Smoothing my dress beneath me, I sat down then took the menu from the server, who nodded, then backed away.
“The salmon is good if you like fish.” I briefly glanced up. “Although I’d wager you’re a steak man. Rare.”
“Actually, I’m a pescatarian. Salmon it is.”
He pushed his menu to one side without even looking at it while I swallowed down a lump of shame at stereotyping him. If the roles were reversed, it would have pissed me off.
“I am rare, though.” Another beaming smile forced a roll of my eyes.
“Are you ever serious?”
“When the situation calls for it.”
“Good to know dinner with me isn’t a situation that calls for you to be serious.” I beckoned a server hovering nearby. “One salmon, one sirloin.” I gave Joz my eyes. “Rare.”
He chuckled, toasting me with his glass of water before taking a sip.
“Do you want wine?”
He shook his head. “I don’t drink.”
I suppressed my surprise and dismissed the server. Once he’d retreated, Joz expanded.
“I should say I don’t drink anymore.”
“A former problem?”
“Yes.”
“You wouldn’t be the first, and you won’t be the last. It’s a tough business.”
“Yeah.” His eyes glazed over, possibly lost in his memories.
“Which is why I’m intrigued that you tagged on a record deal for Presley to your demands.”
He blinked, the momentary vulnerability vanishing in an instant. “Talent like his deserves to be heard.”
“Agreed, but he’ll still have that talent in two or three years once he’s had the opportunity to mature.”
“I was twenty, just a year younger than him, when I got my big break.”
“And, like you admitted, it came with consequences.” I sat back and rested my hands on the crisp white tablecloth, drumming my fingers as I perused the man sitting across from me. “You and I both know that people who achieve fame when they’re too young often struggle. They either go off the rails or they think they’re God. Presley would do better by earning his stripes on the pub and club circuit. Hone his skills while there’s no pressure, no press eager to build him up so they can knock him down.”
“He’ll have something that I, and many others, didn’t.”
“And that is?”
“You.” He propped his elbows on the table and fanned his hands out to the side. “And me.”
I leveled him with a stern look. “Which brings me back to my question earlier today. Why? What’s in it for you?”
“You’re looking for motivations that don’t exist, Aspen. My answer remains the same. I want to help the kid, to give back to an industry that’s given me a career. Offer him the support I never had. Be a mentor if you like. Someone to steer him right.”
“If you were a few years older, I’d guess he might be your son.”
Joz threw back his head and bellowed a laugh. “Wild imagination you have there, Spitfire.”
I didn’t correct him on the nickname. It was growing on me. Not that I’d share those thoughts with Joz. “You could easily have kids out there somewhere that you don’t know about.”
