“No way is he a saint,” Devon said, rolling her eyes. “I don’t believe it. Half the girls at work like him.”
“Well, you ask him then,” Garrett said with a shrug. “I’ve known a lot of guys with musician complexes. He doesn’t have one.”
“Oh, you’ve known guys with musician complexes?” Devon asked, again rolling her eyes to the ceiling. They could never compare to what she had seen.
“All I’m saying is that Brennan could sleep with any girl here tonight, and he won’t bring any one of them home. At least, I’ve never seen him do it.”
But he brought me home, she thought. She wasn’t going to stick around to find out if it would happen with someone else.
She could see Brennan backstage now, sliding his button-up back on. Soon, he would be back at their table. She couldn’t face him. That song had struck home. The lyrics were so personal and so touching that she felt like he had spoken directly to her. It was as if she had opened up her notebook filled with lyrics and let him read the pages with her heart laid bare in the words. She was the one moving forward, pushing through the pain to find herself once more. And it was then that she felt like the final song had been about her, like it had been written for her. She couldn’t prove it, and she didn’t want to. She couldn’t get more entangled in him than she already was even if Garrett said he wouldn’t make a move…another move.
She would be interested in pursuing her little sliver of hope but not under these circumstances. It wouldn’t be fair to him, or her, or Reid.
She needed to leave before she did something stupid.
“I’m actually not feeling all that well, Garrett.” Devon put her hand on her forehead again. “I wanted to see Brennan’s show, but I think we should probably go. I’ll see him at work this week, and I’ll talk to him there.”
“You sure?” Garrett asked, clearly confused.
“Yeah, I’m ready to go home,” Devon said, feeling like that wasn’t an appropriate name for the apartment she was living in.
She had found her home in Brennan’s music.
Chapter Fifteen - It’s Going Around
“FUCK,” DEVON CRIED, impatiently tapping her pen back and forth on her leg on the train.
An old lady sitting down near Devon glared at her. Devon didn’t have the patience for it right now. She was late for work. It was the first time she had ever been late. What made it worse was she knew that Jenn was going to be in today.
She hadn’t meant to be late. No one ever intended to be late. But she had managed to sleep right through her alarm.
Last night had been the worst dreams she’d ever had. She had woken up twice in the middle of the night with the exact same dream that she’d had a dozen times already, the one where she was being chased through campus. She shuddered even thinking about it. Then, this morning, it had raided her sleep once more and held her hostage through her alarm. Each time she had awoken drenched in sweat or crying her eyes out, remembering the feel of the man’s hands on her as she lay sprawled face-first on the bed. Her hands were shaking now at the thought.
She hadn’t had time to shower or cover up the dark circles under her eyes, and she was pretty sure she looked like shit. It would be just another thing Jenn would love about her showing up late. Jenn didn’t necessarily have a code for appearances at her restaurant, but her idea of looking nice certainly involved a shower and makeup. Devon had done what she could with her mess of hair tangled from her trio of nightmares. Although she would have normally preferred to tame her waves with her straightener, she had only had enough time to run her fingers under the faucet and comb them through her hair.
It wasn’t like Devon had anyone to impress anyway. Jenn could get over it, and Brennan wouldn’t be in anyway. He had called in sick every day since his gig. Jenn hadn’t said what was wrong, but it must have been serious. He never missed work as far as Devon could tell.
She cursed a second time and openly glared back at the old woman until she broke eye contact. Devon was not a woman to be messed with right now. Since Brennan had not come into work, she hadn’t talked to him in four, going on five, days. He probably thought she was a super shitty person for walking out on his show without a word. When she had found out he was sick, she had sent him a text, but she hadn’t received a response. She could only assume he was pissed or deathly ill. Neither were preferable options.
As the train came to a halt, Devon pushed her way through the doors before they opened all the way. She brushed her hair off her face as the heat of the city hit her full-on. She wanted to run straight to Jenn’s, but she knew if she ran, she would be sweating by the time she got there. That wouldn’t help her case any.
Not able to help herself, she rushed down the flight of stairs to the street level. When her phone started ringing loudly in her purse, she cursed again. Now was not the time.
She grabbed the phone out of her purse, stared down at the screen, and sighed. Not the best time, but she had been avoiding her mother for too long.
“Hey, Mama,” Devon said, leaning the phone against her ear as she pushed through the turnstile.
“Hey, honey! How are you? I’ve missed you so much this summer,” she said, gushing like always.
“I’ve been fine. How are you and Dad? How is Dani?” Devon said, asking the requisite questions.
“We’re all great, Dixie.”
