into this dive bar on the edge of town to check out a new band I’d heard about from this kid Dexter back at school. We weren’t friends so much as I just stalked him on Twitter. He was the school paper’s music reviewer and he knew where all the happening new sounds were coming from.

Apparently, I’ve been silent a while. It’s a bad habit of mine. Internalizing my own dialogue, following random trails of thought. Gives other people way too much time to read into my silence. Kinda like Ava is doing now.

“Where were you last night anyway?”

Living with my sister and Blaise had seemed like a good idea when I got kicked out of school and had nowhere to go. Now, I’m starting to have mixed feelings about it more and more frequently. Not that living with them doesn’t come with a great deal of perks. I mean, the house alone is like something straight out of an episode of MTV Cribs.

But, regardless of how nice it is to have an entire corner of the house to myself, or how sweet the Jag is Blaise finally decided was my permanent ride, there simply is no compensating for the fact that I have apparently forfeited all rights to my freedom, along with any sense of privacy, by moving in. Ava is in my business every second of every motherfucking day, and it’s really starting to wear on me.

“Relax, Eda. I was just up the road at the Bistro.” A real shit hole that didn’t think twice about ignoring the fact that I forgot my ID and I don’t exactly look old for my age.

“Fantastic.” Ava rolls her eyes at me. “I thought we agreed. It’s time to grow the fuck up, Addy.”

“Shit, Eda. What exactly is so non-adult like about me going out to listen to some music? I didn’t drink and I was home way before you. I really don’t see what the fucking problem is.” I yank my giant hobo bag off the counter and stomp my feet all the way to the front door. I have no freaking clue which car we’re taking and I’ve never been to the studio, so I can’t drive myself, which leaves me standing in the driveway pouting like a four year old. And suddenly I feel like Ava’s little outburst, condescending as it was, is all the more accurate.

Thankfully, Ava and Blaise aren’t far behind and I don’t have time to change my mind about waiting outside and walking back in with the proverbial tail stuck between my legs.

My sister stops right next to me, tilting her head down to peer out at me over her gigantic sunglasses.

“This music business. You’re serious about it.” It’s a statement. I think. But it’s in need of confirmation, so I nod.

“More serious than you could possibly imagine.”

She pushes her glasses back up the bridge of her nose with her index finger and nods once. “Alright.”

I frown automatically. This is Ava we’re talking about. Nothing is ever that simple. “Alright?”

“Yeah. Alright. If you want to pursue music, like professionally, I’ll help you. Show you things. Like, how to get into clubs the VIP way to check out new talent, for example.”

Blaise, who was slowly meandering toward the cars, stops mid step. “What exactly do you know about getting into clubs to check out new talent?”

“A whole fucking lot, actually. In case you don’t remember, once upon a time people were coming into dive bars to check
you
out and I made it my business to talk to each and every one of them.” I swear, as badass as Blaise thinks he is, he’s got nothing on Ava.

“Oh. Good.” Then he turns toward me. “So, you want to produce music or manage a band like your sister?”

I actually laugh out loud at that one. “Are you kidding me? Do I want to manage a band? No fucking thank you. Like I want any part of trying to wrangle a bunch of drama queens pumped up on testosterone and inflated egos.”

Even my sister is grinning. Because she knows it’s true.

So does Blaise apparently, since his mouth only opens briefly to allow for an awkward silence before he shuts it again and does a little sideways nod admitting his defeat. I swear he looks like he’s in actual, physical pain from the insult.

“Well, now that I’m sorry I asked, can we get in the damn car? I’d actually like to get to the studio sometime today.”

“Lead the way, your highness,” Ava says, clearly holding in a laugh.

I don’t bother making any such attempts and snicker my way down the driveway to the Range Rover we seem to be traveling in today.

“You’re awfully brave for someone who could be homeless at any given moment,” Blaise grumbles as we all climb into our seats.

“Damn, B. Way to kill the mood.” Laughing was such a pleasant alternative to the panic attack I’m trying to keep at bay the closer we get to actually making it to the studio. It’s all fine and good to tell myself repeatedly to have confidence in my skills, but it’s so much harder to really do so when I’m the only one who’s ever heard me play. For all I know, I have no skills. I could be completely talentless and about to make a total ass of myself. There’s no way to know but to just go for it and let the chips fall where they may.

There’s also the issue of seeing Angel again after actively avoiding him since our little collision in his bed, but today, I’m not going anywhere near that one. Ain’t nobody got time for that kind of anxiety.

