Chapter Six

Jamie stared at Allison blankly. “What? Nothing that you just said made sense.”

Allison ignored the lunch she had ordered. She was too tense to eat.

She’d texted Jamie and begged her to meet her on her lunch hour. “I lost my lottery ticket. I called the commission and there’s nothing they can do. So I’m broke again.”

“That’s horrible. Absolutely horrible.” Jamie looked like she was going to cry. Allison knew the feeling. “Baby, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need me to return some of those clothes for you? Or go apartment hunting?”

“Considering I quit my job too, in a video to Chantel last night with Marco Lucky, I’m going to need you to both take a look at my résumé and let me crash with you and Jonathon for a few weeks after the first of the month.”

“Sure, of course, you can stay as long as you’d like.” Jamie took a huge sip of her wine. “Good Lord, I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it.” Allison had woken up after only a couple of hours of shitty sleep feeling oddly pragmatic. That money hadn’t been hers. It was a stroke of dumb luck to win it and a stroke of bad luck to lose it. But she felt galvanized, ready to take charge. It was like having the pot of gold yanked away from her made her want to grab it for real this time. It own it. Deserve it. It was terrifying to face an uncertain future, but then maybe she had needed the jolt. She’d been sleepwalking through life. While mumbling complaints.

She casually dropped the other half of what she needed to tell Jamie.

“Also, I’m going to California today with Marco for a few days.” There it was. The part that might even be whackier than winning and losing the lottery in the course of eighteen hours.

“What? Are you crazy?” A piece of arugula fell off Jamie’s fork as she dangled it in midair. She gawked at Allison, eyes ginormous.

“Probably.” Allison had been surprised at how little she had hesitated when he had so casually invited her to stay with him for a few days. Like it was no big deal. So she’d told herself it wasn’t a big deal. “But I need to get out of New York for a minute. This is perfect.”

Now Jamie downed half her glass of wine. “But… but… he’s famous,”

she whispered, glancing around like he might pop up from behind the server station. “I’m going to pass out. Where are you staying?”

“His house.” Ironic, she realized, since she had been weirded out at the idea of going to his apartment in New York. But that would have felt real.

Going to California was like a fantasy, an escape from reality. The vacation he’d suggested before she got down to the business of her real life. It was only two days. It wasn’t like she was going to Cali Girl in forty-eight hours.

Jamie coughed. “His house. Good Lord. Did you knock boots with Marco Lucky last night? OMG. Was it amazing?” Her cheeks were red and she looked gleefully scandalized.

Allison laughed. “No, I did not. We made out. Which was hot. And can you please stop calling him by his full name? It’s weird. He’s just Marco.”

“To you! Not to the rest of the free world.” Jamie waved her napkin in front of her face. “You don’t understand how crazy this is.”

“I’m pretty sure I do.” Allison leaned in closer, not wanting anyone to mysteriously overhear her. Not that anyone in this place was even paying any attention to them. One of the beauties of New York was obscurity in a crowd. Yet given that space was always at a premium, the couple at the table next to them was literally twelve inches away from them. “I mean, I was a total jerk to him.”

“Guys like bitches. It’s a fact.”

That was flattering. “Are you saying I’m a bitch?” When Jamie’s face fell in alarm, Allison laughed. “I’m kidding. I know I’m a bitch. I mean, I was to Marco. But he said he likes my honesty. That I’m not sucking up to him. Then we went to the top of the Empire State Building and on a carriage ride, and I don’t know… we talked. He’s actually really… nice.” It was a lame word, but she wasn’t sure if there was a better one for it. “I think he’s lonely.”

“How is a rock star lonely?”

“Jams, you of all people should get it. You’re always feeling sorry for people. Though I’m not suggesting you feel sorry for a guy who is filthy rich and hugely successful, but I am saying that there is something to people in his position not being able to trust that anyone truly cares about them. Everyone has an angle and wants to use him. He didn’t say that, exactly, but it’s the sense I get. I think being with me makes him feel normal.”

Jamie wiped her mouth and nodded, her auburn curls bouncing. “I get that. But Al, be careful. This is flirting with disaster. It’s like a day at Disneyland. You can visit but you can’t stay.”

