I took a deep breath, in through my nose, out again. “Whynot?”
“Because we do that, I lose my job,Zane.”
“I told you. I’ll talk to Brody. He’s a brother. We’ve been friends since I was fourteen. You think he cares more about the business than the band, than me, you’re deadwrong.”
“That’s not how it works, Zane. You think we tell everyone and the next day we just… What? Start dating? Your groupies bounce in and out of your bed, and on the side you buy me flowers and court me, take me to dinner, ask me about my favorite color and my girlhood dreams?” Her gray eyes held mine, cool and unflinching. “Or maybe it’s the groupies who’re on theside.”
I didn’t even respond to that. I tried to keep my cool, when I really wanted to slap her upside the head for the first time in mylife.
“It’s pink,” I said calmly. “You pretend your favorite color is lime green, like that suede jacket you always wear, but it’spink.”
She frowned atme.
“And your girlhood dream? You wanted to be a genie. Like the girl from that old TV show. Because you wanted to live inside the magic bottle with the wraparound couch, and you had a thing for the astronautguy.”
She frowned deeper and crossed her arms over her chest. “So? He looked hot in hisuniform.”
“So yousaid.”
“I didn’t know you werelistening.”
I took her by the waist and pulled her to me, but she wouldn’t let me get close; her hands went to my chest and held meoff.
“You wanna date, we can date,” I told her. “You want flowers, I’ll get you flowers. Whatever the fuck youwant.”
“Until what? I catch you in the middle of your latest fuck-bunnyorgy?”
“That doesn’t have to be the way itis.”
She shoved me away, and I let my handsdrop.
“You forget who you’re talking to,” she said flatly. “I’ve seen it allbefore.”
“Seen whatbefore?”
She shook her head. “It’s an old, old story,” she said, “and it’s fucking boring, and I know how itends.”
Oldstory?
It hit me then, what shemeant.
She wasn’t even talking aboutus.
“I’m not Dizzy,” I told her. “I’m not your fuckingdad.”
“Maybenot.”
Jesus.The girl was fucking stubborn. “So why don’t you tell me, then. How does it end? Because I’d really like to know, since you’re able to see into the fuckingfuture.”
“It ends,” she said, “when we get a divorce. And after that, if I haven’t already, I lose my job. I get dumped, phased out. Whether it’s fast or slow, however you want to look at it, you’re the rock star, and I’mgone.”
Fuck.I could see why she’d think that. I reallycould.
But that was never gonna fuckinghappen.
“It won’t be like that,Maggie.”
“Itwill.”
