Touch Me (25 page)

“It’s okay.” Lucy, equally miserable-looking, touched her twin’s arm. “It’s okay.”

The boy swallowed, hard, glanced at Payne then glanced back at the floor. “I thought…I thought if there was some petty vandalism going on Payne and everyone would think some punks were behind the attempted break-ins and the stolen items.”

Tears poured over Lucy’s cheeks. “Jeb…”

He snuck another look at Payne. “And I thought since I was the one most likely assigned to clean up the mess, that it wasn’t so very terrible.”

Clever, Payne thought, and a stupid kid move at the same time. “I suspect you know who
is
responsible for what’s been going on, Jeb.”

He went back to addressing the floor. “Maylo. He was the one trying to get in those times when the security people called you.”

Lucy sobbed again. “But I’m the one who stole the missing parts,” she confessed, burying her face in her hands.

“Because her stupid boyfriend Maylo told her to,” Jeb finished.

The twins’ parents went ballistic after that. Weary, Payne took the seat behind the desk letting the family verbally duke it out without him. Like the rest of the Rock Royalty, Walsh was excellent at tuning out mayhem too, and he walked around the knot of unhappy, arguing people to hitch a hip on the desk. They shared a grimace.

“Thoughts?” Walsh asked, his voice low.

“Decision.” Payne shoved a hand through his hair. “No police. Yeah, it lets that shitheel, Maylo, off the hook, but it keeps Jeb and Lucy out of formal trouble.”

“Appreciate that. I’ll be talking to Maylo myself.” He glanced over his shoulder, taking in his admin who stood near her siblings, her expression hidden by her glasses and too-long bangs. “And you’ll make Honey happy.”

Payne watched the woman step in and firmly tell her parents she was taking the teens home with her for the night. Her gaze met Payne’s and he gave her a nod. “If the kids want to work off their debt for the damage and the missing parts,” he told Walsh, “I’m okay with that.”

“Generous, man,” Walsh said.

“Kids are still learning,” he answered, as the parents exited the office, the teens and Honey trailing behind. “Figuring stuff out.”

Both he and Walsh followed the family to the open door, watching as they went down the pathway to the street. Though the Jeb and Lucy were glum and silent, their mom and dad had brought their bickering to a new decibel level. “It’s your fault they’re turning into criminals,” the man said. “You’re too soft on them.”

“
My
fault?” the woman responded, her voice icy as she approached a silver sedan. “Who’s the liar? Who’s the cheat?” She opened the driver’s side door and directed her attention to her twins. “Watch out kids, or you’ll become just like your father.”

Just like your father.

The phrase echoed in Payne’s head, over and over and over.
Just like your father. Just like your father. Just like your father.

It pulled him straight back to the past, to those miserable weekends with his mother, when he was sucked into her emotional undertow. A liar, a cheat, a faithless degenerate.
Just like your father. Just like your father. Just like your father.
His head pounded, his stomach soured, and his mouth felt like he’d eaten a spoon of dirt.

Just like your father.

Fuck. It. With his calm blown to smithereens, he half-turned and kicked the metal door.

Then he turned back.

“Jeb! Lucy!” Payne shouted. Their parents were already driving off, but the teens were at Honey’s car, ready to climb in. They looked over, expressions wary.

He strode close, still agitated. “You’re kids, okay? Teenagers.”

The brother and sister glanced at each other, shrugged.

“That means you’re works-in-progress, right?” Payne continued, over that ugly thrum in his head. “Don’t allow yourself to be defined by others’ assumptions, or your mistakes, or what your parents say today or any other day. You get to be you and you get time to figure out who that might be.”

And who it was not.

The sour in his belly mixed with the dirty taste in his mouth. The pounding persisted in his skull, but over that he still heard the low voice in his head, whispering a new thought.

Not just like your father.

Chapter Fourteen

“Surprise!” Rose called out at the same moment as six of the Rock Royalty and their sundry connections yelled the word—just as Payne swung open his front door. He stepped inside, Reed at his heels, his gaze taking in the happy face helium balloons tied to bar stools, the spread of food and drink on every flat surface, and the big banner hanging from the pendant lights over the kitchen island that read “He’s Well!”

