The Hardest Set (Willow Son #4/Brothers of Rock #19) (12 page)

“
Look,
you didn
’
t have to do what
you did,
”
Natalie said.
“
I
’
m
sure it looked really bad
…”

“
What?
The eviction notice?
”

“
Yeah.
That
’
s not who I am.
”

“
But
it was on your table.
”

“
You
went through my private stuff.
”

“
I
wouldn
’
t say that,
”
Van said. He leaned back against
his chair.
“
I mean, it wasn
’
t like I went through your panty
drawer. Picked out my favorite little thong. Let me guess
…
you look like you
’
d wear some hot pink, neon green
kind of colors. Subtle on the outside but wild on the inside.
”

“
You
’
re a real jerk.
”

“
Hey,
you don
’
t have to accept
anything,
”
Van said.
“
I saw something and I tried to
be nice. Then you
’
re pissed
at me. Exactly why I didn
’
t
want to even get involved.
”

“
Get
involved? Meaning what? Yelling at me? Accusing me of things when you know nothing
about me?
”

“
All
the same, sweetie,
”
Van
said.
“
That
’
s why I do what I do.
”

“
Which
is what? Sleep with a new woman every night?
”

“
Exactly,
”
Van said.
“
Except last night. Your loss.
”

Natalie gasped. She felt her
nostrils flare. The waiter came over to the table and Natalie ordered a stiff
drink. Vodka, no ice. Her eyes never left Van
’
s
eyes. There was something hidden in there. Something Natalie had no business
dealing with, but she was a sucker for anything broken.

Just like when you met Mark. And
he told you he was on the outs with his wife. How he just wanted to feel
passion again. How when he looked into your eyes, he felt that spark. How he
touched your hair and asked if it was okay to kiss
…
how he justified that in
his heart he was already divorced, so it didn
’
t matter
…

“
I
took a picture of your drawing on the table,
”
Van said.
“
That
’
s really amazing work.
”

“
Thanks,
”
Natalie said.
“
I used to teach art at a private
school. It got shut down because of funding problems. That
’
s why things are a little crazy
right now. I
’
m not just
someone who doesn
’
t pay
their rent. Okay?
”

“
I
didn
’
t ask a question about
it,
”
Van said.
“
I know what that
’
s like, okay? We used to crash
anywhere we could. That
’
s
just the way it goes sometimes.
”

“
Yeah,
but I
’
m not looking for a
record deal,
”
Natalie said.
“
I don
’
t think they do that for artists
like me.
”

“
Says
who? I
’
m sure you
’
ll get another job or figure
something out.
”

“
Right
now, my plan was to get settled on my rent.
”

“
Which
is done. So what
’
s next?
”

“
I
don
’
t know,
”
Natalie said.
“
Work with Andrea some more. She
owns the catering company. That
’
s
why I was at the party.
”

“
My
lucky night,
”
Van said.

“
Yeah,
so lucky.
”

Van finished his drink and leaned
forward.
“
So tell me what
has your heart broken, sweetie?
”

“
Why
don
’
t you tell me first,
”
Natalie said.
“
You seem really upset about
something.
”

“
It
doesn
’
t matter.
”

Natalie saw anger wash over Van
’
s face. His eyes were hurt
though. It was kind of sexy because she felt the same way. She wanted to know
everything.

“
What
if I said it matters to me?
”
Natalie asked.
“
Do me a
favor
…”

“
A
favor?
”
Van asked with a
smile.
“
Sweetie, I
’
ve done you enough favors. I
gave you a chance to escape your life for a minute. Anyone in this restaurant
would give their arm for the same thing. And I
’
m
sitting here with you right now.
”

“
You
’
re full of yourself,
”
Natalie said.
“
It doesn
’
t impress me.
”

“
Yes
it does. That
’
s why you
’
re here. You want it. You just
asked me questions about myself. Why? Because you can
’
t talk about yourself? Too worried about the truth?
”

Natalie felt her hands ball up into
fists. Rockstar, celebrity, whatever, this guy wasn
’
t worth the time right now.

“
Um,
excuse me?
”

Natalie turned and saw a woman
standing at the table. She looked terrified.

“
Yeah?
”
Van asked.

“
You
’
re Van from Willow Son. Ohmygod
…”

“
That
’
s me,
”
Van said.
“
This
is my friend, Natalie. She
’
s
not my girlfriend though. Not even my friend, really. She likes to take things
from me.
”

Natalie was mortified.

“
Uh,
okay,
”
the woman said.
“
Can I take a picture with you?
”

“
Clothes
on or off?
”
Van asked.

The woman giggled and her face
turned apple red.
“
Uh
…”

Van stood up.
“
Come here, darling.
”
He slid his hand around the
woman
’
s waist and pulled
her close. His eyes, however, stayed right with Natalie.

