Rewind: Rock Hard Book 3

  Rewind

  Rock Hard Book 3

  Kat Mizera

  Copyright © 2021 by Kat Mizera

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  Editing: Tera Cuskaden, Taylor Bellitto

  Cover Photographer: Wander Aguiar

  Cover Model: Roddy Hanson

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Fast Forward

  Also by Kat Mizera

  About the Author

  1

  Brianna

  * * *

  Triple grande oat milk caramel macchiato, upside down, extra caramel, sugar-free cinnamon dolce with whipped cream and cinnamon on top. I’d been told everyone took turns picking up coffee from Starbucks whenever there was a staff meeting. Today, the Starbucks closest to the office had been out of caramel, so I’d had to hoof it an extra eight blocks to the next closest one, in heels no less, and now I was going to be late. I’d wanted to impress my new boss, or I never would have walked so far out of my way, and now I was regretting that choice.

  I hurried into the building and saw a guy in a leather jacket with a ponytail getting onto the elevator. I picked up speed, calling out, “Wait! Please hold the elevator.” I saw him put his hand on the door to stop it from closing just as the tip of one of my stiletto heels caught in the carpet and I lurched forward. The tray I was holding, complete with four coffee drinks, flew through the air. He reached out to catch me but wasn’t fast enough, so both me and an explosion of coffee landed all over him, sending us crashing to the elevator floor just as the doors closed behind us.

  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” I could barely see through my hair, which was now draped all over us, but I wiggled free and attempted to stand up as I looked down at his coffee- and whipped-cream-drenched jacket and jeans in horror.

  “Yeah, I think so. Other than the fact that I now get to sit in the dentist’s chair soaking wet and smelling like a vanilla venti organic something-or-other coffee drink.” He had pale blue eyes and the cutest dimples I’d seen on a man in a long time, but I couldn’t think about that now.

  “I really am sorry. I can pay for your dry cleaning.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.” He got to his feet and held out a hand to help me.

  “Thank you.” I stood up and attempted to slide my shoe back on, a litany of curses escaping me when I realized the heel had snapped off. “Son of a no-good-fucking whore. The heel is broken. What in hell am I supposed to do now? Motherfucker!”

  “Uh, go home and get new shoes?”

  I grimaced, squatting down to pick up the empty coffee cups. “I don’t have time. I have a staff meeting that starts in a few minutes. And it was my turn to get coffee.”

  “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  I shook my head. “You’re sweet for offering, but I should be the one asking you what I can do because now you’re as much of a mess as I am.”

  “Accidents happen.” He smiled and then winced, as if in pain.

  “You okay?” I asked, frowning.

  “Toothache,” he murmured. “I’m on my way to the dentist.”

  “Dr. Morgan?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Dr. Morgan has been my dentist since college and he’s amazing. He’ll take good care of you.”

  “I found him a few years ago and like him a lot. I just hope he can make this tooth stop hurting.”

  We were just standing there looking at each other when I realized the elevator car hadn’t gone anywhere.

  “Did either of us pick a floor?” he asked, following my gaze to the panel, where none of the buttons were lit up.

  I bit my lip for a second and then we both burst out laughing.

  “By the way, I’m Declan,” he said, holding out a wet, sticky hand.

  “Brianna.” I shook it anyway.

  Our eyes met again and I was momentarily overwhelmed by how good-looking he was, though I didn’t usually go for guys with long hair and leather jackets. He had dark blond hair and a matching cropped beard that gave him an edgy look, but his features were classically handsome and there was no mistaking broad shoulders and a tapered waist.

  Damn, I needed to get laid or something because no one had affected me like this in a very long time. Even covered in coffee and a baseball cap masking part of his face, he made my heart beat a little faster. Too bad I had to get to my stupid meeting.

  “I’ll go up to Dr. Morgan’s with you,” I said after a minute. “My friend Chloe is the receptionist there and I might be able to squeeze into a pair of her flats. She usually keeps a pair under her desk.”

  “Okay, great. And maybe they’ll let me clean up a little in the bathroom.”

  I glanced down at his soaking wet crotch and grimaced. “I’m, uh, not sure there’s much you can do about that.”

  “I know.” He looked down too and made a face. “You’ve got good aim.”

  I tried not to laugh but couldn’t help it. “Not usually. I’m really sorry, though, and I’ll absolutely pay your dry-cleaning bill if you send it to me when you get home.”

  “Not necessary. I’ll do laundry tonight.”

  “Here we are.” I let him walk into the dentist’s office ahead of me and Chloe looked up in amusement.

