“We will,” Griffin said, answering for both of them. “But first a drink. It’s been a helluva week.”
After an hour of sitting in the glow of her brother, Laila actually found herself enjoying being with everyone. She still felt a little on the outside, missing some of the inside jokes, but Griffin’s casual inclusion of her in his conversation kept her in the inner circle.
Griffin finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the bar top. He turned to her. “You ready to play?”
She stiffened. It would take a lot more than one dry martini to get her to play in front of the hometown crowd. “They don’t want to hear me.”
“Sure they do. Anyone would.”
“They just want to hear you. Maybe you and Sydney could play.”
“I get the feeling Sydney’s not the attention hog that I am.” He gave her a cheeky grin that had her smiling back.
“I didn’t bring my guitar,” she said.
“You could play mine. I noticed Dad got us the same one. Only he would blow a wad of cash on a Martin guitar for a couple of five-year-olds.”
Her throat got tight. She’d known the value of her guitar and had treated it like a treasure her whole life. “I’m not…” She trailed off. Good enough. She was nothing compared to him or Sydney or Rick or her dad. She didn’t have “it.”
“Not what?”
She forced a smile. “Not ready. You go ahead. You’re the one everyone’s excited about.”
His hazel eyes, so like her own, burned into hers. “No one has the music of your soul. Only you can bring that to the world. And I’m telling you, it’s worth sharing.”
She blinked rapidly, touched deeply by his words that showed a belief in her, however unfounded. She didn’t have what it took, and she knew it. “You go ahead.” She turned to the group sitting nearby, Sydney and friends, and said, “You guys, Griffin needs a little encouragement to get up there and play.”
Griffin shot her a look.
Sydney cupped her hands around her mouth to make her voice carry as she chanted, “Griff-in, Griff-in.”
Soon the whole room was chanting her brother’s name, and Laila took a great deal of pride in that. Griffin stood with a smile and the room broke out in applause. He kissed her cheek, surprising her. “My fans await.”
He snagged his guitar and headed to the center of the space. Someone brought over a wooden chair for him. He pulled his guitar from its case and tuned it. The bar fell utterly silent.
She glanced over at Sydney, who smiled. She smiled back and quickly looked away, uncomfortable with the sudden friendliness. The first notes rang out of Griffin’s most famous song, “Crazy Thing,” when he suddenly stopped, hanging his head. The crowd erupted in whispered conversation. Something was wrong.
Laila rushed over to him. “What’s wrong? Is today catching up to you with dad and everything? It’s okay. I’ll tell them you need a break.” He met her eyes, and the pain she saw there made her heart clutch. “What is it?”
He shook his head. “I can’t play that one.”
“Play ‘Up on Top of the World.’” It was a rocking song with a building chorus that she was sure would get the crowd behind him. He needed that.
“Yeah. Okay. Could you stand to the right?” He pointed where he wanted her. “Right there. I just need someone in that spot.”
“Okay.” The request was strange, but she stood where he wanted her.
“Thanks,” he said, and then he launched into the song that soon had everyone on their feet and singing the chorus back and forth with him. He was smiling as he played, and it lifted her spirits up too. She was sure even the great Ron Colton would’ve been smiling right along with them.
Sydney came over and snapped a few pictures of Griffin playing, looking right at Laila, the two of them smiling. It might just be Laila’s only fifteen minutes of fame, but she didn’t care, she was having the time of her life.
And she was extremely pleased the next morning to see her and Griffin’s picture splashed all over the Internet. People were asking about her online. Wondering who she was and if Griffin was with her. She loved having the secret of being his half sister. He’d promised to spend the day with her and let her show him off if she’d play some more of her songs for him. An even trade. As long as her playing stayed private. For once, everything seemed to be going right in her life.
But first, the show-off.
The next day, she held her brother’s arm, wearing his black leather jacket again at his insistence as they strolled down the sidewalk in downtown Eastman where she worked. For some reason he had a problem with her usual outfits and wanted her covered in his oversized jacket. She had a good body, probably her best asset, and wasn’t afraid to show it off. It was kinda cute to have him playing the concerned big brother. It was a rare mild winter day and the lingering snow had started to melt. Griffin seemed fine wearing his own gray hoodie as a coat. She made eye contact and smiled at everyone who crossed their path in a happy little bubble of her famous brother’s making.
And then her bubble burst when a petite brunette woman with choppy short hair abruptly stopped in front of them, her startlingly blue eyes shooting daggers right at Laila.
“You messed around with the wrong guy,” the woman spat in a harsh New Yawk accent, slapping Laila across the face.
The slap triggered every fighting instinct Laila possessed. No one got away with treating her like that. She was Griffin Huntley’s sister! She was somebody! She grabbed the woman by the hair, was vaguely aware of her brother yelling something and gesturing, but it was all a blur as she took the smaller woman down to the sidewalk in a rolling tangle of claws and hair pulls and screams.
