Last Night at Chateau Marmont Read Online Free PDF Page A

cousin you’re calling boring.” He laughed.
    “Ohmigod, I didn’t mean it like that. He’s seems really, uh, great. It just—” The more she stammered, the more amused he appeared.
    “Oh, please.” He interrupted her, placing his wide, warm hand on her forearm. “You’re absolutely, exactly correct. He’s a really great guy—honestly, as sweet as they come—but no one’s ever described him as the life of the party.”
    There was a moment of silence as Brooke racked her brain for something appropriate to say next. It didn’t much matter what it was, so long as she managed to keep her fan status under wraps.
    “I’ve seen you play before,” she announced, before clapping her hand over her mouth in reflexive shock.
    He peered at her. “Oh yeah? Where?”
    “Every Tuesday night at Nick’s.” Any chance of not appearing downright stalkerish had just come to a crashing end.
    “Really?” He seemed puzzled but pleased.
    She nodded.
    “Why?”
    Brooke briefly considered lying and telling him that her bestfriend lived nearby or that she went every week with a group for happy hour, but for a reason she herself didn’t entirely understand, she was completely truthful. “I was there that night at Rue B’s when the jazz quartet canceled and you did that impromptu performance. I thought you, uh, I thought it was awesome, so I asked the bartender for your name and found out you had a regular gig. Now I try to go whenever I can.” She forced herself to look up, convinced he’d be staring at her with horror, and possibly fear, but Julian’s expression revealed nothing, and his silence only made her more determined to fill it.
    “Which is why it was so weird when Trent brought me here tonight . . . such a weird coincidence . . .” She let her words trail off awkwardly and was filled with instant regret at all that she had just revealed.
    When she worked up the nerve to meet his eyes once again, Julian was shaking his head.
    “You must be creeped out,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I promise I’ll never show up at your apartment or your day job. I mean, not that I know where your apartment is, or if you even have a day job. Of course, I’m sure music is your day job, your real job, as it should—”
    The hand was back on her forearm and Julian met her eye. “I see you there every week,” he said.
    “Huh?”
    He nodded and smiled again, this time shaking his head a little as if to say,
I can’t believe I’m admitting this.
“Yeah. You always sit in the far back corner, near the pool table, and you’re always alone. Last week you were wearing a blue dress, and it had white flowers or something sewn on the bottom, and you were reading a magazine but you put it away right as I came on.”
    Brooke remembered the sundress, a gift from her mom to wear at her graduation brunch. Only four months earlier it had felt so stylish; wearing it around the city now made her feel girlishly unsophisticated. The blue did make her red hair look even more fiery, so thatwas good, but it really did nothing for her hips or legs. So engrossed was she in trying to remember how she’d looked that night, she hadn’t noticed Trent return to the table until he pushed a bottle of Bud Light her way.
    “What’d I miss?” he asked, sliding into his seat. “Sure is crowded tonight. Julian, dude, you know how to pack ’em in.”
    Julian clinked his cup with Trent’s bottle and took a long drink. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll get you back after the show.” He nodded to Brooke with what she swore—and prayed—was a knowing look and walked toward the stage.
    She didn’t know then that he would ask Trent for his permission to call her, or that their first phone conversation would make her feel like she was flying, or that their first date would be a defining night in her life. She never would have predicted that they would fall into bed together less than three weeks later after a handful of marathon dates she had never wanted