Trouble in the Making (13 page)

“My daughter doesn’t look at her phone as much as you have in the last two hours.”

Johnny laughed and looked up at his bassist and fellow songwriter, TJ. They’d been together for fifteen years and Johnny wouldn’t trade the man for anyone else in the business. “Gotta do something while we wait on Paul and John to get their shit together.”

What he really wanted was to know why Liz wasn’t answering her phone. He hadn’t heard from her since he’d landed. Was she having second thoughts? Was she still sleeping? He shouldn’t have left her. Not for this. It wasn’t the first time he had regretted the decision, because this time here, in this room with these kids, was nothing more than a waste. It was little more than a joke. These two bubble gum wannabes couldn’t get started without chugging a four pack of energy drinks and jumping around the studio like bouncy balls.

In the long hundred and twenty minutes they’d been there, all they’d done was screech and squawk.

“This is fucked.” He wiped a hand over his face and slouched back in his chair. He was exhausted and he wanted Liz. He wanted to see her, touch her, just be with her. He missed her in a way he hadn’t missed anyone in a long time. That she wasn’t answering his texts or his phone calls bugged him, concerned him.

“Hey man, I heard that,” Paul quipped. “As soon as Barry gets here we can get started. You’re bein’ paid either way, so loosen up. It’s all good.”

“Getting paid either way,” Johnny repeated. “This isn’t for the money. It never has been. It wasn’t for my fifteen minutes of fame. It was for the music. It was always for the music and for you to sit here, content to…do nothing…” Johnny shook his head. He was getting pissed. He was frustrated and it showed. He was usually the calm one. The levelheaded one. Right now, he just wanted to beat the snot out of the kid, especially when he started clapping and bowing in Johnny’s direction.

“Nice speech, dude. It’s more than music now. That’s not enough. It’s not even the most important thing.”

“No kidding. What I can’t understand is someone being okay with that, with anyone in the music business being okay with that. I put my heart and soul into my work, my lyrics, my melodies. You guys can’t even do that much. You can’t play instruments.”

“You don’t need that in order to be the most wanted band in the world, man.”

“You’re not a band. You’re a group of kids who can dance and move your mouths at the same time. You have to pay people like TJ and myself to write your songs, to make you anything close to credible in the music business. And the thing is, you can’t sing and dance like you’ve been doing when it comes to rock.”

“Whoa, man. It’s no big thing if you don’t want to do this. We’ve got other names on the list if you don’t want the job.”

“I’m not doing this for you. I never was, but I don’t walk out on something until it’s finished.” He turned to TJ. “I need some air. I—” His phone rang as he started to stand. Liz. “I’ll be right back.” He touched the Answer key to connect. “Liz? Where the hell have you been?”

* * * * *

Liz stood as soon as it was safe. The aisle filled quickly. She pressed the power button on her phone while she waited. There were two voicemails and three texts. Johnny. She smiled briefly, but then her nerves kicked in again. She’d dozed on the cross-country flight, dreaming intermittently about the hours she’d spent with him just yesterday and last night.

By the time she’d exited the plane behind a newlywed couple so in love they couldn’t stop stepping over one another and giggling and telling everyone they’d been on their honeymoon in New York, behind a not so newlywed couple with a little girl who wouldn’t stop screaming, who had, in fact, screamed or cried for the last hour before landing, she wasn’t sure which way was up, down or sideways. It took her a few minutes to gather herself, to get her legs solid under her.

It had been years since she’d been on a plane and she’d never flown across the country. She’d never been off the East Coast, really. She had a feeling being involved with Johnny would require a lot of cross-country travel, maybe even out of the country travel. She’d be fine with that. She’d told him she wanted to do some of that over the summer and maybe he’d really meant it when he said he would join her.

She didn’t tell Johnny she was on her way to Los Angeles. For all he knew, she was home in Orlando. Stopping against a wall as out of the way as she could find in the terminal, she checked the messages he’d left for her.

The first one was him telling her how much fun he’d had with her, how much he’d loved seeing her, being with her.

The second was him asking where she was, why she wasn’t answering her phone when he called, why she wasn’t responding to his voicemails or texting him back.

His texts consisted of dirty words and heartfelt concerns. Was she all right? Had his leaving hurt her? Did she realize as soon as the recording was finished, he’d be on a plane right back to Florida?

She did realize it. She hadn’t been hurt. She’d been left with a choice to make. He’d always come to her, always made contact first, and she’d thought that perhaps it was her turn to make a move.

She touched Johnny’s name on the screen of her phone and it started to ring. Johnny picked up on the fourth ring. Liz couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips at the sound of his rather irritated voice. “Where the hell have you been?”

Liz smiled. “Um. Busy.”

“Not a good enough answer, Lizzie. I’ve been worried about you.”

“I know. I just got your messages.”

“Just now?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t answer the phone earlier when you called.”

“Why not? Is something wrong?”

Liz started walking. There had to be some way out of the airport. “No, nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re being evasive, baby. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Why is it so quiet?”

“I stepped outside the sound booth when I saw it was you calling. Why is it so loud? Where are you?”

She hesitated for a split second before answering. “I’m at the airport.”

“The airport? Which one?”

“LAX.”

“What?” She heard the gasp in his voice, the shock. “You’re here? Baby, why didn’t tell me you were coming?”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well fuck. Color me surprised. Okay, look. It’ll take me about an hour to get to you, but hang tight and—”

“Why don’t I come to you? I can take a cab, can’t I? Or rent a car?” She’d never taken a cab anywhere. She’d never needed to. Until now.

