Текст книги "Cardinal"

Автор книги: Sara Mack

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter Twenty Three

“Heidi,” Dean and I say in unison.

“What?” Latson’s voice sounds in my ear.

I open my mouth to explain as Dean says, “I’m on it.” His eyes flash before he turns and walks away.

“Jen?  Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here.” I start to make my way back to my bedroom. “Let me get out of this noise.” I weave my way around bodies, and then shut the door behind me. “It’s not what you think,” I say when I’m alone. “I saw Dean’s phone. He didn’t send you that text.”

“Then who did?”

I get sarcastic. “The one and only Heidi.” God, that woman is a bitch. Not only did she invade my personal space, she involved Dean.

“Are you telling me there isn’t a pregnancy test in your bathroom?” Latson sounds like he doesn’t believe me.

“No, there is.” I start walking in that direction. “But it’s not mine.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “What is going on?”

I flip the light switch and see the test on the counter, next to the sink where Ariel left it. I don’t feel right sharing her situation, but, then again, Latson knows she came to see me earlier. “Remember the last time we talked?  Who interrupted us?”

“Ariel. So?”

“So?” I frown into the phone. “Put two and two together. The test isn’t mine. I’m not pregnant.”

Latson’s silent, so I decide to elaborate. “Heidi and I … we got into it tonight. She must have snooped around my room. I was with Dean and Caleb when she asked to borrow Dean’s phone. I should have known she was up to something by the look on her face.” I pause, thinking about it. “I’m sure she thinks she caught me hiding a secret.” Well, I am hiding a secret. Just not my own.

Latson still doesn’t say anything, and I start to feel uneasy. I wait a second or two before asking, “You believe me, right?  You know there’s no way the test is mine. We’ve been safe every time.”

He finally responds. “Sometimes things fail.”

His tone makes me wonder if he wants me to be pregnant. “Are you disappointed?”

“Yes.”

My mouth falls open. “What?”

“Why were you with Caleb?” He clips his words. “Why is he there?”

So that’s what he’s disappointed about. “I wasn’t with him,” I explain. “I had no idea he was here until he pulled me aside and asked me not to bring up the past to Dean. He’s worried you’re filling my head and I’m sharing the details. I told him you weren’t and I wasn’t.”

“I don’t like him talking to you,” Latson says. “I don’t want him anywhere near you.”

I want to tell him I can hold my own, but instead I say, “I’ll try to avoid him, but I never know when he’s going to be around. He seems determined to sign Dean.”

“I’m sure he is,” Latson snaps.

I wonder why Caleb wants Dean so badly, but I don’t ask. Latson’s agitated enough for one night. I wish he were here, so we could get lost in each other and forget the outside world.

“I’ll make sure Heidi’s taken care of,” Latson interrupts my thoughts. “I meant what I said before. I can get her kicked off the tour, and I will. There’s no reason for her to mess with you like this.”

“I think Dean may have beat you to it,” I say. “He went to find her.” I’m quiet before I add, “She’s in love with you, you know. That’s why she acts the way she does. She wants you.”

Latson scoffs. “Her actions aren’t love. They’re infatuation and greed.”

I can imagine her reaction when she’s forced to go home. If she’s kicked off the tour, I’m sure she’ll pay Latson a visit. Or two. Or three. “Maybe it would be better if she stays here and far away from you,” I say.

“Do you think I’d let her get to me?”

“I don’t know,” I tease. “She was all over your lap the first time I met her.”

Latson doesn’t think I’m funny. “Seriously?  You’re going to throw that in my face when you’re surrounded by guys?”

Whoa. “I was kidding.”

“No, you weren’t. You’ve brought this up before, when you thought Heidi and I were dating.”

I get defensive. “What did you expect?  She was all over you.”

“What was I supposed to do?  Shove her on the floor?  I told you I was numb.  I didn’t care about anything back then, other than work and Oliver.”

My stomach starts to knot. How did we start fighting?  “I’m not doing this,” I say.

“Not doing what?”

“Fighting with you. Heidi sent that picture to start crap and it’s working.”

