17. Coop
COOP
Ican’t believe Nese dragged me out shopping again. At least we’re not looking at clothes. As long as she continues to remain mum about last night—and I keep the memory shoved away like it never happened—things will be fine.
But it did happen…
She wheels over a suitcase. “What do you think of this one?”
My stomach flips at how cute she looks, which I bury. Instead, I shrug. “Seems great to me. It’s black and holds clothes. Let’s get it.” And be done.
She picks up the tag, which says Samsonite. “What am I thinking? Luke told me ages ago that Tumi wants to partner with UC.” She smiles widely at me. “We need to go to the nearest Tumi shop.” Abandoning the suitcase, she marches toward the exit.
Trailing behind her, I click my key fob to unlock the Range Rover’s doors. I don’t have the desire to open hers—not after how last night ended. While I slip into the driver’s seat, she plugs the next store into the GPS, which indicates it’ll take us forty-five minutes to get there.
“Seriously? I’m fine with the Samsonites back there.”
“As your stylist, I need to make sure all parts of your wardrobe, including where you keep it, are fashionable and up to date. Tumi is the best luggage out there, and it has the name recognition you deserve. This is perfect.” She puts her finger up in the air.
“I’m going to reach out to them to make sure everything’s set up. ” She punches keys on her phone.
I put the Range Rover into gear and start the long trek for my new luggage. Meditation, don’t fail me now.
After a few minutes, she hangs up. “You’ll be happy to know that Tumi is excited for this collaboration. They’re setting up a photoshoot as we speak.” She beams at me.
My right hand twirls the hoop earring I put in this morning. The one Darren gave me all those years ago. “I’m sure no one will recognize me.”
“Pshaw!” She rolls her wrist. “You’ll be surprised. I bet the guy from the bathing suit store will be the first in line to purchase luggage like it.”
I sigh. “He’s only one person. I don’t want to make a big spectacle out of this. I would like to buy whatever I still need and be done with it.” As if on cue, it starts raining.
We ride in silence, with the windshield wipers pretending to be the metronome.
Finally, we reach the Tumi store and I put the SUV in park. At least the rain has tapered off to a miserable drizzle. I should reduce the stress here, not exacerbate it. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but don’t you think this is overkill? It’s only luggage.”
“You need to make a statement,” she replies.
Practice gratitude, Coop. Nese is doing her job, worked with Luke and the sponsor, and I didn’t have to lift a finger. “Fine. You win. Let’s get this spectacular luggage.” I exit the vehicle.
Nese scurries ahead of me and opens the door before I’m able to reach it.
Following her, we proceed from one piece to the next.
My only contribution is to tell her I prefer ones in black, to which she says, “Of course.” Soon, she and the salesclerk have surrounded me with several options, and I choose a couple of the larger ones, with a carry-on.
Nese nods her approval and turns to the clerk.
In no time, five matching pieces surround me.
“Oh,” the clerk says. “I have just the thing to complete the look. Come with me.”
Sensing I’m not required for this discussion, I sit in a chair while the ladies traipse around the store. Idly, I check out the price tag for the large piece, then flip it over. Why can’t I simply buy these and be done? I tap my foot in time with “Refocused Destiny.”
Nese returns holding a black leather backpack. “Put this over your shoulder. I want to see how it looks.”
“I don’t need a backpack. I’ve lasted this long on tour without one.”
“You never know,” she replies. “Haven’t you ever wished you had the itinerary for your tour and not wanted to search your phone for it?
How about a set list? I’m sure putting folded up papers in your back pocket gets old.
If you get this, all those problems would be fixed.
” For good measure, she snaps her fingers.
It can be a hassle juggling all the paperwork Luke gives us. “I suppose it makes sense.” I stand and put the strap over my shoulder. It’s comfortable. “How does it look?”
Nese replies, “It’s a great proportion on you. Turn around to show me the full picture.”
Used to her taking charge in the dressing rooms, I do as I’m told. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the backpack might be a good idea.”
“Of course it is!” She lifts the backpack and lets it return to its resting position over my back. “Let’s add this to the set.”
“I love it when couples come in here together,” the clerk says. “You two are really getting a feeling for how you’re going to use the Tumi pieces.”
“We’re not a couple,” I reply without hesitation. Even though we did sleep together last night.
For her part, Nese shoves her thumb at me. “You think we’re a couple?” She throws her head back and laughs.
She doesn’t have to be so elated by the mischaracterization.
