Page 63 of California Love Songs
Early the next morning, when Erin and Mila came to his place for coffee and some last-minute party planning, they weren’t nearly as happy as Crystal and Opal had been about the trip to LA.
Mila laid right into him. “Dude, you promised. You said you’d be here for the party. You said you’d sing ‘Happy Birthday’ in front of everybody.” She rapped her knuckles lightly against his temple. “Do you remember any of that? Did it sink in?”
Erin was much more restrained, but that worried look had come into her eyes again. “Damien, you said you loved her. You promised you wouldn’t let her down. This is important. It’s her big three-oh and if you don’t show up, it will be spoiled for her.”
Now he was getting irritated with both of them. As if he wouldn’t show for the big event. “Do you think I don’t know that? Of course it’s important. I’m hosting the party and I’ve told you both I’ll be here. But you don’t know how the music industry works. To get a meeting like this for an unknown musician is massive. Like literally once in a decade this kind of thing might happen. If I turn it down, I don’t know when Opal will get another chance.” He took a calming breath. “I can’t do that to her. I can’t take away this opportunity when I brought her all the way out here specifically to try to make this happen. You must be able to understand that.”
He probably argued harder because deep down he felt guilty. He’d so wanted to be there for Crystal’s thirtieth from start to finish.
Mila clearly didn’t, but Erin nodded. Still, the crease between her brows didn’t go away.
Chapter Thirty-One
Damien had the fun of seeing Opal enjoy her first ride in a private jet, courtesy of Crimson Palm Records. No security lines, no cramped seats, just polished leather, soft lighting, and their own flight attendant offering everything from champagne to a full breakfast. They both declined, but Opal accepted a cappuccino and he sipped a green tea while the low hum of the engines pushed her toward a new chapter. He had a feeling that she’d have her own PJ before long, but for now it was kind of fun to show her what it was like to travel in style. She sat quietly by the window, eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and wonder as they soared above the clouds. She kept her guitar case close, resting it beside her like a trusted friend.
All through the short flight to LA and the longer drive through gnarly traffic, Damien focused on keeping Opal calm. She knew what was waiting for her—all-or-nothing meetings with record executives, people she’d only read about in interviews or seen in liner notes. The kind of people who could change everything. She was already brimming with a wild, quiet hope.
So, he avoided talking about his own big hopes for her future or all the things he thought she could do, and instead asked her questions about her past. About her boyfriend and her family. He relied on those things to keep himself grounded, and he suspected the young musician was like that, too. It worked. He could see her relaxing as she talked about home. She even pulled up some pictures of her and her boyfriend, and her folks with the family dog.
Nate was a busy man. He met Opal, told her he liked her stuff, and whisked them off to a dinner with a bunch of global execs. She was nervous enough that Damien was glad to be there—even if it was the kind of event he hated—and able to tell the people around the table how hard she worked and how talented she was.
“Can’t wait for you to play for us tomorrow, Opal. We did okay with this guy. I’m hoping we can do something similar for your career.”
“Thank you,” she said, in a voice close to a whisper.
Wednesday morning, Crystal woke up, blinked, and thought, “Why is this day different?”
And then she remembered it was her birthday. Today she was thirty. She glanced over at the other pillow and wished—longed, in fact, just for a moment—that Damien was there, that she could roll over and kiss him and begin her birthday in the best way she knew. But Damien was doing something really important today, and not even for his own career, but for the sake of someone else. He was being so generous that she decided she could be generous too, and wished the two musicians a successful day. He’d said he would end the night in her bed and she believed him.
So she got up, put on a pot of coffee, and had a long, relaxing shower. For once in her life, she decided to take a slower morning before heading in to work. Today would be all about appreciating what she had and taking it easy. When she was dressed, the calls and messages from her friends and family began to flood in. Just before nine, Damien’s name flashed up on her phone and she grinned.
“Happy birthday, babe.” And then she was treated to a duet as he and Opal sang “Happy Birthday.” They sounded wonderful. She laughed and asked him how it was going.
“Dinner last night went really well. I mean, seriously well. We’ve got more official meetings today. Opal and I are both feeling pretty good about how things are going. I think there could be a record deal before the end of the day.”
Crystal was so excited, she squealed a little bit. “Tell Opal I think she’s amazing. It would be the best birthday present ever to find out she got a record deal.”
Damien laughed. “Don’t speak too soon. You’ll find a little something in your kitchen. In the sugar canister.”
Now it was Crystal’s turn to laugh out loud. “But I’ve never used the sugar canister.” She had a matching set of blue canisters on the counter. The coffee, the tea, and the flour were full, but she never took sugar in anything. If her friends came over and needed some, she had packets tucked away in the cupboard that she hadn’t bothered to decant into the canister.
With warmth in his voice, he said, “I know. I know you, Crystal Lopez. I figured it was the one place you’d never look.”
Then she heard a voice in the background and he said, “Gotta go. The driver’s here. I’ll see you later.”
By the time the car pulled up in front of the towering glass music headquarters, Opal was holding it together, but Damien could feel her strain.
As they rode up in the elevator, he reminded her to stay grounded, be herself, and listen to what the execs said before rushing in. He put his hands on her shoulders. “I believe in you. You’ve got this.”
“Do I look okay? I just figured it was best to dress like myself, but now that I’m here, maybe I should have worn something fancier?” She smoothed down her denim skirt and white camisole, plucking at a charm necklace distractedly. “My boyfriend gave me this necklace. I wore it for luck.”
Damien chuckled and gestured at his own ripped jeans and plain T-shirt. “We’re rock ’n’ roll stars, kid,” he said, hoping to make her laugh. “Suits are not our thing.”
Opal grinned. The innate belief she had in herself that he’d been able to see all along, and the knowledge that she had songs to sing and stories to tell, began to blot out the anxiety.
She took a big breath, tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulders, and nodded. “You’re right. I’ve got this.”
So when the elevator doors opened, she didn’t look like a nervous wreck. She looked like a young woman who was ready to take on the world.
