Forbidden Faith Page 4

  She clasps her hands together and smiles. “So, I gather you all have read the contract?” I can see the hope in her light blue eyes; she’s gorgeous and rocks that blonde/black hair. I am loving all the piercings and tattoos she’s got going on. I am very attracted to her, but can’t very well start anything with her. She’s going to be our boss—plus I don’t have it in me to form a relationship with anyone.

  “Yes, we did. Looks like a great sign. Although, I did have to call our lawyer. I faxed him over the papers and he should be getting back to me shortly,” I inform her.

  “No problem, I wouldn’t want you signing anything unless your attorney was involved. I just want you to know with Bitch Tours2090, you’ll have my guidance and nothing, but the best care. You’ll have full rights to songs and covers. I want you to feel at home with me and my label. You won’t find anyone more dedicated than who you’re looking at right now.” Her cell phone vibrates and says, “Excuse me, I’ll leave you here for a few minutes to talk while I get this phone call.”

  This girl really knows her stuff. I’m getting more confident we have finally found our match—our dream.

  “Looks like a sweet deal Lucky. She’s seems pretty legit,” Danny expresses.

  I nod my head. “Yeah, I agree. Guys?”

  I look around at the table; my band, my guys, all have smiles on their faces.

  Slim, Wayne and Jason chime in,

  “Absolutely, brother.”

  “I’m in.”

  “It’s tight, Luck.”

  We sit in silence for a couple minutes before my cell rings. I am really hoping Saul has good news to tell me.

  “Hey, Saul, what do you think?”

  “She’s pretty clean, Lucky. Everything she has in there is exactly what you’re looking for. No flaws, no hidden messages, no implications. It’s a great contract.”

  I close my eyes and let out a sigh of relief. Leaning back in my chair I say to Saul, “Thanks, man. Talk soon.”

  I tell the guys that we are in the clear; they are beyond relieved and just as excited.

  Once our emotions have settled down, June comes back. “So, do we have a deal, men?” She asks with her hands on her slim hips.

  I look around at my band, and nod my head. “You’re looking at a new deal, June.”

  “Awesome! This is truly amazing! You will not regret this!” She informs us with excitement.

  We each pick up our pens and I ask, “Ready to sign guys?”

  “Let’s do it!” Slim shouts.

  We sign our names on the dotted line; I can’t believe we are actually doing this. It seems so unreal, I want to pinch myself.

  After June gathers our contract she welcomes us. “Welcome to Bitch Tours2090!”

  My band shouts in excitement and hugs one another. I couldn’t be more proud of being in a band with these four guys; they are my brothers, my family. This moment is something we will always remember.

  I shake June’s hand. “Thanks, June, I really appreciate this.”

  “No, thank you! It’s my pleasure! I cannot wait for you guys to get started!”

  After we leave the studio we go out for a big brunch and celebrate. As we are waiting at a stop light on 4th Ave, like a punch in the gut, I am hit with an unexpected view of the name Montgomery—Montgomery Suites. For a long time I have tried everything to put that name behind me; sex, music and more sex. The meaning behind all my songs lie within her name—yet the sex buries her name. Montgomery Suites could very well be someone other than Faith. It’s just a coincidence, it has to be.

  A punch on my upper arm and the sound of blaring horns wake me up from the distraction. The guys are talking, laughing and excited about the deal we just made. Yet all I can think about is when I shattered Faith’s heart—our hearts. In slow motion I drive away, pushing thoughts of Faith back, burying them once again.

  I AM ONLY 19! I don’t know why my father is so determined I start learning the business. I don’t argue with him and I usually do what he asks; he’s always been a bit strict and would ground me in a second if I didn’t listen to him. Since I still live in his house I need to abide his rules, even if that means I deliver a folder to his construction site. I don’t know what’s in the folder and I couldn’t care less; I’m the good daughter and will obey his instructions.

