Satellite of Love (19 page)

“Oh, so he’s going to be sulking around again after that. Joy. Between him and my brother, I might have to walk off the end of a pier.” Tessa rolled her eyes.

“I am not as bad as Jason.” Bear scowled.

“When you get a good grouse on you are.”

“Who’s got a good grouse on?” another woman asked. She looked a lot like Tessa.

“Bear, when his woman leaves.”

“Oh, I thought you were talking about Jason,” the other woman said. She held out her hand. “I’m Connie. You must be Bear’s girlfriend. Or did I hear fiancee?”

“Fiancee,” Michael said before Maureen could stop him.

“Wow, so the rumor is true,” Tessa said. “I thought it was just a rumor because Bear hasn’t called me about a pre-nup. You will be having one of those, you know. Might as well get the scary bad conversation out of the way.” She flicked Michael’s ear.

“Ow!” Michael clapped his hand over his ear. “Big points for subtlety. We haven’t talked about it yet.”

Pre-nuptial agreement? A shiver ran down her spine and the yard started to sway as if she were on a ship at sea. That had never entered her mind. Pre-nuptial agreements were for people with a lot of money. Like Michael, who had just handed her a credit card and told her she had ten thousand dollars a month to spend. Hadn’t she just been worried that she hadn’t brought a covered dish? There was a lot more she wasn’t bringing to this relationship. Most of it preceded by dollar signs.

“So what are you going to be doing while you’re in town?” Connie asked.

“I don’t know. Sightseeing probably. I just— Can you tell me where the bathroom is?”

“Go down the hallway beside the stove in the kitchen, first door on the right. Right across the hall from the basement door.” Connie took the plate out of her hand.

Maureen fled into the house. The bathroom was free when she got there. If it hadn’t been, her alternate plan had been to barricade herself in the basement. She locked the door behind her and leaned on it. Nothing illustrated what a strange land she’d walked into better than that one little hyphenated word. All her life, her aim had been to wait until she found someone she really liked. No rush. Better to die alone than live in the hell she grew up in. Once she found Mr. Right, she’d figured there’d be a wedding and then settling in to battle the usual demons of marriage, generally represented by money.

Her parents never fought about money. They had a budget detailing everything they spent in a year and they each contributed half. If there was some extra event or fee she’d needed for school, she’d told them and they made a decision. By high school, she’d been leaving written messages on the desk in the living room for them to get back to her about. Also by then, she had her own money and, as often as not, paid her fees. A mark of her adulthood was that she could manage her money without having to discuss it with anyone. How was she supposed to fight about money with him when he earned a hundred times more than she did? Did he expect her to sit back and take the generous allowance he gave her?

“Hey, Maureen. You okay?” he asked through the door.

“I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” She ventured away from the door to peer at herself in the mirror. No wonder Connie had been so prompt with the directions. She looked like she was facing down an oncoming train. At the sink, she washed her hands and patted water on her face. She would have splashed her face, but she’d worn makeup to this shindig and didn’t want to smear it. Sticking her head under the faucet would have really attracted attention at this very sedate rock and roll party, but would have felt sooo good. She dried her hands and braced herself.

When she opened the door, he leaned on the door across the hall, and as soon as she walked out, straightened. “Hey, Connie said she thought you looked—sick. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He frowned. Obviously the words weren’t matching the picture. He took her hand and led her further down the hall into a room and closed the door. It was a home office with a large framed poster of the band on the wall only it looked quite old. None of them could have been over twenty-five. “Listen, if it’s about the pre-nup, you don’t have to sign one.”

“It’s not— I’m— No.” She pursed her lips to try and organize her thoughts before any more partials escaped. “It’s not having to sign something. It’s that it needs to exist. No, that’s not right. I never imagined I’d be married to someone who needed one.”

“Oh. They thought you didn’t want to sign it.” He laced his fingers through hers, making her want more contact.

“No, of course not. If that’s what needs to be done, then that’s what needs to be done. But I never plan on having to use it.” She needed to be held, secured to him. She liked him and he liked her and that’s what really mattered in the end.

He raised one eyebrow. “Really?”

“You might not have noticed, but I’m a ’til death do us part girl.” She slid her arms around his waist. “I didn’t wait this long for you just to split up in ten years.” Stretching up on her toes, she kissed him.

He parted her lips hungrily, pressing her against the desk. When her feet lost contact with the floor, she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hard member pressed against her, filling her with heat.

She turned her head, trying to get a little breathing room. “Michael, we’re at your manager’s house.”

“It’s okay. He won’t mind.” He slid his hands under her shirt, making stopping a lot less interesting. Having sex in a strange house was more in line with what she’d imagined this lifestyle involved.

But it had nothing to do with her lifestyle. “I do.” She planted her hands on his shoulders and pushed. At first, he resisted, but then gave in.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He smoothed her shirt down. “But I’m taking a rain check for later.”

“At home.”

He grinned. “I love it when you call it that. Like you already live with me.” He leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled back.

“Let’s not get distracted. I’m already fighting one false reputation. I don’t need a real one to go along with it.”

He grumbled, helping her to her feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked before he opened the door.

“I’m fine. I was just panicked for a minute.”

