Rock All Night(2)

Two elephants, one room – not a good combination. In fact, if they clashed, there was going to be blood.

Probably from my heart, smashed and broken on the floor.

“…why don’t we save that question for later, and maybe get some of the catching up out of the way first,” I suggested.

He shrugged. “Okay.”

Just then a waiter came up from behind me and set down a glass in front of Derek. Bourbon, neat.

Derek didn’t even look at the waiter, just at me. “You want a drink?”

“No.”

Now he looked at the waiter. “Get her the same as me.”

“NO,” I said loudly.

“Then what do you want?”

I looked up the waiter. “I don’t want anything, thank you.”

Derek grinned. “You’re getting one whether you want it or not, so you might as well pick something you like.”

“Rolling Stone’s not going to pay for a ton of top-shelf liquor.”

“We both know that’s not true. If they get an interview with me out of it, they’d pay for a tableful of blow. But Rolling Stone’s not buying, I am.”

I bristled. “I’m not drinking it.”

“Can’t force you to drink it, but I can order it for you.”

I gritted my teeth. “…fine. A glass of merlot.”

“Best bottle you’ve got,” Derek ordered.

I looked up at the waiter. “Just a glass of the house merlot will be fine.”

“Best bottle you’ve got,” Derek said commandingly. “And don’t listen to anything else she says.”

The waiter just nodded and walked away.

“Is that what you do now?” I asked, annoyed.

“Do what?” he asked as he took a sip of his drink.

“The whole rock star power trip – ‘nothing but the best for me and my crew’ thing?”

Derek smiled. “I saw this MTV Cribs episode once – ”

“You watched MTV Cribs?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise.

“My roommate Dale watched it all the time on DVD. Obsessively.”

“The stoner pizza delivery guy?”

“Good memory,” he said, sounding impressed. “Anyway, there was this rock musician on there – can’t remember who – and all of his hanger-ons wanted Cristal at parties, so he kept a bunch of empty Cristal bottles and just filled them up with cheap champagne. I remember he said something like, ‘Those idiots can’t tell the difference.’”


“So ‘the best bottle you’ve got’ – is that code for an empty bottle of whatever the equivalent of Cristal is in merlot? And they’re going to fill it with – ”

“Boone’s Farm,” Derek finished, a playful smile on his face.

“So I guess that makes me one of the idiots,” I said sardonically – which Derek took a little too seriously.

“No! Jesus,” he growled. “It was just a funny story. I’m happy you’re here – aren’t you happy to be here?”

It took me a second to answer.

“…yes.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

I was silent for a few more seconds. Then I decided, I’m tired of talking around the elephants.

“Do you know I actually rejected this job when they offered it to me?”

“What? Why?” he asked, truly sounding mystified.

“You have no idea?” I asked, so not believing him.

“No, I don’t. Why?”

“We have a certain… history together.”

He cocked one eyebrow and gave a seductive little smile. “Yes, we do.”

“Which is making this really uncomfortable for me.”

The seductive smile disappeared. “Why?”

“What are you, three years old? ‘Why, why, why?’”

He laughed. “I want to know!”

A glass of red wine miraculously appeared next to me. “Thank you,” I said to the waiter.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled.

Derek gave the guy a ‘head nod’ of thanks without actually saying it, and the waiter departed.

“I’m not drinking it,” I said to Derek.

“Riiight. You always say you’re not going to do things, and then you wind up doing them anyway,” he said mischievously.

I shot a death glare at him.

He looked at me for a moment, like he was deciding whether he ought to go through with something or not. Then he evidently decided, because he sat up, put his elbows on the table, and leaned over conspiratorially.

“I’d say one of the things you always liked about me is that I told the truth. I never sold you a line of crap, and I was never afraid to tell it like it is. Would you say that’s fair?”

My heart immediately began speeding up as I remembered him telling Shanna, I’m in love with your roommate.

“…that’s fair,” I grudgingly agreed.

“Okay, here it is: I don’t trust many people, Kaitlyn. Every… single… f*cking… person out there wants a piece of me,” he said, and for the first time I heard real bitterness and anger in his voice. It was a tone I’d only heard him use when he was talking about his despised step-father. “And as far as journalists go, if I won’t give it to them willingly, they’re more than happy to cut it off of me. Their little pound of flesh.”