Read Sexy Lies and Rock & Roll Page 16


  And God... how I miss him. Gone less than twelve hours and already I'm yearning to get back to Evan. To life on the road. With a rock star. Law practice be damned.

  What in the hell has happened to me?

  With shoulders squared once more, I march into the hospital a woman on a mission. To verify for myself that my dad is okay, figure out what we need to do to get him back on his feet, and then figure out my life. While I still technically had another week promised to Evan for our original thirty-day agreement to tour with him, he asked me a very important question just before I left.

  He couldn't take me to the airport as he had a little thing called a concert he had to give, but he had me wrapped up in a very tight hug as a taxi idled nearby, one that Tyler had apparently arranged along with my flight.

  "I want you to come back as soon as you can," he murmured against my ear.

  I didn't hesitate in the slightest. "Okay."

  "And I want you to stay for the entire tour," he added on.

  Again, no hesitation. My heart was making quick decisions for me. "Okay."

  So it seems I'm going to be touring with Evan for the next few months, and I have no clue in what capacity. I'm assuming girlfriend, but perhaps I'll still work for him. We'll have to iron out those details.

  I make my way to the fourth floor--the cardiac unit--and start looking for his room.

  4005.

  My dad assured me all was well and ordered that I was not to worry about him when I talked to him last night while waiting for my flight to board. Turns out, Dad went into work that morning and after about an hour, started having some chest pain.

  He ignored it.

  It didn't go away.

  He also started feeling a bit nauseated and the pain got worse.

  He popped an aspirin, but ignored it a little longer.

  Only after he mentioned the chest pain to Midge did he go to the emergency room. It was at her insistence, and I owe her a huge debt of gratitude for making him go.

  Turns out, he had two blockages in his heart--which freaked me out--but they were able to put stents in--which alleviated some of my alarm, and it appears that's corrected the problem without the need for bypass surgery.

  It seems as if all is going to be well, and my dad sounded strong and jovial when I talked to him a bit ago after I landed.

  After a few turns down various corridors, I locate room 4005 and give a soft knock to announce my presence just before I push the door open.

  The first thing that greets me is the sound of feminine laughter, and as I step in past the door, I immediately see Midge Payne sitting in a chair next to the bed. With a brief glance, I note she's as beautiful as ever, completely polished and regal looking even in faded jeans, a pair of loafers with a low heel, and a mint-green sleeveless blouse that showcases youthful looking arms despite her age.

  My gaze slides left and my dad's there, beaming up at me. "There she is," he exclaims exuberantly, and I have to admit... he looks damn good. I can't believe he was on the verge of a heart attack just yesterday, but his cheeks are colored and his eyes are bright.

  "Welcome back, Emma," Midge says as she stands from her chair. In a move so shocking I'm actually dizzy for a moment, she takes two strides over to me and gives me a hug. "I know you were really worried about your dad and this has been really stressful on you the last several hours."

  I can do nothing but nod numbly as she releases me.

  I watch as she steps back, cuts a glance to my dad that's warm and caring, and I note my dad gives her the same look in return.

  "Okay, what in the hell is going on here?" I ask with narrowed eyes on my dad.

  His head snaps my way and a look of guilt crosses his face. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean," I drawl with exaggeration, "what is going on between you two?"

  I'm met with dead silence, but a quick glance to Midge shows me there's not an ounce of guilt on her face, just slight amusement.

  "I know there's something going on," I say stubbornly, looking directly at my dad as I dare him to not give me the truth. "I mean... Midge came with you to the hospital, and she's still here now, and you just gave each other 'the look,' and I know something's going on."

  "There's nothing--" my dad starts to say, but Midge cuts him off.

  "Oh, just go ahead and tell her, Cary," Midge says with a wave of her hand his way. "Emma's a smart girl and a tough cookie. She can handle it."

  "Handle what?" I grit out, slightly annoyed that Midge is even involved in this conversation but not taking my eyes off my dad.

  Finally, he lifts his chin with determination and admits, "Midge and I are seeing each other."

