Still Life with Strings (32 page)

My back stings with my
new tattoo, but it’s a good kind of stinging. The meaning behind the piece
makes me feel complete, like I’m no longer alone in this life.

And no, I didn’t get a
tramp stamp, thank you very much.

I walk home, trying to
avoid crushing the precious stones beneath my plimsoll-clad feet. Right now the
world is a diamond-encrusted tiara, shimmering and bright.

At my house I gather my
things for work, and by the time I’m leaving again the snow has stopped. Some
thief stole all the diamonds, because all that’s left on the ground is cold,
wet sludge.

When I get to the
concert hall, I’m greeted by Lara in the staff room. She’s in top form, telling
me about how delighted Mia was when she took her for a walk in the snow. I
think of how much more delighted little Mia would have been if she’d seen all
those diamonds.

For tonight’s show Lara
and I are both working side by side in the box office at the front of the
house. We have a giggle as we watch people enter the foyer, making up stories
for them as they pass us by. I love these blah blah blah chats we have. It’s
like yoga for the brain — gives it a nice good stretch but never overtaxes it.

A group of young people
in their late teens enter, and we talk about how when we were their age we
wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this. They’re all dressed in formal
wear and probably attend some fancy college where going to see the symphony is
what constitutes a night out on the tiles.

Lara mentions how they
all look like little right-wing conservatives in the making, and I quote
Winston Churchill, saying, “
If you’re not a liberal at twenty you have no
heart; if you’re not a conservative at forty, you have no brain.
”

“So all those kiddos
out there have no hearts?” Lara asks.

I shrug. “At least they
have brains.”

“Damn,” she chuckles,
“that means I’ve only got a couple more years before I have to throw away my
liberalism. I’d better start attending some wild left-wing protests before I
run out of time.”

“Yeah, get burning
those bras,” I quip as a couple approaches my window, having heard what I just
said. I cough to clear my throat as I sell them two tickets. The very second
they walk away Lara bursts out laughing, and I give her a half-hearted scowl
before succumbing to her laughter.

A minute later I have
more customers and my laugh dies on my lips, leaving nothing but a straight
sober line in its wake. In front of me are two people I recognise well, but
they don’t know me at all. There’s an air of tension to Mona and Justin as they
request two tickets, in the stalls preferably. I note how Justin’s voice is all
mannerly and urbane.

For a second I don’t
know what to do, and I certainly don’t know how to interpret the flirty wink
Justin gives me when Mona isn’t looking. I have a crazy thought of asking them
what the hell they think they’re doing here, because Shane clearly wouldn’t be
pleased about it. But I don’t. Instead, I silently sell them their tickets.

As I’m punching the
command in on my screen, Justin leans closer. Mona has taken her phone out and
steps back to scroll through her messages.

“I don’t remember there
being such hot employees the last time I was here,” he says to me in a low
voice, and I have a momentary daydream of punching him in the face, my fist
miraculously breaking right through the pane of glass in front of me, shards
flying into the air in slow motion.

I slide his tickets
through the slot and shoot back, “Yeah, well, I don’t remember the last time I
had such a sleazy customer, so that makes us even.”

Justin’s eyes narrow as
he swipes up the tickets, gives me a look that’s half-annoyed, half-disgusted,
and then leads Mona away. As soon as they’re gone, I fumble for my phone in my
pocket and rapidly type out a text to Shane.

Jade: Don’t freak but Mona
and Justin are here.

Lara watches me,
clearly having heard what I said to Justin, so I quickly explain to her who he
was. She remembers Shane’s story from that night at my house, so she
understands why I was so rude. Then I get a text back from Shane.

Shane: I know. Mum came to
the radio station today and told me she’s been in contact with Mona. She wants
to mend her bridges since we have to play this concert next week. Apparently,
that’s why she’d been calling. Not gonna happen.

Jade: You okay?

Shane: I’ll survive. Come to
me when your shift is done?

