A Beautiful Rock (3 page)

“So? How did it go?” Sandra asks when lunch time rolls around.

The moment I got into work
, I was called into a meeting with a new client and haven’t had the chance to get the interview recording to her yet.

“It was fi
ne. Everything was fine,” I say. “I’ll email you the voice recording from my phone before the day is through.” I hand her the folder she gave me that contained a brief biography and the interview questions. “Although, you could have included a photo in that. I made bit of a fool of myself when I walked up to him and asked if he knew where I could find Marcus Bailey.”

Her hand covers her mouth as she laughs. “You didn’t? Oh my god! That’s hilarious. What did he say? Was he pissed?”

“No. He just laughed and said to follow him. I thought he was just some guy, taking me to meet Marcus, but then he sat down and announced he was Marcus, and I spent the rest of the interview with my face burning with embarrassment.”

“Well… I’m sorry you were embarrassed. But thank you for doing that for me. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s ok. I just don’t want to do that again. So no more banging rock stars unless you’re willing to interview them again – ok?”

She lau
ghs. “Agreed. My knees shall stay firmly pressed together from this moment on.”

I pick up my bag, ready to go out for some fresh air and something to eat.

“What did you think?”

I pause and look at her. “Of what?”

“Of him. He’s pretty easy on the eyes right? Did he um… try anything with you?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t think much at all. And no. He didn’t try anything.” I touch her shoulder gently as I speak. I know that technically, he did try something when he asked me out to dinner. But she doesn’t need to know that.

I doubt I’ll ever have reason to cross paths with Marcus Bailey ever again.

I’ve just spent an entire day feeling distracted after my interaction with Lisa. I like her. I don’t know if it’s just because she didn’t know who I was or if it’s just her. She seemed so… genuine. No one speaks to me the way she did. She was… refreshing.

In my dressing room, I pull out a pad of paper and a pen and scrawl a note before calling out to my assistant, Karen.

She appears in the doorway, her greying eyebrows raised in question as she looks at me over the rim of her glasses. I purposely hired a woman who was old enough to be my mother. She’s the one who keeps my life organised. I didn’t want her to be a distraction to me at all.

“Send this to Voyeur Magazine, care of Lisa Russell. Include two tickets for the show this Saturday and VIP passes,” I say as I fold the piece of paper and hand it to her.

“Sure,” she says with a smile, taking the folded note from between my fingers. “Are there any particular seats you’d like me to give her?”

“Front, centre.”

“Of course.” She knows what this is about. It’s not the first time she’s sent one of these notes off for me. Although it has been a while since I’ve done it. But VIP passes and front and centre tickets to a show have always been a sure winner when I’m interested in a woman. And Lisa Russell is definitely a woman I’m interested in.

Marcus Bailey has been connected with more women than the tabloids can even count. A quick search on Google shows image after image of him with his arm wrapped around various women. Very rarely do I see him pictured with the same woman twice.

As I scroll through the images I do see one woman who pops up more often.
She is a tiny blonde girl who looks a little similar to Sandra actually. There are photos of them together posing as well as photos of them with three other people. As I continue to look, I find images of her and Marcus singing on stage together. He has a lot more hair in these photos… they must be old as they’re showing him in a band called Matiari.

I don’t know why I’m spending my lunch break looking him up on my phone. I’m telling myself that it’s just because I should have looked him up earlier. But it’s more than that. He’s been on my mind since I met him. I feel stupid doing this. But I console myself with the thought that no one needs to know.

I enlarge a few of the photos of him when he was in the band. I have to say he seems a hell of a lot happier in the old band photos then he does in his new shots.  I wonder what made him leave…

One of the shots shows him singing at the blonde. She looks mortified and the caption with the photo has the word ‘scandal’ in it. I click and I’m taken to
YouTube - to a video with over 200 million views.

I click the play icon and an amateur video
filmed from within the audience loads on my screen, showing the band on stage.  At first there’s just a huge amount of screaming from the fans and then Marcus leans into the microphone.

“I’ll bet you guys are loving Naomi, right?” he calls out. The crowd all screams in agreement as he walks over to the blonde from the photos. She’s holding a violin at her
side. She looks confused but she smiles and waves then looks over her shoulder toward the drummer. I have a terrible feeling about this, and I’m really not sure I want to keep watching.

Marcus moves to stand right in front of her and leans toward her microphone. “Yeah. I love her too,” he says
, his voice calm but aggressive.

