Second Fiddle Flirt (Cajun Two-Step Novellas Book 1) Page 6

Robin’s face remained unreadable as she took another sip and studied Lauren. Before she could respond, Kelsey walked in with a tall, gorgeous black man in a fedora.

  “Lauren, this is Eric, our bass. Eric, this is Lauren. She’s maybe going to fill in for Camille.” Kelsey cleared her throat. “For a bit.”

  “Maybe.” Lauren shook Eric’s hand and threw a cautious glance at Robin, who remained impassive since Lauren’s declaration.

  “Nice to meet you, Lauren. I’m the token penis.” His voice was deep and smooth, a charming contrast to the lighthearted joke. “Thanks for taking over the position of New Member.” He flashed a smile that Lauren was sure had been the doom of many a woman. Particularly a purple-streaked drummer.

  Robin did a double take at Eric. “Nice hat.”

  He slid his fingers along the rim of his hat and gave a sly smile. “Me, too.” He did a little mini-dance and twirled his lanky, but solid frame in a tight spin in the middle of Robin’s kitchen. “It fits my mood this week.”

  Robin smacked her hand on the counter, causing everyone in the room to jump. She smiled, and with an enthusiastic voice said, “Well, the gang’s all here, so let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Chapter 7

  Robin led the way to an old workshop behind the house that she’d converted into a rehearsal space. It was a large, cozy room with windows and a few paintings from local artists. Several large area rugs covered the painted concrete floor, and acoustic foam hung in various places on the walls and ceiling to minimize the sound bouncing around the room.

  “Wow, this is nice,” Lauren said.

  A drum kit was already set up in the back of the room on a maroon rug and an upright bass leaned against the corner in a soft case. Eric and Kelsey settled in back there, while Robin took her accordion out of its case and began warming up.

  Natalie walked in with her daughter and a guitar a few seconds later. She didn’t outright scowl at Lauren, but she also intentionally avoided eye contact. Lauren wasn’t sure if that was an improvement or not. After she set up her kid at a little table off to the side with a huge pair of headphones and a backpack, Natalie took her guitar out of its bag and began tuning and strumming.

  Lauren lifted her violin under her chin and plucked at the strings to make sure it was still in tune. She ran her bow across, slowly, a few times, then did a few quick scale runs to warm up.

  “Want to start with ‘Jolie Blonde’?”

  Lauren couldn’t read Robin’s face other than it was less warm and welcoming than when she had first walked in the house. If Robin thought she was disappointed now, wait until she heard Lauren play.

  With a nod to Robin and a deep breath, Lauren reminded herself that she could do this. Despite spending the morning working with Tyler, she’d still practiced most of the afternoon. She’d been practicing this instrument most of her life. Even though she hadn’t been playing this style of music regularly the past few years, she grew up on it. It was in her blood.

  Robin returned the nod. “Everybody ready?”

  “Yup,” Eric said.

  Kelsey followed by holding up her sticks. “Whenever you are.”

  “Sure.” Natalie seemed far from sure, but with a glance over at her kid, she kept her mouth shut beyond that.

  Robin started them off with a few solo bars, then everyone else joined in, with Kelsey tapping time on the rim in the back and Eric stringing deep, driving notes behind them. Natalie strummed chords on the other side of the stage.

  Lauren filled in alongside Robin. She couldn’t exactly lose herself in the song—she was way too nervous for that. She stumbled over a few changes that were different from how her hands remembered playing the song with her family. Subtle differences, so she was able to recover quickly, but she couldn’t relax and just play.

  Still, she got through it. They all dragged out the last note together. Lauren smiled and felt pretty good, until she heard a voice from the other side of the room.

  “Are we going to pretend that was half as good as Camille?”

  Lauren’s muscles tightened as she felt Natalie’s angry glare behind her. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say, or if she was supposed to say anything at all.

  “She did fine,” Kelsey’s chipper voice countered.

