A Beautiful Rock Read online

  The man who had his back to me, turns and gives me a really unimpressed look. “Are you serious?”

  The other one just starts laughing and places his hand on the annoyed man’s shoulder. “Don’t mind Craig. He thinks the whole world revolves around his clients. What do you want with Marcus?” he asks, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement as he continues to flash that grin at me.

  Butterflies threaten to take flight in my stomach as my gaze connects with his. But I squash them down, imagining a pair of heavy boots jumping up and down and keeping them firmly in place.

  “I have an interview with him. I’m Lisa Russell, from Voyeur Magazine…”

  “You’re here to interview Marcus and you don’t know who he is?” Craig asks, and suddenly I’m cursing Sandra for pressuring me to do this. I knew I wouldn’t be able to pull this off.

  “Um, yeah. I’m kind of covering for a friend though. Sandra Hagen? She was supposed to come today, but she had a last minute appointment… We can reschedule if you want. I’m just trying to help her out.”

  “No, it’s fine,” the first one says, running his hand over the top of his close cropped blond hair. “Come this way.”

  “Thanks,” I say gratefully, as I follow him over to an area where there are two chairs and a small table with a jug of iced water and two glasses set up.

  He takes a seat and gestures for me to take the other one.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, my eyebrows creasing as my confusion sets in.

  “I’m Marcus,” he states, leaning back in his chair with a cock sure grin on his face.

  My mouth drops open and my face flames with embarrassment, as I wonder why he couldn’t have just said something in the first place. Now I look like a fucking idiot. Great. He’ll never accept an interview with Voyeur again and it will be all my fault. I probably just got Sandra fired as well… shit. I knew I should have taken an extra five minutes before arriving to look him up.

  This just serves to prove me right – good-looking men can't be trusted.

  I swallow my discomfort. “Ok. I um… guess we should get started then,” I say as I take the seat opposite him.

  “Wow, you really don’t’ know who I am do you?”

  I snap my eyes up to meet his, my face burning from this awkwardness. I just need this done and over.

  “No I don’t. I’m sorry ok? As I said, I’m covering for a friend last minute. I have her questions though, so I hope that will be ok. I just don’t listen to much current music.”

  “What do you listen to?”

  I stifle an eye roll. I can tell by the upturned corner of his mouth that I've just managed to attract his attention on a little more than a professional level. I try to act nonchalant as I answer.

  “Sixties stuff, you know – the Beatles, the Doors, Cat Stevens, Janis Joplin – things like that. I just don’t think today’s music holds a card to any of it,” I rattle off, before noticing the expression on his face fall. Oh shit. Now I’ve gone and offended him. Get it together, Lisa. This is Sandra’s job you’re messing with you can work on your pride later. Suddenly, I feel a little guilty about my attitude toward him. It’s not his fault society fawns all over rock stars. I guess he can’t help his ego. “No… I’m sorry. I don’t mean any offence to you. I mean, you could be the exception to the rule, right? I… oh shit. Can we just start again?”

  He presses his lips together in a tight smile. “It’s fine, really. Let’s just get this interview done.”

  Great. Now I've pissed him off. Taking a deep breath, I pull out my phone and start the voice recorder then run through the list of questions Sandra gave me. I barely make eye contact the whole time, and I swear I’m shaking noticeably. Most of the time, I just wish that the ground would open up and swallow me so this could be over sooner.

  I just walked in here acting like a queen bitch when I should have been acting professional for the sake of my best friend.

  When the questions are finally over, I stand and thank Marcus for his time, apologising once again for not doing my homework.

  “It’s fine. It was kind of nice to talk to someone who doesn’t know me. I spend a lot of time around anything but.”

  I nod in response. “I’m sure if there are any issues with the interview, you or your people will get a call, but I think I got everything I was supposed to.” I turn to walk away, but stop when he reaches out and touches my arm.

  My breath catches at the skin-to-skin connection. Shit. Those butterflies are trying to take flight again. I turn to face him and force my breathing to stay steady, as he moves closer to me and leans in to speak quietly to me.

  “Listen, before you go, I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner tonight?”

  I step back, increasing the distance between us. “With you?”

  “Yeah, me.” He grins, looking very sure of himself.

  “Um… I don’t think so.”

  He frowns, seemingly taken aback by my refusal. “Can I ask why?”

  I look around the room nervously, hoping no one is listening into this. “Listen I’ve read enough books and seen enough films to know how this works. Guys like you are used to clicking your fingers and having girls drop their panties. A girl comes along who doesn’t seem impressed by you, piques your interest, so you chase them down until they give in. Let’s not have this be something like that. Just accept the ‘no’ and go find some girl who’s willing to spread her legs for you. Ok?”

  He laughs. “Wow. You’ve got me all figured out don’t you?”

  “Who knows what the hell goes on in a man’s head? I just know that I’m no notch on a bedpost. I’m no prize to be won, or game to be caught. I’m not interested. It was nice to meet you though,” I tell him with a curt nod as I spin on my heel and head toward the exit.

  “I’ll see you around Lisa,” he calls after me.

