I Saw You (8 page)

“Is this seat taken?”

Ignoring my unwanted guest, I continued to sip my second cup of coffee of the morning while reading that morning’s paper. The entertainment section to be precise. Timid and quiet, she took a seat beside me and pushed an overflowing plate of food my way.

It was her way of trying to make peace.

Without glancing at the plate, I continued to drink and read. No words exchanged. I offered her not one ounce of consolation for her conscience.

Beside me she huffed in annoyance. “Are you going to ignore me, too, Cheetos?”

“I’d be very careful with the attitude this morning, Ashley. You have one foot here and the other on a plane as we speak.” At the harshness in my tone, she jumped. Folding the newspaper in half, I slammed it down on the table, causing the salt and pepper shakers to tip over. “Don’t force my hand.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The petulance—the entitlement she presumed—was never as evident as it was then. Her demeanor wasn’t of a person who saw the error in their behavior and was repentant. To me, she sounded annoyed.

Opening the paper up to the entertainment section, again, I pushed it her way. Ashley didn’t move. Didn’t look down. Instead, she took a bite of her omelet and ignored me.

Fuck that shit.

“Read.” With one finger, I pointed at the newest headline. “Fucking read.” An entire page spread dedicated to our band’s major win last night. To the relationship problems I now faced because of my supposed infidelity.

Lead singer of Deep finds himself in some of Miami’s hottest waters: its irresistible women.

Caught between two very angry beauties at one of the cities hottest clubs, Lujuria, a fight broke out between the two women when his longtime girlfriend caught the rock star flirting.

Looking up, I stared her down while she ignored the newspaper in front of her. “Read, Ashley.” Her eyes, sad and downcast, looked down at the table and moved across the inked lines of the latest celebrity trash article to hit the stands. Like this one, there were thousands. Some weren’t as malicious, while others villainized me and painted the band as nothing but asshole party animals.

We have confirmation that the scuffle between the two—his longtime girlfriend, Ashley Summers, and a beautiful unidentified brunette—all began because of Chester’s constant handsy behavior with the other woman
.

“Seriously?” Ashley pouted while pushing the article away. “Come on, Cheetos. I said I was sorry to everyone last night…how can you still be upset?”

“Keep fucking reading,” I spoke with as much calmness as I could muster. We were in a public setting, and ringing her neck would be frowned upon.

“He ignored her,” one club-goer said about his longtime girlfriend. “I would have been upset too. Heated words were exchanged and everyone within the vicinity was on pins and needles waiting for one of the two to strike…”

“You can’t be mad at me for defending what’s mine,” she hissed out from between clenched teeth. “I did nothing wrong. That woman hit me.”

“Continue.” My hand slammed down on the newspaper lying before her. This was the second time in all our years of friendship that I’d ever lost my cool with her. The color drained from her face as she read; the article began as a recollection of our trajectory in the industry and quickly morphed into my life being in shambles.

As was to be expected, his band mates came to the rescue and immediately calmed the situation. When all was said and done, the women were pulled apart, and Ashley was escorted off the premises by two members of Deep. The disappointment in their faces was clear as day. They were not happy with the company their leader kept.

“I didn’t think…” Her voice wavered and her hands shook. It was finally sinking in.

“No, you didn’t,” I agreed. “But, it doesn’t negate the fact that you not only embarrassed me, but the band as well. Getting into a spitting match with a woman you didn’t know. Had no clue just who she was.” Leaning forward, I stared her down. “What were you thinking?”

“She was all over you!” she seethed, and it was a weak defense if I ever saw one.

“Was she?” I asked snidely. “Or was I all over her?”

“That’s not—”

“Shut it.” At my seething tone she sat back, trying her best to put a bit of distance between us. “Quit playing dumb. I’d told you about her…mentioned the brunette I’d met at the club and how she was the owner. What the fuck possessed you to—”

Ashely’s lips thinned, and her hands were balled into tight fists atop the table. “You mean that whore was the owner?”

The two older ladies to our right gasped, causing a few others around us to look over. Motherfuck. The last thing I needed was another publicized fight about us.

Pulling my chair closer to her, I leaned forward and spoke quietly in her ear. “Watch your mouth. I’m done playing games, Ash. Don’t confuse your role in my life; you aren’t my girl.”

