Текст книги "My Kind of Forever"

Автор книги: Heidi McLaughlin

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“Thank you for being here today,” says the short brunette who is standing at the podium next to our table. Besides the band and Layla, four other guys are sitting at the table with us. I don’t have a clue as to who they are, but they must be important to Trixie since they’re here and willing to help her.

“If you didn’t sign in with your seat number, please let me know.” She holds up a clipboard, but there are no takers. “My name is Wendy and I’ll be your moderator today. To keep things orderly, please raise your hand and I’ll call out your seat number.”

Burke appears with glasses and pitchers of water. “What about the vodka?” I ask, but get no reply. I lean into Layla and ask her if she’s ready for this. When I hear shutters clicking, I know I’ve made a grave mistake. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, only to feel her hand on my knee. Thank God for tablecloths or I’d be more screwed than I already am.

“Before we start, I’d like to introduce you to the panel. First we have Adam, Lem, Chett and Dex from Wild Nobility.” Wendy, helpfully, sheds light as to who the other four musicians are before introducing Layla and then us to the waiting crowd. “Okay, now that the formalities are out of the way, let’s begin,” Wendy says to the delight of the audience. Hands fly up into the air and I use this opportunity to fill my water glass and drink it down before I have to answer any questions.

“Number twenty-seven,” Wendy calls out.

“How do you find time to balance your personal and professional life?”

I look at Layla who is answering first. She smiles and leans into the microphone. “Being a songwriter, it’s easy for me to be a mom first. I write when the lyrics are in my head, but I don’t have to be in a certain location to do that. I always have my phone with me and can easily make notes on that if inspiration strikes.”

I take a deep breath and pull the microphone to me. “We work nine to five like everyone else, but with the flexibility of taking time off when needed for our kids.”

“We’re not just a band, but a family. Our family comes first,” Harrison adds.

“We’re far too busy to have personal lives,” Dex, one of the guys on the end answers. Someone should tell them that being in love and having kids will trump being in a band any day.

“Number four.”

“Do you ever give in to temptations, or find yourself battling them?”

“I got into some trouble early on in my career, but once I could get those under control, I’ve been okay. Right now, my only temptation is men.” Layla has the crowd eating out of her hand with her answers and the women laugh at her response. “It’s hard to keep my hands off a good looking man.”

“Since I moved out of LA a few years ago, I’ve been happy and living a great life. My only temptation is my wife.”

Harrison and JD answers are similar to mine while the guys from Wild Nobility talk about how they battle with urges every day. They might want to think about rehab.

Hands fly up in the air and Wendy says, “Number fifteen.”

“This question is for Liam and Layla. Liam, you had a very close relationship with Layla when you were starting out in the business. How does it feel to work with her again after all these years?”

“Layla and I didn’t work together so this will be our first time. We were just friends.”

“With benefits,” someone yells out.

I clear my throat and sit up a bit taller. “As I said, we were friends. Harrison and Layla had more of a working relationship.”

This is why I don’t do interviews, because people can’t just ask questions about music. They have to get personal. I take a drink of my water and fiddle with my bracelet.

“Number one.”

“How do you describe your perfect day?”

“The sun is shining, lyrics are flowing and my daughter is happy,” Layla answers and then I’m up next.

“My perfect day would be with my wife and son. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, as long as we’re together.”

“I’m the same as Liam. Being with my wife and kids makes every day perfect.”

“Ah, I’m happy when I’m with my Little One or when my missus is walking about starkers.”

“Jesus, JD,” I say, causing everyone to laugh.

“Number three.”

“What is the worst rumor you’ve heard about yourself?”

We all start to laugh because where do you even start?

“That I had died from a drug overdose on stage,” Layla says. I look at her and she shrugs. I hadn’t heard that one, although I really wasn’t paying attention all these years.

“Um… for me, I guess it would have to be…” The rumor I hate the most is the one I’m constantly emailed about: Are you cheating on your wife? I never answer them, which is probably code for: I am. Thing is, I can’t say that now because they’ll run with it and twist my words. I do what every musician is expected to do; I lie. “Mine would be the constant rumors about my many stints in rehab. I’ve never been in one, nor have I ever been addicted to drugs.”

“Are there any rumors about me?” Leave it to Harrison to be perfect.

“That I’m gay,” JD says.

