Page 65 of Broken Rock

‘My cupboards? As in the ones in the kitchen?’

‘Yes. As in the ones in your kitchen. Why do you look so surprised?’

‘That’s like my snowed in, absolute desperate for food stash. I didn’t actually think there was anything that could make all this.’

‘I’m going to be doing most of the cooking, aren’t I?’

He sits down beside her and grins. ‘Afraid so. Cooking and me - we have a love/hate thing going on.’ He tries the food and is really impressed. ‘This tastes amazing, Chloe.’

‘Glad you like it. So, are you going to tell me how long you’ve had trouble sleeping?’

He swallows and takes a long drink before he answers. ‘A while.’

‘That answer firmly sits in the vague category. I’m not trying to be nosey, Tate. I’m just worried about you.’

‘I know and I appreciate that, but I’m grand, really. I’m used to getting by on hardly any sleep.’ He doesn’t bother adding that in the past he’d used artificial means to give himself a boost. He didn’t realise until recently how much of a boost he actually got from what he took.

Chloe leans back in the chair and smirks at him. ‘It’s so obvious you’re used to being interviewed. You have a fantastic knack of avoiding giving a straight answer.’

‘Sorry. I’m not trying to be evasive.’ But she’s right. He’s avoiding answering her. The last thing he wants is Chloe keeping an eye on everything he does. ‘Okay, it was Christmas, but it’s getting better. You don’t have to worry about me.’ He reaches out and squeezes her hand. ‘Promise.’

‘Just be careful not to push yourself too hard. You need to look after yourself.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ His mock salute falls a little short. He’s trying to make light of his situation but she’s not buying it. Thankfully she changes the subject and the rest of their dinner is eaten while she talks about her eccentric uncle and some of the meals she had to invent while she was living in Alaska with him. Hearing some of the stories, he’s not surprised she could make what she did from his cupboard stock.

Tate glares at his phone as it vibrates across the counter towards Chloe. He grimaces when he spots Ellen’s name on the screen.

‘Are you going to answer that?’

He’d prefer not to, but he’d already gotten an earful from Ellen for taking so long to get in touch after he was released from rehab. He could do without a replay of that conversation so picks up the phone and tries to sound cheery as he answers. ‘Hey Ellen.’

‘Hey Ellen? Is that it? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days.’

‘Sorry. I was in the studio.’

‘I know that, Tate. That’s why I left numerous messages on your mobile. If you keep ignoring me we’re going to fall out. I guarantee you don’t want that, Tate. I can’t do my job if you go AWOL on me. Do you hear me.’

‘Yeah. Sorry.’

‘Of course you are. Just like the last time. And the time before. Anyway, I need to know if you’re going to the awards?’

‘What awards?’ he asks.

Ellen sighs loudly on the other end of the phone. ‘Have you even read my emails?’

‘What emails?’

‘Why am I not surprised? The awards dinner in London. I’ve only sent you about a dozen emails about it. Broken Chords are up for two awards.’

‘Ah, right. Forgot about that.’

‘Well it’s time you refresh your memory. I want the band there but you’re kind of integral to that. Dillon, Gregg, and Luke have all got back to me, but I need a yes from you too before I confirm. Read your damn emails and let me know if you’re bringing anyone with you.’

‘Listen, I—’

‘No, Tate. I’m going to stop you right there. How about I make this really easy for you. You are going, okay. No arguments. Do you hear me? This is the perfect opportunity to get back out into the public eye without having to face an interview. It’s a dinner. That’s it. You go. Smile at the lovely people. Pose for a few photos. Eat a ridiculously priced meal then come home. Simple. Uncomplicated.’

‘I just don’t think—’

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