Playing For Keeps (5 page)

“Brilliant as always.” I smiled at Kaitlin, lounging against the wall in silence. I didn’t think she held the same level of hope that Bea did. “You are too cool for this crap, you know that? Way too awesome.”

“Oh, wow. I get it.” She laughed. “You think that was it? Not even a thank you?” Her eyes welled up with unexpected tears. I wiped them away for her with the back of my sleeve.

“Hey, come on, Bea,” I said softly. “Remember when we founded Ladies? We said it was just for fun.”

“I just wanted an outlet for my non-classical music,” Kaitlin said.

“I just wanted to keep in practice,” I added. “Pay homage to my roots. And have an excuse to spend lots of time with you.” Bea gave me a tiny smile through her tears, her eyes wide and sparkling with moisture. “And it’s been really good. I think we’ve done a lot more than I ever thought we would. Hey, we’ve pretty much been able to drink for free our entire college career. How many people do you know who can say that?”

That got me a little laugh from Bea. “Remember the first time we lied about our ages to play a show?”

“We had to hunt down some fake IDs really fast,” Kaitlin said. “Man, we got some serious use out of those.”

“I still have mine!” I pulled out my wallet, dug the ID from under a pile of punch cards, and held it up triumphantly. Then I examined the date. “Hey, my birthday was last week! I turned twenty-seven. Where was my party?”

Snot flew from Bea’s nose as she laughed. The snot made Kaitlin and I burst into giggles, and Bea laughed harder. She wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. “Gross. And sorry about the party. If it makes you feel better, you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

I gasped. “How dare you!”

“Don’t worry,” Bea said. “At least your boobs still look perky.”

I nudged by best friend with my shoulder. “You are the end all, be all. Come one, I’ll buy you both dinner. I’m starving.”

We searched for a cheap spot to eat without saying much, each of us lost in our thoughts. It wasn’t like I hadn’t expected something like this to happen. Getting our hopes up only to have them dashed. That was the business. Hardly anyone made it. I’d warned Bea. And now she was battling back more tears.

“Bea, stop,” I said, after we’d ordered at a little falafel place and sat at a hard booth with our trays of food.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m not usually this emotional.”

I shared a glance with Kaitlin. Yeah, Bea
was
usually this emotional. And if I was honest with myself, part of why I didn’t want to audition in the first place was to shelter Bea’s feelings. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing, though. She was an adult. Smart and mature. I knew she could handle disappointment, even if I also knew it would take longer for her to get over it.

“I just…I guess we’re really broken up,” Bea said.

“Only the band,” I reminded her. “Not
us
.”

“That was a nice waste of my time,” Kaitlin added. “Sitting there all afternoon. I have so much composition to finish this week. And I could have picked up another shift at the coffee shop.”

“Okay, look,” I said. “I’m not into this thing anyways. Never was. It’s definitely not worth getting us so down in the dumps. We are awesome. Always have been, always will be. So let’s forget about it. Chalk it up to experience and meeting someone famous and move on.”

Bea bit her lip and twirled a french fry in her fingers. I knew how badly she had wanted to walk through those doors and come face to face with a glittering future, but now she was coming to terms with the hard reality. Her eyes softened. She took a deep breath and shrugged.

“You’re right. Let’s eat. And talk about how gorgeous Jimmy Keats is in person.”

I dropped my fork, choking briefly on my pita bread. Now didn’t feel like the right time to share my story. Maybe there never would be a right time. It was in the past. All of it.

Bea’s mood improved exponentially as she went on for thirty minutes about how hot Jimmy Keats was, how he looked at her when she spoke, how nice he was, and did she mention how good looking? Her sauce congealed on her plate. By the time she changed the topic, I felt ill. Here was Bea, going on about her celeb crush and here was I, her best friend, thinking way too much about having slept with him.

And how great it had been.

And how he hadn’t called when he said he would.

“Ladies in Waiting, though…we were good. They don’t know what they’re missing,” Bea said wistfully, picking up a tomato and dropping it again. “The songs you write, Court…” she shook her head. “It’s the music no one realizes they need until they hear it, then they can’t stop listening, you know?”

I forced a laugh and took a huge bite of falafel, brushing off the irritation I felt when she mentioned how Jimmy Keats had looked at her. Because I couldn’t yet get over how he’d looked at
me
. And I didn’t want to: not be over it, not to even need to be over it. It was a toss-up whether I preferred conversation about him, or conversation about our failed attempt at musical stardom. “I don’t know about
know
, but I can certainly daydream about it.”