Latson sighs and I picture him rubbing the tension from the back of his neck.

“I shouldn’t have tried to joke about Heidi,” I say. “I just know how she is around you.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

Suddenly, there are three loud bangs on the bedroom door. I walk over and open it to find Dean. “Jen.” He walks toward me with sympathetic eyes. “I can’t find Heidi, but when I do her ass will be gone.” He wraps me in an unexpected hug. “I can’t believe she violated your privacy like that. I’m so sorry. How are you feeling?”

He sways a little, so I know he’s still buzzed. “I feel fine. Why?”

“Is that Dean?” Latson asks through the phone.

“Yes,” I respond.

“Because you’re pregnant.” Dean steps back and holds me at arm’s length. Then, he smiles. “I’m going to be an uncle again.”

Oh boy. “No,” I shake my head, “you’re not. The test isn’t mine. Heidi’s confused.”

Now Dean looks confused. “But …”

“Let me talk to him,” Latson says.

I hand Dean the phone. “Your brother would like to speak to you.”

While Dean talks to Latson, I plop down on the bed. How did this night get so out of control?  First Ariel, then Heidi. Now Latson and I are snapping at each other, and Dean thinks he’s going to get a new family member. I’ll take a do-over for $1,000 please, Alex.

“Well, yeah. I agree.” Dean paces back and forth. “Do you think I wouldn’t?  Yes, I promise. What?  That’s out of my control.” He stops walking. “What do you mean?  How’s she involved?” His eyes grow wide. “Oh.”

I tap my fingers against my leg and start to wonder how Ariel’s chat with Zach went. She hasn’t come back in tears, so I assume things are going okay.

“Yeah. I’ll call you later. Yes … yeah. Here’s Jen.” Dean hands the phone back to me with a scowl. “I need another drink.”

He really doesn’t, but I don’t say anything. As he leaves I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“I wish I were there,” Latson says, his voice more relaxed.

“Me, too.”

“Heidi should be gone soon. You won’t have to worry about her anymore.”

“I’m not worried now. As long as you know everything she says is a lie, I don’t care what she tries to pull.”

“You shouldn’t have to care about her at all.”

I hear something shut. “What are you doing?”

“Checking on O. He’s been faking sleep for Shark Week. I’ve caught him watching recorded episodes twice already. Both times it was after two a.m.”

“It’s summer.” My expression softens. “You should let him watch the sharks.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to deal with his grumpy butt the next morning.”

I look at the clock. I wonder if there are any shark shows on now. “You know I’d be happy to deal with him if I were there. Tell him I’ll try to watch some episodes so we can compare notes. What channel is it on?”

“The Discovery Channel. He’ll like that.”

I look around the room for the television remote and catch the time. I didn’t realize it was so late. “It’s almost three a.m.,” I say. “I’ll let you go so you can get some sleep.”

“Now that I know I’m not going to be a father that should be easy.”

I frown. Is he being sarcastic with me?  “I’m sorry about tonight. Trust me. I’ll always be honest with you.”

“Don’t apologize. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but I still feel bad.” I swing my legs off the bed and sit up. “I’ll call you tomorrow, before we head to the arena.”

“Alright.” He’s silent for a second. “Hey, Jen?”

“Yeah?”

“I …”  He stops. “I want you to know if you were pregnant, we’d make it work. I would respect any decision you made. I wasn’t angry about a baby; I was angry about being the last to know.”

My heart skips a beat. He wouldn’t be upset if I got knocked up?  “I understand. But, just to be on the safe side, I think we should still be careful.” A small laugh escapes me. “I don’t think I’m ready to be a mom.”

His voice is quiet. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’d be great.”

