CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I know how out of touch this is going to sound.” I lean in across the table, pushing aside two empty glasses. His glasses which once contained whiskey. He’s on his third already, and I don’t think we’ve been at this bar for more than twenty minutes.
He’s good and determined to drink himself into a stupor tonight.
And here I am, feeling like maybe I should’ve gone home. He’s not in any mood for company even though he’s insisted that he wants to be with me.
He looks at me finally, having stared down into his glass ever since our server left it for him. Poor thing. It was pretty obvious she wanted to catch his eye, to flirt a little, but he’s not in the mood.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why you think tonight was such a bad performance.”
He rolls his eyes.
“I really don’t,” I add. “You sounded great to me! The audience was thrilled to pieces. They had nothing but good things to say afterward.”
“Were we at the same club? Because from where I sat, the audience had zero energy. One of them straight-up walked out, Kitty.”
“So what? It was just one person, and she was being a total bitch about it. And let me tell you, I never use that word, but I think she qualifies. I hope she’s embarrassed by how rude she was.”
“You’re really too much.” He snorts. “You live in this world where people are actually nice to each other. Where they respect each other.”
“Excuse me, but that is the world I live in. Where people are supposed to respect each other. Some people are going to be jerks. It is what it is. I stopped reading my reviews a long time ago because I knew they would never do me any good. They would only make me question myself. Believe me, I know how nasty people can be. But that doesn’t mean all people are like that, and it doesn’t mean your entire performance was a waste because one person was an idiot. ”
“Unless you’ve been walked out on, you don’t know what I’m talking about.” He swirls the whiskey in his glass, snickering. “Trust me, that writer was paying attention. He’ll write about that part.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they were paying attention to how that situation reflected a lot more on the person who did the walking out than it did on you.
You didn’t even let it faze you. It wasn’t your fault!
And it doesn’t erase all the people who were clapping and cheering for you by the time the night was over. ”
“You’d be surprised what some people remember. That writer’s going to remember that, and he’s going to mention it in his article. I just know he will. Another example of how I’ll never escape the past.”
I probably shouldn’t say this. It’s not what he wants to hear right now. At the same time, I’m not sitting here at yet another bar just so I can bolster his spirits. I would do that for Hayley. I might even do it for Matt since he’s come through for me more than once.
But Dustin? Aside from some hot making out and the inspiration for my current project, he hasn’t given me anything yet that could make up for this.
“I know we don’t know each other very well, and I know that until I met you on Friday, I was just another fan. But I feel like somebody has to tell you this.”
“I can hardly wait.”
Oh, now, he’s really going to get it.
“If it wasn’t for the past, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, it is. You might want to say good-bye to it, you might want to pretend it didn’t happen, and I completely understand and respect that.
But it’s disingenuous to pretend you don’t benefit from people recognizing your name.
Because if you were just some guy with some random name nobody had ever heard of, do you think that filthy club would’ve been packed tonight? ”
“Please. That was nothing. I could hand some flyers around the neighborhood and get that many people to come and see me play.”
“You really think so? I guess we’ll never know, will we? Because the past did happen, and you were an international superstar. And you still have enough name recognition to get gigs like the one you had tonight and for music writers to come out and see you play.”
“One.” He holds up a single finger. “Todd reached out to half a dozen, and only one showed up. He actually seemed shocked when he said I sounded good. Like he hadn’t expected me to.”
“Where is this Todd anyway? It seems like your agent would be at your performances, especially when they’re supposed to be so important to you. Tonight was supposed to be a big deal, so why wasn’t he there?”
“I’m not his only client. Not all of us can get a big deal right out of the gate and earn our agents a lot of money.
He’s gotta hustle, just like everybody else.
” He downs his drink and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth while I tell myself that little comment about a big deal wasn’t about me—even though I think it was.
“I don’t even command the entire attention of a manager anymore. ”
This isn’t what I came out for at the last minute on a Monday night.
To think, I figured tonight would be exciting and adventurous.
Instead, I’ve been sitting here, watching him throw a pity party.
I’ve thrown enough of those for myself to know he’s not about to listen to anything I have to say, any more than I do when Hayley tries to cheer me up.
Which is why I stand up and grab my purse. “If you’re going to be this way, I’m going home. I was having a perfectly fine evening before this happened. I’m not going to sit here and let you take your frustration out on me. That’s not what I’m here for.”
I’m halfway to the door before he gets up to stop me. “Kitty, I’m sorry.”
“I really don’t want to hear it right now.” I’m so furious and so disgusted that I don’t care what he has to say.
The night air is cool on my heated cheeks, and I’m thankful for it. It clears my head a little.
Dustin catches up to me halfway down the block. It’s amazing he can move as quickly as he does after downing three drinks like they were nothing more than water. “Please, Kitty, I’m sorry. I screwed up.”
“Yeah, you did.” I turn on him, and there must be something in my face that convinces him how serious I am because he falls back a few steps, like he’s surprised.
“I’m not one of those people who’s going to take whatever you dish out just because you are who you are.
You know what I mean? I thought you would know better than that by now.
I’m not going to sit by and nod and say, Yes, Dustin.
No, Dustin. Because I don’t want anything out of you.
I thought we were supposed to be getting together for a good time tonight, but here we are.
Do you want to be with me right now or not? ”
“I do.”
“You’re not acting like it.”
He folds his hands behind his back, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out.
“You’re right again. I keep doing all the wrong things.
I’m so used to things going a certain way.
I can be just as moody and depressing and ignorant as I feel like being, and it doesn’t matter because the girl I’m with will put up with anything just as long as she can take a few selfies with me and get a free meal or drinks or a night in my hotel room out of it. ”
I can’t help it. My skin crawls a little bit at the hotel room part. Just how many of these women have there been? Not that it’s any of my business. It’s just research; that’s all.
Yeah, right. That’s the ticket. Research.
“I’m not one of those girls!” Okay, maybe that shouldn’t have come out so loud. Crap. I hope the people on the other side of the street who have stopped to look don’t recognize him. I don’t want to be the girl yelling at a onetime international superstar in the middle of the street.
“I know. And the fact that you’re still standing here, talking to me, is more than I deserve.
” He runs his fingers through his hair until it stands almost straight up and then lets out a frustrated growl.
“This is what always ends up happening. I meet somebody worthwhile, somebody like you, and I think, Great. Finally, a real person. Somebody with, you know, an actual personality and actual interests. Not to mention, you’re smart and successful. You’re, like, perfect.”
I don’t know if I would go that far, though the love-struck teenager still living in some corner of my brain screams and faints.
“Do you really want to be with me right now or not?” I ask again.
“Yes. I mean that. More than anything else.” He comes closer, reaching for my hand. His fingertips dance over mine, waking up the nerves and making them sizzle. “And I’m starting to think I need you in my life more than I ever knew before now.”
Dang it. The screaming teenager’s getting louder, making it difficult for me to think clearly.
And I need to think clearly now, especially when his eyes stare so deeply into mine that I’m afraid I’ll drown.
They are absolutely supernatural, and it’s scary how much I love looking into them.
I always did—only, back in the day, I was staring at a picture.
I had no idea how they looked in a certain light, how much warmth could come from them.
I finally let him take my hand, but I won’t give in that easily. “I really want to get to know you better.”
“You sure about that? I haven’t given you any reason to want to.”
“I have good instincts about people—most of the time. And I can tell you’re a good person. This has nothing to do with who you used to be back in the day. When you’re performing, you connect with people. And they can feel that; they can sense it. It takes a special sort of person to do that.”
He slightly shakes his head. “How do you do it?” It comes out almost as a whisper.
“Do what?”