Last Song (Chasing Cross Book Five) (A Brothers of Rock Novel) (rockstar contemporary romance) Read Free Page B

shower and
found the cleanest clothes he could find. He dressed and eyed himself in the
mirror. He certainly didn’t look like he was knocking on death’s door, anymore,
but he was still in its neighborhood, cruising the streets, waiting.
    Rick drove with
sunglasses on even though the weather was overcast. Any kind of light hurt his
head. More so, he wore them because he didn’t want to look into Jackson’s eyes.
Jackson would read him like a book. The man had always been able to do so. In
fact, it was Jackson who pulled Rick from the ledge a few times in those early
Chasing Cross days and now Jackson had grown up into a successful businessman
and Rick had grown up into a rockstar.
    Rick parked at the back
of Jackson’s small office and went through the back door. He didn’t care if he
was allowed to do that or not; he was the client and the guy with millions of
dollars at his disposal.
    He caught Jackson, who
stood at a large copier, off guard. When he saw Rick, he jumped.
    “Jesus,” Jackson said.
    “No. Just me.” Rick
smiled and offered his hand.
    “Holy shit, it’s Rick,”
Jackson said.
    “In the flesh. Now sell
me a house.”
    Jackson wore a black suit
and looked about thirty pounds heavier than the last time Rick saw him years
ago; long before Jackson met a woman, got married, started a business, and had
kids. When Rick first met Jackson, he wore jeans and t-shirts, just like the
band did. His father was rich and had offices all over California. He mostly bought
old, beat up properties in the hopes of someday either flipping them or
knocking them down and selling the land.
    Jackson led the way to
his office. A clean office, too big for what it was used for, but it certainly
gave the impression that Jackson was really successful. A large mahogany desk
was where Jackson found comfort, leaning against it, crossing his arms. He
nodded to one of about eight leather chairs in the office, but Rick chose to
stay standing. His head was still pounding and his body felt like death. If he
sat, he’d probably fall asleep.
    “Everything with the
band... I don’t know...”
    “I already told you,
Rick,” Jackson said, “I’m not interested in any of that. You need a place, I’ll
sell you a place. Tell me what you want.”
    “I want something with
stone and a garage.”
    “Stone and a garage...
that’s it?”
    “I’m easy to please,”
Rick said.
    He watched as Jackson
eyed him up and down. The shower did not do much to help Rick out and he knew
he looked like he just crawled out from a pile of garbage.
     “Okay,” Jackson said,
“I’m going to assume you have a budget in mind.”
    “Jackson, I want a house
with a garage, okay? I’m not here to play games. I called you for a reason.
Just make it simple for me. Push everyone else aside for one day. For me.”
    “You want a house in a
day,” Jackson said.
    “That’s right. I have
this tiny apartment right now and it doesn’t work for me. I need the space. I
need my drums. I need my music.”
    “Not your band?”
    “I never had a band,”
Rick said. “I was part of a band, but it was never mine.”
    “I’m sure the royalty
checks were yours though.”
    “Just like your
commissions here,” Rick said. “But that doesn’t mean you own the properties,
does it?”
    Jackson smiled. “You’re
still a son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
    “And underneath that suit
you’re still dreaming of becoming a rockstar.”
    Jackson let out a classic Jackson laugh as they all used to call it. A deep laugh that could shake the strongest
windows and wake the dead. He pushed from the desk and walked around behind it.
The chair protested with a groan as he sat down. In a matter of minutes, he had
a few properties for Rick to look at.
    He started to turn the
screen but Rick shook his head; he didn’t want to see the houses on a computer
monitor, he wanted to see them in person.

(3)
     
    Johnnie knew only a few
things about Chase Mackenzie, the drummer for Fallen