Heart Shaped Spotlight

I nodded. “Yes, that’s likely for the best.”

As always, the wine went down smoothly, taking the edge off my heartache for a few hours. I was going to think everything through again with fresh eyes, but that would have to wait until tomorrow.

Chapter Twenty Four ~ Nate

* Leather Pouch *

Looking around the slightly derelict but technically solid warehouse space, I knew it was our new home. “Lora, you said that your brother double checked the power?"

"Absolutely," she said. "Each wall is on its own circuit, so as long as we don't plug everything into one side, we’re golden."

"And it's clean enough for your delicate female tastes?" I smirked.

"Please," she snorted. "I've been in bands where I've had to sleep in the backseat of a car with two other guys after eating bean salad. This place is a damn luxury." She took a long look around the room again. "But I will be scrubbing the bathroom and sweeping the floor before we move in our gear."

"All right then. I'll tell Dave and have him send the check. Thanks for finding this place."

"Being helpful is what wonderful bass playing chicks are for," she grinned.

We turned out the lights, and she locked the door. As we walked toward the streetcar stop, I realized that I didn't want to go back to my new mostly empty apartment yet. It was just so depressing. Everything always looked sort of dirty and sad when it was packed in boxes.

"Hey, do you want to grab a drink?" I asked.

"I should really get some sleep," she said. "We've been pulling some long hours lately." Then she cocked her head and looked at me carefully. "Unless you need the company. Just speak up."

I shook my head. "No, I should probably go unpack."

"Have you called her?" She didn't even have to specify who she meant.

"No. It's been two weeks, and she hasn't even sent me a text."

"You should make the first move, dumb ass," she said, giving me a playful smack on the bicep. "You're both being terrified little bitches."

"Damn, girl, how do you really feel?" I snickered.

"It's good to see you laugh a bit, at least," she said, leaning out into the street to see if the streetcar was coming. "Have you even told her that you had that website taken down?"

"No. She didn't want me to interfere."

"But you did anyway."

I shrugged, my shoulders feeling like they had weights attached to them. "I couldn't let it spread farther. Dave has done a bit of damage control as well, and spread the word that I won't be doing any media if they discuss that whole situation."

"That's probably for the best. But don't you think that Trisha has a right to know?"

"I guess so. But she might be angry with me."

"Then let her be angry," Lora said. "The poor girl just had a whole bunch of weird pressure dumped on her, from her job, and the media, and you. She's probably in a tailspin. I know she's trying to be less timid, but that's a lot for any girl to handle. Don't you think?"

"You're probably right." I sighed. “We need closure.”

Lora peered down the street. "The westbound is coming first. I win." She threw her arms around me in a quick hug, then ran across the street, waving.

I watched her get onto the streetcar, then started walking toward downtown. After a few blocks, it felt like the exercise and fresh air had started to clear my head.

My entire life had been a whirlwind of cranking out songs, preparing to record, moving to Toronto, and securing that rehearsal space. I would finally have a couple of days to breathe, and there was only one person I wanted to talk to.

Pulling out my phone, I sent Trisha a text.