Starting From the Top (Starting from 5)

Clay was like an energizer bunny. He talked nonstop and while his surprise at my lack of memory was genuine, he didn’t let it bother him. Like any good hedonist, he collected thrills, not baggage. He let it go and moved on to the next item on our joint agenda…work.

“…I’ll go over my proposed layout with Charlie this week. I think he’s pumped to get started and—oh, looks like you have a fan club.” Clay pulled me to his side when a flashbulb lit the sidewalk behind me.

I turned automatically, spotting the excited gaggle of college-aged kids a few feet away. I waved lamely and widened my eyes when they screamed in delight.

Okay…

“That’s a new one,” I mumbled as my SUV pulled up to the curb.

“Ah, the sweet sound of fame,” Clay teased cheerily, squeezing my shoulder companionably. “Enjoy it. Are you sure I can’t talk you into a second go?”

I handed the valet a few bucks before discreetly flipping Clay off. He chortled merrily, offering a fist bump on the way to his vehicle. I fastened my seat belt and adjusted my rearview mirror, catching another glimpse of my admirers as I drove away. What the hell was all this?

I thought about calling Charlie to ask if he’d organized a publicity stunt outside the restaurant, but he’d ask about my “date,” and I didn’t want to talk about it while I was still grappling with the idea that I’d actually had sex with the guy. It was so…disconcerting and not gonna lie, the fact that I didn’t remember made me feel dirty.

But Clay wasn’t bothered. True, guys like him didn’t have to play by the same rule book others did. His job was to push the proverbial envelope and he’d become shamelessly good at it, personally and professionally. I could be like that…to a degree. Fans expected rock stars to be wild and crazy, right? And I didn’t have anyone waiting for me at home. No one who cared if I put them first.

The only man I was interested in could never do that for me anyway. His kids would always be his number one priority. As it should be, the mature part of me insisted.

I slowed to a stop behind a Maserati on Santa Monica Boulevard, feeling more alone than I had in years. I was on the precipice of success beyond my wildest dreams, but somehow, it wasn’t enough. It might never be.

My pity party for one was in full motion by the time Vibes came into view. I adjusted the volume on a Metallica classic and at the very last second, made a right by the ice cream shop on the corner before making another right down the alleyway. Justin and Tegan had shown me a few parking tricks to avoid paying valet fees when they’d worked at the club a few years ago.

I eased my SUV into a tight spot behind an industrial-sized trash bin. The menacing sign on the stucco wall stated that trespassers would be fined a million dollars for daring to park there, but the business next door to Vibes closed at six p.m. anyway, so chances were slim the owners would make good on their threat.

I had no plan whatsoever. I wasn’t in the mood for bright lights, bumpin’ jungle beats, and the scent of horny men on the prowl. Moreover, I wasn’t even sure if Sean was here. I hoped so. I could have texted, but I wasn’t sure what I’d say. I just really wanted to see him.

I was fully prepared to walk around the building to the main entrance, but I got lucky when the ginormous bouncer guarding the rear door recognized me. I hadn’t been by in a few months, but I’d been here often enough in Zero’s early days that I knew a lot of the staff.

“Yo, John-ny!” the bouncer called, greeting me with a fist bump and a slap on the back, propelling me a couple of steps forward. “How’s it goin’, man?”

“Good. Busy tonight?” I grinned at the fierce-looking dude whose name I couldn’t remember to save my life.

“It’s fuckin’ Saturday. Of course it’s busy. Who you with? Is Tegan here?”

“I’m on my own. I’ll tell T to stop by, though.”

“Do that. We miss that motherfucker.” He held an arm open in welcome and gave a lascivious grin that looked kind of scary on his not-so-handsome mug. “Go on in. Have fun.”

“Thanks. Hey, is Sean here?”

“Yeah.” The bouncer made a show of peering over my shoulder. “His ride’s here. I’d steer clear if I were you, though. He’s pissed.”

“Why?”

“One of the bartenders didn’t show, and a couple of dudes got caught with their pants down in the bathroom. The usual, but Garrett had to man the bar till a new guy got here, and Sean had to play manager. Made him cranky. Or maybe it was something else. He looked like he wanted to rip someone’s head off. Proceed with caution.”