Brando

I bring in a talented photographer who owes me a favor (possibly for services rendered in the bedroom) to take some good shots of Haley, and bring in a couple of eager-to-please college kids to build her a new website and hook her into every music discovery, streaming, and social media service around. I post the music video in the morning and by lunchtime its views are in the six figure range, seven by di

I’m so busy that I barely have enough time to appreciate just how well it’s going. The only downside is that I’ve barely spoken to Haley herself in three days. Unless sending each other pictures of ourselves in the shower counts, but even there I’m starting to neglect my duties.

I have a meeting with a producer who wants to use her song in the closing credits of a teen drama that just wrapped filming, and when I get back to my car I pound the wheel and roar with fired-up enthusiasm. I’m go

Then Jax calls.

“Let me guess, you’re on your way,” he says.

It takes a full three seconds before I realize. “Oh shit! I’m sorry, dude.”

Jax laughs. “It’s cool. I only surf with you to scare off sharks anyway.”

“No, it’s not cool. I’m sorry, bro. I forgot you were back from Paris, and I’ve just been really busy.”

“Hey, forget it. There’s always Thursday.”

I mentally go over the rigorous schedule of promotions and networking I’ve got ahead of me for the next few days, as well as the time I need to carve out to see Haley again soon. “Yeah…I don’t know.”

“Still busy?”

I put the call onto the Porsche’s speakerphone and check the calendar on my phone.

“I don’t know. I have to see someone in the morning, and then I’ve got to make some calls. Shit.”

“I didn’t think you were that popular. Unless…Haley?”

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. Even hearing her name makes me feel a little better.

Jax’s laugh is so easy and mild I can barely tell where the waves begin and his voice ends.

“You’re in deep with her. Shit. I knew it before you figured it out yourself.”

I laugh. He’s right.

“She’s something special, dude. I don’t know what it is, and that’s the weird thing about it. I always know what it is with women. She’s breaking big, and we’re doing this thing together. I don’t know… This is the first time in a long time everything feels like it’s falling into place.”

I hear nothing but the crashing waves over the phone.

“Bro?” I say, after waiting a few seconds. “You there?”

“Yeah. I’m here,” Jax says, his voice downturned and low.

“What?”

“Brando. Buddy…”

“Say it, dude.”

I hear him take a deep breath. “I don’t wa

I know what he’s talking about. Normally we don’t talk about my past with Lexi, the deal, the devastation – it’s off-limits and he knows it. It’s our code. I met Jax after the break-up, told him all about it one night when we decided to get drunk by ourselves rather than go home and bang chicks. I made him swear the next morning, when we woke up on the bar, never to mention what I told him ever again. I didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to go over it again. I wanted to be a new man, someone different. A man without that in his past. Jax acted like he couldn’t remember me telling him, did the only thing a decent friend would do. Until now.

“Familiar?” I push, daring Jax to break the code.

“Look, I don’t know her. Forget I said it. I’m just telling you to be careful. Friend to friend.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll call you about Thursday.”

I hang up, drop the phone on the passenger seat, and stare ahead for a full ten minutes.

He’s right. It is familiar.

When I go to meet Haley, her friend Je

And yet the memory of what Jax said earlier hangs over me like a dark mist I can’t shake off. This situation is familiar. I’m starting to see signs everywhere, in everything I do. The feeling of being almost there, the simple and strong trust I have in Haley, the adrenaline rush I get from seeing my work actually getting results – it’s word-for-word, motion-for-motion what I felt just before Lexi tore me apart. As soon as I set the ball in motion, it feels like it’s getting away from me. What seemed perfect before is now a little too perfect to trust.

Je

“We were waiting for you,” Je

“Heeeey!” she says, smiling wide and bright with her face, but keeping her head in place as the bald guy in a tight shirt snips and chops at it.

“Hey you. Good to see you, Je

“Thank you so much for letting me in on this, Brando,” Je

“Hardly,” I scoff. “You’re already flawless, both of you. But I’m glad you’re enjoying.” I glance at Haley. “You need strength to get to the top. But you need strong friends to stay there.”

“I got more clothes today than I have in the past two years,” Haley says, before winking. “I’ll show you if you’re free tonight.”

I smile just enough not to set off her alarm bells, but it takes a lot of effort.

“Actually I’m not.”

Haley pouts.

“And neither are you,” I continue.

“What do you mean?” Haley says, frowning for a second before the bald guy adjusts her head slightly. “I thought the next studio session was tomorrow afternoon?”

“It’s not a studio session.”

“Well, what, then? Quit teasing this out!”

“Yeah, Brando!” Je

I pause a little before answering.

“You’re on Conan.”

Their jaws drop at the same time, and they turn to look at each other slowly at the same time, mirror images.

Then they scream.

The bald guy leaps back, palms out like Haley just combusted in front of him, before turning to me with a glare as if I caused it. I shrug, and the next thing I know Haley’s pressing up against me, hair-filled bib still wrapped around her shoulders, insatiable tongue between my lips.

I try to be cold. Try to be smart. Try to keep myself from putting my arms around her and pressing my lips back on hers. But it doesn’t work. I can’t. Haley’s nothing like Lexi. This is nothing like before. I’ve never felt so good. This time it’s real, and I’m go

Chapter 16

Haley

A sore throat. That’s why I’m here in the green room of one of the biggest late night talk shows in the world. The lead singer of the band that was supposed to play got a sore throat. That’s all it took.

That, and Brando.

“How you feeling?” he says, and I spin around to see him standing there, always big and strong, always supporting me. I press a hand against his cheek and kiss him gently.

“My teeth are chattering, my knees feel like they’re made out of silly string, and I’m not sure if this new haircut makes me look incredibly hot, or like a preteen who found her mother’s hair product,” I say. “But I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good in my life.”