Page 35 of Follow the Rhythm
Ellis leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking into the middle distance. “It was just my mum and me growing up. Then I went to boarding school, and it was just Jess and me. I don’t know if I’m cut out for that much complication. And lately, I’ve realized I’m much better off on my own. Or with Bea, I guess. Which amounts to nearly the same thing.”
“You and Jess were really that close?” I asked. Jealousy that I didn’t want to examine too closely tangled in my stomach.
“We were, yeah. But I messed that up, too,” Ellis said with a self-deprecating smile. “I do appreciate your company. Truly.” That sadness was back in his eyes. “I haven’t had an afternoon like this in quite a while. I’m just sorry you had to give up your free time babysitting the talent.”
“You’re surprisingly good company for a sexy, troubled rockstar,” I joked. He rewarded me with a genuine smile, so different from his usual ironic ones. It lit up his whole face and made him look younger. Or maybe just less cynical. I knew then that I was in danger of becoming addicted to his undivided attention.
“And you’re not what I expected, Charlie Bennett,” he said, as if he was testing out my name. “You’re much more interesting.”
“Thanks, I think,” I said, smiling in spite of myself.
“You know, I’m feeling quite sober. Would I meet your criteria now?” he asked, settling onto the couch again, his arms spread along the back. His scent heightened, like fresh orange zest with a hit of spicy cinnamon.
“For what?”
“You said you don’t fuck drunk guys. Was my state of inebriation your only objection?”
My throat tightened. What was it about him that put me so off balance? Before I could formulate an answer, or just kneel between his spread legs, Bea burst in through the door.
She looked surprised to see me, but recovered quickly. She crossed her arms, her stack of expensive-looking bracelets clinking, and glared at Ellis. “Are you done having a sulk, then? We have reservations with a rep from Volkiano; they’re interested in a brand deal.”
Ellis rubbed his temples. “Sounds wonderful.”
Bea looked at me pointedly.
“I’d better go,” I said, as if it were my idea, and stood to leave. “Have a great night.”
“Thanks again, mate,” Ellis called after me. I waved over my shoulder.
The hallway was cool and quiet. I took a deep breath and prepared to dive back into the mountain of work that was waiting for me.
But first, I pictured Ellis’s smile, the real one, and wondered how I might see it again.
Chapter 12 - Jess
“Are you sure you should be up there?” I called to Ursula, who was eight feet in the air on a rolling scaffolding tower, adding the finishing touches to the huge, gnarled tree set piece.
“Can it, Tiny. I notice you didn’t volunteer to help,” Ursula called back.
She’d bullied or bribed the venue into allowing us a full run-through of production, and the stage was crawling with techs. Stevie, the brutally efficient stage manager, was giving orders through a headset, but she also kept looking up nervously at Ursula, then looking at me to do something as if I had any control in the situation.
We’d already played the videos of my illustrations on the massive projector screen to test them at the full dimensions, and I honestly couldn’t wait to see how they’d look behind the live band. Kieran, Ellis, and Grace were about to arrive for their portion of the run-through; we just needed Ursula to stop fiddling with the fucking tree. She’d been at it for almost an hour.
“Seriously, I don’t think anyone is going to be able to see that kind of detail from the crowd,” I yelled over the sound of a drill somewhere offstage.
“But I’ll know it’s wrong,” Ursula retorted.
I was relieved not to be traveling on the tour for a lot of reasons, but mostly because I knew Ursula would be impossible to please. Stevie had made it clear she could handle things on her own, but Ursula insisted a designer needed to be on hand for any issues that might arise.
I’d get to see the first show, though, and Grace was trying to convince Austin and me to come out to see a show near their hometown, too.
“Done,” Ursula said finally, and slipped her tools into the pockets of the overalls she always wore.
“Thank god,” I muttered.
The next moments seemed to happen in slow motion. Ursula climbed over the railing of the scaffolding to get to the ladder on the outside with no problem, but a few rungs down, she missed her footing and slipped.
“Shit,” she yelled, and I instinctively moved forward.
