by Erika Kelly
“Like?” her dad asked.
“Like a black sesame passion-fruit truffle, which I painted to look like an Easter egg. I have a tangerine jam and thyme dark chocolate in the shape of a skull and painted silver. I’ve got one with honey caramel, bee’s pollen, and egg custard cream in the center.”
“Ah, crap.” Her dad pushed back his chair and stalked into the kitchen. “I can’t wait.”
The women all grinned.
“So, what’s your plan, sweetie?” her mom asked Gigi.
“Right now, I’m just going to play it by ear.” She’d told her family she’d come to Calamity to spend time with them while waiting to hear from Clean Beatz. She didn’t want to lie but seeing the bombshell cheerleader leaning against Cassian’s car had rattled her. Which only served to expose an enormous fault line in their relationship.
She didn’t trust him. Not all the way.
So, she didn’t see the point in getting her family all riled up—not until she and Cassian knew what they were doing. Because truthfully? She really, really didn’t want to go back to the emotional roller coaster of high school. This time around, she had much more at stake. My career.
“Well, I’m happy about that. I can book us a spa day. We can get in some good hikes. Hey, we’ve talked about renting a place on Whidbey Island. We could do that this week.”
“Mom, no. I’ve got three weeks left before I find out if Dale’s going to drop us or not. I’m going to use that time to write some songs.”
Her dad came back into the dining room. “Unbelievable.” He kissed Coco’s temple. “You’re a wizard.” Before sitting down, he set a chocolate skull next to his wife’s plate. “She made that.”
Her mom picked it up, marveling at its glittery silver artistry. “It’s fabulous, sweetheart. I can’t wait to try it after dinner.” She reached for her daughters’ hands. “It’s so good to have both of you here.” This time, her smile was strained.
No one addressed the elephant in the room. What could they say? Stella will be back one day? We’ll be a whole family again? There was no guarantee that would ever happen.
She couldn’t stand to see her mom in so much pain, so she said, “I’ve decided not to sit around and wait for Dale to determine my fate, so I pitched a solo record to her.”
“Good for you,” Coco said. “That’s awesome.”
“I love that idea,” her mom said. “What did she say?”
“I’m still waiting to hear back.”
Her dad seemed distracted with constructing his dinner. Where he was a steak and potatoes kind of guy, her mom liked a little of this and a little of that. When she cooked, her dinners consisted of various interesting dishes that she liked to nibble.
Her dad didn’t know what to do with it, so he constructed them into a meal he could understand.
“Give me that.” Grabbing his plate, her mom made a bottom layer of roasted vegetables, added chunks of feta, tossed a couple olives on, and then rested a piece of cod on top. She handed it back.
“I’m grilling tomorrow night,” her dad grumbled.
“So, you’re making a demo?” her mom asked. “Do you have enough material?”
Gigi set down her fork. “I’ve got notebooks filled with half-written songs. Hopefully, there’s something worthwhile in them.”
“There is,” Coco said.
“She’s right,” her mom said. “We’ve heard you composing and playing them over the years.”
“I’d have to change the lyrics, though, since I’d still be a Lollipop.” Their fans didn’t want to hear about broken hearts and lost dreams. They wanted to feel happy. “But I think I can do it. I’d like to try.”
“You think Dale will go for it?” Her mom popped an olive into her mouth.
“It could go either way. I’m hoping she’ll see it as a way to save her label from the Lollipops blowing up, but she might just want to wash her hands of us and put together a new girl band. We’ll see. In any event, that’s what I’ll be doing while I’m home. Writing new songs.”
“You could do that in LA.” Her mom gave her a knowing look. “Any reason in particular you’re doing it here?”
Okay, so they already knew. “You obviously know why.”
“We wondered,” her mom said. “Now we know.”
“So, how’d the tour go?” her dad asked.
Gigi cut a look to her sister. Classic Dad. Avoiding the emotional stuff. “It was the best one so far.” She hadn’t wanted to talk about it tonight, but since the truth was out, she might as well lay it all on the table. “Want to know why?”
