Chapter 20. Haley
Haley
No. No. No. The last thing I wanted was an up close and visual reminder of last weekend.
After Ace’s heartfelt apology, I’d managed to put aside the past for one night of pleasure, one night to live out my fantasy, and now I needed to move on.
Ace was here for the job, and then he’d go back to LA.
Even if he stayed, I wasn’t ready for more.
There was no way I was opening myself up to be abandoned all over again.
But for some reason, every time I looked at him, all I could think about was his hands on my body and his lips on every part of my skin.
I heard the zip of the suit bag and the rustle of clothing, realizing as I tried to focus on the bare wall and the closed door that I could see Ace’s reflection in a sliver of the mirror. I tried not to look, but the temptation was too great. I just wanted to see if what I remembered was true.
“Why do you keep a suit in your car?” I watched as he reached behind him and pulled his T-shirt off in one fluid, graceful movement.
The play of muscles under his skin was mesmerizing, each ripple accentuating his strength and agility.
I felt a flush of heat spread across my cheeks and I tried to focus on anything but the image in the mirror.
“Never know where I might end up,” he said. “When I worked in LA, I was in a suit more often than I was in jeans. Some celebs consider their bodyguards part of the entourage and think the way we look reflects on them.”
“Ah.” I swallowed hard when he turned slightly, giving me a view of his sculpted back and the intricate tattoo that curved over his left shoulder blade.
His hand went to his belt, and I closed my eyes and tried to remember all the reasons I’d decided one night was all I needed to get him out of my system.
When I heard his jeans drop, I willed my eyes to stay closed, but only seconds later they opened, giving me a full-frontal view of Ace in his boxers.
Damn. I hadn’t had much of an opportunity to ogle when we were having crazy sex all over his hotel room.
He was chiseled like a Greek god, but not pumped and waxed like the guys at my gym.
Ace was all taut, lean muscle, his body almost vibrating with raw power.
My gaze dropped to his sculpted six-pack abs and the trail of dark hair leading down to the waistband of his briefs and beyond.
“Any time you’re done looking…” His voice pulled me out of my lust-filled haze, and I blushed, willing the ground to swallow me up. Ace raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes.
“Sorry. I just…” I trailed off, mentally chastising myself for apologizing. I’d seen men in their boxers before. Hell, I’d seen him naked. There was no reason why I should be blushing or why I should feel this desperate need to run away. “I’m worried about the time.”
“I’ll be quick.” He pulled on his dress pants, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. Crisis averted. Temptation gone. Barely. From the bulge beneath his fly, it seemed he liked being looked at as much as I’d enjoyed looking.
I stared at the floor, counting the tiles by my feet. “I never asked you about your tattoo.”
“Matt and I got them before we deployed,” he said.
“They matched—his on the right and mine on the left. Kinda feels unbalanced now that he’s gone.
” His smile faded and I felt my heart squeeze the way it did whenever Matt’s name came up.
I hadn’t really thought through that aspect of having Ace in my life again.
I wanted to offer some words of comfort, but the vulnerability he’d shown me felt fragile, like a thread that could easily be broken.
When I looked up again, Ace had put on his shirt and jacket and his expression had shifted, a shadow passing over his face as he fastened the buttons with a sense of finality.
“How do I look?” He struck a pose in front of the lockers.
“You look…” Handsome. Gorgeous. Hot. “Fine.”
“Just fine?” Ace repeated, a playful glint in his eyes.
He knew he looked more than fine; he looked breathtaking.
His shirt hugged his toned frame perfectly, emphasizing the definition of his muscles, and his jacket added a touch of sophistication to his rugged appearance.
He looked every bit the part of the charming and capable bodyguard boyfriend.
“You know you look impressive,” I said. “And that’s all you’ll get. I don’t want to inflate your already giant ego.”
I watched him in the mirror as he came up behind me and slid one arm around my waist, his hand pressed firmly against my belly. He brushed my hair back and pressed a kiss to the sensitive dip between my neck and my shoulder blade. “That’s not the only giant thing—”
“Ace!” I knew I should push him away. I had less than a minute to get to the bar. But we looked so good together—him in his suit with his arm around my waist, and me in my sparkly dress, my head tipped to the side as he feathered kisses along the column of my throat.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. I don’t want to share you,” he whispered in my ear. “Your hot-girl vibe is definitely working.”
“Ace… we can’t. Not again.” My voice came out in a throaty whisper as desire curled through my body and settled between my legs.
“We can.” He pulled me tight against him and I could feel the ridge of his erection against my ass. “Last weekend was—”
“It was great,” I said, cutting him off.
“Really great. We’ve always had chemistry, and we had a great night, but that doesn’t mean everything’s okay now.
You left me, Ace. Just like everyone leaves me.
And I’m not just talking about four years ago…
I’m talking about high school, when you were so cold with me.
I felt like I’d lost my best friend, and it hurt even more because I’d always thought we’d be together.
I never realized that you didn’t feel the same way or that I was the last person you’d want to be with.
And now, here we are still carrying that baggage.
I can handle a hookup but I can’t risk getting close to you. ”
I felt him shudder behind me and a maelstrom of emotions ran quickly over his face. “You’ve got it wrong. That wasn’t how I—”
“Haley! Where the fuck are you?” Ryan’s shout echoed from the hallway, and I pulled away, grateful for the chance to put some distance between us.
Ace escorted me out of the changing room, pausing at the door to check the hallway before he let me walk through.
“We’ve got a couple of Cubs here tonight,” Ryan said when I tapped in at the bar.
“Their drinks should be ready. I expect a little gratitude. I could have given that section to Cheryl before she left, but I saved it for you.” He touched his cheek, expecting a kiss, and my mouth soured.
