On The Way Down (The Retake Duet Book 1)

by Ella Fox

I didn’t get to think about it for long because the next thing I knew my eyes started drifting shut. Yawning, I gave in and decided to rest my eyes for five to ten minutes.

  At the sound of knocking on the door, I sat straight up in the bed. Disoriented, I looked around the room as I tried to get my bearings. I wasn’t in my townhome bedroom in Moab or even in my old bedroom in Burbank. I rubbed at the sleep in my eyes as another knock came. That’s when my brain clicked into gear and I remembered I was in Vegas.

  I yawned again as I hurried to the door, where the knocking had gone from every few seconds to being nonstop. Flinging the door open, I found Garrett at my doorstep. He grinned as he took in my disheveled state. “You’re a regular Rip Van Winkle,” he joked. “I’d let you sleep but I’ve got a surprise for you.” As he spoke, he moved to the right and gestured to someone.

  When my grandmother stepped into my doorway, I lost it. I shrieked as I reached out and pulled her into the room so we could hug. She patted my back as we rocked back and forth.

  “I thought I wasn’t seeing you until tomorrow,” I squeaked.

  “I wasn’t positive I could get the night off until just a few hours ago. I’d told Garrett I’d let him know if I could swing it and once I called him and said it was a go he suggested I surprise you. I’m going to spend the night here with you.”

  I hugged her harder. “This is the best surprise ever!”

  “It gets better,” she announced. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Tia is driving home tomorrow and she’ll be at my house for breakfast on Sunday.”

  Tia was my very best friend and I hadn’t seen her since Christmas. She was staying at her dad’s in Flagstaff for the summer so I hadn’t expected to see her while I was in town. Knowing that she was coming was the cherry on top of the sundae as far as I was concerned.

  “I can’t believe this—it’s perfect!” I laughed.

  “It is,” Goldie agreed. “We’ve all missed you terribly, peanut breath.”

  I groaned and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I told you not to call me that in front of other people anymore.”

  She laughed as she let me go. “There’s nothing wrong with your nickname.”

  I wrinkled my nose as I realized Garrett was taking it all in. “Look what you’ve done,” I said as I gestured to him. “He’s wondering what kind of weirdo I am that my granny calls me peanut breath.”

  Goldie snorted as she playfully smacked my bottom. “Call me Granny again and being called peanut breath will be the least of your problems.”

  “I have to admit that I’m curious about how she earned the name peanut breath,” Garrett said. As he spoke, he took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the window that looked out onto the strip while Goldie and I sat next to each other on the couch.

  Knowing that she’d be sharing a story about what a goofy kid I’d been, I groaned with embarrassment.

  “The summer of her sixth grade year my little genius got it into her head that she couldn’t eat meat, fish, or chicken anymore. At the time, Shaelyn wasn’t big on vegetables so those were out. She decided that she could survive on her favorite food—which, at the time, was peanut butter. I’m sure by now you know her well enough to not be surprised to hear that she’s so stubborn that she managed to do it for far longer than anyone expected. Eleven days passed before she caved. The first thing she asked for—”

  “Was a glass of milk,” I laughed. “My strict peanut butter, bread, orange juice, and water diet sucked. I pretty much inhaled all the food in the world over the next few days. Eggs, chicken, pork, shrimp, I ate it all. Still, I swore I could taste peanut butter on my breath for the next few months. To this day, I’ll wake up in the middle of the night thinking I taste peanut butter.”

  “Do you hate it now?” Garrett asked with a laugh.

  “No, but I don’t love it either. The peanut butter I ate during my ‘diet’ was Skippy and to this day, I get queasy if I catch a whiff of it. I switched to Jif and that’s been fine.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Jesus, Shae. Why didn’t you say anything? You’ve been buying me jars of Skippy ever since you started. I’ll throw away the Skippy and you can start buying Jif. I really wish you’d said something.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s not a problem. Besides, it’s your preferred brand and that’s all that matters.”

