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  Rock Star

  Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

  Genesis Press, Inc.

  Indigo Love Spectrum

  An imprint of Genesis Press, Inc.

  Publishing Company

  Genesis Press, Inc.

  P.O. Box 101

  Columbus, MS 39703

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, not known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission of the publisher, Genesis Press, Inc. For information write Genesis Press, Inc., P.O. Box 101, Columbus, MS 39703.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.

  Copyright © 2006, 2009 by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-58571-530-5

  ISBN-10: 1-58571-530-1

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition 2006

  Second Edition 2009

  Visit us at www.genesis-press.com or call at 1-888-Indigo-1-4-0

  Dedication

  For my mama, Edith Marie Hardy (1929–2004), for the gift of reading and writing.

  I’m still missing you.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you, Whitney, for taking care of me so many times after I stayed up all night writing. You truly are the best husband in the entire universe. And for my sweet baby boy, Luke. How did we get so lucky? A special thank you to the Legacy crew at Mindkandy’s, especially Teri. This book would never have been finished if y’all hadn’t hounded me for a chapter-a-day.

  For my editor, Sidney Rickman. Who knew there could be so many errors in one manuscript? Your patience, diligence and thoroughness know no bounds.

  Chapter 1

  Callie rubbed again at the ropes that held her arms tied firmly behind her back. Her partner Tonya’s enthusiasm for this type of thing was wearing a bit thin.

  “Come on, Tonya,” she urged looking over her shoulder. “Haven’t you figured out how you want to tie this thing yet?” Tonya’s only response was an exasperated grunt. “Look, we’ve got a bookstore to run here. Maybe you can do your research another time.”

  “Just a second, Callie, I think I’ve got it.” Tonya paused, a frown clouding her pretty face. “Maybe if I tie your feet too it would be more in keeping with the character.”

  “All I know is the next time I get to tie you up!” Callie muttered exasperatedly.

  Bryan surveyed the scene before him. Two black women of similarly slender size and above-average height seemed to be engaged in some type of bondage game. One of the women had light skin and a heart-shaped face that was accentuated by closely cropped natural hair. As for the other, Bryan did a double-take. She was without a doubt the most incredibly beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She had long, skinny dreadlocks pulled back from her face with a headband and large, chocolate brown eyes with an exotic tilt at the corners. Combined with highly sculptured cheekbones, the eyes gave her a sensual look that belied her professional dress. Even in the conservative oatmeal-colored linen pantsuit she wore with a coordinating mocha-colored shell top, her features were striking. Her companion was dressed more flamboyantly in a bright red blouse with suede appliqué and fringe and a pair of black knit boot-cut trousers. Both women were lovely, but Bryan couldn’t take his eyes off the one with the dreadlocks. God, she needs to come to L.A. She could make a fortune. I wonder if she’d consider being in a music video.

  Bryan watched for a few more seconds, then spoke up. “I thought I’d left this sort of thing behind in L.A.”

  Callie and Tonya both looked up, surprised to see that anyone had entered the store.

  He continued, “Beautiful women into ropes. What a way to start the day. I don’t suppose you do chains and handcuffs, too?” he added hopefully.

  Callie blushed furiously. “This is not what it looks like.” She pulled forcefully at Tonya’s hands. “Come on, girl, untie me.” She looked back at the smiling man over the counter. “We don’t open until nine o’clock.”

  “It’s just past nine now, and the door was open.”

  Her hands finally freed, Callie walked around the counter to greet the customer. She extended one newly liberated hand. “Hi, I’m Callie Lawson, and this is my partner Tonya Stevens.” When the man smiled knowingly, Callie felt the heat intensify in her face. “No, not that kind of partner. She’s my business partner…and a part-time mystery novelist.” He nodded sagely. “Sometimes she has to work out the plots literally.”

  Bryan Spencer took the slim, delicate hand into his own, its softness in startling contrast to his own callused fingers. He stared at the beautiful woman before him, an enigmatic smile on his face as she tried to explain that she and her partner were not playing lesbian bondage games behind the counter of the bookstore. Now that they were closer, he could see that her cinnamon-colored skin was virtually flawless and almost velvety smooth. But her eyes captivated him in a way he’d never experienced before. She presented a picture of elegance, or would have, had she not been so flustered.

  Callie finally fumbled to a halt in her explanations, but the sudden realization that he was still holding her hand renewed her blushing embarrassment. She pulled it away quickly, holding it behind her back as if afraid that he would take it against her will. She asked again if she could assist him.

  Having decided to forego teasing her, Bryan asked for William Gibson’s Mona Lisa Overdrive.

  Callie smiled. “Hmmmm, going to read about cyber cowboys, are you?” she asked as she briskly walked past him to the rear of the store.

  Bryan followed, enjoying the view of her pert bubble butt. Even encased as it was in crisp linen, it still enticed him to follow anywhere she led. An ass like that, and she knows Gibson too. “Have you read the book?”

