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ChapterOne
Lauren Stone owned a big-ass, beachfront Spanish Colonial Revival in Santa Monica, California. With six bedrooms, five baths, and a pool that overlooked the sand, it was far too big for her, and when she bought it, people had clucked at her excess. Lauren, however, didn’t give a rat’s backside what they thought. She knew the adage was true: money couldn’t buy happiness. It could, however, buy some very awesome toys.
Years ago, she’d promised herself that if her band, The Kingmakers, ever made it big, she was buying herself a big house with a view of the ocean. And Lauren Stone kept her promises.
She was sitting in the spacious, airy sunroom, where an overstuffed sofa and several chairs formed a rough semi-circle around a long coffee table and faced the bank of windows—and the arched glass doors—that led out to the pool. Exposed, dark mahogany beams ran the length of the stucco ceiling. Two ceiling fans provided a soothing breeze. Aside from the ocean view, this room was one of the things that had sold her on this house.
She got out of the plush chair and leaned in the arched doorway that opened to her patio and pool. Taking a deep drink of beer, she contemplated the expanse of sand beyond the fence, stretching from the edge of her backyard to the cerulean water. She liked how the color changed depending on the day and the weather.
At the sound of footsteps, she looked back into the room. “Hey, Augie!”
“Hey!” Her cousin’s dimples deepened when he smiled.
Lauren grew up with three sisters, and Augustus “Augie” Stone was the brother she never had. A year younger than her, he was The Kingmakers’ drummer.
“Connie let you in?” She’d let her housekeeper know she was expecting company.
“Yeah. Said you’d be out here.” Augie leaned his athletic, six-foot frame on the other side of the curved doorway.
Putting her beer bottle down, Lauren pulled her hair back and tugged the scrunchie off her wrist to capture it all in a messy ponytail. It would have been the same dark brown as Augie’s if she didn’t get it highlighted regularly, but they both shared a soft natural wave that ran in the Stone family. For Lauren that meant minimal time trying to curl it—for Augie it just meant some unruly cowlicks.
“C’mon. Too nice to be inside,” she said. “Let’s sit by the pool. There’s more beer in the cooler. I’ve got that new Elk Stone Amber I was telling you about.”
“Lead on, my captain!”
Sheltered by a large red umbrella, the teak table was surrounded by four chairs. A few feet away, two padded lounge chairs waited. Augie flopped down on one, Lauren in the other.
As soon as she got comfortable, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and started to laugh.
“Gonna share?”
“Just DJ being DJ.” Lauren snickered again.
“What is it, fifty-two poop emojis in a row?”
“Close. He threw in a few eggplants for good measure.” She tucked the phone into a shady spot under her chair, and they fell into an amiable silence. Lauren took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to let her anxiety exit with it.
“DJ’s worried about you, you know.”
“I’ve been through breakups before.” Lauren forced her voice to be light. Shehadbeen through breakups over the years, more than she cared to admit. And there were times she wondered if she was capable of a long-term relationship with anyone. Rob had been fun, but the charm hadn’t lasted. Her ex, however, hadn’t taken the breakup well.
“Well, if you want to—“
“—Talk? I don’t.” She took another drink of beer. “Needy, manipulative little bastard.” She thought about the salvo of nasty tweets Rob had flung at her like a monkey throwing its own excrement. It wasn’t like she’d expected him to be happy about being shown the door, but the juvenile level of his response had been astonishing.
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk abouthim. I do want to talk about the new album.”
“And?”
“The last one was good, not great. This one needs to be a home run.” Worry painted her voice and she hated it. She drummed her fingers on the armrest. “I’m not ready to fade into the sunset.”
“We’re not fading into anything,” Augie said. “Seriously, dude. You need to stop listening to the critics’ podcasts.”
Lauren chewed her lip. Augie wasn’t entirely wrong. The band had taken a well-earned break after the last tour, but it was time to get back to work. Restless, she got up and walked to the fence surrounding the pool. Leaning on it, she stared out toward the Pacific. Wispy clouds streaked the sky, slashes of rose and gold in the setting sun.
A squeak told her Augie had gotten out of his chair. He leaned on the rail next to her and gave her a gentle hip bump.
