It was strange having Lori around. When I first came into the kitchen to fix us some coffee, she was unloading groceries.
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about Lori,” Ben whispered in my ear, then kissed the side of my neck. He took the stool beside me.
“Mr. Schilling, your normal, sir?”
“Thanks, Lori.”
She placed a glass of green juice in front of him, and I received the bacon and eggs.
“That looks good,” Ben said, then guzzled his juice.
“You are taking eating like a horse seriously.”
“I’ll be in the other room, sir,” Lori said.
I turned my body to face him. “I thought you were hungry?”
He took another long sip. “I think I’ll take one of those.” He snatched a piece of bacon from my plate, taking a bite. “Now, I have more protein.” He laughed.
“Hey, that’s mine.”
He placed the rest of the bacon between his lips, and I bit a piece off.
“I have a ten o’clock board meeting,” he said with his mouth full, taking a drink of the green stuff.
That stuff must help; I’d seen him naked, and he looked amazing. It was difficult for him not to, but when he wore a three-piece suit, he was a walking demigod.
“You want to meet me back here after work?” he asked.
Looking into his eyes, he held the confidence of my answer, but there was a moment I saw doubt. I placed my hand on his cheek.
“I would love to.”
The hard cement felt like a cloud underneath my feet at the thought of Ben. He made everything feel good, even the streets of New York. While people walked by as I played—some were interested, most too busy to stop—I sang my heart out.
I tried out new songs, and it drew in more of a crowd. The set list seemed to work, and the tips flowed in. Even Harry had a profitable afternoon of kabob sales.
The day turned out to be great until I saw his wavy blond hair. Even though Derek tried to blend in with the crowd, it was tough when he was wearing an Afghan poncho. He was tall, like Ben, over six-foot-two, but that was the only similarity. Ben looked like Wall Street, was built, and had the brightest eyes. Derek was more of a lean surfer type with dull brown eyes. He walked over as I placed my guitar in the case.
“Derek, I asked you not to come here.”
“I know, Mel, but you can’t blame me for trying. I still love you.”
He had confessed those words many times, yet the meaning was twisted and void.
“Your actions have said the opposite.”
He reached for my hand, and I stumbled back.
“Mel, please give me one more chance. I came to New York for you!”
“I didn’t ask you to. In fact, I broke things off before you came.”
He closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts. “I came here to work things out. You said I had no goals in life, but I dreamed of a future with you. You are my life.”
It was difficult hearing that, and I didn’t want to keep hurting him.
“Please... stop. It’s over.”
“Because of your new boyfriend?”
I wanted to say yes, but it was over long before Ben.
“Derek, please respect my wishes and don’t come here or the coffee bar. I don’t want to report you to the authorities.”
“You think I’d hurt you?” he asked, stepping into my personal space.
I didn’t think he would, but you never really knew someone, and I never imagined he would follow me across the country.
He grabbed my arms. “How could you think I would hurt you? Even after I’ve admitted my love for you?”
The scene Derek had caused was non-existent to the passersby, but Harry was close if I needed him.
“Let go of me, Derek.” I struggled to get out of his grip.
“Not until you hear me out,” he hissed.
Now, I was scared.
His eyes looked glazed and determined, and his grip tightened.
I had to think quickly. Taking a deep breath, I straightened and looked him directly in the eyes.
“I will listen only when you let go of me.”
His eyes shifted back and forth before he loosened his grip and finally released his hands.
“Your new boyfriend is a criminal.”
I reached for my guitar. “I don’t have time for this.”
“I looked him up. His name is Ben Schilling, right?”
I turned and asked, “How did you look him up?”
“Sally saw his name on the credit card.”
I was sure it was illegal for Sally to give out customer information, but I wasn’t surprised. She was the kind of server who would do just about anything for a big tip.
“Derek, you don’t have a clue—”
“His father and uncle run a law firm, one that has supported some shady artists. You can find all of this online, but I printed it out for you.” He handed me a folder with several copies of articles. “They were being indicted for some illegal dealings until it mysteriously disappeared.”
I perused the folder, looking at the headlines about Harper.
“Derek, they disappeared for a reason. Ben doesn’t work for Harper. Next time, get your facts straight.”
“Don’t let this guy fool you, Mel. Look this stuff over. You’ll see your boyfriend’s name is all over it.”
It was all a misunderstanding, I was sure of it. Ben’s father was famous, and I knew there were mistruths regarding Ben.
“There’s a current lawsuit about artists’ masters,” Derek stated. “Several artists have come forward, saying they were represented by the Schillings, who, in fact, was counsel for their label.”
Ben’s father wouldn’t deprive an artist of their rights to own their music. He told me so himself when I met up with him. When he mentioned it, I thought it was a strange topic to come up, but assumed it was a concern for artists. Maybe not new artists like me, but for artists already established in the business.
“Derek, you crossed the line. If you come near me again, I will report you.”
“Melody, promise you will look over what I found. I don’t want to hurt you—ever. But these are people you don’t want to be mixed up with.”
I grabbed my case and pushed past him.
The subway was extra smelly, and I needed to focus on something other than the folder in my backpack.
The fact that Derek researched all of this didn’t sit well. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was there for me when my mother was dying of cancer and was wonderful afterward, a true friend I leaned on. He made me laugh, took my mind off real life for moments of time, and I appreciated him for it. He would never physically hurt me, I was sure of it, until today. Derek was the kind of person who would have warned me, yes, but not snoop around.
“Spare change,” the man asked, smelling of booze.
“Sorry?” I wasn’t sure what he said, which wasn’t smart of me. I needed to be alert on the subway, especially.
“You have change, bitch, I know you do.” He looked down at my guitar case.
A man standing next to me stepped forward. “Move along!”
The drunk man looked him up and down and went to the next subway car.
I mouthed a “thank you,” with a smile to the stranger and went back to my thoughts of Derek.