I Saw You (9 page)

Four grown men inside closed quarters discussing shit like feelings. And how to capture a woman’s heart.

Fucked. Irrevocably, I was fucked because of her.

“Have you ever met someone, a complete stranger, and felt a spark? Felt as if you knew them.” One nodded, while the other two looked in pain.

“This conversation is making my balls shrink, dude,” Rick grunted, fist pounding Cris once, “but, yes, I have.”

It was my turn to turn to him with a raised brow. “When?”

“Where is she?” Cris hedged, keeping his voice low as we all noticed the brief flash of sadness that passed through Rick’s eyes.

“Lord knows.” He gave a careless shrug. “Left when I was too chicken shit to give in. When I refused to give her the title she deserved.”

“Hold up…” Tex interrupted. He’d left his position against the wall and walked across the room to where the other two sat. “Are you talking about Melanie? Is that why she moved away after out second world tour?”

“Yeah.” Rick nodded, but didn’t elaborate. The underlying pain her absence left was clear as day. Why hadn’t we seen this before?

“When I met her, I was a lot like you and Arianna. I fought the instant attraction, yet she stuck around…fought for me. That too—that desire to fight for us only lasts but so long. When it came time to show her my love, I didn’t. Don’t be like me and let fear rule you.”

“I’m not afraid . . . just confused,” I admitted.

“Same thing,” Rick snapped before grabbing his pack of cigarettes off the table and walking out.

What the fuck just happened?

“Cheetos, don’t you remember how happy he was before Mel walked?” Cris spoke up a few minutes after Rick left.

“Vaguely,” I muttered.

“He might not admit it aloud, but he loved her. His biggest regret to date was letting his pride, career, and stupidity get in the way. Don’t make the same mistake. Embrace the change, bro.”

I swore on all that’s holy that I’d get Cris to stop watching those fake doctor shows on TV.

“Thank you Dr. Man-gina,” Cris glared at me then Tex for laughing. “But we’re forgetting one important fact: he had Mel, while Arianna hates me.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Tex yelled out in exasperation and threw his hands up in the air. “Then make her like you, you idiot. Go to Miami, convince the little hottie to listen, and get laid. Make her see that you’re worth the headache.”

“But—” I tried to explain, but he was having none of it.             

“Just get the fuck out of here and don’t come back until you do. Enough. If I have to deal with this shit for one more day…”

“Damn, you’re moody, Tex.”

“Fuck you and get out,” he growled, and then tilted his head to the side as if something just occurred to him. “Are you taking security?”

“No, I’m heading straight to her club and not moving from there.” Lips pursed, he nodded at my reply. I’d be just fucking fine without any. “If I had it my way, we wouldn’t come out of her bedroom for my entire visit.”

“In that case, get out.”

“Guess I’m going on a trip, bitches,” I announced before standing up and heading for the door. “See you in a few days.”

“Good luck, and if I were you, I wouldn’t mention this to Ashley,” Cris cautioned with a weary expression.

Way ahead of you, buddy.

“Can’t make it tonight.”
No greeting. If I gave my sister a chance to get the conversation going, I’d never get off the phone. Loved her to pieces, but the chick could talk.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she screeched into the line. “Dammit, Cheetos, I haven’t seen you in months. Mom’s been planning this dinner for weeks. What gives?”

Placing the phone between my shoulder and ear, I opened the car door and buckled in. “Um, about that…I’m heading back out of town.” Turning the ignition on, I waited until the car cooled off a bit to pull out of my parking space. It was hot as balls here in the summer. “Tell mom I’m sorry…fuck, I’ll call her myself in a few.”

“Where are you going now? Are those assholes sending you out on another performance? You just got home.” I don’t think she took in a solid breath through all that. Used to my little sister’s rapid native tongue, I continued to listen and waited until she wore herself out. “Swear I’m going to curse out Brian the next time I see him. Such a dick to do this to you!”

At twenty-two she was the baby in the family, and loud. Didn’t care who it was, piss her off and she gave it to you good in the form of a fat lip. Cris learned that the hard way once.

“I know, small fry, but something important came up. Have to go…I need to go.” My home wasn’t that far from the studio. One of the main reasons why I purchased the monstrosity I called home was that its owner was selling his recording studio as well. Sweetened the deal.

He’d been too old to keep up with it and was tired of all the late nights. As a band we purchased the space, and I, his six-bedroom home close to the water.

Parking my car in the garage, I walked inside through the connecting door to the kitchen. “Go where, Chester? Quit being so vague.” Heather’s haughty tone made me laugh. Petulant little shit just wanted the gossip.

