“Nah. It’s late, and Sam had to drive back to Green Peaks.”
“He could have stayed over in one of the rooms here.”
Laurel waved off the idea. “He’s glad he doesn’t have to deal with me every day. After what I’ve put him through, poor guy deserves a vacation.”
Monty’s expression crumbled. For a terrifying moment, I thought he was going to force a hug on Laurel.
But he schooled his face into serious interest and perched on a barstool next to him. I deemed it safer to stay behind the counter.
Monty leaned close to Laurel, unleashing the full power of his big brown eyes. “Laurel, how come you’re here alone?”
It would be another of his honest outbursts.
“I told you, I needed a break,” Laurel said defensively.
“But you don’t look happy about being alone.”
Uh-oh. I braced myself for impact. Laurel had been inexplicably tolerant toward Monty so far, but everyone had a limit. I tried to catch Monty’s gaze, but he was avoiding looking at me. “Monty…”
“It’s true,” he quipped innocently.
“Just because something seems true to you doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud without thinking,” I said.
But Laurel lifted his palm to stop me. “No, Monty’s right.” His face looked stone cold, but his eyes glazed over.
“What about your friends?” Monty asked quietly.
Laurel swirled the snifter and gazed at the last few drops of the golden drink as if it held all the answers. “I have Calvin. But he’s spending twelve hours a day with a kid attached to his chest.”
My big teddy bear looked flabbergasted. He had a phonebook full of people he called friends, and most of them liked him back. “There’s nobody else?”
“People… I don’t know.” Laurel blew out a breath. “I’m not good at friendships. Or any other kind of relationships. Calvin only stuck around because he’s the nicest person on the planet. The others… They either work for me or want a piece of me. Nobody ever wants the real me. Not that I can blame them.”
In the subsequent quiet, the grandfather clock on the wall let out a quiet ding.
Then Monty opened his mouth again. “I get why people stay away from you.”
“Montgomery, for fuck’s sake…” I tried, but Laurel put a hand on my arm.
“I want to hear it.” He swiveled to face Monty, and his gaze hardened. “Why do you think?”
Monty wriggled on the barstool and, for once, he looked a little nervous. “You’re beautiful and famous, right? But you want people to love the real you, beneath the fame and the face. Except you don’t give anyone a chance.”
“I don’t?”
“You seem kind of absent-minded, like you don’t care about what’s going on around you. And you can be a little, um, snippy. I suppose if you weren’t beautiful and famous, most people wouldn’t dare try to get close to you. So maybe the real people,who could become actual friends, stay away. And you’re left with the ones who want you for the golden finish.”
Laurel gaped. He looked shocked, a little pale, his glassy eyes wide.
Monty just told the greatest rock star of our generation, who everyone was constantly trying to schmooze and impress, that his unhappiness was his own fault because he treated people around him like shit.
That would land like a lead balloon.
“I think you should apologize, Monty,” I said quietly. “Not that it’ll help.”
Laurel closed his mouth and looked around as if waking up in a different reality. He banged his fist on the countertop, making Monty jerk.
“You…”