Chapter Five
Christina realized her mistake the minute her ass hit the concrete sidewalk. But now that she was in the middle of the fiercest girl fight of her life, there wasn’t time to do anything but grapple for the upper hand and try not to get her eyes scratched out. They rolled in front of a diner, and she hoped no one was taking pictures of their fight. Her white wool coat was surely stained beyond repair, but the feel of her own boyfriend’s leather jacket slapping against her cheek as the other woman pulled her hair gave her renewed strength. Four freaking days away from a proposal and already a beautiful brunette was wearing his jacket!
Christina launched herself, making them roll closer to the diner’s front door as she struggled to get on top of the woman. She’d either die from a door slamming her head or from this nutjob finishing her off. The woman’s nails dug into Christina’s neck, the stinging stab surely drawing blood. Somehow Christina managed to get on top of the woman and restrained her wrists above her head by putting her full weight on them.
“Get off me, you psycho,” the woman spat. Christina was momentarily startled as she met strangely familiar hazel eyes, which gave the woman enough time to get her wrists free and roll out from under her.
The woman stood and glared at her. She had a small pink handprint on her cheek from where Christina had slapped her. In hindsight, she probably should’ve slapped Griff instead. No word from him for four whole days, ignoring her voicemails, and then popping up in the gossip mags with two beautiful women. She recognized pop superstar Sydney Roy. Sydney was married, but that didn’t mean as much in the music world as it did in real life. And this one. This sexy young brunette was seen smiling and standing in Christina’s spot during an impromptu performance with Christina’s man. The headline from Griff’s own tweet said “At long last” like he was reunited with the love of his life. Her rage had built with alarming speed on the drive out here. Of course, her mom’s repeated texts asking who is this gorgeous woman with your Griffin? hadn’t helped.
Her breath was coming hard and her hands were in fists. That black leather jacket on another woman was driving her crazy! She reached out again, grabbing the sleeve to rip it off the woman when strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her away and back on the sidewalk.
Griff’s arms pinned Christ
ina’s arms to her sides. She was so relieved to be back in his arms that all the fight went out of her. The taller woman stepped onto the sidewalk in front of her and continued glaring. Christina gritted her teeth.
“Let her go, Griffin,” the brunette woman snarled. “I can take her.”
Griff piped up in an oddly cheerful voice. “Laila, I’d like you to meet Christina, the one and only crazy thing in my life. Christina, meet my half sister, Laila.”
A rare blush burned Christina’s cheeks. Now who was the idiot? But how was she supposed to know? Griff never mentioned a sister. He always said he had no family. Wait a minute.
She yanked free of Griff’s grip and turned to face him. “How do you know she’s your sister?”
He smoothed her hair, which was probably sticking up like crazy from that hellion. “She told me.”
“She told you? Really?” He couldn’t possibly be that naive. Everyone wanted to get close to him because of his fame.
He nodded. “And she knows the same songs I do. From our dad.”
“Like what?”
“Brown Eyed Girl.”
“Everyone knows that one!” Christina turned and narrowed her eyes at the woman claiming to be related to Griff. “I want to see your birth certificate. Some kind of ID. Maybe a DNA test.”
“You are crazy,” Laila said, pulling Griff’s leather jacket back in place over one shoulder.
“You’re not spending one more minute with him until you prove who you are!” Christina barked.
Laila pulled her wallet out of her purse and produced a driver’s license. “See? Laila Colton. Our dad’s Ron Colton.”
Christina turned to Griff. “Your dad’s Ron Colton? From the White Lions and the Chilies and the Deaf Trombones?”
“Yes,” Griff said quietly.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” Christina asked.
Griff’s mouth formed a flat line. “My dad and I weren’t close.”
Christina stared in shock for a moment. Ron Colton was well known for his talents as a kickass guitar player. In three years, Griff had never mentioned the connection or that he had a half sister. What else wasn’t he telling her?
Griff shook his head. “I can’t believe you slapped my sister.”
“What was I supposed to think?” Christina hollered. “She’s wearing your jacket.” She turned back to Laila. “She’s young and beautiful! She took my spot when you played!” Her eyes stung with an embarrassing rush of tears.
Laila gave her a small smile. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“You’re stunning,” Christina spat.
Laila turned to Griff. “I like her.”
Griff scowled. “Great. Now you can be best friends. Why do the women in my life have to be nuts?”
“Hey!” Christina and Laila said at the same time.
“Sorry I slapped you,” Christina said to Laila. “I should’ve slapped him.”
“Hey!” Griff protested.
Christina did a head swivel and advanced on Griff. “Four days I waited to hear from you.” She jabbed him in the chest, making him back up. “Four days you ignored my voicemails.” Another jab and he backed up against the wall of the diner. “I have to see you with two beautiful women. Oh, yes, I saw you with Sydney Roy. And the headlines announcing you’re cheating on your girlfriend after proposing. With no word from you! How do you think that makes me feel?”
“You said we were taking a break,” Griff said in a level tone that infuriated her.
Laila hissed out a breath.
“I said we needed some time apart to think!” Christina hollered.
“Sorry, babe,” Griff said. “My voicemail was full of calls from that Savage Release reporter, so I just stopped checking it.”
“I know! You blew off your interview this week completely. She’s been calling me too. Griff, do you have any idea what you put me through these past four days?”