  Callie arrived at her destination. “Oh yes, I love science fiction, but Octavia Butler is my favorite author.” She scanned the shelves. “Yep, just as I thought, we have several Gibson books. I really loved Neuromancer.” She turned just in time to catch Bryan checking out her backside. “Do you need anything else?” she asked, ice practically dripping off her words.

  It was Bryan’s turn to blush now, a reaction he hadn’t experienced in quite a while. He smiled again, “No, I think I’ll just browse for a while.”

  Callie returned to the counter, where Tonya was trying to resist a fit of the giggles. “No,” she gasped, mimicking Callie, “Not that kind of a partner.”

  Callie nudged her. “Cut it out. Don’t you think we’ve made enough of a spectacle of ourselves for one morning?”

  Tonya snorted inelegantly. “What are you talking about? Dude said he’s from L.A., didn’t he? He probably sees this and worse on a daily basis.”

  Callie turned her nose up. “L.A.? For all you know he could’ve meant Lower Alabama! Regardless of where he’s from, we don’t behave this way in our store. You know it’s important that we present ourselves as professionals at all times. Anyway, are you going to work this morning or this afternoon?”

  Tonya turned away from the counter and started up the stairs to the second floor where they lived. “I think I’ll write this morning and then spell you in the afternoon.” Callie nodded and started going through the cash register procedures for opening the store. Despite her best efforts, though, she couldn’t keep her mind off their early-morning customer. He was tall, at least six-two by her estimate, as he was a head taller than she, and she was five-nine
in her stocking feet. His long, whipcord lean body bristled with barely contained energy. His hair was dark brown, almost black, and quite long—the ponytail he queued it into hung a third of the way down his back. But his eyes were his most striking feature. Deep-set into a long, angular face and an eerie, stormy blue, they gave him the look of a tortured poet. She wondered who he was and what he was doing in Maple Fork, Alabama. She was unnerved to have caught him checking out her backside, and hoped he hadn’t noticed her giving him a similar perusal. Still, he looked vaguely familiar. For the life of her, she couldn’t get over the idea that she knew him from somewhere.

  “My name is Bryan Spencer, by the way.”

  Callie looked up, startled by the man’s quiet approach. How on earth does he move so quietly in those big clunky boots he’s wearing? “What?” She had missed most of what he’d said.

  Bryan smiled. “I’m Bryan Spencer. You introduced yourself earlier, and I was too rude to return the favor.”

  Damn, that smile again. It really was a nice smile. She’d noticed it earlier even during their embarrassing first encounter. His teeth looked as though they’d been laid out by an obsessive-compulsive brick mason. “Oh, okay. Well, Bryan, welcome to Maple Fork. I see that you picked up two Gibson books. What else did you get?”

  Bryan placed the books he held on the counter, “On your glowing recommendation, I got a couple of Octavia Butler books, too.”

  Callie studied the covers of the two books he had placed in front of her. “Well, you picked two good ones to start with. Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents are my favorites. Did you check out Kindred, too?”

  “No, is that a good one?”

  “All of her books are good, but that one is unusual in that it’s primarily set in the past. So basically it’s a historical set in the early nineteenth century in the South. It has time-travel in a very different way. Butler is a wonder at character development. Unlike many science fiction writers, the futuristic technology in her novels is merely a backdrop for really phenomenal characters. It’s excellent and really comes to life.”

  Bryan turned back to the science fiction section of the store. “Then I’ll get that one, too.”

  Callie rang up his purchases, concentrating on the task at hand to prevent her thoughts from wandering again. When she completed the transaction, Bryan smiled again and left the store. It was not until he had left her line of sight outside the store that it dawned on Callie that in recommending Kindred she’d suggested a book that featured an interracial relationship. Surely he wouldn’t think that she was trying to make a suggestion…Golly gee willikers, Callie. What in the world were you thinking? She exclaimed to herself. How big an idiot can you make of yourself in one morning? Of course he wouldn’t read anything into her recommendation. She’d suggested it to white men before, and it had been no big deal. Yeah, she thought with wry insight, but those white men didn’t have beautiful blue eyes and a killer smile.

  Chapter 2

  It was a busy Saturday morning at Books and So Forth. As usual, back-to-school time meant that Callie and Tonya were besieged by frantic parents trying desperately to complete school reading lists. They were always very careful to order sufficient stock to cover the schools in the area, but at least one school could be counted on to provide an outdated or incomplete list. As the only bookstore in town, they were under tremendous pressure to fulfill the requests. Otherwise the customers would go up the road to Chattanooga or over to Huntsville. Neither city was more than an hour or so away. Tonya was on the telephone now frantically trying to rush order an additional twenty copies of a book that had been inadvertently left off the high school list. Callie was trying to wait on customers and ring up purchases at the same time. They had prudently placed all the school reading list books on a table near the register. Unfortunately, that table had to be straightened up every thirty minutes or so.

  “Girl, if one more person asks for Night Weasel I’m going to have to take hostages,” Callie muttered under her breath as Tonya returned to the register. She had never been able to determine why it happened, but each year any number of people managed to mangle the title of the Pulitzer prize-winning book Night, by the Holocaust survivor, Elie Wiesel.