“We all know that’s not true,” a female voice rings out.

“Damn right, love.”

At the other end of the table, Lem clears his throat. Apparently he’s ready to answer. “Our biggest rumor is that we don’t get along. It’s not true.”

I look down the table and can tell he’s lying. The other two band members haven’t said a thing during any of the questions, only Dex, who I’m assuming is their lead singer. He looks emo, and is probably a pill popping tweaker.

“Number eight.”

My favorite number.

“My question is for Liam and Layla. Have you read Calista Jones’ biography?”

My blood turns cold as I lean in. “That would be an unauthorized biography, and the answer is no.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t finished with my question,” Number eight says.

“That’s not my problem.” Number eight sighs, but doesn’t sit back down.

“Layla, will you and your daughter be visiting or moving to Beaumont now that it’s been revealed that Liam Page is her father?”

“Are you f –”

“Liam Page is not the father of my daughter. My daughter and her dad have a very good relationship. He’s very active in her life and always has been. This is the last time I’ll discuss this with anyone so I suggest each and every one of you print it clearly.”

I want to applaud Layla for standing up for me and to the reporters, but I’m so fucking pissed off I can’t see straight. My recovery time is nil as the next number is called.

“Number eleven.”

“What’s the best part about performing and recording music?”

Yet again, Lem starts speaking before Layla can and all four of us turn to stare at him. He clearly doesn’t care because he’s rattling off a diatribe about his life. By the time he’s finished, we’ve all forgotten the question.

“Number twenty-two.”

“Liam, how does your wife feel about you being here rekindling old friendships while she’s at home preparing for your new arrival?”

That question gets the reporters riled up and they start firing off questions right and left. It’s not a secret we’re adopting, but it isn’t exactly public knowledge either.

“My wife is fine. Our son is playing in some very important baseball games right now, so she stayed home with him,” I say, dodging the question about the new arrival.

“And the baby?”

“At the moment, my wife isn’t pregnant.” I leave it at that, hoping they get the hint.

I refill my water glass, wishing it was something stronger. I’m starting to get agitated and wonder if Moreno set this shit up on purpose to prove that we need someone like him. Yet again, I find myself suddenly missing Sam because if she were here, then it would be guaranteed a few of these questions wouldn’t be asked.

“Number six.”

“Liam, I’ve read the biography by Calista Jones and am wondering how it feels to have your lover’s personal diaries made public?”

“Fuck this shit,” I mumble under my breath. “Do you really want to know?”

All the reporters nod. Assholes.

“Anything you read from Sam Moreno should be taken with a grain of salt. She was mentally unstable and in need of psychiatric care. We took her and Moreno Entertainment to court for a restraining order, which Mr. Moreno is hell bent on breaking... repeatedly. This Calista Jones wrote a book without my authorization and if I could sue the shit out of her I would. Are you out there, Calista?”

To my surprise a woman stands up. “I am.”

“Perfect, do you have any other intrusive questions for me or are we done here?”

“I actually have one.” It’s Mr. Moreno who steps forward. “You just made a comment about my daughter, one that I find very offensive, to say the least. Are you honestly going to say that you weren’t in love with her?”

I slam my hands down on the table and stand up. “Never have I said I was in love with Sam. I don’t give a shit what she put in her diary. Even this long after her death, I’m still finding out about all of the dishonest things she’s done or said. She lied about being pregnant and she kept my son away from me, or was that you? Your daughter was sick, and when she didn’t get her way, she wreaked havoc on anyone in her path. If I was so in love with your daughter, I wouldn’t have tattooed another woman’s name across my chest for her to see every day.”

I pause and rest on my hands, catching my breath before looking back at the reporters. “I don’t think you understand the damage you can do to someone’s life. You take your fucking pictures and make up your shitty headlines just to cause problems. You use computer programs to manipulate images into something they’re not, and laugh your asses to the banks while lives and marriages are destroyed. You want to write that I’m a pig because I hugged a fucking friend who I hadn’t seen in ten years, and that I’m cheating on my wife… look in the fucking mirrors and ask yourself if you’re a decent human being. I’m here to tell you, you’re not.

“Do you want to know why we left LA? So we could raise our kids without the likes of you assholes looming around us. I’m so fucking done.”

