2 A.M. — November 22, 1996 #4
Claudia looked back inside, giving Mike a wistful smile. “That sounds like the perfect sort of life.”
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
Sienna positioned herself to be kiss-ready while also keeping an eye on Claudia and Mike, who were curled up on an oversized armchair in the corner.
“Seven! Six! Five!”
“They look cozy,” she told her husband, gesturing with her head.
“Four! Three! Two!”
She watched as his expression hardened.
“One! Happy New Year!!!”
Her heart sank right down to her sore feet as Zane gave her a sloppy, lackluster kiss to ring in the new year. When he pulled back, his gaze landed back on his best friend and Claudia, who were locked in a passionate ‘who cares who sees?’ embrace. He narrowed his eyes, then had a pull on his beer.
“Happy new year, darling,” Sienna said, hoping to get his attention back.
Giving her a distracted nod, he said, “Yeah, you too, babe.”
Sienna glanced over at Kitty (who had been a little curt with her for the last hour for obvious reasons).
She could tell by her friend’s face that Kitty had seen the whole thing.
A deep sense of doom came over Sienna and she turned her gaze to the floor, wishing everyone would leave.
Suddenly exhausted, she wanted to crawl into bed in her flannel pajamas.
She now had the answer to the question that had been on her mind for months.
Her distracted husband had feelings for another woman.
The pain of it cut deep into her soul, and she knew she’d never forget the look of yearning in his eyes.
She stood, feeling nauseous and powerless.
The band would never fire her just because Sienna felt insecure.
Asking would humiliate her. And the answer would be no, anyway.
All she could do was endear herself to Claudia in the hope that earning her loyalty would be enough for the young woman to resist her husband’s charm.
That, and wait for her relationship with Mike to run its course so she’d get the boot.
NEW YEARS DAY 1990
ZANE
The difference between being hungover at twenty-two and at forty-two is like the difference between singing a little off-key versus pissing your pants on stage.
One leaves a far bigger impression. When Zane finally peeled his eyeballs from their corresponding lids, he was filled with regret.
He was an idiot who shouldn’t have gone so hard last night but did anyway, and he was about to spend the first day of a brand-new decade feeling like he’d be better off dead.
He hadn’t planned to get that drunk. He meant to drink casually, politely, like a responsible adult who’d wake early to cook his wife a nice breakfast. But then the ball dropped, and he saw his best friend kissing and groping Claudia right there in his living room.
Instant rage, followed by one of the most destructive thoughts known to man: Fuck it. Might as well get wasted.
And so, he did. And now it was closing in on eleven and he was still lying face down in bed, arms and legs spread out.
He rolled over with a grunt. He was too old to sleep on his stomach without his back paying for it.
Too old to drink. And probably too old to be bringing another child into the world.
His own parents were twenty and twenty-one when he was born, whereas he’d be sixty when this baby graduated high school.
The thought made him feel sweaty and cold at the same time.
He forced himself to stand, then made it to the shower, where he let the cool water revive him for a full ten minutes before he even dared lifting his arms to shampoo his hair.
By the time he found Sienna, she was in the kitchen in front of the stove.
They’d given Valerie the day off, so they had the house to themselves for another few hours before they picked up the kids.
Sienna offered him a tight smile—the one that said she didn’t want to fight but she also had things on her mind to fight about. “Good morning.”
He strolled over to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Morning, beautiful.”
She recoiled. “Oh, wow, the whiskey is coming out of your pores today.”
“And here I showered for an extra-long time in hopes of smelling fresh.” He grabbed the biggest mug in the cupboard. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. My nose is extra sensitive these days.”
He poured himself a coffee, then watched while Sienna stirred what looked like a Bolognese sauce, heavy on the ground meat. “What are you making?”
“If you can believe it, I have a craving for Sloppy Joes.”
He laughed. “No, I can’t believe it.”
“Me either, but it’s all I want right now. I even found a can of mushrooms at the back of the shelf.”
“You hate canned mushrooms.”
“Not today, I don’t.”
“The kids will be devastated that they missed this.”
“I’ll save some for them,” she answered. “Or, if I eat the entire pot, we’ll have to agree this never happened.”
“I promise not to rat you out, even under threat of torture.”
