Текст книги "Cardinal"
Автор книги: Sara Mack
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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
“Just make yourself comfortable; we have plenty of room,” she gushes. “Boys. Ariel will be joining us for our drive. Please try not to be rude.”
My eyes widen as I see Ariel standing behind Rox. She’s hanging on to a small rolling suitcase with one hand and a large Coach purse, more like a duffle, with the other.
“There’s no need to lecture the guys,” Ariel says. “They know me and I know all of them. We’re like family.”
Dean leans forward in his seat. “What’s going on? Is everything all right?”
Ariel rolls her eyes. “Just some dancer drama that I don’t care to be a part of.”
“Then kick them the fuck off your bus,” Paul says with a wave of his beer. “That’ll show ‘em. Not that I care you’re here.” He grins. “If we have to be family, we can we be distant cousins by marriage and share a bunk.”
Ariel laughs and Roxanne glares at Paul before turning to our guest with a forced smile. “Anyway,” she says, “we have three available beds. Two next to Jen and I, and one next to dipshit over there.” She jerks her thumb in Paul’s direction. “Take your pick.”
“Thank you so much,” Ariel says as she starts to follow Rox toward me. “I couldn’t take the bitching anymore. My moods haven’t been the best lately. If I stay, it will only make things worse.”
Roxanne nods with empathy. When the two of them make it to me, Ariel smiles. “Hello again. I hope you don’t mind me crashing your party.”
I shake my head. “Not at all. It’s your tour.”
Ariel selects the bottom bunk directly behind mine. She lifts her suitcase on to the bed and then peeks around the corner. “I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk. You know, get to know one another.”
I can’t stop my confused look. “Why?”
“Jen!” Roxanne scolds me. “If the headliner wants to speak to you –”
“Rox.” Ariel puts her hand on our manager’s arm. “It’s random that I’d want to talk to her. Think about it. She’s dating my ex.”
Roxanne goes silent, then focuses on me. “I’m going to get comfortable, head to the back of the bus, and get lost in a book. Behave.”
She turns on her heel and I look at Ariel. Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth to suppress a laugh, and I do the same. She starts to unpack, and I turn back to my guitar.
Time passes and Beau gets the bus underway. An idea for a new song popped into my head tonight before the show, so I mess around with notes and lyrics. Everything is gibberish right now, but that’s how my songwriting usually starts. After a half hour or so of playing around, Ariel appears by my side. “Is this a bad time?”
My eyes swing to her. She’s changed clothes, and her dark hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head. With her hair off her face her features look exotic, something I hadn’t noticed before. “No,” I say and move back a little. “What’s up?”
She crawls on to my bunk and faces me, crossing her legs. “Nothing really. Just lonely and bored.” She glances around and her eyes land on Oliver’s drawing taped to the wall. She smiles. “I bet I know who made this.”
I’m about to confirm her thoughts when my phone vibrates. “One sec,” I say and pick it up. It’s a text message from Pete: Hey, rock-n-roll queen. Where are you?
I smile. On a bus in the middle of nowhere. Where are you?
Home in bed. I should be asleep, but I’m not. I’m worried out of my mind.
I frown and respond Why? Is everything okay?
Three little dots appear on my phone, indicating he’s typing back. It must be a long message because the dots linger. I hope nothing is wrong with Jules or our family, although my parents would’ve called. Great. Now I’m starting to worry, too.
“Who are you talking to?”
I look at Ariel. “My brother. He’s being vague and annoying.”
“Older or younger?”
“Older.”
Finally his message comes through. Everything is fine. I’m awake because I have an expensive diamond ring sitting in my dresser drawer and NO IDEA HOW TO PROPOSE.
“Is that all?!” My voice is loud. You idiot! I send. You scared me.
Ariel cocks an eyebrow. “Is something the matter?”
I sigh. “My brother needs help coming up with a way to propose to his girlfriend. They got married in secret and now he’s backtracking. I told him I would think of some ideas for him, but I’ve fallen down on the job.”
Ariel shrugs like it’s no big deal. “That’s easy. Have him do it at a show. Call them up on stage and have him surprise her. She’ll love it.”
My mouth falls open. It’s so simple it’s stupid. “How did I not think of that? Thanks!” I start rapidly typing while Pete responds to my idiot comment.
Calm your buns, I send. Ariel Allyn is sitting across from me and she says you can do it on stage.
He replies. Are you serious???
