Page 20
Yeah, I skewed the truth a little. Figured telling them we ran away might dampen our chances for help. Make us look all rebellious, you know?
Rome’s father Harold nodded in agreement. “Absolutely, Leah. You’re like family, dear.”
I smiled back. This was looking good. At first, when the zebra car owner found us in his car and screamed at us to get out (swinging the world’s most non-threatening zebra handled Swiss army knife at us), I thought heartily about returning to the trailer. I was sure Russell hadn’t discovered me yet, so maybe I’d put the entire night behind. But Carter was unyielding in his decision never to go back, and as we walked for hours in the shopping centre, waiting for the pounding rain outside to stop, my thoughts travelled to Rome and how good his family had been to me.
We were close. When I wasn’t hanging out with Carter, Rome would be there to pick me up in his Jeep and we’d drive to the bar his family owned. At least a night a week we’d dine there and Marlena would be kicking around, talking to me like I wasn’t the trashy girl everyone thought I was. They were quite disconnected with my side of the tracks, though. They lived a little ways away, their multi-generational house – which felt like a mansion to me – was on an acreage while their bar was in the centre of Abbotsford. They were familiar with other people, and while I had a feeling they’d heard about Aunt Cheryl’s activities, I know they didn’t paint a bad picture of me. It was why I was so comfortable with them and had decided to show up here with Carter to ask for a place to stay until we figured out our next step.
Issue was, Carter wasn’t doing a good job selling his likeability. He hadn’t wanted to come here, but tough luck. I didn’t blame them for frowning. He was being broody and quiet. Looking like some bad boy didn’t help matters either.
“I’m sure we can have a room ready for you,” Marlena carried on, staring solely at me. “There’s no rush to leave either. We could certainly use more hands at the bar. We’ll work something out for you.”
Shit, what about Carter? I glanced at Rome and raised my brows at him. He could read my thoughts clear as a bell. He needed to help me out a bit. I could see his reluctance, but I wiggled those brows and motioned to Carter.
He grunted and mumbled, “What about the suite downstairs? It’s a two bedroom and we’ve been looking for some renters. I’m sure Leah and… Carter” – scowl – “could work at the bar and pay off the rent. We could arrange a deal that could work out well for all of us.”
Harold looked a bit disgruntled by this. “Uh, I’m not sure that we’d need another pair of hands, son. I’m sure Leah would be just enough for now.”
Carter tensed beside me and I felt helpless.
“He can sing,” I suddenly said, turning to Harold. “He’s got an amazing voice, one that could bring in a crowd. It might be good for business having him around. That way he can earn some money by bringing in more customers. With a face like his, there’ll be chicks everywhere, I’m sure of it.”
Yeah, I’d thought about this a lot on our way here, ways to give Carter some usefulness. It ultimately led to his singing because I was aware the bar was weak in the entertainment area, and with how big it was, I knew there was potential for something great.
Now Carter’s mouth dropped open. He never sang around anybody but me. I shrugged at him. What was I meant to do? He would need to suck it up.
“You can sing?” Marlena then asked, suddenly looking at him with a new set of lens.
“Like an angel,” I answered for him. “He’s incredible. Honestly. If he had a band, he’d absolutely slay the crowd.”
Now Harold and Marlena were looking at one another, deliberating quietly.
I felt Carter’s foot hitting mine. I looked at him and saw the fire in his eyes. Anger brimmed out of him.
“The hell you doing?” he whisper-hissed at me after he leaned into my ear.
“Saving our asses from homelessness,” I whisper-hissed back. “And you owe me.”
He didn’t reply. He sat back in his chair and turned his scowl at Rome. Rome simply returned the look, and I didn’t really care if they were going to bite each other’s heads off, because ten minutes later Marlena and Harold had made their decision.
“We can use a band,” Harold said thoughtfully. “Our bar started off on live music. We’ve actually advertised for some through the papers, but the people that have showed up were…what word should I use, Marlena?”
“Dreadful,” Marlena said without pause. “Absolutely dreadful.”
“Dreadful is a strong word, hon.”
“It’s the right word, Harold.”
“But it’s a little harsh.”
“Truth doesn’t always taste nice,” she snapped back, bitterly.
“Well anyways,” Harold continued, ignoring her pointed glare, “the point is, we could use a band indefinitely.”
“I don’t have a band,” Carter suddenly said. It was the first words he’d spoken to them since being invited inside, and it came out sounding rude.
“That’s an easy fix,” I cut in with a reassuring smile. “We’ll find some guys.”
He stared at me severely, his lips pressing down on one another so hard they went a little white. Rome could be heard snickering across from us, and it took everything in me not to belt him. Be cool, I told myself.
“If we’re going to find some guys, I’d like it to be up to me to decide who gets in then,” Carter explained, and he did it in a way that brooked no argument. “It’ll be my band, not anyone else’s.”
“Only because he’s good at running things,” I swiftly added, smiling at the Myers while I did my best to control my own irritation. He was trying to sabotage this, but it wasn’t going to happen.
“As long as you don’t sing about drug abuse and explicit fornication, and it’s not screaming or guttural noises coming out of your lungs, then I can live with all that,” Harold returned just as firmly.
Carter leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. For a moment I admired his bulging biceps, that was until he opened his mouth and said, “When you say explicit fornication, am I to presume every form of fornication, both the soft and the… hard?”