I walk away and can hear footsteps behind me. As soon as I’m in the green room the lamp closest to the door is flying across the room, shattering into a million pieces. The door shuts, and when I look behind me it’s Harrison and JD.

“I’m sorry,” I say, running my hands over my face. “I lost it and you’ll be the ones to suffer in the end.” I wouldn’t be surprised if they ditch me for another band. I’m hotheaded and my temper sucks. Families should be off-limits, but they’re not, and mine is going to be paying dearly because of that fact.

“You were right to get up and leave,” Harrison says, as he sits down.

I shake my head and sigh. “I shouldn’t have said that shit about Sam, even if it is true.”

“She brings out the worst in ya, mate.”

“The thing is, she wasn’t always like that. I did that to her. All she wanted to do was love me and make me this big star, but I was so fucking hung up on my mistakes and my past that I refused to let her in. When I did, it was for sex because she was easy. I knew she wanted me and I led her on repeatedly.”

A knock on the door stops me from speaking. JD answers it, and Calista Jones is standing on the other side.

“Sorry darlin’, I’m pretty sure that anything you have to say is going to result in a no comment from us. Move along, now.” JD tries to shut the door but her hand stops it.

“I think you should listen to what I have to say.”

“Alright, we’re all ears. Say your peace, then be on your way,” JD instructs.

“I’d like to speak privately with Liam.”

“Nice try, but that ain’t gonna happen, love,” JD says, clearly in control of the room right now.

“Fine,” she says, straightening her suit jacket. “Mr. Page, I’ve done nothing wrong. The diaries were sent to me, along with a list of people I should contact about you. Your threat to sue me has not fallen on deaf ears but I must warn you... if you do pursue legal action, I’ll publish Sam’s diaries in full and I don’t think you want that.”

“Are you threatening me?” I ask, as I step forward.

“No more than you are threatening me. Let’s call it an impasse, shall we?”

She turns on her heels and leaves, closing the door behind her. My mouth hangs open and while I’m tempted to call bullshit, I know she’s not bluffing. Who knows what the fuck Sam said in her diaries? One thing I know for certain is that I don’t want to have to defend myself for the rest of my life. I’ve already had enough.

I dial his phone repeatedly. It rings eight times before going to voicemail. He’s either not near it, or just doesn’t want to answer it. At least I can take comfort in knowing that he isn’t declining my calls. Before I give up, I leave him a message telling him that I love him and that we need to talk as soon as possible. I know he’ll be able to hear the distress in my voice, and pray that his love for me is just as strong as mine is for him so that no matter what’s going on, he’ll be honest with me.

Bianca and Noah are sitting in the family room when I come out. Noah’s going to suspect that something is going on and I’ll have to get creative with my answers to his probing questions when he asks them. The fact is, I won’t know what’s going on until Liam calls.

The sound of my voice echoes from the television, causing Noah to laugh. “What on earth are you watching?”

“Your DVD’s,” Bianca says, handing me a cup of tea. “Sit down, he’ll call soon.”

I sort of love that she has so much confidence in her son right now because mine is lacking. She grew up this way, with the media always in her face about things. I can’t imagine what her parents’ divorce was like for her, knowing how things get twisted in the media.

“Thank you.” I hold up the mug, and she smiles before turning her attention back to the television. I sit down in the chair and watch Liam run across the screen. The announcer is screaming as he ticks down the yardage from this run. The kid Mr. Powell hired to film the games follows his every move until Liam enters the end zone.

“That’s going to be me someday,” Noah tells Bianca as he fast forwards through the other team’s offensive run. “I wear number eight just like my dad.”

“Why did you choose that number?” she asks him.

Noah shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve always liked it.”

Bianca beams at Noah and turns her attention back to the TV when he presses play. I’m on screen now, cheering for the team. Secretly, I was only cheering for Liam and Mason, but no one ever needs to know that.

“You were so pretty, Mom.”

“Gee thanks, Noah.”

“Your mom is beautiful, Noah. You should tell her so every day.” My mouth drops open at Bianca’s words. She doesn’t look at me as she speaks and, for that, I’m thankful. I turn my attention back to the TV and pretend the last few seconds never happened.

As soon as my phone starts ringing, I’m moving out of the room and upstairs to our bedroom. “Hello?”

“Hey, I got your message.”

