The doorbell rang, and I smiled at his scared expression. "Ready, cowboy?"
"I'll be listening for the eight-second bell," he laughed, as I swatted his bottom.
Chapter 13
Martin was waiting in the limo and gave Tennyson a cold greeting. He handed me some talking points about my upcoming run on Broadway. I noticed how most of them mentioned how excited I was to work with Barton Kirk. Martin began speaking to Tennyson about what was expected of him tonight.
"Jules will exit from the car first, and then you'll stand with her for about one minute. You will walk away and come to the end of the media line and stand with me. Jules will make her way down the line, and you will enter the theater together. After the movie, you will head out the back and Jules will come out the front and meet you at the after party."
“He’s coming out the front with me,” I corrected Martin.
“You have to walk to the after-party with Barton,” Martin corrected.
“Fine, I’ll walk with Barton as I hold Tenn’s hand.”
Martin glared at Tennyson causing him to clear his throat and say, "I may look like a sissy, but I'll clean your clock if you speak to her disrespectfully."
I turned to address Tennyson, not Martin. “That macho crap doesn’t work here, Tenn. You can’t punch someone and come to an understanding. They will sue your ass so fast you will spend the next few years in court.”
“Jules, if there is trouble tonight, they will replace you faster than you can say, end of a career,” Martin reminded me.
“There isn’t going to be any trouble, right, Tenn?” He nodded and looked away from me. I was sure he was feeling emasculated and out of his element, and I could only hope he would find something enjoyable about the night.
The car pulled into the line, and I waited nervously for our turn to exit. I glanced at Tennyson, and he seemed so resigned. He looked almost hopeless, and I wanted to turn the car around and go home where I could hold him and love him.
When the door opened, he moved quickly to be the first one out and then held his hand out for mine. Martin glared at me, and I whispered, "He's just a gentleman." I took his hand and exited the car to loud screams and cheers from waiting fans. I wrapped one arm around Tennyson and used my other arm to wave vigorously. He instantly stuck his thumb in the waist of his pants, and I spoke without moving my mouth. "Get your hand out of your pants."
He gave me a shocked look and then laughed, and I hoped that would be the picture used of him. I moved us forward and stood in front of the backdrop for the photographers to get their pictures. "Hey, Tennyson," someone yelled, and Tenn pointed at a photographer and said, "Hey, Bill."
All the photographers began yelling his name at that point, so Martin quickly ushered him away. He walked him too close to the media line, and someone reached out and grabbed his arm.
“Mr. Weller, can I have a moment?”
"Sure," Tennyson said and leaned in to hear the young woman reporter.
“How’s your brother?”
“Doing well, he’s healing faster than projected, but Royal has always been a stud.”
"There's a video of you circulating the internet, would you care to comment on it?" Tennyson's jaw tightened, and he glared at the reporter, but she wouldn't back down. "What does Jules think of the video?"
He glanced at her hand to see a wedding ring and said, “What do you think of who your husband was blown by years ago?”
She smirked at him, knowing she was getting prime coverage and had him against the ropes. “It’s not all over the internet.”
"I was a single man; I had sex. I don't see your point."
“It surfaced when you were seeing Jules, did it upset her?”
“Jules knows she better.”
I grabbed his arm and pulled him with me toward the theater. When we got inside, I turned to him with tears in my eyes. "Are you insane?"
“What?” he asked, “I was defending you.”
“You made it sound like you just announced to the world I give great blow jobs,” I said with wild eyes. “My parents will hear this.”
“What was I supposed to do, she asked if the video upset you? You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You walk away without commenting. That is what you do.”
"I never get asked shit like this. I get asked about the ride, and that is it. I didn't expect this."
"I know, because you are the big hero and they want to perpetuate the image. Here they want to find any fault and pick it apart. I told you the press could be brutal."
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked angrily.
“No, just shut your mouth,” I said back just as angrily.
