by Piper Lawson
Afterward, I’d held her in my arms as we stayed up all night talking and laughing and teasing.
It’s getting harder to admit this is part of our ending. I want to take our three minute song and make it four, or five.
We leave the kids in the room—I’d told Annie to keep an eye on things, not that I’m worried about it really—and start down the hall toward the elevator.
“I heard you were recording with the kids yesterday,” she says as I hit the button for G and the doors close.
“It was fun. Tyler’s got something.”
She smiles. “I know he does.”
The doors open and we cross the lobby.
“Cross started this program. In the past two years, I’ve taken it up a notch. Now they get experience mixing, producing. I borrow time from the marketing team to talk about how to sell the music. From anyone who’ll help.”
Haley follows me out into the sunlight, slipping on sunglasses, and to the Acura. I hit the locks and grab the passenger door so she can shift inside.
I round to the driver’s side, then I take my seat and turn on the engine.
“I’ll help.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Any way I can. In the past month, it feels like you helped me get my kid back, Hales. And my music.” I swallow the emotion rising up. “I know I wasn’t the easiest to convince, but I’m stubborn like that.”
“Sometimes we both are,” she says softly.
I force my attention to the road as we navigate the heavy traffic to the studio.
For the past two weeks, we’ve been busy with the album.
I’ve also sat in on two sessions with the kids.
They’re talented, and I know Haley’s really into it.
What I didn’t expect was for me to be into it. I like watching them mess around and screw up and try new things. I learn from them, too. It’s a different way to do music than I ever thought of.
Given what I’ve been through, the ups and downs, I can mentor them, be with them, see the world through their eyes. It makes me feel like maybe I didn’t screw everything up. Like maybe the unpredictable roller coaster I lived can help them live.
We get there, park, and go inside.
The interview I’m about to do is for national television, but they’ll record here and broadcast across a bunch of networks.
Serena’s waiting to greet us at the soundstage… with Todd.
“Run out of real work to do?” I drawl as he looks between us.
“Just came to supervise the company’s investment.” He turns away, getting on his phone, and I watch him wander the edge of the studio like a dark shadow.
Serena introduces me to the host while I get mic’d up. I take a seat on the stool—why these places have dumb little stools, I have no idea—and we get a countdown.
When it reaches zero, the female host with the big TV smile accosts me. “Jax Jamieson is back, world. And he and Riot Act are doing a new album. Why now?”
It’s best to stick close to the truth with media. “I wasn’t sure I had something left to give. Someone convinced me I was wrong.”
“Aren’t we glad they did? You retired for two years and did cologne commercials.”
“I did one cologne commercial,” I correct, raising a brow.
“It’s good to have you back. When’s the tour?”
I swallow my surprise. I know better than to outright deny something, just as I know better than to prop it up. I keep my voice level as I say, “I’m focusing on my family right now. My daughter.”
“Her mother’s not in the picture?”
“No.”
“I think I heard a thousand ovaries break across America. You heard it here first, ladies. Jax Jamieson is unattached.”
“Actually,” I say, not sure why it bothers me to hear her say that, “that’s not true. Outside of my family, there’s only one girl who’s ever had my heart.”
Her eyes gleam like she’s just spotted a hundred dollar bill stuck to her designer shoe. “Who’s the lucky woman and what did she do to land you?”
I search for Haley across the room, find her gaze.
“She yelled at me, and hit me, and then followed me around for months.”
Her jaw drops, and she’s shaking her head, tightly.
“She sang my songs even when I told her not to. She kept all my secrets and pretty much showed me how to live again.”
The head shaking stops as Haley’s eyes glass over. My chest tightens as I swallow the grin.
“So the way to your heart is through stalking?” the host asks, bringing me back.
“Nah, so please don’t try it. This particular version of stalking can’t be replicated. It was a onetime deal. I read it as charming. It should’ve been weird as fuck.”
“Wow. Okay then. We’re playing the first official clip of a song from Riot Act.”
I take off my mic and feel eyes on me. Not Haley’s—she’s pulled into a conversation with Serena. The head of production.
This is not the kind of inconspicuous I promised to be.
Todd shoves his hands in his pockets, spanning the distance between us in a few strides. “Are you trying to start a rumor? Or you just know how to leave them wanting more?”
“That’s my job.”
The album’s nearly done. Working these crazy long days has been good for me, done something for me, being back in the studio feels like it’s changing me in other ways. Besides that I wear more jeans—which delights Annie to no end—it feels like my brain’s getting back on some track I didn’t know I’d jumped.
“It’s interesting.” Todd’s gaze lands on Haley as she exchanges a few words with the host, and I wonder how long I’ve been staring.
“What is.”
“Wicked tried to contact you for months. Then she calls and you come running.”
He’s trying to bait me, and I force myself to stay easygoing. “Apparently she asked the right question.”