Taking her cue from me, she turned her face, making our posture seem intimate. “So I’m only good enough to be one in front of the cameras? Is that what you are saying?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. What you do is a job. You’re paid to be one.”

“She’s ruining everything,” she whispered. I could hear the tears in her voice.

And I felt bad. Ashley’s been my best friend since we were young, and it’s never been my intention to hurt her. To lead her on.

“Baby girl, look at me.” A sniff. She refused my plea. “Please.”

Wringing her hands in her lap, she shook her head. “I’m heading back up to my room.”

“Please.” Lifting her chin, I forced her eyes up. “What did you mean by that?”

A few stray tears fell; she wiped them away quickly before anyone could catch on. “We’re fighting, and it’s her fault.”

“That’s not true,” I argued, using the gentlest tone I could muster at the moment; I was still pissed off at all the crap she pulled. “Who are you really mad at? Arianna hasn’t done a damn thing to you.”

“Are you serious?” I nodded, perplexed by her sudden mood change—from crying to now infuriated. “Look at us.” She waved a finger between us. “In the last two days we’ve bumped heads twice. You’ve yelled at me. Hurt my feelings.”

The anger I felt deflated.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m done.” Had to be said.

“What…” Her bottom lip quivered, and a fresh round of tears filled her eyes.

“Hey,” I spoke low, soft. “Let me finish.”

“Okay.” Timid, scared.

Taking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly while holding her stare. “Ash, I love you, babe, but I don’t think
this
arrangement is going to continue working. I—”

“Why?” With both hands she wiped at the rapid flowing moisture.

“It’s confusing the role you play in my life.” Pulling her in close, I tucked her head under my chin. She shivered in my arms. “I want my best friend back. Scares me that if we keep this charade up any longer, I’ll lose her.”

“Me, or that
Arianna
woman,” Ash bit out.

“That right there is the reason we’re going to separate publicly. I’m not yours. Never will be.”

“Look, Cheetos…” her body stiffened in my arms and her voice was filled with sadness “…I didn’t know it was her. You never pointed her out to me.” Is this what Tex was talking about? That she would feel vindicated when she found out just whom she went after? “Had I known, I wouldn’t have reacted like a jealous girlfriend.” Pushing away from me, she looked back up into my eyes with a bit of ire burning in them. “To the public, I’m your girl. Any woman in my shoes would’ve reacted the same way. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Ash, you were—” I began, but like last night, she wouldn’t let me speak.

“To be honest here, I’m pissed.”
Come again?
“You put me in that position to begin with.”

“Are you shitting me right now,” I growled lowly. If Ashley thought she was turning this around on me, she had another thing coming. Trying to make me out to be the bad guy was not the way to mend our bridge.

That earned me a huff, then an eye roll. “Shit you not, Chester. No girlfriend would’ve just stood back and let herself be humiliated like that. Real or not, our relationship is public and as such, you owe me some respect. You fucked up.”

“No one saw—”

Again, she cut me off by holding a hand up. “Yes, they did. Everyone’s coming down on me, yet you didn’t handle this correctly.”

“Hold up…hold up. This isn’t on me. I’m not your cop-out.”

“No, not a cop-out…it’s the truth.” Sitting back in her seat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Did we or did we not agree to keep up the front of our relationship while you two got to know each other? That
you
would explain
my
role, introduce us, and let us come up with a plan so that no one would be hurt in the transition.”

“You’re right.” And she was.

“In that article you so kindly asked me to read, one things stands out. Not that you caught onto it.”

“Quit with the dramatic pauses and spit it out already.” Waving a hand in the air, I urged her to continue.

She glared, but spoke nonetheless. “It states that our relationship is rocky. That I’m just not good enough to keep you.”

“It’s not like that, and you know it.”

“Really?” She arched a sculpted brow.

“I’d never put you in any kind of position where you could be ridiculed, much less hurt.” Taking her small hand in mine, I gave it a squeeze. “Please tell me you believe that.”

“You already did,” she whispered in a defeated tone.

Fuck. In all my anger, I never took a moment to see things from her perspective.

