DOMINIC AND I TRAVELED outside of Atlanta into a more rural area of Georgia where he had a radio interview this morning. Even though it was just as easy to do it by phone, he wanted to go in person, and it wasn’t my place to ask questions. In fact, Dominic had made it pretty clear where my place was.
While I hadn’t expected to become pals with Dominic Cantrell, his callous dismissal of me had stung. Then again, I was still tender all over from my marriage ending, so it wasn’t entirely Dominic’s fault I had been easily hurt.
Our car rolled into a small town straight out of a greeting card movie. Store fronts lined a dusty main street, a few older people strolling down the sidewalks.
“This is where we’re going?” I checked for the station’s name on my phone. “KXGA?”
Dominic turned from the window, his mirrored lenses hiding his eyes. “This is it. Good ol’ Dublin, Georgia. More peaches than residents.”
“Do you have a connection here?” It wasn’t my business, but I couldn’t help being curious.
“I do.” That was all he said before turning back to the window.
The radio station sat at the end of the street, and we were able to pull up right in front, taking one of the slanted parking spots. An older man with tufts of white hair around his shiny skull, wearing a suit that looked like it had fit him two decades ago, stood on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for us.
Dominic hopped out of the car with a wide smile—the first I’d seen on him so far. The corners of his eyes crinkled from the force, and I…liked it. He was handsome, that wasn’t in question, but there was something otherworldly about seeing him genuinely happy, even if it was fleeting.
He shook hands with the older man, who turned out to be the station owner, Dale Lemon. Dominic made sure I was with them and introduced me to Dale, who took little interest in me.
I wasn’t from the south, but I recognized a good ol’ boy when I saw one. Dale Lemon probably didn’t believe women should have roles at work outside of support staff. Thankfully, I didn’t work for him and we’d be in and out in an hour, tops.
“How’ve you been, son?” Dale asked.
Dominic clapped him on the back. “I don’t think you can call me son anymore since my hair’s about as gray as yours.”
Dale laughed, big and rowdy. “I’ve known you since you were knee-high. You’ll always be that kid with skinned knees and a gappy smile no matter how big you get.”
Interesting. I had no idea Dominic had grown up in Georgia. Maybe that explained why he’d been willing to come all this way to this tiny station in the middle of nowhere for an interview.
Dale led us through yellowed walls covered with pictures of rock stars who had been famous thirty years ago, then stopped outside of a small room with two vending machines, a cracked laminate table, and a worn black leather couch, the station’s broadcast playing over crackling speakers.
“You can have a seat in here, ma’am. I’ll take care of ol’ Dominic. He’s in capable hands.” Dale threw me a wink and held his hand out to usher me inside the space that looked more like a prison waiting room than somewhere guests would be shown to.
My gaze focused on Dominic. “Is that what you would like, or would you rather I stay with you during the interview?”
He paused for a long moment, his eyes sweeping over me. I had forgone the message tee and jeans for more professional high-waisted trousers and a purple, short sleeve cardigan, but kept my trusty oxfords. I couldn’t tell if Dominic found me wanting or not. He was impossible to read when he wanted to be.
“I’ll be fine. Thank you for asking, Claire.” He leaned in, speaking low beside my ear. “Keep an eye on the time. We need to make a short stop on the way back.”
“Got it. I’ll make sure we leave with plenty of time.”
He nodded, satisfied with my answer. “You’ll be okay in this shithole?”
I snorted a little laugh. “I’ll manage.”
“Okay. See you on the flipside.”
He and Dale left me in the shithole. I didn’t really want to sit on the couch, which looked like it hadn’t been wiped down since the eighties, so I wandered into the hall to check out the pictures. There was some serious history in these images. Huge bands and smaller ones had visited this little radio station, though it looked like it had been at least ten years since a new picture had been hung.
I stopped in front of a picture of a much younger Dominic from when he was in The Hype. His band members crowded around him, all of them grinning with the lightness of youth and newfound success. Tracing a finger over Dominic’s dark hair and easy smile, a pang of wistfulness hit me. He wasn’t the same man he’d been in this picture, but I could look back at pictures of myself from a year ago and say the same thing.
“Can I help you?”
Startled, I whirled around to find a guy about my age in a Blue is the Color band tee and ripped-up jeans. His eyebrows were raised expectantly, but his smile was friendly enough.
“I’m good, actually. I just wandered out of the room I was told to wait in to check out these pictures.”
“Ah, the hell pit. I don’t blame you. Are you with…?” He nodded toward the studio at the end of the long hallway where Dominic was currently being interviewed.
“I am. I’m his PR assistant, Claire.”
“Cool, cool. I’m Sam. I do sound engineering here.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Livin’ the high life.”
