by Rhonda Bowen
JJ jumped up and dashed over to grab the nearest kitchen towel and began sopping up the mess. Then she realized Cymmone was standing by the counter, her hands shaking. JJ abandoned the towel and pulled the woman into her arms.
“I’m sorry,” JJ muttered. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings like that. Sometimes I just say the first thing that comes to my mind without filtering.”
She led Cymmone back to their seats, and Cymmone slipped onto the stool once more, burying her face in her hands. Tiny sobs shook her body.
“Brady’s not here,” she said, her words muffled by her hands.
JJ had noticed. As she lay in Cymmone’s guest bed the night before, trying to fall asleep, she had wondered about it, thought it odd that a man would choose to be away from his home while his child was sick and his wife in distress—especially a man who was as good as Cymmone had told her Brady was. In the light of the morning, with Cymmone’s explanations, it didn’t seem so strange anymore.
“He took the baby and our other son to his dad’s place for the night. He won’t say it”—Cymmone sniffled—“but he can’t be around Xavier and Deacon. It’s hard for him to watch them together, watch Deacon in our home, maintain this lie.”
“Have you talked to him about this?” JJ asked. “About how you think he feels?”
Cymmone shook her head. “It’s too hard. This thing is like a boulder in the middle of our marriage. But it’s too late to change it now. We have to do this to protect Xavier. We have no choice.”
JJ sighed and slipped onto her own stool. “You know, Cymmone, I think that’s the biggest lie the devil tells all of us: We have no choice. I know I certainly bought that one long enough.” JJ shook her head. “But the truth is, we always have a choice. We can choose to trust God or to do things our way. We can wait for his direction or we can start walking on our own. It’s the devil that makes us think that we lose when we wait on God—that we don’t have a choice. But with God nothing is impossible. We think there is only one way to make things go right, but he has a thousand ways to work out our situation that we haven’t even thought of yet. But when we sacrifice doing what we know we should, to try and protect what we have, it just hurts us in the end.”
Cymmone nodded. “You’re right. I guess I am just afraid of losing what I have, and I don’t know how to trust God to work things out for me. It’s hard, girl.”
“Don’t I know,” JJ said. “It’s hard to let go of what we think we have in our hands for what we don’t know. But based on what I’m seeing, holding on to what you thought you had, this deception about your son you’ve created to keep the peace, it’s only been causing you more problems. Doesn’t it kind of make sense to try it God’s way?”
Cymmone smiled and wiped the moistness from her eyes. “It does.”
“What’s all this crying about up in here?”
Deacon stomped through the patio doors, a giggling Xavier wedged under his arm like a sack of potatoes. JJ giggled and Cymmone couldn’t help but smile also.
“Just some girl talk,” Cymmone said. “What you doin’ with my baby?”
“Your baby?” He turned to one side as if to look around, swinging Xavier along with him. “What baby?”
He swung to the other side. Xavier shrieked, delirious with mirth.
“You mean this one?” Deacon asked, swinging the little boy into an upright position.
“Yes, that one,” Cymmone said. “You put that boy down before he throws up all his breakfast.”
Deacon tickled Xavier, who erupted in more laughter, then set the little boy down. Xavier collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily but grinning.
“Xavier, go get the stuff you made for your uncle. He’s gonna be getting ready to leave soon.”
“But he just got here,” Xavier whined.
“Yeah, it’s cool,” Deacon said, leaning back against the kitchen counter across from Cymmone and JJ. “I got time.”
“JJ told me about the press event you guys have in a couple hours,” Cymmone said. “You don’t have time. I’m surprised your cell isn’t already ringing off the hook.”
“I turned it off.”
“Deacon!”
“Look, I came to see my . . .” He stopped and glanced over at Xavier, who was watching them intently. “My nephew. I don’t need any distractions. And I can cancel the event—”
“No, you can’t.”
“It’s my tour.”
