Lennon's Jinx (7 page)

My
heart rate picks up. “He’s done that before and slipped back to his former habits.”

“Has
Currie had any problems during her recent visitations?”

“No,
Currie’s been fine, but I’m a wreck for the few weeks he has her.”

Mrs.
Beckham takes a seat and pats the other one, indicating she wants me to calm
down, but how can I? We’re talking about Currie’s future and ridding myself of
Jonathan.

“You
may want to consider joint custody,” Mrs. Beckham says.

I
don’t want to see Jonathan ever again. “Did you not hear me? Absolutely not.
Besides, we live here, and Jonathan’s in LA. That would never work.”

“We
have a strong case against your father, but the judge will take Jonathan’s
progress into consideration.”

I
can’t lose Currie. “Mrs. Nowak will testify as well as me.”

Mrs.
Beckham levels her attorney gaze at me. “That will work in your favor.”

“Jonathan
wants to talk to me. He keeps using Currie to reach me. What if he files before
I do?”

“You
and Currie live in Naperville, so we can change the venue to here.”

“I
won’t be eighteen for another two and a half months.” I can’t ask for full
custody until then.

“By
the time this goes to court, you’ll be eighteen,” Mrs. Beckham says, “so don’t
worry about that. What do you intend to do after you graduate?”

“Take
care of Currie.” What else is there?

“You
need your own life, Lennon.”

“Currie
is my life, and I have my band,” I say.

“You
know what I mean.”

“I’m
not going to share custody with Jonathan. He ditched us. Let him rot in hell.”

“We
have a couple more months, so there’s plenty of time if you decide differently.”

I
stalk to the door. “Time won’t change my mind, Mrs. Beckham. Thank you. For
everything.” Currie is the only person in my family who matters to me, and I’ll
do whatever it takes to keep her away from Jonathan.

I
leave her office and drive to the warehouse, showing up late for my band’s
auditions. Our keyboard player quit, so Clive and Danny Boy decided to run an
ad without my consent to replace him.

It’s
hard for me to get motivated about booking more gigs when child support brings
in so much. Mom didn’t want to apply for it or alimony. That’s why I hold the
platinum. She thinks Jonathan’s coming back. I’m hoping not, but he always
does.

What
does that jerk want from Currie anyway? He never took any interest in me and
would’ve carved me from Mom’s belly if she would’ve let him.

Inside
the warehouse, I sit down in my director’s chair. The long line of auditions suck.
If they can’t play a few of the simple melodies we write, we don’t waste our
time on them.

Auditioner
number fifteen stumbles into our warehouse. He’s heavily medicated and carrying
a guitar.

Danny
Boy laughs. “We need a keyboard player, not a guitarist.” Danny Boy has a
serious baby face that all the young girls and cougars love, and a tousle of
dark hair they can’t resist touching.

“I
can play that.” The stoner sounds like Tommy Chong, the hippie on
That 70s
Show
. He fumbles with our keyboard and knocks it off its stand, shattering
it. “Sorry, I’ll pay for that.” He bends over and does a face plant into the
concrete, cracking his front teeth and passing out.

Hope
he doesn’t sue us. We don’t have liability insurance. Maybe, it’s time I got
it. Danny throws cold water onto him and rouses him. He helps the auditioner to
his feet and leads him outside, thanking him for his time.

“Guess
that’s it for today,” Clive says with his ever-cool British accent all the
chicks love. He has spiky dishwater blond hair and gets laid almost as much as
me.

“Good.”
I’m ready to leave anyway.

“We
should practice,” Danny Boy says. Since he doesn’t have wealthy parents like
Clive and me, he wants a music career instead of the business degree his
dominatrix girlfriend Susan has picked out for him.

Since
we don’t practice much, our band isn’t as good as it could be, not like
Jonathan’s. He’s dead serious about his music when he’s not smoking crack.

Clive
plays bass, sax, and a few other instruments because his dad is a studio
musician. His dad plays for all the biggies, including Jonathan. Danny Boy has
been taking drum lessons since he could walk.

I
could really use a nap before Currie’s dance recital tonight. “Come on, Danny.
Do we have to?”

Danny
Boy shoves my shoulder. “Yeah, we do.”

“Okay,
for a little while.” This will appease Danny Boy.

