The Story of Lansing Lotte (16 page)

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Authors: L.B. Dunbar

Tags: #Legendary Rock Star, #Book 2

BOOK: The Story of Lansing Lotte
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“No, I mean what do you want from me in return?”

“What? I don’t…” I blinked to snap myself out of my naughty thoughts.

“Is that girl your girlfriend? I didn’t think you did girlfriends.”

“Is she…? What girl?”

“The girl that all of New York saw you mash faces with yesterday. It was all over the papers and the Internet last night.”

I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. I knew it would be.

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend.”

“So, what do you want with me?”

“Look, I just want to offer you a home for a while.”

“Why?”

“I…” I didn’t have an answer, really, and I was getting a bit angry.

“Nothing more?” she whispered and averted her eyes.

“Nothing more. Plus you owe me.”

“How do I owe you?” she laughed again and the twitch in my pants had my attention.

“I saved Fleur.”

Her face dropped as did her arms. Her body seemed to shrink before me.

“You’re right,” she said softly.

“Hey,” I responded, brushing my hand on her cheek and then holding it there for a moment. She looked up at me and those brown eyes warmed mine. I saw more than I wanted to see reflected back at me.

“I was only joking,” I said tenderly. “You owe me nothing. It’s a free offer. No strings.”

She was hesitant for a moment. I think I misread the sensation of her turning her face into my hand. She straightened up forcing my hand to fall free and sighed.

“Okay. I could use the place to stay as I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

I smiled deeply before I heard a deep voice behind me.

“Are you two done, yet?” came the teasing sound of Galehaut.

“We’re done,” Lila said at the same time I said, “Not yet.”

 

 

I was insane to accept the offer to live with Lansing Lotte. Well, not live with him, but stay with him. Well, not stay with him...never mind. It didn’t matter how I argued with myself, I would be in the same apartment with Lansing Lotte, lead guitarist of The Nights and best friend to Arturo King. Not to mention
the
Lady Killer himself: his nickname from the number of women he went through, and destroyed, without returning their loyal interest. Since I’d moved in, he’d had numerous calls from some girl named Elaine, a visit from the non-girlfriend, Layne, and he’d mentioned on more than one occasion, Guinevere DeGrance. It always struck me that when he spoke of her it was with a mixture of sadness and something else, but I couldn’t quite describe it.

I couldn’t think about his love life though, as I had my own issues, which might have been why I took him up on his offer. We had nothing and nowhere else to go. I had to collect the insurance for the apartment as I could never afford to rent another one. The apartment had been paid in full when I got it. I knew I’d never be able to move somewhere else unless I sold it, which I previously had no intention of doing. It was convenient to the pre-school for Fleur, in addition to her new dance lessons, and it was central to many of the shoots I had around the city. Not to mention, it was New York City, and I wouldn’t be able to find anything else affordable near campus to continue my studies.

It was that area that concerned me most. One thing I lost in the fire had been my Nikon D4, a top of the line digital camera, that had been a high-school graduation present from my father. When I announced that I would be staying in New York and attending school for photography, he was so happy that I hadn’t decided to attend Florida State and return to my mother. It had always been an idle threat. Even though we had had our moments after Sara and I moved in with my dad, I still wanted to stay with him more than go back to my mother.

Sara’s and my summer schedule had been reversed, making it mandatory to visit our mother for the summers, but she didn’t hold us to the calendar as airfare was expensive and talk was cheap. She didn’t want us down there anymore than we wanted to go, after the first year, and when Sara got a summer job in NYC, it sealed the deal for us to stay north. Not to mention, that my dad had decided to retire after that first year, claiming he wanted to slow down and enjoy his girls. I had threatened that it was a little too late for that, at times, but he took my insults with grace. For a large man, he was extremely calm in the face of adversity, which was probably why he was so good at his job.

Of all the things lost in the apartment, the item I wanted back the most was the camera, and all the complimenting equipment that I had earned over the years to complete the set and the possibilities for professional photography. In one stupid decision, it was all gone, but that’s how my impulsiveness went. It always got me in trouble.

To top it off, I had to think of Fleur. Because of me, she had nothing again. She had already lost everything important once before: her father, my father, my sister. Because of me, she had nothing left from the fire, and she would be starting fresh. Again. I needed to make amends to her, and the only way was to start without further debts. I would owe Lansing Lotte, but I couldn’t worry about it, at that moment. I had to think of Fleur.

 

 

If I thought it would be awkward with Lila and a four-year old child in my apartment after I had the clearance to return, I was wrong. Some people have roommate remorse over a new living situation; I however, did not. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed the company in my space, and re-evaluated how quiet it had been without other voices. Lila was a photographer and she had flexible hours based on shoots and sessions. She said she photographed anything, but she loved the unusual more than people. She'd been the kid of a bodyguard for some pretty famous people, and admitted there wasn't much to do as a child on the road, but read books or take pictures. She hadn't finished school in the conventional way, so she was taking courses to graduate with an art degree in photography. She said ideally she'd like to work in art therapy, but that would take extra schooling she didn't think she could afford, especially after the fire.

