Page 46 of Kiss and Tell
I wanted to bring up that Mason guy again, but knew it was a touchy subject. Talking about the guy clearly upset Connor, but I didn’t know why. Had they had a fight? Was it bigger than just falling out of touch? Were they, perhaps, not even friends anymore?
I didn’t know why it was so important to me to know, but after having confided in Connor about my problems, I had the urge to let him know he could do the same with me.
“Let’s make it invite-only,” he spoke up. “No walk-ins. That way I can invite some of my musician friends. If they have to worry about fans freaking out around them, they won’t come. But if it’s only invited media, plus friends, family, and a few of the regulars, they might be able to make it.”
“Can I ask…” I trailed off. It was the perfect opportunity to ask, and it was a question I’d been wondering.
Connor gave me an inquisitive look, but nodded.
“Is your friend Mason one of those musicians?” I said carefully.
He stilled. His hand clenched into a fist, tensing and relaxing unconsciously.
“No,” he said shortly. “But he works in the industry, too.”
“And you were friends when you were young?”
Connor’s lips twisted. He went silent for so long I wondered if he would refuse to answer.
“We’ve known each other since we were kids,” he finally said. “He followed me into the music thing. I always wanted to play guitar but he was shit with it. Couldn’t play, couldn’t sing. He didn’t let it get him down, though. He decided to work with me behind the scenes instead.”
“Like as a tech guy, or a roadie or something?” I asked, not knowing much more than that about the music industry.
Connor’s lips tilted into the barest of smiles, an almost fond expression on his face despite himself.
“Mason became my manager,” Connor said. “For as shit as he was with music, I was just as shit with the business side. So Mason took over that end of it for me. It worked well for us. I could never stick to one band, always drifting in and out of different line ups, even doing solo stuff for a while. It was good having him there to keep my career on track, to do the networking and make business connections.”
“So you worked closely together?” I asked.
“Used to.” Connor shifted on the sofa, stretching his long legs out and crossing them at the ankles, feigning a casual pose that belied the tightness in his voice. “Anyway. Like I said. We lost touch. I’m not in the industry anymore, but he still is, so…” Connor faked an easy shrug.
“And you don’t think he’d like to come to the grand opening?” I asked.
Connor made a sound that was almost like a snort, but caught himself.
“We can send him an invitation, at the very least,” I said. “Keep a spot open for him.”
“Don’t bother.” Connor’s tone wasn’t curt the way it had been in the car on the drive up. Instead, it was more world-weary, resigned. “Give that spot to another media person.”
I hadn’t meant to push, hadn’t meant to upset him. But there was something so off in Connor’s expression. A tinge of sadness, of regret.
I pretended to sort through papers, feeling guilty for even bringing it up again, despite knowing how much the topic seemed to affect him.
“Do you want to change?” he asked me out of nowhere. “It’s late and you’re still wearing your jeans. Tell me you at least brought comfy sweatpants or something.”
I had. A nervous, jittery sensation filled my stomach. Was this Connor’s way of trying to get me out of my clothes? But the ratty t-shirts I usually slept in were the farthest from seductive as I could get. I might as well get comfy, like he said.
I went to the bedroom to change into a pair of cotton pajama bottoms and a tank top with a cartoon unicorn on it. I pulled my hair back into a messy ponytail and went back to the living room.
“So, for the menu…” I started, those nerves still fluttering in my belly.
I sat down next to Connor on the sofa and placed my laptop on the table. Connor’s proximity wasn’t helping calm me. If anything, his aftershave was making my head go fuzzy.
“Have you decided how much food you want to offer?” I asked. “Full menus or just bar snacks?”
Connor didn’t answer. When I turned my attention from my laptop to him, I saw him staring at me.
“What?” I asked self-consciously. I tugged on the hem of my unicorn sleep shirt, smoothing it. Sure, I wasn’t in my business attire, but I wasn’t dressed like a slob or anything.