“Want
to get a pint with me later?” Clive asks. “We can scour the city for talent.”

I
give Clive a sly grin for the Brit word that means hot girls. We’ve known each
other a long time and have similar interests. “Can’t tonight. Recital.”

“Oh,
right. Can’t miss that.” Clive pulls three beers from the fridge and hands us
each one. “That reminds me. Bailey called here. She wants to meet you later.”

That
would be good for me and would make up for the cluster last night at Jinx’s
house, except I don’t have a babysitter tonight. “I wish I could. Bailey’s a great
friend with perks.”

Danny
Boy snorts a laugh. “You know that girl is only looking for a wedding ring.”

Clive
flicks the bottle cap from his beer at Danny Boy. “And Susan isn’t?”

“It’s
different for us.” Danny takes a sip of beer. “I plan on being with her forever.”

“That’s
boring,” Clive says. “Danny does have a point. Bailey has her sights on you.
She could end up preggars, and then where will you be?”

“It’s
not like I don’t use protection, like some guys I know,” I say, punching Clive’s
shoulder.

“I
do most of the time,” Clive says. “Sometimes, I get caught up in the heat of
the night.”

“What
are you going to do with Bailey?” Danny Boy asks. “She wants more than what
you’re willing to offer.”

I
shrug. “I don’t know. It’s hard to let go of her. We get along. She doesn’t
pressure me for anything long term.”

Clive
slings his arm around my shoulder. “Those are the sneaky ones, mate.”

“When
she gets hurt, she’ll go psycho on you.” Danny taps his cymbal. “And then
you’ll have a mess on your hands.”

“Yeah,
I know.” I tip my beer back.

The
warehouse door opens and closes. The sound of high heels lightly click on the
concrete floor. Now, a girl in our band may be of interest.

“Auditions
are over, honey,” Clive says, appraising her like fresh meat.

That
flame of hair is familiar, no curls unfortunately though. Her head hangs down,
so I don’t get a good look at her. “But I haven’t—”

Danny
Boy shoves her toward the door. “Last weenie broke our keys.”

“I
have mine out in the car,” she says. “I’ll go get them.”

No
way. It can’t be her. She wouldn’t dare show her face here. She knows I have a
band. Doesn’t she? And what did she do to her hair?

Clive
shakes his head. “Whatever, sweetie.”

I’m
peeling the label from my beer when she returns. The faint scent of gardenias
wafts over to me.

It
is Jinx. She’s straightened her hair. What is it with girls and their hair? It
does look good, but it looked good before.

Her
being here is too good to be true. She never did thank me for those roses, and
she hasn’t thrown them away. After school, I spotted them in the front seat of
her car. She probably just wants the new shirt I promised her.

Jinx
takes off her Navy pea coat, exposing black leather pants she must’ve used a
crowbar to pry on and a low cut flowery top that’s see-through and shows off a
purple bustier beneath. She’s like smoking. No nun habit for her today. Why the
change? I straighten in my director’s chair.

When
she sees me, her face pales. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” She turns to leave.
Her left hand clutches onto an object she’s trying to hide from us.

“You
know this bird?” Clive asks me.

I
chuckle. “Yeah, she gave me a beer bath last night.”

“That
sounds kinky. I already like her.” Clive’s gaze wanders all over her as if she’s
a tootsie roll pop that he’s about to cheat on by biting into its chewy center.
“You can’t just leave after enticing us with leather.”

Jinx
cowers and trembles hard, like she did when she threw me out. She’s skittish like
a spooked horse. One fist still tightly grips a black cylinder.

I
scoot my chair to face her. “Let’s see what you got, Jinx.”

She
forces a smile, though I know it’s killing her, and sits down at her keyboard. It
dawns on me what she’s concealing from us in her hand. I get up and walk over
to her. She’s shaking harder now. I place my hand on hers that’s holding the pepper
spray. I had a bad reaction to the spray once. Some girl used it on another guy
at a club, and I happened to be in the way. My face blew up to the size of a
watermelon.

Her
soft, delicate hand trembles in mine. I’d like to hold it longer.

“No
one here is going to hurt you,” I say in a low voice.

I
step away as Jinx slowly puts the spray in her bag and powers up her keyboard.
The melody that comes out is haunting, bleak, way cool. Her mouth opens and she
sings with a voice that spells erotica. It’s nothing like choir singing.

