Chapter Three
Three
Nico
A little hasty, I knew. So I liked to have a little fun, who cared? I was a grown-ass man. Not a child. And I certainly did not need to go to rehab with a bunch of fucking junkies.
I moseyed myself right down the hall, to the bank of elevators, and stabbed the down button. Following my instincts, and hiding from all that... whatever that was in my room... I found myself at the hotel bar, nursing a whiskey neat and making eyes at the stacked waitress across the room.
Next thing I knew, Sebastian slid onto the stool next to me. Talk about a buzzkill. I sipped my drink and ignored him.
“Bro,” he said.
I winked at the waitress, making her blush. She definitely knew who I was and was most definitely interested. Perfect.
“Brother,” he said again, gripping my forearm this time, preventing me from lifting the glass to my lips.
I finally met his gaze, taken aback by the confusion and hurt I saw there.
“What the hell are you doing?” he murmured, sliding the drink away from my grasp and quietly ordering us both waters.
“Having a drink. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.” I sat back away from him. “Please. Enlighten me.”
He sighed heavily, like he’d been holding it in for days. “We’ve all known you like to party. Hell, we’ve all done our fair share. But, Nico, the amount of alcohol, the drugs, the women? You’ve been spiraling out of control ever since...” His words faded off and he suddenly couldn’t meet my eyes anymore.
“Ever since when?” I prodded, wanting to force him to say the words. “Because I’m not doing anything we don’t all—”
“Ever since your dad came to the show that night.”
I froze as liquid heat filled my chest, wrapping around my heart like lava. He had no idea how his words hit their intended target, and I had no intention of letting him know.
“Fuck you, King,” I spat, spinning back to the bartender and lifting my hand to order another drink.
“No, fuck you,” he shot back, his voice low and full of venom to match my own. “We all know you’re hurting, and we’ll be damned if we sit back and watch you self-destruct.” He sighed and dropped his head, cupping the back of his neck. “You stubborn son of a bitch.”
I thanked the bartender for my fresh whiskey, but I didn’t take a sip. Instead, I studied the top of my friend’s head. He was right. I was stubborn. I also had my pride. I spun the glass of amber liquor on the bar as emotion crowded my throat. “I can’t go to rehab, man.”
His head shot up and red-rimmed eyes met mine.
“I’m not saying I need it,” I clarified. “I’m just saying... the thought of going to a place like that...” I shrugged. “I just can’t.”
“Why not? There’re some really nice ones. Mr. Johnson’s got a list upstairs. He was gonna let you pick one and—”
I shook my head and continued to spin my glass as I kept my eyes on the liquor. “My favorite cousin growing up went to rehab. It was a decent place on paper, but all they did was dope her up on meds, have circle discussion once a day, charge her family an arm and a leg, then send her home with the label addict and worse off than when she went in. She relapsed and died a year later.” I lifted my gaze to his again. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
His entire body wilted. “Dude. You never told us.”
I contemplated sipping my whiskey. “Not something I like talking about.” I hoped he heard what I was not saying. “Her dad and my dad are brothers, and they are just alike.”
He locked on instantly. “I’m so sorry.”
I nodded, accepting his sympathy as I decided to take a sip.
We sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Do you really want to quit the band?”
I glanced over. “Do you want me to?”
“Is that a serious question?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck no, I don’t want you to quit. We’re family. We just want the old Nico back again.”
I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped me. “Yeah, well... pretty sure that’s impossible.”
Pain filled his face. “I don’t believe that.”
I shrugged. That made one of us.
He stood and tapped the bar. “Let me go back upstairs and talk to everyone. See what I can work out for you.”
I studied my friend. Like really studied him. “Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah. Why would you do that?”
“Because.” He clasped my shoulder. “I remember my brother who shared cheeseburgers with me when it was all we could afford and slept on the floor so I could have the couch. You sweet-talked bar managers into giving us a shot when we were nobodies. You kept us laughing when we didn’t have two dimes to rub together. You are just as much a part of Zero Energy as I am, and you’re going through something right now that I don’t pretend to understand, but that won’t make me give up on you, bro. We’re family and families stick together.”
He squeezed my shoulder, then turned and walked away, leaving me feeling a bit hollow. What had I done to my friends? To myself?
The waitress walked by, trying to get my attention, but even she wasn’t doing it for me right then, so I ignored her.
I sipped my whiskey again, but it just tasted sour, so I shoved it aside and drank my water instead.
About twenty minutes later, I was toying with the idea of going back to my room when David and Lance slid onto the stools on either side of me.
The bartender approached and placed napkins in front of both of them. “What can I get you gentlemen?”
“Just a club soda for me,” David said as Lance waved him off.
Once he was served his drink, he sipped, then studied me from the side. “So, Sebastian spoke to us.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. And while I think rehab is your best option, I understand your hesitation. So I’ve talked it over with Lance and I’m willing to give you another option.”
I shot him a look.
“We just met,” he explained. “I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot here, but I need you to understand, the same rule applies. This will be your final option.”
I clenched my water glass. “What is it?”
“You’ll work one-on-one with a therapist for the next six months. Follow whatever plan they come up with for you.”
