Love Drunk Read online

  I placed it back to my ear. “I’m very serious, it’s all in the contract.”

  “What’s it doing? I want all the details!”

  I grimaced, not looking forward to her response. “I’ll be Dante’s P.A., making sure that he stays away from alcohol, drugs, and women.”

  She gasped. “You have got to be kidding me?”

  “Nope. I’ve just finished the interview with one of the record producers. She said I have the job if I want it.”

  “No, no, no, you can’t work for Dante, but… How can he offer so much?”

  I glanced at the embossed logo on the page. “Dante’s signed to a well-known record label. He lives in a freaking mansion in Herne Bay.”

  “You are talking about Dante, right? The tattooed, gang member.”

  “He’s not a gang member anymore, Georgie, and he has a great voice.” My thoughts went to the musical I’d cast him in when he was a kid. “No, it’s not great, it’s amazing. He also has an amazing presence on stage. The time he sung Matchbox 20’s Bent on stage even silenced a teacher who hated him. He was so good, Georgie.”

  “I bet he was,” she said, her tone filled with sarcasm. “And I bet you’ll fall right back into his bed and get hurt. That man will kill you, CC. It may not be by his hand, but he will. You almost died in prison because you couldn’t control yourself around him. What do you think will happen if you take this job, no matter how much money it pays?”

  “He’s an adult now,” I said, flicking to the next page. A passport photo of Dante was stuck above information about him. I ran a finger over the picture, wanting him so bad.

  “Yeah, adult is the word. He freaking worked in porn.”

  “That may not be true,” I said, even though I knew it was, what Tyler had told me hard to refute.

  “Well, it’s written in his damn file.”

  “Either way, I’m still considering taking the job.”

  “We’ll talk about it when you come back to Simon’s.”

  “I’m never going back to Simon’s, and if I accept this job, I’ll be living in Dante’s house.”

  “No, Clara, you can’t!”

  I grimaced, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry, I can’t keep wondering what if, Georgie. I need him to remember the good times, to remember loving me. If he can do that, maybe we could get back what we lost.”

  “You can’t be serious, he’s not that fifteen-year-old boy anymore, Clara. He’s a fully-grown man—”

  “Who I love dearly!” I snapped, not believing she was making out as though I’d only been attracted to Dante’s youth. If anything, I found Dante more attractive now, the man pure sex. “And it was never his age I fell for, it was Dante.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way, I meant he’s not as innocent as he once was.”

  “Dante wasn’t innocent when I was with him.”

  “Regardless, you can’t seriously be thinking about getting with someone who’s done porn. Just think where his dick has been.”

  I scowled. “Quit it, Georgie.”

  “No, come back, Simon still wants—”

  “I don’t give a shit what Simon wants!” I barked, having had enough of her touting that bastard’s false virtues. “Dante is a hundred times better than that arsehole, and I don’t want you staying with Simon. He woke me up with his face between my legs.”

  “What?!”

  “Yes, I was dreaming about Dante, yet when I opened my eyes it was Simon doing all of the things I was dreaming Dante was doing. I don’t know what I said in my dream, he claims it was yes, but all I know is I was asleep and he took advantage of me.”

  “Christ,” Georgie gasped. “I can’t believe Simon would do something like that, he’s so—”

  “—good at lying. I learned a lot about him yesterday. He’s bigoted, Georgie, thinks gay people are warped. He also bossed me around like some domineering arsehole, then tried to make out I’d done him wrong when I called out Dante’s name after coming. I didn’t know it was Simon, I never gave him permission to touch me like that.”

  “I’m so, so sorry, Clara. You should report him to the boss. Don’t leave because of him, he should leave.”

  “And what will happen when he tells the boss about my conviction? Simon hid it from Royce without my knowledge, only hiring me because he was interested in me. If I accuse Simon of anything, he’ll pull up my record, making out that I’d tried to hide it. He even told me he’d do it.”

  “I … I can’t believe this. I had no idea he was like that. Regardless, you can’t let him get away with this.”