The
whole band lets her finish. No one even interrupts or corrects her, which we
all normally do. It’s how we establish our pecking order.

“Who
wrote that?” Danny Boy asks, equally amazed from his expression.

“I
did,” she says with her chin pressed against her chest so that I barely hear
her.

Danny
Boy hands her sheet music from one of our standard songs. She takes it and
blankly stares at it.

“She
doesn’t read music,” Clive says. “Sorry, doll baby. We need someone to—”

“Do
you play by ear?” I ask, still fantasizing about her tiny feet, not that she’ll
ever let me near them.

She
nods. “I need the money. You do make money at this?”

We
all laugh.

“If
you want the dead presidents, you’re better off dating our fearless leader,”
Danny says, chuckling. “I have a second job, so what does that tell you?”

“We
would make more money if Lennon would get off his bum and get us a real gig.”
Clive nudges me. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s the girls I’m after.”

Jinx
grimaces. She’s still standing there like a popsicle.

“We
have a good job this weekend,” I say.

“That’s
good to know.” Her voice is even a little shaky. “So can I join you guys?”

Clive
waggles his eyebrows at her. “You can’t be the first, but you could be the
next.”

“Not
in this lifetime,” Jinx shoots back.

“Nice,
a bird with a bite.” Clive picks up his bass. “You have nothing to worry about.
You’ve said no. I’ll be a good boy and move on.” That’s definitely not Clive.
He likes a challenge.

Jinx
takes a step back from him. Strange. She is obviously afraid of us. To my
knowledge, we’re not terrifying. Most girls like us. Oh, I forgot. I’m talking
about Jinx, a girl searching for that perfect guy, who only exists in her dreams.
I’m no prince, so I have no shot with her. Why did I give her roses?

I
swagger over to the keyboard and knock out the notes of a song we wrote. “Play
that back.”

After
I step aside, Jinx rips through the number and adds a few more keys to give it
an edgier tone.

She
is talented. Maybe she won’t think I’m a pig if she sees me as a professional and
I get us better jobs.

“She’s
pretty good,” Danny Boy says. “What else can you play, Sugar Lips?”

She
grits her teeth. “The guitar, a little bit of the banjo.”

I
can tell the sexism grates on her and wonder how long she’ll last. The guys can
smell fear and pounce on it like lions stalking a gazelle. It’s only a game for
them, but it can be intimidating to a scared bunny like Jinx.

I
hand her my custom made twelve-string Taylor that cost me fifteen grand. “Play
us something.”

She
stares at it in awe. Holding it like it could break, she sits on a stool and
rips out a lick. It’s another unknown with sweet, sassy, and sexy lyrics. They’re
a bit too literal for me, and the song is almost pop country.

I
don’t get her. All that spark without a flame.

“No
country for us.” Danny Boy makes the sign of an “X” in front of him.

“I
like it.” I take back the guitar and add a few riffs of my own and several
slides. My fingers are strong, so it’s easy for me.

“Ditto.”
Clive picks his bass and thwacks out several harsh notes that give the song a
bluesy twist.

Danny
Boy twirls his drumsticks and taps out a beat for us. Pretty soon we’re
wrapping around her song like it’s our own. Jinx takes up at the keyboard.

“I’d
like a real piano on this,” I say.

“I
think you’re right,” Clive adds.

Danny
Boy grins. He’s probably happy that I’m onboard for once, since I rarely show
enthusiasm.

I
have to admit the girl can play and sing. What else can she do with those
delicate fingers? God, I’d like to find out.

“Am
I in?” Jinx asks.

I
pull the guys aside, not that it’s necessary. We’ve been together long enough
to read each other’s thoughts. It’s for effect and to make her squirm. In those
tight leather pants, it’ll be hard to do.

“Jinx
is good,” Danny Boy says.

“She’s
hot,” Clive says. “How long before I get into her panties? I’m guessing thongs.
She looks like a thong girl.”

“She’s
definitely a floss girl,” Danny Boy says.

I’m
thinking granny panties. I suppress bursting out with laughter because I want
to see their expressions when she cuts their dicks off.

I
give Clive a playful shove. “I thought you told her no means no.”