Is he trying to make me jealous?

The woman took out her cell and
took a picture with Van.

“
Have
a good night,
”
Van said.

“
I
can
’
t believe this,
”
the woman said.
“
I
’
m
such a big fan.
”

“
Okay.
Go break some hearts, darling.
”

Van sat back down.

The waiter returned with two
drinks. One for Van. One for Natalie.

“
Sorry,
”
Van said.
“
That happens a lot. I gave her
up for you, sweetie. So I could sit here and not hear you talk.
”

“
I
don
’
t get it,
”
Natalie said.
“
What do you want from me? I
’
m a waitress, caterer, artist
person. There is nothing interesting about me. You were drunk and mean and I
helped you because I was worried you were going to end up hurt or in jail. Then
you invited me to dinner
…”

“
You
text me,
”
Van said.
“
You couldn
’
t let me go, Natalie.
”

“
That
’
s what you think?
”
Natalie asked.
“
Hardly, Van. Just because you
’
re some rockstar doesn
’
t mean you own everyone. Sorry.
”

“
I
got you here, didn
’
t I? And
I
’
m just asking you who you
are. I look at you and I can see right through it all. So who did you hurt? I
know you have a story waiting. Just to prove me right.
”

Natalie pushed away from the table.
“
This was a mistake, Van. I
wanted to just thank you for what you did. I
’
ll
pay you back then. I don
’
t
want your money. I don
’
t
care if you
’
re rich. You
’
re an ass. I
’
m sorry for what happened to
you. That she hurt you.
”

Van pointed at Natalie.
“
What did I say to you about it?
”

“
Nothing.
You don
’
t want to hear
about yourself.
”

“
Dammit,
”
Van growled.
“
Don
’
t act like this because you
’
re trying to be tough around someone famous. Take
your fucking story and leave then.
”

Natalie grabbed her drink. Part of
her wanted to slam the entire thing back. But then she wouldn
’
t be able to drive. So she did
the next best thing
…

She threw it Van
’
s face.

“
Have
another drink,
”
she said.

That caught the attention of
everyone in the restaurant.

Natalie turned and left, trying to
hide her face as people were pointing, staring. A few even had the nerve to
take their phones out and try to snap a picture or two. Of course, this had to
be a big deal, right?

It couldn
’
t ever just be two people meeting and talking.
Trouble had to be everywhere.

Natalie drove away, her heart
racing. She gripped the steering wheel tight and thought about what to do next.

Flirting with trouble was one
thing, but flirting with demons was another.

Don
’
t do it
…
don
’
t text him
…

**

Van wiped his face and gritted his
teeth. He knew he should have chased after her. Maybe even offered a little
apology for being a jerk. He liked the way Natalie made him feel. She chased
stuff away. But Van didn
’
t
want that. Maybe he liked the pain. The suffering. The old memories just
rolling around in his mind, back and forth, with nowhere to go.

Standing, Van threw money on the
table and finished his drink.

All eyes were on him. A few people
shouted his name.

“
Damn,
”
he whispered.

He quickly turned and darted out
the back of the restaurant. He got into a car and the driver took him wherever
he wanted to go.

Which is where? Where do I want
to go?

Van felt like there was no true
home. His dream of being on the road was the closest thing to home. Seeing the
fans, traveling, keeping distance between today and tomorrow. That was comfort.
That was home.

Sitting on a couch with a beer and
some mindless TV show, Van couldn
’
t
take much more of it. The memories were riding through his mind hard and fast.
Every now and again he
’
d
see Natalie though. The way she sat next to him when he was drunk. He
remembered staring at her nice ass as she walked away to her car. Then she came
back. That was her first mistake. She shouldn
’
t
have come back. And she definitely shouldn
’
t
have text him.

“
No
way, sweetie,
”
Van
whispered.

He grabbed his phone and scrolled
to the number that was Vanessa
’
s
new one.
Engaged.
That
’
s
where it all ended up. Didn
’
t
the ring mean anything to her? Didn
’
t
that promise mean anything?

Van felt his fingers flirting with
the screen, like he was going to make a really bad decision. A text. A call.
Squeezing just a little bit more out of his heart for Vanessa to have and
crush.

“
No,
”
Van said.

He tossed the phone to the table
and walked to his second bedroom. He had an array of guitars, basses, and
pieces of instruments, - a total musician junkie
’
s
paradise. The best part was Van paid dearly to have the entire place
soundproofed. That meant Van could do anything he wanted as loud as he wanted.

Of all the instruments to go after,
he chose an old beat up acoustic guitar. The strings were old and twangy. The
action was killer on his fingers. But it was a memorable guitar. He paid fifty
bucks for it from a small music shop outside LA one night. Then he got drunk
and wrote a song that he could never remember. In his mind though it was the
best song ever.