Things Lost In The Fire (25 page)

“Thanks.” Sadie slipped away on shaky legs and tried not to feel embarrassed. Of course that’s why they needed her name. It’s not like this was her first time ordering coffee.

Resigned that she was being beyond stupid, she found a secluded spot near the back counter and waited beside a rack of coffee packages for her drink order. She avoided all contact with the others in the room, not wanting to give anyone a reason to talk to her.

When her drink was finally ready, she grabbed it and retreated to a tiny table in the front corner of the coffee shop near the window. It was close enough to the door for her to feel like she could escape if she needed to, but tucked back far enough that no one should bother her.

She sat down and grabbed a book from her purse,
An Introvert’s Guide to Being Extroverted
. She sipped her coffee while she read, her sunglasses still perched on her nose. Slowly but surely, all thoughts of her mother faded from her mind.

She felt more than saw someone take a seat at the table beside her, in a chair that was only a few feet from her own. The light scent of cologne flooded her senses, prompting her to cast a curious glance at the stranger. It was a man, roughly her age, with shoulder length waves of russet hair. He wore all black—tight jeans and a button up shirt that strained against attractive arms decorated with tattoos. When he tilted his head to catch her eye, she was startled by his poetic beauty and the stunning blue of his eyes. Day old stubble graced his jaw line and cheeks, enhancing the rawboned look of his face.

A shy smile crept over his features, only intensifying his beauty. “Hi.”

Sadie flushed and looked back at her book, pretending to be too busy for conversation. “Hey.”

For a moment she thought maybe the beautiful stranger had gotten the hint that she wanted to be left alone. But when he spoke again, she realized she’d made a huge mistake by going there.

“I love your music,” he said, his voice soft and deep and filled with admiration. She bit back an awkward smile and nodded in his direction.

“Thank you.”

“Are you saving that seat for someone? Do you mind if I sit with you?”

She looked up at him, startled by his question, but he was already shifting to her table. He sat down across from her with his own cup of coffee and grinned.

“You’re even more beautiful in person.”

Sadie felt her mind successfully drain of all thought. “Um, thanks.”

He sipped his coffee and eyed the book she was reading with great interest. “I suppose living up in Lake Tahoe all these years has made you quite the introvert, huh?”

“I guess.” She slipped her bookmark back in place and set aside the book, realizing she wasn’t going to get to read. She knew she needed to come up with an excuse to leave without being rude, but couldn’t process anything beyond the extremely good looking man sitting in front of her. Something about him was oddly familiar, like she’d seen his face in a magazine or something.

“I’m Drew, by the way.” He extended his hand, warmth flashing in his eyes.

She accepted it numbly, unsure what she was even doing there. “Sadie. Oh, duh. You know that.” She tried to laugh but only felt pathetic. God, she was going to have to get better with this public relations thing if she wanted to be in the industry.

He laughed and released her hand. “I’d know you anywhere, Sadie McRae.”

“That’s great…just great,” she murmured, twirling a piece of hair around her fingertip. She avoided his eyes and drank her coffee, wishing she felt more protected by her sunglasses. “Listen, you’re not a reporter, are you? Because I already have one of those.”

Amusement softened his features. “No, I’m just a fan.”

“Okay, cool.” She blushed, feeling horrendously out of place. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Will you be doing more shows? I was sad to find out I’d missed the first one.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know yet.”

“I hope you’ll make a big announcement when you do,” he said, brushing back his length of hair. He seemed just as nervous as she was, which helped put her at ease.

“We’ll see.” She lifted her cup to her lips for lack of something better to do, still trying to come up with a reason to leave. “So what do you do?”

“I paint,” Drew replied, flashing that brilliant smile at her. “It helps relieve the tension, you know?”

“I do.” She started to remove her sunglasses, only to second guess herself and leave them on. “What kinds of things do you like to paint?”

“Mostly abstract stuff. It’s a bit dark, actually,” he admitted, seeming embarrassed by it. “I had a pretty messed up childhood.”

His words clicked with her and she smiled sweetly. “I understand that.”

He nodded, thankfully not pursuing the topic of her childhood the way most would have. Instead, he launched into a discussion of favorite bands and styles of music. He confessed to never really liking Albatross, in spite of their popularity. Something about his honesty charmed her. It took guts to tell the daughter of rock stars that he didn’t like her parents’ music. But then again, it was exactly what she needed to hear.

“So you grew up here in L.A.?” she asked, resting her chin on her palm with her elbow on the table. She leaned in, captivated by him, so much so that everyone else in the room seemed to melt away.

“No, Seattle.” Drew pushed his coffee cup back and forth between his hands. “I just recently moved here.”

“So did I. But you already knew that, too,” she replied with a laugh.

He only smiled. “If it’s not too presumptuous, can I give you my number?”

Her lips parted in surprise. “Sure. I guess.”

He reached into his pants pocket for a pen, then awkwardly grabbed her hand. He jotted his number down on her palm.

“I’d like to see you again. I know that’s probably not possible, but—”

“Maybe we can.” Sadie gathered her book and purse, rising to her feet. He stood up as well, and she realized then just how tall he was. She rocked back on her heels, her skin still tingling from where his hand had touched hers.

“Great,” he replied.

She bit back a smile and waved goodbye to him, closing her palm tightly to hide the number he’d scribbled onto her skin. It took her back to being a teenager, and how it felt to like a boy at school.

