Starting from Scratch (Starting from 2)

“Okay,” he whispered.

I kissed him hard, then hopped off the bed and grabbed my damp trunks. “I’m gonna put these on and get to practice. I’ll tell them I got stuck on a phone call after you pushed me in the pool.”

“You pushed me in the pool.”

“Maybe so, but who are they gonna believe?” I opened the door with a chuckle when he scowled. “Nice room, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he replied sheepishly. “I haven’t slept here in years. I can’t believe Gray hasn’t taken these photos off the walls.”

“Maybe he keeps them up for himself. To remind him of a time you were cute and sweet,” I teased.

“Hey. I’m adorable.”

“Yeah, like a porcupine.”

Charlie scrambled off the bed and stood on the opposite side of the door. “We’re not telling them, right?”

I cocked my head. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“Me either.”

“Let’s just act normal and—”

“I don’t do normal very well,” he intercepted.

“True. Be yourself, I’ll do the same and we’ll see where we end up. Deal?”

Charlie pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “It’s a terrible plan, but I can’t think of anything better, so…okay.”

I stared at his mouth for a long moment, then gave in to temptation and kissed him again. But I made myself walk away before I made promises I couldn’t keep. I was an expert at running when things got complicated, and Charlie was the definition of complicated. He was hot and cold, out of my league, and he had way more horsepower than I could handle on my best days. And he was unapologetically out and proud. I should have been itching to get the hell out of town and put as much space as possible between us, but that sounded awful. My best bet was to take my own advice and go with the flow.

4

Charlie

Ky wanted me. Or he wanted something from me, I mused as I placed the Post-it notes from my car onto Ky’s dirty truck, carefully forming them into a giant penis. I probably should have done something neighborhood-friendly, like a happy face. But he said we should act normal, and my version of normal entailed doing the first thing that came to mind. And I definitely had dick on the brain.

And Ky.

The urge to put together a soundtrack to sort out my feelings about whatever was going on between us was strong. But I didn’t know where to start. Okay, I’d start with Mariah Carey, but after that...I had no clue. I was confused and a little scared, but I could tell Ky felt the same way. That was enough for now.

It had to be. We had a band to launch. It would help if I knew what the hell I was doing, but I was winging it big-time and if I wasn’t careful, I’d fuck this up and let everyone down.

I hated that I had to reschedule my appointment with the Sony rep, but I certainly couldn’t show up in the worn workout clothes I found in the drawer in my old bedroom at Gray’s. Herb Jenkins had been very understanding. Which was a bit strange. And he spoke with me directly…also odd. I fully admitted I had a lot to learn about the music business, but the behind-the-scenes wheeling and dealing had to be similar to the film industry. And having a well-known movie producer in the family was its own kind of education. My father never spoke to an agent or manager unless he wanted something from their client.

It seemed a little too good to be true that a huge player was even remotely interested in an unknown indie band. My dad must have had something to do with this. It would be just like him to insert himself and call it “help.” I transferred the last couple of Post-its onto Ky’s windshield before heading for my car to call my father.

“Good afternoon, Rourke Studios,” a chipper male voice answered.

I fastened my seat belt, then squinted at the computer dashboard on my BMW. The number was correct, but the greeting wasn’t quite right. “Is this Giorgio?”

“Yes. Who may I—”

“Where’s Trish?”

“Who may I ask is inquiring?”

“This is Charlie, Sebastian’s son,” I replied tersely. “Is he there?”

“One moment, please.” What the hell? Before I could put my car in reverse, he was back. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Mr. Rourke is on an important conference call and—”

I hung up on him and had Siri take over. “Call Dad’s cell.”

“Hey, Char. What’s up?”

“Are you in your office?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Your boyfriend told me you were unavailable. What happened to Trish? Why is he answering your phone anyway? Why is—”

“Trish is at lunch and Giorgi took over. He must have misunderstood. I have a meeting in an hour with my money guys. We got the green light on the new Baxter movie,” he said excitedly.