Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story
- Автор: Lister Ann
- Серия: Sheet Music #1
- Год: 2011
- Язык: голландский
- Год: Lulu.com
- ISBN: 9781105173578
- Жанр: Прочая древняя литература
Электронная книга - «Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story». Краткое содержание книги:
“He’s sleeping,” the muffled male voice in the background replied.
The voice was garbled and Annie couldn’t be certain it was Michael. But Beth had planted the seed of distrust and doubt in her brain. Compound that with the garbage Gary had been feeding her, and Annie was broken. She had heard all she needed to hear. Quietly, she hung up the phone. Her last strand of sanity had snapped in two.
Her next call was to Gary.
“Can you come get me?” Annie sobbed.
“Why, what happened?”
“Can you come or not? I have to get out of here now.”
“I’m on my way.”
Annie managed to pack the few personal items she had in Michael’s house into a suitcase and was waiting on the front steps when Gary arrived. Annie sunk into the front seat of Gary’s car and grimaced in pain. “I’m sorry to bother you.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Annie. I’m glad I was home. Can you tell me why you’re so upset?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now. Do you mind?”
“No, I understand,” Gary replied, gently patting her on the forearm. “I’m taking you back to your apartment, right?”
“Hell no,” Annie quickly answered. “That would be the first place Michael would think to look.”
“What do you mean? I thought Mike knew you were moving.”
“He does. I just don’t want to be there when he comes home, okay? I need a fucking break!”
“Fine. Then where are we going?”
“I don’t know. Just drive.”
Gary drove until the sun set then pulled his car into the parking lot of a hotel in the town of Falmouth. “I’ll get us a room for the night. We can decide in the morning what you want to do from there,” Gary said, exiting the car and heading into the manager’s office.
Gary bought fast-food for dinner and alcohol to wash it all down. While they ate, Annie unburdened her soul. The more she drank, the less it all made sense to Gary.
The next day Gary reluctantly helped Annie board a passenger ferry in Woods Hole headed for the island of Martha’s Vineyard. Annie made him take a vow of secrecy about her final destination and in return, she promised to contact him as soon as she was settled in safely, but Annie never called.
Michael was on his way to a photo-shoot when he got the urgent call from Bonita. Somehow he knew before he even said hello, that something was dreadfully wrong.
“What do you mean, she’s gone? She wasn’t supposed to move until the end of the week!” he hissed into the phone.
“I came back from town and her things are missing. I’m sorry, Mr. Michael. I tried my best!”
“Calm down, Bonita. Tell me what’s missing.”
“All her private things, you know, make-up, clothes, things like that. It’s all gone; except for her cell phone!”
“She didn’t take her phone?”
“No, she left the phone in the kitchen.”
“Did she leave a note?” he asked.
“No note. Do you want me to call the police?”
“Shit no! I’ll call her apartment and see what’s going on. I’m sure it’s nothing more than her moving out a few days early.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Michael. It is all my fault.”
“No it isn’t, Bonita. Call me if you hear from her.”
Michael hung up the phone and swore loudly. Quickly he dialed her old phone number only to be told by the operator that the number was no longer in service. He had no way to contact her and his heart sank. His first reaction was to book a flight back to Boston and track her down himself. But with the volume of tour dates they had scheduled, that option was clearly out of the question. She had promised him she would take care of everything and already the detail of reinstating her house phone had been neglected. Now, he was stuck on the West Coast, hands tied, while she remained missing.
The next person he tried to contact was Gary, and he left a message on his answering machine, then he called the other guys from her band. No one knew Annie was even gone. After three unanswered phone messages to Gary, he began to fear the worst. Bull suggested hiring a private investigator but Michael shrugged it off, believing Annie would appear on her own and explain everything.
When a week went by with no word from Annie, Michael knew she was gone for good. Gary had finally called and left a rambling message on Michael’s cell phone saying he had been away for a few days and that he had no idea where Annie was.
Brian tried relentlessly to console Michael’s wounded heart and ego but his efforts were in vain. Once again, Michael built a wall around himself to hide behind. He went about his job like a robot, smiling only when he had to, and performing on stage when the lights hit his face, but when the crowds left and the lights went out, he sought the privacy and seclusion of his hotel room.
He called everyone he could think of who might possibly know where Annie was hiding. No one had heard a thing. It was as if she had vanished into thin air all by herself, and in the condition she was in, he knew that was an impossible feat. Someone had to know where she was. His best guess was Gary had something to do with it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A week before Thanksgiving, Michael arrived home from the tour. It was two-thirty in the morning and Bonita quietly shuffled her way out into the kitchen when she heard his boots hitting the marble floor.
“Welcome back,” she greeted him, flicking on the wall light switch. When she did, the vision of him startled her. Bonita managed to catch the gasp of shock in her mouth before it escaped her lips. She had never seen him look more defeated. His face was unshaven, clothes wrinkled, dark circles beneath both eyes, and his hair was in desperate need of a trim. This was clearly not the well-groomed man she knew to live there.
Michael managed a soft moan of acknowledgment and tossed his car keys onto the counter top. Then flopped his tired body down onto a barstool and rubbed at his eyes. “Any word from Annie?”
“No, still nothing,” she replied softly. “I picked up your mail, and your phone messages are in that pile,” she stated, pointing to the two neatly filed stacks of paper. “Are you hungry, Mr. Michael?”
“No. I think I ate on the plane. I don’t remember,” he replied scratching his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he sighed, flipping through his mail; most of it was household bills, everything from the power company to the phone. He made a mental note to drop it all off at his accountant’s office in the morning. “I think I’ll just go on up to bed.”
“Okay. I’ll cook you a nice breakfast in the morning,” Bonita chirped and disappeared back into her suite.
Michael made his way through the darkened house and up the front stairs. He stopped in the doorway of his room and pressed the switch for the light. His eyes started on one side of the room and then drifted over to the other, as if beyond reasonable hope that Annie’s things would be miraculously back where they belonged. But, Bonita was right, Annie was gone. The only thing that remained was the slight lingering scent of her perfume and a few framed photographs of them together.
He picked up a snapshot displayed beside the bed and gazed at it. He could remember when Brian had taken the picture down in the music room. In the picture, Annie sat in Michael’s lap, one arm wrapped tightly around his neck, while the other waved at Brian behind the camera. Her face was full of happiness and so was Michael’s.
With exhaustion weighing on his eyelids, he placed the photo face-down on the table and left the room. Opting instead for the family room, he stretched out on the leather couch and quickly fell asleep.