He sounds disappointed, but before I can ask why, he says goodbye. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he says. “Sleep tight.”

~~~~

A week later, we’re wrapping up our set in New Orleans.

“Thank you Louisiana!” Dean shouts into the mic.

The fans cheer, putting a grin on my face. The three of us join Dean for our usual wave goodbye, and, out of habit, my eyes dart to the groupie section near the front of the stage. The usual girls are there minus one. True to Latson and Dean’s word, Heidi was kicked off the tour the day after she pulled her little prank.

I didn’t see it go down, but I was told security escorted her out with Roxanne’s help. Apparently Rox freaked when Dean told her Heidi was sneaking around our hotel room. She said if I see Heidi again I’m supposed to report it. So now, every time we play, I look for her. I don’t expect her to show up, but you never know. She could actually pay to attend a concert for once.

As we head off the stage, Dean falls behind Drew and Paul to walk next to me. His eyes dart around before he asks, “Has she said anything?”

He doesn’t have to tell me who “she” is. He’s referring to Ariel. He knows she’s pregnant because Latson told him the night of the text message. She hasn’t made a formal announcement yet, and Dean’s worried about the tour. I don’t blame him. He’s got a lot riding on it.

“Nothing specific,” I say as I stop to get stripped of my gear. “I know she’s made a doctor’s appointment. That’s all.”

Okay, that’s not really all, but Dean could care less about her relationship with Zach. Since our trip to Dallas, Ariel has permanently moved to our bus. She travels with The Union and confides in me.  She told me Zach supports her, but they’re not in love. What happened was a one night stand, a drunken mistake, and Ariel still isn’t sure what she’s going to do. All she has decided on is an appointment when we get to Tampa. She grew up in Florida and has a local doctor there.

“You’d tell me, right?” Dean hands his guitar to a crew member and pulls out his ear piece. “If it’s bad news, I need to know. I hate being blindsided.”

“You and me both,” I say, and it’s the truth.

When I’m free of equipment, I follow the guys out of the backstage area. I don’t know what their plans are, but I want to grab my stuff and head to the hotel. I’m hungry, and a hot shower and room service sounds like perfection. We’re headed down the hallway to our dressing room when a small crowd gathered outside Ariel’s door catches our attention.

“Interesting,” Dean says as we get closer. He cocks a questioning eyebrow, and I shrug. It appears some dancers, along with some arena staff, are anticipating something. We pass the group and I try to eavesdrop. Unfortunately, everyone goes silent as we walk by.

“That was weird,” Drew says when we enter our room.

“Think Ariel’s having a diva moment?” Paul jokes, opening the mini fridge.

I doubt she is. I’ve haven’t seen her be rude or demanding toward anyone. Then again, I’m not around her when she performs.

Grabbing my bag, I open it to find my phone. There’s a message from Latson: How’d it go tonight?

I type back Super fantastic as always and hit send. Then, I hear an unfamiliar voice. “Jen?  Jen Elliott?  Where’s Jen?”

I look up. Ariel’s manager, Mason, looks stressed as he pokes his head into our dressing room. “That’s me,” I say, doubtful. I’ve never talked to him before.

“I need you,” he says and rapidly gestures for me to follow him. “Bring your guitar.”

“My acoustic?”

“Whatever you have. Just move!”

“Go,” Dean says as he picks up my instrument and shoves it into my hands. “This doesn’t sound good.”

Confused, I do as I’m told, pulling the strap over my head as I follow Mason’s tall, lanky frame down the hallway. We speed walk to Ariel’s dressing room.

“I’m here. We’re here. Let me through,” he says as he parts the bodies standing in front of the door. He opens it and ushers me in ahead of him. When I step over the threshold, I look around Ariel’s posh set-up and feel a pang of jealousy. Comfy couches, an adjacent room filled with racks of costumes, a counter filled with catered finger foods, and bottles of champagne complete the area. We’re lucky if we get a bowl of pretzels and an extra folding chair.

“Ariel!  I found her,” Mason calls out.

A partially open door to my left opens further. It’s a bathroom, and Ariel is sitting on the floor in front of the toilet. “Hey.” She gives me a weak smile. “Did you know morning sickness doesn’t only hit in the morning?”

My eyes consume my face, and I glance at Mason. “Yeah, I just found out,” he says, crossing his arms and setting his jaw. “She’s been puking for the last hour.”

I look at my guitar and then Ariel. Does she want me to play her a song?  I walk toward her and kneel down. “What can I do?”

“I need you to stall,” she says. “I can’t go on yet. I’m feeling better, but not one hundred percent. I still need to get dressed and fix my face.”

“Stall how?” My brow furrows. “Do you want me to get the guys and go back on?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I mean, you can, but you already played your set. Does the band have anything else?”

