A Voice to Love (Fallen Tuesday Book One) (A Brothers of Rock Novel) (6 page)

"A limo? What, are
you rich?"

"Maybe," Luke
said. "Famous, too."

"Famous?"

"I'm here for a
show, Amy."

"What kind of
show?"

"I sing in a band.
Well, I am the singer. The lead singer."

"You're in a
band?"

"Fallen Tuesday.
Ever hear of us?"

Amy gasped. She stepped
back to the steps and put one foot on them. She stared at Luke, trying to make
the connection.

"I'm not
lying," Luke said. "We had a little tour bus incident so we're here
for the night."

"Why were you
outside alone then?"

"Honestly? I needed
a break. We're upstairs playing and people are everywhere. Want to come up?
Have a drink?"

Amy looked up and then
back to Luke. "Are you serious?"

"Why would I
lie?"

"You're a
rockstar," Amy said. "That's what this is then. I'm running from a
biker and crash into a rockstar."

"So you were running
from someone?” Luke asked with an eyebrow raised.

He grabbed his cellphone
and opened it. He dialed a number. Amy started to wave at him.

"No, don't..."

"Frank, it's
me," Luke said. "I have a friend who needs a ride. Get a ride
here."

"Luke," Amy
said through gritted teeth.

Luke hung up the call and
smiled at Amy.

"You didn't have to
do that, I'm not impressed."

"I'm not trying to
impress you.” It was a partial lie. "I want to make sure you get home
safe. I'm not going to pry into your personal life, but if you're walking home
alone at midnight and there's a guy on a bike following you, that bothers
me."

"I thought rockstars
were bad boys."

"Don't assume, not
about me," Luke said. "Are you sure you don't want a drink or
something?"

"I just really want
to get home. I can walk."

Luke pushed at the door
and it opened. The rush of cold air made him shiver. He held the door and
waited for Amy to exit. He went on behind her and made sure the same rock was
there to keep the door from closing. Amy started to walk like she was leaving.
Luke hurried up to her and tugged at her arm.

"Wait a
minute," he said. "What are you doing?"

"Walking home. You
opened the door. I thought..."

"I wanted to wait
out here for the limo," Luke said.

"I don't need a
limo."

"Nobody needs a
limo," Luke said. "But the record company is paying for it. Might as
well use it."

"I'm not
impressed."

Luke smiled. "You
already said that."

"So? I'm still not
impressed."

Luke noted how close they
were to each other. Maybe a foot separating, maybe less. Their breaths tangled
in mid air. The sight teased Luke, reminding him just how long it had been
since he had someone he could care about.

"I hope whatever
you're running from isn't that serious," Luke said.

"What if I said it
was?"

"I'd hope you were
joking," Luke said. "But if you're not, then you should get help
about it. It just doesn't seem right."

"What doesn't?"

"A woman like you...
so pretty... walking alone, afraid. It doesn't suit you."

"Smooth," Amy
said. "I guess that's expected from a rockstar."

"No, that's just me
talking. This... this is smooth."

Luke leaned closer to Amy
as though he was going to kiss her. Instead, he pointed behind her. She turned
as the limo came into the parking lot.

"You've got to be
kidding me."

"Why would I be
kidding?"

"This doesn't seem
real," Amy said.

Luke took a chance and
touched Amy's hand. He held her hand and guided her to the limo. It felt good,
it felt fun, something Luke hadn’t felt for a woman in a long time... then it
occurred to him that there was no difference between Amy and any other woman
Luke got to meet on some random night. Well, there was one difference, Amy was
going home. Without Luke. Luke was sure he could probably change that fate, but
by the time he really considered it, Amy was gone. That’s when Luke lingered,
thinking about her.

A thought came to him.

What the hell am I doing?

**

Amy couldn't bring
herself to fold her fingers around the hand of the man guiding her to the limo.
Amy knew Fallen Tuesday, but she didn't know the band members exactly. For all
she knew, this guy was just someone looking for fun. Someone spinning a story
to get in a woman's pants. It was midnight and he was standing outside the
hotel. However, Amy sense honesty in Luke. He wasn't dressed like a rockstar,
but his body language spoke otherwise and Amy hated to admit it, but he was
really hot.

Amy closed her eyes and
took a few more steps closer to the limo. The driver's door opened and the
driver got out.

"She's a
friend," Luke said. "She needs to get home."

"Of course,
sir," the driver said.

"She only lives a
few blocks away," Luke said. "Listen to me though. This is important.
When you drop her off, make sure she gets into her apartment. She'll flick the
lights twice to let you know she's safe."

