19
Lyla
Walking into the studio, I’m prepping myself to say all the right things. All the things Marcus needs to hear about Cole. I’m riding a happy high until I’m stopped by Mason five doors down from Marcus’ office.
“Hey, Lyla, I’m really sorry but Marcus asked me to not let you inside. He’s under a lot of pressure to produce this new album for Simone and with you two fighting, he doesn’t want you here right now.”
“What the actual fuck Mason?” I am legitimately stunned that he would block me like this. “I just wanted to talk. I want to make up. I don’t want to be fighting right now or ever.”
“You guys have been tight forever; I’m sure it’ll blow over, but for right now, today anyway, I can’t let you inside or he’ll cut my head off. I’m sorry, boo, I really am.”
Tears rush to my eyes, but my pride would not let them fall. I tip my chin up high and turn on my heel, rushing for the door to escape this dagger that is slicing through my heart. This isn’t over. I’ll wear Marcus down. I will be back every day after he finishes the album. He will be happy for us.
* * *
I meetCole at a restaurant rebuild and start going through the motions. I help pick tile and granite countertops, chat up the foreman and introduce myself to the owner. He knows who I am, says he’s a fan. A part of me feels embarrassed of what my reputation has become, but Dane, the owner and head chef, seems to be genuinely happy to meet me.
We find ourselves in the only working part of the kitchen, and he shows me his soon-to-be menu. He bought the place from the daughter of the former owner who passed away and had big ambitions to make it the next five-star restaurant in San Diego, complete with rooftop bar and lounge. I give him credit; he has great ideas and an appealing menu.
“This all looks great, Dane, but how’s the food?”
“Would you try some? Hold this.” He excitedly hands me the iPad he was using to show me his plans. Quickly he whips out a mixing bowl, salmon, a few spices, and what looks to be caviar. The eggs go into a small bowl with sugar and a few other things and the fish is laid gently on the now warm burner. It’s fun watching him work, but I find myself not wanting to join in. For the first time since I can remember, I have no desire to cook.
My mind drifts to Cole and the retail warehouse project until a plate of amazing smelling food and glass full of wine are put in front of me. The food tastes even better, and I praise Dane to the highest of my ability and promise to be back regularly to enjoy more of his genius.
When Cole is finished, we head out the door hand in hand.
“How was the food?”
“Even better than I imagined,” I replied without hesitation as we walked down the sidewalk.
“Did you show the kid a few tricks?”
“Kid? Dane is a year older than we are, and no, I was happy to just be fed.” Smiling up at Cole, he looks skeptical. “I promise, I realized tonight I do miss it, but not the way Dane wants. I don’t want fame or glory. I want simple and small. Maybe someday I’ll open a small deli or something. Warehouse 39 took so much of my life away, and it was all for everyone else. After everything that’s happened, I’m happy right where I am. I was thinking about work and came up with a few ideas to pitch to Sam and Elliott tomorrow. Like maybe breaking down that left wall and creating some kick-ass dressing rooms out of other material like some of the distressed wood you have from the beach shack you did last year. I noticed the scraps on one of your other sites, and one of the guys there said they weren’t going to use it.”
“Damn, you’re sexy when you talk like that.”
I laugh as he wraps me under his arm and leans down for a perfect kiss.
* * *
Late that nightas we lay in Cole’s bed together, hours after he’s fallen asleep, my mind finally drifts to all the chaos in front of me. I’m happy but my life is still in ruins. I have a great job I love, a man who is beyond anything I could have dreamed up if I had created him out clay myself. Kind, attentive, affectionate, and fucking mind-blowing in bed. He’s the entire package, and yet he’s the reason I’ve lost my best friend.
Taking a deep breath, I wiggle my way out of his arms. I have no idea what time it is, so I grab my phone and head to the hallway bathroom. I’ve been staying in Cole’s room since the night of the fight, and Marcus hasn’t been back at all. Charlie said he’s been staying in one of the upstairs studio apartments at Record 39 where she lives along with the new artist, Simone. Apparently, she’s a real diva, so he doesn’t have the time to deal with our crumbling friendship. I find no missed calls or texts from him but four from an unknown caller.
“Time is up, Ms Turner.”
“You don’t have to answer me. I will find you.”
Creepy old man. So much has happened I almost forgot.
“I will have Howard’s blood, or I will have yours.”
“See you soon.”
Fuck. My hands shake as I read every message over again three more times.
“Baby, what are you doing on the bathroom floor? Shit, Lyla, are you okay?”