  Intent on ignoring him, I fail miserably and only make it a couple of steps before I pause and turn around again. This time I don’t care who hears.

  “Just so we’re clear. I’m not saying ‘no’ so you chase me. I’m not playing some sort of game. It’s just a plain ‘no’ ok?”

  “Sure. I get it,” he laughs, his eyes are actually sparking as he continues to watch me amusedly. I nod again, feeling as though I’ve pushed my point across as much as I’m going to and turn to leave again.

  I can feel his eyes on me, the entire time I’m heading out of the studio. I tell myself not to look back at him. I force myself to keep my eyes focused on the exit sign. But, as I round the corner, I can’t help myself. I glance toward where he’s still standing, still watching me. My breath catches as our eyes lock and he laughs. A deep loud belly laugh.

  Shit. I’m in trouble.

  Chapter 3

  Lisa

  “So? How did it go?” Sandra asks when lunch time rolls around.

  The moment I got into work, I was called into a meeting with a new client and haven’t had the chance to get the interview recording to her yet.

  “It was fine. Everything was fine,” I say. “I’ll email you the voice recording from my phone before the day is through.” I hand her the folder she gave me that contained a brief biography and the interview questions. “Although, you could have included a photo in that. I made bit of a fool of myself when I walked up to him and asked if he knew where I could find Marcus Bailey.”

  Her hand covers her mouth as she laughs. “You didn’t? Oh my god! That’s hilarious. What did he say? Was he pissed?”

  “No. He just laughed and said to follow him. I thought he was just some guy, taking me to meet Marcus, but then he sat down and announced he was Marcus, and I spent the rest of the interview with my face burning with embarrassment.”

  “Well… I’m sorry you were embarrassed. But thank you for doing that for me. I really appreciate it.”

  “It’s ok. I just don’t want to do that again. So no more banging rock stars unless you’re willing to interview them again – ok?”


  She laughs. “Agreed. My knees shall stay firmly pressed together from this moment on.”

  I pick up my bag, ready to go out for some fresh air and something to eat.

  “What did you think?”

  I pause and look at her. “Of what?”

  “Of him. He’s pretty easy on the eyes right? Did he um… try anything with you?”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t think much at all. And no. He didn’t try anything.” I touch her shoulder gently as I speak. I know that technically, he did try something when he asked me out to dinner. But she doesn’t need to know that.

  I doubt I’ll ever have reason to cross paths with Marcus Bailey ever again.

  Marcus

  I’ve just spent an entire day feeling distracted after my interaction with Lisa. I like her. I don’t know if it’s just because she didn’t know who I was or if it’s just her. She seemed so… genuine. No one speaks to me the way she did. She was… refreshing.

  In my dressing room, I pull out a pad of paper and a pen and scrawl a note before calling out to my assistant, Karen.

  She appears in the doorway, her greying eyebrows raised in question as she looks at me over the rim of her glasses. I purposely hired a woman who was old enough to be my mother. She’s the one who keeps my life organised. I didn’t want her to be a distraction to me at all.

  “Send this to Voyeur Magazine, care of Lisa Russell. Include two tickets for the show this Saturday and VIP passes,” I say as I fold the piece of paper and hand it to her.

  “Sure,” she says with a smile, taking the folded note from between my fingers. “Are there any particular seats you’d like me to give her?”

  “Front, centre.”

  “Of course.” She knows what this is about. It’s not the first time she’s sent one of these notes off for me. Although it has been a while since I’ve done it. But VIP passes and front and centre tickets to a show have always been a sure winner when I’m interested in a woman. And Lisa Russell is definitely a woman I’m interested in.

  Lisa

  Marcus Bailey has been connected with more women than the tabloids can even count. A quick search on Google shows image after image of him with his arm wrapped around various women. Very rarely do I see him pictured with the same woman twice.

  As I scroll through the images I do see one woman who pops up more often. She is a tiny blonde girl who looks a little similar to Sandra actually. There are photos of them together posing as well as photos of them with three other people. As I continue to look, I find images of her and Marcus singing on stage together. He has a lot more hair in these photos… they must be old as they’re showing him in a band called Matiari.

  I don’t know why I’m spending my lunch break looking him up on my phone. I’m telling myself that it’s just because I should have looked him up earlier. But it’s more than that. He’s been on my mind since I met him. I feel stupid doing this. But I console myself with the thought that no one needs to know.

  I enlarge a few of the photos of him when he was in the band. I have to say he seems a hell of a lot happier in the old band photos then he does in his new shots. I wonder what made him leave…

  One of the shots shows him singing at the blonde. She looks mortified and the caption with the photo has the word ‘scandal’ in it. I click and I’m taken to YouTube - to a video with over 200 million views.

  I click the play icon and an amateur video filmed from within the audience loads on my screen, showing the band on stage. At first there’s just a huge amount of screaming from the fans and then Marcus leans into the microphone.

  “I’ll bet you guys are loving Naomi, right?” he calls out. The crowd all screams in agreement as he walks over to the blonde from the photos. She’s holding a violin at her side. She looks confused but she smiles and waves then looks over her shoulder toward the drummer. I have a terrible feeling about this, and I’m really not sure I want to keep watching.