His words give me pause. He sounds curt and disinterested.

“Are you busy?”

“Not at the moment,” he sighs, sending me into high alert.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, knowing something is bothering him.

“Same ole shit, just a different day.”

“Right.” I close the door to our room and sit down on our bed. This room is too big for one person and feels so empty without Liam here. I’m starting to hate it.

“Um…” I clear my throat. “Why do you want a divorce?” My voice is barely above a whisper and tears are streaming down my face as I ask the question.

He doesn’t say anything, but I can hear rustling around in the background. Is he with her now?

“Li –”

“Josie, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“This guy called and asked if I could confirm that you filed for divorce.”

“And what did you say?”

“What does it matter? Answer the question, Liam. Do you want a divorce?”

“Goddamn it, Jojo. Why the fuck would I want a divorce? Do you really think I’d go to some slime ball fucking reporter to tell them before I talked to you first? Is that what you think of me?”

“No, but the pictures I saw…”

Whatever Liam was doing, he’s now still. There’s nothing but static air between us.

“Liam?”

“What?”

“Do you love her?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He yells into the phone. “How many times I have I told you never to read those shitty ass columns?”

“That doesn’t discount the fact that you kissed her!” I fire back.

“I DIDN’T FUCKING KISS HER!” He’s yelling something in the background that I can’t understand. “For fuck’s sake, I gave her a hug. She jumped into my arms when I opened the door and those sorry excuses for humans took a bunch of pictures. Those bastards did everything they could to change the images around. It was a hug.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I knew I should’ve, but it’s sort of hard to explain over the phone and I kind of counted on you not looking at the tabloids. Every excuse I have is stupid. But Jojo, you need to listen to me... and listen good... I love you. I am one hundred percent committed to you. I’m committed to our family. You’re the only woman I think about, baby. I don’t like doing this shit over the phone, Josie, and I really hate that you’ve been crying.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Good, you should be. If you can’t trust me, how are we going to survive? All they’re doing is testing you, trying to make you break. I promise you, if at any time I’m not happy, I’ll tell you, just as I expect you to do the same for me.”

“I’m so scared I’m going to lose you,” I tell him through sobs.

“The only way I’m leaving is if you’re telling me to.”

He knows that will never happen, unless he does something stupid and I’m left with no choice. Before we hang up, he tells me that he loves me and that he plans to video chat after Noah goes to bed because he’s all worked up and needs to see my boobs. I can’t help but laugh.

I startle awake and drop my phone onto my face. I must’ve fallen asleep after Liam and I hung up earlier. I hit the home button to see if I’ve missed any calls. I missed one, but not from Liam. Aubrey called. I press her name and wait for the call to connect.

“Josie, thanks for calling me back.”

“Of course.”

I leave our bedroom and walk down the stairs. I’m not sure how long I was out for, but it’s dark out and I can faintly hear the TV.

“I spoke with Meredith earlier and… Oh, Josie, there’s no easy way to say this... but she’s decided to keep the baby herself.”

I stop dead in my tracks and squeeze the phone even tighter. “What?”

Aubrey covers the phone, talking to whoever else is in the room. It’s likely Nick, and I hope she’s not sharing this news with him, although the chances are she’s already told him.

“The boyfriend, he’s back and wants to marry her. I had to give her all the options and encouraged her to make the right choice for the baby. I told her that a new marriage could be hard with a newborn, but she’s adamant and came by the office today to withdraw her consent for adoption.”

“Oh…”

“I have others that will be suitable –”

“No, Aubrey. It’s okay. Liam’s not home and I… its okay, Aubrey. Thanks for calling.” I hang up and sit on the steps. There are no tears left to shed and after the day I’ve had, I’m completely numb.

Bianca appears in the bottom of the steps, she peers around the corner. I can’t tell if she’s gauging my reaction to her standing there or not. I try and smile, letting her know its okay to come and talk. If she’s here putting in an effort, I will also. “Are you okay?”

“That was Aubrey, which means Nick is on his way over.” I take a deep breath. “The baby Liam and I were adopting… his mother has decided to keep him.” I shake my head, and watch as a tear falls from her eye.

“I’m so sorry, Josie.”

“Me too.”

“But hey, Noah still gets a sibling because Nick and Aubrey are having a baby.” I shrug as if it’s no big deal. I’m effectively the most defective mother on the planet. Can’t conceive and can’t adopt.