Jade: I will. x.

When the show starts
I’m tempted to go inside the hall and make sure Shane’s all right. For some
reason I have this vision of him seeing Mona and Justin in the audience and
having a breakdown. I know he’s stronger than that, though.

When my shift ends, I
go to the staff changing rooms and put on the cream blouse and navy jeans I
brought, since I didn’t want to wear my work uniform when I go to see Shane. I
let my hair down out of its bun and run my fingers through the waves. Applying
some reddish lip gloss, I study myself in the mirror and decide I’ll do,
slipping on my ankle boots to complete the outfit.

I’m on my way to the
dressing room, walking down a corridor close to the stage entrance, when I stop
in my tracks. Shane is standing there, talking to both Mona and Justin. He
looks fine on the surface, but just beneath it he doesn’t look fine at all.

For a second I
hesitate, not knowing if I should approach or wait until Mona and Justin leave.
It’s a terrible thought, but I wonder if Shane would be ashamed of being
associated with someone like me. After all, Justin will surely recognise me
from the box office earlier.

Deciding not to let my
insecurities get to me, I keep walking. Mona frowns when I step up beside Shane
and slip my hand in his, squeezing it ever so slightly.

Mustering my most
sultry voice, I say, “Hey, baby, who are your friends?”

I press my lips to his
mouth for a moment, meaning for it to be a quick greeting, but Shane sinks into
the kiss, deepening it as though it’s giving him strength. Tingles scurry all
down my spine. Then he pulls away. “Hey, you look great,” he breathes,
squeezing my hand and turning back to Justin and Mona.

Justin’s got a cynical
look on his face, and Mona is still frowning.

“This is Jade,” says
Shane. “My girlfriend.”

A quick swoosh of
excitement goes through me at his words, and I have no intention of correcting
him. Am I his girlfriend? I’m definitely more than just a friend with a
particular benefit now. At least, that’s the way it feels.

Mona purses her lips,
and she smiles smugly. Clearly, she just remembered where she saw me before. “I
know you. Weren’t you working out the front earlier?”

“That’s right,” I
reply, nodding. I’m not going to bother to shake her hand.

“Ah, so how long have
you two been together?” she asks.

“A while,” I answer
before Shane has the chance. She isn’t getting any details because I know
that’s what she’s after.

Justin is giving me
this knowing look, like when he flirted with me earlier I was actually
receptive to it, instead of cutting him down like I did. I raise an eyebrow at
him, and his face immediately sobers. I should tell Mona what he said to me. I
bet he’s been cheating on her all over the place in the exact same way she
cheated on Shane. I also bet she doesn’t like the taste of her own medicine one
tiny bit.

“It’s a pleasure to
meet you, Jade,” says Justin, stepping closer and taking my hand in his to kiss
it. Shane immediately bristles, and I quickly pull my hand away like there
might be venom in his saliva. “Hey, why don’t we all go out for a few drinks?
Catch up on old times?” he continues.

“I’m sorry, but no,”
says Shane sharply. “We have plans.”

“And I don’t drink,” I
add for good measure.

“Okay, no problem.
Perhaps another time.”

Shane gives him a look
like he’s got his shit in bucketfuls, and Justin’s face loses some of its cocky
confidence. “I don’t think so,” Shane tells him, voice low and defensive.

“We’re trying to be
civil,” Mona cuts in. “Why throw away years of friendship over something so
stupid? Justin has missed you, Shane. All of the guys have. Even Dad says he
wishes you’d come back and play with the quartet again.”

Shane’s body goes
ramrod straight with tension. “‘Something so stupid’?” He spits her own words
back at her. “Are you for real? You’re fucking delusional if you think I’d ever
want any of you in my life after how you lied to me. And I know the only reason
you’re bending over backward to gain my friendship is because ticket sales for
the group’s concerts have fallen dramatically since I left. This all boils down
to money.”