When Payne blinked, then laughed, Cilla dug her elbow into Rose’s side and gave her a thumbs up. “Perfect idea,” the other woman whispered.

Looking around at the smiling faces, Rose nodded. That’s what she’d been after when planning this party. A perfect ending to Payne’s convalescence. A perfect conclusion to her weeks as his assistant. A perfect point from which she’d move on with her life.

Questions were thrown out and Payne confirmed that he’d indeed been given the all clear from his doctor. Then Reed handed him a cold beer and Cilla passed him a plate filled with slices of cold sub sandwich and some of each of the salads and while Payne was thanking the other woman, his eyes were on Rose.

She didn’t know what to make of the quizzical expression in them.

Yesterday had been his tuxedo shopping day, so they hadn’t seen each other. Today, Reed had been tapped to get Payne to his medical appointment and to stall him by taking him out for a congratulatory beer so Rose could put together the feast and the guests could get to his house after work.

Did he wish she wasn’t there? It was true that things had been awkward between them during their last face-to-face. But she’d agreed not to love him.

And also called him an idiot.

Some of the perfection leeched from the day.

Still, she went about pretending everything was fine by encouraging people to eat, fetching beverages, and volunteering to be the designated lifeguard as Cleo’s boys splashed in the shallow end of Payne’s pool.

Cami joined her on the double-wide lounge chair, sipping a beer and offering up the contents of her bowl of pretzels and chips. “You hear what happened at your salvage yard last night?”

“It’s not
my
—”

“Payne caught Jeb spraying graffiti in some lame-ass strategy to throw suspicion off Lucy who was the one who stole those missing parts…at the behest of the loser boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Rose clapped her palm to her forehead, remembering what she’d told the boy.
Maybe you’ll have to take the heat. You might have to be the stand-up guy who saves Lucy from herself.
Her mood lowered at the idea that she’d had a hand in what had happened. “I should…”

Glancing around, she caught sight of Payne inside the house. “Will you do me a favor? Watch Obie and Eli?”

“Sure.”

Determined to confess her part in the petty crime and to find out if he wanted her to take off, she moved directly toward him. But before she arrived, he snagged the arm of Ren who was passing by. “Can we talk?” she heard Payne murmur.

Rose hurried past them and busied herself at the sink, waiting for her turn. Though she turned on the water to rinse some dishes, their conversation still reached her.

“I went over the line yesterday,” Payne told his brother. “Accept my apology.”

“You’re ordering me around now?”

“Hey.” There was exasperation in Payne’s voice. “You were in my face. My business.”

“I should leave your head up your ass?” Ren answered, not the least bit conciliatory.

Rose glanced over, saw Payne step closer to the other man. A muscle ticked in his jaw and she saw his fingers clench into a fist and his arm rise.

Great, so much for throwing the perfect party. Throwing punches was coming next.

“Shut up,” Payne said. “Just shut up.”

The other guests were turning, their attention snagged by the brewing altercation. Walsh strode over to stand with Ren. Reed had Payne’s back. The other Rock Royalty began closing in. Over their shoulders, Rose could see Cami craning her neck to catch the action.

Then Cilla came bouncing up, pushing her way through Bing and Brody, as if oblivious to the tension. A thick magazine in her hands, she walked right between her fiancé and his brother. “I have found the perfect monkey suit for you two!”

“You need to find one fit for a jackass,” Ren said.

Payne’s face flushed. “That’s it.” he began, taking another step forward.

Reed caught his arm. “Take it easy,” he said, his gaze darting between the two men.

“Tell him that,” Payne said through clenched teeth, jerking his chin toward his brother, “Tell him to lay off, or else.”

Ren didn’t seem the least bit threatened. “I’m not apologizing for caring about you, asshole,” he said.

“Getting in my face is caring now?”

“Yeah, it is,” Ren replied. “If that’s what it takes to prevent you from self-destructing.”

Payne hauled in a breath. “I’m not self-destructing!”

“Hasn’t our sister seen enough of that kind of crap?” Ren said, his voice rough. “Haven’t we all seen enough of that kind of crap?”

“You’re way off the mark.” Steam was practically coming out of Payne’s ears. “I’m not—”

“Don’t you get it?” Ren shouted.