The doorbell rings and Noah is running through the house to answer it before Bianca and I can even move.

“Nick!”

“Noah!”

They exchange high-fives, and Noah offers me one as he flies by me, heading up the stairs. I’m getting the impression that Nick has asked Noah to spend the night, and while I should balk, right now he knows I’m not going to.

Their enthusiasm makes me want to hurl. I know he means well, but his happy attitude is not welcomed in my house right now. We make eye contact when he closes the door. His mega-watt smile drops when he sees Bianca. I know what he’s thinking, and he has every right to.

“Bianca, this is Nick. Nick, Bianca. I don’t think you guys have officially met.”

Bianca steps forward and holds out her hand. Nick does the same. The handshake is quick and very cordial.

“My grandson speaks very highly of you, and I must say that I’m very appreciative that you stepped up when my husband and I didn’t. Thank you.”

I think both my mouth and Nicks are matching as they hang open in shock.

“It was my pleasure. Noah’s a great kid.”

Noah the Great is bounding down the stairs, sounding like a herd of elephants. He kisses me on the cheek and plants one on Bianca too, much to her surprise.

“Where are you going?” I ask with a fake attitude.

“Nick asked me to spend the night. It’s cool, right?”

I nod. Even though I want to sleep with Noah in my arms tonight, he’d be better off with Nick and Aubrey.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Nick tells Noah, who dashes out the door without even a second glance.

“Aubrey and I would like to take him for a few days, give you a chance to go see Liam.”

I shake my head. “I won’t miss his game.”

“You won’t have to. There’s been some field damage, so the game is pushed back a week.”

“You should go, Josie,” Bianca pipes up. I scowl at her, letting her know it’s not okay to be on Team Nick right now.

“Aubrey will even fill in at the café.”

“I can’t. I already told Jenna she could have some time off.”

Nick comes over and stands in front of me. He cups my cheeks, just like he used to do when we dated. “Josie, it pains me to say this, but you need to go see Liam. You need to grieve with him and not bottle it up. I know you, and sadly he’s the same way. Talk to him.”

He kisses me on the forehead and tells Bianca it was nice to meet her. As soon as the door shuts, she’s sitting on the step below me. She’s been here for hours and she doesn’t have a hair out of place or one wrinkle in her clothes.

“When Sterling refused to let me leave, I stopped communicating. I wasn’t a good example for my son and know that he struggled with how to express himself. Please don’t make the same mistakes I did. Go to California and be with him.”

The thought of being in his arms as early as tomorrow is very appealing, but the thought of showing up with bad news isn’t. We just had a major fight, and as much as I want to be with him, seeing him there isn’t my idea of a good time. I’ll have to compete with everyone for his attention and that would be a first for me. I’m not sure I could handle it.

“I’ll think about it.”

Bianca stands and straightens out her skirt. “Thank you for tonight, Josie. It really means a lot to me, and I know I don’t deserve your hospitality.”

“Bianca?” I say her name, just as she reaches the door. “Does he hit you?”

“No,” she shakes her head, but her eyes are looking down at the ground.

“Did he use to?”

She takes her hand off the doorknob and clasps her hands in front her, much like she was earlier today. When she doesn’t answer, I prod again. “Did he ever hit Liam?” I want to say that Liam would’ve told me, but I can see him keeping this locked inside.

“No, Sterling is a lot of things, but physically abusive isn’t one of them. He’s mean, condescending and some will call him a bully.”

“Do you love him?”

She shakes her head no. “I haven’t since before Liam was born.”

“So, why stay? Why not reach out to your to mom and ask her for help? Don’t you think she would’ve helped you?” I stand and go to her. Her eyes glisten with fresh tears.

“My mother died when Liam was about three years old.”

I take a step back and shake my head.

“What?” she asks.

“Your mother died sometime after Liam moved to California. She’s the reason he went.”

Bianca covers her mouth and lets her tears fall. When I go to her, she puts her hand up, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I must go.”

Before I can ask her to stay, she’s out the door and down my driveway, ignoring my calls to her.

“Son of a bitch,” I say as I slam my door. I need a stiff drink... or ten. I also need to tell Liam how screwed up his father is – maybe he’ll know why Sterling would lie about Betty being dead.