  My eyebrows shoot sky high, even though I suspected something like this in the last few minutes after I saw 'the look'. "How long?"

  "Just a few months," my dad says guardedly, and his tone of voice makes my chest tighten. I realize he's afraid I'll be mad that he's dating.

  That is totally not what annoys me. With a huff, I say, "Dad... it's totally okay if you see someone. Mom's been gone almost a year and she wouldn't want you to be alone."

  "But you're pissed," he surmises.

  "No," I say slowly. "I'm annoyed you kept it from me. Seriously... I'm an adult. I can handle stuff like this."

  "Honey," my dad points out the obvious. "You were really close to your mom."

  I resist the temptation to say the word "duh" in return, and instead say, "I was. But I love you too and I want you to be happy."

  And maybe that's because I might be in love too, so I want everyone to feel the same and be happy.

  A warm, tingling feeling of contentment fills me and yeah... I might be in love with Evan.

  With a relieved smile, my dad holds his arms out to me and says, "Then how about getting over here and giving your old man a hug."

  A sideways glance at Midge, and I'm surprised to see a gentle smile on her face. I'd never equate the word "gentle" and "Midge" together, yet that's what I get.

  I smile back at her, figuring I'll deal with what this all means--my dad dating my boss who's probably a good fifteen years old than him--at a later time.

  Instead, I hurry to the bed and give my dad a long hug.

  "And oh my God... you should see the way they look at each other," I say into the phone as I absently stir my coffee. "It's like they're all googly-eyed at each other."

  Evan laughs into the phone and damn... I miss that sound so much. It doesn't sound nearly as nice over a phone as it does in person though.

  "I should write a song about it," he says with a chuckle. "I'll call it The Googly-Eyed Song."

  Evan didn't seem all that surprised when I filled him in on my dad and Midge. I'd come down to the hospital cafeteria for some coffee to help perk me up, and left my dad under the watchful but warm eye of Midge, who didn't seem to have any desire to leave the hospital. After I'd settled into a booth, I'd called Evan and updated him on everything.

  "So did you know about them?" I ask with some slight suspicion as I think back on the fact he didn't seem surprised.

  "Not at all," he says firmly. "But honestly... it makes sense now."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, that Midge sent you over to the jail when I got called in for questioning," he returns. "She knew you'd intrigue me and the only way she'd know that was by knowing you. And Midge doesn't know most of those attorneys in her firm. She's too reclusive, so that must have been your dad talking about you all the time or something."

  That does make sense. "I suppose," I hedge. But it is hard to accept that Midge would do something like that for me. I mean... I was a nobody in her firm.

  And as if thinking about her causes her to materialize, I see her walking across the cafeteria right for me, and my belly flips with nervousness. "Oh shit," I whisper into the phone. "Midge is coming this way. I gotta go."

  Evan laughs into the phone. "Relax, babe. She's a pussy cat."

  Uh, no. A tigress with very sharp claws, but
I don't say that to him. Instead, I mutter, "Talk later" before I hang up on him.

  Midge's eyes are knowing when she slips into the booth across from me, setting a cup of coffee down before her. "Talking to Evan?"

  "Um... yeah," I say vaguely, because as far as I know... Midge doesn't know anything about Evan and me.

  "I can see how much you miss him," she says offhandedly, and I realize... clearly she does know something.

  "We get along very well," I say elusively.

  "You care for him very much," she counters with a raised eyebrow.

  With a huff, I say, "Fine. I care about him a lot."

  "As he does you," she says, and my belly now flutters with happiness.

  "He told you about us?" I ask her hesitantly.

  She gives a shake of her head. "No. But I recognized that look on your face just now, because it seems I have that same look when I think about your father. And when I talked to Evan yesterday to let him know about your father... well, the worry in his voice for you was a dead giveaway."

  "Oh," I say softly, thinking she's able to understand quite a bit just from a brief glance at me and Evan's tone of voice to her.

  "Do you have any questions?" she asks abruptly, and I jerk in surprise.

