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CHAPTER 15
QUINN
Ihad two interesting phone calls that afternoon. One from Callum saying that he thought, maybe, things were going well with the Jason negotiation. He’d have more information later.
Then, Noah’s school called the house a couple hours later. Noah was still there. No one had picked him up.
I called Callum immediately. He sounded harassed. Cars were honking around him.
“I know,” he said, his voice edged in irritation. “I’m in a fucking traffic jam, and Renee and my parents are busy. I already called the school.”
“Well they didn’t get the message.” I walked from his office into the mud room. The keys to his Tesla were hanging beside the coats and hats. “Want me to go get him?”
There was a long pause. I sensed he was mentally flipping through the reasons why that wasn’t a good idea. Realizing that it was the only idea.
“Just pick him up and bring him right back to the house.”
“Roger that.” I hooked my finger into the key ring and started toward the front door. “Don’t worry. I’m a great driver.”
It was true. I spent a lot of time driving to clear my head or work out a particularly tricky line. I’d even had a Tesla myself for a little while, so I knew I could operate it. I was feeling downright cheerful as I slid behind the wheel. It had been almost a week since I’d last driven, and I missed it.
I picked Noah up and had every intention of driving straight back home, but on that very short, three-mile drive, we happened to pass a guitar center. In the rearview mirror, I watched Noah’s eyes pick it out and his head turn to track it as we drove by.
“Hey kiddo, you mind if we make a stop?” I asked, casually hooking a U-turn. “I need more guitar picks.”
I didn’t. I hadn’t used them in years. But when Noah’s eyes widened like I’d announced that it was actually Christmas morning, I decided there was no harm in buying some.
The guy working behind the counter recognized me when we walked in, and he announced in his loud, trumpeting voice, “Quinn Collins in the store, ladies and gentlemen!”
As Noah and I were the only lady and gentleman in the store, it didn’t make much of a stir. I grinned my appreciation and did a small bow to the ranks of guitars that were lined up against the wall.
“Go look,” I urged Noah. He was practically clinging to my leg.
Slowly, he edged away.
“You can touch, buddy,” the guy behind the counter called.
Noah reached out one small finger and stroked the neck of a Yamaha.
I wanted to follow him around, find a Fender Kids Acoustic for him and make him try it on for size. But then I’d be pushing him toward music as hard as his dad was pulling him away from it. I walked to the counter instead and made small talk with the guy whose name was Jevon.
We stayed longer than I meant to because Jevon was interesting. He’d been three years behind me and went to the rival high school, but he’d been to a couple ofThe Bellesshows. He’d followed my career since. He tactfully didn’t mention my second album.
“What’s the music scene like these days?” I asked.
“Good, good.” He nodded his head to a rhythm I couldn’t hear and pounded his fingers on the edge of the counter. “No one as big as you, of course. But we have some good local bands.”
Wistfulness hooked its fingers around my heart and squeezed. I had been a good local band once. I’d known the owners of the venue and the booking agents and the promoters. I’d known who was good to work with and who was bad. We’d had our favorite spots. We’d had our regulars. It had been so damn fun back when it was me, Joanne, Mia, and Renee, those crazy girls from Belmont Springs.
Now I had a creep manager and a faltering career that I wasn’t even sure I wanted anymore. At least, not in its current iteration. Being home was bringing me back to my roots in more ways than one. LA was lonely.Iwas lonely.
That feeling got stuck inside me, like gum in between my ribs. I couldn’t shake it. Even getting back behind the wheel of Callum’s very excellent car wasn’t enough to dislodge it. I smiled as Noah chattered about the different guitars he had seen, but even his wide eyed, innocent excitement sent a pang through me.Ihad been wide eyed and excited once, too. What had happened?
Then we pulled into the driveway and there was Callum, his arms crossed across his chest, his jaw set.
“Uh oh,” Noah said before I could. He knew that look, too.
“Uh ohis right,” I muttered. I put the car and park and twisted around to face Noah. “Listen kiddo, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who needed to make a stop.”