Yes. You should do it in Detroit, since mom and dad will be there. I grin. It’s perfect.
You said Jules deserved epic and this definitely qualifies. Thank you Jen. Now I can sleep.
I make a face. Because that’s what’s important, dork. I’ll get back to you with the details.
No, seriously. Thank you.
You’re welcome. I set my phone down.
“Everything good?” Ariel asks.
“Yes. I’ll work out the details with Dean later. I’ll tell him you said it was okay.”
She smiles. “I’m glad I could help.” Her eyes go back to Oliver’s picture. “His nephew drew this, right?”
I nod. “Oliver’s a cool little kid.”
“What is he now? Five years old?”
“Seven,” I say.
She shakes her head. “I can’t believe how much time has passed.” Her eyes land on my guitar. “So, what are you working on?”
“Not much. I’m just messing around.”
“I used to play, too, before I was told I could only sing.” She gets sarcastic. “It’s all about the image. I should demand some changes in my next contract.”
I’m surprised. I was under the impression she could do whatever she wants. “Do you still practice?”
“Not much anymore.” She tips her head. “I’ve been watching you play. You’re good.”
My cheeks flush. That’s not unusual or anything. “Um … thanks.”
Ariel smiles, then looks down and studies her cuticles. “Look, Jen. I’m going to be honest.” Her eyes meet mine again. “I don’t have many close friends, but I’d like you to be one. When I talked to Latson, he said you’re good people. I’m thinking of making some changes to my style. I’m sick of being a pop princess.”
What? “How can you be sick of success? I mean, if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.”
She pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. It’s getting old; I’m twenty-seven. I need to grow as an artist. Hell, I need to grow as a person.”
I’m silent. Does she think I can help?
Ariel sets her chin on her knees and continues. “I need a fresh perspective. I need to hang around someone normal. Someone who’s still grounded.”
I’m skeptical. “So, the dancer drama was a lie?”
“Oh no.” She turns serious. “It’s true. Some of those girls are straight up bat-shit crazy.”
I snicker as my mind flashes to Heidi. Some of the groupies are, too.
“Anyway, enough about me.” She lowers her legs and crosses them in front of her again. “Let’s talk about you. Let me hear something. Play an original Jen creation.”
Why not? It’s not every day a pop star asks to hear your work. The song I wrote in Chicago comes to mind, the one about the couple on the beach. “Okay,” I say. “This one’s called “Fairytale”. There might be a few changes, but it goes like this.” I straighten my back, clear my throat, and strum the strings to find my place:
“When the fairytale ends
When it all falls apart
Who will pick up the pieces
Of our shattered hearts?
It can’t be you
And it won’t be me
Because unlike a fairytale
We were never meant to be.”
I take my time and play the entire song, stopping only once when I get tripped up on the second verse. When I finish, Ariel has a glassy look in her eyes. She blinks to clear it and then quietly says, “Save that one for me.”
“What?” I don’t know what that means.
“I love it,” she says. “If anyone approaches you about that song, tell them it’s taken. Tell them you’re saving it for me.”
My eyes grow wide. “You would sing my song?”
She nods. “In a heartbeat. Show me what else you’ve got.”
Chapter Twenty Two
“You’ll never guess what the record company did for us.” I shut the bedroom door so I can talk to Latson in private. “They upgraded our hotel room to a penthouse. A penthouse! Can you believe it?”
“That was nice of them.” He sounds doubtful. “I thought the tour was only in Dallas for two nights.”
“We are. Tonight and tomorrow, then it’s off to Houston. But, we found out they upgraded us there, too.”
Obnoxiously loud music starts to play from the interconnected penthouse living and dining rooms. Looks like our guests have arrived.
“What is that?” Latson asks.
“The party just started.” I roll my eyes. “Dean and the guys got excited about the space, so they invited everyone to our room tonight.” To be honest I’d rather curl up in the magnificent bed that’s calling my name. “Did you know penthouses can have six bathrooms? And three bedrooms? I still have to share with Roxanne, but whatever. At least the guys get to spread out.”
“I’m not worried about the guys,” Latson mutters.
I won’t let that comment slide. “What’s wrong?” I sink down on to the bed and pull one leg beneath me. “You know, when I found out we’d been upgraded, I thought you did it. I thought maybe you would be waiting to surprise me.”