“You’re right.” Shit, was she ever. Pushing my chair back, I squatted down to her level. Brought her hand up to my lips—showing her with actions that I did care, before placing it back on her lap. “I was too busy seeing what could’ve been that I missed the obvious. What needed to be done in order to ensure you were never caught in the crossfire. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Wrapping her arms around my neck, she pulled me in for a hug. “I’m sorry too, you know. It was never my intention to cause you any problems with her.”

“Yeah, well…let’s not discuss that anymore.” I chuckled; it was the only thing I could do at that point. “There’s quite a bit of groveling to do in my near future, and I’m not looking forward to being denied.”

That earned me a giggle. “No one has ever denied you anything.”

“You want to send her that memo? Because she already has.”

“Her loss,” Ashley mumbled under her breath, but I heard.

“No, more like mine.” Admitting that aloud stung a bit on the ego, but I was man enough to admit it. “Come on.” Extending a hand out, I pulled her up from her seat and out of the restaurant. “Time to pack.”

We had a flight to catch today at two, and I needed to leave Arianna something of mine. A little memento to remember the connection we had, and could continue to, if only she’d hear me out.

One week.

Seven days.

One hundred and sixty-eight hours since I’d flown back home to Santa Barbara. Since then, the hours and days had blurred—morphed into endless moments of nothing.

She’d fucked with my head.

While Ashley had shown me a side of her I still hadn’t fully digested.

Everyone could tell that the trip had left a sour taste in my mouth. That anger was still present, and more so when my best friend was around. Her mere presence pissed me off.

And then, I was angry at myself for letting things with Ashley escalate to this point. It was my fault that we began this lie. She’d been trying to protect her friend, something that shouldn’t have been her responsibility.

Yet, at the other end of the spectrum, my ire transferred to Ash. For being both impulsive and intrusive. For ruining something that could have been great.

Then there’s Slim somewhere between the two of us—in limbo. Even thousands of miles away she was on my mind. With no warning, she came into my life and flipped it on its ass. Not a bad thing, but when the woman you want rejects you…it stings.

Not that she would have a choice soon. There was no way in hell I was letting her go.

Never. Didn’t give a shit if she protested. Ignoring me—us—was not a choice.

“Let’s get out of here, bro,” Tex spoke, bringing me back to the present. We’d been at the studio all morning working on a song I wrote during the plane ride home. With so many emotions and thoughts flowing through me, I needed an outlet.

It wrote itself.             

Less than thirty minutes into the flight and I had the first verse and hook down on paper. Harsh yet sweet; it explained how I felt. Sincere, the words explained what she never gave me a chance to.

Not everything you saw was true. Not all was as it seemed.

“Think they’re still outside?” At my question, he raised a brow and continued to put away our instruments. The other two were busy speaking to our producer. “Dumb question.”

A snort. “You think?”

Since the fight at Lujuria, the paparazzi had been relentless. Ruthless in their search for the truth, or lie, that would give them a hefty payday. They hounded and pushed—fucked mostly with me.

Bloodthirsty, sensing a scandal where there was none.

With a knock on the door, Cris got our attention. “Let’s bounce. Our ride’s outside and security is holding them back.”

“Hopefully they don’t act like animals today.” Wishful thinking on my part. Taunted and sneered insults at, my patience was running thin. Several times, I’d wanted to reach out and bust the face of one of those assholes, but the boys kept me in check.

Lucky for them.

Today that wasn’t the case.

The moment my boot-covered foot stepped outside the studio’s front doors, the frenzy began. Blinded by the sea of flashes, I kept my eyes down and avoided them. Pretended they didn’t exist.

Tried to, anyways.

“Where’s the new whore?” one guy yelled out, and my fist clenched. My body coiled, and I felt like a cornered snake ready to attack the first idiot that came close.

This was their M.O. and I needed to remember that. Push. Insult. Get in your face and make you react to their advantage. The bigger the reaction, the more money they made.

Beside me, Rick stiffened, his own fists clenching tight. “We’re almost at the car.”

“Is the bitch a regular visit when down south? Does Ash—”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snarled. Arianna was off fucking limits to these leeches, and I reacted. Before anyone could stop me, I had the idiot slammed against the van in front of me. The wind was knocked out of him; stunned and struggling to breathe, he tried to pry my hands off.

