The Essential Jagged Ivory (Jagged Ivory Boxed Set)

by Lashell Collins

  “I know that. But unfortunately, I don't need my mommy right now, Mike. I need my wife.”

  Mike nodded his head. “Is what you said on the phone true? Did you talk to Donna for over an hour last night?”

  “Yes. Just like every night,” Cory confirmed.

  “And she gave you no indication that anything was wrong?”

  “No. Nothing is wrong between us,” he said firmly. And the minute he said the words, he remembered his conversation with Noah from a couple of weeks ago as his stomach tied itself into a knot. “Nothing is wrong between us,” he repeated softly, looking down at the countertop.

  “Well, I know there's a time difference, and she's probably in the middle of filming but … you need to talk to her as soon as possible,” Mike said. “And then once you do, and you get this thing straightened out, you let me know what you two want the statement to say and I'll get it taken care of. Alright?”

  Cory nodded his head, once again thankful for Mike's presence and his willingness to jump in and help. The band's publicist usually handled things like statements to the press, but Mike often acted as a liaison between Jagged Ivory and their publicist.

  Mike left the room and went back outside then, and Cory sat for a moment just trying to wrap his head around everything. He stood up and slowly made his way down the hall to the bathroom. Once there, he turned on the water and splashed the cool liquid on his face, taking a few deep breaths and trying to calm his nerves. He needed to talk to Donna. Just to hear her voice for a moment.

  He dried his face on the hand towel hanging by the sink. Then he slowly pulled his cellphone out and stared at it for a moment. So many missed calls in such a short amount of time, and not one of them from his wife. What the hell was going on? He had fallen asleep last night running their sexy conversation and their mutual declarations of love and devotion through his mind. Now, less than twenty-four hours later, he had been made to question the love he knew she felt for him. All with one little picture.

  He moved his thumb to speed dial the number. And as it rang he realized that he was holding his breath. It rang forever before finally going to voicemail. And he closed his eyes and savored the sound of her voice as he listened to her voicemail message.

  “Hey, baby, it's me. Listen … I'm not sure if you've seen any news or not today, but you are causing quite a stir,” he said, trying to smile to make his voice sound lighter. “I've been fielding calls from your mom, and my sisters, and the press. Mike says we need to release a statement to the press as soon as we can in order to diffuse all the rumors, so I really need you to call me as soon as you can, okay? I love you, Donna.”

  He put away his phone and took another deep breath, letting it out slowly. As he opened the door and made his exit from the bathroom, he ran right into Noah coming down the hallway.

  “Hey, man. I was looking for you,” his friend said with a concerned gaze. “Your mom's kinda worried; she sent me in.”

  Cory rolled his eyes slightly, smirking at him. “She's going to drive me nuts over this.”

  “She's just worried, man. We all are.”

  “Well, don't be. Everything's fine. I just called and left a message on Donna's phone. I'm sure she's probably in the middle of shooting right now, but she'll get back to me as soon as she can,” Cory said matter-of-factly.

  “Okay,” Noah nodded as he followed Cory back down the hallway. “Hey, Cory? You know if you need to talk …”

  “I know, man,” Cory nodded, looking his friend in the eye. “And I appreciate it.”

  They made their way back outside then, and Cory tried his best to smile and laugh and eat a plate of food with his extended family as he pretended that everything was right with the world. He hoped his performance was convincing. But on the inside, he was a storm cloud brewing, a swirling mass of darkness and fear and uncertainty looming on the horizon.

  He snuck away from the cookout to call Donna once more, with the same result. And by the time the dinner party was over and he and his mom were back in his car and headed home, he was an emotional wreck on the inside. He said next to nothing on the drive back to her place, and thankfully, neither did she. When he walked her to the door, she turned to him and placed her hand on his face.

  “I know it will all work itself out,” she smiled at him.

  He nodded his head and smiled ruefully at her. She kissed his cheek and then turned to go inside. “Hey, Mom?” She stopped and turned to look at him once more. “Thanks for being my date today,” he said quietly, and she blew a kiss at him.

