The California sun beat down on Alice Quinn’s platinum blonde bob, the heat reflecting off the tinted glass of her new downtown office building.
After a month in Los Angeles, she was still adjusting to the relentless sunshine, the constant hum of traffic, and the sheer, overwhelming ambition that seemed to permeate the air. She was a shark in a pool of other sharks, and that, she realised, was exactly what she needed. At 49, with a divorce, no children and a meticulously crafted career under her belt,
Alice arrived in LA with a single-minded purpose: to conquer. Back home in London, she’d been the go-to lawyer for complex financial cases, her record impeccable, save for two deeply frustrating losses she’d long since analysed to death.
Her life had been a controlled, methodical march to the top. Now, she was in a new city, a blank canvas, ready to paint a masterpiece.
Tonight, however, the masterpiece could wait. A particularly gruelling day of depositions had frayed her nerves, and the thought of another lonely night in her sterile apartment was unbearable.
She decided on a change of scenery and found a dimly lit bar a few blocks from her office. The air inside was cool and smoky, a welcome relief from the desert heat. She ordered a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and found a quiet corner table.
That’s when she saw him.
He was leaning against the bar, a tall, wiry man with silver-streaked hair falling across his forehead. His eyes, a startling shade of blue, were fixed on something distant, lost in memory only he could see. There was a raw vulnerability in his posture that belied the sharp angles of his face, a face that Alice recognised instantly. Devlin Lawson was the lead singer of “Vail Confession,” the band that had ruled her teenage years with their power ballads and defiant anthems.
Devlin, she recalled, had vanished from the spotlight in the late 90s, swallowed by the excesses he’d sung about. She hadn’t thought of him in years, and now here he was, looking…older. He was 55 now, his once rebellious energy subdued, replaced with a weary grace.
As if sensing her gaze, Devlin turned his head. Their eyes met, and a jolt went through Alice, a strange mix of recognition and something akin to… intrigue. He nodded a small, almost shy gesture and then pushed himself off the bar, walking towards her table with a slow, deliberate gait.
“Do I know you?” His voice was rough around the edges, like gravel sliding on asphalt, but it hinted at the melodic quality she remembered from his songs.
Alice took a slow sip of her wine. “Alice Quinn. I was a fan back in the day.”
“Long time ago,” she echoed, “but your music still holds up.”
He chuckled a dry, humourless sound. “That’s kind of you to say. Most people would say it’s hopelessly outdated.”
They talked for hours that night, the initial tension slowly melting away with each shared laugh and sip of wine. Alice, the controlled lawyer, found herself drawn to his honesty, the way he spoke about his past struggles with an almost painful openness. He didn’t shy away from his mistakes, the demons he’d battled, the wreckage of his once-glittering career. He talked about the loneliness, the yearning to create again, and the fear that he was too far gone to find his way back.
Alice listened, her legal mind filing away not facts but feelings, the raw, unguarded emotions that resonated with her quiet loneliness. She had always been so focused on her career, on building an impenetrable wall of success, that she had neglected the other parts of her life. In Devlin’s vulnerability, she glimpsed her own.
By the time the bar closed, a strange connection had formed between them, a fragile understanding born of shared histories and a mutual yearning for something more. As they stood outside, the Los Angeles night air cool against their skin, Devlin looked at her, his blue eyes searching.
“So, Alice Quinn,” he said, his voice softer now, “will you allow this has-been to buy you another drink…somewhere else?”
Alice smiled a genuine, unforced smile that reached her eyes. “I think I might just take you up on that, Devlin Lawson.”
As they walked away, side by side, towards an uncertain future, it was a chance meeting about to change both their lives. Devlin wanted to get his band back together and create great songs again. Alice knew that her life in Los Angeles was about to take a turn she could never have predicted, which might just be exactly what she needed.
Thank You For Reading
Deborah C. Langley
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