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Cara got the message loud and clear. Marissa’s comment was delivered to tell her the good news as much as it was to warn her not to hurt David.
“I can’t do this, not while I’m getting my life back on track,” Cara said between jagged sobs. “He’s got his career to think about and now I’ve gotten some psycho ex mad at him.”
Marissa reached over and smoothed Cara’s hair. “Take a deep breath. I’d usually say this happened too fast, and to slow it down, but I’ve known David for years. He used to play at Tommy’s father’s place in Minneapolis. He’s a good man. Quit the job and let him help you out.”
“I can’t do that,” she said. “How many people ask him for things? Hell, his last girlfriend was only there for the money. I’m not going to be one of them. I’ll take care of myself. I have to get another job. I’ll have to put up with this sucky job until I do because I barely make rent now, but I’ll figure it out.”
“We’ll help you. We’re there for you.”
Cara threw her arms around her friend and hugged her tightly. “You’re wonderful,” she squeezed her tight.
“Don’t be afraid to ask David for help,” Marissa said again.
“I can’t.” She shook her head. “I won’t.”
Marissa looked her in the eye. “It’s funny how as alcoholics we would let guys buy us a drink that would kill us, but we can’t ask for legitimate help as sober people.”
“I get that.” Her breathing calmed down. “I’m going to walk through this with your support. I think you just grounded me and took the drama from the situation. I feel much better.”
“Good. Now I hope you don’t mind that I let David know.”
Chapter Eleven
David
David’s house was awfully empty when he got back from Carmel. He was good and tired and fell asleep thinking of Cara. He napped for a couple of hours, packed a few things and turned back around to San Jose. He booked a room at the St. Claire in downtown because he’d be recording there all week. The bonus to this arrangement was he’d be closer to Cara.
He’d woken up to a message from Marissa and called Cara first thing.
“Baby,” he said urgently. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she replied sleepily.
“Are you in bed? You don’t have school or work?” His voice in a panic.
“Not till Tuesday. I have today off.” Her voice cracked.
“Are you crying?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her voice barely above a whisper. “It comes, and it goes.”
“If you aren’t busy and you want to hang out, come to the studio, I’ll send a car.”
That brought him a giggle. “I have a car. I could even ride my bike to the studio. I don’t need car service.”
“Ride your bike?” he asked in a sexy voice. “Tell me more.”
“Well, I lost my license for a while so I biked everywhere.”
“That’s why you’re so fine,” he said.
Images of her ran through his mind as he was in a posh little hotel room all alone.
“I have to get to the studio,” he said. “Come over when you’re awake or if you can, let’s have lunch together. I’m right down the street all week.”
“You are?” her voice perked up.
“Yup. Hotel St. Claire.”