He’d be lucky to escape my grasp with just a fucked-up face.

“Let go,” he pled, but the words were ignored. Insults weren’t new to me. They were thrown at celebrities every day in hope of catching their angry reactions on camera.

However, to have them speak of Arianna that way…it was too much.

Slim was different. She wasn’t up my ass or asking me to spend money on her. The opposite, really. For the first time in my life, I was the one chasing. Wanting. Hunting.

When she looked at me, I wasn’t just a dollar sign and I liked that.

We were quick. Instant. Consuming.

“Fuck, Chester, let him go,” Ashley yelled, suddenly beside me. Hands pulling on my shirt, she begged me to not do this. “Are you insane? Please.”

Maybe I was. I’d never been someone who gave a shit what others thought.

“Motherfucker,” I heard Rick hiss out. “Let him go, Chester.” He pulled on my arms, tried to pry my fingers from around his neck. Didn’t budge; I had the idiot pinned down against the harsh metal surface while I threatened his very existence.

“Don’t you ever talk of her again,” I spat at him through clenched teeth. “She’s off motherfucking limits to you and everyone else. Do you understand? Nod if you do.”

Doing as asked, he nodded. The fear and disbelief of what’d just happened made him shake in my tightening hold.

“Enough, Chester. Fuck them.” Mike wrapped an arm around my neck and pulled hard. It took all three of my boys and him to remove me off the trembling idiot. “Don’t give them what they want.”

“Expect a call from my lawyer,
Mr. Greene,
” the man cried out, his voice hoarse. Strained and irritated. “You just fucked up.” The sound, his tone, it made the blood rush through my ears and my vision blur. Yet he continued, not in the least aware of the cage he continued to rattle. “These pictures will circulate, and the sale of my horrendous encounter with the lead singer of
Deep
will leave me with a nice bump in my bank account.” Bending down, he picked up his mangled camera and righted his clothes. “Thank you for making my year.”

“Be my guest, bitch.” Mike and Rick held me back, but just barely. “Do I look like I give two shits about the chump change you’ll get? Wouldn’t even make a dent in my wallet.”

He gulped, eye widening as I took another step forward, dragging the boys with me. “You will, when the judge grants—”

A loud and menacing laugh bubbled out of me. “It will be worth every last cent, asshole.”

“Get him in the van, now,” Tex yelled, and Mike pushed on my shoulder. “Stop, Chester. They’re not worth it.”

“Let’s go, babe.” Ashley came forward then and in front of the hounds, grabbed my hand. Every camera began to flash, and the questions resumed. 

“What happened in Miami, Miss Summers?”

“Did you forgive his cheating?”

“Is this the first time, or do you forgive him blindly? The money and lifestyle are hard to walk away from.

Ash never said a word, and I followed her example while she pulled me into the vehicle. Once she put her hands in mine, I calmed down enough to stop resisting. Mike stayed in place, made sure the paparazzi kept back. Even pissed, I’d known better than to throw a punch with her in the middle.

Everyone was angry as we piled in.

It was a simultaneous decision to leave them with a parting gift as we pulled off the curb. The windows facing the angry photographers were opened and every single one of them raised their cameras. Flashes lit up the evening and we flipped them off.

Sticking his head out one of the windows, Tex laughed in their faces. “Sell that, you piece of shit.”

We couldn’t help it; everyone, including the uptight Ash, laughed.

Just another day in this crazy world we call “Hollywood.”

I Saw You...

Restless.

Annoying.

Pissed.

All those word could be used to describe me, and the days continued to pass. Another week where I’d buried myself within work; countless hours logged in at the studio and not a goddamned thing other than one song to show. Nothing flowed. Nothing but her song.

How could one woman cause so much inner turmoil? I knew next to nothing about her, other than her dislike of me and what I stood for. Fame and money meant shit to her. The woman had her own, was independent. Something I found sexy, yet threw me for a loop.

I’ve never found myself in a position like that before. Where I had to work for it. Where pussy didn’t flock to me like bees on honey.

Singlehandedly she’d destroyed—flipped—my monotone world.

