The Revolution (4 page)

“You did when I brought the samples. You said you didn’t want a ‘beach-themed’ house. You wanted expensive and over the top. That’s what the whole design was based on.”

She walks past me into the kitchen where a uniformed maid hands her an espresso. “Latte?” she asks me, holding her cup to her lips.

“That’s an espresso, and no, I’m good. Thanks.”

“I thought the tiny cups of coffee were lattes?”

“Lattes have milk—” I stop myself from continuing on this ridiculous path. “The marble is stunning and it’s custom. It was imported from Europe. If you want to dampen the sound, we have rugs on order that will do that. Don’t stress. Let’s stick with our original plan and then decide once everything is in place.”

She comes closer and hugs me unexpectedly. “Fine. You’re right. You’re always right, Lara. What would I do without you?”

I’m starting to question her sanity, but in this city, I’m considered the odd one out. I return her hug, thinking she just might need one. She leans back and looks me in the eyes with a small smile on her face. “You know, because you’re my friend, I’ll totally get you an appointment with Stanz, my fab hairdresser. He could knock the dull right out of your brown hair. It does wonders for the self-esteem and all the guys in LA would be after you. Well, all the guys who aren’t coming after me that is.”

My grin is tight, but my annoyance is kept buried. “Thanks, but I’m swearing off men for a while.”

“What about your soccer player?”

I don’t bother correcting her. “I’d rather not talk about him right now.”

“Soccer just isn’t that popular though. You could really land someone bigger. You have such a pretty face.” In other words, my ass is big, but thank goodness my face is pretty.
Ugh.

I can’t deal with her today. Taking a step back from her, I grab my purse, and say, “He’s a
major
league baseball player, and I’m all set on the hair, but thanks anyway.” Totally irritated, I head for the door. “The rugs should be in next week. I’ll see you then.”

“Tootles.”

Clueless.

I cringe when I see the time.
Damn it.
I’ll be sitting in rush-hour traffic for the next two hours. I settle into my Range Rover and turn on Vivaldi to keep me company on the trek back to Hollywood Hills. I’ve moved so much of my stuff into Mark’s that I forgot the small detail of removing things before I broke it off with him. Now I’m stuck with my clothes in his closet. My saving grace is that I know he’s at practice so I’ll be able to slip in and out with a few armloads of clothes before he returns later tonight.

Like an LA miracle, I get to his house sooner than expected. I walk in and dump the keys and my bag on the table in the dining room before being startled by Mark in the living room. “Hey,” I say, grabbing my chest. “I didn’t think I’d see you.”

“But we had plans,” he says. His fingers are steepled and he’s glaring at me. His look is intense, his tone tight. The rigidness of his body makes me nervous.

His brusque behavior gives me pause, and I worry if honesty is not the best policy for my safety. I venture there first though, testing the waters. Keeping my voice calm, I ask, “I have the concert tonight. Remember?”

“Oh right,” he says, playing it off as he sits back and lowers his hands to his thighs. “But you can skip it. Some of the team are getting together with their girlfriends down at O’Malley’s to watch the Red Sox preseason opener.”

His ease causes irritation as he discounts not only my plans, but dismisses what I told him this morning. “What are their wives doing?”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Lara.” Mark’s not amused by the snarky joke. He can’t argue it, though, since a few of his teammates actually do have girlfriends on the side, if not most. I used to wonder if he did too. Now I just want to move on from him. “Get dressed.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. We are no longer a couple. I’ll collect a few things tonight and be out of your way shortly.” He’s on his feet before I have a chance to turn away. My wrist is grabbed, the tips of his fingers like spears to my skin as he digs in. “Mark!”

Pulling me close, he holds me tight against his side. “I will not be embarrassed. You will come with me tonight.” With one strong shove, my knees hit the hard floor and the palms of my hands slap down roughly. The smart is instant as pain shoots through me, breaking through the shock of what just happened. My eyes well, but my anger rules. I swing my head around and my hair flies to the side when he reaches for me. “Get away from me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, but there’s no feeling behind the words. His tone is the same as before he pushed me. He stands and says, “We’re not broken up. No one breaks up with me.”

Despite the pain, I get to my feet, stand tall, and face him. “I just did.” Pushing past him, I head for the door. Forget the clothes and everything else. I need to get out of here before something worse happens.

He steps back and to the side to block my way. I look up, straight into his eyes. “Move out of my way, Mark.”

A cocky smile that had come easily to him is replaced with a scowl. “Look, I’m sorry if I hurt you.” He comes closer. “I care about you. I don’t want us to be over.”

“Too late,” I say, keeping my expression straight and my tone firm. “This isn’t working out. You can go out with your friends and meet all the women you want. They’ll be thrilled to hear you’re single.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” I back away from him toward the door. Quickly, I turn and unlock it, holding it wide open, something in my gut telling me to just in case I need to scream.

But whatever made his demeanor confrontational before is gone, the nice guy that wooed me months earlier has returned. “Lara,” he says, his voice soft. “Don’t do this. Give me another chance. I don’t want to lose you. Please. One more chance.”

I gulp, debating if I should make a run for it or stay and try to leave on good terms. “I think it’s best we go our separate ways. I’m never going to be what you need. Trust me, you’ll meet the girl of your dreams, but I’m not her.”