  “He already has, and right now, I’m done with it. I’ve got this amazing job offer, one that pays more than twice my counselling salary. I can’t turn it down.”

  “Well, Clara, just remember, if you take it, you won’t just be accepting that money, you’ll be accepting everything that comes with Dante.”

  “I realise that.”

  “No, I don’t think you do. What about Killer?”

  “He didn’t leave that note or hurt your friend, he was released, proven innocent.”

  “Then who did it?”

  “I have no idea.”

  19

  Dante

  “I ain’t fuckin’ singing that shit!” I snapped, glaring at Jade. We were in the studio, meant to be recording the album, but Jade had just dropped a load of shite on me, the songs he wanted me to sing so goddamn nauseating I wanted to chunder.

  Jade paced back and forth in front of the couch I was sitting on, looking like he was going to blow his stack at any moment. But I didn’t give a toss, because he’d caused this problem, not me.

  “You’ll sing it, end of story!” he barked, coming to a standstill in front of me.

  I pushed up off the couch, throwing the music sheets at him. “Not happening. I don’t sing bloody love ballads, end of story.”

  I turned to go. Jade grabbed my arm. I wrenched free and spun around on him, getting my face down to his level. “Back off,” I growled. “Before I really lose my shit.”

  He jerked his head back. “What the hell, Dante?! Why are you being like this? The songs are great, you’re just sore they’re not yours.”

  “No, I’m sore that you’d think I’d sing that crap. You know I like rock, reggae, and rap.”

  “Rock has love ballads.”

  “Not sappy crap like L wrote. There’s no way I’m singing ’bout unrequited love.” I spread my arms out. “Look at me! Do ya seriously think I would get turned down by a chick? They’ll be mooning after me, not the other way around.”

  “You told me your first girlfriend left you for someone else.”

  “For Christ’s sake, I wuz thirteen and she wuz sixteen, of course she wuz gonna leave me. And I didn’t moon after that skank. I fuckin’ hated her guts after what she did to me. She could crawl back on her hands and knees, begging for my dick, and I’d tell her to go fuck herself.”

  “Still, everyone relates to these kind of songs.”

  “Not me. I relate to people fucking me over, like you’re tryna do now.”

  “I’m not fucking you over,” he spat. “You’re fucking me over! You signed that contract, agreeing—”

  “—to sing good songs. So, lemme use my own stuff, while L can do the music side of things. That’s what she’s good at.”

  “You aren’t running the show here, I am.” He tugged at the lapels on his expensive jacket, trying to prove his worthless point. “And L is the best in the industry.”

  “For music and guitar riffs, not lyrics. And you hafta talk to her, cos seriously, that last song wuz obviously ’bout my bro. She just changed the gender so people didn’t think it wuz weird that I wuz singing ’bout a bloke.”

  “It wasn’t about Ash.”

  “Oh, come on, wavy black hair, the darkest of eyes, the sweetest of smiles… Okay, maybe not the last one, cos he’s a grouchy bastard, but still, that song wuz defo ’bout my bro, and there’s no way in hell I’m singing a love ballad ’bout
Ash. That’s fuckin’ sick.”

  “Okay, I’ll give it to another artist, but the other songs aren’t about Ash.”

  “Yeah, they’re poppy crap that I’d rather wipe my arse with than sing.”

  “Dante!”

  “What do you expect from me? You know what I’m like.”

  “I expect some sense of professionalism when it comes to work. And what do you expect from me? I have a business to run. I couldn’t wait around while you were off drinking yourself into a stupor. I had to start the project, and since you weren’t around, L helped out.”

  “Cry me a river, I’m still not singing that shite.”

  Jade shook his head at me. “You’re unbelievable. I offer you fame and fortune, and you throw a tantrum, saying you don’t want it? Have you gone mad?”

  I gritted my teeth, the fucker making me really want to down a bottle of Jack. I had felt semi-okay at the clinic, but now, I needed a drink so fucking bad it was causing me to lose my rag.

  I pointed a finger at him, about to spit out whatever unfair vile I had within me, but stopped at the sound of knocking.