  “Why are you barefoot, B?” she asked. “Don’t you have a big meeting today?”

  “Yeah, well, you know my luck. I fell, broke my heel, and proceeded to drench your nine-thirty appointment with four vanilla venti organic something-or-other macchiatos.” I winked at Declan as I chuckled.

  “Oh, geez. Are you Mr. James?” Chloe got up.

  Declan nodded. “Guilty.”

  “Hang on. Let me get you a T-shirt. We do giveaways and I think there are a few bigger ones that would hang over your jeans and cover your, uh, wet spot.” She tried not to giggle but he made a motion with his hand.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “I know I look ridiculous, but you can laugh all you want as long as you get this damn tooth to stop hurting.”

  “Dr. Morgan will take good care of you. Be right back.” She disappeared in the back and I went behind the desk and dug around in search of Chloe’s backup flats.

  “I’m in luck!” I said, standing up and holding out a pair of black shoes. They were pretty basic and boring compared to the high heels I’d been wearing, but definitely more professional than going barefoot.

  “What kind of work do you do?” he asked, meeting my gaze curiously.

  “I just started a new job working for a catering company.”

 
“Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” I put the shoes on and looked up as Chloe came back in. “I took your flats,” I told her. “I’ll bring them back to you tomorrow, okay?”

  Chloe nodded as she handed Declan a purple T-shirt that said “Morgan’s Molars are Molecular” and directed him to the restroom. “You can change and clean up in there. If you give me your insurance card, I’ll check you in while you do that.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “I have to go.” I smiled at him as I headed for the door. “It was really nice meeting you, Declan, and I’m sorry I drenched you in overpriced macchiatos.”

  “If I had to start my day drenched in overpriced organic venti whatchamacallits, I can’t think of anyone lovelier to deliver them.” His eyes twinkled as our eyes locked, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe. Holy shit, who was this guy?

  My cheeks felt a little warm as I said, “Take care.”

  “Bye, Brianna.”

  Our eyes met one last time and then he disappeared into the bathroom.

  I didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, and raced back to the elevator.

  * * *

  “You’re late.” My new boss, Marla, looked up at me, one of her jet-black brows lifted in a perfect upside-down U.

  “And no coffee!” My roommate and coworker, Kiki Hansen, wailed.

  “I fell,” I admitted, grimacing. “My heel hooked in something on the carpet and I wiped out, taking a guy in the elevator—and all our coffees—with me.”

  Kiki bit her lip, trying not to laugh, and Marla gave me a look that was meant to be stern. Instead, she burst out laughing.

  “Was he cute?” Another of my coworkers, Gordie Mazetti, wiggled his eyebrows.

  “He was,” I said, smiling. “But I had to go, so there went the future Mr. Franklin, running away from me as fast as his coffee-soaked legs could carry him.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Okay, we have a lot to talk about today,” Marla said, “but we can’t do it without coffee. Gordie, go find us some coffee while we discuss heels for Bri.”

  “Here.” I dug around in my purse for a twenty but Gordie waved me off.

  “You’ve had a rough enough morning,” he said, laughing as he left.

  “I’m assuming we have a job coming up that will require us to wear heels?” I asked, sinking down next to Kiki. She was the one who’d gotten me this job and told me bringing coffee would earn me brownie points, but that hadn’t gone the way I’d hoped so I was just glad Marla wasn’t mad.

  Marla looked around the room and took a breath. “Okay, the big news is that I’ve formed a partnership with Priscilla’s Novelty Catering.”

  Kiki let out a low whistle. “Damn, boss lady. That’s big time.”

  Marla nodded. “Which is why we need to wear heels sometimes. Beginning with a party Saturday night for someone famous.”

  “Who?” Kiki asked.

  “She wouldn’t even tell me, that’s how big of a deal it is. However, since this whole partnership came up unexpectedly, we needed to have a meeting.”

  “And that’s why we’re meeting in an office instead of the shop?” Kiki asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, I’m down for whatever you need,” I said.

  “Walking in heels without killing yourself would be nice,” Marla said, chuckling.

  “I’ll be fine.” I said the words, but I hated walking in heels. I could do it, but my feet were always killing me by the end of the night and I was obviously out of practice if my fall in the elevator was any indication.

  “What will this mean going forward?” Kiki asked. “Do we work for you or for Priscilla?”

  “Technically, you work for me and will still get paid by me, but we’re going to be merging a lot of our business in the coming months. We’ve both been growing exponentially, her more than me, obviously, and we both need more help. By partnering up, we’ll each get our own jobs, but have the other’s staff to draw on when needed. That way, the staffing is seamless and everyone is familiar with each other’s process. Priscilla has higher-end clients than I do, which means we have to be on top of everything. No mistakes.”