“And this is my house and I’ll kick you out if I want to.”
JJ looked away from the two of them as they stared each other down. It had become intense quickly. She could only imagine what it had been like when the two of them dated.
“Look,” Cymmone said, breaking first. “I know you were worried about Xavier, but he’s fine now, so let’s not make this a big deal. You being missing like this will just draw more attention than it needs to. Just come by later this week during your break. Okay?”
Deacon frowned, and for a moment he looked younger than the three-year-old on the floor.
“Okay, fine, I’ll go.” He looked over at Xavier. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you though, alright?”
An hour later, after they said their good-byes and Cymmone promised to think about what JJ had said, Deacon and JJ were on the road again. Almost as soon as they slid through the high metal gates, Deacon had slid back into his sour mood. JJ could tell he was upset about leaving his son. For Deacon, a few hours with Xavier weren’t nearly enough.
“You miss spending time with him, don’t you?” JJ said about halfway down the drive.
“I’m sure Cymmone filled you in about why things are the way they are,” Deacon deadpanned, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “This is what’s best for Xavier.”
“How about what’s best for you?” JJ asked.
“What could be better for me?” Deacon asked dryly. “I get to live the celebrity life, sing for millions, make more money than I can spend, travel the world with no attachments. What more could a thirty-two-year-old single man ask for?”
The life he described sounded anything but good coming from Deacon’s mouth. It might be what many thought they wanted, but it didn’t seem to be satisfying him.
“I guess it goes without saying, but you can’t tell anyone about any of this.”
“I know,” JJ said.
“Sabrina’s gonna ask you.”
“I won’t say anything.”
“She’s gonna piece it together,” Deacon warned. “She’s probably already gone to your room and figured out you weren’t there all night. She’ll check with everyone else, and before we step into that event she’ll know that you were with me. And she’ll think a lot of things. I don’t care what you tell her, but . . .”
“She won’t hear about this from me,” JJ said. “I promise.”
Deacon sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.
“She can make things really hard for you.”
JJ rolled her eyes. “I can handle Sabrina.”
A couple hours later, when she stepped into the rooftop photo shoot and press event for Deacon Hill and She-La, JJ had to admit that she was less sure than she had felt in the car with Deacon. JJ could feel the eyes on her. Everyone’s eyes. Even though she had come on her own and Deacon hadn’t even made an appearance yet, it felt like everyone knew what had happened the night before and was talking about it. When Diana yanked her into a corner, her fears were confirmed.
“Tell me it’s not true,” she whispered as they stood near a corner of the Skyline Terrace of the Peachtree Club. “You were not out all night with Deacon.”
JJ closed her eyes, wishing that Diana had started with something other than a direct question. “You’re my friend, Diana, and you know I would if I could, but I can’t talk about this.”
Diana’s eyes widened and she swore softly. “You were with him! JJ, what were you thinking?”
JJ rubbed her palms together nervously, scanning the rest of the event as she did. Almost everyone was here, includ
ing the entire band, Kate, Andrew, and Deacon Hill’s press team. Atlanta’s top radio station, V-103, was already set up with the DJ spinning hits and broadcasting live for the special-format show. If everything went according to plan, Deacon Hill and She-La would take over Atlanta, their pictures on bus shelters, their faces all over the local magazines and blogs, their hits on everyone’s Top 40 list. That is, if Deacon ever showed up. He was usually fashionably late to events, but this was bordering on rude.
“What time is this whole thing supposed to wrap up, anyway?” JJ asked, sidestepping Diana’s question. “I have to be at the airport by three.”
“Hmm,” Diana said, pursing her lips. “Act like you don’t hear me. But you better not try that when Sabrina backs you into a corner, and you know she’s coming.”
“She’s gotta catch me first,” JJ muttered.
She had kept a constant eye out for the red hair and freckles as soon as she’d arrived. That was the only way she could successfully avoid Sabrina. So far it was working. From where she was standing, she could see Sabrina in the corner with the hair-and-makeup crew. She had been there for a while now, giving JJ a much appreciated moment to relax.