This wasn’t anything like that, though, she reminded herself. He was a nice guy and a fan, but still so much a stranger. Who knew what his motives really were?

Paranoid, much?
Sadie grimaced, climbing into her car. She stared down at her palm and sighed, wondering what she was going to do with this newfound fame.

A
CROSS TOWN Brody was busy taking out his frustrations on a defenseless boxing bag. He’d worked up a sweat throwing punches and vicious upper-cuts, his mind focused on the contact and not on the burning in his shoulders and biceps. The pain took a backseat to everything else, because as much as he wanted to clear his mind he was finding it impossible.

Sadie was still there. Hell, she was always there these days. He couldn’t get rid of her, couldn’t find a moment’s peace from the nagging thoughts of how to help her or just what it meant now that she was back.

What did it mean, anyway? So she was back in town for awhile, what did that really matter to him? Why did he care so much about seeing her, about helping her? Sure, there was the hopeful possibility of a hard-hitting story that he could sell to the right people and get an ounce of his reputation back, but other than that why was she constantly on his mind?

She mattered to him. Somehow, by coming back into his life she’d reminded him of what it felt like to care for someone other than himself. He’d gone so long being selfish and carefree, and now it all seemed so recklessly pointless. He needed a mission, a purpose. He needed someone to look out for.

And that was exactly the problem.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath as he threw one final blow to the bag, collapsing against it in a heap of exhaustion. His chest heaved as he drew in air, closing his eyes so he could salvage some manner of clarity. There was no way in hell any of this was good for him. Needing Sadie,
wanting
her…he couldn’t do it. The very thought terrified him.

He lowered himself onto a nearby metal bench, grabbing his towel. He wiped his face and neck with it, still sucking in air and working to settle his racing heart. The black sleeveless shirt he wore clung to his skin, hot and slick with sweat. It, and the thoughts racing through his mind, made him feel horribly suffocated.

All around him the gym bustled with muscular men and over-tanned women, all vying for an impossible perfection. In L.A., nothing was prized more than vanity. Sadie didn’t belong here, he knew. She was better than any of the Barbies and Kens with their cruel gossip and petty vices. She had more class in her little finger than the whole of them combined.

She really should just go back home, he realized. Find a way to make music back in Tahoe, maybe do a couple shows a year, but get the hell out of Los Angeles before it corrupted her. Before it sucked out every last ounce of loveliness she possessed and left her as empty as the rest of them. As empty as he was. Cynical and battered and lost in an unforgiving sea of sins and arrogance.

He lifted a bottle of water to his lips and drank, disgusted with the entire state of things. Even then, he caught a glimpse of a television displaying the news out of the corner of his eye. Video of Valerie leaving a local restaurant with her entourage in tow filled the screen, and he despised knowing she’d exposed her daughter for her own publicity.

Then again, what was he was doing, exactly? Just like Tess said, he was using Sadie for his own selfish gains. No matter how much he tried to sugar coat it and shield himself from the truth, the reality was he
was
in it for the story. He was always in it for the story. He was a goddamn reporter, willing to sell his soul to expose whatever truths people didn’t want exposed. How was it any different with Sadie? Her story was huge and he knew it, and he had a direct link to the source. That put him in a position to reap rewards most journalists would kill for.

That feeling of slimy disgust rolled over him again, reminding him of his weakness for her. He’d always had a weakness for her, even eleven years ago. It made doing his job without feeling guilty nearly impossible. She claimed she wanted to learn the truth about Walker’s death too, but like Tess pointed out, had she really considered the damage it could cause? The additional press that might hinder her attempts at doing what she loved, singing?

The truth was important, there was no doubting that. But maybe, just maybe, he was in over his head in thinking that he should be the one to find it. For thinking he
could
find it without hurting Sadie in some way.

Then again, she was going to suffer regardless. There was no way out of her situation now that she was in it and she seemed to understand that. So why was he having such a hard time coming to terms with it? Why did just the thought of hurting her tear him up inside?

Because she mattered, he thought again. She mattered so much more than he wanted her to.

He looked back to the wall-mounted television above the punching bag, reading the subtitled words the reporter was saying. What he read had his brows creasing as he rose to attention, forgetting everything else.

“
The police may have a new lead on the Walker investigation and are exhausting their efforts to at last solve the mystery of what happened to Sadie McRae, daughter of rock band Albatross’s lead singers Ben McRae and Valerie Ryan. Drummer Lee Walker’s violent attack on Sadie McRae happened over eleven years ago in Valerie Ryan’s Hollywood Hills home, and has remained the subject of controversy ever since. Now it appears investigators are looking deeper into members of the band itself, and soon we may have some much-needed answers.
”

Members of the band. Did that mean they considered a member of the band to be the shooter? With Sadie’s insistence that it wasn’t Tommy, and with Valerie reportedly being too tossed that night to walk a straight line, that left only one other band member who was present.

Georgina Harris. Girlfriend of Lee Walker and back-up singer slash keyboard player that had never made a secret of her jealousy of Valerie Ryan. Why hadn’t he considered her before? It made sense—too much sense. If Georgina had walked in on Lee attempting to rape Sadie, in her disgust and anger she very likely could have pulled the trigger. And to save her own skin and cause Valerie as much harm as possible, she’d wiped the gun and fled the scene, washing away any evidence before the police had the chance to catch up with her.