I turn away from him and Serena catches my eye. “Jax, can I talk to you about promotion?”
She walks me to one end of the stage while Todd stalks toward the door. She sighs when he leaves. “There’s something you need to know. If the album’s not a success, Haley’s program will get cut. I’m telling you because she won’t put that pressure on you, but I want you to know that what you’re doing here matters.”
As Serena goes to meet her friend, a stone settles in my stomach.
When Haley called me back here, she made a play for my soul. For the man she knows I can be.
She took that chance on me.
Not in the past.
Right now. Despite how things ended last time. Despite how I treated her, and everything she’s been through.
Which makes it that much harder to remind myself this is all part of our ending.
16
Haley
Two months ago I wouldn’t have believed it was possible.
That Jax would come back. That he’d record the kind of songs that leave me breathless. That we’d save the program.
But when the album drops, it drops with a bang.
“No matter what Kyle says, the cake is not that bad,” Serena prods. “It’s a party. Look happier. The critics giving early reviews have said it’s good, but we both know it anyway. The first single’s getting airplay. This is what people want.”
“I know.”
This party has an entirely different vibe than Jerry’s retirement party. This one’s small. Private. Personal.
It’s not five hundred people.
It’s not even fifty.
It includes the band. A few other artists. The staff at the studio. The kids, at Jax’s suggestion.
My gaze lands on Tyler, who’s laughing with Annie and some of the others.
Serena and the entire PR team have been promoting their asses off. I hope it’s enough.
“You in a sugar coma?”
I turn to find Jax behind me, looking gorgeou
s in faded jeans, white sneakers and a Pink Floyd T-shirt. “There you are. I’m surprised you made it with all the interviews you’re doing.”
He shrugs. “Might as well get as much publicity as we can.”
“Jax, no matter what happens? This album is amazing.”
A grin takes over his handsome face. “It’s not bad.”
Over the past two weeks, he’s been working his ass off to get this album finished and mixed. The whole band has.
I don’t know why he’s started doubling down, but I appreciate it.
The first track was a love song that went down easy.
The second, about growing pains, stuck a little.
The third was about taking your time.
The fourth…
The fourth, called “Line of Sight,” was about changing perspectives. Seeing things in new ways.
I never expected to like another song more than the one Jax wrote two years ago and left on the floor of a diner, but I love this one.
Recording it was bittersweet, because I didn’t want it to be over.
And maybe he didn’t either.
I’ve gotten used to working next to him again in the studio during the day. It’s amazing how fast the old pattern came back, even though we were only on tour for a month. Sometimes I think it was the best month of my life.
Todd’s been lurking over us the whole time, so we’ve been keeping it strictly professional.
But Jax would text me, tease me. We’d exchange secret smiles and laughter.
I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about why he’s here.
Because why we’re here is to make this album. Not to see if there’s some kind of second chance for us.
Jax and I haven’t talked about what would happen when the album is finished because we both know there’s an expiration date on this.
We each have responsibilities. You could say we didn’t choose them, but we did. Jax found Annie, and he decided to be there for her. I chose this program, these kids, even when it was hard.
The door opens, and we all turn toward it.
Derek’s there, with Todd in tow. “We have the numbers. The album’s gone gold. At this rate, it should hit platinum by next weekend.”
The room erupt with cheers.
I throw my arms around Jax’s neck, burying my face in his shoulder in delight. “Oh my God. Jax…you have no idea how much this means.”
“I think I do.” He pulls back. His face isn’t quite a reflection of the ecstasy in mine, but it’s close. “Serena told me you bet the program on this.”
Apprehension starts up in my gut as I scan his expression. “Are you mad?”
“No. It means a lot that you have that kind of faith in me. I’m glad you dragged me back here. I needed this.”
“Me too.”
Something deeper in his gaze makes my heart kick in my chest. Because he’s right.
Derek interrupts my daydream. “Haley. A word.”
I tear my gaze from Jax and follow Derek out to the hall, shutting the door after us.
The sounds of the party all but disappear.
Thank you, soundproofing.
“So I guess the program is saved.”
His mouth is a stern line. “About that. Something went missing from a rehearsal room a few weeks back. The one where your kids practice.”
My smile fades a little. “A lot of people practice there.”
“A lot of people are professional musicians,” Todd states. “And the rest are children who wouldn’t think twice about selling a guitar.”
My minds works to connect the dots.
“In light of this violation,” Derek interjects, “I can’t in good conscience recommend we pursue your program.”
I hold up a hand. “It’s a misunderstanding. None of my kids would do that. If you don’t believe their reputation, believe mine. I have never done anything to compromise my personal integrity or this company’s.”
Todd lets out a skeptical sound. “Your reputation is worth less than it used to be.”