  Eric remained silent. Lauren didn’t blame him one bit. Especially being both the new guy (before she showed up) and outnumbered by the women in the room.

  Robin nodded her approval to Lauren, then turned to face Natalie. “What is your problem, Nat?”

  “My problem is this isn’t going to work.” Natalie swung her guitar strap around so the guitar tilted in a resting position as she stared down Robin. “I told you. We should wait for Camille to get back. Cancel our gigs until then.”

  Kelsey said, “That’s not great business, Nat, and you know it.”

  “I know it’s better than turning out a shitty performance.”

  “That wasn’t shitty! A little stiff, maybe. But we’d be fine after a few run-throughs.”

  “A little stiff? She looked like a fifth grader at a recital.”

  “Come on, Nat,” Kelsey pleaded.

  “Enough.” Robin’s voice boomed through the workshop. “Camille’s not on vacation, Natalie. She’s in rehab.”

  The room went quiet and still, as if someone had sucked all the air out in an instant. Natalie’s daughter looked up from her coloring, her eyes wide with those big headphones on her head, clearly not blocking out enough sound. Eric gave her a reassuring smile, while Natalie and Robin locked stares.

  “We don’t even know if she’s coming back,” Robin said.

  “She’s coming back.”

  “You don’t know that.” Robin took a breath and relaxed her shoulders. Her face softened and she said, “I know you want her to, and I’m sure she probably wants to right now, too. But we don’t know what’s gonna happen a month from now, and we’ve gotta be ready.”

  Natalie relaxed a little, too. “Fine. We don’t know. Then wait for her. We’ll make a plan when we know for sure.”

  Robin shook her head, then nodded toward Lauren. “This is our plan.”

  The rims of Natalie’s eyes reddened, and for once she didn’t have a sound or a word to add.

  Lauren finally found her courage and her voice. “I’m not here to replace anyone.”

  Natalie’s head snapped back toward Lauren. “No, you’re not.”

  Lauren nodded. “Then we’re all on the same page.”

  Kelsey and Eric exchanged a look in the back of the room that Lauren didn’t quite understand, but she understood Robin’s smirk perfectly.

  “About time,” Robin said. “Can we hit the two-step now, or what?”

  Lauren’s stomach dropped to her toes. She’d hoped she could ease into that one last, but now she was going to have to play it second. Right after she’d been called shitty and stiff and a fifth grader at a recital.

  Maybe that beer she’d had would keep her nerves in check.

  Kelsey clacked her sticks behind them. Robin played some chords over the clicking, and the whole band kicked in a few beats later.

  Lauren was a beat behind from the beginning. She struggled to keep up with her brain overthinking every note, every chord change. Her brain kept questioning why she was there in the first place and reminding her that Natalie was right. She was shit.

  But she fought through the runs and somehow made it to the end of the song. Just not exactly with the rest of them.

  There was a long stretch of silence that even Natalie didn’t fill. Lauren wondered if she could crawl out the front door without anyone noticing. They could all pretend this never happened.

  “Can we go home now?” Natalie said.

  Lauren almost wanted to hug her for saying that so she didn’t have to.

  Almost.

  This time, there was no pushback from Kelsey or Robin. Eric was, as expected, silent as well.

  “Do you want to try another song?” Robin’s eyes wer
e filled with disappointment and sympathy. Neither of which Lauren could bear.

  “I should probably go.”

  Lauren grabbed her case. She was both pained by and grateful for the silence in the room following her statement.

  This was all a huge mistake. But it was her mistake, not theirs.

  She didn’t belong here. Not with this group. Not with these people. They were a family of sorts, and she had no place in it.

  “Thanks,” she said to Robin. Then she gave a quick wave and a tight, embarrassed smile to the others. “Good luck. With everything.”

  Chapter 8

  Lauren managed to close and lock the front door before she slid to the floor crying.

  She’d thought she’d been playing it cool, telling herself that this would have been a nice gig to have, but not getting overly excited about it. In reality, she’d done a shitty job of managing her expectations.