He doesn’t respond so I add, “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” he says. “I’m working on next month’s schedule for Torque and booking the entertainment. Once everything is confirmed you’ll probably see me.”
“Probably?”
“You’ll definitely see me.”
Suddenly, the bedroom door flies open. Ariel shuts it behind her in a rush and leans against it. “There you are. I need your help.”
I’m confused and my face shows it. Latson asks, “Is someone there?”
“Just Ariel,” I say. Leaning away from the phone I ask, “What’s up?”
She makes a zipper motion across her lips and gestures for me to end the call.
“Uh … I gotta go,” I stutter.
“Why?” Latson asks.
Ariel hurries past me and toward the bathroom. “I’m not sure,” I whisper. “Ariel probably wants to talk.” I told him about last night’s conversation on the bus. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay?” Now that we’re in the same time zone it makes things a little easier.
“Okay,” he says, uncertain. “But, Jen …”
“Hmm?”
“Be careful. I don’t like knowing there’s a bunch of strangers hanging out in your room. Penthouse or no penthouse.”
“Yes, boss,” I say playfully. “Sweet dreams.”
“Only if they’re of you.”
I end the call and walk over to stand in the bathroom doorway. Ariel is leaning against the counter, fidgeting. “Are you all right?”
She shakes her head no, then lifts her shirt. A box is tucked into the waistline of her pants. She pulls it out and shows it to me. “I can’t do this by myself.”
My eyes consume my face. It’s a pregnancy test. “Are you sure?”
“Of course not.” Her expression twists. “That’s kinda the point of taking the test.”
I step toward her. “What I meant was, it’s a possibility?”
She scowls at the box in her hands. “Unfortunately, yes. For the record, Zach, one of my dancers, is not gay.”
I close my eyes for a second and then reopen them. “You had unprotected sex because you thought the guy was gay?”
“No! I didn’t think we’d end up sleeping together because I thought he was gay!”
She’s flustered, so I walk further into the bathroom and shut the door. “Are you late?”
“Ten days.” She bites her bottom lip. “I’ve also felt off. Emotional and exhausted.”
“You could just be stressed,” I say. “Traveling and performing aren’t easy.” I reach for the box and she hands it over. I read the directions. “You have to pee on the stick and wait three minutes. It doesn’t sound complicated.”
“No,” she says. “The complicated part comes after.”
I give her a resigned smile, and she takes a deep breath. “Okay. Let me do this and then I’ll need you to hold my hand.”
I give her the test. “Good luck.”
Her face falls. “Thanks.”
I leave the bathroom and head to the bed to wait. I can’t believe Ariel might be pregnant. I also can’t believe she feels close enough to share this with me. There’s no way she can jump around on stage and fit into a cat suit with a belly. My mind recalls our conversation from last night; this is probably what she meant when she said she needed to grow as a person. She could potentially be a mother.
Ariel looks pale when she opens the door. “Three minutes?”
I grab my phone. “I’m setting the timer now.”
She makes her way over to me and sits down. “Thank you. I had to tell someone. It was killing me.” I offer her my hand and she takes it. “I couldn’t say anything to my team. Not yet. If I’m …” She hesitates to say the word and sighs. “Changes will have to be made.”
We sit in silence as the music from the party pumps through the walls. I glance at my phone as the timer ticks down slowly. My stomach starts to knot for her and for us. Dean’s put so much stock into playing; he’ll be crushed if he has to cut things short.
Squeezing her hand, I ask, “How does that work?”
“What?”
“The changes.”
She frowns. “There’s a clause in my contract about medical conditions. Shows can be delayed or postponed, or, in the worst case, canceled.” Her shoulders sag. “I’d hate to do that to the fans. Or the crew. People depend on getting paid for this tour.”
I never realized that such a huge responsibility was placed on a headlining act. “So, you’ll keep it?” I ask. “Not that it’s any of my business.”
“I kind of made it your business.” Ariel looks down at her lap. “I don’t know. It’s easy to think you’ll do something a certain way until you’re confronted with it.” Her eyes meet mine. “What would you do?”
“Me?” I haven’t put much thought into it because I’m always careful. “I guess it would depend on my situation. If I could financially support a baby, and if the father wanted to be involved, for example.”
She gives me a tiny smile. “Well, if you slip up with Gunnar, you know you’re covered. He’s been dedicated to his nephew since the day Oliver was born. It’s part of why we broke up.”
I never questioned their reasons. “Really?”