  He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Effective immediately we’re switching to Jif. I’ll tell Harry.”

  I loved when he used the word we. What I didn’t love was that our time was winding down. Every day that passed got Guns Out closer to wrapping and I worried about what would happen once it was over. While I’d be sad to lose my job, what upset me most was the knowledge that I’d lose Garrett, too.

  With Goldie there I refused to go down that road, so I shook off those heavy thoughts and focused on the great things that were happening.

  Chapter Thirteen

  July 1998

  The day at the spa with Goldie was one of the most relaxing experiences I’d ever had. We’d gotten facials, massages, manicures, reflexology foot massages followed by pedicures, haircuts, conditioning treatments, and blowouts. After all that, we’d met up with Garrett and Harry for an early dinner. The plan had been for Goldie to leave after that but Nolan was recovering from the night before. This was because he’d eaten dinner at a seafood buffet with three of his LA friends who had flown in for a quick visit. The two people who had eaten the crab legs—Nolan and his friend Eric—had stopped vomiting but were by no means ready to go out. Because of this Goldie was going with us to Pearl Jam and there was some concern about Nolan being able to fly back to Moab on Sunday morning. Garrett had Harry get a doctor out, and he’d said that Nolan would be okay, but until I saw it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it.

  Thus far, the highlight of the trip for me had been spending time with Goldie—especially having her meet with Garrett. They got along like a house on fire, so much so that it had been Garrett’s idea to have her come to Pearl Jam. My grandmother thought Eddie Vedder was a “beautiful man with a golden voice” and she wasn’t one to turn down concerts, so it was an easy yes.

  Dressed in a pair of black jean shorts, my black Vans, and a faded blue cotton shirt, I surveyed myself in the mirror. The conditioning treatment, haircut, and blowout at the spa had left my hair smooth, healthy looking and shiny, so I decided not to put it up, even though I knew at some point during the show I’d make use of the black scrunchie on my wrist. Concerts were hot, which meant my hair would need to go up, but I wasn’t about to do so before it was absolutely necessary. My makeup was the usual, simple, quick, and easy.

  “You look beautiful, peanut breath,” Goldie said. As she spoke, there was a knock at my door. Knowing that it was Harry and Garrett, we both went to answer it. I tried to keep my attraction to Garrett off my face as we joined them in the hallway. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, a white Ramones tee shirt, a pair of black Doc Martens, and a Rolling Stones hat. As usual, he looked and smelled amazing. He smiled down at me as we began the trek through the hotel to the car. Behind us, I heard Harry and Goldie talking about the bachelor party he was planning. She’d mentioned during dinner that she was the assistant manager at Full Flush and Harry immediately had questions because he was in charge of his brother’s pre-wedding weekend. I really liked that Garrett and Harry didn’t look at Goldie any differently because of where she worked. I’d learned early that trying to hide what she did only led to uncomfortable situations, so I hadn’t bothered. If Garrett had gotten weird about her, I would’ve lost a lot of respect for him, so I was glad that didn’t happen.

  The Thomas and Mack Center where the concert was being held wasn’t far from the hotel, but traffic in Vegas at night could be tricky. There was no reason to complain since we made the journey in another long black limousine. In the car Harry and Goldie each drank beers from the wet bar, but Garrett chose not to. I did the same when Goldie
held one out to me. I’d been allowed to drink in front of her since I was fifteen, which was probably one of the reasons alcohol wasn’t a big deal with me. I could take it or leave it, so I mostly left it. I didn’t go to parties and drinking alone sounded boring as hell, so alcohol held no appeal.

  Like any good concertgoers, we listened to the band we were going to see during the trip. Garrett and I both laughed as Goldie and Harry started singing Not For You completely off-key. I shivered when he leaned over to speak to me, his facial scruff rubbing against my cheek. “Imagine these two being the ones who sang to you on the plane yesterday. Think it would’ve had the same effect?” he joked.

  “Being serenaded by two people who sing like dying cats would’ve made me even crazier. I’d have gotten off and walked,” I deadpanned.