  More than anything, she had wanted to fit somewhere. To not have everyone comparing her to her sister. To feel like she was the right choice. The best choice.

  The collapse of this dream was the final killing blow to her ego.

  Millie ran over and did her job, or what she thought was her job, dutifully licking the tears streaking Lauren’s face. It was quite a job.

  After several long minutes of self-pity, Lauren sniffled and wiped her sticky face with the bottom of her shirt. Millie must be desperate to go outside.

  Lauren walked to the back of the house and opened the patio door for the dog. She should take her for a walk, since there wasn’t much grass or room to run around with the pool in the backyard, but she didn’t have the energy or motivation for a freezing stroll through the neighborhood.

  She closed the sliding door behind Millie and grabbed a cream soda from the fridge. Brandy hated them, but her parents always kept a few stocked just for Lauren. Even though she was almost never around anymore.

  Lauren took a sip of cream soda and dug her phone out of her purse. There was just one message.

  Tyler: How’d it go? Knock ’em dead?

  She’d thought about calling him on her way home. He could have been waiting at the door for her, ready with a warm hug and a soft place to land. The thought of his strong arms wrapped around her—holding her tight against him, safe from the rest of the world—brought tears of longing to her eyes.

  But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she should have spent the morning practicing, not walking down memory lane and making out with Tyler.

  It wasn’t his fault. She knew that. But she couldn’t separate him from her failure.

  Besides, who was she kidding? This wasn’t going to end any better than her last relationship.

  Well, maybe not that bad. Tyler wasn’t a complete asshat. But it still couldn’t end well. She’d been fooling herself by thinking for even half a second that she had a chance with him. He was stable and gorgeous and completely kind. He’d believed in her when she hadn’t believed in herself.

  And she’d let both of them down.

  Not to mention this was still her sister’s best friend. She didn’t belong with him any more than she belonged with that band.

  Lauren sipped her cream soda and put the phone face-down on the counter without replying.

  * * * * *

  The next morning, Lauren’s eyes struggled to decrust. She’d gone to Brandy’s bed to hug her sister’s pillow and feel sorry for herself. Millie had even jumped up to snuggle next to her.

  Then, Lauren had a good, long cry.

  She cried about her audition. She cried about not calling Tyler. She cried about her parents leaving her to take care of all of this while they were gone, even though it had been her idea.

  And for the first time in a month, now that the shock had worn off, Lauren cried, long and hard, about losing her sister.

  But once she woke and wiped the crud from her face, she made a strong cup of coffee and steadied herself to face the day and the rest of her life.

  Alone.

  Her first order of business was to delete phone numbers. She was officially done with her ex and his betrayal and with him trying to control her or make her someone she wasn’t.

  And she didn’t need her roommate’s number anymore either. So long, assholes.

  Next, she put her violin case in the back of her closet. No more auditions. No more fooling herself. She’d figure out a new direction for her life some other day. Selling T-shirts and CDs was a pretty good gig for now.

  Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. Another text from Tyler wanting to know if she was okay.

  She wasn’t. But she would be.

  She texted back that she was fine, she just needed to be alone and figure some things out.

  The final step of her plan led her back to Brandy’s room, where she took a visual inventory of the space. It was hard to remember Brandy in there. Her sister had spent so little time here the past few years. All of these things…they were just things. Getting rid of them wouldn’t get rid of their memories of her.

  Lauren’s eyes fell back on the framed photo on the dresser. She walked over and picked it up. She was smiling in that photo. A small, shy smile, but it was genuine.

  She remembered that day clearly. It had been such a drag. Making sure they had the perfect coordinating outfits. Making sure their hair was neat, not flying all over the place, even though there was barely a breeze. Making sure they all sat and stood in the perfect positions.

  But looking back now, she remembered that no one had asked her to sit with at least a foot of space between her and Brandy. Lauren had isolated herself all on her own.