Martin grabbed me by the arm and Tennyson instinctually stepped forward, so I pushed him back. "Go find our seats, Tenn. I have to talk to the press."
I watched him walk away and noticed how out of place he seemed. My heart ached for him, and I knew how foreign everything was feeling. Martin led me outside, and I tried my best to do damage control. I introduced myself to Barton in front of the cameras, and we smiled and kissed each other's cheek just as instructed.
The movie was starting when I made it to my seat. Tennyson leaned on his elbow away from me, and we didn't speak through the entire film. When the lights came on, he said softly, "I'll go to the back and let you create the image you need to create."
“Don’t, Tenn, please.”
He stood and walked away as I stared in silence. Barton walked up to my aisle and held out his arm. I tried to smile as we walked out of the theater in front of all the cameras. We both spoke of how much we looked forward to working together, but my anxiety was building quickly.
When we got to the party, I looked around for Tennyson, but I didn't see him anywhere. I finally found Martin, "Where's Tennyson?" I asked.
"He's around here somewhere; maybe he is in the restroom."
I relaxed a bit and began making the rounds to acknowledge various celebrities. I was photographed with the right people and made it a point to stand by Barton as much as possible. The champagne was lifting the heaviness around my heart, and I began enjoying the party. When they played one of my songs, I danced with a group of girls, laughing and carrying on like I didn't have a care in the world. It was almost midnight when I realized I never found Tennyson. I looked around in a panic and rushed out to grab a cab.
I began to cry when I saw his truck gone from my driveway. I walked into the house feeling so alone, just as he had tried to tell me he was feeling. His clothes were folded on the table with a note attached.
I'm sorry, Jules. I ruined your big night, and I only meant to support you. I don't understand the image you must cultivate; I think you are perfect the way you are. My heart longs for home, and yours longs for the road. It is not something we can work out because I want a wife and family that never leaves or changes. It hurts so badly because I want it with you. I wish you luck and hope you find all you want in life. My heart will love you always.
I read the note over and over as I cried on my bed... my stupid suspended bed. Eric showed up the next morning and lay with me as I cried. “I have to let him go, but it hurts,” I admitted.
“Are you sure he wasn’t just a novelty?” Eric asked,
"He was attractive, and sexy, and funny, and so giving, but the thing I liked the most was I felt loved. He would fight the whole world just for me, and I know that is macho and stupid, but it was natural for him. I was always first in his mind, even when we made love, it was all about me."
“So, go after him,” Eric said, knowing I couldn’t.
“He wants to get married. He wants to raise little cowboys on his family ranch. I’m not letting my kids fall off sheep and eat steak every night.”
“So, why are you here crying?”
“Because, no matter how different we are, I love him.”
“He loves you too, Chica. And he proved it by leaving.”
I burst into tears and felt my heart breaking in two. He was
strong enough to do the right thing, and that made me love him even more.
The press was rabid in their assault on Tennyson. They called him a Cowboy Casanova and bought the story about him breaking my heart and Barton picking up the pieces. I hoped Tennyson didn’t hear the stories, but he was so focused on his title I doubted it. He was entering every event he could and riding with a broken finger. Russell Tarwater was now feeling the pressure and having to step up his game, too.
I finished the tour and started my run on Broadway. I loved New York, and the constant energy helped me forget about Tennyson. My parents surprised me by showing up one night. We went to a late dinner after the show, and I tried to pretend everything was perfect.
“What happened with the bull rider?” my father asked.
“Nothing, he’s doing quite well,” I answered honestly.
“He seemed like a solid guy,” Walter mumbled.
“Yeah, he was cool,” I said nonchalantly.
“Did you tell him no?” he pushed.
"Dad, I'm not talking about my sex life," I growled and watched his jaw clench.
“I meant his proposal. He called me for permission.”
I felt the blood drain from my face and my mouth went dry. “What?” I said softly.
“He said you came and stayed with his family, and he was going to propose and come meet us. What happened?”
“He never proposed,” I said honestly.