  She glanced around the room. “That means no flirting with guests, Kiki.”

  Kiki chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “No sneaking bites of food,” Marla said to a guy named Ricky.

  “I get hungry,” he protested.

  “Ricky.”

  “I’m kidding. I’m good.”

  “Okay, so the reason for the heels is a casual but sophisticated get-together on Saturday night and I want to make sure you’re comfortable walking in them while carrying trays of food and drinks. Normally, we don’t wear heels but for this event you’re going to wear short black skirts—or slacks for the gentlemen—black stockings, black heels, and your normal long-sleeve, white, button-down blouse. There will be a buffet, but you’ll be walking around with appetizers and glasses of champagne.”

  Great. Today was turning out to be the Monday-est Wednesday ever.

  “I’m down.” Kiki grinned. “You gonna live, Bri?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I muttered. “Just need to go buy a new pair before Saturday because my heel broke when it caught on the carpet.”

  Marla grimaced. “They don’t have to be high,” she said. “But cute and sexy. No frumpy wedge heels.”

  “I love wedge heels,” I protested.

  “As do I, but not for this client and this event.”

  “I’m ba-ack!” Gordie came in with a tray of drinks and we all pounced.

  “Nectar of the gods,” I murmured, taking the first sip. “I might even be able to walk in heels after this.”

  2

  Bash

  * * *

  We’d been having a lot of band meetings lately. It seemed like every time I turned around, there was something to talk about. Though the music was on point and we were gaining momentum, we were currently having some growing pains. After being on tour with Onyx Knight from September until the end of April, we suddenly found ourselves back home in Las Vegas with no concrete plans. The problem was that our first album had sold okay but not the way we wanted it to, and now we had a lot of decisions to make.

  I was probably in a bad mood after this morning’s root canal, because all I’d really wanted to do when I went home to change clothes was take a nap, but duty called and this meeting wasn’t optional. The owner of our record label, Casey Hart, was in town for just a few days and she was going to help us figure out what to do next. We usually met via video chat now that she lived in Europe, but she’d had things to take care of here in Las Vegas and it was the perfect opportunity to meet.

  I headed over to her recording studio after I changed even though I’d be a little early, because I needed to talk to her before everyone else got there. We settled in her old office, closing the double doors behind us, and she sank into her chair.

  “Damn, sometimes I miss sitting here,” she said with a faint smile.

  I sat in the chair across from her and looked around for a moment, taking in the familiar surroundings. I’d recorded a lot of music in this studio and the plan was to do more this summer. The problem was whether or not I wanted to and how to explain that to Casey after all she’d done for us.

  “So, what’s on your mind?” Her eyes twinkled, as though she already knew what I was going to say. She hadn’t changed much since marrying European royalty and it was one of the many things I loved about Casey. She was a freakin’ queen now, but she never stood on ceremony unless she absolutely had to, and she’d threatened to castrate all of us if we ever used her formal title in private.

  “I’m struggling,” I admitted, leaning back in the chair.

  “With which part? The band, the music, or something else?”

  “Definitely the something else part.” I smiled. “The music is fantastic, the guys—and Lexi—are like family now, it’s just…” It was difficult to articulate what I was feel
ing.

  “What? You miss the good old days?” Her blue eyes met mine. “You miss being at the top and hate having to start over?”

  I grinned sheepishly. She really did know me too well. “Am I an asshole?”

  “God, no. The only reason Tyler isn’t struggling is because of Ariel. Before he met her, he was feeling the same way.” Ariel was my bass player’s wife.

  “I already paid my dues,” I muttered. “Starting over is…hard as fuck.”

  “I know. But you only have a few choices. Work for it and get back to the top the hard way, go solo, or walk away and retire. Are you ready to retire at thirty-two?”

  I hesitated but finally shook my head. “No. That’s ridiculous. I can afford to, but I’d go insane with nothing to do.”

  “Get married, have a family…that’s what lots of people do at your age.”

  “But there isn’t anyone special in my life right now, and retiring doesn’t mean I’m going to automatically meet her.”

  “Right.” She gazed at me patiently. “So, what do you want to do? If you want to bail, the time would be now, because I’m putting a lot of time and energy into this band, and I need to know you’re all in. Unless you have another project in mind.”

  “Nah. That’s probably my least favorite option.”

  “Retirement, then?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” I sighed. “I just want something to happen. It’s been two years now. Playing clubs and opening for someone else has been a pain in the ass, and don’t get me started on the whole tour bus thing.”