He returns to his microphone, leaving the blonde looking visibly shaken.
“Now, Naomi is a fan of Aiden Price.” The crowd screams at the mention of his name. Even I know who Aiden Price is. Marcus shakes his head. “No, he won’t be here tonight, but I get that a lot of you are probably fans as well. Actually, I am too. A while back, as a bit of a treat we did his song ‘I Recall’, but tonight, I’d like to do something a little different. I have a special song, just for Naomi. This one is called ‘Weighted’.”

I place my hand on my chest. “Oh you didn’t?” I say to no one in particular. I know this song. Aiden Price is one of the few modern artists that I actually listen to. His music is very raw and emotive. It isn’t that same
four-chord bullshit that dominates the charts.

‘Weighted’ is a
bout a relationship gone wrong - one where the singer can’t stand to even look at his lover any longer. It’s about a love that’s straddles that line and is turning into hate. I can’t imagine what this woman could have done to him to make him feel warranted by singing this. But I can’t watch anymore – he’s publicly humiliating that girl. She’s trying to act professional and play the song for the audience, but it is so obvious that when he sings ‘Cause you’re a bitch to be around’, that he’s directing it at her.

A sick feeling rises in my throat. I find the video far too confronting to continue watching.

I tap the screen to pause the video and shut down my phone’s browser. I wish I hadn’t looked him up now.

***

"This came for you while you were at lunch," the receptionist, Erin, informs me, handing me a white envelope as I re-enter the building.

“Thanks.” There's nothing on the envelope except for my name
, so I have no idea what's inside. I open it straight away, expecting it to be something work related. But it’s not.

I sigh audibly. Why couldn’t he just leave me be?

I watch Erin’s eyes grow wide as she sees me remove two tickets and VIP passes that clearly state ‘Marcus Bailey’ on them.

I open the note they come with. It simply reads –

Perhaps I am the exception to the rule…

Marcus

Keeping my expression neutral, I slip the note into my pocket and replace the tickets and passes inside the envelope. "Would you like these?" I say to Erin, holding the envelope out to her.

Her hand flies out to grab it, but hesitates. “You don’t want them? Are you sure? That show was sold out months ago. I am such a huge fan of his,” she gushes.

“Then they’re yours. Have a great time.”

“Oh wow. I will. Thank you so much.” She accepts the envelop
e from me and immediately spills out its contents and holds the passes against her chest. “Thank you!” she squeals, just before she reaches for her phone to make a call.

I smile and nod at her and mouth ‘you
’re welcome’ as I walk away. I can’t help but laugh as I overhear her hysterically telling a friend about the tickets. 

When I get back to my office, I read over the note again. So far he’s anything but the exception to the rule. He’s currently being incredibly cliché. Marcus Bailey is one very cocky man. I’ll bet he does this kind of thing with women all the time. Well, he won’t be winning over this one. I ball the note up tightly and drop it in the wastepaper basket under my desk before breaking into a grin. It would almost be worth going to his concert just to see the look on his face when he sees a couple of squealing eighteen year olds in those seats. It will serve him right for being so presumptuous.

My grin fades fast though. Men like Marcus can have any girl they want. He won’t feel affected for too long.

Saturday night has rolled around and I’m out on stage, going through my set. The lighting blackens the audience and I can’t see any faces. But I feel sure that Lisa will be here. I’m really keen to see her again as I haven’t stopped thinking about her all week.  It’s so unusual for me to feel like this, especially after only meeting her once.

I don’t know what it is. I may bang her and lose interest like I do with every other girl, and I may not… who knows? But I can’t get her out of my head. The way her cheeks flamed red with embarrassment whe
n she realised that she had asked
the
Marcus Bailey where to find himself, and then how she struggled to make eye contact with me through the rest of the interview. And those eyes of hers…wow…just…wow. I think I could look at them all day.

Her embarrassment
was just such a normal interaction. There was no bravado. There was no ambition. She was just a person. She made me feel like a regular person too. I’m craving more.

As usual, the crowd is screaming for me. They have been all night. Sometimes I wonder if I sung the wrong words if they’d even notice. The noise can be so deafening that
there are times when I can barely hear the music myself.

My final song is one called ‘Incredible’. I have purposely chosen this one last because I know that the spotlight is going to sweep over the first few rows of the audience and I’ll get to see her.

If I’ve played my cards right, she’ll think I’m singing this song for her. We’ll make eye contact and when she comes back stage we’ll be able to get to know each other a little better.

I figure if I can have just one night with her, I’ll find out if this is just some weird infatuation because she didn’t know who I am
, or maybe there’s actually something there. Or maybe, this is all a set up and she knew who I was all along…. It’s so hard to trust people. No one seems genuine to me anymore.