"Luke, stop,"
Amy whispered. Now she closed her hand over his, tugging on his hand, not
wanting to cause unnecessary worry for anyone. She couldn't believe that she
had been so quick - and so dumb - to just offer up the fact that she was in
trouble.

She hated Denny more than
ever.

"Is everything
okay?" the driver asked.

"Fine," Amy
said.

"Everything is
fine," Luke said. "I just need to know she's safe. That's all."

"Of course,"
the driver said.

Luke opened the door and
let Amy's hand go. She suddenly felt cold. She wanted Luke holding her hand
again.

"Here's your
ride," Luke said.

"I'm really not
impressed," Amy said.

"I need to know
you'll get home safe."

"You don't even know
me. What if I deserve to be chased down?"

"By some guy on a
bike at midnight? I doubt it."

Luke smiled. He looked so
sincere. Amy didn't smile back. Maybe she did deserve to be chased down by
Denny after all that had happened...

"Go on," Luke
said. "If you don't hurry, I'm going to drag you into the hotel. You want
to end up spending the night with a bunch of rockstars?"

"Rockstars,"
Amy whispered. She put one foot in the limo. "Listen, Luke... thank you
for this. For insisting on helping."

"You're not the type
that takes help," Luke said. "Am I right?"

"I like to go after
things on my own."

"Got it. Good to
know."

Amy got into the limo.
Luke crouched down. "Are you sure I can't go with you? Just to make sure
you're okay?"

"Stranger...
no."

"We could fix that
stranger part."

"Before or after you
play a show and move to the next city?"

Luke opened his mouth and
had nothing to say. Amy had won that battle. Hell, judging by the look on
Luke's face, Amy wondered if she hadn't won whatever flirting war they had been
engaging in. There was something fun about it, considering Luke was a stranger,
who happened to be a good looking rockstar. But something about it was just as
sad. Amy wasn't sure why.

"Get home safe, Amy.
Whatever's following you... know you deserve better."

"Got it," Amy
said. "Thank you again."

The door closed and the
limo driver asked for the address. Amy spoke it and then she looked out the
window. Luke hadn't moved. He stood with his hands balled into fists as the
limo drove away.

(6)

Amy woke the next morning
and poured herself a cup of coffee. She opened the apartment door and looked
around before looking down for her newspaper. Every morning had become this.
She hated that she could not relax, even at home. Amy grabbed the paper and
then sat at the table with her coffee and opened the newspaper. The early
morning hours had brought a light dusting of snow and the moment Amy saw the
flaky white powder on the black iron rail of her balcony she thought of Luke. She
had no idea why. She wished there was a way to thank him again, although she
had said it... how many times? It just didn’t feel like enough.

"A rockstar,"
she said and laughed.

She shook her head
wondering how she would be able to tell such a story and actually have anyone
believe her. It seemed impossible. A part of Amy didn't even believe it
herself. No matter what though she had made it home safely. She had flicked the
lights twice, and then the limo pulled away and Amy rushed to take a hot shower
to cry, and wonder what kind of fate had entered into her life.

Amy shifted her mind into
a different gear after her first cup of coffee. She read the front headlines of
the paper and then skipped to the obituaries. She'd done the same thing since
she was a little girl. She liked reading about other people’s lives. Everything
about a life was summed up into one paragraph.

Just before eleven her
cell phone rang.

It was Uncle Tom.

"Tell me you're not
at the restaurant," Amy said.

"We're open, aren't
we?" Uncle Tom asked.

"I'll be in
soon," Amy said.

"Actually…”

"What?"

"Why not take a day
off? You need to go get your car, right?"

"Yeah...," Amy had
almost forgotten.

Her car. The main reason
she had been walking last night. The car that Denny smashed the window in on.

"Get your car, take
a ride, grab a bite somewhere else."

"Grab a bite?"
Amy asked. "Are you trying to sound cool, Uncle Tom?"

"You can't live here
like I do, Amy. It's no good for a person."

"Says the man doing
it," Amy said.

"I'm stuck here.
I've made my commitment."

The word
commitment
seemed
to be such a big deal for everyone lately. Amy had given her commitment to the
restaurant. Her commitment came with a steeper price than anyone knew.

She needed to get out of
that other commitment.

"Will you at least
promise to call me if you need me?" Amy asked.

"Yes," Uncle
Tom said. "We'll manage without you. And that doesn't mean we don't need
you, Amy. Okay?"

"I never said
that."

"I know. But I can
sense it. You think if you're not here and the restaurant functions, it's a
flaw to your character. In reality, it shows just how strong of a leader you
are. This place runs the way it does because of you. We can function without
you for a day because of how good of a job you do."

"Wow," Amy
said. She blinked as tears filled her eyes. "Thank you."