  When he finally walked through the door of his own home, Cory was exhausted. More mentally than physically but, exhausted none the less. He stared at his favorite picture of Donna, which hung on the wall across the room, as he stripped out of his clothes and walked toward the bathroom. He stepped into the shower with a mind clouded by questions, and as the hot water ran over his body, all he could think about was her. Where was she? What was she doing? Who was she with? Why the hell had she still not called him back?

  He got out of the shower and dried himself off, dressed in a pair of cotton briefs and went to the kitchen to grab himself a beer from the fridge. He called her cellphone once more. Still no answer.

  Picking up his guitar, he settled down on the bed and began picking out a melody that was floating around in his head. He liked it. It was bluesy and soulful and sort of sad, mirroring the way he was feeling at the moment. Maybe it would turn into something. Opening the drawer in the bedside table, he picked up his tiny digital recorder and turned it on. Then he played the melody again, making sure to record it. He would let Noah have a listen and see where it went from there. Most of the songs they wrote together began in this way, with a random melody or riff from either Noah's head or his.

  He tinkered with the tune in his head for a while, and when he tired of that, he turned on the television and started flipping through channels. His heart did flip flops when he suddenly saw his wife's face on the screen again, and he stopped. He set the remote down as he watched an entire rerun episode of Model for Murder, his eyes glued to the screen. He knew it was silly, but he just needed to see her. To hear her voice and watch her move, see her smile, hear her laugh. When the episode was over, he glanced at the clock on the wall. It would soon be time for their nightly video chat.

  He felt a ripple of excitement run through him as he gathered his laptop and logged in. He tried to occupy his mind for the few moments of time lag by surfing the Internet, but he couldn't concentrate on anything but Donna. Anxiously he watched the clock as the minutes ticked down to seconds. Finally, he couldn't stand it. He made the video call, clicking on her email address and waiting for the device to make the connection. He frowned when the message popped up saying that Donna wasn't available at this time. Perhaps she was just running late and hadn't turned her computer on yet. He waited five minutes and tried again. Still no Donna. Ten minutes later he clicked on her cellphone number thinking maybe she just wasn't near her computer for some reason. But she always had her phone on her, right? Only he got no answer there either.

  An hour and a half, and two more beers later, he was still trying to connect with his wife. He had given up on video chatting and had resorted to calling her cellphone over and over again. By one thirty in the morning, her time, he had given up completely. Angrily, he grabbed his half-empty bottle of beer and threw it across the room with such force that it shattered when it hit the wall, just below his favorite picture of Donna.

  Chapter Six

  Donna woke relatively early and stretched sleepily. She was still so tired, and her muscles hurt from all the overexertion last night. But luckily for her, she wasn't needed on the set today until later this afternoon. And after the day she'd had yesterday, she was really looking forward to a little time to herself this morning. A nice long soak in a tub full of hot water and bubbles was exactly what she needed. That, and to hear her baby's voice as he told her he loved her.

  She smiled thinking abo
ut Cory. She was so sorry she had missed their nightly video chat, and she hoped he wouldn't be too upset with her. She had thought about calling him when she finally got back to her room at around two thirty in the morning, but she was just so tired all she could do was fall into bed. For the life of her, she couldn't remember why she had been excited about trying her own stunts. Turns out, fight scenes and stunts on Model for Murder were much less intense than blockbuster action movie staging, and her whole body was feeling it this morning.

  Sitting up, she stretched once more, with a big yawn. Then she climbed out of bed and began to really stretch, getting down on all fours to perform a basic cat-cow yoga pose to open her spine. After a couple of minutes, she moved on to downward dog, and then warrior one and warrior two. Several minutes later she felt fully awake and ready to begin her day. And first on her agenda was Cory.

