Page 2 of I Love Rock n Wine

Five very long and tiring hours later, I walked out of the small personal venue that belonged to Jameson and made my way to my poor dented car. Given that I lived in New York, it was kind of funny that I even had a car, because it fucking took longer to find a fucking spot to park on most days than it would take for me to walk somewhere. But I didn’t drive to a lot of places. This was one of the biggest ones, as Jameson’s place was a good thirty minutes away from where I lived. I flung my bag on the passenger seat and groaned as the phone in the side pocket started ringing.

Without looking at the caller ID, I answered. No one else called me on a Saturday night. “Hey, Ricky.”

“Tiffany, you are alive!”

I chuckled as I leaned against the side of the car.

“I’m upright.Not sure about alive. What’s up?”

“What are you doing right now?”

“I’m currently leaning on my poor baby as I talk to you because I trust no one in this damn city with driving and talking. So, I won’t get into my car until I’m done with you. I repeat, what’s up?”

“I was going to see if you wanted to have a drink with me and the guys!”

I groaned.I can’t remember the last time I was out with my friends. It seemed like I spent all my time working. And when I wasn’t doing that, I was fucking asleep from pure exhaustion.

“Ricky, I want to,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“But you can’t.You know, you used to be the life of the party. Always down for drinks, dancing, or any other wild shenanigans we could find. Where did you go?”

“I found an asshole of a boss who wants to rehearse all the damn time,” I offered, finally getting in my car. “You know what, I’ll make you a deal. The next time you call me and invite me out ,I promise to say yes, unless I’m on tour already.”

“For real?What do I get to do if you back out?”

“Ricky, you’re vile enough to come up with something. So, deal?”

“You’re on, lady. Be safe getting home and text me when you’re there.”

“Will do.”With that, I threw the phone in the cup holder and let out a breath. I knew Ricky well enough that I had to keep my end of the deal, no matter how tired I was because the last time I backed out, I paid for it for days on end.

Chapter 2

~ Heath ~

What the fuck was the problem with everyone these days? I watched the dancers leave the other night after my dumb ass phone call from my lawyer, and I still couldn’t get over the fact that they wore makeup. It wasn’t like they didn’t know we weren’t going to push things hard.

Okay, sure, I was a rock star, one wouldn’t think I needed to wow the crowd with dancers, but I did. Because I liked my stage show to be entertaining.

To be real.

I wanted the crowd to leave thinking, goingthat was one hell of an experience. And no one in my crew or on my team knew that.It was the one part of my life where I allowed everything tobe bigger, better, brighter than it was. It was fake. Other than my songs, everything I poured into those was real.

But sadly, that was it. Jameson was a product, an image. He wasn’t the real me. And the life that became of that image wasn’t me either. Sure, maybe when I started out, it was. But things changed early on. I saw more and more fakeness and dealt with it more and more, and it left me jaded. Fake did not belong in my life.

Ask my ex-girlfriend, who was still trying to get money off of me as if we were married!What horse shit was that? And now, thanks to that call, there was talk about a baby? Where did the lies and bullshit end?

With a sigh, I rubbed a hand over my face before placing my fingers back on the ivory keys in my recording room. No one was here but me. And I was on a deadline. I needed one more final album out for the record company before I could either sign a new contract, or I could walkaway.

Believe me, I had dreams of starting my own record company, but a lot of artists were doing that, and I didn’t want to be part of the same mold.

However, like many times before, nothing was coming to mind. Or anything that did, sounded like shit to me. It’s as if amuse needed to appear to give me inspiration.What I wouldn’t give for a magic lamp or a fairy godmother to help me.

With a damn grunt, I pulled the lid over the piano and sat back. No use forcing it.

“Damn it,” I muttered.

“Something wrong?” I turned around, glancing at the man who stood in the doorway.

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