Disappointment settles into his features. “We can work this out. Please be open-minded. We are everything together and nothing apart.”

Starting to feel bad, I acquiesce. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

He stops in front of me and rubs my wrists where he grabbed me earlier. I’m not scared, but I recoil involuntarily. When he sees me flinch, he frowns. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I promise. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

We’re done.
So done. There’s no way I’m changing my mind, but to keep him calm, I nod before walking out.

As soon as I shut the door to my car, I lock it, and breathe for what feels like the first time in minutes. Inhaling slowly, my lungs burn.
No one breaks up with me.
Trying to regulate my pounding heart, I exhale even slower to release the tension in my body.
I will not be embarrassed.
You will come with me tonight.
I start the car with shaking hands.
No, Mark, I won’t.
Even though the signs have been there since before the playoffs, I shouldn’t have ignored them; I’ve never seen him that aggressive. I’m not sure why he’s become more aggressive, but I can’t stick around to find out either. At six five, he’s a big guy. I cover my wrist with my hand and rub. It hurts.
He
hurt me. I need to leave, so I ignore the pain and back down the driveway.

AFTER GETTING PAST
three different bouncers, verifying my name, and flashing my badge, I’m finally backstage. My stomach is still upset from earlier, my head still spinning, but I try to shake it off and enjoy the night.

Lifting up on my toes, I search for Rochelle amongst the chaos. A familiar face pops up in the crowd when she jumps, then waves her arm. Holli comes over and hugs me, the smile on her face welcome. “Good to see you, Lara,” she says warmly. “Glad you could make it.”

Holliday Hughes
—gorgeous, smart, and down to earth. She’s the most put together woman I know. She’s definitely someone to look up to. And as if she didn’t have everything already, she also owns the heart of the one and only Johnny Outlaw—the front man and lead singer of
The Resistance
. I’ve always liked her, but everyone does. She makes it easy and is the kind of person people gravitate toward. “Good to see you,” I reply, embracing her while protecting my wrist. “I’m excited to see the show. I love the new CD.”

“God, so do I. I know I’m partial,” she says, smiling, “but I think it’s their best album yet. Are you looking for Rochelle?”

“Yes, I’m late. Have you seen her?”

“I think she’s with the guys. I’m not sure if we should disturb the preshow routine, but we can get a drink at the bar and wait for her, if you like.”

“Sounds good.”

“How’s business?” she asks, weaving through the crowd.

“Busy. I’ve been working on a job in Malibu that has me pulling my hair out some days, but it’s finally coming together beautifully. How about you?”

We reach the table set up outside their dressing room. It has bottles of liquor and mixers, cups, and ice. We start making our drinks as we continue to chat. “I flew to New York and Chicago recently. I’m supposed to head to Miami next week.” She stops pouring the vodka and looks up at me, and whispers, “Dalton is not happy about it.”

“Dalton?”

“Johnny. I call him Dalton.” She carries on making her vodka tonic. “My marketing director is pushing another campaign. More photo shoots and models. I’m not sure, but I’m testing the waters by exploring more of the ideas and locations.”

“Sounds exciting.”

She shrugs. “Sometimes. I’m not convinced I need to be in the ads to sell Limelight products.”

“You’re beautiful, so I see why they’d want you.”

I’m sure it’s something she hears often, but she smiles genuinely. “Thanks. Guess we’ll see.” She laughs, looking down, and then sips her drink.

Tommy opens the dressing room door and looks out. When he sees Holli, he nods toward the door. “C’mon in.”

Holli touches my hand, and says, “Let’s go in for a minute. I want to talk to Dalton real quick.”

I follow her inside and watch as she heads straight into his arms. The way he looks at her is the same look I dream about, hoping one day a man looks at me like that. It makes my heart ache with envy.
Did Mark ever look at me like that?
I fell for his attention because he was so different from anyone I had previously dated. What I realize now is he didn’t want
me
, he wanted to own me. I still have no idea why he chose me. I learned a hard lesson though: desire to me was power to him.

Johnny kisses her as she wraps her arms around his neck, then she whispers into his ear. I turn away, feeling like I’m intruding on their intimacy.

I’m grabbed from behind and turned quickly, flinching in the process. Rochelle is all smiles to my startled expression. “You’re here,” she says, fortunately not noticing. “You’re late, but I’m glad you came.”

“Me too. It wasn’t easy, but we can talk about it later. I just want to enjoy the show.”

She nods, understanding my need to keep the heavy at bay. She starts to tug me toward the door, when Dex stands with his sticks in hand, he says, “Good to see you, Lara.”

“You too. I’m excited to see the show.”

“Thanks.” He maneuvers next to Rochelle, and whispers, “Stay close to Lara and Holli.”

“I will,” she says. Warmth softens her expression as she looks into his eyes. “Break a leg.”

Rochelle opens the door and turns back. “Let’s wait for Holli.”

I lean against the wall by the door, taking in my surroundings and this unprecedented opportunity I’ve been given. This band is a legend in their own time. Through hits and tragedy they have fallen and risen to the top again. Biographies have been written about them, and a movie has been made. They are the reigning kings of rock ‘n’ roll and I’m standing in the same room as them as if I belong.

Kaz comes out from a back room. When he sees me, he doesn’t smile but I see something in his expression that draws out mine. “Hey,” he says, adding in a singular tilt of his head.

“Hey,” I reply quietly.