I do my normal thing and introduce the band members, thanking them all for playing for me tonight and then I launch into the song.

It’s me on guitar and the keyboardist, playing together as I sing.

Your eyes

Oh, they’re always shining

You make me feel things

Without even trying

You’re so beautiful

You make me want to stay

I know

When I flatter you, you’ll never believe me

I know

That in the mirror, you don’t see what I see

If I have to

I will tell you every day

Two backing singers join in as I start to sing the chorus. At this point, I’ve closed my eyes and I’m putting as much emotion into the words I’m singing as I can. I know that soon, I’ll be able to see her.

You’re incredible

In every way

I wouldn’t change a thing

Everything about you

Is heart stopping

I open my eyes, ready to sing the last line on my own. I look directly where I expect her to be as I repeat the last line.

Everything about you

Is heart stopping

But she’s not there. There are two young girls I’ve never even seen before. My fingers stumble slightly over the final cords of the song. Thankfully, I recover quickly and I don’t think that anyone notices.

Fuck. Why the hell didn’t she come?

***

“Come on Perry. Surely you have pissed on every tree in the neighbourhood by now. Consider your territory thoroughly marked,” I say to my golden retriever as I tug at his lead.

Every morning, we go through this same routine. I swear that if this dog pees any more, he will become so dehydrated that he’ll turn into a dusty husk and blow away on the next gust of wind.

I walk him so we both get some exercise, but this constant stopping doesn’t do much for either of our cardiovascular systems.

Giving his lead one last tug, he follows along beside me, panting happily as his tail swings gaily in the air as we walk the last twenty metres back to my house without further incident.

Well… not really. I stop dead in my tracks when I find none other than Marcus Bailey sitting on my front porch.

“What the hell? How did you find out where I live?”

“There are surprisingly very few ‘L. Russell’s in the directory and even fewer within commuting distance to the studio,” he replies.

“
Thanks for that Sherlock, you’ve just given me the perfect reason to become unlisted.”

Perry
, the traitor, is wagging his tail happily at Marcus and trying to run toward him. I grip the lead solidly at my side, but I’m struggling to maintain my balance against my big strong puppy.

Before I know it, Perry has slipped his collar and is bounding up my front steps to jump up on Marcus who seems only too pleased to pat him and give him all the attention he’s after.

“So, did you get my note?” he asks, looking up at me from the dog.

“I did.”

“You didn’t want to see my show?”

“No. I didn’t. I told you. I’m not interested.”

His blue eyes level on mine for a moment. He studies me, as if he’s trying to read whether I’m telling the truth or not.

“I’m going to be in town for a while. My home is here and I haven’t seen my family properly for the last couple of years. I need a break from all the attention.”

“Good for you,” I say, wondering where this is all going and still a little wary as to why he is at my house.

“I’ve decided that we should at least be friends,” he announces
, although he’s looking more at Perry than he is at me.

“Friends?”

“Yes. I like you. I like your no bullshit attitude. I also like that you don’t seem to know or give a fuck about who I am. So, I’d like to be friends.”

I hold my thumb over my shoulder and point it next door. “Mr Melnic over there probably doesn’t know who you are either. He can talk underwater with a mouth full of marbles. I’m sure he’d welcome your friendship.”

Marcus laughs and stands up. “See. That’s what I like about you. This is going to work out really well.” He walks down the stairs and stops just in front of me. I freeze, not knowing exactly what he’s planning to do. He leans in and my breath hitches involuntarily. His eyes crease in a knowing grin as he holds my eyes and reaches down to take the lead and Perry’s slipped collar out of my hand. As he steps away, my breathing returns to normal, but I can tell my face is bright red as I watch him resecure my dog. “I’ll see you around Lisa,” he says, his voice gently as he returns the lead to my hand, ensuring his hand brushes lightly against mine when he does. A ripple of electricity shoots up my arm and I clench my jaw, wishing it would fuck off.

“Don’t do me any favours,” I comment, trying to regain a little composure. I know I said that I don’t like good-looking guys, but it doesn’t mean they don’t affect me. It’s why I don’t like them being around me. I don’t want to be his friend. I don’t want to be his anything.

“I’m not.”
He walks straight past me and gets into his silver Porsche 911. I can’t help but release a chuckle as I watch such a tall man fold himself up into a tiny sports car. It just looks so comical.

“What a douche,” I comment as the Porsche rumbles down the road. Perry barks once and I take that as him agreeing with me. Although based on his earlier reaction to Marcus, I think it was more a ‘come back’ bark than anything else.