“Does that mean you want to marry me?” he asked, infuriating her further.
“It means I would like to hear from the man I’ve been living with for the past three years!” She felt like she was talking to a brick wall. How were they ever supposed to move forward when Griff was stuck in this one marry-me track?
“I’ve been a little out of it,” Griff said.
“A little out of it?” Christina echoed, getting all up in his business, plastered against his front.
“Our dad died,” Laila said quietly.
All the anger left her in a whoosh. She turned to Laila. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Now she felt extra bad for slapping her. She turned to Griff. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Yeah.” He looked off in the distance. “I came to say goodbye.”
She wrapped her arms around him, and he hugged her back tightly. “I’m so sorry. See, this is why you need to tell me things. Why didn’t you call me? You didn’t have to go through this alone.”
“I thought you were done with me,” Griff said hoarsely.
“I’m not,” she said over the lump in her throat.
Laila spoke up. “Does this mean you’re leaving?”
“We could hang for a while, right, babe?” Griff asked Christina. “It’d be cool to celebrate my birthday with family.”
Christina mentally reviewed Griff’s schedule. He had some time off between gigs since they’d planned to spend his birthday at a resort in Mexico. But, what the hell, how often did Griff ever get the chance to spend his birthday with a long-lost sister? She had to admit she did see the resemblance—same hazel eyes, adorable nose, and kissable mouth. Not that she wanted to kiss Laila.
“His birthday is the seventeenth,” Christina told Laila. “A little less than two weeks away. Think you can stand us that long?”
Laila’s face lit up with a smile. “I’d love it! We could make it a big party. Griff, you want to play? I know everyone in town would love to hear you.”
Griff turned to Christina. “What do you think?”
“It’s a small venue,” Christina replied, looking around the tiny downtown area.
“He could play the Greenport Theater,” Laila said. “That’s where our dad played his first big gig.”
“Let’s tie it to a charitable cause,” Christina said. “Everything he does gets press, and we don’t want word getting out that he’s doing free concerts.”
“I’ll send the proceeds to Horizon Village,” Griff said. That was the adult community for people with Down’s syndrome where Griff’s ex-wife’s brother lived. She loved that Griff had a trust established for his ex’s brother. It always reminded her no matter how messy relationships got with Griff, he still had his heart in the right place.
“Any hotels in this town?” Christina asked Laila.
“I have a hotel suite about an hour away,” Griff said.
“Let me check on a rental in Fieldridge,” Laila said. “Sometimes the mansions on the hill are second or third homes for the wealthy and they rent them out when they can’t sell.”
A few hours later, Christina and Griff were settled into their new rental, a large wood and glass A-frame house perched high on the hill with floor-to-ceiling windows in the front, giving a gorgeous view of the picturesque town. The living room furniture was casual and rustic—two beige sofas, two matching upholstered chairs, and wood end tables—arranged to take advantage of both the view on one side and the huge stone fireplace on an adjacent side.
Griff headed to the kitchen with its dark cherry cabinets and stainless steel appliances and started poking around. His black leather jacket was now—with Christina’s helpful reminder—off Laila, who wore her own dark green down coat with faux fur trim on the hood.
Christina thanked Laila for her help and walked her to the door, inviting her to return for dinner.
“I’d love to,” Laila said brightly. “I’ll bring takeout so you don’t have to worry about cooking.” Then she narrowed her eyes and whispered fiercely, “And don’t think I’ll forget that slap
,” before whirling and making a dramatic exit, the door slamming shut behind her.
Christina smiled to herself. She really liked that girl.
~ ~ ~
Laila drove back to her apartment still a little rattled from the day’s events. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Christina. On the one hand, the woman had complimented her. On the other hand, that slap! So outrageous! She hadn’t been in a brawl like that since high school.
She pulled up to her street and noticed her mom’s white Mercedes parked in her driveway. That was odd. She didn’t usually get home until seven or eight at night. It was only four thirty.
She parked in the street in front of her place and headed for the driveway.
Her mom got out of her car. “Hello,” she said in her usual brusque tone. She wore her white down parka, but instead of tailored pants and heels, she had on gray sweatpants and boots.
Laila stopped in front of her. Her mom wasn’t wearing makeup either, and her usual perfectly straight brown hair was tangled. “Are you sick?”
“No, I took a day off. I just…needed some time. Can we go inside?”
“Sure.” She led the way into her apartment, took off her coat, which wasn’t nearly as badass as her brother’s—damn Christina—and sat on her sofa.
Her mom sat primly in the chair with the embroidered flower cushion. She blinked, shook her head, and pulled her purse onto her lap. “Let’s get down to business.”
“Business?” Laila echoed.
“Yes. One of your father’s musician friends left a box of his things in my care yesterday. Apparently your dad frequently crashed at this guy’s apartment and left some things there.”
“Where’s the box? What was in it?”
Her mom bit her lip. “Pictures, mostly. Some small items from when he and I first met…” Her lower lip wobbled.
Laila crossed to her and gave her a sideways hug. Her mom patted her arm and pulled away. “So it appears he left you some money.”
Almost Fate Page 5