“Not that we’ve rehearsed.”

“Then you go,” she says. “Sing “Fairytale.” Sing “I Choose You.” Sing –” Suddenly, she leans forward and dry heaves. “Sing whatever the hell you want,” she says into the toilet.

She’s lost her mind. “Are you insane?  The people out there don’t want to see me.” I can hear the booing and catcalls now. My music isn’t what they paid for.

“I’m asking a favor,” she groans. She looks over her shoulder at Mason. “Where are my Saltines?”

He looks like he’s losing his patience. Either that or he’s so far out of his comfort zone he doesn’t know what to do. He holds up his hands. “I put in a call.”

My eyes bounce between the two of them. Couldn’t my favor be to deliver the crackers?

“Please,” Ariel pleads. “I just need some extra time.”

My mind races. Going out on stage alone violates my cardinal rule. The idea doesn’t make me happy. In fact, it scares the shit out of me. I’m not prepared.

“Jen. Think of it as a career opportunity,” Mason says.

“You’re on board with this?”

“I’m on board with anything that prevents a hostile audience.” He looks at his watch. “And we’re supposed to start the show in a few minutes.”

I take a deep breath. Nothing like a little pressure to force you into a decision. “Okay.” I stand up and look at Ariel. She wears a grateful expression.

“Thank you,” she says before pushing her body off the floor and turning on the sink.

Don’t thank me just yet, I think. She may still wind up with angry fans.

“Let’s go,” Mason says and opens the door. As soon as he does, he’s bombarded with questions.

“Is the show canceled?”

“Is Ariel sick?”

“What does she have?”

“The show is not canceled,” he says, raising his voice and his hands to push back the people. “Ariel had a migraine, but she’s feeling better. We’re running about twenty minutes behind. Go get ready.” He grabs one of the arena personnel. “I need a mic at the front of the stage. Tell the crew there’s been a slight change, we have an extra act.”

The guy nods and starts talking into his headset.

“C’mon,” Mason says and starts to lead me through the fray.

“Jen!”

I hear Dean and look behind me. He catches up to my side as we walk. “What’s going on?”

“Ariel needs extra time. She wants me to stall.” I give him a panicked look. “She wants me to play.”

His eyes grow wide. “Are you okay with that?”

“Do I have a choice?”

The three of us make it backstage where I’m hooked up with everything I just took off. “Just go out there, introduce yourself, and play,” Mason says as Roxanne comes running up.

“What in the hell is going on here?” Her eyes shoot daggers.

“Don’t worry, Roxy. I’m not stealing your talent.” Mason looks me over, making sure I have everything. “Last minute schedule change, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Ariel’s not feeling great. She needs a few more minutes.” Mason looks me in the eye. “You’re all set. I’ll tell you when it’s time to come off through your ear piece.” He gives me a little nudge toward the stage. “Please don’t suck,” I hear him mutter.

Oh my God. Am I really doing this?

“I’m going with you.” Dean grabs my hand, and I relax a little. He leads me toward the stage. “You’ve never performed alone before. What they’re asking isn’t fair. I’ll introduce you and stay close.”

“Thanks.” I squeeze his hand.

We walk out on to the darkened stage and the lights come up a bit. Dean lets go of me and waves as he makes his way to the mic. I stare out into the arena as I follow him and notice every seat looks filled. They’re waiting for Ariel.

Not me.

“Hello again, New Orleans,” Dean’s voice echoes. “Remember me?” He laughs and the crowd cheers. “I’m Dean McCarthy, in case you forgot.” He jerks his head, telling me to move closer. “This here is Jen Elliott. You saw her earlier, too, when she wailed on rhythm guitar with me and the boys.”

The people actually make noise for me, so I nod and smile.

“Ariel –”

The crowd erupts at the mention of her name. It’s deafening. Dean grins and claps with them, then gestures for them to calm down.

“Ariel will be out in just a few minutes,” he continues over the whistles and applause. “While you wait, she sent you someone special. She asked my friend Jen to entertain you. I promise you’re going to love her.”

He steps back, giving me the mic, and my head feels heavy. A low buzz sounds in my ears, and I start to feel nauseous. My heart pounds in my chest like it’s trapped in a cage. Don’t faint. Don’t faint. Don’t faint.

I manage to step up to the mic without keeling over. “Thanks, Dean. Hello, Louisiana.” My voice sounds thick and tense. I force a smile even though my legs feel weak. “I’m Jen, and this is ‘Fairytale’.”

The people continue to cheer. Not like they did for Ariel, but at least the majority sound polite. Adrenaline feeds my nervous energy, so I close my eyes and strum my guitar. I feel like heaving. I cannot throw up!

The sound of the instrument centers me, and the buzzing starts to fade. My heart continues to race, so I concentrate on the feel of the guitar in my hands. It gives me confidence, and I let the first notes flow through my fingers and onto my strings. I open my eyes, then I open my mouth and …