  Her phone buzzed.

  Tyler: You sure you’re OK? Need anything?

  She looked back at the photo and set it on the dresser.

  Lauren: I’ll be fine. Promise.

  * * * * *

  Tyler smacked his phone face-down on his thigh.

  “That bad?” Darren asked.

  Nicki dropped her slobbery tennis ball on top of Tyler’s phone. Not like he needed the phone. Lauren was clearly blowing him off.

  “Kind of.” Tyler threw the ball, and Nicki trotted after it. He rubbed the plastic arms of his folding chair. He should probably go for a run. Get some cold air burning in his lungs and kill some of his pent-up frustration.

  “What did she say?”

  Nikki left the ball on the ground, but pressed herself against Tyler’s leg for petting. He obliged and said, “She said she’s fine.”

  Fine. After that kiss—the one that made him dizzy with its perfection and how it ignited a desire to put his mouth all over her—all he got from her was fine.

  “That bitch.”

  Tyler shot Darren a watch it look, which made Darren put up his hands in defense and laugh.

  “Sorry, man,” Darren said. “I’m just saying, you look like she stole your dog and ran out of town with all your money or something.”

  “Might as well have.”

  “Maybe she’s actually fine.”

  Tyler shook his head. “She didn’t call or answer last night. That audition didn’t go well.”

  “So maybe she slept on it and feels better this morning.”

  “Maybe.”

  Darren could be right. Lauren was pretty tough. Always had been. Still, she’d been through a lot lately. This couldn’t have been an easy blow on top of everything else.

  But why couldn’t she just tell him that?

  “She’s still pushing me away,” Tyler said.

  Darren shrugged. “Then don’t let her.”

  “I can’t make her talk to me.”

  And he wouldn’t. He’d watched his Mom and Dad manipulate each other for years before they finally split. And after that, too. He sure as hell wasn’t going to play those kinds of games with Lauren.

  “No shit,” Darren said. “Just let her know you don’t shake that easily. That you’re still here.”

  Tyler sighed and petted Nicki when she nudged him again. Maybe Darren was ri
ght. Lauren had been through a lot. Maybe she was just closing ranks and protecting herself. It’s not like Tyler wasn’t familiar with the tactic or hadn’t used it himself.

  “You might be on to something.” He flipped his phone over and stared at the black screen, thinking. “You charging by the hour for these sessions, or what?”

  Darren stood and whistled for Nicki to follow him inside. “I’ll bill ya.” He clapped Tyler on the shoulder. “I’m thinking about going see that movie later. I hope you’ve got better plans, but you’re welcome to come with me if you need a few hours to not think and watch shit blow up.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Darren and Nicki left him alone outside with his thoughts and the crisp January air.

  Let her know he was still there.

  The only thing that came to mind was boring and predictable. But he did know Lauren. He had a feeling he could guess what she needed right about now, even if what she needed wasn’t him.

  He found the number and made the call as he walked inside to get his keys. He’d rather be predictable than lose her for good.

  Chapter 9

  By lunch-time, the stacks of empty boxes in the living room had been transformed into stacks of overfilled boxes. Lauren planned to load them into her car and drop them off later in the afternoon, before her parents got back that night.

  It wasn’t easy, but it felt good to have most of the task behind her. To move on.

  Or to at least take a step in that direction.

  She was standing next to the front door, admiring her work, when the doorbell rang. Millie barked and rushed the door once again, and Lauren had to pick her up so she wouldn’t attack whatever unsuspecting bystander was out there.

  When she opened the door, she was surprised—although she figured maybe she shouldn’t have been—to find Tyler standing in the doorway once again.

  He held his hands up in defense, with another grocery bag hanging from one hand. “I know you said you wanted some time alone, so I promise I’m not here to overstep that. I just wanted to drop off supplies.”

  He handed her his supply offering. She could smell Chinese food through the containers and grease-soaked paper bag inside that plastic grocery bag.