The studio was my home. Yet over the last few days coming in had become a chore, not the one place that gave me solace. Nothing calmed me down. My mind continued to analyze every aspect of our meeting. Her beauty. The mouth on her.  How she put me in my place inside that crowded club.

W
hat the fuck is wrong with me?

“For fuck’s sake, Cheetos.” Cris threw his drumsticks across the room and walked over to the mini fridge we kept for water. “Just go see her already.”

To say they were annoyed with me was an understatement. Fuck, I was annoyed with myself.

Following his lead, Rick placed the guitar in his hands down and turned to face me. “Yeah, man. Go. Kiss ass and get laid…fucking tired of watching your grumpy ass mope.” He’d been in a funky mood as of late—short with everyone since we returned. Especially me.

“I’m sorry, okay?” I groaned while rubbing a hand down my face. “This shit annoys me.” Stepping away from the mic, I signaled that we were taking five. Our producer nodded and walked out of the room. Sitting down beside Tex, I accepted the bottle he held out for me. “Why the fuck can’t I get her out of my mind? All we did was fight…insult each other.”

“You connected.” My head snapped toward Cris, and I raised a brow. “Don’t give me that look, ass.” He shrugged before holding up a one-finger salute. “And before you give me shit, no I have not been watching
that
show again. This is purely my genius showing.” Opening his second bottle, he took three long pulls and emptied it. “You three are so clueless when it comes to the fairer sex.”

“Sounding like a pussy again, dude.” Tex snorted, which earned a chuckle from me.

“Look who’s talking?” he retorted, then burped. “You like her. It’s simple, really. Think about it for a second and then answer me. What makes her stand out from the rest? From Ash?”

What is it about you, Arianna?

“You’ve never been one to obsess over a woman.” Rick stood before me, his stance serious and determined. “Over the years you’ve left a trail of faceless women who knew to expect nothing more than a single fuck at best. Why her?” Rick asked.

“Because she sees me,” I confessed in a low tone.

“Louder, fucker,” Rick snapped. “We need to get your head out of your ass and on your way.”

“You really want to know?” I yelled out, already on my feet. It took three strides to reach the nearest wall and one to punch a hole through it. It was either that or his smug face.

“Rick, back off. Not like this,” I heard Tex say, but it was too late. The answer couldn’t be clearer.

“He needs to realize before—”

An angry laugh bubbled from within, and I leaned my head against the damaged wall. “I’m not a dollar amount or her way to the top. Just a man. My status means shit to her.” Not a sound. They were all stunned by my confession. Fuck, I myself was scared by the words that left my lips. “God,” I groaned, my dick twitching in my pants as the night we met played behind closed lids. “The way she laid into me when I accused her of being a groupie. I saw the intent in her eyes…she wanted to deck me, and I found it so sexy. Am I a masochist for that?”

Ignoring my last question, Tex came to stand beside me on the wall. “So, she isn’t afraid of who you are…what else?” he pushed. What happened to “not like this?”

“Then she sent me,
me
, the asshole celebrity, flowers with a cheesy good luck note before the awards. Who does that shit?”

“Someone who’s kind.” Cris smiled, and I rolled my eyes. Pussy motherfucker.

“As I was saying.” His smile fell, and he flipped me off at the brush-off. “Who does that for a stranger? It was corny, and fuck me for saying this, but
sweet
.”

“We all agree that the situation calls for what is considered to be ‘pussy’ words.” Tex waved a hand in a circular motion. “Carry on, fucker.”

My mature reply? I punched him dead in his stomach, causing him to choke. “Don’t be a dick, Tex.” Still bent at the waist, he swung his arm out and caught my thigh. Didn’t hurt much. “As I was saying, again…” he looked up and glared while I rolled my eyes “…the feel of her against me at the club was my undoing. How her much smaller frame molded against my own felt like motherfucking heaven.”

“So let me get this straight.” Holding a hand up, Rick began to count off all the positives. “Doesn’t want your money, is hot as all fuck, and can stand her ground with you. She isn’t afraid to put you in your place.”

“Cliff Notes version, then yeah, but it’s more,” I answered honestly.

“More?” Cris asked, the amusement clear on his face.

If I ever grew a vagina, it would be due to this conversation.