“I know that.” She knew that more firmly than anything else. She didn’t belong in that world. “I have no intention of being any man’s arm candy or flavor of the month. Nor do I want to be a card-carrying member of the dick-sucking harem. But I need the escape, I really do. I need to regroup and think, and what better way to do that than lying beside a pool in Southern California? It’s raining outside and it’s fifty degrees here.”

“True.” Jamie bit her lip and glanced nervously at the table next to them.

“Don’t tell Jonathon this, pinky swear, but I am so jealous of you right now.

I had a mad crush on Marco Lucky in college.”

Allison laughed. “I know, sweetie, I was there. And you’re doing the last-name thing again.”

“He’ll always be Marco Lucky to me.”

“He’ll always be the guy who let me cry on his shoulder when I lost my lottery ticket.” The memory made her throat tighten. There was no ego there. She would have expected Marco to be impatient and uninterested in her problems. But he’d hung in there until the bitter end, giving her words of encouragement and telling her private memories.

“Aw,” Jamie sighed. “That’s so romantic. Oh my God, what if Marco Lucky falls in love with you? I’ll die.”

The thought made Allison’s butt cheeks make a fist. That was the last thing she needed to be fantasizing about. It would ruin her. “You just told me not to fall for him! That I can’t stay in his world, and now you’re going googly-eyed about him being in love with me. You make no sense.”

“That was before I saw your face go all soft when you were talking about how he comforted you.”

“Ew.” Allison stabbed her own salad. “My face did no such thing.”

Though she had to admit, she felt a little heat rising in her cheeks.

“So this is how the other half lives,” Allison said to Marco as she settled down onto the seat next to him. “This plane is like a limo in the sky. It’s crazy.”

Marco couldn’t argue with her. “It is kind of crazy, isn’t it?” As was the fact that she was with him.

He couldn’t stop grinning, even when he tried, and he was well aware his manager had made note of it. The prick had given him a couple of head shakes and eye rolls. What irritated Marco was that Harry seemed to think he’d fallen off the wagon, both with alcohol and women, and he’d done neither. He wanted to let him know that without coming right out and saying it. He figured if he poked, Allison would say it for him.

“Want to join the mile-high club?” he asked her with a wink.

“I shudder to think how many women have been penetrated on this plane. I will not be joining their ranks, but thanks for the well-thought-out seduction attempt in the presence of four other people. It was classy, but I still have to decline.”

She didn’t disappoint. That was for sure. He laughed. Harry and the other guys stared in stunned silence for a second, then they started laughing too. He felt ridiculously proud, like he’d done something extraordinary by convincing her to come to LA with him. But he’d never expected her to say yes, that was for damn sure, and he was thrilled she had.

This was also throwing a wrench into his plans to take it nice and slow sexually with Allison. How had he thought inviting her to stay at his house was going to allow him to ease into intimacy with her? Dumbass. He was just a dumbass. It was like he kept finding new ways to torment himself and Allison was just the latest.

“And here I thought you were adventurous,” he told her.

“If adventurous is a code name for easy, then you’ve come to the wrong woman.” She gave him a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “But you already knew that. You’re just showing off for your friends. I understand.”

Aidan, who had been messing around on his tablet, tossed it aside and raised an eyebrow at Allison. “Do you have a sister? Because I’m pretty sure my life would head in a better direction if I had a ballbuster like you riding me. Literally.” He winked.

“Hey,” Marco said. “Lay off.”

It was too territorial. He knew it instantly. Everyone else knew it as well. There was an momentary silence then Aidan was grinning. Harry was frowning. Sharon, his assistant, couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. Then she realized, clapped it shut, and hid her smile behind her hand. Aidan laughed. Harry looked like he had indigestion.

“So that’s how it is, huh?” Aidan said. “Well, well, well. Never took you for a sucker, Marco my man, but have fun with it.” Then he asked Sharon,

“Can you get me a drink? I have a headache. Vodka tonic, please, you’re a sweetheart.”

“Try aspirin,” Harry said as Sharon stood up and went over to the mini-fridge on the plane. “We haven’t even taken off yet.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Aidan eagerly took the drink from Sharon and downed half of it. He gripped the glass on his knee and leaned back with a sigh.