“Get what?” Payne shouted back.

“That I love you, man.” Ren shoved a hand through his hair. “You’re my family.”

The room—and everyone in it—seemed to hold its breath. Then the steel in Payne’s spine dissolved and he barked out a harsh laugh. “Fuck you, Ren, that’s playing dirty.”

Cilla laughed too, and Payne pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the top of her head. “Your man’s going to be a trial to us. He truly is.”

All the rest of the tension in the atmosphere evaporated. Rose relaxed as people went back to eating and drinking. Payne wandered out toward the pool, and she let him get away. Her own conversation with him could wait. Let the party gear back up to a happy place.

She thought it was almost there when a whirlwind entered the entertaining space. At the sound of the front door crashing closed, Rose looked over to see Honey Brooks in yoga gear. She blinked, but her vision remained the same. While she’d only seen the woman in dowdy businesswear before, clothes that completely disguised her figure, now she had on a pretty pastel pair of yoga pants with a matching, tight-fitting hoodie on top. Waving to get Honey’s attention, Rose smiled. “Hey, can I get you something to eat or drink?”

The other woman’s face turned her way. Rose instinctively stepped back, as waves of anger rolled toward her.

“Where is he?” Honey demanded.

“Um…Payne?” She glanced around.

“Pfft,” Honey said, flicking that name away. “Walsh.”

“Are you looking for me?” The man strolled forward, urbane in his dark olive suit. He’d removed his tie and undone a button at the collar, but he still looked like the sophisticated, powerful businessman he was. “Is there a problem?” he asked calmly.

“Not if you’ll accept this,” Honey replied, brandishing a piece of paper in his face.

Without missing a beat, he plucked it from her, then tore it in half with a dramatic rip. The pieces fluttered to the ground.

Honey looked at them, then back at Walsh, who appeared as bothered as if he’d batted away a fly. “That’s my formal resignation letter. I just typed that up since you said ‘Not happening’ when I texted you the news earlier today.”

“You now know my response is the same to your ‘formal’ resignation letter as well.”

Honey trembled with apparent temper. “Did you read it?”

“If you can’t see what I did, then maybe you need to get new glasses.” Walsh brushed at a piece of non-existent lint on his lapel.

Her mouth agape, his admin stared up at him. Then she swiped off her heavy pair of lenses and dashed them to the floor where she stomped on them with a sneaker-clad foot. Then her fingers forked through her heavy bangs to hold them away from her face, all the better to glare at her boss. “I can see just fine!”

“Then I’ll expect you in the office at the usual time Monday morning,” Walsh said, and apparently unperturbed, strolled to the back yard, shutting the glass door behind him.

Her hand still fisted in her hair, Honey let out a frustrated half-shriek, then turned and stormed out the front of the house.

A moment of silence followed. Then Cilla said, “Wow.” She looked over at Alexa, who nodded in silent communication.

“Has anyone actually ever seen that much of her face before?” Cleo asked in a loud whisper. “And those eyes?”

“I noticed her tits,” Brody said, then added “What?” when his sister threw a balled-up napkin at him.

“I believe it’s makeover time,” Alexa said, then grinned. “This is going to be fun.”

Rose wasn’t so sure. She’d sort of had a makeover by returning to L.A., and every moment had not been fun.

No one spoke her same misgivings, however, so as the party ramped up again, she went along with the buoyant mood. That meant she avoided Payne, because though he continued to send her glances from afar, she just didn’t feel like ruining the perfection that was reforming before her eyes.

She didn’t feel like doing anything to disturb the camaraderie she experienced with the rest of the group. For the moment, these people were feeling like her friends. So she chatted, and ate, and sipped a glass of wine, and threw away paper plates and cleaned empty serving platters and soon enough found it was night and she was one of the remaining stragglers.

Her last job as Payne’s assistant, she’d decided, was to deal with the detritus of the party she’d planned. So she was once again in the kitchen when he walked the last other guest, his sister, to the front door. Once again, even over the water rushing from the faucet, Rose couldn’t miss the conversation.

“Love you, Payne,” Cami said.

He sounded faux-annoyed. “Christ, is this our new normal? Because if so, I’m going to find myself a different family.”