  Marcus moves to stand right in front of her and leans toward her microphone. “Yeah. I love her too,” he says, his voice calm but aggressive.

  He returns to his microphone, leaving the blonde looking visibly shaken. “Now, Naomi is a fan of Aiden Price.” The crowd screams at the mention of his name. Even I know who Aiden Price is. Marcus shakes his head. “No, he won’t be here tonight, but I get that a lot of you are probably fans as well. Actually, I am too. A while back, as a bit of a treat we did his song ‘I Recall’, but tonight, I’d like to do something a little different. I have a special song, just for Naomi. This one is called ‘Weighted’.”

  I place my hand on my chest. “Oh you didn’t?” I say to no one in particular. I know this song. Aiden Price is one of the few modern artists that I actually listen to. His music is very raw and emotive. It isn’t that same four-chord bullshit that dominates the charts.

  ‘Weighted’ is about a relationship gone wrong - one where the singer can’t stand to even look at his lover any longer. It’s about a love that’s straddles that line and is turning into hate. I can’t imagine what this woman could have done to him to make him feel warranted by singing this. But I can’t watch anymore – he’s publicly humiliating that girl. She’s trying to act professional and play the song for the audience, but it is so obvious that when he sings ‘Cause you’re a bitch to be around’, that he’s directing it at her.

  A sick feeling rises in my throat. I find the video far too confronting to continue watching.

  I tap the screen to pause the video and shut down my phone’s browser. I wish I hadn’t looked him up now.

  ***

  "This came for you while you were at lunch," the receptionist, Erin, informs me, handing me a white envelope as I re-enter the building.

  “Thanks.” There's nothing on the envelope except for my name, so I have no idea what's inside. I open it straight away, expecting it to be something work related. But it’s not.

  I sigh audibly. Why couldn’t he just leave me be?

  I watch Erin’s eyes grow wide as she sees me remove two tickets and VIP passes that clearly state ‘Marcus Bailey’ on them.

  I open the note they come with. It simply reads –

  Perhaps I am the exception to the rule…

  Marcus

  Keeping my expression neutral, I slip the note into my pocket and replace the tickets and passes inside the envelope. "Would you like these?" I say to Erin, holding the envelope out to her.

  Her hand flies out to grab it, but hesitates. “You don’t want them? Are you sure? That show was sold out months ago. I am such a huge fan of his,” she gushes.

  “Then they’re yours. Have a great time.”

  “Oh wow. I will. Thank you so much.” She accepts the envelope from me and immediately spills out its contents and holds the passes against her chest. “Thank you!” she squeals, just before she reaches for her phone to make a call.

  I smile and nod at her and mouth ‘you’re welcome’ as I walk away. I can’t help but laugh as I overhear her hysterically telling a friend about the tickets.

  When I get back to my office, I read over the note again. So far he’s anything but the exception to the rule. He’s currently being incredibly cliché. Marcus Bailey is one very cocky man. I’ll bet he does this kind of thing with women all the time. Well, he won’t be winning over this one. I ball the note up tightly and drop it in the wastepaper basket under my desk before breaking into a grin. It would almost be worth going to his concert just to see the look on his face when he sees a couple of squealing eighteen year olds in those seats. It will serve him right for being so presumptuous.

  My grin fades fast though. Men like Marcus can have any girl they want. He won’t feel affected for too long.

  Chapter 4

  Marcus

  Saturday night has rolled around and I’m out on stage, going through my set. The lighting blackens the audience and I can’t see any faces. But I feel sure that Lisa will be here. I’m really keen to see her again as I haven’t stopped thinking about
her all week. It’s so unusual for me to feel like this, especially after only meeting her once.

  I don’t know what it is. I may bang her and lose interest like I do with every other girl, and I may not… who knows? But I can’t get her out of my head. The way her cheeks flamed red with embarrassment when she realised that she had asked the Marcus Bailey where to find himself, and then how she struggled to make eye contact with me through the rest of the interview. And those eyes of hers…wow…just…wow. I think I could look at them all day.

  Her embarrassment was just such a normal interaction. There was no bravado. There was no ambition. She was just a person. She made me feel like a regular person too. I’m craving more.

  As usual, the crowd is screaming for me. They have been all night. Sometimes I wonder if I sung the wrong words if they’d even notice. The noise can be so deafening that there are times when I can barely hear the music myself.

  My final song is one called ‘Incredible’. I have purposely chosen this one last because I know that the spotlight is going to sweep over the first few rows of the audience and I’ll get to see her.

  If I’ve played my cards right, she’ll think I’m singing this song for her. We’ll make eye contact and when she comes back stage we’ll be able to get to know each other a little better.

  I figure if I can have just one night with her, I’ll find out if this is just some weird infatuation because she didn’t know who I am, or maybe there’s actually something there. Or maybe, this is all a set up and she knew who I was all along…. It’s so hard to trust people. No one seems genuine to me anymore.

  I do my normal thing and introduce the band members, thanking them all for playing for me tonight and then I launch into the song.

  It’s me on guitar and the keyboardist, playing together as I sing.

  Your eyes

  Oh, they’re always shining