“It can’t be so bad. You probably get to hear new music before anyone else, right?”
“Truer words.” He checked his watch. “Have you got some time while Dominic does his thing? I’m about to listen to the new Unrequited release for the first time…”
I couldn’t say no to that. Unrequited was one of my favorite bands. I’d begged Derrick to go with me to see them when they were in town, but he’d been completely uninterested, saying they started sucking once they hired a girl drummer. He couldn’t have been more wrong. They’ve killed it more than ever since Maeve O’Day joined.
In Sam’s small office, I got lost in the music, but not so lost that I didn’t keep track of the time. We still had five minutes before we needed to leave, but I grabbed my bag and phone so I could find Dominic.
“Thanks for saving me from the hell pit,” I said.
Sam dipped his chin. “No problem. I wouldn’t send my worst enemy in there. I don’t think the snack machine has been changed out for a good decade or two.”
I giggled. “And the couch, my god.”
He tossed his head back. “Let’s not even talk about the couch.”
I shuddered. “It’s unholy.”
“What’s unholy?”
I whirled around, finding Dominic Cantrell filling the doorway, his eyebrows drawn tight over crow-black eyes, his tattooed hands gripping the frame. The rose on his left hand rippled with tension as he held himself there, suspended between the hallway and office.
I shook my head, snapping into professional mode. “Oh, nothing. How did your interview go?”
“Weren’t you listening?”
“Um…” Oh shit, I’m not supposed to say “um.” Thankfully Isabela can’t hear me making a fool of myself right now. “No. I didn’t realize you wanted me to. I met Sam in the hallway, and he let me listen to the new Unrequited album.”
Dominic cocked his head. “How was it?”
He seemed to genuinely want to know, so I went for full honesty. “It was incredible. Sick. I already know at least two of the songs are going to be on repeat when I download it.”
He nodded once. “Nice. I’ll have to check it out.”
From behind Dominic, Dale clamped his hand on his shoulder. “Ready to do those station bumps?”
I exchanged glances with Dominic, then checked the time on my phone again. Three minutes. “What’s a bump?” I asked.
Dominic moved to the side so Dale could answer. “The big guns at KXGA’s parent company sent down promo for Dominic to record for their affiliates. We play it between songs and station breaks. Shouldn’t take much more than half an hour.”
“Actually, Mr. Lemon, Dominic doesn’t have time for that today. I’m sorry, there must have been a—”
Dale Lemon went from good ol’ boy to angry man in a few blinks. He slammed his hand on the outer wall. “That isn’t acceptable. Dominic always records bumps for us.”
I moved closer, my knees quaking beneath me. “We’ll figure out a way to record the bumps, but it can’t be today. If I had known—”
Dale squared off on me. “If you had known what, girlie? If you hadn’t been so busy flirtin’ with my engineer, you woulda been able to do your job.”
This man in front of me was big and full of bluster. He might’ve been a small-town radio guy, but he didn’t seem like the type who took no for an answer, especially not from women.
“I apologize again—”
“Your apologies mean nothin’. You need to make things right.”
If I could just get out of this office, I could breathe and think. But Dale had blocked the entrance, trapping me inside. My chin trembled, but I refused to cry, no matter how afraid he made me. He wouldn’t hurt me, not with Dominic and Sam as witnesses, but knowing that didn’t really help—not when less than three months ago I’d been trapped and hurt by another man.
My mouth opened and closed, but barely a squeak came out. It was then Dominic stepped in, shoving Dale aside like he was kidding around, but using more force than strictly necessary. I took the opportunity to rush out of the room and scramble to the exit.
A minute later, Dominic found me on the sidewalk, convincing my heartrate to return to normal. I held my hair off my neck, fanning my face with my other hand.
He stopped in front of me, looking me over. “He was out of line.”
I nodded. “I know.”
His warm palm cupped my elbow. “We need to go.”
He steered me to the car, allowing me in first, then climbed in after. I took in a shaky breath and attempted a smile. “I’m sorry I messed up. I truly didn’t know about the bumps, but I’ll check first if a situation like that comes up again.”
Dominic scrubbed at his mouth, then released an aggravated groan. “The bumps are no big deal. Dale overreacted. I’ve known him since I was a kid. He flies off the handle at the drop of a hat.” He dropped his hand on his leg. “You need to stand up for yourself, Claire.”
“Right.” I crossed my ankles and rubbed my damp palms on my pants. “I know. I won’t let something like that happen again.”
He watched my fingers curl into the fabric of my pants, then his eyes flicked to mine. “Won’t happen with Dale. I ripped him a new one before I left. No one talks to my employees like that.”
“Thank you.”