“To find my woman and make her see reason.” Saying that was not the right choice of words. I knew this yet her resounding screams had me pulling the phone away before I became deaf.

“Your woman?” she cried out, going up another level in pitch. “When the fuck did you get one of those, and why am I just hearing about this now?”

Frustration mounting, I took a seat on a barstool and rubbed a tired hand down my face. “Would you let me talk—”

“And why do you need to make her listen?” An annoyed huff came through the line. “Did you screw it up already?”

“Well, no. Not completely. I think.” With a quick toss, I threw my keys inside a small tray atop the island. “I met her while down in Miami and as Cris would say…we connected.”

“Is that fool still watching those corny shows?” Her giggle brought a small smile to my face. Heather ragged on him as much or more than I did.

“He is.” I laughed and then stood back up to grab something to drink. “Don’t let him tell you he isn’t. Caught him last week sneaking an episode he had on DVR.”

“What a dumbass.” She couldn’t see me through the line, but as I poured myself a glass of apple juice, I nodded. “All right, enough about Cris. Tell me about this chick.”

Always the demanding little squirt.

Heather looked a lot like me with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes; hers being lighter than mine. We shared our mother’s delicate nose, yet mine had a slight curve near the center due to a baseball hitting me full speed in the face during a high school game. Same lips and tiny mole on the right corner.

But that was where the similarities ended. She was short. At four foot nine, she was a miniature human when compared to my over six-foot-three frame. That, and the woman was demanding as all fuck.

“What do you want to know?”

The huff she released brought a smile to my face. “Stop being obtuse.”

“Gorgeous and mouthy.”

“That’s it? Come on—”

“Doesn’t take my shit like someone I know.” After taking a few sips from my glass, I surveyed the room for my planner. There was a meeting between the band and our label this week that would need rescheduling. They’d be pissed, but who gave a fuck.

“Liking her already.” My sister laughed, which brought me back to our conversation.

“Thought you would.” Opening the drawer next to kitchen, I pulled out the tiny notebook and flipped through this week. “Beautiful, but trouble.”

“How so?” Money says her brows were pinched tight together.

“Relax your face.”

“How’d you know, ass face?” she gasped.

“I’m psychic,” I deadpanned while circling a few things inside my planner that needed rearranging.

“God, you’re annoying. Just finish telling me about the poor woman you are trying to condemn to a life beside you.” Her words stopped me short. Who the fuck mentioned a lifetime?

I wasn’t ready for a commitment of any kind. Yeah, I wanted to spend time with her. Get it in every chance I got, but there was nothing else involved than just…

“Fuck.”

“So you do want more than a quick romp?” The teasing in her tone did little to quell the panic rising within me. “Hey, it’s okay…talk to me. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Not scared,” I coughed, and she giggled. “There isn’t much left to tell. We fought, flirted, and eye fucked the hell out of each other. She was—”

“Cliff Notes version, dear brother. Some shit I just don’t want to hear…unless I can return the favor. You know I’ve always had a thing for Cris.”

“Shut it.” The growl I released only caused her to howl with laughter through the line. “Got the point loud and crystal clear. May I continue now?”

“Proceed.” If she would’ve been in front of me, I’d flicked her in the forehead for being a brat.

“Quick question. Is it just physical?”

“No, and that right there is what scares the fuck out of me.” Snatching my laptop from its place atop the counter, I looked up flights while continuing to explain. “Doesn’t care who I am or what I do for a living. I’m not used to that.”

“So how did you meet?” Heather hedged, sensing the small distress in my tone.

“At a club—”

“A club hoe?” Disgust rang clear through her words.

“No. Not at all.”

“Explain.”

“Arianna—”

“That’s her name?” She didn’t let me finish.

“Yes, and before you interrupt again…” a few clicks and I bought my flight out for tonight “…she’s the owner of the club where we held our after-party.”

“Chester, I’m not seeing a problem here. If what you’re telling me is true, you should be happy, not booking a flight to ‘fix it.’” Right then I knew it would only take a single word to make her comprehend the clusterfuck I was involved in.

“Ashley.”             

“I fucking told you it would come back to bite you in the ass.” And she had, on multiple occasions. Everyone had.

“You think I don’t know that,” I yelled into the phone, exasperated and tired. “Think I don’t feel the burn of the words Ashley spat at Arianna?”

“Whoa—they met, or she saw something online?” At my silence, she let out a long sigh and then the jiggle of keys was heard. “Don’t answer. I’ll be there in twenty with food from Paco’s and a six-pack.”

“See you in a few.” Hanging up the phone, I headed upstairs and into my room. I’d be down in Miami for the rest of the week and needed to pack. Grabbing a few T-shirts, jeans, and some underwear, I tossed them inside a small carry-on and then sat down atop the bed.