“That’s odd,” my mother added.
"No, it isn't odd. I think he just saw how different we are and changed his mind. He is very old-fashioned," I said and noticed my parents look at each other. "He rides bulls," I exclaimed, to make them side with me. "I don't want a guy on the verge of death all the time."
"I asked him about that, and he said he doesn't plan to do it forever," my father said in defense of Tennyson.
“He wants his children to do it, and that is even worse.”
“So, are you seeing your costar?” Marilyn asked.
"No, I'm working on my career. I've had offers for a few movie roles, nothing I would consider, but offers are at least coming in." They both nodded politely, and I wanted to throw my soup on them. "I'm not sure I will come home for Thanksgiving this year. I need to stop by my house and check on things, and I only have the two extra days off."
My father nodded and then said something to stun me, “You might want to check out Buffalo.”
I already knew Tennyson would be in Buffalo; I didn't know how my father knew. I tried not to seem too interested and only nodded and said softly, "I'm pretty busy."
We said our goodbyes and I ran to my hotel and called Eric the second I got in my room. I knew it was late, but I prayed he would be awake.
“Hello?” he answered sleepily.
“Are you awake?” I asked.
“I’m with someone,” he said quietly.
"I need you right now, Eric," I yelled, and heard a man laugh.
"She's a drama queen," Eric said to someone and walked where he could talk.
“He called my father and asked if he could propose,” I said so fast I wondered if he understood me.
“Was it part of the plan or did Barton do it on his own?”
“Not Barton. Tennyson.”
“You’re still seeing Tennyson?” he gasped.
“No, I’m talking about back in August. Would you pay attention?”
“What does it matter what he wanted in August? That was another lifetime ago,” he pointed out.
“He’ll be in Buffalo for Thanksgiving, should I go see him?”
“You’re not coming home? I want you to meet Vince,” he said with disappointment.
"I hate Thanksgiving with the whole slaughter of animals, so you can glutton yourself for being able to stand your family."
“I’m making a tofu turkey and plan on eating sparingly, now that Vince is seeing me naked.”
"Well, nobody is seeing me naked, so I would stuff myself," I said bitterly.
“I see,” he laughed. “You want the cowboy to give you some Jules time, make it all about you to get your groove back.”
“You think? Maybe? No, I don’t want to have sex with him,” I said adamantly, knowing sex with Tennyson would make the whole holiday.
“Go see him, get him out of your system and rail on his perfect ass for calling your father. How stuck in the fifties is he? Calling for your hand, how barbarian.”
I felt selfish for making the conversation all about my problems, so I turned the emphasis onto him. "Tell me about Vince?"
"He's beautiful, and he likes my taste in artwork."
“Oh God, you better hold onto him. What does he do?”
“He does me,” Eric laughed.
“He wants to be an actor, doesn’t he? I told you to stay away from those,” I said with concern for my friend’s heart.
"He's on a soap opera; keep it quiet."
"He's not out of the closet, come on, Eric, you know better than that!"
“He’s out; the producers just want it quiet.”
I shook my head in disgust. The Hollywood lifestyle was supposed to be liberal and open to all choices, but, it was a town run by old men. Men terrified of losing a dollar from the Midwestern product-purchasing population.
“How screwed up is our world, Eric?”
“No sir, Bitch, don’t start judging because your cowboy is close. Save that Tammy Wynette shit for the Rodeo.”
"I'm lonely, Eric," I admitted.
“I thought you loved New York?”
“I did, at first, now it’s just…crowded.”
"You can't be lonely in a crowded place unless you are lonely on purpose. You're aching for the cowboy, and you know it."
I wondered why Eric was pushing me toward Tennyson. He used to be terrified Tennyson would take me away and now he was encouraging it. I knew it had something to do with Vince. He found someone he wanted to make permanent and needed me to find my own life.
“Eric, hang onto Vince, and I’ll come meet him soon, I promise.”
“Are you going to Buffalo?” he asked, and I was silent for a moment.