***

“Lisa. Lisa!” I hear from behind me as I enter the office on Monday morning. I turn to see Erin bounding down the hallway toward me. “I just wanted to thank you again for those tickets. Saturday night was absolutely EPIC. I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun. You wouldn’t believe all the celebrities we met backstage.
Marcus Bailey is my absolute favourite singer. Thank you so, so much! It was just —"

I hold up my hand to interrupt her gushing. "
Don't mention it. It was my pleasure, Erin. I was never going to go, so I'm glad the tickets went to someone who enjoyed it."

"Oh, I did. Very much.
So did my friend."

"Good." Lifting my briefcase to show her I still haven’t made it to my office, I tilt my head to indicate that I'm about to leave.

“Oh. Sure. Sorry. Have a great day. I just wanted to say thanks, and let you know that if you ever need anything from me - just ask." She lifts her hand up to cover her mouth conspiratorially. "Like if you need me to mark you here when you're running late just let me know. I’m more than happy to help you out. Anything you need. Anything. Just ask."

I can't help but laugh. "Thank you Erin. I'll make sure I remember that."

As I walk to my office smiling, I realise that I’m never going to have to take a call I don’t want to for as long as Erin is on reception. That’s a pretty sweet deal as far as I’m concerned.

“Holy shit!” I exhale as I shut my door and find Sandra sitting behind my desk. “What are you doing in here?”

“Waiting for you, obviously,” she replies.

She doesn’t appear very impressed with me. “What’s up?”

“Oh. Nothing…nothing important anyway…” She lowers her eyes and scratches at something non-existent on my desktop. I place my bag on the floor and sit down in the visitor’s chair.

“Alright. I give. What’s not important and has you sighing petulantly?”

“Like I said – it’s nothing. I just typed up the recording you sent through to me this weekend and well… I thought you said he didn’t try anything.”

“Who? Marcus Bailey?”

“Yeah. You obviously didn’t stop the recording when you finished talking to him because it recorded him asking you out to dinner.”

“Did it also record me refusing him?”

“Yes it did. But why didn’t you tell me he asked you out?”

“Why does it matter? It’s not like I went. It’s not like you dated him… right? He’s just some guy who took advantage of his fame with you
because you look a lot like that Naomi woman he was in love with. You aren’t actually hung up on him are you?” I ask cautiously, wondering if my closest friend is about to call girl code on a rock star.

“How do you know about Naomi Prendergast?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

I shrug my shoulders and look away for a moment. “Because…I Googled him. I was embarrassed after the interview and just wanted to see if he’d cause any trouble because of it…” I explain, pulling some vague reasoning out of my arse.

She sighs. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. I just thought you would have told me is all. We could have laughed about it. It was pretty funny the way you rebuffed him. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me…” she drops her eyes, looking genuinely hurt.

“I didn’t tell you because you were so upset about seeing him again. I didn’t want you to know that he hit on me too.” I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to feel hurt…”

“I’m not stupid Lisa. I know he probably has no idea who I am anymore. I know that he’s probably done exactly what he did with me, with at least a hundred other women. But Lisa – he’s amazing. I have
never
had a man with his skills before. After the interview, he hit on me. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but there was something about him. He seemed… I don’t know… vulnerable. I ended up falling for it and I had sex with him in the dressing room after the interview. But it didn’t end there. He took me back to his hotel and we spent the whole night talking and… well, you know… it was mind blowing.

“
I ended up spending the whole weekend with him, and as much as I know I’m probably not the only one he’s done that with. I still don’t want to know for sure. I guess I’ve been hanging onto it. Hoping that I was special, but hearing him ask you out too… well… it just confirms what I knew all along – I was just another girl to him.” She stands up and touches her fingers at the corner of her eyes, making sure that doesn’t smudge her make up. “I don’t know why I’m so upset. I guess I just thought you would have been honest with me…”

I stand up. “I’m sorry Sandra. I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I just didn’t want to upset you… you were already upset…
and I didn’t know the extent of your time together…”

She shakes her head. “It’s ok. I’m being an idiot. He’s a rock star for fuck’s sake. As if he’d really give a shit about a couple of girls working at a magazine right?”

I think back to Sunday morning when he was waiting for me on my front porch and bite at my bottom lip. “Exactly. I’m sure he’s moved on twenty times already,” I tell her, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to tell her that he’s still trying to pursue me. She’s already upset about a mere offer of dinner.

God, what is it about t
hese men that makes women go stupid? I have a genuine fear right now that Marcus Bailey is going to destroy one of my closest friendships – all because he can’t take no for an answer.