He was right, though. I needed to be my own champion. I’d let people walk all over me for too long, and I was just now seeing it. I had my moments of bravery, but I let far too much slide. What Derrick did to me had the potential to fold me like a flower—I had to be the one to not allow it.
“Don’t thank me. I would have put a stop to Dale sooner, but I wanted to see you handle it. Probably a dick move on my part,” Dominic admitted.
Our car rolled to a stop at the end of a long driveway, bookended by two overgrown bushes covered in white flowers.
Dominic reached for the door. “This is our stop.” He left the car before me, offering me his hand. “We’ll be quick. Come on.”
I let him help me out, then quickly pulled back. “Where are we?” We hadn’t gone far from the station. A few turns had led us to a narrow road lined with long driveways and massive trees covered in Spanish moss.
He pointed to the house with peeling blue paint at the end of the driveway. “This was my grandparents’ house. I spent my summers here with them. Now that they’re gone, I own it.” He plucked a white flower from the overgrown bush. “Whenever I’m in town, I always have to get a taste of honeysuckle. Come here.”
Pulling the stamen from the center of the flower, Dominic sucked on it, humming softly, then repeated his action.
Curious, I took a flower from the bush. “How do I do this?”
He narrowed his eyes on me. “You’ve never had honeysuckle?”
“Never. I’m a northerner. I don’t think it’s really a thing.”
Without a word, he took the flower from my hand, slowly pinched the stamen, dragged it out, and held it up to my lips.
“Suck, Claire.”
I darted my tongue out to catch the nectar and sucked lightly on the flower. The honey sweet flavor surprised me. My lips curved into a delighted smile, and I reached for another.
“I think I can do this one myself,” I said.
Dominic followed my movements, sucking the nectar from his own flower.
“Good,” he murmured. “What do you think?”
“Delicious.” I grinned at him, excited to have been shown a new experience. “Do you ever go wild and stuff the whole flower in your mouth?”
He looked to the ground, kicking up dirt with his sneaker as he chuckled. “Never. Should we try it?”
I rolled the soft, white petals across my bottom lip. “It might not taste very good. Let’s not ruin this experience with an imperfect memory. Next time I come upon a honeysuckle bush, though, I’m trying it.”
Dominic stood close while I snapped a few pictures of the flowers and then a quick selfie to send Annaliese. My sister surely knew all about honeysuckle since plants were her life, but she’d never believe I sucked on nectar with Dominic Cantrell without some sort of photographic evidence. Plus, I wanted to remember this sweet moment.
“Do you want to go in the house?” I asked.
“Nah, I’m okay. I just like to stop by, get my honeysuckle fix, and make sure the place is still standing. I’m ready to get back to the city.”
I plucked another flower. “Do you want to take some for the road?”
His hand tucked in his pockets as he sucked his teeth. “There’s something about the location that makes them sweet for me. I’ve never had the urge to take them with me.” He jerked his head toward the car. “Let’s go.”
This brief glimpse into Dominic Cantrell only made me curious for more. I saw a little bit of his human side, making him less of a rock god and more of an immensely talented, gorgeous man. Still intimidating, but a coating of his shine had dulled a little, which was a good thing.
On the drive back, my curiosity got the better of me. “Was Dale your grandparents’ neighbor?”
Dominic faced me, but his eyes were hidden by his mirrored lenses. “His friend and protege. My grandfather owned the station up until about fifteen years ago, then Dale took over.”
“Is that where your love of music came from? Hanging out at the station?”
“A mix. I think I strolled out of the womb with a guitar in my hand. I recorded my first demo at that radio station with my grandfather’s help. It was a pile of shit, but I was only sixteen. My grandmother…now, she was something else. She was a music teacher and played the organ at her church. The woman had a voice like Janis Joplin. If she’d been born in a different era, she’d have been the rock star of the family.”
I almost didn’t know what to say. This was the most Dominic had ever said to me. I was so taken aback by how open he was being, my mind had to scramble to keep up.
“They both sound wonderful. I’m glad you had those summers with them.”
He studied me for a long time from behind his glasses. Miles went by before he responded. “That’s an exceptionally nice sentiment, Claire.”
I shrugged. “It’s just the truth.”
Tapping his fingertips on his knee, he canted his head and stretched his mile-long legs out to my side of the car.
“I won’t need you anymore once we’re back in Atlanta. You’re free for the rest of the day.” He returned his gaze to the window and kept it there the rest of the entire drive.
Dismissed yet again.
I wondered what made a man so closed off. Fame probably had something to do with it, but I imagined his locked doors covered caverns filled with reasons.
As curious as I was, I wouldn’t be banging down his doors to get inside.
Dominic could keep his secrets, and I’d keep my perfect honeysuckle memories.