"You know why I
can't step away, Amy."

"I know," Amy
said. She wiped a tear off her cheek. "I know, Uncle Tom."

"My gosh, I hope you
don't hate me for that."

"Never," Amy
said. "We all have our commitments that we can't let go or get out of,
right?"

"I guess so. Must be
a family flaw. Listen, enjoy your day."

"My phone is
on," Amy said. "If you need anything..."

Uncle Tom said his love
and then hung up. She couldn't remember Uncle Tom ever talking like that. She replayed
the conversation in her mind and stopped when she got to the part about her
car. She got her laptop and opened it, beginning the painful process of looking
at her personal finances. Amy was struggling to pay off the last couple pesky
student loans from culinary school and a few credit cards that had once been
maxed out. Then there was the other debt...

There was enough in her
bank account to cover the insurance deductible, but everything else would be
very tight. She'd get paid in two days, but all that would do would ensure her
ability to live her simple life for another two weeks. It didn’t come close to
the money she owed Denny.

There was a secret
spreadsheet for that. There also was a secret savings account that caontined a
whopping three thousand dollars. Maybe to someone else, three grand in a
savings account was great. It was a down payment on a car. It was a really nice
vacation. Or it could be a start at a healthy future. For Amy, it felt like
guilt ridden sweat money. And it was far from the eighty thousand dollars that
she owed to Denny.

Her busted car window was
a warning.

Amy decided to tackle one
problem at a time. She closed her laptop and dialed the auto garage to check on
her car. As promised, the car was ready to be picked up. She needed to walk to
the garage though. It was six blocks away. The thought of walking worried Amy. Thankfully,
it was mid morning. There would be cars and people everywhere. There was
nothing to worry about, Denny wasn't that crazy.

Was he?

Amy wasn’t exactly sure.
It had been at least a month since she'd seen Denny. When they were in their
maybe-we're-in-love
stage, it was easier for Amy to watch Denny and judge his reactions. Recently,
he had been quiet and reclusive so Amy had a sense of peace. Then came that
morning she woke to find her car window broken and the inside trashed. It was a
clear message that the debt hadn't been forgotten yet.

After changing into
something more appropriate for the day, Amy took her chances. She left the
apartment and began to walk. Leaving her building, she scanned the parking lot,
checking for any signs of Denny. Seeing the empty parking spot with her
apartment number on it was just another reminder of everything that had
happened with Denny, and the potential of what could happen. Suddenly, she
wished she had someone to protect her. Someone like Luke? Amy rolled her eyes
and kept walking. If she was going to let her mind wander like that she was
better off picturing someone more realistic.

Once at the car repair
garage, Amy got her car back. The glass had been cleaned up, the window
replaced, and they were even nice enough to try to put everything else together
for Amy. All the papers were placed back in the glovebox. All her CD’s that had
been scattered throughout the car were organized on the passenger seat. Amy
thanked the man behind the counter for the extra work and then took her car. To
her surprise, driving didn’t make her feel much safer. Driving gave her a small
sense of freedom, but she had no place to go. She knew better than to show up
at the restaurant right then. Uncle Tom would probably try to honestly fire
her. Amy had nothing to do, so she decided to go back to her apartment. A day
off was well spent at home, relaxing. All the stuff she wanted to do the night
before she could do now. A cup of hot tea. A chick flick. Resting on the couch.
She knew she’d keep a notebook handy to jot down ideas for the restaurant
because she couldn’t help herself. But there was something else she wanted to
do too.

Amy parked and rushed
into her apartment. She tossed her keys to the table and opened her laptop. In
a matter of a few minutes Amy leaned back and smiled as music began to play.
She now officially owned the smash hit album from Fallen Tuesday. The second
Luke’s voice came in on the song, she smiled. It really was him the night
before. She shook her head in amazement. She had spent time with a rockstar…

Amy’s cell phone buzzed
and she saw a text from Julie, one of the waitresses from the restaurant and
someone she considered a good friend. Maybe not a best friend - the kind she’d
share the truth about Denny with - but she was a good friend.

The message read…

Emergency. Hurry. Open
your door, help me.

Amy stood and looked down
at the phone. Her eyes scrambled on what to do first. She turned the music off
and rushed to the door. She forgot her keys but opened the door anyway. There
stood Julie with a bottle of wine and two wine glasses.

“Surprise,” she said.

“What are you doing?” Amy
screamed.

“Getting in trouble I
guess… you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“You scared me,” Amy scanned
the hallway.

“I brought wine.”

“It’s barely past noon.”

“But it is past noon,”
Julie winked. “What are you doing on your day off?”