Sing.

Chapter Twenty Four

“Check this out.” Dean extends his hand to show me his phone. He taps the screen and a video of me starts to play.

“You taped me singing?” I try to steal his cell from him, but he’s too fast.

“Yep,” he says and holds it close to his chest. He starts typing. “I’m sending it to everyone we know riiiiiiiight …”  He draws out the word as his thumbs fly over the screen. “Now.” He sets his phone down with a smirk.

I roll my eyes.

“Here we are.” Our smiling waitress appears. We’re seated at a high top table at a loud bar near the arena. She sets down four shots of Fireball, then hands out our other drinks. “I’ll be back to check on y’all in a few minutes.”

Drew and Paul waste no time reaching for the shots and passing them out. “To Jen!” Drew announces with his glass in the air. “On her first solo performance!”

“Hear, hear!” Dean and Paul chime in.

“You guys are dorks,” I say, but raise my glass just the same. We down the shots and slam the glasses on the table.

“I think we should add your song to our set. At least in Detroit,” Dean says. “Isn’t your family coming to that show?”

I nod. “I’m not sure if that makes me more or less nervous. I almost passed out tonight.” I’ve never felt a mixture of fear and excitement so strongly before.

“The more you do it the easier it will be,” Dean rationalizes. “You did great. Even the audience thought so.”

“They were being nice.”

“They didn’t have to be,” Paul says. “I’ve played for a few evil crowds. Those motherfuckers can turn on you like that.” He snaps his fingers.

I’m so glad that didn’t happen.

“Who’s up for darts?” Drew asks, eyeing an open board.

“I am,” Dean says. “Five bucks says you lose.”

“Five?” Drew scowls. “At least bet me enough to buy another beer.”

“Fine. Ten.”

Drew looks at me and points. “You’re playing next.”

I smile. “You’re on.” I haven’t played darts in years, but my parents used to have a board in the basement. I was decent against my brothers.

Dean and Drew leave the table, and I take a sip of my Kamikaze. It reminds me of Latson and his party when we formally met. If I knew then what I know now, I would have jumped that man immediately and taken him up on his offer of a private tour. We would have had four more weeks together before I left. I sigh. Hindsight is always 20/20.

“Jen.” Paul gets my attention. “I’m going to go hit on that blonde at the bar.” He looks over his shoulder. “Will you be okay here for a minute?”

“Just a minute?” My eyebrows shoot up. “You think that’s all it will take?”

“You know it is.” He winks at me before he stands. “I’ll be right back.”

Sure, I think as he walks away. This isn’t the first time I’ve witnessed his moves. If she shows any interest I won’t see him until morning.

I’m just about to get up to watch Drew and Dean when my phone buzzes against the table. I lean over and read a message from Gwen: I got Dean’s video. You go girl!  So awesome!

I smile and reply: Thanks. It was a last minute thing.

Then, almost immediately, I get another text message from Jules: Holy shit!  Are you the headliner now?  Congrats!  Oh, and Pete says you were lip synching. Don’t worry. I hit him for you.

I laugh. I miss those guys.

Just as I’m responding to Jules, a smooth voice says, “Spectacular show tonight. I’m glad I caught it.”

A body slides next to me and into Dean’s seat. I look up and mentally groan. “Caleb.”

“Jen.” He flashes his perfect smile and raises his hand, calling over a waitress. “I’ll take a Dewar’s straight, please.” He looks at me. “What would you like?”

My eyes dart to my nearly full glass. “I’m all set. Thanks.”

The waitress leaves, and Caleb turns his body and attention toward me. He’s dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans; his dirty blonde hair left natural and un-styled. Unfortunately, I like this look on him. He appears approachable, more like a regular guy.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” he says.

I raise an eyebrow. “And I didn’t know you were stalking Dean across the fifty states.”

He laughs. “What if I am?  I’m just doing my job.”

“Really?” I skeptically glance around the bar. “I don’t see any other label execs. In fact, I haven’t seen anyone other than you since we’ve been on tour. Why is that?”

“Snare Records is Ariel’s label.”

“But Dean’s a free agent.”

He smiles. “Why are you giving me such a hard time?  Don’t you want Dean to get signed?”

“Sure I do. I’m just not sure you’re the best choice.”

Caleb loses his grin. “Because of what Gunnar told you?”

“Um, yes,” I say sarcastically and take a drink. I may need another one of these if he’s going to hang around.

“Look –”

The waitress interrupts him to deliver his scotch.

“Thanks,” he says before turning back to me. “I’m trying to right a wrong here. What happened before shouldn’t have happened, and I know that now. Gunnar isn’t performing anymore, so I can’t make it up to him. But I can try with Dean.”

“Why the change of heart?”

Caleb plays with his drink, turning it around with his hand. “Because time tells stories. I realize what I did wasn’t necessary.”

I get snarky. “Well, isn’t that big of you.”

