Love of a Rockstar (13 page)

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Authors: Nicole Simone

BOOK: Love of a Rockstar
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“Hey, you look nice.” I stepped aside to let her in. “Job interview?”

Camille draped her coat over the back of the couch. “Thanks and no. I just felt like dressing up.”

In our seventeen years of being best friends, there was only one reason she took an extra twenty minutes in the morning. A guy. Or in this case, barista boy.

“Is that so?” I questioned.

“Yes, geez.” She laughed nervously and touched her collarbone, the telltale sign of hiding something, “Can’t I put a little makeup on without you acting as if I robbed a liquor store?”

If she didn’t want to talk about it, that was fine. I just wish she would admit her feelings about him. Barista boy might be exactly that—a barista—but it wasn’t fair for her to write him off because of his job. I could tell she really liked him.

“OK.” I held my hands up. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Do you want something to drink?”

“No. I’m fine. I had some coffee before I got here.”

Of course she did, but the glow she was sporting wasn’t from the caffeine. Taking a seat in the armchair, I drummed my fingers against the armrest.

“So I have something I need to discuss with you,” I said.

Camille’s eyes darkened with worry. “What’s wrong?” She leaned forward and put her hands in a praying position between her knees. “Are you sick? Do you need me to take care of Nil for a couple of days?”

My hair lacked luster, and the bags underneath my eyes hadn’t faded since Nil was born, but I wasn’t dying. I flashed her a reassuring smile. “My health is fine.”

“Thank god, I was worried there for a second.” She collapsed back into the sofa. “So what’s the problem? Are you stuck in a pair of jeans again?”

Last week, I’d had the brilliant idea of trying on my favorite pair of jeans from high school. Ten minutes later, they were glued to my thighs and impossible to get out of. I had to call in Camille to help get them off. It was like an episode of
I Love Lucy
.

“No I learned my lesson. From now on, stretchy pants all the way,” I said.

“Smart girl. So no health emergencies, no fashion emergencies. What could possibly be the problem that you had me rush over here for?”

“Finn asked me a huge life altering question.”

Camille raised her eyebrows. “He asked you to marry him?” Her brows knitted in confusion. “I don’t see a ring.”

Alarm shot my pulse skyward. “Hell no, he did not ask me to marry him. He asked Nil and me to move with him to Paris.”

“Oh.”

Her lack of reaction threw me for a loop. I figured when I told her, she would demand I stay because Luke was my one true love.

I gestured to her face. “What’s happening here? You don’t look very stunned.”

“I’m not.”

“Why not? Because I was when Finn asked me.”

Camille set her feet onto the coffee table. “Finn has wanted to get you away from Luke for ages now. This move is his chance to do so.”

“I wasn’t with Luke for the past four years.”

“Maybe not physically but your heart has been.”

Shit, Camille was right. Luke had claimed my soul since the night we met. But would distance be enough to get rid of his hold on me?

“Did you say yes?” Camille asked.

“I did.”

She carefully scrutinized my expression. “And you’re not happy about this?”

I threw a pillow over my face, frustrated. At seventeen years old, you are not supposed to meet the man of your dreams. You are supposed to date around, explore the landscape. I didn’t expect Camille to understand that. She was a romantic.

Camille snatched the pillow away from me. “You can’t hide.”

“I just wish it wasn’t like this.”

“Like what?”

“So hard to leave Luke when it was so easy for him to leave me.” I took the pillow back and hugged it against my chest.

“Did he tell you what drove him to walk out?”

Luke’s and my conversation had shed light on a few of my unanswered questions. Most importantly it had lifted the blame I’d put on myself for all those years.

“He said it was because it felt as though he didn’t deserve happiness,” I answered.

“A lot kids from broken families feel that way and it takes years of therapy to reverse that thinking.”

“Luke didn’t go to therapy.”

I told her about the teenage runaway Luke had taken under his wing. When I was done, Camille shook her head.

“Hilary’s death could have sent him straight to rock bottom,” she said.

I looked down. “It might have, but in the end, he realized he needed to clean up his act and become the father his dad never was to him.”

“He has overcome a lot of obstacles in his life but look where he is. A rock star with adoring fans and enough money to retire at twenty-six. It’s admirable.”

Camille didn’t have to tell me. I was proud of Luke and everything he had accomplished. I just wished I had been a part of the journey.

“Can you stop telling me how amazing Luke is? My decision to move to Paris is not getting easier,” I said.

She laughed. “I’m sorry, but there isn’t an easy answer or a magic pill to erase your feelings for Luke. You’re just going to have figure it out the old fashioned way.” Getting off the couch, she walked over to her purse and pulled out a packet of condoms. “With sex.”

“Do you tell all your patients that?” I asked.

“Nope, but sometimes you need to see what you’re missing.”

I knew what I was missing when it came to Luke. He was a thoughtful lover who could make you cum five different ways. I eyed the condoms.

“So you’re telling me to cheat on Finn?”

“It sounds horrible, but maybe you need to get Luke out of your system before you take off to Europe.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know Camille. My Jewish guilt would eat me alive.”

“Just think about it. Having one last romp with him might be exactly what you need.”

Camille, my best friend who believed a man like Mr. Darcy existed in real life, was telling me to commit adultery. I never thought I would see the day. The problem was, Luke wasn’t a man you could get out of your system. Once you got a taste, you lusted for more.

 

 

 

 

SHORTLY AFTER CAMILLE told me to sleep with Luke, she ran off to study for a midterm. I was clearing our coffee mugs from the table when I noticed she conveniently left the condoms behind. They were magnum size, perfect for Luke. Just in case I changed my mind about getting naked with him, I slipped them into the desk draw. Sometimes the seemingly worst ideas turned out to be the best ones.