Sabrina had just gotten up from her chair when Deacon breezed through the doors between Miles and Cyrus.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said with a wide grin. “But I’m here, and I’m ready to party.”
The energy at the event immediately shifted to match the vibe Deacon brought in with him. JJ shook her head, amazed at how he seemed to be able to switch moods with the press of a button. It made her a little sad. It must be something to live most of your life putting on an act for everyone else.
“Alright, everyone, let’s huddle,” Kate said, waving her ever-present clipboard. “Listen up. Deacon’s going to start off with the host for V-103 while the band sets up. We’ll do the signature track to open. Ryan Lue and his guys are going to shoot throughout the performance and do shots after. Then Deacon will do the full interview. We’ll record the sound bites for V-103, take some candid shots, and then everyone can get drunk and go home.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Deacon said.
“Alright, let’s move and make use of this great sunlight.”
JJ and Diana headed for the makeshift stage area. JJ had barely taken two steps when a shoulder slammed into hers from behind, causing her to stumble to the side. As she struggled to catch her footing, she caught the swing of bright red hair.
Diana grabbed JJ’s arm and helped steady her. “Told you she was coming.”
JJ let out a deep breath. Two more hours. Just two more hours and she would be on a plane, on her way home. She could survive two hours. Or so she thought until she opened her guitar case and found her guitar’s B string cut. She cried out as if the cut had been to her own flesh.
“Who did this?” She jumped up angrily and looked around. There was no mistaking the fact that the string had been cut. It had been fine the night before when JJ put it away after the show. She always checked her guitar before and after every show. The instruments were stored with the rest of the band equipment, so only someone from the band would have had access to it.
“Who cut my string?” JJ asked more loudly. She knew she was getting hysterical, but this guitar was special. It had been given to her by Dean, and had her initials carved into the body. She could have gotten a new one at some point, but on this guitar she felt closest to home. No one should have touched her instrument.
Her eyes swung around the band, past Diana, Kya, the guys setting up the amps. None of them would look at her. They hadn’t done it, but they all knew who had. Her eyes landed on Sabrina. The smug look on the woman’s face said it all.
For a moment JJ lost herself. Dropping the case of her guitar, she stormed through the electrical cords and mike stands, straight for Sabrina. The woman’s eyes widened a little. JJ’s own eyes narrowed. Sabrina had no idea who she was dealing with. JJ might appear sweet on the surface, but she was an Isaacs woman at heart, and people who knew what that meant knew to watch out.
JJ stepped right around the keyboard and into Sabrina’s face, nose to nose with her, so close she could see every freckle on her pointy nose. So close Sabrina could see the fire blazing in JJ’s eyes.
“Don’t you ever touch my guitar again,” JJ hissed. “Or I promise you, strings won’t be the only things broken on this tour.”
Sabrina blinked rapidly and drew a shaky breath. In that moment JJ knew that Sabrina was more steam than engine. She talked a big talk, but when it came down to it, she was nothing but a little loudmouthed girl pretending to be bad.
“Leave my man alone, and we won’t have a problem,” Sabrina growled back.
“You having trouble with your man, you take it up with him,” JJ said. “Leave me out of it.”
“I would, if I could get a moment with him,” Sabrina said, her eyebrows furrowing angrily. “Every time I turn around you’re with him, which means that you’re my problem. See, I’m not like everyone else around here. I know D—every single chocolate inch of him. So I know he’s not sleeping with you. But something else is going on with the two of you, and I want to know what it is.”
A chill swept through JJ. Deacon didn’t give his girlfriend enough credit. She was better at piecing things together than they thought.
“Ahh, there it is,” Sabrina said, her lips twisting into a sick smile. “You really should work on that, honey. Your eyes give away everything.”
JJ already knew that. “Nothing’s going on, Sabrina.”
