Page 6 of Playing for Possession
Dad perched on the desk. “I’m sure he’ll come round.”
Unlikely.He’d seemed adamant and he was notorious for his bullishness. This was amazing news.
Dad caught his reflection in the window and smoothed a hand over his hair. “That commercial is a brilliant idea for Joanie. It’salways good to get out of your comfort zone.” He pointed a finger at me. His jeweled rings flickered under the bright office lights. “You know I’ve always said you’re a lot like Phil.”
Claire’s lips parted slightly, betraying her curiosity. “Phil?”
Oh gosh.Why had she asked?
“Our drummer. Phil hates the limelight. He lets the rest of the band shine.” Dad inspected one of the heavy silver crucifixes dangling around his neck. “Joanie is the drummer of the family. I’m the lead, obviously. Chloe’s on guitar. Elsie’s on keyboard.”
Sometimes Dad was so cringe. “Don’t, Dad,” I grumbled.
“You know what I mean, sweetheart. It’s not a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong with percussion. Phil is important. He keeps it all ticking along.” Dad’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “We wouldn’t have made it out of that Thailand tour alive without Phil. All my children have something different to bring to the band. You all complement each other.”
What a compliment. My siblings were fun and exciting, and I was percussion. It’s not like I’d chosen to be boring. I kept my face level to humor him even though I wanted the ground to swallow me up. If I could have one superpower, it would be invisibility. Whenever Dad showed up like this, all I wanted to do was disappear.
“You forgot Ollie,” I said.
“Did I?” Dad smiled blandly. “Sure. Your brother can... bring the snacks. The point is, you need to push yourself. You can’t jump from percussion to lead guitar, but maybe smaller steps. This commercial is perfect for that.”
Dad clapped his hands with an elaborate flourish. “Carpe diem. We’ll figure something out. This is your chance to seize the day. Do you know what I realized last year after the incident?”
Not the incident. Dad had choked on a cocktail sausage at an award ceremony, and now we had to hear about his brush withdeath every other day. He leaned in to Claire. She shifted back slightly in her chair.
“A little cylinder of pork, that’s all it takes.” His eyes widened with animation, and he touched his finger and thumb together, making a circle. “I saw my whole life flash before my eyes. You get one life. Live it to the fullest. I want to see you thrive, sweetheart. That’s all I want for you. I’ve got a good feeling about this. Earnshaw will see sense.” Dad slid off the desk, winked, and put an arm around me. “It will all be fine. If I were you, I’d be a good girl and grab this opportunity with both hands.”
I brushed his arm off and shot him a pleading look.Not here, Dad. Please. Not in front of my manager. I’m twenty-three, not twelve.
Dad headed for the door and paused, turning back to Claire. “I’ll see you at my funeral, right?”
Claire frowned. “I’m sorry?”
“My funeral next month? Everyone’s invited. Didn’t you get the email? It’s a living funeral. After theincident, I thought, why wait until you’re a goner to get everyone together to tell you what you mean to them? Life is too short to wait until you’re dead. It’ll be a small affair... understated... elegant... just a few hundred close friends and family.”
He pressed his lips together thoughtfully. “We’ll probably have a live performance. One or two tracks from the new album. A few select music journalists.” His gaze traveled over Claire’s tracksuit and he wrinkled his nose. “Smart casual. You’ll be fine. No need to dress up. I’d love to have as many people from the club as I can.” He flashed a beaming smile full of white teeth. “I might only own eight percent of Calverdale, but this club owns one hundred percent of me.”
A polite smile stretched across Claire’s lips, and it was the most patient and restrained I’d ever seen my manager. “Yes, Mortimer. I’d love to come to your funeral. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Chapter 3
Kieran
Music vibrated with a dull thud through the floor, mingling with laughter and drunken voices from a packed VIP lounge. I sipped my too-sweet lemonade. The ice was cold against my teeth. No beer tonight. I had to be on better behavior. From the mezzanine, I watched Jack on the dance floor below. Strobe lights illuminated his laughing face as he danced in the midst of frenetic swaying bodies.
“Looks like Jack’s having fun.”
I suppressed my sigh. The last person I wanted to get stuck talking to on a night out was Sean Wallace. He had a problem with me. My captain had a problem with everyone, but he didn’t try to hide it with me.
Sean nodded thoughtfully and took a sip from his bottle of beer. “He’s a good kid.”
“He is.”
Sean kept his gaze fixed on the dance floor. “Although, I heard he had a bit of trouble at Yorford?”
The music pulsed too loud. “No trouble. I don’t know what you’ve heard.”
He gave a humorless chuckle and shook his head. “I remember what it was like at his age. I was lucky I had my dad around to rein me in. It must be tough for you both on your own.”