“How did you know I had a
day off?”

“That’s kind of headline
news around the restaurant world. Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Amy said. She
let out a long breath.

Julie took over the
apartment like it was her own. She put the wine and glasses down then looked at
the computer. Before Amy could take a step Julie had the music playing from the
laptop.

“Sitting alone, listening
to music?” Julie asked.

“You wouldn’t
understand.”

“Fallen Tuesday… I’ve
heard them before. On the radio, actually. They were on the radio last night.”

Amy smiled. They could
have been on the radio last night. They were, after all, local. Amy felt color
rush to her cheeks.

“They’re good!” Amy’s
voice went up a few notes. She coughed and said, “I mean, I like them.”

“You seem a little giddy
there,” Julie said. “How was your night last night?”

“Interesting,” Amy said.

“Why’s that?”

“You wouldn’t
understand…”

Amy thought about how to
tell Julie everything and make her actually believe it. Julie looked up from
the laptop and stared at Amy.

“I wouldn’t understand?”
Julie asked. “Try me…”

Amy smiled.

If you say so.

**

Luke sat with his
notebook. The words on the papers meant nothing compared to the thoughts in his
head. He couldn’t understand why Amy still rang in his mind. Maybe it was the
whole damsel-in-distress aspect, but whatever it was caused him to completely
forget about his throat and the show the band was supposed to play that night.

After his encounter with
Amy, Luke had spent a little while longer outside. He actually waited for the
limo to return back to the hotel. Luke wanted to ensure that Amy had arrived at
her apartment without a problem. The limo driver said he waited and she flicked
the lights twice. Luke thanked the driver, tipped him, and then asked him to
step away from the limo.

“I need a favor,” Luke
had said.

“Like?”

“I need you to not be a
limo driver for a few seconds. I need you to understand what I’m going to say…
and what I’m going to ask…”

Luke dropped his pen and
closed the notebook. There was nothing lyrically happening. Well not anything
he could actually write about. It would end up being fluff for a love song. The
kind that didn’t make sense.

The guys had gone out for
a walk to stretch their legs and try to cure their hangover headaches. The
night before hadn’t ended when the limo returned without Amy. Luke still had to
face the party on the top floor of the hotel. And a party it was. The people
were having a wild time and within an hour, Luke got the first phone call from
Frank.

“Why am I looking at a
picture of you guys playing guitar and fans in your hotel room?”

The question made Luke
feel like he was thirteen and had just been busted for having a party at home.
It made him laugh and there was no getting around it. He told him what had
happened and before Frank could protest, he invited Frank to join the party and
then hung up. Luke managed to rest his voice for the rest of the night, letting
the fans sing while they all played. They played a few songs two or three times
and before long, Luke noticed that the fans were taking turns coming in the
room. A group would listen to a song and then shuffle out so the next group
could enter. It was the ultimate sign of respect for the band.

It finally ended right
around three in the morning. The band stayed up for another hour, celebrating what
had just happened, and then retreated to their bed to crash, and the night - or
morning - finally ended.

Luke heard his cell phone
and rushed to it.

It was a call he had been
waiting for.

“Dr. Hornsbury, hello.”

“Luke, how are you
feeling today?”

“I’m good.”

Luke felt his throat. It
was tight. Sore. Annoyed. He knew Dr. Hornsbury would be able to hear it through
the phone.

“Have you been resting?”

Luke swallowed. The
silence became his answer. “Dr. Hornsbury…”

“Luke, I know you’re on
tour with your band, but I just want you to know that the longer you wait and
push yourself with this…”

“I get it,” Luke said. “I
could hurt myself permanently.”

“Not even that,” Dr.
Hornsbury said. “You could end up off the stage for months if this gets bad
enough. I really think you needed some rest…”

“Needed?”

“You’ve been playing
shows, Luke. I’d like to see you again soon. I’d like to check to see if there
has been anymore damage and how much. We’re approaching a crucial point here,
Luke.”

“The tour’s almost over,”
Luke said.

“Then what?”

Luke couldn’t reply. The
then
what?
was the hardest part. The band needed to wrap up the tour and then
get right into a studio. Studio sessions were worse than touring. In the studio
every note needed to be perfect, both played and sung. Going right into the
studio to record would ruin Luke’s voice.

“What do I do, doc?” Luke
asked. “I have a band. A career. A record company on my neck.”

“It’s time to talk,” Dr.
Hornsbury said. “Come see me as soon as you can, okay? We’ll see if there’s
more damage and go from there. But I need you to wrap your head around telling
everyone about this. Luke, it could just be a setback, nothing more. If you
ignore it… if we have to operate and if you have to wait months or years…”