Last night was the first night since the charity concert that I spent not sleeping beside Beau. I tossed and turned all night, not getting a blink of sleep, while Gemma snored softly beside me. I wanted to just go to bed, to not have to think about Beau and how he let me leave without saying a word. At the same time, I wanted to storm back up to our suite and shout at him until he saw how shitty he'd been. We've been working so hard and just when things are going well, he does something like this. At the after party of my first ever runway show, to make things even worse.
In the end, I didn't do either of those things. I spent the first hour laying in bed so angry, but then as time passed, I started to worry about Beau, which only infuriated me more. A million thoughts ran through my mind all night long, refusing to let me get any rest as I struggled to come to a decision.
Exhausted, I take in my ridiculous appearance in the bathroom mirror, my bleached brows and hair sprayed hair mocking me in my reflection. Gemma groans in the main room, finally awake, and I make my expression as neutral as possible before returning to face her.
Saved by the bell, I think to myself as my phone rings loudly on the bedside table. I rush to answer it, only briefly apologizing to Gemma as she throws the comforter over her head and I avoid her gaze entirely.
"Miss Carter." My heart stops and I suddenly wish I hadn't picked up. Even facing hungover and concerned Gemma at eight o'clock in the morning would be better than this.
"Yes, Fiona?" I brace myself for her response.
Her voice is sharp, irritation lacing her tone as she asks, "When do you get in this afternoon?"
Shit. "Four," I answer truthfully.
"I would like to meet with you and Mr. Lewis at five- thirty. I assume you understand the urgency?" My jaw clenches at her condescending attitude, obvious even over the phone.
Regret courses through me, I shouldn't even have brought Beau on this trip. How could I not see something like this coming? I force the words out of my mouth. "Yes, I understand."
Back in town, I watch Gemma jog up her parents patio through the windshield, her hands shielding her hair from the light drizzle of the rain, and feel Beau's eyes on my face. It's just us now - we dropped Jace off at the hotel first, his presence only making things more tense the entire way home.
I stare straight ahead, unwilling to give in this time. "Em, can we talk about it?" Beau's voice is soft and unsure. It's almost enough to make me cave just to comfort him, but when he places a hand on my thigh, my irritation boils over.
"Oh, we will. With Fiona, at five-thirty." I snap, finally meeting his eyes. His face falls and I continue. "So you'll have plenty of time to think about what you'll say,"
Stunned by the news that we'll have our heads ripped off by Fiona very shortly, or by my own personal attitude, Beau is quiet the rest of the ride home and right up until Fiona and Rocco enter the apartment some time after us, dripping from the rain.
"What were you thinking?" Fiona doesn't have to raise her voice to let us know how furious she is. Her hellish glare across my small kitchen table is enough. I squirm in my seat and focus on my kitchen cabinets - as angry as I am with Beau, I don't like how she's speaking to him and I'm trying to keep my temper in check.
Beau rolls his eyes and leans back in my wooden chair as if he's bored. "That Jace was going to get his ass kicked by those two guys," He shrugs.
"Next time, let him." Fiona seethes, stressing every word.
"Let him?" Beau shouts, making me jump beside him. I bite my lip, concentrating on the grainy wood-like substance of the table.
"There's no need for anyone to start yelling," Rocco grumbles, finally looking up from his folded hands and up to Beau. "Just calm down, okay?"
"Yes, Beau." Fiona speaks slowly, as if she's the smartest person in room. "Next time, let him. It would be much easier for us to deal with him than with both of you," She continues evenly, never breaking eye contact with Beau. "Especially given your history."
Beau stands and paces the small kitchen, angry energy rolling off of him in waves. "Is she fucking serious? Rocco? You want me to just let Jace get fucked up next time?"
I reach up and place a hand on Beau's forearm to still him, keeping my voice low. "Beau, stop yelling."
Fiona turns her gaze to me now. "And you, where were you?"
"What the fuck?" Beau shouts just as I ask, "Excuse me?"
Fiona looks at us both individually before replying. "You're supposed to make Beau look good, not indulge his poor behavior."
I raise my brows at her and take a deep breath before I respond, focusing all of my energy on keeping my voice calm. "You did not hire me to be Beau's baby sitter. I can't keep my eye on him every second," I see him grimace in my peripherals and I feel guilty but continue anyways. "I've done what you've asked."