Her dad looked up from his cod, interested. Totally oblivious.
Are you kidding me? She’d spent a week with Cassian, and her dad wasn’t even slightly worried that she’d found out what had gone down in high school?
Her mom’s uncomfortable—maybe even remorseful expression—said she sure was.
“Because I threw a balled-up napkin at Macy Guthrie’s head.”
“You what?” Her mom was not amused.
Coco raised a hand, and Gigi slapped it. “That woman’s a stuck-up bitch.”
“Coco,” her mom said.
“Mom, she gives you these tight smiles, like somehow she’s better than you because she won an award? You’re an amazing photographer and interior designer, a kickass wife and mother, and you’re a world-class philanthropist. She’s got no business sticking her nose up at you.”
Her mom got up, wrapped an arm around Coco’s shoulder and kissed her cheek. “I love you, my fierce angel.”
“I know why you’d say that, but she’s actually pretty cool,” Gigi said. “At first, she barely even acknowledged us.”
“See?” Coco said.
“But as soon as I hit her in the head, she loosened up, and then we all had so much fun together. Kevin’s absolutely amazing. He should get a raise. He works nonstop, and we hardly had any snafus.” She didn’t want to ruin dinner—she hadn’t planned on bringing it up at all—but everyone at this table had to be wondering what had happened between her and Cassian.
She poked the tines of her fork into the fish. “And the kids and their families? Their spirits amaze me. You’d think there’d be self-pity and anger, you know? But they’re all just warriors. I swear these tours are a reality check.”
“Amen to that,” her mom said.
“You guys have done a really good thing with Dreams Come True.” As frustrated as she was at them, she needed to let them know that. “I’m really proud to have you as my parents.”
“Aw, sweetheart,” her mom said. “We’re proud of you, too.”
“How’d Cassian do?” her dad asked.
Oh, my God, are you serious? Throwing out his name like it doesn’t land with a thousand tiny pin pricks? She looked at Coco with wide eyes and shook her head. The man was absolutely clueless.
“Cassian did great.” She heard the bite in her words, but her dad didn’t.
He remained focused on his dinner. “I figured he would. I don’t normally send someone who’s in the middle of all that tabloid attention, but I knew he’d take this tour seriously.” He looked up with a smile. “And they love him. Everywhere he goes…they just love him.”
Yeah, about that? Remember when I loved him, and you treated it like a stupid little crush?
How could her dad act like he’d played no part in their story?
Okay, calm down. You can talk to him later, privately.
“That seventeen-year-old from Salina? Cassian rented a convertible mustang for him. Don’t tell anyone, but he let him drive it in an empty parking lot. And he was incredibly patient with everyone who wanted autographs. He ran out of jerseys on the third day, because he literally handed them out to everyone who approached him, and he had more overnighted.”
Her dad’s fork scraped across the plate. “Glad to hear it. He’s a good kid. He just…”
“Needs a good woman,” her mom said with a teasing grin. “Like you did?”
“Well, of course,” Gigi said. “Cassian had a good woman.” So much for not ruining a family dinner. “He had me.”
Her dad’s head jerked up, and he looked from his wife to his daughter.
“There he is,” Coco said.
“In fact…” Gigi set her napkin on the table. She was done eating. “Cassian and I had some good conversations.”
Her dad lowered his hands under the table and rubbed his thighs. “Okay.” He faced her. “If you’re looking for an apology, you won’t get one. I don’t regret what I did.”
“Even after you saw how it ruined me?”
“I didn’t expect that…reaction. And I almost changed my mind…but I—”
“We.” Her mom reached for him, and they clasped hands on the table. “I know you want to keep me out of it, but we made the decisions together, so we take the hits together.” She turned to Gigi. “Honey, it gutted us to see you devastated like that. I can’t tell you how many nights we lay awake in bed and considered the problem from every angle.”
