“Lana…” He rubbed a hand over his smooth head, telling me that he was frustrated. “Let’s wait and talk when we get to the restaurant. Please?”
“Only if you tell me this doesn’t have something to do with Layla or Lucy? Are they okay?”
“Both are fine. And Layla is here with me. She’s going to join us later.”
Excitement shot through me. I talked to my sister every day, but a phone call didn’t make up for getting to see Layla. My excitement was short lived because I knew that if this wasn’t about either of my sisters, then that only left one other reason for Jesse to be here like this. I turned my head away so he couldn’t see my expression and gazed out the side window as the limo drove through Wednesday evening traffic in New York City.
The restaurant the limo stopped in front of was so popular there was a six month waiting list for reservations. I had only heard about it, and I really hadn’t had any real urge to try the place out. Expensive food only gave me indigestion, especially when I was presented with the bill.
I figured we would have to wait for a table, but I guess Emmie had worked her magic and had gotten Jesse a quiet table in the back. People actually stopped eating as we passed, and I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. When we reached our table, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Really? You had to bring me here?”
Jesse grinned. “Yes. I had to bring you here.”
“Why? Couldn’t you have just taken me to McDonald’s and bought me a cheeseburger?” That was more me. This place? Not so much!
The waiter brought wine, which I didn’t want. Jesse ignored his glass in favor of his water. I didn’t bother to glance at the menu. It was probably in French or some other language anyway. Instead, I glared at the man seated across me. “I’m getting impatient, Jesse.”
He blew out a long sigh. “I know. I’m trying to work up to it.” I rolled my eyes and he laughed. “We all miss you, you know. It’s the little things that make me think about you.”
“I miss you too, Jess.”
Jesse tossed his menu aside and reached for my hands. “There’s something I want to talk to you about. I need you to really listen, okay?”
“Okay.”
“There is a new show that’s starting in September. It’s called America’s Rocker.” He rolled his eyes when I laughed. Yeah, okay. “Axton Cage was asked to sit on the panel of judges, but one of the other two judges backed out, and Ax said that he wanted someone from Demon’s Wings or he was backing out too. The network agreed.”
I frowned. “So are you going to be in New York more?” I smiled. “That’s great, Jesse!” I would get to see him and my sisters often.
He was shaking his head. “Nik and I both turned it down, and Emmie was about to tell the network to get lost when Drake agreed to do it.”
I sat up straighter in my chair. “What?”
“Everything is taking place here in New York. Everything. The tryouts, the show, the finale. Drake will be here next week. Emmie has already found him an apartment. Shane is coming out here with him.”
I ran a trembling hand through my hair. I hadn’t spoken to Drake since before I had moved to New York. Somehow, I had succeeded in avoiding him until I left. It had killed something inside of me when I left, unable to tell him goodbye, but as the weeks went by and I settled into my new life, things had gotten better. My heart was still shattered, but at least I had swept up the pieces.
Through Jesse and Layla, and even Shane, I had heard that Drake had checked himself into rehab and actually finished it this time. It had been big news in the rock world for about a week. Drake Stevenson sober. It had been a miracle, everyone said. People wondered what had brought on the sudden need to clean up his act.
I talked to Shane regularly, and he always took the chance to tell me that his brother was doing well. Always telling me how many days Drake had been sober, like it was a new mile stone, and really it was. I was proud of him, but that didn’t stop my heart from aching.
It didn’t stop me from wanting him to hold me every night.
But I had given up hope of that ever happening a long time ago.
Chapter 11
Lana
When I had first gotten to New York, part of me—a really big part—had hoped that it would force Drake to realize that he was in love with me. I had lain in bed for two weeks straight, mentally willing him to come after me. Every day, I would search the crowd looking for him. Any guy with overly long, dark hair would make me stop, and I would hold my breath, only to be disappointed when I would realize that it wasn’t Drake.