Page 4 of Scandal
“You’re not making any sense. Are you getting enough sleep?”
He chuckles. “No. But I’ll see you soon. Drive safe.”
He hangs up, and I’m left wondering, what exactly am I about to get myself into?
After another fake apology to the women at the table and a quick swipe of my debit card for my meal, I am on my way. One of the fun things about living in LA—I say this sarcastically—is that traffic is always a bit of a guessing game. A forty-minute drive can be quick, or it can take half an afternoon, so arriving anywhere on time takes skill.
I’ve heard it’s the same in every major city. Lots of people mean lots of traffic. But I’m convinced it’s worse here. No mass transit system, an unhealthy attachment to cars, and crazy commutes make it as much a part of our culture as warm weather and surfing.
But tonight, luckily, the drive is relatively short, and I reach Malibu in record time.
Most people would describe my parents’ home as impressive, even a bit extravagant. With its lush landscaping and mid-century modern style, it sits on the coast, offering breathtaking views of the Pacific. The interior combines luxury with the California-casual vibe my mother has spent years perfecting.
But to me…it just feels like home.
Stepping inside, I instantly feel the stress of the day melt away. Snobby sorority sisters and long hours at the studio are forgotten as I slip off my shoes and walk through the open foyer to the living room to find my father.
All I could think about on the drive here was what he might need from me that would make him so nervous. The man runs a massive corporation and manages the lives of rock stars. I didn’t even know he got nervous anymore.
Just before I reach the living room, I come to an abrupt halt as my brother’s voice breaks the silence.
Hendrix says in a heated tone, “It’s not fair for us to ask this of her.”
“We’ve tried everything else,” Zander replies.
Zander is here, too?
Zander is the lead guitarist and backup vocalist for Manic at Midnight. He’s also my honorary brother and Hendrix’s best friend. Like Hendrix, he was a late addition to the band after they had to fire their original member for some very questionable behavior.
To say they’ve had a few rough years is an understatement.
“He’s not answering any of our calls or texts, Hen,” Zander continues. “And when Darius went to see him at his family’s estate, he was turned away.”
Family’s estate?
Surely, they can’t be talking about…
“Maybe Daruis isn’t as charming as everyone thinks he is,” my brother says in a slightly mocking tone.
I roll my eyes. “You’re just mad at him ’cause he won’t stop flirting with Zara,” Zander quips.
“He does it right in front of me, the little asshole!”
Zander snorts. “Only because he knows it drives you crazy. You know he’d never go there. He just likes to give you shit.”
“I don’t see him giving you shit,” Hen grumbles.
“He knows better.” Zander laughs. “Plus, Elena once let him read a scene from one of her books and?—”
“What the fuck?” Hen interrupts him. “I’m your best friend. Why does he get your wife’s books? You still won’t even tell me her pen name!”
“It was a deleted scene from a book she ultimately scrapped. And like I told you the first hundred times you whined about it, she hasn’t told anyone her pen name. She?—”
“Yeah, yeah…” His voice is tinged with annoyance. “She doesn’t want your music career to affect her writing career. I know.”
“Exactly. Anyway, after he read it, I think he got a little scared of my wife.”
“Well, she does write crime fiction. Or at least, that’s what I’ve been told. Can’t confirm since I haven’t actually read any of her books.”