  He chuckled as he jabbed at me once, softly, with his elbow. “I’m glad it was me.”

  I looked up into his eyes and nodded. “Only you could have calmed me,” I admitted.

  His brown eyes flared with heat as he stared at me. For countless seconds we were the only two people in the limo, right up until the moment the door next to Garrett opened. I blinked in confusion as I realized that not only had we stopped, but the music was off. My grandmother and Harry were watching us with similar looks of bemusement, which I assumed was because we hadn’t realized we’d arrived. Garrett recovered first, stepping out of the car in one fluid movement before he turned and held his hand out for me. I knew it was meant to be nothing more than an assist while I got out, but our fingers laced together as if it were the most natural thing in the world. We stayed linked even after I was out of the car and standing on solid ground. Only when Harry and Goldie were out of the limo did we separate, and I frowned as I folded my arms over my chest. How was it possible to miss touching someone after only a few seconds of contact?

  The concert was epic and Garrett’s Rolling Stones hat was effective. No one looked at him as we made our way to the front row, and that continued through the show.

  We got back to the hotel well after midnight because in addition to amazing seats, we’d also gotten backstage passes. I knew I’d never forget meeting the band—and not just because Harry got pictures. No, one of the memories that would stay with me hadn’t been captured, but it would be with me forever. While talking to Eddie, Garrett had pulled me into his side and asked him if he’d be willing to take requests for the next show we attended, because my very favorite song was Release, and they hadn’t done it.

  I was floored, and not just because Garrett had his arm around my waist. I could only recall mentioning once—in passing—that Release was my favorite Pearl Jam song. That he’d retained that blew me away. I leaned into him and smiled up at Eddie as he promised Garrett that they’d do it the next time he brought me to a show.

  To hell with the song—right then I was thinking about the fact that Guns Out was almost finished filming, but clearly Garrett still saw us being connected in the future. That was better than all the Pearl Jam concerts in the world.

  My ears were still doing that after-show ringing thing as I flopped down on my bed back at the hotel. The mattress was so perfect that it barely moved when Goldie climbed on and got comfortable against the headboard. As she crossed one ankle over the other, she looked over and gave me a weird smile.

  “What’s that look for?” I asked.

  “You and that boy are head over heels in love,” she declared.

  “I, no, we, who, I… what boy are you even talking about?” I spluttered.

  “Tone down the stupid, peanut breath. I’m talking about you and Mr. Movie Star. I’ve had my suspicions for a while now because of some things you said, but seeing it up close and personal wrapped it up in a bow. I was positive when I saw the way he looks at you and the way you look at him that something is happening.”

  “I think you’re seeing things,” I countered.

  Her eyes sparkled as she snort-laughed. “My vision is as perfect as it’s ever been. You want to lie and tell me you aren’t in love with him?”

  I felt my cheeks heat as I shook my head. “That part I admit,” I said grudgingly. “I’m just not dumb enough to think for even a second that he feels the same way.”

  “Pshaw. That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. Look at him, Shaelyn. Pay attention to the hundreds of little looks he throws your way in a day, or the way he rushes to open doors for you, or how he hangs on your every word. Don’t let the fame or the money fool you—he’s all in.”

  “He’s twenty-six,” I blurted.

  Goldie arched one of her perfectly shaped brows. “I’m perfectly aware of how old he is. It doesn’t change anything.”

  I frowned. “He’s never so much as made any kind of move on me.”

  “I knew that, honey.”

  I gave her a look.

  “How?”

  “Because you promised me when you were thirteen that you’d tell me when you decided to become sexually active. You haven’t broken a promise to me yet, so I know nothing has happened.”

  I let out a dry laugh. She was right—when I made the decision to lose my virginity, I’d tell her. “It doesn’t bother you that he’s older than I am?”

  She shrugged. “You love each other and he makes you happy. That’s what is most important. I was a little concerned when I realized you’d fallen in love with someone who’s eight and a half years older than you are but I quickly got over it. He cares enough to wait to do anything until you’re of age, and that says a lot about what kind of man he is.”