Caleb crosses his arms and leans against the table top. “How much do you know?  What did Gunnar tell you?”

“He’s told me enough,” I say. “It’s your fault he lost his career.”

“That’s fair,” Caleb concedes. “But did he tell you he was there the night his sister died?”

No, I think and frown. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Because he was caught on the security camera leaving her hotel room before she overdosed. There was speculation when the footage was released; hell, his own father accused him of murder.” He moves closer to me. “I knew Gunnar didn’t put the coke up Audrey’s nose, but the bad publicity was impossible to ignore. It seemed the best thing for everyone was to let the band go.”

I remember reading the headline about Latson’s dad, but hearing it from Caleb still shocks me. As my mind wraps around his words, I say, “So, you’re telling me Latson ended his career before you did.”

“I’m telling you we’re both guilty.”

The man looks sincere. I can see where he’s coming from, but it’s undeniable Latson was a victim of circumstance. There’s also the issue of Levi. “Don’t you think your brother shares part of the blame, too?”

“That he does.” Caleb takes a long drink and swallows.  “That he does.”

I study him. Something doesn’t sit right. He flew all the way out to New Orleans for what?  To see the exact same show?  “Why are you really here?”

“I told you. Dean.”

I raise my eyebrows. “And?”

Caleb smiles and shakes his head. “Fine.” He places both hands on the table and sits back. “You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You intrigue me.” He leans forward again. “You’re the only woman in an all-male group. Someone who’s never played professionally, but performs like she has her whole life. Someone who writes her own music and saves the day at the last minute.”

I’m confused. “Saves the day?”

“Roxanne told me how you stepped up for Ariel. I wasn’t expecting that. No one was.”

Does everyone think I’m a bitch?  “She needed my help. I have a heart, you know.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Caleb shakes his head.  “No one was expecting your performance. It was good. Really good.”

I don’t want to feel flattered by his compliment, but I do.

“Have you ever considered recording a demo?  I could get you into the studio once the tour’s over. We could see where it goes.”

Is he serious?  “I’ve never thought about being a singer.”

“Why?  What’s your nine to five back home?”

I laugh and pick up my drink. “It’s more like a six to two. I tend bar.”

Caleb’s eyes light up. “Selling music would earn you more. A lot more.”

Of course it would. The idea is tempting, especially after tonight. However, there’s no way in hell Latson would want me to work with Caleb. Plus, there’s no guarantee my songs would sell. “Thanks, but I’d rather not get my hopes up.”

Caleb leans into my personal space. “What’s holding you back?”

I shrug, but don’t move away. He’s doesn’t intimidate me.

“I know it’s your boyfriend,” he says. “Are you going to let him run your life?”

My jaw drops. “Excuse me?  You don’t know anything about us.”

“I know the chance I’m offering is one in a million. You should take it.” He pushes a loose piece of hair away from my face, his fingers lingering on my skin, before he whispers my ear. “Do you know what I mean?”

Oh, I know what he means. My eyes narrow. “You don’t get to touch me. Ever. Is that clear?”

He pulls away. “Jen, I …”

“Don’t Jen me.” I stand. “This conversation is over.”

My phone starts to buzz against the table. I reach for it, but Caleb’s faster. He holds it out of my reach and says, “Don’t go. Let me explain.”

“Give me my phone.”

“If you would just wait a minute –”

“I said give me my phone.”

“You don’t understand what I meant.”

“No, I understand perfectly what you meant.” I try to grab my cell, but he stands and holds it hostage. “Damn it, Caleb!  Give me my phone!  I want to leave.”

“What’s going on here?”

I turn around to see Dean and Drew. Caleb answers, “Jen and I were just discussing the possibility of her starting a singing career. Weren’t we, Jen?”

He smiles, but I can see the message lying beneath. He doesn’t want me to say anything about what just happened. Little does he know the truth will be told once Dean and I are alone.

“Yep,” I say, clipping the word and holding my hand out for my phone again. He gives it to me, and I look at Dean and Drew. “I’m headed back to the hotel. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“I’ll come with you,” Drew says, giving Caleb a questioning look.

As we leave the bar, Drew sets a protective hand against my back. I glance down at my phone to see who called and realize the call connected. Caleb must have brushed his thumb against the screen when he picked it up. My heart drops.

It’s Latson.

“Hello?” I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?  Are you there?”

“You’re with Caleb.”

Shit. His words are a statement and his voice sounds flat. I say the first thing that comes to mind. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re thinking about a singing career.”

“No. I –”

“I’ll let you go.”

“No!  Wait.”

The line goes silent. “Latson?” No answer. “Latson?”

He’s gone.