“Call me selfish, but I didn’t feel like I could compete after he won custody and moved away. He was wrapped up in starting a new life, and I couldn’t give him the time or attention he deserved. We agreed it would be best to call it quits.”
At least she admits she was partly to blame.
Ariel leans over to check the remaining time on my phone. “Who would have thought one drunk night would lead to this?” She pauses. “Never mind. That was a stupid question. The probability is actually quite high.”
Before I can agree with her, the timer goes off. We look at each other and she lets go of my hand. “Here goes nothing.”
She straightens her spine as she walks away, and I stand in anticipation. When she disappears through the bathroom door, I start to pace. I feel bad for her. She made a bad decision, yes, but so did Zach. I silently wonder if he’s going to be supportive, or if he’s going to ditch her like Levi did Audrey.
When Ariel doesn’t reappear after a minute, I go find her. It doesn’t take that long to read one pink line or two. Peeking around the corner, I can tell by her expression what the outcome is without asking.
“Congratulations,” I whisper.
She gives me a sad smile before a tear rolls down her cheek.
~~~~
All I want is a bottle of water, I think as I weave my way around bodies. It’s been almost an hour since Ariel learned she was expecting and left the party. She said she was going to find Zach and break the news, so I decided to find the guys and make sure they were living it up. Little do they know all of this could come to an abrupt end, depending on how Ariel feels and what she decides to do.
“Excuse me. Pardon me. Sorry,” I say as I finally make it to the wet bar. Some random guy is behind it, having dubbed himself honorary bartender. “Can I get a bottle of water please?”
“One water comin’ up,” he says and flips a bottle behind his back and over his shoulder. He catches it and presents it to me.
“Thanks,” I say.
“Aww. Look, girls. The bitch is trying to come off as Snow White.”
My body tenses at the sound of Heidi’s voice. Slowly, I turn around and find her standing with her friends. “Well. If it isn’t the old hag here to hand out more poison.”
Her narrowed eyes bounce between me and the water. “Do you think you’re above us?”
“No. I think I’m thirsty.”
“Thirsty for Dean, maybe,” one of her lackeys snipes.
Is she serious? “Oh, honey,” I take a step toward her, “I wouldn’t go there if I were you. Heidi knows there’s only one man I’m thirsty for. Right, Heids?”
She doesn’t like my cutesy nickname, and she crosses her arms. “Then how come we just saw you come out of Dean’s room?”
My forehead pinches. Is she high? I look over my shoulder, in the direction I just came from. “Do you mean back there?” I point. “That’s my room. Get your facts straight, sweetheart.”
I refuse to interact with stupid, so I leave. I swear Heidi has nothing better to do than make assumptions about me. She should take a hint from Mean Girls and back the hell off. She could get hit by a bus.
A tour bus, to be exact.
Spying the sliding glass doors, I decide to make my way to the balcony for some fresh air. Just as I squeeze past the last few people in my way, I hear, “Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” A hand grazes my elbow, and I turn to see a certain record executive smiling at me.
“Caleb? What are you doing here?”
He ushers me to the side, then leans against the wall. “I’m keeping an eye on my interests. How have you been?”
I can’t help my skeptical look. “Things are good.” What else can I say?
“Do you like the penthouse?”
I glance around. “It’s nice. I’d enjoy it more without all these people, though.”
He laughs. “Well, at least you have tomorrow and Houston.”
“How do you know about Houston?”
He gives me a self-deprecating smile and my eyes widen. “You upgraded us?”
“Guilty.”
Well, that was generous.
“Listen, Jen.” Caleb shifts his weight. “I don’t know what Gunnar’s told you, but I want to make sure we’re okay. I don’t want any bad feelings between you and me. You’re a crucial piece of Dean’s band.”
I’m confused. “And?”
“And he could be part of the Snare Records family again. I want him to be comfortable in making that choice.”
He can’t be serious. “Do you think I’m bad mouthing you to Dean?”
He puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “I’d like to think you’re not.”
I shake my head to clear it. I refuse to get involved in anything political. “You’re overestimating my part in this. Yes, Latson’s told me about your past, but I haven’t brought it up to Dean. Why would I? You cut him off back then just like you did Latson. He doesn’t need me to remind him.”
“Precisely.” Caleb pushes his body away from the wall. “I think he’s moved on, and I’d like it to stay that way. The past needs to stay in the past. If you talk to Gunnar, tell him –”
His thoughts are cut short when Dean approaches. “Hey, man. How’s it going?” He gives Dean a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Great show tonight, as always.”