Marco remembered that feeling well. With alcohol, it wasn’t as insidious as drug addiction. There wasn’t that deep, obvious craving. It was subtle, the “I could use a drink,” that fooled you into thinking you weren’t an alcoholic, didn’t need it, weren’t addicted. That you could stop at any time. But that sigh that Aidan gave as he took his first sip of liquor for the day was no different than the sigh of the heroin addict plunging his needle in. Marco reminded himself of that feeling, and allowed the craving to wash all over him now. Instead of shoving it away, he faced it, embraced it. He wanted a drink too, but only because life’s important moments seemed to socially demand booze, and today felt different. Important. He was eager.

He recognized the anticipation as similar to the way he felt before he went on a songwriting binge. It was a creative energy that itched and buzzed. It made his leg bounce. His shoulders tense.

But this time, it also made his cock hard. Because he wasn’t anticipating picking up a guitar and letting his thoughts pour out in music. He was ready to have Allison. To pick her up and pour into her. It had him edgy, but in the best way possible.

And everyone knew it. At least everyone but Allison. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking. Her face was fairly guarded, her sarcasm obviously front and center. “Can I get you anything?” he asked her. “Water or a drink?

There are snacks in the fridge too. Grapes and cheese.”

“Unless my lottery ticket is in that fridge, I’m good for now, thanks.”

He knew she was still upset about that, and frankly, if it had been him, he would have been on a bender. But she was holding it together pretty damn good. “I think odds are higher for you buying a new ticket and winning a second time, than you opening that fridge and finding your ticket in there.”

She made a face. “I don’t think I’m buying any more tickets.” She glanced around the small plane, saw everyone else was distracted, and murmured, “Thanks for the invite. I appreciate it. You’ve been seriously a stand-up guy.”

“You’re welcome.” That actually meant a lot to him. More than it should.

“Now why do I feel like we’re supposed to hug it out?” she asked.

Always an opportunist, Marco eyed her. “We can do that. I think it’s a good idea, in fact.”

“Hug isn’t a euphemism.”

He smirked at her. “So dirty all the time. I wasn’t suggesting any such thing.” He held his arm out. “Come here. Give me a hug.”

“Now you’re just being weird.” She tilted her head like she thought he was going to grab her. “But I guess I’ve done weirder things than hug a rock star on his private jet. No, wait. I haven’t.”

She moved into his arms, scooting along the soft leather seat so she could reach him. She gazed up at him. “Hey,” she said softly. “I felt like I needed a preamble.”

“You never need a preamble to touch me,” he said. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. She was wearing a black sweater and a red leather jacket, and it crinkled against his arm. “Just reach out and grab whatever you want, whenever you want.”

Allison laughed softly. “Will do. Now if your coworkers weren’t four feet away, I’d let you kiss me.”

He arched a brow. “You’d let me? How generous of you. But don’t do me any favors.”

“Did I hurt your ego? Get used to it.”

It was his turn to laugh. “Just hug me, damn it. This isn’t a real hug and you’re stalling.”

“Fine.” She grumbled a little but put her hands around his neck and embraced him.

Marco closed his eyes for just a brief second, long enough to breathe in her scent but not long enough that anyone would notice. Then, when he knew enough time had passed that she would try to bail on the hold, he slid his hands under her ass and hauled her from her seat to his.

“What the hell?” she asked. “What are we, seventeen? I am not sitting on your lap, oh my God.”

Yet she wasn’t scrambling to get away from him. There was a romantic hidden deep beneath her layers of sarcasm and frequent eye rolls. He was convinced of it. “Shh. You’ll be more comfortable over here.”

“That is the biggest bunch of bullshit I’ve ever heard in my life, and if girls are stupid enough to fall for that then they deserve to have their hearts broken.”

Interesting. “Is that what you think? That I’m going to break your heart?”

Allison blanched. “Of course not! There’s that ego again. I’m not going to fall in love with you.”

He didn’t expect her to. Nor did he expect to fall in love with her. But he loved messing with her. She was very easy to rile, and he enjoyed watching her bluster. It was easier to take than seeing her sad or full of self-doubt.

“You don’t know that. I hear I’m a catch.”

“If you like dirty artists, sure. Not my thing.”

Marco stroked the back of her jeans with his thumb, leaning in closer to her, studying her full, glossy lips. “No? What’s your type? Right now I’m into prickly brunettes.”

“Prickly?” She reared back to glare at him. “I’m not prickly, you asshole. And stop grinning at me.”

