Starting from Scratch (Starting from 2)

“Hot pink,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“There’s gotta be a reason, and fuck knows I’ll never guess. What is it?”

“I’m not telling you. You’ll just make fun of me.”

“Me? Never. Go on…tell me.”

Charlie folded his arms defensively. “Fine. It’s my personal power pair. It’s going to be a rough day, and I need all the help I can get.”

“The guys aren’t going to be mad, Char,” I said gently.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll deal with it later. I may not go to the studio today. And not because I’m avoiding everyone. I have a meeting with Sandstone later and—”

“Why?”

“For a number of reasons. I need to learn from my oversight. If it’s possible to salvage this and come up with a deal that works for both sides…fabulous. If not, we move on. I can’t leave it the way it is now. It feels unprofessional and squicky.” He made a grossed-out face and shrugged.

“Is that a technical term?” I teased.

“Yes. And you know what? The one thing I’ve learned over the past few months is that this is a very squicky business. Not so different from the movie industry at all. These people are sharks.”

“At least you can ask your dad for pointers. He wheels and deals behind the scenes for some big ass films. We might not be in the same league, but it’s the same general idea, right?”

He looked at his watch and sighed. “Yeah, but my dad doesn’t give advice. He takes over. If I tell him anything, he’ll assume it’s an invitation to fix my problems by calling in favors. He means well, but I don’t want Zero to make it because Sebastian Rourke asked his buddy at Sony to listen to the band his son is managing.”

“So Sony is out?”

“Not necessarily, but we all agreed they’re too big for you guys. My gut tells me that a smaller label that will grow as Zero does is a better fit. It doesn’t have to be Sandstone, but something like them would be perfect.”

“Maybe we should start our own label,” I said off-handedly.

“If I only knew how.”

“Ask your dad.”

Charlie scowled. “You obviously weren’t listening. If I told him I wanted to start my own label, I’d end up working for him. I know him. He’d want to fund the project, hire the best people, and generally take over. I’d end up in corner office with a sweet salary and a grandiose title, twiddling my thumbs, working for someone else. He’s a bulldozer. The good-natured kind you don’t see coming. He means well but…it wouldn’t work. It might for Zero, but I’d get left out. Geez…that makes me sound like a selfish brat, doesn’t it?”

“No, I get it. It’s not about control, it’s about having something of your own.”

“Exactly.”

“Everyone needs that, Char. It’s why I started skateboarding. I needed something that was mine. It has more to do with maintaining sanity than being selfish. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to see if you can be successful on your own.” I straightened my legs under the table to rub my calf against his. “On the other hand, it’s important to know when to ask for help.”

“Ah, I see,” he hummed sarcastically. “So you think I should ask my dad for help?”

“Not help. But it couldn’t hurt to ask for advice.”

“Hmph.”

I leaned across the faux-wood veneer table and stole a piece of bacon from his plate, swiping my hand away before he stabbed me with his fork. “Hey, we’re on the right path. We’ve got two shows this week, and our set list fuckin’ rocks. It’s gonna be amazing. So stop beating yourself up. Zero is coming together.”

“Thanks. You’re right.” Charlie smiled.

I returned the gesture and got lost in the moment. Or in Charlie. I studied the color of his eyes. The green-and-gold flecks and the deep shade of blue. They looked like sea glass. The bright pieces that washed to shore and glistened in the sunlight, begging to be picked up and taken home. At that very second, I felt that way about him.

It was practically my duty to break the connection with a bad joke or a teasing remark.

“Your eyeliner is messed up on this side.” I set my thumb under his left eye and got my hand smacked.

“I’m not wearing eyeliner, genius.” He swallowed a mouthful of pancakes, then reached for his coffee mug and studied me over the rim. “We should talk about Saturday, shouldn’t we?”

“It was amazing.”

Charlie smiled. “Yeah. It was.”

“I can’t wait to do it again.”

“What about Zero?”

“That’s separate,” I replied quickly. “I don’t care if they know or not, but what we do isn’t anyone’s business.”

“You’d tell them?”

“Sure, why not?”

Charlie’s brow creased slightly. “So you don’t care who knows that we…”

“Fucked,” I supplied.

“Well, good for you two! Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked with a hearty chuckle.