“The problem? Mom, it was my problem. I was seventeen. Even if I made the wrong decision, it should’ve been mine to make.”
Her mom looked tortured. “You would have gone to Michigan.”
“I absolutely would have. Do I know for sure that Cassian and I would still be together? No, but we would’ve made our own way through life. You intervening…can’t you see? It was just wrong.”
“You could only see up until that moment, senior year of high school,” her dad said. “But I had nearly three decades on you. And I knew college ball at that level. It’s tough. It’s serious. He wouldn’t have been able to give you the time…” Her dad shook his head, like he’d gotten off-track. “The bottom line is that we believed you’d lose yourself in his career.”
“Or maybe, instead of becoming a Lollipop,” Coco said. “She’d be writing and performing her own music.”
“High school relationships almost never work when they move onto college,” her mom said. “They just don’t. The twenties are for self-discovery. That’s when you learn to live on your own.”
“A lot of temptations, when you’re the quarterback,” her dad said.
“That’s not…God, you’re missing the point. He worshipped you, Dad. It wasn’t about football—it was never about football. You were the first person to pay attention to him.”
“Honey, he had a father until he was fourteen,” her mom said.
“His dad worked on Wall Street. He hardly ever saw his parents. But you gave him attention. You taught him to be a man. And he felt like he owed you.”
“Sweetheart—” her mom said.
She got up. “No. I get that you thought you were doing the right thing, but I’m telling you, you were wrong. You should’ve talked to me, told me your concerns.”
“Gigi.” Her mom got up, too.
But she was already halfway out of the room. She stopped, though, and got a hold of herself, because she had something to say. “You think the course of my life would’ve changed if I’d followed Cassian, but you changed the course of my life.” The truth of it all weighed heavily. “I don’t think you understand what you did to us.”
She grabbed her purse. She needed to get out of the house.
She needed Cassian.
“You think I screwed up?” Cassian sat on a chaise by the resort’s indoor pool.
All around him, his teammates partied. Some gathered around a table with booze and snacks, while others played around in the water.
“You’ve got to stop beating yourself up.” Dean tipped back his beer. “The situation’s not black or white. Don’t you think you’d be just as worked up if you’d let him stay? Look, the kid’s a distraction, and it’s not fair to the others who want to take advantage of their time here. And, not a small point, we’ve got to have zero tolerance for sexual harassment.” Dean let out a breath. “All that said, I obviously don’t like that he’s going home to the environment that created him.”
“That’s what’s grinding through me. I got hot so fast…I should’ve at least tried to work with him.”
Dean sat up, swinging his legs off his chaise and planting his feet on the ground. “You started this camp because you wanted to give kids hope, a way out of their shitty situations. Your goal isn’t to rehabilitate them. Therapy isn’t even in our wheelhouse.”
That’s true. And that made him feel better about his decision.
“Hey, you guys.” Amie strode through the doors in a short, white coverup. “Whew.”
“How’d it go?” She’d gone with Bill to get Walker checked in and settled at the hotel.
She dropped her purse and water bottle on a table and whipped off her dress, leaving her in a bright pink bikini. “It was one of the toughest things I’ve ever had to do.” She headed straight for the Jacuzzi and turned on the jets.
Worried about the boy, Cassian got up. “Did he apologize?” Because if he had, Cassian would reconsider. Maybe give him another chance.
“Oh, God, no.” Unscrewing the bottle, she tipped her head back and drank. The water rushed out, spilling down her chin. She laughed, arching her back, one hand brushing the droplets off her chest. “He talked about calling his lawyer. Spoiler alert: he doesn’t have one.” Sitting on the edge of the tub, she stirred the water with her legs. “He had some things to say about you.”
“I don’t need to hear them.” Cassian pulled up a chair next to the Jacuzzi. “Did you feel threatened by him at all?”
“If you’re looking to justify your decision, forget it.” She slid into the bubbling water. “He’s been trouble since day one.”
