Page 77 of Shattered Chords

The 4Runner purred softly as I steered it toward the entrance—a wrought iron fence, either side of which disappeared into a line of thick vegetation surrounding a large portion of the land. My phone sat on my lap and I opened up my messages to find the text Dante had sent me the other day. It’d shocked me a little when I realized he’d included the code to the gate along with his address and the instructions on how to find him. I was always under the impression that famous people valued their privacy and his blatant trust in my keeping his secret perplexed me.

But the more I thought about it, the more I understood why he’d done it. We both knew what was at stake here—Ally’s safety. Somehow, the three of us formed a mismatched, close-knit group of people who had no business being...friends. That was the only word that came to mind. I wasn’t certain what else I could call Dante Martinez at this point.

My daughter was impressed for the first time in years. Impressed by the quiet opulence of the neighborhood, impressed by the rare expensive cars that we saw on the way here, impressed by the fact one of her idols had invited her over to see his guitar collection.

Part of me wanted to be in her shoes for at least a second, to know how it felt to be on the precipice of something great. Because Dante Martinez was a key that could open a lot of doors for her, doors we would otherwise have to break clean off the hinges.

I shoved down all my emotions and reached for the keypad to punch in the code. The gate slowly slid to the side and we continued up the long driveway until the front of the house came into view.

Several cars, including Dante’s Navigator, were parked off to the side.

I pulled in the spot next to a Jeep with aNo pain, no gain. Shut up and traindecal. There was a blend of scents wafting from the vicinity of the house and I realized how hungry I truly was. Earlier, I’d spent an obscene amount of time doing my hair and picking my outfit, which resulted in my skipping lunch, and I still wasn’t sure about the dress and the sandals.

Ally stuck to her usual—a pair of skinny jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt that readSystematic, compliments of Jules Keaton, who’d created a brand-new design for the upcoming batch of merch.

Apparently, Jesse Catchum had spoken to someone who knew someone who ran a nightclub in Hollywood, and the band now had their second live show secured for late November, right before Thanksgiving.

Ally was excited.

“You think he’ll like the present?” she asked as we strode toward the front door that was wide open. There was movement and music inside.

“I’m sure he will.” I glanced at my daughter, who was holding a gift box with a red ribbon around it.

Dante had indicated in his text that we didn’t need to bring anything, but Ally felt compelled to make it a true birthday and had really gone all out.

The moment we stepped over the threshold, a floppy-eared ball of fur wobbled over to us and started unceremoniously sniffing my sandals. He was small and nearly all white except for a few brown spots, and one of his back legs was bent at an awkward angle. I was so thrown off by the puppy at my feet that my gaze didn’t truly register the elegance of the interior.

The entire floor, or at least, the portion of it visible to me, was designed as an open concept and seemed sparsely furnished. To my right, there was what looked like a dining and living area with an intricately carved wood table and a sleek sofa corner set, the two being at odds with each other because they obviously belonged to different time periods. To my left, was a huge glass wall overlooking the terrace. A staircase farther ahead disappeared to the second floor, and behind it was what appeared to be a hallway.

A big, muscular man in dress slacks was telling something to a petite Hispanic-looking woman in the far corner of the room, and I suspected they were the ones I saw from the outside.

“So you’re Snowflake?” Ally squealed and lifted the puppy off the floor, her mean face instantly melting into a mask of pure adoration.

The man and the woman stopped talking and stared at us, surprise, then welcome settling in on their features.

“Hello,” the woman smiled and gave me a slight nod. I caught a hint of an accent. “I’m Yanneth.” She wore dark pants and a black and white striped cotton shirt and looked to be in her late forties or early fifties, with her hair neatly tied into a bun at the back of her head, a few silver strands coloring her temples.

“You must be Camille and Ally.” The big man grinned, starting his approach.

“We are,” I said. “Hi.”

“Ah, let me tell him you’re here.” Yanneth lifted her finger and pointed at the ceiling, then disappeared somewhere into the house, her voice carrying over the distant sound of rock music. “The guests are here, Mr. Martinez!” I heard her call, tone urgent.

“Pleasure to meet you,” the man rattled off, his dazzling million-dollar smile growing intently wide. “You’re in for a great time today.” A cross of considerable size peeked out from beneath his shirt, the soft gold offsetting his dark brown skin.

“Oh my God.” My daughter’s expression changed into something reverent. Stars in her eyes, she pressed the puppy to her chest with one hand and offered the other one for a shake. “You’re Malik Dixon.”

“Last time I checked.” He tipped his chin. “And I hear you’re the future of rock’n’roll.”

He had a loud, commanding voice that indicated that he, perhaps, did a lot of public speaking, and I had no idea who he was, but judging by Ally’s reaction, he was some sort of celebrity too. And then I remembered what Dante had told me about his guest list. Just us and his current housemate, whom he’d met in rehab.

Was he a musician too?

Beaming, Malik shook my daughter’s hand before his eyes swept over to me. “We’re glad you could make it.” He had an imposing but kind aura. The lines around his mouth and in the corners of his onyx eyes told me that he laughed a lot.

“Likewise.” I offered a smile, fumbling with the strap of my beach bag. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are.”

“That makes two of us,” he joked, then explained evasively, “I’m just keeping my brother from another mother company for the time being.”

---