  "Sorry?" I ask.

  "About me and your dad," she provides. "I care about him a great deal."

  "Um..." I hesitate, because this is Midge Payne. My boss. And I am not entitled to knowledge of her love life. But then I also think this is my dad who lost his wife a year ago and is probably incredibly lonely. I've heard all the rumors about Midge floating around the firm that she's cold hearted and sleeps with all the younger interns in the office because she's only about the sex. "Actually... you've never married. Evan told me that. And well, I'm afraid you might hurt my dad. It's my understanding you've never... um... well, you've never--"

  "--been in love since my first one died?" she provides helpfully.

  "Yes, exactly," I murmur.

  Midge places her forearms on the table and leans closer to me. "Not once in the decades since I've owned this law firm have I ever gone out of my way to help one of my associate attorneys. I believe they should earn every bit of advancement they get, and they need to struggle and claw and scrape just the way I did."

  I nod, because this is a known fact about Midge Payne.

  "And yet," she says softly. "I see and hear and feel how much your father loves you and wants you to be happy. And I also could see, hear, and feel how much he was worried that perhaps you weren't. That while you are clearly a very special woman, you seemed a little lost in life. So I took it upon myself to give you a nudge. I sent you to that jail, hoping you would see you have a lot in you. I also sent you to that jail because I know my nephew and he is one of the most amazing, talented, humble, and loving men I've had the privilege of knowing, and I thought he deserved something special too. I played matchmaker, and I also played concerned senior partner for one of my associate attorneys. And I did all of that, not really for you, but for your father. So you see, Emma... I care about your dad a great deal. I'd even go so far as to say I might have found love again."

  My entire being is reeling from her revelations, and I can only stare stupidly at her with my jaw hanging low in complete and utter shock she'd share that with me.

  Midge gives a little sniff of disapproval and says imperiously, "Honestly, Emma... close your mouth before something flies into it."

  My mouth snaps shut.

  Midge gives me a mischievous smile.

  And for the first time since I came to work for the all-powerful Midge Payne... I don't feel intimidated by her.

  So I give her a hesitant smile back.

  CHAPTER 21

  Evan

  The doors of the bus hiss open, and I look up from the book I'm reading. My down time since Emma left sucks, and I'm trying to fill it with something to broaden my horizons. As such, I'm just starting one of her books she left behind called Marley & Me. It's about a dog and that's all I know, although Emma told me it should give me greater understanding into Sirius and his puppy antics.

  My gaze goes briefly to the big, furry dog lying on my feet at the end of the couch, and I begrudgingly admit he's growing on me even though he ate the corner of the bedroom mattress yesterday.

  I tilt my head far to the left to look over my shoulder and see Tyler coming onto the bus. My body immediately goes tense with unease, and I hate that I fucking feel this way in his presence now. Our conversations are fairly limited, usually before each show, but otherwise we stay out of each other's way, communicating by text if necessary. Emma's been gone two days and this is the first time I've seen him.

  "What's up?" I ask, trying to force civility into my tone. I think I manage it because Tyler gives me a hesitant smile.

  "Got time to talk?" he asks, pausing just at the top of the stairs.

  "Sure," I say as I draw my legs out from under Sirius, who gives a grunt and doesn't even wake up. I swing them to the side and sit upright on the couch, giving a nod to one of the leather swivels across from me.

  Turning the book upside to save my place, I watch as Tyler takes a seat. He leans back, puts an ankle on his knees, and drums his fingers nervously on the leather wrapped armrests.

  "How's Emma's dad?" he asks, and I'm slightly surprised by the genuine tone in his question. Usually any question or comment about Emma is short and clipped.

  "He's doing very well," I tell him. "Got out of the hospital yesterday and is taking a week or so off from work, but he's expected to be just fine."

  Tyler nods. "That's good. I'm glad."

  There's a bit of an awkward silence, and we just stare at each other. Tyler fidgets under my gaze for a moment, then seems to gather some courage. He wraps his fingers around the edges of the armrests and pulls himself up into an upright position. Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees and looks me right in the eye, a move that indicates this is a serious conversation.

