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He pushes the case away, disgusted, and I give the woman a sympathetic glance.
“Maybe you need to think about it some more?” I offer as we walk out of the jewelry store and onto Rodeo Drive.
Jack slips his baseball cap and sunglasses back on, but it’s clear that anyone who looks hard enough could tell who he is. He could wear a pink wig and heels and people would still recognize him. Me, on the other hand, blend into obscurity, and I like it that way. It’s only when I’m with Jack that people make the connection that I used to be the bass player inMogo.
“I don’t need to think about whether I want to marry Erin,” Jack spits out through gritted teeth.
I first met Erin when she interviewed me for Jack’s book. For most of my career, I’d encountered a lot of press that weren’t complementary. It put a bad taste in my mouth, and I didn’t trust Erin’s intentions at first. She had a way about her though, that put me at ease, because I could see her love for Jack grow, despite everything he told her, everything I told her. That love grew in her eyes the more secrets I’d divulged, about the band, about Jack, while still safeguarding my own.
After everything Jack had gone through with Amber and Mia, I didn’t think he would ever get married again, no matter how much he loved her.
“What is it about her?” I ask curiously.
“What do you mean? You know Erin; what’s not to like?” He’s avoiding my question, and I’m not going to let him get away with it.
“After everything, why now?” I stop him in the street. “Why her?” We look at each other and I see our history, all of the good and all of the bad, like a tether that keeps us bound to one another. There’s a silent conversation happening between us in that one look. What I’m really asking is what is it about Erin that has made him finally put Mia to rest?
Jack lets out a clarifying breath and then lowers his glasses to look at me. “She makes me a better person.”
He doesn’t wait for me to respond and continues down the street towards the car. When it came to Jack and Mia, I was a witness to how much they loved each other, but I also saw their volatile side. Jack was like warm ocean water and Mia was the thunderstorm. Together, they were the makings of a hurricane. They didn’t make each other better people. In their wake, everyone else was just collateral damage
Jack stops at the curb, and before unlocking the car, he places a hand on the roof. It’s like he can read my thoughts, the memories coming to life. “Cash, you already are the better man; you just need to find someone who reminds you of that.”
Without another word, Jack slips into the driver’s seat and we take off, leaving the flashy neighborhood behind, heading west to Santa Monica.
We drive in silence, aside from the continual cursing as Jack navigates traffic, while I mull over his words. I know Jack hates to drive which is why I made him pick me up once Sasha came to take over the store. It was punishment for making me go shopping with him.
“Look at this fucker! Would it kill him to use a turn signal?” He jerks the wheel hard to get around the car in front of him.
I can’t help but snigger.
“What do you find so goddamn funny?” He flicks his gaze at me as I try but fail to stifle another laugh.
“You are so wound up,” I manage to get out.
“You find my suffering funny?” he asks, but I know it’s rhetorical.
“You’ll find the perfect ring,” I reassure him, as he pulls into the parking lot of the record store.
“I went to the best jewelry store on Rodeo. If I can’t find what I want there, where else am I going to find it?”
“Did I hear someone say they’re looking for a ring?” Angel’s voice scares the shit out of both of us, causing a girly scream to escape Jack’s lips.
“What in the actual fuck?” Jack hits the lock button on his car and starts to roll up the window.
“Hey, man, I ain’t no street beggar.” Angel looks across the front seat to me. “Tell him,Amigo.” He gestures to me.
“You know this guy?” Jack looks at me and then back to Angel.
“Never seen him before in my life.”
“That’s cold, man. Real cold.” Angel retorts, shaking his head at me.
I laugh.
Angel’s phone rings. “Mi vida,” he says. “No, I’m over at the record store.” He gives me a signal to wait for him. “No, record store isn’t code for strip club, I told you.”
“Who the fuck is this guy?” Jack asks, looking at me.