The clerk stammers, “Oh, sorry. It’s just you two bicker like people who’ve been together for a long time.”
Were we bickering? I glance at Nese, who’s pierced eyebrow is raised. Deciding to put the clerk at ease, I say, “She’s my stylist. I can see how our conversation could be misconstrued. She wants me to buy all this trendy stuff, and I would like to be done.”
The clerk turns to Nese. “Seems as if you have your hands full.”
“You have no idea,” Nese commiserates. “Now, when will the photographer be here?”
“Let me check.” The clerk walks to the counter.
“Seriously?” I slide my sunglasses to the top of my head.
“I’m getting you a great deal here.” She pats my stomach. “You’re given all this luggage for free and you get publicity out of it. A win-win.”
I toss her hand away. “Have you ever thought I prefer being in the background? I enjoy playing guitar and then letting Bennett or Río take center stage.”
“Maybe it’s your time to shine? Those guys are otherwise occupied by Jenna and Hayden now. Think they’re motivated to step back a little?”
Does she have a point? Have I come to rely on them being the public face of UC? Am I being selfish in assuming they’d always come forward? I don’t dislike the spotlight, per se, it’s that I’m never being sought after like they are. Or, rather, seeking it out.
With a slow cadence, I agree, “I never considered this.”
“What harm will one little photoshoot do? Luggage is a luxury item, so I’m sure your photo won’t appear in Ratatat magazine or anything. Plus, you’re getting a sweet set of luggage the rest of UC will envy.”
Her enthusiasm is hard to ignore. “I seriously doubt 007 or Tris will even notice.”
She counters, “Have you met Tris?”
She has a point.
Our conversation is interrupted when the salesclerk returns. “I’m so sorry. We were under the impression our photographer could do it today, but it seems he has a previous appointment. Would you mind terribly coming back tomorrow for the photoshoot?”
I offer the woman a smile. “No worries. Of course I can return.” I turn to Nese. “We still have to buy a few more things for my wardrobe anyway.”
“That’s true,” Nese responds. “I want to get you a couple of belts, a watch, as well as some more shirts and pants. You’re good in the jeans, sweats, and shoe departments.”
“You heard the boss. I’ll be back tomorrow.” We wave at the clerk and take the exit.
I’m in a much better frame of mind upon leaving the store than when I entered. It feels as if Nese and I reached some sort of truce. “Let’s call it a day, alright? Maybe we could do something fun tonight instead of shopping or going out to eat.”
“Something fun?” She stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps we could check out the planetarium? I heard they had a new show featuring the music of Ozzy Martinez.” I’d love to see it.
“Snore-fest,” she pronounces.
I rear back. “It’s not. Ozzy is one of the hottest musicians on the Latin charts.”
She yawns, waving her hand in front of her mouth. “By fun, I thought you were going to suggest we go out clubbing, not pay for a nap.”
This is the difference between us. She’s in the club stage, while I do that every damn night on tour and want a change of pace.
“You know what? Forget it.” I hit the key fob for my car. “Why don’t you go out clubbing tonight. I haven’t been able to start my new book yet.”
“Sounds good to me.”
She marches over to her side of the SUV, and I don’t bother trying to help her. Her door opens as I climb into my seat.
“Ah!”
I swivel in time to see her land, hard, on the ground, wincing. Shit. “Are you okay?” I race around the front of the Range Rover. She’s leaning heavily on the door, her face etched in pain. “What happened?”
“I misjudged the step up,” she pants. “Because it was wet”—she explains—“my foot slipped off the edge.” She’s now breathing directly into the seat. “Damn expensive SUV should come with a ladder, for fuck’s sake.”
I stare at my hands, uncertain what to do. Man up, Coop! I place one hand on her back and rub. “Let me help you into the Rover.”
She stiffens. “I can do it.”
“You’re obviously in pain. Let me help you.”
We remain in a standoff until she places her injured foot on the ledge of the SUV and pushes off with her good one, ending in the passenger side. “Told you.”
She’d be convincing but for the fact her body is contorted in pain. I’m not going to ask her how much it took out of her pride to climb into the Range Rover. Instead, I let her get situated.
After her seatbelt is clicked, I ask, “All clear?” Not going to add insult to injury by closing the door on her fingers.
In a reedy voice, she replies, “Yup.”
With her door closed, I walk behind the vehicle and collect my thoughts. She’s going to need ice and to elevate it. Luckily, I have all the paraphernalia at the house to treat her injury. I get into the SUV. “Let’s tend to your ankle at home.”