I fold my arms over my chest, not bothering for once to hide my resentment. This guy has taken enough of my time and patience and for a second I wish I still had control of the company so I could fire his arrogant ass. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
But instead of rising to the bait, he smirks. “As you know, there’s a security camera in each studio. We were searching the footage. The angle doesn’t show the instrument that went missing, but we did find something very interesting.”
The tone of his voice has alarm bells going off in my head. I have no idea what he might have found, so why the hell is he being—
My eyes fall shut.
Me blowing Jax.
He doesn’t have to say it.
Every part of me’s boiling with humiliation and indignation. But I force my chin up.
“Derek, I swear to God—”
His face lines with regret. “I understand you’re upset, and I assure you, we will destroy the footage. But we also need to make a decision about the program.”
“You can’t force me out of the company.”
“No. But the majority shareholders have been onside with the idea of cutting the program for two months, even before this latest incident.” The conflicted expression on his face doesn’t make his words easier to digest. “It’s done, Haley. We can give you two weeks to wrap things up.”
It’s done. The phrase echoes in my brain as he leaves.
It takes me a moment to realize Todd’s lingered behind.
“I’ll go somewhere else to run the program,” I state. “We’ll take what we’ve started and find a new home.”
He smirks. “You really will be starting over. The recordings are company property. Every song those kids have laid down since this program started. It’s all in the legal agreement they sign when they walk in the door.”
I feel myself go pale.
How I find my way to my office, I have no idea. But I’m sitting on my desk, swiping at angry tears when Jax’s voice interrupts me.
“Hales.” I look up to meet his concerned gaze. “What happened?”
“They’re cutting the program. The album’s a huge success, and they’re cutting it anyway.” I hate how my voice sounds. I hate feeling weak.
Jax’s body stiffens, his gaze jerking toward the hallway. “Was this Derek or that prick Todd?”
“I’ll figure it out. You’ve done more than enough.” I manage a watery smile. “I dragged you and your daughter across the country on a week’s notice to write and record all new original material. Your work here is done. You paid me back by delivering a platinum album.”
“I hope that’s not all I delivered.” The warmth in his tone has me thinking about everything that’s happened between us.
He drops onto the desk next to me, toeing the carpet as he shoves his hands in his pockets.
If someone told me we’d have another shot at an ending, I’d have called them crazy. But we have had, and it’s been beautiful.
Jax’s album is complete. In some ways, this is the culmination of what I wanted when I took over Wicked from Cross.
I wanted to find another Jax.
I did. I found it in him, when he didn’t think it was there.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Three years ago, all I wanted was to matter. I wanted you to teach me how, and you did.” I rest a hand on the denim covering his thigh as emotions roll over me in waves. “You did, and I’m so grateful.”
My gaze lifts to his. He turns my words over in his mind. “That’s nothing, Hales. You helped me get my kid back in a way the lawyers couldn’t. And my music.”
It takes everything in me just to breathe right now. To tell my body that everything’s the way it’s supposed to be.
Because I just lost my program, and it feels as if I’m about to lose something that matters even more.
I squeeze his hand, looking past him to the Ireland picture.
“I always liked that one,” he says, as if he can read my mind.
“Me too. Do you ever miss him?”
“Cross?” I expect him to laugh, but he just looks around the office. “Sometimes. He gave me someone to blame, and blaming is easier. You can’t push against the world when there’s no one to resist.”
“The first time I came to this office after learning Cross was my father, he gave me shit for asking bad questions. Said there was one question I should be asking, and if I knew what it was, I’d know him better.”
“And?”
“The question is why he sent me on tour with you.”
Jax’s gaze scans mine. “You wish he was still here so you could ask him?”
I shake my head. “I don’t need to ask him. I know.”
Somehow a piece of hair slipped into my face, and I tuck it back before turning toward him.
“I was the daughter he didn’t know what to do with. You were the son he could never ask for. And as much as he fucked up… I think he knew we’d be good for each other, Jax.”
Jax shifts off the desk and steps between my legs, tilting his face toward mine. His touch is comforting on my thighs.
I was holding it together until this moment, but when his mouth grazes mine once, twice, my arms wrap around him and hold him against me. Every ounce of emotion and need pouring out of him is destroying me, and I lose myself in the kiss.
I hate the idea of not having him next to me in the morning, not being around him, not sharing his smiles and his moods.
We break apart, breathing heavily.
“When are you going back to Dallas?”
“This weekend.”
I nod, but it’s mechanical.
“It doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, Hales,” he murmurs, the words spilling into one another in a very un-Jax-like way. “I want you to call me. I swear to God I’ll answer. Not just if you’re pregnant. But of course then too.” I hiccup a laugh. “If you have a bad day. Hell, a good one. I want to know. Promise me.”
Nodding is easier than speaking, but Jax waits until I find my voice. “I promise,” I whisper.