Real Time (5 page)

“What the hell is your bloody problem?” Nick answered, pushing them both off him. “Last time I checked, she was my mum too.”

“She doesn’t need the chaos which follows you everywhere. Dad never approved and we don’t either.”

“That’s not true,” Nick said defending himself and brushing out his shirt sleeves. “Dad and I came to an understanding years ago.” His dad hadn’t been excited about his choice of career, but had grudgingly given in he had been very successful at it. More so than he had ever thought Nick would be. “It wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted but he admitted I had done well and even said I made him proud.”

Sam walked into the house and reviewed the scene. “Nick, the car is here,” he said, his voice making it clear he didn’t like whatever had transpired.

“Just remember what I said, Nick,” Phillip said. “We don’t want you back.”

Phillip and Trevor walked away and Nick leaned back against the wall. “What was that about?” Sam asked.

“Doesn’t matter, mate,” Nick said in a defeated voice. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Nick was quiet as they drove to the hotel to get their bags. At the hotel, his resolve started to break. His hands were shaking as he lit a cigarette and sat down on the bed, trying to calm his nerves. He could hear Sam telling him they needed to go so they could catch their flight, but his mind was blocking out everything except what happened with Phillip and Trevor. Nick knew the crowds which tended to find him were annoying, but he could not comprehend what made the two of them dislike him so much. His brothers were so much older; by the time Nick had gotten to primary school they were already in college. Phillip had a son who wasn’t much younger than Nick. They had never been close.

Nick was startled back to reality as Sam pulled him up off the bed and started pushing him toward the door. Sam was telling him they would miss their plane if he didn’t get moving and he allowed Sam to lead him to the car. Nick was quiet in the backseat on the ride to the airport and during the flight to New York for the connection to Chicago. Sam tried to talk to him, but Nick wasn’t interested in idle conversation. Finally, in the first class lounge at La Guardia, in New York, Nick spoke, answering Sam when he asked about the status of his headache.

“I still have it mate,” Nick answered.

“I can go get some aspirin from one of the shops,” Sam offered.

Nick shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Want to tell me what happened at your mom’s house before we left?” Sam asked.

Nick’s expression was hard. “It’s not important,” he said finally. “Let it go.”

Nick was quiet but there was a definite quality in his tone, letting Sam know Nick was not interested in discussing it. There was no more conversation between them. Nick went back to his thoughts, still trying to hash out in his mind what brought on the events at the house.

Nick arrived in Chicago around dinner time but didn’t go into the room with the band, opting to shut himself up in his. He immediately sent Jake to get a bottle of Scotch and a glass. Once satisfied, Nick gave Sam specific instructions; he wanted to be alone the rest of the evening and, unless something caught fire or a natural disaster occurred, he didn’t want any interruptions.

T
he band was headed to Steve’s room to play poker and the guys tried to talk Kate into going with them. She turned them down, saying she had a headache and was going to watch some television or read a book. After they took off, Kate instead decided to go talk to Nick. His phone conversation last night led her to believe things had continued to be horrible and she wanted to help with any residual effects this was having. She had lost her dad while in high school and knew how grief felt, and how it took its toll on people. Based on what Andy had been saying, she knew Nick had other baggage associated with his parents and his brothers, too.

She knocked on the suite door and Sam answered it. He let her into the sitting room, but warned her - Nick was in a bad mood, said not to disturb him and he probably wouldn’t talk to her. Sam appeared to be bothered by Nick’s mood, which Kate interpreted as he was willing to take the hit for not following orders; otherwise he would have turned her away at the door.
What was the worst he could do?
Kate thought.
Throw me out? Fire me?

Kate knocked on the door leading to Nick’s bedroom. “Better be bloody important,” was the answer she heard.