Fiona purses her lips and looks me up and down over her glasses. "Mm. Then perhaps we need to reconsider your usefulness in this situation."
My mouth pops open in surprise. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" Beau snaps, pointing a finger at Fiona furiously.
Rocco interjects finally, standing up and placing a hand on Beau's shoulder firmly. "Beau, you're not doing yourself any favors, come on. We want to help,"
"No," Beau scowls at his manager and then back at Fiona, each word deliberate on his tongue, "She works for MisFits. She should remember that,"
Fiona smiles sweetly and I glare at her in response, surprised at just how much this woman can bother me. "Mr. Lewis, I can assure you, my behavior is not the issue here."
Beau's face gets red and Rocco pushes him back into the chair beside me. Too angry to speak, Beau clenches and unclenches his fist against his thigh. Still irritated, I place a hand over his and tilt my head at Fiona questioningly. "You really think you could get rid of Beau?" At her smirk, I continue. "I just wonder how the guys would feel, with you replacing their guitar player and best friend. The one who, not only has exceptional talent on the guitar, but also happens to write all the lyrics for the songs the fans love so much."
I tap my chin dramatically. "Oh the fans," I smile at Beau with sarcastic cheerfulness. "Can you imagine the outrage if they replaced you right before a tour? I bet ticket sales would plummet," I glance back at Fiona. "What percent of the label's profit comes from MisFits anyway?"
Realizing that my words are true and that I'm not afraid to push her, Fiona straightens her shoulders and lets out a sigh. "Very well." She presses her lips into a tight line. "But you will be restricted in your public outings until the tour. Beau is to maintain his tour and recording duties, and local outings with you, Miss Carter." She glares at Beau seriously. "And that is it."
I nod wordlessly as Beau mumbles under his breath, a mixture of "fucks" and "shits" the only words I can make out. Fiona is the first to stand and excuse herself for the evening, with Rocco just behind her. The old man pauses before leaving us and pats Beau's shoulder. "I love you, kid. But you've got to get your head on right. If you care about this band, you'll think about that," He pats him again and waves goodbye to me.
The apartment door clunks shut, leaving us in silence. Alone finally, I hang my head in exhaustion over the kitchen sink. Beau stands behind me, waiting for me to speak. "It was one night Beau, one night. After all the work we've put into this, and you just..." I trail off in a deep sigh, kneading my neck with my fingers.
"The work we've put into this?" Beau scoffs. "Got it,"
"Stop." I turn to face him. "That's not how I meant it. I just mean that things are finally starting to work out and you're doing so much better, and then you did this!" Beau shakes his head and I shout at him, "You don't even care!"
I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for him to reply. He doesn't say anything and I continue yelling, something I rarely do. "Fine, well it was my night, Beau! Do you even care about that?" I throw my hands up in air, unable to stay still I'm so frustrated.
Beau's eyes flash to my face. "You don't think I know that?" He frowns and glares at the floor before continuing, "I really messed up... I'm sorry." He shakes his head at me, looking defeated.
"You're sorry?" I ask softly, the anger no longer ripping through me as furiously as before. He nods his head. "Beau, if you're really sorry, if you really care about me, that means you'll really try, you know? You have to cooperate, to listen. To them... to me,"
Beau nods again, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. He opens his arms to me and I lean into him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. I breathe in his scent, still finding that it calms me even if he's the one to get me riled up. "I'll cut the shit," I feel his chin move against my head as he speaks.
I tilt my head back and he kisses my lips softly. "Hey, thanks for having my back with Fiona." He grins sheepishly.
I roll my eyes, "I'm tired of how she treats people, you especially."
Beau nods casually in agreement, not meeting my eyes. "You have to know how much you mean to me, don't you?" He locks eyes with me quickly before looking away just as fast. "Okay, let's just put it like this, yeah? The only time things make sense, the only time I feel like I can just be Beau, is when I play my music... And when I'm with you." The words leave his mouth slowly and when he finally meets my gaze, I'm smiling ear to ear. "I know it doesn't make any sense," his thick brows come together over his eyes like a confused little boy.
I shake my head and gently place my hand over the bruise under his eye, "I think I get it, Beau." I lean into his chest again and close my eyes, a content smile on my face. "And I love you, too."