~~~~

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s not taking my calls, either.”

I shift my gaze from the ceiling of my bunk to Dean. “You tried again?”

“Just now. I left another message.”

My face falls. If Latson won’t answer the phone for his brother, my chances are disappearing by the second. It’s been two days.

“He’ll come around,” Dean says. “He’s sulking right now, but he’ll snap out of it.”

“When?” I ask. “Because this is killing me.”

It is. I think it literally is. My stomach has been in knots ever since this whole thing happened. I have no appetite and sleeping is impossible. I keep thinking he’ll text or call, and I’ll be asleep and miss it. I’ve even been taking my phone with me into the bathroom when I shower.

“Hopefully he’ll get his head out of his ass by the time we get to Tampa,” Dean says. “Only a few more hours to go.”

If that happened, I would welcome it. With open arms, trumpets, and confetti cannons. I know I didn’t do anything wrong, but it feels like I did.  All I want is the chance to explain what he overheard.

Dean’s phone rings, and I nearly jump out of my skin.  I get hopeful until I watch his expression twist. He sends the call to voice mail. “Caleb,” he says.

“Asshole.” I flop back against my pillow. “Is there any way we can rid of him?”

“I wish.” Dean pockets his phone. “You know I’m only putting up with him until the end of the tour.”

After I told Dean that Caleb tried to hit on me, he wasn’t pleased. He confided that he never planned to sign with Snare, not with Sacred Sin’s history. He’s only tolerating Caleb to get through this tour. He said he has to be nice to him to avoid burning bridges; labels and agents talk. His main goal is to gain exposure, then shop his music.