“And you’re also a terrible liar,” Sabrina added. Her face hardened. “What’s Deacon hiding?”
JJ pressed her lips shut. She wasn’t saying another word to Sabrina. She stepped back and turned to walk away, but Sabrina grabbed her arm roughly.
“I’m not finished with you . . .”
“Ladies!”
Both women turned to look at Kate, who was leveling eyes of steel at them.
“Everything going okay?”
Coming from Kate it wasn’t really a question, more like a demand to make everything okay so that the event they had spent thousands of dollars putting together went off without a hitch.
JJ yanked her arm out of Sabrina’s grip and walked back over to her guitar.
“Everything’s fine,” she said, unzipping the inside pocket of the case to look for a new string. She was done fooling with Sabrina. The woman could shoot her nasty glances and try her cheap tricks all evening. JJ was going to fix her guitar, play this event, smile for the camera, and get out of Dodge as soon as she could muster.
She glared at Deacon as he posed with the DJ and grinned at the camera. Him and his secrets. She wasn’t even involved, but it was causing her nothing but trouble. It almost made her wish she could rewind to that night at the club and take Cyrus’s advice to leave Deacon alone. It seemed the old saying was holding true: No good deed goes unpunished.
Chapter 28
Simon stood back from the crowd at gate eight, waiting. He watched people exit the passageway onto an elevated balcony and look out into the sea of people below for that familiar face. He watched their faces break into smiles, their bodies propel into motion as they moved to meet their companions at the bottom of the ramp. More smiles, many warm embraces, occasionally a few tears.
It made him think of all his airport visits. The ones where he was on the arriving end. Where he was doing the traveling. Sometimes there was someone there to meet him. But mostly there wasn’t. Lately he had been noticing the smiling, expectant faces more. And more and more, deep in the back of his mind, in a place he didn’t dare explore, he had started to wonder what it would be like to have a familiar face waiting for him. Someone who would smile when he stepped onto that narrow balcony and come to meet him at the other end of the ramp.
He knew there was a reason that he was having those thoughts as he stood at gate eight, waiting for JJ, but he didn’t dare explore that either. He shifted his weight from one foot to th
e other, fingered his car keys in his pocket, popped a piece of gum in his mouth, and tried to remember when he had become this impatient.
He saw the hair first. Thick, larger-than-life spirals with reddish highlights framed her face and cascaded down to her shoulders. Wearing a T-shirt and jeans and a blazer, she looked incredibly sophisticated yet casual. He couldn’t see her eyes through the oversized glasses, but the faint frown tipping her pouty lips let him know that she wasn’t completely happy. He smiled as he watched her glance around like the others did, looking for that familiar face that should be waiting. Looking for him. And when she saw him, he knew because the frown disappeared and slowly a huge smile took its place. It was the most beautiful thing Simon had seen in a long time.
Even with a guitar case on her back, pulling a suitcase in each hand, she managed to cut through the crowd and be down the ramp before he got to it.
“Hey,” he said as they got closer to each other. She dropped her bags and guitar and threw her arms around him. Simon stumbled back a bit, thrown off balance by the unexpected affection.
“Hey, yourself.” He heard the words against his chest where her face was pressed. He felt the weakness in her limbs and he couldn’t help but pull her a little closer.
“Tired?” he asked when they finally let go of each other.
“You have no idea,” she breathed. “But I’m so glad to be home.”
Before he thought about it, he reached down and gently removed her glasses, sliding them up into her hair like he had seen her do once. He caught the questioning look in her eyes.
“I wanted to see you,” he said with a shrug.
She looked at him through her large hazel eyes for a long moment.
“You’re an interesting man, Simon Massri.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Is that good or bad?”
He was treated to her smile again. “It’s good,” she said, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. “Very good.”
“You mind if we continue this in the car?” he asked, grabbing her travel bags. “I’m not the biggest fan of airports.”