  She reached for her cellphone and turned it on. And she felt her brows furrow as she noted the huge number of missed calls. What the hell? There were calls from her parents, her brother, her personal assistant … even her publicist. And Julia, her friend and co-star on Model for Murder. And Cory. Oh, my God, there were so many missed calls from Cory. Had something happened? Was he okay? Had he been hurt? Her imagination began to run away with her as all manner of frightening scenarios flew through her head. She was frantic with worry as she anxiously hit the button, dialing his number. Answer, answer, answer. She chanted in her head as the phone rang and rang and rang. Oh please, be okay.

  “What the fuck is going on, Donna?!”

  Cory's voice was a mixture of anger, rage and frustration, and Donna was completely lost wondering what the hell was wrong as he continued to yell at her.

  “Why couldn't I reach you last night, and why the fuck are you on every damn tabloid from here to hell kissing that slimy son of a bitch?”

  “Cory, what are you talking about?” Donna asked loudly.

  “Oh, you know damn well what I'm talking about! Don't play that fucking game with me,” he shouted. “If there's something you need to tell me, then you damn well better do it right now! Do you have any idea what kind of hell I've been going through here?”

  Nothing he was saying made any sense to her, but she knew that he was angrier than she had ever seen him before. Cory never yelled at her like this, even when they argued. But she could feel his fury now, over the phone, and it instantly made her ill. A light sheen of moisture quickly spread across her brow as the room skewed slightly, and her head suddenly felt lifted from her body, as if it were floating. Reaching out with one hand, she clutched at the bed to steady herself, and she knew instinctively that she needed to sit down before she fell. Moving slowly, she climbed back onto the bed and situated herself on the mattress. Then she curled her legs up beneath her and bent over, curling into a ball as she tried desperately not to faint.

  “Cory,” she said quietly, “Please listen to me. I don't know what's going on; I don't know why you're so angry with me. Please …”

  “That's your story?” he said harshly. “You've got no fucking clue what I'm talking about? That's the story you're going with? Really?”

  “Cory, please,” she wailed softly, trying to breathe deeply and not give in to the wave of nausea that was threatening to overtake her. “Please just listen to me.”

  “I would love to listen to you, Donna, but so far you're not saying a damn thing! Start talking!”

  She couldn't take his outrage any longer and the tears came freely, springing to her eyes and running down her cheeks unimpeded. “Please stop yelling at me,” she sobbed. “Please.”

  The sound of her tears always crippled him, and Cory suddenly felt his indignation give way to hurt and bewilderment. He hated it when she cried. And all he wanted right now was to put his arms around her. “Donna … I'm sorry I yelled, okay,” he said, trying hard to control the level of his voice. “But I have been going crazy here wondering what the hell is going on. And I couldn't reach you! You have got to tell me something!”

  “I will tell you whatever you want to know, Cory. But first, you have to tell me what it is we're talking about because I swear to you, I don't know,” she said tearfully.

  “You don't know?”

  “No!” Now it was her turn to yell out of frustration. Slowly sitting up on the bed she continued, “Please! Tell me what happened.”

  Cory sighed heavily. Could she really have no clue what had gone on in the last twenty-four hours? He shook his head as he tried to understand. “Baby … yesterday afternoon, your face was plastered on tabloids and TV screens around the world, kissing that slimy bastard you're working with! With headlines like 'Tad beds newlywed starlet' and 'Devlin steps out on brand new husband.'”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” Cory said, growing agitated again. “And the minute it hit the airwaves my phone blew up, everybody wanting a piece of me, trying to get a comment.”

  “Cory … I don't know what to say.”

  “Well, how about the fucking truth, Donna? Tell me what happened!”

  “Nothing! Nothing happened,” she yelled. “I swear to you, the only kissing that Tad and I have done has been on the movie set. When the director yells 'cut,' it's done! Cory, you know that I would never kiss him, let alone sleep with him! Please tell me you know that I would never do that to you.”

  Her voice pleaded with him, and Cory suddenly let go of the crushing fear he had been hanging onto for the last twelve hours. He was silent for a moment as he felt the fight leave him, and his heart swelled as relief washed over him in waves.