Dean grins. “I didn’t know you were there. Can I get you something to drink? A beer?” He notices me. “Jen! Do you need anything?”
I notice the glaze in Dean’s eyes. He’s well on his way to having too much. “Nope. I’m good. Maybe you should put that bottle down and pick up one of these.” I hold up my water. “You don’t need a nasty hangover.”
“You’re probably right.” Dean runs his hand through his hair. “It’s good to have a voice of reason around. Don’t you think, Caleb?”
Caleb looks at me. “As long as the voice can be trusted.”
I have to stop my mouth from falling open. He wants to talk about trust? Please.
“Deeeean.”
Oh, for the love of God.
My eyes meet the ceiling as Heidi whines Dean’s name. She walks up behind him and hangs on his arm. “Can I borrow your cell? I left mine in my room by accident.”
“Sure,” he says and pulls it from his pocket. “Take your time.”
She slides it from his hand with a sly smile. “Thanks.” She gives him a quick peck on the cheek, and I inwardly cringe. I’m going to have to speak to this boy when he’s sober about the company he keeps.
Dean and Caleb start to talk about tonight’s show, so I take the opportunity to disappear. I step around them and head to my original destination: the balcony. I find a spot between some people and lean against the railing to stare out over the city. A smile forms on my lips as I remember sitting on the fire escape and doing the same thing with Latson. I don’t know which direction I’m facing right now, but I pretend it’s east. I telepathically send my thoughts to him, letting him know I miss him and things are getting complicated here.
I take my time and finish my water before heading back inside. The party is going strong, but I don’t feel the need to socialize. Ariel’s secret has me feeling a little melancholy, so I decided to find out if my bedroom door has a lock. I don’t need Caleb finding me again, or, God forbid, Heidi. There’s nothing more I can say to either of them that hasn’t already been said.
When I reach my room and investigate the door handle, I smile when I see there is a lock. I twist it and shut the door; Roxanne will just have to knock when she wants in. I sit on the bed and lie back on the pillows; I would change my clothes but not while there’s a bunch of people here. Lock or no lock, no one needs to see me in my pj’s. My phone vibrates against the nightstand where I left it to charge, so I pick it up. Immediately, worry sets in. There are a ton of alerts – all from Latson. I click on the text messages first, even though there is voicemail, too.
We need to talk. Where are you?
I left you a message. Did you get it?
Answer the phone please.
Are you avoiding me? Call me as soon as you get this.
What is going on? Quickly, I go to my voicemail. Latson sounds pissed:
“Jen. I just talked to you. How could you not say anything? I had to find out from Dean? What the hell?”
Then, twenty minutes later: “Damn it!”
And then, seconds ago: “I’m sorry. I’m not mad. Just … call me.”
My stomach sinks as my head spins. I jump off the bed and leave the room, bent on finding Dean. What could he have told Latson to upset him? I make my way around bodies, even pushing a few out of the way so I can see. I spot Dean near the center of the room; he’s still talking to Caleb. I march in his direction, then grab his arm without saying a word and pull him to the side.
“What the –?” He frowns. “What’s the matter?”
“What did you tell Latson?”
He looks confused. “I didn’t tell him anything. Why?”
“He’s pissed at me for something you said.” I let him listen to the message.
Dean looks legitimately confused and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I haven’t talked to him since early this morning.”
I look at my phone and tap Latson’s number, then hold my breath as it rings in my ear. He answers almost immediately.
“Jen.” He sounds defeated, even sad.
“Hey.” I wrap my free arm around my waist. “I just got your messages. My phone was charging. What’s wrong?”
He lets out an annoyed breath. “You’re still at the party? Really?”
Damn the music. “Yes. Why does it matter?”
“Because –” He stops talking and changes his tone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
He’s silent for a moment before he asks, “Are you really going to play this game? Why can’t you be honest with me?”
I’m so lost. I wish he’d just come out and say –
Dean taps me on the shoulder. When I turn around, he looks white as a ghost. He holds up his phone, so I can see the screen. It’s his text message thread with Latson, and the last thing sent is a picture. My breath catches when I realize what it is. It’s a picture of a positive pregnancy test followed by the words:
Look what I found in your girlfriend’s bathroom. Congrats, Dad.