  L poked her head through the doorway, her expression concerned. “Why are you two shouting? I could hear you all the way down the corridor.”

  “Cos of you,” I replied. “The Celine Dion of lyrics!”

  “Dante!” Jade snapped.

  I ignored him, my complete focus on L. “Did’ja seriously think I would sing that crap you wrote? I’d rather eat my own spew. Hell! I’d even prefer to fuck Jade, and everyone knows that’s one of my worst nightmares.”

  “Dante!” Jade yelled.

  “Yeah, fuckin’ yeah,” I spat back. “I’m unprofessional, what the fuck ever, I don’t give a flying shit. I’m outta ’ere, until you put music to my lyrics.”

  I picked up my folder off the table and dropped it at Jade’s feet, then headed for the door. L scrambled out of the way like a scared little mouse, irritating me even more. I hadn’t done anything to her, yet she treated me like the big bad wolf. The chick needed to get her issues under control if she wanted to work with me, because I wasn’t putting up with her crap.

  Flicking her the finger, I stormed out of the recording studio, not caring that I’d wasted a shitload of Jade’s money by halting the recording. The musicians waiting in the corridor were all being paid for their time, which right now involved sitting on their arses.

  “You lot might as well go home,” I said to them. “There’s no recording bein’ done today.”

  I took the elevator to the ground floor, stopping at the sight of Clara by the reception desk. She was dressed in a pencil skirt and a blouse, with her pink hair pulled back as if she was applying for a secretarial job, reminding me of how she used to dress as a teacher. I made a beeline for her, wondering whether she was here to accept the job as my P.A., or more accurately, babysitter.

  Her attention moved to me, the woman visibly swallowing. “Dante.”

  “Yeah, I know my name,” I replied, not in the mood to cushion her sweet toosh. I came to a halt in front of her, dwarfing her small frame. “So, you taking the job or what? Cos I need some shit done.”

  She nodded, holding out a folder. “I’ve signed the documents, and can start whenever you want me to.”

  “Now.” I took the documents out of her hand and slid the folder across the desk to the receptionist. “Clara starts today, Josie. Sort it.” I took hold of Clara’s arm, causing her to tense. Little did I care. I wasn’t in the mood for pissing about with anyone’s feelings, my need for a glass, or more accurately, a bottle of Jack growing stronger by the minute.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Out.”

  She pulled free from my grip, but continued to follow me through the door that led to the car park. “I need more information if I’m to drive you.”

  “I’ll drive.”

  “Nope, the contract states that I have to drive.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “You’re a P.A. not a chauffeur.”

  “Apparently, I’m both, plus I have an impeccable driving record.”

  “So? I have one, too.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “That accident up north wuzn’t my fault.”

  “I wasn’t referring to that. I was referring to the time you got caught driving dangerously after you had your driver’s licence suspended, which, by the way, was also for driving dangerously.”

  “How’ja find out ’bout that?” I asked, both incidents happening when I was nineteen.

  “It was in your rehab file.”

  I scratched my head, wondering how Jade knew, since he’d filled in my form. Then it dawned on me. The dirty pervert would’ve heard about my conviction while watching the illegal tapes of me. I’d been so pissed off about getting a shitload of community service that I’d punched a hole in my bedroom wall, yelling at Kara to shut her trap about it serving me right. But at least I’d avoided jail, because if the cops had clocked my top speed, I would’ve definitely gone down, one-hundred and ninety K no small feat. Though, it still riled me that Jasper had not only won the drag race, but had gotten away from the coppers, leaving me to eat his dust. Fuck, I’d been a chump to ever think I could beat him, my mate good enough to go pro.

  Clara indicated for me to follow her, which I did, the chick leading me to a rundown Civic, which was parked next to an Aston Martin of all cars. I burst out laughing, thinking it was hilarious.

  “What are you laughing at?” she snapped, getting all haughty, her offended tone making it even funnier.