Tessa lingered in the hall with a blond man. “Hi.” Tessa almost succeeded in sounding as if she always hung around in the hall at these parties. Nothing unusual about it. “Maureen, have you met Brian?”

“Hey, good to meet you.” Brian held out his hand.

Brian? She was never going to remember all these names. This one she should know since he was in the band. He played piano? No. Guitar? No.

“Hello.”

“I’m in Bear’s band. I play bass,” Brian said.

Whatever the heck that was. He had a firm grip and warm friendly blue eyes. “Nice to meet you.”

“Connie has your plate. Do you want to sit inside or out?” Tessa started down the hall.

Connie leaned on the kitchen counter with her arms folded guarding Maureen and Michael’s plates. “Feel better?” Her tone was cool.

“Much. You know how it is when something hits you.” Hopefully that didn’t sound like a lie because it did feel like something had hit her in the gut.

Michael picked up her plate and carried it to the table. “What do you want to drink, babe?”

“Water is fine.” She followed him.

“You sure? There’s pop and stuff.” He studied her eyes.

“Just water.” She settled into a chair.

“I’m on it,” Brian announced from the door. “Bear, beer?”

Tessa sat in the chair to her right and Connie at the other end. Michael took the seat next to her, nodded, and Brian dove out the back door.

“That boy flaps around like a torn sail in a hurricane when Jason isn’t here to keep track of.” Connie glared out the door after Brian.

“Maureen, you know the pre-nup isn’t negotiable, right?” Tessa asked. “Nothing against you personally. It’s just a formality. Any time one of the guys marries, I draw up a pretty standard form and both of you sign it.”

“Tessa,” he said, a warning in his tone.

The sliding door opened again and Brian walked back in. He deposited a can of beer in front of Michael and a bottle of water in front of her before leaning on the wall behind Connie.

Tessa ignored Michael. “We’re not accusing you of anything, but there is no way Sandy is going to let anyone in this organization enter into any kind of legal agreement without protection.”

“Tessa,” he said again.

“I know it seems a little clinical and unromantic, but it really is as much for your protection as for his.” Tessa steepled her fingers on the table. “We aren’t betting against you and we hope to never have to use it.”

“Of course.” She peeked under the bun of her hamburger. Naked. She’d probably missed the fixin’s tray when she’d gone rampaging to the bathroom. “I would assume something like that would be required. Not that I ever plan on using it, but do you recommend I have a lawyer check it for me before I sign?”

“What?” Tessa’s steepled fingers sagged.

“Do you recommend I have a lawyer check it?” Maureen asked.

“She’s got no problem signing, Tessa,” Michael said. He reached for Maureen’s plate. “You need stuff on this? Everything but tomato, right?”

“Thank you.”

“You have no problem signing the pre-nuptial agreement?” Tessa and Connie asked at the same time.

“No.” Maureen opened her water and took a drink.

“Jeez, you’re kidding,” Brian said. “Bon cried for a week.”

“Bon was trying to break you so you wouldn’t make her do it,” Tessa told him. “Lucky for you, it was me she needed to break.”

“Then what was that outside?” Connie asked. “Why did you go running for the bathroom when it came up?”

“I never dated anyone who needed one before.” Maureen took another drink. “I thought I was dating a mechanic.”

“You really thought he was a mechanic.” Connie leaned forward while Tessa leaned back.

“Yes.” Maureen shrugged. “He was wearing the coveralls and he had grease all over his face. He fixed my brakes and tuned up my car. Didn’t you?”

Michael had just pushed through the door with both their plates. “What? Fixed your car? Yeah. You had about three more miles on those brakes before you went through a brick wall.” He set her burger in front of her.

“Best blind date I never went on.” She reached for his hand. He slid his fingers through hers like a puzzle piece finding its place.

“Imagine how thrilled I was when I realized I could have walked out of the repair bay and said, hi I’m Bear D’Amato from Touchstone and she’d have said, that must be nice for you, what can you do about my brakes?”

“I didn’t know. I don’t pay attention to that stuff. If anyone else here is famous, I apologize in advance for not knowing who you are.” She picked up her burger.

“No one.” Tessa gestured toward Brian. “Well, Brian, but they’re in the same band. And Connie works on TV.”

“Really?”

“Costuming for
Tinseltown, Idaho
.” Connie shrugged. “It’s a living. Too bad we’re off this week. I could have taken you in to the set to watch filming.”

“That would have been interesting.”

“You realize this is what pissed Marc off.” Tessa started toying with a paper napkin. “He hates not being recognized.”

“What’s this now?” Sandy came through the sliding door. “Boy! Get your foot off my wall.”

Brian straightened and Maureen felt safe enough to start eating. Tessa explained her theory on Marc’s mood, which Connie agreed with. Michael held the opinion Marc was being a jerk and no one asked Maureen what she thought. That relieved her more than anything else. This was what real acceptance felt like.

Ty wandered into the room and the conversation turned to what Jason’s problem might be. Maureen finished her meal and glanced around for a trashcan. Spotting one in the corner, she grabbed Michael’s empty plate and took it with her. When she came back, Michael grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap. No one commented on that either, though Ty took her chair.

“Maureen, do you have any plans this week?” Connie asked.

“Not yet.”

“We should do a spa day.” Connie grinned at her.