Page 3 of One Weekend in Los Angeles

As I dialed my PR agent, I downed a bottle of water and waited for him to pick up.

“Hi, Deacon,” Ollie greeted. “How was the flight?”

“All right. Anxious to get some real sleep though.”

“I can imagine. After your concert on Saturday, you plan to stay in LA long?”

“Couple of weeks.” I owned several properties around the world, including a home here overlooking the city, but there was only one place I could relax completely. My modern, but comfortable, beach house retreat about sixty miles north of Sydney, Australia. It was my oasis.

I’d been on a twenty-two-state US tour over the summer, and played Asia and Europe the year before. Although I loved what I did—the fans, the music, the travel, and performing—I was ready to take a break and have nothing on the schedule. Get back to songwriting and the simple life without having a half dozen people in the room with me at all times.

My sigh must’ve been audible because Ollie’s next words were, “You doing okay, Deacon?”

“Yeah, just tired.” Tired not only of the grind, but of the public light. Constant cameras everywhere and people trying to mooch off my success. Recently there was the added drama of my breakup with Nina and her subsequent whirlwind engagement only two months later.

“Have you decided if you’ll attend the wedding?”

It didn’t bother me to see my ex move on quickly, but having her walk down the aisle with my stepbrother was a nightmare. The goal was to have a clean break from an ex-girlfriend, not have her join my family.

When I’d first been asked to attend their wedding, my response had been an automatic “no fucking way.” I’d send them a gift and wish them well from afar.

“Nina told the tabloids you’re not over her, and that’s why you might not attend.”

My eyes rolled. Nina and I had only dated for three months, and it had never been love. At least not on my part. She might maintain she was brokenhearted from the breakup. Considering she’d immediately moved on to my stepbrother, I wasn’t convinced she had a heart to break.

Bryce wasn’t a bad guy, but he definitely didn’t realize what a manipulating drama queen he was marrying. The fact he’d probably taken out a loan to finance the rock on her hand showed how besotted he was with her.

“My mom called yesterday to ask me to please attend.” I understood her desire to have the family together and was hard-pressed to tell her no. She was the single mother who’d worked two jobs so I could have music lessons while growing up. My stepfather, Rob, was a decent guy, and in any other circumstance, attending my stepbrother’s wedding would’ve been a given.

“Want my advice?”

“Always.” Ollie was good people in an industry that didn’t have many, and I trusted him implicitly.

“Go to the wedding and take a date. It’ll show the world you’re unaffected, and then you can be done. At least until Christmas, when you’ll have to figure out if you’re going to avoid the family gathering because of your new sister-in-law.”

“Fuck.” I hadn’t thought that far into the future. Would my ex be permanently engrained in my life? If Nina were a sweet girl without an agenda, I could get past the discomfort, but she was more the sort of woman to create all kinds of family drama.

“We could always schedule you a holiday concert series. Say the word.”

It wasn’t the worst idea, nor would it be the first family holiday I’d missed due to my schedule. “Let’s keep that idea in our back pocket.” I’d be shocked if Bryce and Nina lasted until a second Christmas. “I’ll see you at the concert on Saturday, right?”

“Yes, you will. I have a favor to ask about your concert, actually. One of my other clients, Andrea Foreman from City of Angels, recently went through a rough time. She’ll be at the concert, and I was thinking you could throw a wink her way or something. Poor girl was cheated on by her husband who’s a narcissist wannabe rock star. It would be a nice boon to her confidence.”

Hearing anyone have to deal with a narcissist was a trigger for me. After all, I’d grown up with one until my mother had finally gathered the courage to leave him. “Happy to. Where will she be?” I’d toss her a guitar pick and blow her a kiss or something.

“Next to me, left center in the third row back.”

“Thought you were taking Roger?” Since they both lived in LA, I’d assumed Ollie’s long-term partner would be his plus-one.

“No offense and don’t ever tell him I said this to you, but while he adores you personally, my boy, he does not appreciate loud music or crowds.”

I had to chuckle. While Ollie was flamboyant and down to party, despite being slightly north of sixty, Roger was conservative and did the lawyerly thing in a suit most days. The kind which wasn’t made out of crushed velvet. Guess opposites really could attract. “Fair enough. See you tomorrow night.”

“Thirty minutes, Deacon.” A rap came at my door with the warning for showtime. My wardrobe person, Pam, handed me my jacket while I warmed up my vocals.

Once I was on stage, the crowd fueled my adrenaline. There was no bigger high than hearing people sing back the words you’d put your heart and soul into. Four songs in, my gaze found Ollie left center, three rows back. And damn, was that the woman he’d mentioned—what was her name—Andrea?

I didn’t know what I’d expected, but the brunette was stunning. And it wasn’t just the skimpy outfit which showcased her curvy body, but the shy smile she offered up.