  I sighed and looked away. “He hasn’t said or done anything definitive so for all I know, he doesn’t want to do anything.”

  Goldie laughed as though I’d cracked the most hilarious joke ever. “I’d wager fifty dollars’ worth of afternoon lap dances that’s because you’re seventeen—but in twenty-nine days that won’t be true anymore. Mark my words, things are going to change.”

  “The flaw in your logic is that we won’t even see each other on a regular basis once filming ends in nineteen days,” I countered.

  “He’s not giving you up in nineteen days,” she snickered. “Trust me, peanut breath. This isn’t a crush or some illicit attraction.”

  I blew out a breath as I stared up at the ceiling. “I hope you’re right. I guess we’ll see.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  July 1998

  Brunch at Goldie’s with my friend Tia, along with Garrett, Nolan, and Harry had been a big success. Poor Nolan had to eat saltines while alternating between sips of Gatorade and ginger ale, but that was a huge improvement from the previous day. Having Tia interact with Garrett was a little strange. Although she wasn’t one of the girls who idolized him, she was still human and there was a huge celebrity having lunch with her. I blame her nerves on the fact that she blurted out that prior to Garrett our last interaction with a celebrity had been Wayne Newton. She further advised that there was a photo of us with him on the bookcase in the hallway outside of my old bedroom. Naturally, Garrett got nosy. The next thing I knew he and I were standing in my childhood room.

  “It’s sweet that your grandmother hasn’t changed anything in here,” Garrett said as he looked around and took it all in.

  I was a little embarrassed that she hadn’t because what he was seeing wasn’t anything I’d have voluntarily shown him. The corkboard wall behind my desk was full of pieces of paper that contained lyrics that I liked. Each one had been written in colorful marker, which made them stand out even more. He looked them over as if they contained some clue of who I was—and in a way, they did.

  “In my defense, I did all that between the ages of nine and thirteen. I don’t keep a lyric wall anymore.”

  He chuckled as he glanced over at me. “I think it’s adorable. I don’t know of a lot of nine-year-olds who would jot down song lyrics.”

  “Before that I kept lists of books I’d read,” I admitted. “The Babysitter’s Club, Sweet Valley High, even the Goosebumps books. I was a nerd
y kid.”

  “No you weren’t—you were interesting. Goldie’s shrine to you in the hallway shows that in spades. I think you’ve always had personality.”

  I knew I was blushing as I turned away. “Or something like that,” I mumbled.

  “Definitely something,” he smiled.

  “Hey. The limo is back and I’ve got to get to the airport ASAP,” Harry announced from the door.

  Unaware that so much time had passed, I ran into the living room to say goodbye to Goldie and Tia.

  “I’m going to try to come back for at least a week after filming wraps,” I told them. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get Jewel to okay it but if she says no, you’re definitely coming to LA for my birthday, right?”

  Tia snickered. “Of course—but couldn’t we just kidnap you permanently so that she isn’t an issue anymore?”

  Goldie grimaced as she rubbed her hand against my cheek. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll speak to my daughter. You’re always with me for your birthdays, so that’s how it will be this year, too. Jewel got her way about Moab but there’s nothing stopping you from vacationing with your family. I’ll drive to LA with Tia to pick you up. After that we can go to Santa Monica for a few days, and then we’ll come back here. Wouldn’t it be nice to spend some time at the beach?”

  I nodded as I hugged her. “As long as we’re together, I’ll be happy.”

  Jewel had missed more than her fair share of my birthdays but I’d never celebrated one without Goldie and I wasn’t about to start. I was so invested in the conversation that I momentarily forgot that we had an audience. When I saw the thunderous look on Garrett’s face I sprung into action, sped up the goodbyes, and hustled us out the door, hoping he’d forget all that he’d heard. If Jewel found out anything derogatory had been said about her in front of him, she’d lose the few marbles she had left.