“Good.” Sienna grabbed a bag of buns from the pantry.
Zane slid onto a stool at the island and took another long gulp of coffee.
Without turning to him, Sienna said, “So, that was quite the party.”
“It was, thanks to you.”
After a long pause, she said, “Claudia seems terrific.”
“Yeah, she’s great,” Zane answered, feeling a pang of something he couldn’t put his finger on. Was it disappointment? Anger? Maybe it was heartburn, and he should take one of Sienna’s Tums.
“Can you believe her and Mike going to town in front of everyone?”
“Yeah, that was … a lot. Typical Mike.”
“You seemed upset about it,” she said, placing the can under the arm of the electric can opener and turning it on. When it finished, she took it over to the sink to drain the mushrooms. “Want to tell me what that’s about?”
No, he did not. How do you tell your wife you felt jealous seeing your best friend with another woman? You don’t. “I wasn’t upset.”
“Yes, you were. I saw the look on your face. Then you went straight to doing shots with Steve.”
Oh. Christ, this was the problem with marrying a smart woman. They don’t miss a thing, even when it would be best for all involved if they did. Zane sighed, trying to ignore the thud of his brain against his skull. “To be honest, I was pissed at Mike about it.”
Narrowing her eyes, Sienna said, “Why? This is what he does. You already know that.”
“He wasn’t supposed to do that with her, which was made very clear to the guys when she was hired.”
“Apparently he forgot.”
“Apparently he doesn’t care,” Zane answered, rubbing his temples with both hands.
“Well, who knows? Maybe it’ll work out between them, and she won’t quit.”
Zane scoffed at the thought. “And maybe I’ll be awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics.”
“You’re not giving Mike much credit.”
“Sienna, Mike has never had a relationship that lasted longer than three months. It’s safe to assume this whole thing is gonna go sour.”
Walking over to the wall oven, Sienna turned it on. “So, you’ll hire some new back-up singer. You said you had lots of great possibilities at the auditions.”
“I don’t want to hire some new back-up singer.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Why not?”
What he couldn’t say was that he needed Claudia because he’d flipped through her notebook and it turned out he had been right about her—she was a hell of a songwriter.
After years without a song in the top ten, the band’s future (and Zane’s reputation) were on the line.
But Claudia could save them. And best of all, she would keep her mouth shut about it.
He knew it the moment he met her. Starstruck and insecure, she’d happily let him lift her work without needing the credit.
“Her interpretation of our stuff is totally unique. She brings something fresh and exciting to the table—something that’s been missing for a long time. ”
He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. When they first met, Zane said that exact same thing about her. Sweetheart, I can’t imagine a future without you. You’re what’s been missing in my life for a long time.
Sienna blinked hard a few times. “Oh. I didn’t realize she was so very special.”
“Come on, it’s not like that, babe.”
“It’s not?”
“Of course not. I’m not attracted to her or something. It’s purely a creative thing.” This was mostly true, but there were moments when a flash of her naked would cross through his mind. It wasn’t a big deal though. He did that with nearly every woman to whom he wasn’t related.
“Right,” she answered, sounding sarcastic. “Purely creative.”
“Yes … you wouldn’t understand.” Nope, that was the wrong thing to say. Her mouth dropped open and that fight he knew she didn’t want to have was about to happen. He held his hands up in surrender. “That’s not what I meant. Shit, I’m super hungover. Let me start again. You know your friend, Paul?”
Paul was an interior designer who had the same taste in men that she did. Sienna nodded.
“You two can talk for hours about fabrics and colors and textures and styles, and none of it makes any sense to me, but you’re all lit up when you’re talking with him.”
“But Claudia’s not a lesbian, so it’s not the same thing at all, is it?”
“Oh, God, babe, Claudia is not my type,” he said, standing up and walking over to her.
“Look at her, then look at you. You’re every man’s dream, including mine, even after all these years.
And she’s … a normal-looking person. I really do think of her as a sister.
She’s the little sister I never had, but that I share an interest in making music with.
” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, feeling how stiff she was.
“You’re my girl. And you’ve got nothing to worry about because she doesn’t hold a candle to you. ”
She gave her husband a skeptical look. “I don’t think you’ll ever fully appreciate what it’s like to be married to someone like you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”