FIVE #2
“I’ll tell Jimmy you’re okay but maybe…I don’t know, Kace. You might want to lay low for a couple of hours. At least until Ji mmy gets over his own hangover. I mean, to be fair, everyone was pretty wasted last night.” Now I could hear a small smile on my friend’s lips. “It was an epic show. Epic. ”
“Was it?”
“Oh girl, you don’t even know. We’re on the verge of mega stardom and you’re missing it. No, you’re almost wrecking it.”
“But I didn’t, right?”
“Nope. The show must go on.” Lola sighed again. “Get some rest. Sober up for tonight’s show. You’re still good to go, right?” she asked, and I could hear the warning tone in her voice. This wasn’t just my big break, but hers too.
“Sure,” I said weakly. “Thanks, Lola. And tell Jimmy—”
“That you’re sorry? Yeah, yeah. Time for some new material, Kace. Talk to you later.”
I handed the phone back to Jonah. “Thanks.”
“Are the cops going to be busting in the door any minute now?” he asked darkly. “Or am I going to lose my job? Or both?”
“No. Well…maybe.”
Jonah’s eyes widened. “Maybe which ?”
Shame and humiliation flushed my skin red. “The second one. Listen, I’ll talk to your boss at the limo place…” I started as Jonah bolted out of his chair with a curse.
He ignored me and began jabbing at his phone.
“Harry? It’s me, Jonah. I—” He shot me a glare as he listened to whatever was being said on the other end.
I held my aching head in my hands as Jonah tried to explain the situation. Finally, a cell phone appeared in my line of sight.
“Would you mind telling my boss why I couldn’t finish the job last night?” Jonah asked tightly.
“Yeah, sure.” I took the phone. “Um…Hi. Harry, is it? I’m Kacey.
From Rapid Confession. I had…a bad night and Jonah was nice enough to let me crash on his couch.
Nothing happened ,” I added, prompting a strange look from Jonah.
“He wanted to go back to pick up the rest of my band, but I wasn’t doing so hot. He took care of me. Okay?”
Harry promised not to fire Jonah and barked that he wanted the limo back, ASAP. Then he hung up.
Jonah glared at me. “Well?”
“You’re not fired. But Harry wants the limo back. Like, now.”
He nodded. “Okay, fine. Let’s go. I’ll take you back to your band’s house on the way.”
“Um…” I plucked at a stray thread on the afghan.
“What?” Jonah snapped. “You heard my boss. I gotta return the damn car.” He cocked his head at me. “Don’t you need to get back?”
No, I thought. I really don’t. I just wasn’t up to facing it. None of it. Not yet.
I offered Jonah a weak smile. “The aspirin hasn’t made a dent in this headache. Would it be okay with you if I took a nap while you take the limo back? I’ll call a cab later and be out of your hair, I promise.”
Jonah’s dark eyes widened. “You want me to leave you alone in my home while I return the limo—a limo you puked in, by the way—so you can take a nap?”
“I promise I’ll just nap and go,” I said, then felt my stomach drop. “Wait. I puked in your limo?”
Jonah looked like he had a smart-ass retort ready to go, but he must’ve felt sorry for me because he said in a gentler tone, “Don’t you have a show tonight?”
“I have some time before I have to be back.”
Jonah rubbed his chin, looking torn. “After I return the limo, I was planning on going to work. My other work,” he added. “I have a tight schedule, a really tight schedule and I need to keep to it.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to interfere.” I looked up at him and offered a smile. “What do you do for your other work?”
Jonah waved a hand at the glass on the coffee table.
“You’re a collector?”
“No, I make these. ”
My eyes widened as I looked at the glass art with new eyes.
There were two sphere-shaped paperweights, one that looked like it was filled with sea life from a coral reef, and the other holding an incredibly intricate swirl of color.
Beside the paperweights was a bottle striped with gold dust soaked in ribbons of red.
I picked up the paperweight with the sea life in it: anemones with white and yellow tentacles, ruffled ribbons of color, and—somehow—the speckled colorations of tropical fish.
“A piece of the ocean in my hand,” I murmured. I glanced up at him. “You made this?”
“Yeah. It’s what I do. I’m not a limo driver. That’s my night job. By day I’m an industrial artist. Lighting, metal, glass. Mostly glass.”
“You’re really good,” I said. “More than good. This is astonishing.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck, watching me hold the glass.
He probably thinks I’m going to break it. I carefully set the paperweight back down.
“So, I gotta get to the hot shop,” Jonah said. “That’s where I make them, the glass. I’ll be there until about two this afternoon.” He pressed his lips together, thinking. Finally, he said, “I guess… Well, I guess you’re welcome to stay here until then.”
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Jonah said with dry smile.
“There’s some food here in the fridge, if or when you’re up to eating.
Help yourself to the bottled water, too.
If you really need to smoke, there’s a little courtyard in the middle of the complex.
You’ll see the sidewalk just to the right as you go out. It has benches and an ashtray.”
“Okay, sure. Got it,” I said, relief flooding me that I had a few hours before I had to face the music. So to speak.
At the kitchen counter, Jonah scribbled something on a piece of paper and brought it back to me. “This is my cell number. If you need anything, just call. Phone’s in the kitchen ”
I took the paper and met his gaze. Up close, his eyes were warmer. A deep, rich brown.
“Thanks a ton for letting me crash,” I said. “I really appreciate it. Not many people would let a total stranger hang out in their place unsupervised.”
Jonah smiled tightly. “Tell me about it.”
He pocketed his keys and went out, locking the door behind him. He left me alone in his place. Me. The girl who wrecked the Pony Club just hours before, puked in his car, invaded his space and almost cost him his job. He was being so cool about it. More than cool.
He trusts me. Sort of.
Not that I deserved trust. I winced at the thought of what the green room was going to look like tonight. Having to go and do another show filled me with a strange kind of dread.
What is wrong with me?
I figured I could get into less trouble if I slept, and I wasn’t lying to Jonah about needing a nap anyway.
My headache thundered and I wanted to sleep for a million years.
I lay down against the couch cushion and pulled the old afghan over my shoulders.
It wasn’t as ugly as I thought at first. Its weight was comforting. Like a good hug.
My heavy gaze fell over the beautiful array of blown glass on the coffee table. Gorgeous swirls of color and design, trapped and floating in the center of the paperweights, wrapped like ribbons along the body of the bottle.
“Beautiful,” I murmured. My scattering thoughts imagined it would be peaceful and quiet inside one of those paperweights. I could float weightless in a glass ocean, suspended in beauty, surrounded by color and stillness. No noise. No pounding drums or tearing riffs or screaming fans. Just…silence.
And safety.
I was asleep within moments.