As Blaise pulls the Rover out into traffic, he and Ava fall into their regular rhythm of mixing shoptalk with uber-disgusting sweetsieness which makes me want to barf up my coffee. So, I do the only thing I can do and remain completely silent while I mentally contemplate my life and the results of the decisions I’ve made thus far, not counting the Angel thing. They haven’t been stellar by any stretch of the imagination, but if they led me here to this moment where I’m about to begin the career of my dreams, I suppose they haven’t been all bad.

I still have mixed emotions about everything when we pull up in front of the studio and the Rover comes to a halt.

“Ready?” Ava’s smiling back at me over her shoulder. She knows I’m a nervous wreck. I’m not hiding squat from her even if she doesn’t know the whole reason. Maybe I am hiding a little something.

“Yep.” Saying anything else would only lead to spilling my guts right here and now and there really is no logical reason to go there. Not while Blaise is sitting right here and the threat of evicting me is still in the air.

Inside, Derek and Angel are already getting friendly with their instruments. It’s weird. But they really do treat them like they’re living beings, not objects made of wood, metal and strings. Meanwhile, Brett is standing over along the wall, playing with the string of his tea bag while he lets it steep.

“Good morning, boy and girls. It’s been a while.” Completely mellow and chill, Brett’s no different today than he was at Royce’s wedding. The one and only time I’ve met him. Aside from the fact that’s he’s not wearing a suit jacket, he’s even dressed the same. Birkenstocks, washed out jeans and a white T-shirt. Add to that his tats, beard and man-bun, and he’s about the sexiest damn hippie I’ve ever met.

“’S’up, man.” Blaise leans in for one of those half hug, half handshake things dudes do before Ava wriggles her way into the mix and embraces the man full on. Sometimes it’s weird watching her interact with other people. Our family isn’t affectionate. Ever. Only, apparently that’s just with one another.

“Brett, you remember my sister, Addison?” She’s holding her arm out in my direction and I take my cue to take a step closer to shake his hand.

“Thanks so much for giving me this opportunity.” I’m smiling so hard it’s probably more creepy than pleasant.

“Absolutely. Ava’s word is golden around here. She’s says you’re the woman for the job, I believe her.” Of course, his little grin is kind and heartwarming. Combine that with his encouraging words and I’m ready to run from the building. What was I thinking? I’m putting not just my own reputation on the line here, but Ava’s as well. Then again, that’s about as solid as a reason I need not to bolt but to stay and see this through. More than I want this for myself, I don’t want to disappoint my sister.

Right around now, I’m thinking I might have to say something again to move the conversation along to a less ‘me’ oriented place, but then, just as I open my mouth, his tea is ready and he gets distracted tossing out the bag and stirring in a hefty dose of honey and cinnamon. My eyes are glued to the process, because I know damn well, step one to interning successfully will be perfecting the man’s beverage.

Less than an hour goes by before I see Brett’s hand move out to the side blindly and I quickly fill his empty palm with a fresh tumbler of tea. He turns briefly and smiles an appreciative half-grin in my direction. Day one of my internship and I am killing it. Even with my big sister watching my every move.

Brett leans in over his mic to talk to the boys in the live room. “That was awesome guys. Let’s take five. I wanna throw around some ideas on the chorus.”

They all nod and grunt a variety of things, all of which come out to meaning they agree. Next thing I know, they’re all spilling into the small room. Blaise, Derek, Royce and Angel.

Watching them wander in, I have this weird surreal experience, like Finding Nolan – the band I just watched play for the last hour, and Finding Nolan – the annoying teenage boys who used to crash our garage and raid our fridge every day of the week, sort of collide into one. It’s crazy. I’ve seen them in concert. And I’ve seen them standing in my mother’s kitchen. The two just haven’t ever overlapped before.

According to everyone in the old neighborhood, they’re all kind of like my adopted big brothers. Well, everyone except for stupid Stacey Maccabee, who always took the other angle and considered me Finding Nolan’s very first groupie because jealousy was eating her alive. If only it had taken a chunk out of her big ass.

Personally, I prefer neither. I already have three brothers to start with. Then there’s Blaise who will likely be my brother in law at some point. Royce is my sister’s BFF which makes him like an extension of her. Derek, I don’t know, he feels more cousin than anything else. And Angel...well, clearly my feelings for him have never been anywhere near the realm of sisterly.

“What’s up, Bam Bam?”

Angel makes me blush just by looking in my direction. And then I’m instantly annoyed by the way he seems completely unbothered by my presence. As if this isn’t the least bit awkward for him. I guess that’s where whoring it up comes in handy. You get used to run-ins with people you’ve randomly slept with.