“I was daydreaming about quitting my job at the coffee shop,” Kaitlin said with a wry grin.

“We gave it a shot. We knew it was a long one.” I shrugged and tore a piece of pita bread into miniscule pieces, then wiped my hands on my napkin.

“The girls at Delta Gamma are going to flip,” Bea went on. “Too bad there isn’t better news to share with them.”

“They would have been so excited for us.” I could imagine their hugs and screams of delight had I returned with good news. There would have been, without doubt, an impromptu party. “Think of it this way, Bea. We’re supposed to struggle. It’s required of us to hate our pre-megastar years so we can someday write amazing, insightful lyrics and become very cool adult rebels.”

Bea shoved a handful of cold fries in her mouth. “Except we’re breaking up after this.”

I sighed and pushed my plate away. “We’re in our last year of college. Do you know how much studying I have ahead of me?”

“Um, you’re not the only one,” Kaitlin said.

“See? We have responsibilities.”

Bea grabbed a stack of napkins for her greasy hands. “We have dreams, too.”

I scanned the faces in the Gyro Stop, guessing at their lives. Office workers abounded. Several college students. A few academics. Were they all living their life’s dreams? Would any of them scoop up the chance to be pop stars? I knew I could have given more of myself at the meeting. We could have danced when we were asked to. We’d practiced after all. A professional would have breezed in there, saw Kevin or Jimmy or whoever and let the memory of a sordid night they’d shared together slide like water off her back. But I acted weird. Was I just being too damn stubborn for my own good?

“Didn’t you say you were seeing a new guy?” Kaitlin blurted, as though sensing an argument on the horizon. If only she knew the new guy was the last thing I wanted to talk about.

“Nah. I mean, the sex was good. But--.”

“But there’s actually more than that?” Kaitlin said, and we all giggled in our sodas and moved the conversation on to other things.

4.

That Saturday night, a restored Mustang pulled up to the Delta Gamma house. I wouldn’t have noticed had I not been sitting in front of my bedroom window, cramming for an exam on Monday. The driver didn’t get out of the car right away, but I saw the outline of him.

Kevin.

No, Jimmy.

Shit.

I closed my laptop and bit my lip. I could hide in my room until he got the hint. I could met him at the door and tell his lying ass to piss off.

Or, I could do what I actually wanted to do and greet the man who made my skin sing, ignoring that he held my musical future in his capable hands.

I decided a combo of those things was the best possible action. He rang the doorbell and I raced to it, only because I didn’t want anyone else to open it. Diya, sitting nearby, raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything. After a count of ten, I opened the door, slowly. Looked him up and down like he was the last thing I wanted to see on the doorstep.

He wore fitted black jeans, a gray t-shirt and a leather jacket. A few brushed chrome chains circled his wrist. I could pretend I didn’t want him until the cows came home, but my body betrayed me, coming to life at the sight of him. Stupid body. He looked me up and down, his eyes alighting with appreciation. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, he was seeing, since I was dressed for comfy study time, not for going out.

“I hope your schedule is clear,” he said.

“Sorry. Busy.” I pressed my finger to the side of my mouth. “And wasn’t that…two weeks ago? The dimension of time must take on a whole new meaning for someone like you.”

“Some talentless hack who gets by on nothing but his hard body?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m glad you like my body.”

My hand gripped the door. “That’s not what I said.”

“You said as much that night. And more. And…less. At least, less that was coherent.”

“And I recall you saying you’d call.”

He looked down and rubbed a finger over his ear. I glared. No way. He could not do that. That move was too adorable for someone in as much trouble as he was. I would not let myself soften just because his affectations were cute.

“I got held up with some stuff. But I’m here now.”

“And you think I’ll just drop my life whenever you come calling? Whenever you snap your fingers? I’m busy.”

His eyes swept over my ratty yoga pants, my fluffy pink socks, and the long sleeve jersey with the hole just to the left of my belly button.

“Yeah, you look like you’re having a good time.”

My feathers were more than ruffled, they were ready to stage an attack.

“I’m sorry we can’t all spend our weekends partying and pimping for the gossip mags. Some of us have real work to do. Some of us have plans. Some of us have
brains
.”