Kate mentally counted to ten, then opened the door. She went inside, quietly closing it behind her. Inside she saw his suitcase along the wall and found Nick standing in front of the large picture window, staring down at the city lights. There was a half empty bottle of Scotch on the table next to him and he didn’t turn around as she stepped further into the dimly lit room. Kate didn’t say anything as she walked up behind him, putting her arms around his waist. Nick stiffened in reply at the foreign touch but after a few minutes, she felt him start to relax against her. She remained quiet, wanting him to get comfortable with her there. There was no doubt in her mind how she felt about him, boss or otherwise, and she was not going to let him drown himself in this pain, whatever had happened. She was sensing something more than just the funeral, which was depressing enough on its own. No, something happened and it was tearing him up. She had never seen him drink alcohol straight before. Matter of fact, she rarely saw him drink anything alcoholic in the almost six months they had toured together. The rest of the band drank their share of beer and other drinks, but Nick was almost never with them. And then only a single glass of something.

“Was it bad?” she asked softly, finally deciding to break the silence. The fact he hadn’t instantly tossed her out, Kate took as a positive sign.

“It was bad,” he confirmed, continuing to stare out the window and drink the Scotch he was holding.

He showed no intention of moving out of Kate’s embrace and rested against her. “This is why I have American citizenship, so I don’t have to go back to England. And, after this European tour, love, if I even remotely talk about doing anything in London, I want you to lock me up somewhere in a mental ward.”

This confirmed to Kate something had happened outside of the onerous tasks of making the arrangements for a funeral. She stood behind him, idly rubbing his shoulders and leaning her head on his back. She was letting him do all the talking – let him talk the pain out. “The hell of it was my mum was glad for me to be there,” he continued, finishing the Scotch and pouring more into the empty glass. “The rest was a stark lesson in patience as I tried to keep my feelings to myself. Not always successfully, I might add.”

She hugged him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“And it didn’t help when the press showed up at the house. British tabloids are much more aggressive than they are here in the States. I had to get one of the London PR guys to come clear them out; it only added more fuel to the fire. And, trust me, it was a roaring bonfire by the time we got to the funeral.”

She could feel him shake, sensing tears had started. Kate was content to hold him, letting him work it out, waiting for him to tell her what went so wrong. “I was born later in my parent’s life,” he volunteered. “My parents had waited until they were in their thirties to have kids so they were almost fifty when I came along. They had thought they were done having kids with my brothers and then here I came. And my dad all but disowned me when I was a teenager. He thought my music was frivolous and was adamant I needed to go to school to learn some kind of a respectable trade. Both my brothers had already finished college long before and had careers; Phillip is a banker and Trevor is a professor at Oxford.”

“They’re a lot older than you?” Kate asked.

“Trevor is the closest but there are more than twelve years between us,” Nick answered. “Even after I had success and became what I am, my dad was a long time in forgiving. And he passed his disapproval to both of my brothers.” Nick was silent and Kate didn’t push him. She merely held him against her, waiting for him to go on with the story. She suspected he was getting close to what had happened.

“After the funeral, we went back to my mum’s house. I barely had time to say goodbye to her as she was leaving to stay with Phillip and his family in Leeds for a while. Once she was in the car with his family, both Phillip and Trevor backed me against a wall, told me to get the hell out of the house, and not to come back.”

Oh my god,
Kate thought.
What do you even say to that
? Kate silently watched him pour more Scotch in the glass and, before picking it up, he broke out of the embrace, turning to face her. She saw the remnants of his tears and gently reached up, wiping away the rest. His mouth found hers in a kiss – not the soft gentle ones they had been sharing previously – but an assault on her mouth with his tongue. He scared her at first as he held her face in his hands, but she remained calm, knowing it was the stress driving him to be so fierce.

When Nick lifted his head, he pulled her to him in a tight embrace. “I didn’t mean to be so rough, love,” he said softly. “You should probably get out of here before you end up in that bed.”

“I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re okay,” she countered.

Nick gave her another hug before releasing her. “I’m good. Thanks to you,” he answered. “And thank you for the phone calls. They were a lifesaver.”

“I suspected you had a reason for giving Mickey the message for me. It was an odd request.”

“I needed a lifeline. I debated about even going when my mum called because I knew there would be trouble.” Nick ran his fingers through his hair which was now flowing down his back. He usually pulled it back in a ponytail during the day unless he was onstage. He smiled down at her. “I didn’t quite expect what happened. But it’s all right.”