  I used to be such a daddy’s girl when I was younger; he would take me to his sites all the time, make me wear a hard hat and show me around his new ground work. I loved coming along with him; it always made me feel so special. I don’t have any siblings or cousins, so life as an only child could get pretty lonely. Daddy would let me bring my Barbies and I would pretend they were my sisters, playing in the dirt. Mom hated me coming home with dirt all over my nice dresses, but Daddy never seemed to mind. I loved spending time with him and couldn’t wait to work by his side. Of course things changed once I became a teenager. I wasn’t into the whole construction side of business anymore. I wanted to own a hotel; make it magical, become a designer. Yet, everything I had dreamt for myself changed the minute I met Lucas Jones.

  I begged my father, when I turned 18, I didn’t want a driver anymore; I wanted to drive myself and be more independent. He finally gave in and bought me my very own sports car. Not that I needed a sports car, but I wasn’t going to complain.

  I drive up to the construction site and park on the dirt road, next to the office trailers. My father was building a massive set of new condos; it would take about a year to finish. I walk inside the first small trailer, unsure who to speak with. An older woman, maybe about 50 or so, was typing something on her computer. She didn’t even look at me when I came up to her desk. “Hi, I’m here to drop off some paperwork -”

  “You’ll need to go to the other trailer for that,” the woman rudely interrupts me.

  I blink, thinking this lady has got some nerve talking to me that way. “Oh. . . . well, alright then. Which trailer would that be?”

  “I can take them if you’d like?” A soft, deep voice startles me.

  I turn toward the voice, instantly becoming tongue tied. “Uh. . . . .” I cannot utter a single word; this guy is hot! He’s got almond shaped dark brown eyes, short, dark brown hair, dark brown stubble on his chin, luscious full on lips, and a subtle, dimpled grin—which would easily set this place on fire—he was smokin’ hot! Even with his bright, florescent long sleeved, dirty, green shirt, he looked amazing; I have never been this transfixed on a guy before—what has gotten into me?

  “I was just going over there anyways,” the gorgeous guy says to me.

  I slightly shake my head. “Uh, no, that’s okay. Just show me where to go.”

  “How about I walk you there?”

  Wow, this guy is so nice! I’m used to guys being jerks and self-centered.

  “Sure, thanks,” I shrug my shoulders like it’s no big deal—Yeah, right!

  “What brings you here?” He asks curiously. “I hope you’re here to replace Gwendelyn, she can be such a bitch,” he chuckles.

  Oh my, that chuckle. Hot.

  I scoff, placing my hair behind my ear. “No, it’s nothing like that. Just doing an errand for my dad.”

  We stop in front of the trailer. In order for my eyes to reach his I have to squint; the sun is glaring into my face, making it hard to see.

  “Oh, and who’s your dad?”

  “Jack Montgomery.”

  I move out of the way from the sun.

  “The office is right here.” The hot guy steps away from me, yet I don’t want him to go. “It was nice meeting you, uh. . . . didn’t catch your name.”

  “Faith.”

  “Faith . . . yeah, nice meeting you.” He turns around and starts walking away from me.

  I shout, “Wait! What’s your name?”

  He flips back around, hands in his pockets, and replies, “Doesn’t matter. Have a good day,” and leaves me, once again, speechless.

  “But I don’t want you to go,” I mumble to myself.

&n
bsp; BEEP BEEP BEEP. . . . my alarm goes off.

  I groan from the loud annoying sound of my alarm, slam it off and plop my head back onto my pillow. I feel as though I barely slept. The nightmares have gotten worse since the night I saw Lucas. I swear he looked so amazing, so at home up on that stage. The crowd was going crazy for him and the ladies looked as if they wanted to jump his bones. I couldn’t exactly blame them. I’d want to do the same thing if I hadn’t known who he was. Ugh, I hate thinking what he still does to me. I hate dreaming about our past, about how he was so sweet to me the day we met. I knew the moment he walked away I was going to have to work extra hard in order to get him to go out with me.