After it became clear that management wasn’t going to do anything more than give him a slap on the wrist for his bad behavior, he’d become even more bold.
Ace made a warning sound, low in his throat, and I could feel his tension rising as he observed the interaction. Like Matt, his protective instincts had always been close to the surface. Without a word, he stepped slightly closer, subtly positioning himself between Ryan and me.
I could see things going bad very quickly, so I blew Ryan a kiss and turned away, weaving through the colorful chairs and couches to the service bar.
Ace took a seat at the end of the bar where he had a good view of the entire rooftop, and for the next hour he watched and sipped his soda while I mingled with customers and served drinks.
By ten o’clock the bar was heaving. Ryan had called in two more servers, one of whom took over for me when I went on stage.
I felt the familiar drumroll of my heart, the adrenaline rush that always hit the moment I picked up my guitar.
I started with a cover of Radiohead’s “Fake Plastic Trees” and then followed it with some of my best upbeat covers, drawing in the energy of the Friday-night crowd.
I was hyperaware of Ace watching me from the bar, the smile on his lips, the slight nod of his head.
I ended with my cover of Vance Joy’s “This Mess Is Mine,” a song about the messiness of relationships and what they mean. Ace’s eyes never left mine.
“You killed it up there.” Ryan put a hand around my waist and kissed my cheek. “Lots of happy, thirsty customers. That’s what I like to see.”
When I returned to the bar, Ace was deep in conversation with a dark-haired man in his late thirties, dressed in a T-shirt and blazer. He immediately stopped talking and introduced me to Stefan Foucault, an A&R executive with Atlantic Records.
For a long moment, I couldn’t breathe. Artists and Repertoire, A&R for short, was the division of a record label responsible for scouting new talent.
“Your cover of ‘Fake Plastic Trees’ was exceptional,” Stefan said. “I felt like I was rediscovering the lyrics as if hearing them for the first time. You’ve got one hell of a voice and an incredible stage presence. Where can I hear more?”
I couldn’t have smiled any wider. “I’ve uploaded all my tracks online.” I handed him one of the cards Aditi had designed for me. She had managed to capture the essence of my musical style with a bold font and a simple elegant colorful design.
“Do you have any original music?” Stefan asked.
“I’ve written and arranged a few songs, but I never thought they were good enough to upload.”
Stefan handed me his card. “If you do get the courage to put them out there, let me know and I’ll have a listen.
I think you’ve got real talent, but what’s missing from your music is that raw emotion and personal connection that can transform a song into an unforgettable, emotionally charged performance.
The difference between a good cover and a great one is the ability to connect with the emotions of the song, and that’s not easy to do.
I feel like you’re holding back, keeping all that emotion contained like a dam holds back water.
But if you were to sing your own music, give us your story, your raw emotion, let it go and really feel the music, I think the full power of your voice will blow everyone away, and I would sign you in a heartbeat. ”
I managed to stammer out a thank-you and didn’t embarrass myself in the next few minutes as we chatted about music and the state of the industry. I was stunned, shocked, disappointed, and elated at the same time. He liked me but wasn’t going to sign me. He saw my potential and wanted more.
“Thanks for coming.” Ace stood and shook his hand after Stefan indicated he had to leave.
“Anything for Jessica.” Stefan smiled. “Tell her I’ll see her at next year’s Academy Awards, and this time I expect to see her with a gold statue in her hand. I’ve heard good things about Heartfelt . The early buzz is that she’s going to be an Oscar contender.”
“I’ll pass the message along.”
I waited until Stefan was out of earshot before I grabbed Ace’s arm. “You know him?”
Ace shrugged. “I know someone who knows him.”
“And you asked him to come here? To see me?” My voice rose to a squeak. “And he came?”
“I called in a favor,” Ace said. “It’s no big deal.”
“You got an executive from Atlantic Records to come out to Bin 46 with almost zero notice to listen to me sing, and you think it’s no big deal.” My eyes were wet. I had to blink to clear them. “Ace… That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“You’re an amazing singer, bug. I want everyone to know it.”
I threw my arms around him and gave him a hug. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
“For the love of…” Ryan tapped me on the shoulder. “Vibes. Bad. No one wants to see displays of affection from a girl they fantasize about taking home for the night.”
“My shift is over,” I retorted. “I can hug who I like.”
Ryan nodded toward the door. “What did Stefan Foucault want with you? He’s never been here before, although he’s a South Side boy, born and bred. If he’s scouting for talent, I might change up the entertainment.”
I held up Stefan’s card. “He liked my music. He wants to hear more.”
“Hmmm.” Ryan studied the card. “How about we put you on the regular rotation starting next month? Weekdays to start. I’ll play with the schedule and send you some dates.”
My brain almost couldn’t process what was happening. I’d met Stefan Foucault, and he liked my voice. I’d just been offered a regular gig at a high-end Chicago bar. And Ace had made it all happen. “Yes, but only if you’re paying me. I’m not working the floor.”
“Done.” Ryan nodded. “Just you, though. Lose the boyfriend and the suits.”
Puzzled, I frowned. “What suits?”
“The dude in the hall and the one in the bar.” He gestured to a man in a suit standing near the doorway.
“My security guards noticed them hanging around, and they said they’d been hired to keep an eye on you.
Not sure if that’s because you’re in trouble or you’re playing at being a big star, but they were killing the vibe. ”
I glanced over at Ace, and he whispered in my ear, “I had Jordan send them to make sure you were safe.”
A warm, squishy feeling spread across my chest, and I clasped Ace’s hand. “I could give up the suits,” I said to Ryan. “But this one isn’t going anywhere.”