“Then I’ll go,” Kate said quietly. She stepped closer to him and pulled his head down to hers to finish the kiss. His arms came around her holding her to him. He eventually pulled away and turned back to the window.

“Now you really better get out of here,” he growled at her.

Kate touched him one more time then went out the door. She talked a minute with Sam who confirmed what Kate had suspected –things with his oldest brother had been exceptionally bad. Sam asked if Nick had told her what had happened before they left and she skirted at the details, saying they had said some hurtful things, but not wanting to tell Nick’s secrets. She also mentioned the Scotch and suggested he get some food brought up, otherwise Nick wouldn’t be in any shape to do a show tomorrow night. An entire bottle of the Scotch was just asking for a hangover.

* * *

T
he next morning around nine, the band was eating breakfast when Nick strode into the room. He walked over and got a cup of coffee then laid the sheet music he had brought with him next to Kate on the table. Kate glanced at the title ‘
Winning it All’
. Nick turned the chair around backwards and sat down next to her. There was nothing from last night to indicate Nick had ever been upset. He also gave no hint about their kiss or what emotion was going through him at this moment looking at Kate. Nick knew he wanted her, although the argument she worked for him continued to keep him level. But the veneer was cracking. And as much as he wanted to deny it to himself, Nick knew he was falling hard for her.

“Would you have time today to go through this music?” Nick asked her.

Kate picked up the stack and thumbed through it. “I suppose I can get a car and go out to the arena to run it. What is it?”

“It’s the opening theme for the next James Bond movie,” he said.

“Seriously?” Kate asked surprised. “Since when do you have time to write movie music?”

“What the hell do you think I do at night while you guys are all out carousing the bars?” he asked. “Play tiddly-winks?”

“Normal people sleep,” Kate said as the rest of the guys burst into laughter.

“There’s the problem, Kate,” Dave interrupted. “Nick’s not normal. He’s a machine.”

“Laugh it up, mate,” Nick said good-naturedly. “We have about two days when we get back to record this song. Everything.”

Dave rolled his eyes. “Sometimes working for you is no picnic.”

Nick continued to smile at them. “So, if the piano piece works, I have the rest of the music ready and we can start rehearsing it before we get back. I don’t like doing my own arranging and I really hate writing piano music, so I need you to run through it. Make sure it’s fluid.”

Kate was playing it in her head and almost didn’t hear what Nick was saying. “Sure, Nick,” she said finally. “I’ll get one of the security guys to get me a car out there this morning.”

* * *

K
ate left the room and found Brock outside the elevator talking with Jake and Kyle, two of the other security people. There were eight security guys total - Sam and Mike, who were Nick’s main security, Brock, who had unofficially become hers after the events in New York, Jake, Kyle, Ryan, Tim, and Jason. She asked Brock if he would get her a car to the arena, showing him the stack of sheet music Nick had given her. He agreed without hesitation and she went to her room, getting a few things before leaving. Kate had long since given up taking a purse anywhere. First, she never needed it since Nick paid for just about everything, including their entertainment, like the trips to the pubs and bars. Second, it was something else to keep track of. She put a couple of dollars in her pocket so she could buy a bottle of water if she wanted at the arena, and grabbed the half empty one on the table from last night. Making sure she had her room key in her back pocket, she stepped out into the hallway and Brock motioned for her to follow him.

The limo dropped them off at the arena where the show was tonight. Kate had told Brock he didn’t have to hang around but her suggestion went nowhere. Nick had hired him to protect his band members and protect was what he was going to do. Kate walked up on the stage and sat down at the piano. In the beginning, she’d wondered why Nick went through the hassle of dragging a piano around but now she considered it a godsend. She put the music on the stand, lifted the keyboard cover, and started reading through the music. Kate had endured many classical pieces since learning to play but some of these music measures were a little intimidating. She went through the song a couple of times and asked Brock if he could go find her something to write with. About midway through the song, it started feeling hesitant. Kate’s thought was she’d make the correction notes and take it back to Nick for his input. Songwriting was not her specialty, but she had been taught the basics of how to write music when she was at Julliard. Brock found a pencil for her and Kate was lost again in the music.