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Chapter Two
Sawyer
“Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
The mover handed me a clipboard. “No problem. Would you sign here?”
I scribbled my signature across the bottom line. This morning, I’d called the movers to come haul away all the horrid Christmas decorations before I left for Destin. When we got back from the tour in three months, the last thing I’d want to deal with was holiday decorations.
“Thanks. Hope you have a happy New Year.” I handed the younger man in the blue uniform his clipboard.
“You, too, ma’am.”
/> When the door closed, the apartment felt oddly empty. I straightened Kurt’s boots where they sat by the front door. His philosophy was “Why not leave them where I’ll next need them.” Inside, I felt like a crazy person. These quirks that drove me insane endeared him to me more. I loved his craziness, yet I could envision myself strangling him with the sleeves of his leather jacket, which hung on the back of a chair.
I chuckled. We’re quite the pair. Or we would be if he would give us a chance.
Checking the time, I saw that it was a little after ten. Kurt had left for an appointment with his lawyers. His record label had released a recording of him and Knoah without their consent. My best friend had a beautiful voice that harmonized perfectly with Kurt’s. I’d heard the recording of “Lost,” and it was mesmerizing. Overall, though, the release had created a marketing nightmare. His fans wanted the woman to sing with Kurt on stage, but that wasn’t going to happen. Knoah wanted no part of the rock-star life. And Kurt refused to let another woman sing the song. From what Knoah had told me, the song was about surviving Dylan’s—Kurt’s best friend’s and Knoah’s first husband’s—death. From the loss I’d experienced, I understood.
Garrick Shaw, Knoah’s current husband, would also be at the meeting to make sure the label paid for their mistake. Garrick took care of my best friend, always putting her best interest first. He was a good man. Such devotion from a man was something I yearned to experience in my lifetime.
I took out a few sticky notes and put them on the fridge with reminders for Kurt:
Review travel folder on desk
Decide regarding Colorado venue
Sign the New York agreement
For the first time in a long time, I enjoyed my job—loved it. But the man connected to it was another story. Until Thanksgiving, I had been the marketing manager for Reverence through my brother’s firm. Kurt asked me to be his assistant and liaison with the various companies he dealt with. The amount of trust that required warmed me. Though my brother, Cameron, hated to see me go, he knew it was a better offer for me, career wise.
Lucky me.
I sighed and finished packing my bags. Later today, my bags for the tour would be picked up along with Kurt’s. The full ones were stacked neatly at the front door. I wasn’t sure if Kurt had begun to pack or not.
The stack of clothes kept growing as I added a few more things. Three months was a long time to be away. In total, I think we only had three weekends off to come home. Being in a sardine can traveling across America would be interesting.
The sound of the luggage wheels was the only sound in the otherwise quiet living room. It was after one. Kurt was due back around three. For my own sake, it was best if I was gone before he got back.
I returned to my room and nearly gagged. “Damn him.”
Apparently, at some point this morning, Kurt had refilled the automatic cologne dispenser. Rubbing my eyes, I held my breath. The cologne was foul—a cross between chocolate gone wrong and rotten peaches. Terrible, terrible combination.
Is this how our relationship will always be? What will happen when he goes out with someone while we’re on tour? I already knew the answer—it would slay me. But I had to be prepared for it.
But, in the meantime, payback was fair. I gave a little cackle as I grabbed my body spray from my purse and went to his room. Clothes were strewn all over the place. A disaster area at its finest. In the corner, his sheets were wadded in a crumpled mess. I mashed my lips together in amusement.
I looked back at the stripped bed with only the comforter thrown haphazardly across the top. Maybe my perfume had driven him a little crazy. Seeing this made me happier than it should have. I unscrewed the cap. “All’s fair in love and war, roomie.”
The room filled with the flowery scent as I sprinkled it over the mattress and comforter. Then, for good measure, I sprayed some on my bed and couch.
Ha! Take that. You’ll have to get a hotel room to escape the smell.
As I walked back to his room, I was nearly knocked over with the smell.
Hell, I need a life.
The front door opened, and I frantically rushed out of his room, my heart galloping in my chest at the thought of getting caught spraying his bed. Hello, crazy lady. I took deep, calming breaths in the safety of my room, trying not to gag with the smell of the horrid cologne.