Justin’s expression
grows angry. “Our sales are doing just fine. We’re here because we want to make
up for what we did to you. It was awful, I know. I hate to think I’ve lost you
as a friend.”

“Fucking hell, those
lies drip so easily off your tongue, don’t they? I’ll never be your friend
again, Justin, because you were never a friend to me.”

Shane tugs on my hand
and leads me away from them, down the hall toward the dressing rooms. When he
get around the corner, he stops and leans back against the wall, closing his
eyes firmly and taking deep breaths as though trying to keep from going back
there and punching Justin in the face. Yeah, it seems I’m not the only one
who’s had that fantasy tonight.

I bring my arms up
around his neck and pull him close, resting my face in my favourite spot just
below his jaw. I rub soothing circles into his nape with my thumb, and some of
the tension falls away from him.

“I’m so glad you got
there when you did,” he murmurs, his lips grazing my cheek. “I was on the verge
of breaking his hand so he’d never be able to play again.”

“You wouldn’t do that,”
I whisper, because I know it’s true. Shane doesn’t have a malicious bone in his
body. A minute or so passes in silence.

“I just can’t believe
they both had the gall to come here. When Mum came to see me today, she let it
slip that she’d been in contact with Mona’s dad, my old manager. Apparently
he’s eager to meet up with me and discuss some things. The quartet hasn’t been
doing as well as it used to because a lot of my fans have heard rumours about
Mona and Justin, and aren’t going to the shows anymore. I imagine he wants me
to re-join so they can win those fans back.”

I pull away and look at
him. “You’d never go back,” I say. It isn’t a question. I can see it in his
eyes that re-joining the group is never going to happen, no matter how much
they might plead.

“No,” says Shane. “I
wouldn’t. Mona’s father has clearly given her and Justin the push to come see
me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was behind this whole deal with us playing a
duet together. He probably thinks I’ll fall for her charms and do anything she
asks of me. It’s kind of insulting.”

The idea of Shane
falling for Mona again makes my lungs hurt. Is that a possibility? Some
insecure corner of my heart wonders.

“You want to get out of
here now?” I ask, kissing his jaw and allowing my hand to wander suggestively
down his chest and over his abs.

He swallows visibly,
and a small smile shapes his lips. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

I bring my mouth to his
ear and whisper, “Your place. Your bed.”

I don’t think I’ve ever
seen him move faster as he goes to collect his things and then leads me out to
his car. On the drive I text Alec to make sure he’s home tonight. When we get
to Shane’s house, he pulls two boxes of pre-made meals from the fridge and sets
them on the counter where I’m perched on a stool.

“Are these courtesy of
your gourmet delivery service?” I ask teasingly as I open the box and fork up
some of the chicken salad.

Shane gives me a
sheepish grin. “You know I never get the chance to cook.”

By the time we’ve
finished eating and have eye-fucked each other half to death, Shane prowls
around the counter to me and positions himself between my legs. I gasp as his
rock-hard erection hits me right at my core. He grinds it against me, and I wrap
my legs around his waist. Then his mouth is on mine, kissing me hot and deep. I
have a small notion in my head that I’m going to need to keep my new tattoo
hidden from him. Not the sparrow, the other one. I’m definitely not ready to
show it to him yet, and I kind of want to wait until it’s healed.

I put some antiseptic
cream on both of them before I left for work today, but I can feel the skin
tightening now, getting ready to form a scab. Yeah, tattoos aren’t all smooth
and sexy right away. It takes weeks for them to heal, and while they do they
itch like a bastard.

“Not here,” I murmur
against Shane’s mouth. “Upstairs.”

He follows my lead as I
pull him to his room, his mouth nibbling at my neck, his hand pulling my blouse
over to expose my collarbone. Hmm, it’s actually going to be difficult to keep
those wandering hands of his away from my back.

“I want you on top,” I
tell him, my head foggy with desire as his deft fingers undo the fly of my
jeans and pull them down my thighs.