Dean came up beside him, phone in hand. “You gonna be okay?”
Cassian figured Dean wanted to check in with his girlfriend. “Yeah, sure. Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.” Normally, Dean stayed with him at his house, but with Gigi coming over at nine, he’d gotten Dean a room at the hotel with the other guys.
Gigi. A zing of anticipation shot down his spine. He couldn’t wait to see her.
Forty-six more minutes.
With a wave, Dean took off.
His teammates laughed and talked, oblivious to the situation with Walker. Cassian stared into the bubbling water. “I just don’t know what he’s going home to.”
Amie patted the side of the tub. Get in.
Nope. He shook his head, not interested in being alone with her in a Jacuzzi.
Leaning forward, she tilted her head and pulled the hair away from her neck. A strand got caught in the ties, and she winced. “I think you have to stay in your lane. Your job is to run this camp, not save children. It isn’t fair to the other campers, who’re working their butts off, to have their one and only session with pro athletes ruined by Walker Lovett.”
“I don’t know his circumstances, but they can’t be good.”
“You’ve got one week left. That’s not enough time to fix him.” With a pained expression, she struggled to untie her bikini top. “Oh, forget it.” She wiggled her fingers. “I got acrylic nails on my lunch hour, and I literally can’t untie a bow. Can you do me a favor real quick? I just need to get my hair out.”
“Yeah, sure.” He stepped into the tub, resting a knee on the edge. The hot water felt good. “Lift as much of your hair as you can.”
She tilted her head, gathering her hair. “If it helps, just know that he got a lot of support this week. From me, Andre, Dean. We all tried to talk to him, to help him, but he just wouldn’t back down.”
“I wish I hadn’t lost my temper.” Had he, though? He’d been pretty calm around the kid. Calm but intractable. “Or that I’d found the right words.” He tugged on the tie, and then pulled the lock of hair free. “I feel like maybe I should talk to him one more time.” What could it hurt to go over there and give him one more chance?
“I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better about this, but I can’t. All I can say is you’ve got thirty-nine other kids who are here and ready to
learn, and Walker’s caused a lot of tension in the group. I’ll bet anything, with him gone, the spirit of the whole camp will change.” She glanced up at him with a soft smile.
“Maybe. I hope you’re right.”
Gigi: I’m here.
In her tank top, shorts, and cowboy boots, Gigi stood on Cassian’s porch shivering. Should’ve changed before I ran out of the house. Living in LA, she’d forgotten how chilly it got in the mountains at night.
Gigi: Open the door. I’m freezing!
There wasn’t a single light on in his house, and it was too dark to go exploring around back.
She checked the time on her phone. 8:20. Forty minutes early. He wasn’t home yet.
Gigi: I know, I’m early!
He said he liked to eat dinner and hang out with his guys, make sure they had everything they needed, be there to listen to complaints, so he was probably still at the hotel with them. She’d go there. She shot off a text.
Gigi: Is it okay if I come to the hotel? LMK if that’s not cool.
How serious was she going to take this secrecy thing? She needed to hide their relationship from the public but from their friends and family? That would make it way too difficult. And they had enough obstacles.
Besides, if they were going to be together, she’d like to get to know his friends. It should be safe, since he’d booked the entire hotel for his guys.
Of course, he’d done that in Aspen and look what happened there.
So…what should I do? The frosty air made her breath come out in little white puffs, and she rubbed her arms. She could go home…but she wasn’t ready to see her parents yet. And waiting in the car with the heater on didn’t make sense, not for forty minutes.
You know what? She’d just go to the hotel. Meet the guys.
Yep. That’s what I’ll do.
Gigi entered the lobby of the Owl Hoot Spa and Resort, designed to recreate a hotel from a late eighteen-hundreds Wild West town. She stood there for a moment and took it all in. Gleaming brass banisters led the way up a grand staircase carpeted in red. Paneled walls in a rich, dark wood and bronze sconces gave the huge space a warm, cozy feeling.