“It’d still take an hour or so. Do you have my home address in your phone? You can take a cab and I’ll meet you there. Believe it or not, it’ll be quicker.”

“Yes, I have your home address. What about your work? I know you only have limited time in the studio and me showing up like this might mess you up.”

“Nope. We’ll come back here. I don’t know if you want to sit in the studio for the next several hours, but—”

“It’s better than sitting alone at your house or in a hotel room. Are you sure this wasn’t a bad idea?” She heard the uncertainty in her voice and was pretty sure he would hear it too. It wasn’t the first bit of doubt she’d had about the spur-of-the-moment decision to fly out to see him, but she had been trying to control it. He wouldn’t turn her away and he’d be happy to see her. She knew those things without question, it was just… For the first time years, she was taking a chance with her heart. Again.

“No, baby. Promise. Shit, I can’t believe you’re here. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.” Liz hung up and went in search of transportation. “Wow,” she said to herself as she stepped outside the baggage claim area. She’d never seen so many taxis in one place. Orlando had taxis outside the airport too, but not like this. Most people there rented a car, since cab fare to International Drive and beyond to the Disney theme parks could kill a vacation budget but this? “Wow,” she said again.

Once seated inside an available cab with her one carry-on sitting on her lap, she gave the driver Johnny’s address.

Traffic leaving the airport was heavy and the highways and interstates were log jammed in some areas. This was her first cab ride and given the way the driver had to navigate through the other cars on the road, it would likely be her last. She saw her life flash before her eyes at some points so she tried to focus on other things, like the scenery.

The area was huge, spread out in some places, packed in like sardines in others. The sun was shining but there seemed to be a haze hanging over most of the populated areas. It wasn’t until they were driving closer to the ocean that it cleared out somewhat.

She’d never been the least bit curious about Los Angeles or any part of California south of Napa Valley. She’d done heavy research on the central and northern regions of the state for some of her books, but southern California hadn’t ever really appealed to her.

She rolled her window down just a little. They were on the Pacific Coast Highway and she wanted to smell the ocean. The sun glinted off the water and she closed her eyes briefly against the brightness, letting the breeze ruffle against her hair.

They turned finally, to the right first and then the left. The street Johnny lived on curved in what felt like a never-ending S, and true to his word, he met her at his home. He stood in front of a small stone-and-white-picket gate, behind which was a very nice, yet unassuming, one story house. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected but at the same time, it was exactly what fit him. He was at her door almost before the cab driver stopped the car and the smell of the sea hit her first. The sound of waves, second.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” His lips were at her ear, his arms were around her and she was pulled close again his long, lean body. Clad in jeans and an old faded t-shirt along with some sneakers that had seen better days, he was gorgeous.

“That makes two of us.”

“You have no fucking idea how much I needed to see you, how much I needed to hold you.”

“I guess maybe you can show me later,” she teased. It was beginning to feel natural, coming more easily to her, the ability to tease, to be less reserved. At least with him.

“Hey, man,” the driver said from the front seat. “This is all real touching, but the meter’s running.”

Johnny squeezed her once more before stepping around her. “Sure thing.”

“I’ve got it, Johnny. I don’t need you to pay cab fare.”

Johnny shook his head and scoffed at her. “As if I’m going to make you pay it.” He handed a few bills into the waiting hand of the cabbie. “Here you go.”

The man’s eyes lit up as he took the money. “Hey. You’re Johnny Trouble, right? The guitarist?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, man, I love your stuff.”

Johnny grinned. “Thanks. Love that you got my girl here in one piece.”

“Ah man, no sweat. Hey, I gotta ask… Is it true you’re not gonna be touring anymore?”

“Yeah, ‘fraid so.”

“Real shame. You’re great live.”

“Appreciate that. It was fun.”

“Wow. This is awesome. Can I get your autograph?”

Liz was by Johnny’s side with a pen already in her hand. He looked at her and she smiled. She’d never seen him being fawned over before, not like this anyway and not by a guy. It was rather surreal. She was in love with a rock star. A recognizable, bonafide rock star.

“Liz? You okay?”

Johnny was waving his hand in front of her face and the cab was nowhere to be seen. “Yeah, I… It’s just hit me, that’s all.”

“What has?” he inquired as he slid his arm around her back and led her through the small gate up to the house.

She forgot to reply as he let her in the front door. The living room was sectioned off with very comfortable-looking leather couches that beckoned her to sink down into their cushions and rest. She was tempted to give in, so she chose to ignore the pull and turned around. The dining room held a round, black table with only four chairs. It was a simple room with the only decoration being a sunburst mirror flanked by two of his platinum albums. Stainless steel and black appliances highlighted the kitchen. “Hmm. We have a problem here.”

“We do?”

Liz leaned over the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. “I don’t see a coffeepot of any kind.”

Johnny came to stand beside her and looked into the kitchen as well. “No. I don’t really drink the stuff often enough to need one.”

“I can’t stay here then.” She was only half teasing.

“That is a problem then because I’m not willing to let you stay anywhere else.”

“How do you propose we solve this then?”

“Well, now, hear me out. There is the radical invention called a store and I do believe they would carry what you need in terms of coffee making paraphernalia.”

Liz nudged him with her shoulder. “I suppose that’ll do.”

Johnny laughed and shook his head. “And I’m the one with the name Trouble,” he groused lightly.

Liz turned away from the kitchen. There were accents of white, silver, and ocean blue throughout the rooms she could see. She couldn’t say what she’d expected when she thought about his house, but this fit more of his personality than anything ostentatious would have. She couldn’t have seen him in a mansion, in something resembling a museum or an episode of MTV Cribs.