  June phoned me yesterday about JINKS signing with her; she was extremely excited and couldn’t wait to get them to the Grammy’s. I have nothing but confidence in her and the band. Lucas is meant to be famous; his talent has always blown me away.

  I’ve decided to quickly finish my morning business and to spend the remaining afternoon with my girl. I order myself breakfast, run on the treadmill, shower and get down to the paperwork. I hired a couple managers for the hotel and already had them get started with the hiring process; before I know it my hotel will be flourished with staff and customers.

  Once my morning priorities were accomplished, I went down to the panini place again and ordered lunch for June and myself. Along they way I picked up a bottle of champagne—can’t have a celebration without some bubbly.

  “Champagne and lunch at your service!” I announce as I make my way into the studio; my arms are open wide with lunch in one hand and bubbly in the other.

  “Why thanks lady, I appreciate it,” June replies. She takes the champagne, sets it on the meeting table and grabs a couple plastic cups.

  I pop open the bottle and pour us each a drink. “Congratulations on signing another band,” I say, holding out my plastic cup.

  June has her cup against her bottom lip when she jokingly says, “Even if it is your long lost love?”

  “My long lost love?” I snort. “Far from it—anyways, here’s to your success. I am so proud of you.”

  We clink plastic.

  “Aw, thank you.”

  We down our bubbly, sit at the table and open our lunch. During lunch we talk about the hotel, it’s grand opening and the normal day to day stuff.

  It was going nicely until June casually brings up Lucas again. “Are you even the least bit curious about Lucas? Or Lucky? Whatever his name is?”

  I sigh, “Lucky’s his nickname, and no I’m not curious.”

  “Yeah, and that’s why you’re here, not curious, celebrating my deal,” June blurts out, sarcastically.

  What the hell is she doing? Why is she up in my face about Lucas?

  I am really getting pissed off. “Can’t I just come by and congratulate my best friend without being hounded about him? It’s not just about his band it’s about all your signed bands. Geez!” I scoot out of my chair and start bagging our finished lunch.

  June gets up and gives me a hug. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” We hug in silence for a couple moments before she opens that mouth again. “But can I say one little thing? Please?”

  I groan, “Okay, fine.”

  “Just from my impression of him, he just doesn’t seem like someone who would take money from your dad.”

  I push her away, mad. “I think this is my cue to leave.”

  “No!” She grabs my arm. “Look, I just think you should see him again, that’s all. Maybe he can explain himself?”

  “I can’t, June!” I yank out of her hold. “I saw the look in his eyes when he left me. Plus, his words tore through me when he said he was only after the money.”

  “All I’m saying is he doesn’t look as if he’s swimming in dough, honey. If he had that kind of money I believe he would have used it to make his own label company. It’s just how I see it.”

  Could June be right? Ugh, I just don’t know what to think!

  “I can’t talk about him, June. It hurts too much,” my voice cracks. I am not going to cry over this, I’m not. I can’t! I have cried too many tears, too many nights over him. Yet, the tears leak from the corner of my eyes anyways; my own stupid body likes to betray me when I am trying so hard to be strong.

  June pulls me in for another embrace. I wrap my arms around her and hide my face into her chest. “I’m sorry.” We remain silent, for a moment. Then she asks, “Why didn’t you ever tell me about Lucas?”

  “I told you,” I sniff. “I buried him and wanted nothing to do with him, much less talk about him.”

  “You can’t avoid him forever, Faith.”

  I grab a napkin from the table and dab my eyes. “I’m afraid.”

  “I know, honey, I know, but talking with him might help with your unresolved feelings.”

  I know she’s trying to be a good friend, but I just can’t do this right now. “I have to get going.”

  “Don’t be mad at me. I just love you, that’s all.”

  I give her a small grin. “I’m not mad. I love you too.”

