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"Fine. It's your hair. But we also need to fatten you up, get you to the gym." Carmen stalked to the bedroom, Ramiro once again following her. To her surprise, the bed was fixed, sheets tucked hospital corner tight. Continuing, her tone with a hard, stubborn edge, she said, "And if you're going to stay here, we'll have to find a room for you."
Ramiro made a face but said. "I'm sure I can endure the couch."
"No. I'll have to move some things around in the study but I'm sure I can fit . . . a futon in there." This time, Carmen was red down to her chest, she was sure.
"Minx, please don't put yourself out. I can stay in a hotel - "
"Is that what you'd like?"
Ramiro looked doubtful. "At some point I'll have to be on my own."
"If you're staying here - "
"I told you. Hotels are fine."
"And if you start drinking again? I refuse to have it on my conscience if you revert to that."
"You don't believe in me?" He demanded.
"I never stopped believing in you, Ramiro. But it's a little hard to keep faith when you yourself won't."
He was about to say something, but her words surprised him. When he remained quiet, she continued ticking off plans for today.
"I have meetings until this afternoon and there's this concert I have to go to. But I have two hours free. We can go shopping for the futon then. And, uh, did you pack clothes?"
"The retreat will send me the rest of my stuff."
"We'll see if you you'll survive wearing synthetic fabrics for a day," she told him, grinning. "But until we get you some shirts and pants, I guess we'll be sharing clothes." They were both broad-shouldered, though hers were more impressive. She was six-foot-three, and he an inch shorter. Her t-shirt looked much better on him than on her, and she entertained the image of Ramiro wearing one of her blouses. No doubt he would be way prettier. It wasn't an upsetting thought. His legs would look lovely in her stilettos too . . .
Ramiro smiled back. "Even your underwear?"
"Don't ruin the moment, Ramiro."
At noon,Carmen left her car at the valet service of the Hotel. The doorman recognized her. Tipped his hat at her. Though she had been there many times, he quickly called a concierge to bring her to the restaurant. The host greeted her and personally brought her to the table where Euan Estrada was waiting.
His hair was a thick, silver-blond, and his eyes a dreamy violet. He was tall and lean and looked and acted every inch like a dreamboat. He rose as Carmen neared the table, his movements more graceful than smooth. His smile was warm as he took Carmen by the hand, and they kissed briefly on the lips. It was an intimate but friendly kiss. Carmen flushed at realizing eyes were watching them, and she fumbled as the host pulled out the chair for her to sit down. Euan followed and regarded her, his gaze curious.
"So he's back," he said without preamble.
Carmen nodded. While Ramiro was in the shower this morning, she made a quick call to Euan, informing him about the return of his best friend. She knew Ramiro wouldn't like what she had done, but she had to know if everyone would be on board with plans for a comeback. A year may have only passed, but it was enough time for fame to fade away and people to forget. The task Ramiro wanted of her was equivalent to launching a new group, except she had people's memories and sentimentality to work with.
Euan and Ramiro were best friends. They made the best collaborators. Though they both wrote songs, Euan was stronger at the lyrics and Ramiro at singing. Euan had been upset that Ramiro quit the band and made Carmen break the news to them. A quiet, introspective man, Carmen saw a rare flare of temper in his eyes upon being told of Ramiro's betrayal.
"I thought you should know first," Carmen told him. "But please don't tell him about this meeting?"
"Of course. You know you can count on me."
A server approached them with menus and a wine list. Euan ordered them, and Carmen just let him do it. She was more concerned with the outcome of this meeting than what she'd be putting in her stomach.
"I know you don't want him to know," he told her when the waiter left. "But I had to tell the rest of the guys." To Carmen's surprise, he was quick to explain. "I thought to spare you. Both of you. Ramiro is like a brother to me. Though he was a self-centered fuck for what he did, I've forgiven him. Lucas, can be persuaded. Lennon would tell whatever Caitlin tells him to do and we both know what that would be. But Russell is another matter."
"Russell," Carmen echoed. "Why?"
"He doesn't want to come back. Ever."
"What?"Carmen exclaimed so loudly that heads turned toward them. He winced as she blushed, and she said more softly, "Explain to me."
"He's tired. He's sick of paparazzi chasing him, sick of the constant violation of his privacy. He's in France and has no plans of returning anytime soon. Not to mention that his family still gives him grief though it's been years since he last saw any of them."