“Yeah, I’m going to Buffalo.”
Chapter 14
I read up on the Wellers and screamed out loud when I saw Royal would be in Buffalo, too. He wasn’t working, only coming to see Tennyson. I worried when I read Russell Tarwater would be there. I didn’t want Tennyson losing focus by having me hanging around.
I saw a few pictures of Tennyson with various women, but it didn’t faze me. I knew what he looked like when he was in love, and his face never had that look. I assumed he was relieving tension before rides and wanted to believe he was still dreaming of me. I wasn't sure if I were going to let him know I would be there, or surprise him.
Tennyson decided for me when Martin walked into my dressing room after the last performance before the holiday. "Did you see your cowboy showed up?"
“He’s here?” I asked and jumped up from my chair.
"No, he left. I observed him; made sure he didn't cause any problems, but he just left along with the crowd."
“He wouldn’t cause any problems,” I said in anger. “You should have told me.”
"He obviously didn't want to see you. He never asked to come backstage, and I called the hotel, he didn't stop by there either."
I felt tears sting my eyes and I began removing my makeup harshly. Martin continued to stare at me, and I looked at him accusingly. "What?" I asked.
"Are you going home for Thanksgiving? I haven't made any travel plans for you."
“No, I’m staying here. I want to rest and see a bit of the city.”
"Barton's going to Florida; we could have you visit," Martin threw out, to see if I would be receptive.
"Get out," I said softly and went back to my mirror.
I stayed in my room the entire day on Thanksgiving and ate out of a vending machine. I debated on what to do about Tennyson. He obviously didn’t want to see me, so I needed to keep my
visit quiet, too. I purchased a ticket for the Saturday event, wanting to see him ride bulls not broncs and booked a room at a local hotel.
I was such a girl about the whole thing, wanting to wear something sexy so he would want me, but also not wanting to stand out in the crowd. I settled for jeans and a light jacket with a low-cut t-shirt. I found some cute fashion boots, not western boots, to complete the outfit.
I arrived early, and the arena was only sparsely populated. I was staring at the numbers over the various entrances trying to find my section when someone called my name. My head snapped around quickly to see Cherry walking toward me.
“I didn’t know you would be here?” she said sweetly, and I felt anger building inside me.
"Are you filming me?" I asked hatefully. "I mean; I want to know if you're getting my best side or not."
“Sorry about that, but some friends were trying to get even with me over something. I had nothing to do with it,” she lied.
“Whatever,” I said, and went back to looking at the numbers.
“The whole family is here, we had Thanksgiving together,” she gushed.
“Nice, excuse me,” I said rudely, and walked away.
I was shaking with anger, and feared she would tell Tennyson I was here. I didn't want to see him until after he rode and could decide then if it was a good idea or not. I walked into the large center and smelled the familiar smell and saw the casual look of the chutes and judging tables. The arena had family boxes reserved, and I saw the Wellers large area right next to the alleyway.
The place began filling with spectators, and I kept my face down with little worry of being recognized. I saw Merritt, Miriam, and Aunt Katherine enter their box, and I had to fight back the tears. I knew seeing Royal would push me right over the edge, so I looked away.
The day started with the barrel racing, and I was so anxious to see Amylia ride. Before the event began, they announced Royal was in attendance, and the crowd went wild. He stood from the box and waved proudly. He looked strong and healthy, and I wanted to hug him so badly. I saw Bethany wearing a tight maternity top, looking gorgeous as always.
The racing went on without much excitement until Amylia was announced. The crowd loved her, and I cheered right along with them. She came flying across the starting line and circled the first two barrels with ease, but as Georgia ran toward the center barrel, he pulled away and stumbled a couple of times before falling on his side. Amylia jumped free of the horse as the crowd screamed in shock. I saw Morgan run into the ring and Royal climbed over the railing and down into the arena. Amylia was crying, and Royal pulled her into his arms as Morgan ran to the fallen horse.
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