  As I continue cleaning up the trash from lunch, June announces her next quest to get me to see Lucas. My girl just does not know how to stop. I guess that’s why she’s so good at her job.

  “I’m planning a special party for JINKS, this Friday. I’d really love it if you came?”

  I groan once again. “Oh, June—“

  “Just think about it?”

  How can I say no when she is holding her hands like she’s praying, with a smile on her face, begging me to support her.

  I roll my eyes and groan. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

  June squeals with joy and pulls me in for one last hug.

  I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.

  As I walk back to the hotel, I stop off at a local liquor store and get a carton of ice cream and chocolate syrup. Just thinking about that party on Friday is giving me anxiety. All I want to do is bury myself in junk food and feel sorry for myself. Before I reach the hotel, my cell rings.

  It’s my mother. Feeling horrible and guilty for not being a good daughter, I answer the phone. I keep forgetting to call and check in on her. She suffers from depression and has been suffering since I was a baby. I found out about it while I was in High School. She brought it to my attention on a trip we took together and ever since then, I’ve wanted to help her; she doesn’t do a very good job at remembering to take her pills. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to take her back to the doctors to get her help. My father sure as hell doesn’t give a crap. If he did then he would keep an eye on her. I hated leaving her when I left for college, yet it was the right choice; I couldn’t be responsible for my mom any longer. I had a life to live and she knew that. She wanted this life for me just as much as I did.

  I’m still not the best daughter; I answer the phone, in a snobby tone, as if she’s bothering me. “What can I do for you Mom?”

  “What can you—nevermind. . . . we haven’t talked for a few days, I just wanted to see how you are? How the hotel is coming along?”

  I stop at the crosswalk and wait for the light to turn green. I also stop and adjust my attitude; it’s not my mother’s fault I’m in a crappy mood. “The hotel is coming along great. It’s really beautiful. Phillip did an amazing job with it and the contractors are doing incredible work.”

  “I am really looking forward to seeing it soon.”

  “That would be nice.”

  The location is busy, surrounded by many restaurants and so much in walking distance that the location for Montgomery Suites is perfect. It’s across the street from the Civic Theater; people will want to stay at the hotel when they come see a theater performance, or stay for business trips.

  The light turns green and I walk toward my hotel. .

  “Maybe I can help you put together the grand opening party? Would that be okay?” She sounds so hopeful and in need of something to do besides go to charity events with my father. My eyes were never op
en enough to see how much of a show she was putting on to be the perfect wife; it seems she was always by his side, like a good trophy wife, marching along with her husband, with a big, fake smile on her face. Until my last year at home, being with Lucas really made things clearer for me. I saw how much my mother was faking her happiness; I saw how devious my father had become. I saw him for who he really was and I hated it. I never expected to turn on him like I did. Yet he left me no choice.

  Hearing my mother say she wanted to help with the opening made me a bit hopeful for her. She was such a great party planner. If she wasn’t going to charity events she would be hosting a party at our house; it brightened her mood.

  “Yeah, maybe. Just as long as Dad doesn’t come.”

  “Faith -”

  I interrupt her before she started on him. “Mom -”

  Thankfully she didn’t go any further and cut me off before I said something I would regret later. “I miss you honey, and wish you would come home to visit.”

  “I’m really busy these days.”

  “Yes, I know. It’s really good to hear your voice.”

  “I’ll call more often, okay? I love you.”

  Her voice cracks, “I love you too.”

  I walk inside the hotel lobby, lean against the door and sigh, “Don’t cry, Mom, please. I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. I promise I’ll touch base soon. We’ll make plans for you to come out next month, alright?”

  I hate that I made her cry—I feel awful.

  “Yes, I’d love that. . . . .I’ll let you go.”

  “Are you okay?” I ask softly.

  I can hear her breathe with a sigh of relief. “Yes, just hearing your voice has made my day. I should be running along now. Take care, Faith.”