Devon rolled her eyes. She would never live down that nickname.
“Your father started a new song that would bring tears to your beautiful blue eyes.”
Devon’s thoughts drifted to another song that had brought tears to her eyes last week. She swallowed down that thought. This would be a good time to ask her parents about helping out Brennan. She opened her mouth to say something, but then she closed it again. How would she explain Brennan when her mom didn’t even know she was in Chicago? Devon cringed.
“I really think this one is going to be a hit. Dani was almost emotional,” her mother said.
“Another sad one?” Devon trotted down the stairs, barely listening to her mom. She didn’t want to think about how she would explain Brennan to her parents, but now, all she was thinking about was how to do it.
“No! It’s so happy that you would just cry with happiness,” her mother said, giddy. “It’s really, truly beautiful.”
“That’s good, Mom,” Devon said dryly.
“We can’t wait to see who the record label chooses for it.”
“Mama, I’m kind of busy. Can we talk later?” Devon said, treading the familiar track to Jenn’s.
“Oh, I’ll just be quick and tell you why I called! So, I bought our plane tickets to New York. I bought one for you—” she began.
“Mom!” Devon whined, drawing the word out as long as she could. “I’m not going.”
“Now, Dixie, be reasonable. It’s refundable just in case you can’t make it, but really, you should be able to make it. It’s a nonstop flight from St. Louis to LaGuardia. I even got first class,” her mother cooed as if that would make up for it.
“Mom!”
“It’s going to be really fun! Your father and I have been nominated for an award, honey!”
“Mom!” Devon tried again.
“It’s going to be so nice to have the whole family back together,” her mom said.
“I’m not going, Mama. I’m too busy.”
“I’ll send you the flight information in an email. Dustin thinks that he and Kelly aren’t going either, but I’ve already sent their itinerary along. I’m sure they’ll come around,” she said, oblivious to Devon’s frustration. “Did you need me to get Reid a ticket as well?”
“No,” Devon said flatly.
“Are you sure? I’d be happy to get one for him, too,” she said in a singsong tone.
“I’m not going, so if you got Reid a ticket, he would be going without me,” Devon said.
“Dixie, please,” her mother said, turning on the waterworks like a light switch.
Devon sighed, hating when her mother did this. She couldn’t deal with this right now.
“I’ve got to go to work. I’ll talk to you some other time,” Devon said hastily.
“Work?” her mom asked.
Devon stopped in the middle of the street. Shit!
She hadn’t meant to say that. She was slipping. Her mother wasn’t even supposed to know that she was working. She needed to come up with something quickly. No one was supposed to know what she was doing. If one person found out, the whole thing would come tumbling down.
“Yeah, I’m just filling in for a friend at a restaurant. They were shorthanded, and I offered to help,” Devon lied, trying to cover up her mistake.
“Do you need extra money, Dixie? I’d be happy to put some into your account,” her mother offered.
“No, I’m fine,” she said quickly.
“I don’t like the thought of you working when you’re already so busy.”
“I just…have to go,” Devon said, cursing herself for f**king up. “Bye, Mom.”
Devon threw her phone back into her purse in frustration. She was already at the back door to Jenn’s, and she needed to get her shit together.
She headed inside and waited for the shitstorm that was likely to surface. Quickly stashing her bag in the break room, she surfaced just in time to see Brennan walk into the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks, surprised to see him. Jenn had said he wouldn’t be in all week, and he still looked pretty sick. What was he doing here?
“Hey,” Devon said, wanting to say something before he did. “Sorry about running out of the show last week. I wasn’t feeling well.”
Brennan shrugged, not looking directly at her. “I guess it’s going around.”
“Yeah, but I feel bad. I should have waited,” she said. “You put on a great show.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I thought it went well.”
He still hadn’t met her gaze. What was up with him?
“I really liked the last song.” She bit her lip, hoping he would look at her.
“I think it still needs some work.”
Devon tried to figure out a different angle. He seemed even more off and withdrawn than normal. “Are you feeling any better? Jenn said you were sick.”
He shrugged again. “I guess. Some. I just came in for my check.” He waved it dismissively in the air.
“Oh. So, you’re not staying?” Her stomach sank.
“Jenn won’t clear me even though I told her it wasn’t that bad. She said I handle food, and she doesn’t want me to contaminate her customers.”
A faint smile touched his face when he finally looked up at her. He really didn’t look good. No wonder Jenn was sending him home.
“That sucks,” she said, not sure what else to say.
He felt so far away. Through his music, she felt like they had connected on a different level, one that even she couldn’t figure out. Yet, she had left, and now, it was like he was an empty vessel.