I wasn’t entirely sure where that last statement came from. His assumption that I would drop everything for him? I was
so
not that kind of woman. Still…I knew he’d never gone to college, there wouldn’t have been time in his busy music career for that…so what? He made more in a year than I’d make in a lifetime. The words hit a tender spot, though, because his eyes took on a hard edge and his nostrils flared. He stepped into the DG house, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

“I am sorry I couldn’t make it in your time, princess. But I’m here now. And yeah, there are other places I could be. But I’m not. My life is a little bit insane right now. This is the best I could do. Maybe that’s not good enough for you, but it’s all I have to give. Take it or leave it.”

That stare of his was mesmerizing. Intense. The kind people use when they’re telling the truth. Except, with Jimmy—Kevin—whatever the fuck his name was, I was a terrible judge of the truth. The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted him again. Was that really his best, and did he really want to give it to me? Desire flared to life with him standing so close to me. My glance dropped to his hand, pressed against the door just over mine. God, I’d liked it on my body. What did I have to lose, other than a little pride?

I clenched my jaw, then released it. “You’re going to have to wait. Even princesses don’t just sit around all perky and pretty, waiting for their prince to decide it’s time to show.”

That slow smile appeared again. My knees went weak. “I’ll wait for you. Long as it takes.”

I disappeared into my bedroom. Too late, I realized I hadn’t told Jimmy he could come in or take a seat or anything. So much for my southern hospitality.

“Diya, could you do me a favor? There’s this…guy at the door. Could you hang out with him for a few minutes until I get dressed?”

Diya shrugged and marked her page in her book. “Sure.”

She headed into the front room and I went berserk, flinging half the contents of my closet onto my floor, slapping a satisfactory layer of makeup on my study-tired face, and trying to get my hair under some kind of control. It was getting too long. Needed a trim.

When I reentered the living room, Diya and Jimmy were sitting on one of the couches, making small talk. My roommate caught my eye and raised an eyebrow slightly, and immediately I knew she knew who Jimmy was. But that was the single indication she made that there was anything out of the ordinary going on. Only Diya could look so nonchalant when speaking to someone so famous.

“You are gorgeous,” Jimmy said, before I could get a word in. I knew I looked good in my yellow satin crop top, black cigarette pants and strappy heels. My full hair was pulled back on one side with a red flower clip our old DG president, Katie, had lent me once. I’d forgotten I had it until tonight.

“Have fun,” Diya said, calmly, closing the door behind us after we’d stepped out into the night.

Jimmy’s fingertips touched my lower back, leading me gently to his car. My brain swirled with questions—who was he? When would he admit he’d lied about his name? Why had he come, after learning who I was? Why was I even going with him right now?—but my spine settled into his touch comfortably. Traitorous body.

Jimmy Keats opened the passenger door and I slid in. He closed it behind me. In the moment of silence that penetrated my thoughts while Jimmy walked around to his side, anger took over, once again.

I faced him, after he closed his door and opened my mouth. But he beat me to it.

“You lied to me,” he said, coolly.

“Excuse me? You lied to
me
,” I countered. “I never said I was someone I’m not. But you told me your name was Kevin. So who are you really, Kevin Jimmy Keats from World Wonder? Do you even know how it feels to have been lied to by someone who…who…”

He raised his eyebrows at me. “Who what?”

My cheeks flushed and I looked straight ahead, folding my arms over my chest. He knew what I meant. The intimacies we’d shared.

“
You
lied,” I repeated.

He put his keys in the ignition and started the car. We pulled away from the Delta Gamma house. It was at least a mile in the rearview mirror before he spoke again.

“My name is Kevin James Keats. My father’s name was Kevin, too. So my whole life, I was Jimmy. I don’t tell many people my real name, even though it’s out there, if someone really wanted to find it.” He licked his lips. “It’s interesting that you didn’t go searching for the truth.”

I looked out the window as we passed a rainbow of L.A.’s lights. I knew lots of celebrities had stage names. I’d just never thought to check on Kevin’s It was probably front and center on his Wikipedia page.

Kevin sighed. “Sometimes, it’s better for me to be Kevin. When people recognize me, when they treat me differently.”

“Like a celebrity? Which you
are
. Shit. The things I said to you.”

Kevin shifted gears. “I liked what you said to me. It’s how I knew you saw me as a human being, first.”