  “Cory?” Donna said anxiously, wondering if his silence was good or bad.

  “Oh, God, baby,” he whispered. “I have been going out of my fucking mind. Especially when I couldn't reach you for so long.”

  “I'm so sorry, baby. I had no idea,” she said, still wiping tears. “I love you, Cory. I would never cheat on you, not with anyone. Please say you know that.”

  “I know,” he whispered, saying what she needed to hear. “I know you wouldn't cheat on me. But, Donna … you have to tell me what happened yesterday. Why couldn't I reach you, baby? Where the hell were you?”

  “I was working. We went on location, shooting scenes around the city. And then we shot night scenes until the wee hours of the morning,” she explained. “I don't have my phone on me while we're shooting. And I thought about calling you when I finally got back to my hotel, but it was so late. And Deb tried to tell me that I needed to check my messages, but I was just so tired, Cory. I'm sorry.”

  Cory didn't know what to say. Part of him felt like a total idiot for ever allowing himself to doubt her. But part of him couldn't get that image of her in Tad Radcliffe's arms out of his head. And the salacious coverage the story was receiving wasn't helping one little bit.

  “I'm so sorry, baby. Please tell me you believe me,” Donna said tearfully.

  “Yes, of course, I believe you,” he answered.

  “From now on, when I'm filming, I'll give my phone to Deb and instruct her to answer your calls always,” she said, referring to her personal assistant. “And I guess this explains all the calls from my publicist. I just don't understand where those pictures could have come from. I don't think personal cameras are allowed on the set, but there's no other explanation.”

  “Well, speaking of publicists … Mike says we need to release a statement as soon as possible to diffuse some of the gossip. He thinks it's best if the statement is issued in both our names, whether we use your publicist or the band's. That way we send a clear message that we're in agreement on whatever we say.”

  “Yes, I agree. And if you want Mike to handle it, that's fine with me,” she replied. “As long as the statement says that I love you madly and that I would never allow another man to touch me.”

  At her words, Cory smiled slightly, in spite of himself. Then he inhaled deeply, and released a long, slow, cleansing breath. “I love you so much, Donna. Yesterday … I was so …”

  �
�Cory,” she whispered, her heart aching at the sadness in his voice.

  “I was so scared, baby.”

  “But why? You had to know those reports were wrong. That it was all a big lie.”

  “My heart knew that,” Cory quietly explained. “But you have to understand that my head was clouded with the things they were saying on TV. And dealing with my sisters, and our mothers, and the concerned looks on our friends' faces. And the frustration of not being able to reach you! I swear, I thought I was losing my fucking mind, baby.”

  “I am sorry, Cory.

  “From now on, no matter what time you get in, you call me! Do you understand? I want to hear your voice at least once a day; I don't care what time it is!”

  “I promise, Cory,” she answered. “No matter what time of day it is.” They were silent for a moment, just listening to the sound of each other breathing, when Donna quietly said, “Can I ask you a favor?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can we switch to FaceTime so I can see you?”

  Cory smiled. Then he looked down at his phone and hit the button, switching to video chat. And when her face came into view he allowed his thumb to lightly brush across the image of her lovely face. Her eyes were slightly red and puffy, but she looked so damn pretty as she smiled at him.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

  “So are you. And I love you so much, Cory. I'm so sorry for all the confusion you went through yesterday. And the anger and frustration you must have gone through when you couldn't get a hold of me. I feel so bad about that.”

  “Don't feel bad, baby. It wasn't your fault.”

  “But it is my fault! It's my fault that I didn't check my messages once throughout the entire day. That's on me! And it will never happen again, I promise you.”

  “Okay,” he said softly. “Should we talk about what we want the statement to say?”

  She nodded her head, and they got to work then, crafting a short statement to be issued from the two of them. It said simply that they were shocked that the doctored photos taken from the set of Donna's new movie had caused such a stir, and that, while they were both upset the photos had been leaked and taken seriously, they were still very much together and very much in love.