In all my excitement I’d forgotten to call the one person who I knew could help me. He alone could get me the information I needed, and was close enough to Arianna to know her schedule.

Picking up my cell phone, I flipped through my contacts until I found the right one.

Two rings, and then he let out a long and tired sigh.
“Let me guess . . . you need a favor.”

I Saw You...

“You do realize that the moment Arianna figures out I helped you, I’m fucked,” Gabriel grumbled as he slid into the small booth I sat in. We’d decided to meet up at this little hole-in-the-wall joint by Calle Ocho that served the Cuban version of a burger called a frita.

“She won’t.” My reassurance meant shit by the way he fidgeted. “Chill.”

“Easy for you to say.” He snorted, and I frowned.

“You plan to come clean about helping the enemy?” It was almost comical to see the man before me—somewhat muscular and tall, sweating it out because of her. He could easily bench press Slim, yet here he sat whining. Almost scared of her repercussions.

“I’m not stupid enough to get caught.” Dabbing the sweat from his brow with a napkin, he tried to reassure me. Wasn’t working.

And then I caught on to his hidden meaning, and my blood pressure rose.
The fuck?

“What’s that supposed to mean? I didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” he spoke low, his face losing all traces of humor. “If I thought otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Thank you.” And I was thankful. The man was my only link to Slim.

Nodding, he waved a waitress over. “To be honest, I wouldn’t be betraying her if the woman wasn’t so miserable.”

“She’s upset?” The thought of her hurt didn’t sit well with me, and my chest tightened. That same pain that scared the fuck out of me arose.

“Pissed. Hurt. Lied to. Take your pick.” Sitting back, he opened the menu before him and perused. “Food’s really good here.”

“Not hungry.” At the edge in my voice, he looked up.

“You have feelings for her.” Not a question; this was a bold statement. With his arms crossed over his chest the man studied me, searched my face for a sign of dishonesty. He found none.

“Isn’t that the million-dollar question?” The joke fell flat. “No. Yes…I don’t fucking know.” Huffing, I rubbed the back of my neck. “Next question.”

Damn meeting had turned into an inquisition.

“Look,” he started, leveling me with a serious look, “you seem like a nice guy, but I will protect Ari. Honesty or no dice.”

Looking him in the eye, I leaned forward and placed my elbows on the table. “Can’t offer what I myself am not sure of. The only certain thing here is that your boss knocked me on my ass. For the life of me, I can’t get her out of my head.”

“Good to know.” Motherfucker laughed while I glared.

“That was Arianna being Arianna, Chester—”

Our waitress arrived then and cleared her throat. “What can I get you boys?”

I shoved my menu toward Gabriel. “You order.”

“Two house frita
s
,
fries, and guarapos.”

Nodding, the waitress pulled out a small notebook and wrote down our order. “I’ll be right back with some water, and I’ll put this right in.” With a small smile she turned around and took a few steps away, but not before admiring the tattoos on my arms. “Very beautiful,” she hummed while coming back over. Then, she pulled up her cardigan sleeve to reveal a small cluster of roses around her wrist. They looked like a delicate bracelet.

“Those are nice. Very detailed.” At my compliment, she blushed. “Who does your work?”

“Talan at Cox Tattoos…best artist in town. Are you looking to get inked?”

“Always.”

Gabriel laughed at that. “Arianna always says the same thing. Woman’s addicted.”

Good to know.

“Look him up. You won’t be disappointed.” With that, she turned around and left. And then there were two again.

“What in the blue fuck did you order to drink?” Curiosity was bitch.

“It’s a sugar cane juice and awesome. Trust me.”

Enough chitchat.

“Where is she?” There was only seventy-two hours between her hearing me out and my plane ride back home. Fucked wouldn’t begin to describe the position I was in if the starving prick didn’t help me.

“Haven’t met a man yet that’s immune to her charms.” Our drinks were placed in front of us and he grasped his, taking a hearty sip. “She’s off today.”

I waited for the rest, but he didn’t offer any more information. He became mute.

Couldn’t he see that I was desperate?

“Gabriel, I will only ask this once more,” I spat out, the mounting aggravation taking a hold of me. An older couple sitting a table down turned and looked our way with disapproving looks. I gave zero fucks. “Where the fuck is she?”

“At her parent’s main restaurant—”

“Where?”

“On Ponce de Leon across from…” The food arrived then, taking his attention away from me and toward the greasy plate before him. Even I salivated.

“Gabriel, tell—”

“Eat first, Arianna later,” he ordered around a mouth full of food.

Again,
motherfucker.