“You’re not a human being. You’re Jimmy fucking Keats. You’re an icon, a poster, an object of desire.” I faced him again and watched the muscles in his jaw work as he processed my words. “But more than all of that, you hold the power over
my
band.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” His voice wasn’t defeated or even angry. It was frustrated. “I’m all those things. But let’s try this. For tonight, how about we close the door on all of that and just be two people. Nothing else. No baggage, no connection.”

“Just the sex?” I asked, sarcastically.

“Is there something wrong with that?” His eyes swept over me and where they looked, they left a trail of heat. He changed gears again. I wanted those arms around me.

I was a modern, desirous woman. I’d liked what he did to me that night after Filth, and I wanted to see what else he could do. So what?

“No expectations. No complications. No expecting phone calls or dates. Nope, nothing wrong with that.”

He made an unintelligible sound in the back of his throat and looked from the road to me. He seemed to want to say something, but as he read the desire in my eyes, he shook his head, seeming to change his mind. “Fine. We’ll do it like that. If that’s what you want.”

“It is. So what next?”

“First, we’ll go back to my place. Get a bite to eat. Then, we talk.”

I pulled a disbelieving face. “Talk?”

He licked his lips. “Oh, that’s right. ‘Just the sex’ doesn’t require talk, does it? Well, I hope you won’t mind if I try to get to know you a little bit. As some questions. I prefer at least some intimacy with sex, even if you don’t.”

It felt like being slapped to hear his assess my behavior like that. I sucked in a breath, but swallowed my next words, not bothering to ask him what kinds of questions. I was ruining this date before it had begun. Even so, I was allowed to have a healthy sexuality, in whatever way I chose. But then I saw the way he was trying to hold back a laugh and switched gears. He was teasing.

“I’m not like that, what you’re thinking. Not
completely
,” I joked. “We can talk. A
little.
”

I sat back. Invited him in. Looked at him through heavily lidded eyes. Told him yes with my body language.

Yes, I wanted those broad hands of his all over my body. Yes, I wanted his musical voice whispering naughty things to me. Yes, I wanted to submit to every way he could make me feel good.

“A little?”

I laughed. “Yeah. As long as you have interesting things to say.”

“I’ll work hard to not bore you.” He grinned.

L.A.’s lights were a blur through the tinted windows as we climbed the road to his house. But with the delightful lightness in my body and the thrill of anticipation keeping me alert to every minute detail, they might have been stars in a clear country sky. Jimmy Keats put his hand on my knee and left it there. He looked up and down my legs, followed the curves of my body to my face. Caught and held my gaze, with that sexy seriousness I’d seen on album covers.

Even when he did, finally, smile, putting me more and more at ease, he exuded maturity and power uncommon for his young age. He was sure of himself in a way most men my age weren’t, yet.

“What am I supposed to call you?”

He thought for a moment. “Kevin. Anything wrong with that?”

I would call him anything he wanted, as long as he kept looking at me that way. “Nothing wrong with that at all,” I said. “Kevin.”

“Good. We’ll be at the house soon.”

*

“The House,” as Kevin casually referred to it as we rolled up, as though it could be any four square walls in some forgotten place in the country, was a Tim Burton fairy tale come to life. The building clutched to the side of a hill like it had claws under its foundation. From there it swooped out like a bubble, all glass and primary-colored steel. The second and third floors twirled like the front end of Elvis’ 50’s hair and it all came to a point at the fenced in roof.

Kevin pulled up to a security box just off the main road. When the gate opened, it was like those scenes from movies where the new, beautiful world through the magic portal is slowly unveiled to the characters. We left behind dry, dusty southern California and entered a lush Mediterranean paradise. Tall trees with thick leaves bigger than my hands shaded the stone-paved drive from above. Red and orange and lavender flowers crowded either side, pushing slightly over their planting beds as though they wanted to take over the driveway. Beyond, I saw patches of thick grass amongst shrubs, circular herb gardens, and vine covered statues. I rolled down the window and heard water running over the sound of the car, but couldn’t see where it was coming from. The drive ended in a half-moon in front of the house.

“Do you do all your own gardening?” I asked.

Kevin’s laugh was a deep rumble in his chest. A real, normal person sound. I liked it.

“I am terrible with plants. When I was a kid, we did this project in class for Mother’s Day. Planted some kind of flower in a paper cup and left them on the windowsill to grow.”

“I did that, too! I think we planted pansies. My mom cried when I gave hers to her.”