He laughed. “I can’t help it. You’re so easy to bait.”

She tried to shove away from him, but he held her tightly.

Unfortunately, the pilot came over the speaker announcing they were cleared for takeoff and everyone needed to buckle up. Allison scrambled off him with a look of triumph, and he let her go. She clicked her seat belt in place, pulling it so tightly it was a miracle she still had circulation in her legs. He was about to tease her further when he glanced over and caught Harry’s eye. His manager shook his head at him. He frowned back. What the hell was Harry’s problem?

Apparently Harry was going to tell him. He gestured toward Aidan, who was on his second drink, and shook his head again. “What, like we don’t have enough fucking problems? Now you have your head up your ass?

Robert is going to do time, you know. This is his fifth DUI. There is no way he’ll get away with less than ninety days, and we have a record to cut. But whatever. Just enjoy your lap dance.”

Now that pissed him off. “Fuck you, Harry. Don’t talk to me like that.

I’ve been sober for a year and living like a goddamn monk and I’ve been there for every meeting, every rehearsal, every tour date and appearance and all the other stupid crap you demand from me, without complaint. I’m not the one who scored a DUI last night, yet I still dropped my plans to fly

back to LA on twelve hours’ notice, without complaint, so go suck my dick.

You want to yell at somebody? Call Robert in jail. Or knock the swizzle stick out of Aidan’s hand over there the way you did mine, or is it just me who isn’t allowed to drink vodka?” He was ranting, he knew it, and he didn’t want to expose Allison to their internal band bullshit, but enough was enough. He wasn’t going to take the hit for shit he wasn’t doing. For the first time in years, he had it together. Totally together, and he wasn’t going to tolerate Harry’s finger stuck in his face.

“Hey!” Aidan said. “Leave me out of this. When has my drinking ever been a problem? I’m not the one who wrapped my car around a pole or almost drowned in Chicago.”

That was a low blow. “Fuck you, too, Aidan,” Marco said vehemently.

“Fuck all of you,” Aidan responded as the plane started down the runway.

As they rose into the air, Sharon, who was in her early fifties, gave a big harrumphing sigh from her seat. “I’m not listening to this for four hours. I’ll quit, Harry. I raised three boys on my own and I don’t need this nonsense in my life, seriously. It’s not worth the paycheck to have you all squabbling like a pack of five-year-olds. I did my time.”

“Maybe everyone needs to just calm down,” Allison said.

Marco was too irritated to be embarrassed, even though he really should be. “I’m sorry, Allison. You shouldn’t have to listen to this.”

“Look, I get it. You all spend a ton of time together and everything has to be a collaboration, a group effort. That’s hard. But bitching at each other is never going to work. It seems to me like the person you’re all angry with is the one person who isn’t here, so maybe stop taking out your disappointment with Robert on each other.”

“Dude,” Aidan said. “The brunette speaks with sense.”

“My name is Allison,” she told him. “Not the brunette. Unless you’d like me to start calling you the bass player, which I can do.”

Aidan laughed. “Allison. Got it.” He drained his glass. “I need another drink.”

Marco’s head started to throb. He could feel the tension settling in for a good, long stay. He hated feeling like this. Hated when he got angry, lost it.

But he was tired of getting called out for shit he hadn’t done. He’d made his mistakes, he paid the price, and how long did he have to be treated like a fuck-up? It was times like that when he wondered if he’d be better off on

his own, but that wasn’t a good idea, and he knew that. He wasn’t Justin Timberlake. He was a rocker. He couldn’t pull an album off without his band. But it reminded him yet again of how this had stopped being fun, had stopped giving him personal and creative satisfaction. He wanted to find that again.

He leaned back against the seat and rolled his gaze toward Allison. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “You’ve never heard me and Jamie go at it when one of us eats the last of the Ben & Jerry’s without sharing. It’s ugly.”

He laughed. “Somehow I doubt it’s quite the same thing.”

Allison reached over and patted his knee. “Probably not, but don’t worry about it. I’m not really delicate, you know. Plus this makes you all seem human in your pettiness. I appreciate that.”

Well, there was that. He shook his head at her. “You have a very unique way of looking at the world. I like it.” Hell, he liked her.

If he wasn’t careful, all his teasing her about her falling in love with him was going to turn around and bite him in the ass.

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