Lila worked hard and had a crazy schedule, but she appeared to have it all organized between her work, her school, and daycare for Fleur. I hadn't seen her frazzled until a week after she moved in. She was rather domestic, as she cooked, cleaned and stocked my refrigerator. I wasn’t involved in anything they did and I had plenty of time on my hands without the band preparing for a concert. While I missed my guitar and plucked at it at times, I didn’t feel the draw to it like I normally would. I was almost afraid to touch my guitar for fear that my enjoyment at playing would finalize Arturo’s disappearance as permanent.

On that night, I could tell Lila was trying to keep it all together between the work, the daycare, her classes, and the details needed to collect insurance for her apartment and their belongings. She'd been on and off her phone with the insurance company and her bank all day, and she seemed a bit stressed out.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, after she hung up the phone for what seemed like the tenth time that day. She was rubbing her temples and taking deep breaths. It was obvious I startled her.

“I need to replace my camera equipment. Only the insurance won’t cover it without proof that I owned the Nikon and the gazillion attachments, as well as the software to develop photos and my laptop, which I need, too.”

“I can get it for you,” I’d offered again.

I’d offered several times to replace their clothes at the very least and their furniture at the most when the apartment was refinished. I was actually making Galehaut pay for it after the investigator found that the toy in the oven didn’t start the fire but a faulty wire in the stove connection. The gas leak hit the candle flames and sparked the fire into an inferno. If the fire didn’t kill them, the carbon monoxide would have, as there was no proof the detector had gone off. I couldn’t recall if it was blaring when I entered to save Fleur, because by then the roar of the fire overshadowed everything.

“It wouldn’t be the same anyway, but thank you.”

“Of course it wouldn’t be the same, it would be brand new.”

I watched as Lila blinked several times and shook her head like she didn’t want me to ask.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded softer.

“My father gave it to me. It wouldn’t be the same to have a new one,” she sighed, blew out some air through her mouth and smiled falsely. She looked sad, like she just needed a break from it all.

“Why don’t you go out for a bit tonight? Have fun with some friends from work, or school, or a date. Anything, just give yourself a break.”

She was hesitant, but finally gave in after asking me, for the tenth time, if I was positive I was okay with Fleur.

“We’re going to be fine. I need to get comfy with my future wife,” I teased and winked at her. She laughed and I had that strange sensation over my vital part again. When she came out of her room in a skintight red dress, I was almost regretting letting her leave. I had brief flashes of what I could do to her if she stayed, but Lila was turning into a friend and I didn’t want to mess that up. I’d already done that with Elaine Corbin. And Layne Ascolat.

I wasn’t alone more than ten minutes when my apartment was buzzed.

“Hello?” I spoke through the intercom.

“Lansing? It’s Guinie.”

I buzzed her up and my hands began to sweat. Guinie had never been to my apartment before. I immediately wondered what I owed to the visit.

I stood at the open door waiting for her. A temporary elevator had been installed while the designs for a new elevator were being made. Guinie exited the elevator and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. She was such a beautiful girl with her chestnut hair and lake blue eyes.  She smiled sheepishly at me and I felt my heart leap in my chest. She hadn’t smiled in weeks.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi.” I waved a hand for her to enter my apartment and I followed after her. She began removing her jacket and I had a double sensation at my core and in my chest. Watching it slip down her back to reveal a silky shirt underneath was a turn on. She spun to face me when she reached my couch, and I swallowed hard. I wanted her like I had never wanted her before. I slid my hands into my jean pockets to disguise the bulge in them, cursing myself for moments before thinking dirty thoughts of my new roommate. I was a mess.

“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to sound casual, but my voice was shaky, giving away my nerves. I felt like that teenage boy who was always too nervous to speak to Guinie, but I wasn’t eighteen anymore, and she certainly wasn’t sixteen. She sat on my couch and her silky blouse slipped open a bit. I could see a dip between her breasts as her shirt was unbuttoned one extra button.  She crossed her long legs in her skinny jeans and I hardened at the motion. I’d seen Arturo watch her legs. I suddenly understood what he was doing. Guinie had a sensual motion about her. The irony was she didn’t recognize it in herself.

“I hadn’t heard from you in a week. You haven’t stopped by the apartment.”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to stop by,” I said in a tone that came out accusatory and bit. She flinched with my response and I rubbed a hand through my flopping hair.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, trying to soften my voice.

“The guys say you have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I laughed.

“I saw the images of you and Layne Ascolat.”

“Oh, Guinie, not you too,” I sighed. I’d taken heat all week for those pictures. I was trying to put some distance between Layne and I to dispel the rumors. Although we’d had an intimate moment in the shower, Layne needed more than a whack job in desperation. I knew again that I couldn’t give her the more she deserved. We’d talked on the phone, but I hadn’t tried to make any plans with her. I also explained about Lila and she seemed to understand that I needed to do it for her. Layne called it my damsel-in-distress syndrome. I had to help a troubled woman.

I didn’t respond further about Layne and Guinie didn’t ask for any more details. 

“Mr. Lansing? I need a drink of water,” came a small voice from the corner of the room that led to the hall. A tiny image of Fleur in her pink pajama set, hiding in the shadow of the hall, was before me, and Guinie turned to look in that direction. When her eyes returned to me, they were full of questions and another emotion…the sadness had returned.

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