“Therapy?”
He nodded. “Therapy.”
Something in my chest lightened and I could breathe again. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”
“Great.” He took a big sip of his drink, then stood, tossing some cash down on the bar. “Oh, there’s one other thing...” He pulled out a business card and slid it my way. “I’ll need you to come by my office as soon as you’re back in LA.”
“What?” I picked up the card and studied the address. “Why?”
He leaned in, reminding me of a shark again. “Because for this to work to my satisfaction, I’m going to need to make sure you comply.”
“What do you mean?” I glanced over to Lance, but he was already looking to the exit.
“I mean I’m vetting the therapist who will be working with you, and I’ll be assigning one of my most trusted associates to oversee your compliance.” He smiled cordially like this was anything other than blackmail. “But don’t worry, Nico. You can meet them both when you come by the office.” He slapped my arm. “It’s gonna be fine.”
They walked away, leaving me feeling like I’d just been had but I didn’t give it too much thought. I could bullshit some therapist with sad stories about my childhood or whatever and dodge the company babysitter. Piece of cake. I could survive anything for six months.
“Fuck this!” I fumed on speakerphone with my bandmates ten minutes after arriving at the offices of Johnson & Moseby Publicity. “I’m sorry, guys, but I’m gonna have to quit, or you’re gonna have to fire me, but I am not working with that chick!”
Cohen just laughed, making me want to pull my hair out. “That chick is a good friend and mentor to my therapist, Rose,” he said. “If she says she’s good, then she’s good.”
“She’s old enough to be my grandma!”
“So?” This from Sebastian. “Maybe they wanted someone you wouldn’t try to sleep with.”
“Not funny,” I said. “She also acts like my grandma. The woman scolded me for my manners the minute I walked into the room.”
Cohen cackled. “Sounds like just what you need.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned farther back in the lobby chair, staring daggers at the door that I knew led to the conference room they were all waiting in for me. “I doubt that. Plus, how the hell is that old bag supposed to keep up with me? Seriously, this is the best therapist they could find?”
“You’re being an asshole,” Corey said. “Sounds like she needed to slap you upside your head for your shitty manners.”
I sighed. Even I knew I was being a dick. This was just literally the last place I wanted to be today, and I felt like pond scum with the way everyone was staring at me in this fancy high-rise. “Yeah, maybe. Guess I’ll go back in there.”
“Behave this time,” Sebastian added.
“Maybe.” I hung up and uncoiled to stand, winking at the receptionist just because I could as I bypassed her and strolled back toward the conference room.
I summoned all my Nico Santorini rock star energy as I reached for the handle and swung open the conference room door, ready to spar with the little old lady from Pasadena again.
But all the air was literally sucked from my body... from the room... as my gaze locked on the biggest, brightest, most perfect pair of baby blues I’d ever seen. The most perfect angelic face I’d ever seen. Hell, the most stunning woman I had ever seen.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
“Nico,” David said, rising from his seat next to her. “You’re back.”
Still, I stared. I couldn’t help it. And she stared back. No flirtation, just taking me in. And definitely not intimidated. I loved it.
“Done with your temper tantrum?” asked my new manners coach/therapist, Priscilla.
I snapped my gaze away from the new beauty in the room to the mouthy old lady. “You talk to all your clients like children?”
“Only when they act like children.” She lifted a brow, silently calling me out on my behavior.
“Are you ready to talk?” David said, ignoring our interplay.
I sighed and flipped a chair around to straddle it backward just because I figured it would piss off prissy Priscilla. “Sure. Let’s talk.”
David nodded. “Great. So, as we established, Dr. Evans will be your therapist for the next six months. Whatever she deems necessary for your treatment, you are to comply with to the letter. If it affects your recording schedule, she will notify me and Lance, and we will work it out. If needed, she can travel with you on your upcoming tour. Any questions?”
I thought about asking about her life insurance policy if she keeled over because she was so old, but I choked it back. “Nope.”
“Okay.” David nodded. “And I’m sure you remember me mentioning someone from my firm monitoring your progress?”
I nodded as something began to buzz along my veins much like it did before a big show.
Slowly, he shifted his attention to the blond bombshell to his left. “Nico, I’d like you to meet my assistant, JJ. She’ll be overseeing my orders for the next six months, traveling with you as needed as well, and reporting back to me. Consider anything she tells you to be coming straight from me. Understood?”
My gaze slid her way and took in those baby blues again before letting my eyes dip down to her perfect pink lips. Down some more to the subtle curve of her ample breasts in her conservative blouse. I wondered what kind of bra she was hiding under there. Was she a lacy kind of girl? Satin? Simple cotton? Either way, I had a feeling she’d go for color. Racy red or vibrant purple. God, what I wouldn’t have given in that moment to know.
“Nico!” David boomed, yanking my attention back to him, his expression fierce like he knew my thoughts had been in the gutter with his hot assistant.
I lifted a brow in question.
He shoved back his chair to stand, towering over everyone at the table. “One more thing I forgot to mention...” He leaned forward so our faces were mere inches apart. “JJ? She’s my daughter.”