  I brace.

  "We need to clear the air," he says simply, and I tense even further. "And in order to do that, I think I need to give you an apology."

  A jolt of surprise causes me to sit up a little straighter. "Apology?"

  "Yeah," he says, his gaze absolutely unwavering. "I've obviously come on too strong about the Phoenix deal, and because I was so focused on it and excited, I think I may have taken out my aggressions on Emma. So I need to apologize to you about that, and of course, to Emma when she comes back. She is coming back, right?"

  I nod, still a little off kilter by this abrupt turnabout in Tyler's attitude. "Yeah... once she feels her dad's okay enough to be by himself."

  I smile inside at that little joke, because her dad is not by himself. He's got both Midge and Emma hovering over him, and I bet he's eating that shit up.

  Tyler leans backward, rubs his hand over his jaw. "While the apologies are well warranted, I did want to talk a little bit more about the Phoenix deal."

  And just like that, I tense back up. Not because I think Tyler has a nefarious intent at this point, as he does seem genuinely remorseful, but because deep down into my soul, I don't think I really want to sign with a label right now. Still, I think I need to give him this opportunity since he's coming at me in the correct way right now.

  "Alright," I say with a forced smile. "Let's talk."

  "I think perhaps I forgot to remember what's important to you on a personal level," Tyler begins right away, and instantly some of the anxiety making my chest tight lessens. "I still believe the Phoenix deal is a good move for you, but maybe if we can come at it from the angle of what can we do to make it better on a personal level, maybe we can find some middle ground."

  I wasn't sure about that, because my understanding is that these contracts are pretty stringent and not overly negotiable. Still, I need to give this some mature thought with Tyler, who seems to be in a more objective frame of mind at this point.

  So I try to make this as clear to my friend
and manager as I possibly can, and hope to fuck he can really understand it. "Tyler... not everyone who gets that first taste of fame and fortune craves more. Sure, I suppose most people always want to succeed and get better and bigger at what they do, but not everyone feels that way."

  "And you don't?" he asks with his head tilted and his eyebrows furrowed, clearly perplexed.

  Smiling, I shake my head. "I always want to get better, but I'm not sure about bigger. Or richer. Or more famous. Maybe. I just don't know, and that's the problem. It's all so new to me I'm having a hard time trying to figure out what is the best for me on a personal level. But what I do know is that I'm not sure I want to be owned by a label. I'm not sure I'm cut out for that type of life where I'm at their beck and call, and I have to be where they want and when they want it. I have to produce music for them, and not for me. It seems a little plastic feeling to me, you know?"

  "You know your deal with Phoenix doesn't have to be typical," he offers. "I mean, I'm sure they are willing to give up some of that stuff. With indie music on the rise, they know they have to move with the change in the industry. They have to appease their artists a bit more."

  "Maybe," is all I can say, because I'm not sure I really trust that sentiment.

  "Maybe I should talk to Emma about this," Tyler muses thoughtfully. "I mean... if I could get her to understand that if we approached Phoenix more from the perspective of these things, she would feel better about the deal."

  "Wait a minute," I say as I now lean forward and put my hands on my knees. I pin him with a direct look. "Emma isn't pushing me to stay indie if that's what you're thinking."

  "She's not?" Tyler asks, clearly surprised by this news.

  "Fuck no," I assure him. "She's done nothing more than advise me about the pros and cons of each. We've talked about it a lot, but it's basically her making sure I understand the legal implications. She won't take a stand either way, despite me asking her to."

  And that's the honest fucking truth. She's refused to tell me what she thinks I should do, point blank insisting it's not for her to decide and she doesn't want to sway me. I even tried a different tact with her one night when we were talking about all of this, and asked her, "Well, if you were in my shoes... if this was you with these choices, what would you do?"

  She just laughed at me, kissed me on my jaw softly, and said, "That's the oldest trick in the book, Evan. And I'm not falling for it."