  Tonya giggled. “Now remember, Callie, this is your dream…to bring literature to the unwashed masses.”

  Callie rolled her eyes. Then looking out at the crowd in the store, she had to snicker too. This was her dream. What on earth was she complaining about? She smiled as she recalled the pride and sense of accomplishment she’d felt the day the sign had gone up on the front of the store. Printed in elegant script, the sign was painted canary yellow and robin’s egg blue to coordinate with the trim on the aged, red brick storefront. When the Maple Fork Restoration Committee had undertaken the task of rejuvenating downtown Maple Fork, they’d been dismissed as a bunch of crackpots. No one had believed the town could survive the loss of the steel industry. One of the first plans had been to restore the storefronts in the area to their original red brick. Each store owner had been required to coordinate trim and door colors in a way to give the entire street an enticing homey feel that made customers want to get out of their cars and walk along the cobblestone sidewalks, increasing foot traffic. Callie had chosen the bright blue and canary yellow scheme for her store. On the inside, canary yellow gave way to a soothing butter cream. With light streaming in from the four large windows in front reflecting off aged yellow pine floors, the interior literally glowed. Callie had deliberately accentuated the effect with soft, cozy chenille-covered chairs and benches all over the store to invite the readers to come in and curl up with a good book.

  She and Tonya had started the store five years ago when she was right out of business school with a bright and shiny new MBA, but very little money. She’d been told repeatedly that she was foolish to start a business in small-town Alabama when she could go to the “big city” and parlay her credentials into a lucrative career. But fired up with the fever of black entrepreneurship, Callie hadn’t listened to the nay-sayers. Enlisting the aid of her best friend Tonya, she had begged, borrowed, and leveraged herself to the hilt to open Books and So Forth.

  Tonya was more or less a silent partner, allowing Callie to handle most of the day-to-day operations of the store. She’d contributed capital, sweat, equity, and her own creative flair to make the endeavor a success. Now in their fifth year with the bookstore, they were finally in the black and could contemplate finding living accommodations away from the store. And maybe even hiring some help. She and Tonya had worked extraordinarily long hours for the past five years, and Callie knew that they would have to hire someone, or the type of imaginative innovations and customer service that had made Books and So Forth a success would begin to suffer. A little rest and relaxation would give them an opportunity to brainstorm. She made a mental note to talk to Tonya about placing an ad for a cashier.

  During a late-afternoon lull, Callie and Tonya took a much-needed break to grab a bite to eat and rest for a moment. They sat down at a table in their little break area in the back of the store. The room was tiny with cinder block walls and barely enough room for a small refrigerator, a table, and two chairs. Callie did most of the paperwork for the store upstairs in their apartment, where she’d set aside an area for a home office. This room was primarily for taking a breather during a lull in floor traffic. They kept it stocked with bottled water, sodas, and snacks because they frequently had to eat at odd hours, and never knew when hunger pangs would strike.

  “He came back, you know,” Tonya said offhandedly as she took another sip of her iced tea.

  Callie looked up distractedly from the morning receipts. “I think we’re going to break a thousand dollars today. It’ll be our biggest one-day total.” She frowned as Tonya’s statement sank in. “Who came back?”

  “You know, the fine, white guy who was in here the other day. The one who was checking you out.”

  Callie stacked the receipts and abruptly sto
od up. “He was not checking me out!” She went out to place the receipts back in the register and then returned to the break area. Curious, despite her best efforts not to be, she asked with a nonchalance she didn’t feel, “When did he come back?”

  Not fooled for a second, Tonya replied, “He was in here in the early afternoon, when you went to make the bank drop.”

  “Hmmmm, did he buy anything this time?” Callie asked, the sales record still uppermost in her mind.

  “Naw, he stood in the doorway, saw all those crazy folks in here and dipped,” Tonya said, tossing the remains of her salad into the trash. “Of course, he could’ve left because he didn’t see his “Nubian Goddess” behind the counter,” Tonya teased. ‘Nubian Goddess’ was an inside joke with them, as a young man in college had followed Callie around for an entire semester calling her that. Fortunately, he had flunked out over summer break, or they would have had to resort to desperate measures to deal with him. Callie sniffed, “I don’t think so. I’m sure he just came back for some more books. With his looks he doesn’t have to come all the way to Alabama to get his swerve on.”

  “I didn’t say he had to, I said he wanted to,” Tonya replied.

  Callie dismissed the idea, “Regardless, there won’t be any swerving here, no matter how fine he might be.”

  “Oh, so you did notice his looks?” Tonya asked archly.

  “Well, they would be kind of hard to miss,” Callie replied sardonically.

  “I don’t know, girl, sometimes I wonder about you,” Tonya replied.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, guys are checking you out all the time, and you seem sort of, I don’t know, oblivious to it. I just wonder what the deal is.”

  Callie wiped the table down with a sponge. “Do you really think I have had time for a man these past five years? You know the kind of hours we’ve had to work just trying to get this store off the ground. Besides, it’s not like you’re burning up in the romance department either.”