Nil slid into the kitchen on the soles of her socks with a carefree smile on her face. She was gripping a rainbow of crayons in her right hand and a princess coloring book in her left.

“Mommy, Ken is in a timeout because he took one of Barbie’s shoes without asking.”

I always had a hunch Ken liked to wear high heels. Why else were his feet so dainty?

“Good call,” I said. “You have to teach that boy some manners.”

Nil nodded solemnly. “He was a bad boy.” She scrambled into a chair at the dining room table. Fanning out the crayons, she opened her coloring book and set to work. Nil was at an age where she could entertain herself for hours. Although, I loved her independent streak, I felt as if my little girl was slipping away. Pretty soon, a teenager who wore makeup would blossom under the same roof as me. It was a scary thought.

I kissed the top of her head, breathing in the smell of her shampoo. “I love you, Nil.”

“Love you too, mommy.”

Those three simple words caused my heart to swell. Whatever happened, wherever we moved, I would always have my beautiful daughter by my side and that made my decision a little less stressful. My cell phone belted out my mother’s signature ring tone. I smiled as I answered it.

“Hello mom,” I said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she huffed. “I am your mother. I deserve to know these things.”

My mom had a tendency to start a conversation in the middle, and expected you to know exactly what she was jabbering on about. However, ninety-nine percent of people didn’t. My father fell into the one percent.

I wandered out of the kitchen. “Tell you what? I’m not a mind reader.”

“You’re moving to Paris. Really, Marlene?” I winced. “Paris? Really?” she repeated, even more irritated.

“First of all, Paris is a beautiful city. Second, where the hell did you get this information?”

“I ran into Mary Gray, Finn’s mother’s best friend in the supermarket.”

Of course she did. Seattle was a city that had a small town vibe. You couldn’t walk down the block without running into your plumber. On top of that, Mary Gray was a notorious gossip. She was a wealthy housewife who had nothing else to do but keep her ear to the ground. Nosey old bat she was.

“What did she say?” I asked.

“She said she was so happy to hear you and Finn were finally starting a life together. Then her mouth ran off about Paris. I stood there for a full three minutes with no clue what she was talking about.” My mother groaned. “It was awful. Do you know how embarrassing it is when Mary Gray is more informed about your life than I am? Your own mother?”

I rolled my eyes at her dramatics. “I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.”

She took a beat. “There is no decision to be made. You’re not leaving.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it. How old was I? Fifteen? She didn’t have the right to tell me what to do anymore. She lost it when I pushed out a seven-pound newborn and became a mother of my own.

I took a deep breath to calm my rage. “This is an incredible opportunity.”

“To tear her away from her only grandmother is not what I call an incredible opportunity,” she replied hotly.

“Mom, I have always wanted to visit Paris, you know that.”

“Yes visit, not live.”

I sighed. There was no way I would win this argument. In her eyes, I was sweeping away her grandbaby to a foreign city where our ritual Sunday breakfast wouldn’t exist. My father was the pragmatic one, he would understand.

“Is dad there?” I questioned.

“We are not done with this conversation, young lady.”

A second later, my father was on the line. “Hello button, how are you doing?”

My parents had a marriage I was envious of. When they met in college, my mother was dating somebody else. According to my dad though, he knew my mother was his soul mate before ever talking to her. With one glance, he felt as if he saw his future flash before his eyes. Nine months later they eloped.

“I’m good.” I answered. “But I don’t think mom is dealing so well with my news.”

“Don’t worry about your mother. I’ll deal with her.”

“What do you think about me moving to Paris?”

I heard the sound of ice clink in a glass. Every day at two o’clock my father had an iced cold Coca Cola. It was the only junk food allowed in my parents’ house.

“I think it’s a nice city but we sure would miss you guys.”

My parents and I haven’t always been close. We have been through our fair share of rough patches but at the end of the day, I knew they cared deeply for Nil and me.

Tears clogged my throat. “We would miss you too.”

“I like Finn—he’s a good guy—but I think he lost some points with your mother.”

I overheard my mom confirm my dad’s statement, and I smiled. “Yeah, well, he probably has more points than Luke does.”

“We don’t dislike Luke. Don’t put words into our mouths,” my father said.

“Really?”

My dad has never expressed an opinion either way. He was the neutral party between my mother and me. Nonetheless, in a marriage you usually side with your partner. So I figured whatever my mom felt toward Luke so did my dad.

“He gave us Nil, didn’t he?” My dad chuckled. “She sure is a firecracker that one.”

“She is. But dad?” I paused. “Luke has changed. He isn’t the same man he was at twenty-two. I want you to know that.”

For some reason it was important to me that my dad realized Luke wasn’t the same person anymore. I wanted him to see Luke in a new light like I was.

“That’s good to hear but as long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Whatever you decide, your mother and I will support you.

“Thank you.” I whispered, touched.

After we said our goodbyes, I hung up the phone and glanced over at Nil. She held up a picture from her coloring book for me to see.

“It’s a princess mommy.”

“I can see that.” Making my way over to the freezer, I pulled out the cake layers. “Do you want to take Ken out of timeout while I do this for a bit?” I asked. This wedding cake was due tomorrow and I still had hours of work on it.

“No.” She set the book down on the table. “Can we go to the museum?”

A strong urge to bang my head against the table arose. Sometimes I wished I could clone myself so I could be in five different places at once.

“I have to finish this first. Can you play with your Barbies a little bit longer? Then we can go do whatever you want,” I bargained.

She crossed her arms in front of her. “You promised.”

My words from a couple days ago came back to haunt me. Nil wanted to visit the pretend grocery store at the children’s museum, but with a handful of work on my plate, I promised we would visit on Thursday, half hoping she would forget. Somehow, the week slipped past me and Thursday was upon us. Never the one to back out of a promise, I rewrapped the cake layers.

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