  I wiped my eyes, not having had a good laugh like that in a long time. “I’m not gettin’ into that pile of junk, we’re taking my Mustang.” I pulled my keys out of my back pocket and chucked them to her, the clumsy chick almost dropping them. I headed for my red Mustang with black stripes, the paintjob a wet dream. “You better be tellin’ the truth ’bout bein’ a good driver, cos if you hurt my baby—”

  She cut me off, “I’m not a good driver, I’m a great driver.” She shot in front of me, opening my door before I could get a hand to it.

  I laughed again, highly amused, Clara loosening me up faster than a bottle of Jack. “You don’t hafta open my door for me.”

  “But it’s part of the job,” she replied, still holding it.

  “I doubt the contract says you must open doors for me.”

  “It does, it’s on page two.”

  I shook my head, Jade such a prima donna for putting that shite in there. “Ignore it, Jade’s just bein’ an entitled prat.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I’m not having a chick opening doors for me. If doors are to be opened, I’m doin’ it. And don’t go all feminist on me, I’m the boss.”

  I climbed into the front passenger seat, about to close the door, but Clara got to it first, closing it for me. I shook my head again, watching as she ran around to the driver’s side. She climbed behind the wheel, the seat too far back. I leaned over her, making her inhale sharply.

  I tapped the seat lever. “Pull that, so you can reach the pedals.” I retracted my arm, raising a brow when she didn’t move. “You want me to do it for ya?” I asked, my need for alcohol weakening further, replaced by another of my vices. I refrained from palming my dick, Clara making me horny as hell.

  “No, I can do it.” She shifted the seat forward, quickly putting on her seatbelt. “Where to?”

  “Home. When are you moving in?” I asked, Jade’s idea of her living with us something I definitely approved of.

  “Tonight, but I’ll be moving my stuff in at the weekend.”

  “Good,” I said, my eyes not leaving her as she started up the engine. “I wanna get the ball rolling on remembering shit.”

  She didn’t reply, instead backing out of the car park. Then she was leaving behind the music studio, and heading through the busy streets of Auckland’s CBD, aiming for Herne Bay. I was meant to move into Jade’s other house, which had its own studio, but had
dug my heels in, preferring to live closer to the city than out in the wops. Plus, it also meant that I could escape work when Jade was getting on my nerves, although I was sure I got on his more.

  Clara glanced at me, looking distinctly uncomfortable at my stare. She returned her attention to the traffic, slowing down for a red light. She glanced at me again. “Why are you staring at me?”

  “I asked you to help me remember. You’re not saying anything, so I’m tryna imagine bein’ with you.” I slouched in my seat and bit my lip. “Which I can do easily. You’re one hot chick, totally my type.”

  She flushed. “And now your employee, so keep it clean.”

  “Why? Cos you’re a prude?”

  “No!” she said, indignantly.

  “Then tell me sumpthin’ that shows you aren’t one, just make sure it’s to do with me.”

  She lifted her chin up in that haughty way of hers. “We made love up north in your cousin’s beach house, not caring that Marino was in the next room. Actually, once we even made love while he was in the same room. All we saw was each other, not even realising he was there until we’d finished.”

  My face went slack, what she’d said…

  Her cheeks went brighter. “What? You asked,” she said in a little girl’s voice, her haughtiness disappearing in a second.

  “You fucked me in front of my cuz?”

  “No, you fucked me in front of him. He didn’t care, was facing the other way. Not like he was interested in me, he was only interested in those Swedish siblings.”

  “Nah, Marino only fancied China, cos River’s a dude.”

  She pulled away from the light. “Nope, I think he was into both. We overheard a conversation between him and River. Apparently, they kissed.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “You’re fuckin’ with me, cos River… Nah, you’re totally fuckin’ with me.”

  She shook her head. “Marino was yelling at River over the phone, saying that River kissed him, not the other way around, but I got the distinct feeling there was a whole lot more that your cousin wasn’t admitting to. So, I’m guessing he didn’t end up with River if you don’t know about it.”

  “I have no idea who he’s with, haven’t spoken to him in years. He went into hiding to escape Craven. You know, the guy who wuz splashed all over the papers, the so-called entrepreneur who got shot.”