Back To You (In Tune Book 1)

by Jessica Ruddick

  “Definitely sure.”

  “Okay.” Martin seemed to be wrapping his head around the idea, and I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about it. “Do you have any other labels in mind? Rio might be a good fit.”

  I exhaled. “I don’t want to sign with anyone. I want to be in control for once.”

  My manager was silent for a moment. “If that’s what you want, Gabe.”

  “It is.” His pause had me second-guessing myself for a moment. “It is,” I said more firmly. I’d thought this over. It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. I’d felt good these last weeks, and a large part of that was because I wasn’t under someone’s thumb. I wanted to be in charge of my own destiny.

  “Okay. Keep me in the loop.”

  “Will do,” I promised before hanging up.

  I made it to the realtor’s office and followed Mr. Edwards in, prepared to handle my shit like a grown-up. It quickly became clear that buying real estate was a fat pain in the ass. With the house in Malibu, Bette, my lawyer, and my accountant had handled everything, and I just swooped in at the end and signed a whole bunch of shit. My eyes glazed over after Mr. Edwards had only been talking for a few minutes.

  I was about to act like the privileged asshole I was, but it would save everyone a lot of time and headache in the long run. I was good at a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them. So I was going to stay in my lane and let the people I paid do their jobs. “Mr. Edwards, let me stop you right there. Can you send everything to my assistant? She’ll coordinate all the things.”

  “Oh.” The elderly man seemed taken aback. “Well, yes, I suppose I can do that.”

  “Great.” Standing, I took out my phone and tapped on it a few times. “I just sent you her info. Her name is Bette.”

  “Alrighty, then.” He seemed lost, as if he’d geared himself up on the drive and I’d taken the wind out of his sales.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Edwards,” I assured him. “I’ll let Bette know it needs to be done in twenty-three days, and she’ll get it done in twenty-two.”

  Mr. Edwards smiled. “Sounds like my kind of woman.”

  I highly doubted that. If they ever met in person, the Southern gentleman wouldn’t know what to make of my former-groupie assistant. But Bette was efficient, so they’d likely get along just fine over phone and email.

  Once back in my car, I texted Bette to let her know what was going on. Then I opened a text from Tyler. It contained a link, so I clicked on it.

  Fuck me.

  It was a website devoted to celebrity fashion, the kind where there were polls that asked who wore something better when celebrities made the faux pas of wearing the same outfit to an event. But this headline read “Who Wore Him Better?” The “him” in question was me. The first picture was of Kassidy Sterling during the three seconds she’d had her arms wrapped around my neck. The photographer must have been quick on the trigger, because I’d shut that shit down fast. In the photo, it looked like she was whispering something naughty into my ear. Damn it.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, the next picture was of Leah and me embracing a split second before we kissed. Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but appreciate how damn beautiful she looked, not to mention sexy as hell with her eyes closed and lips parted. Just looking at the picture made my blood heat.

  But the caption made my blood run cold. A-lister Gabe Gable slumming it with mystery Z-lister.

  Oh, fuck no. My first inclination was to find out who’d written it, hunt them down, and knock their fucking teeth out. I seethed, my hands shaking with rage. Celebrities were fair game—it was part of being in the public eye. But they had no right to disparage Leah.

  I didn’t follow the link to see the current poll standings and read people’s comments. I was liable to put my fist through the windshield.

  I started to text Tyler, but I was so angry I couldn’t see straight. I called him instead. “Has Leah seen this?”

  “I sure as hell didn’t send it to her.”

  “Fuck.”

  “My thoughts exactly. If she hasn’t seen it yet, she’s bound to eventually. I thought you’d want to get ahead of it.”

  “How did you find out about it?”

  “My little sister.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Leah had tiptoed into my world for one weekend because I’d asked her to, and this was how she was being repaid for it.

  Z-lister… who writes this shit? And “slumming it”? Seriously? That was downright insulting, and there was no reason for it because they seemed to have no idea who she was. Not that looks were the most important thing, but Leah was gorgeous, and that was the only thing they had to judge her on. I didn’t get it.

  Gripping the steering wheel, I tried to remember Leah’s schedule. I was pretty sure she had a cleaning job then had to go to the community college to take a test before working the late shift at the diner. Fuck. I didn’t know when I’d be able to catch her, and I sure as hell didn’t want to talk to her about it over the phone.

  I could only hope she’d be too busy to read stupid online gossip.

  But fuck. Just fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Leah

  “Are you freaking out?” Lacey asked. “You promised you wouldn’t freak out.”

  I stared at the website I had pulled up on my phone while I talked to my sister on speaker. I definitely wasn’t freaking out. I was numb. I didn’t know which was worse—the catty caption about me or the picture of Gabe with Kassidy Sterling wrapped around him.

  On second thought, it was a no-brainer. I didn’t care what some internet gossip wrote about me, but the picture of Gabe and Kassidy was a sucker punch. I wondered when exactly it had been taken. Obviously, it had been at the after-party—I could tell from what he was wearing and the background. It must have been before he found me, because we hadn’t separated and left soon after.

  “Leah?”

  “Sorry. I’m here.”

  “I didn’t know whether I should tell you about it, but I figured I would want to know. I swear, Leah, the next time I see Gabe, I’m going to kick him in the balls for you.”

  “It’s not his fault.”

  “Are you kidding me? Unless he has a twin like Kassidy does, then that is definitely him in the picture. I’m telling you—his balls are toast.” I never realized how eager my sister was to kick guys in the balls. I should probably talk to her about that. Another time.

  Lacey was right that it was definitely Gabe in the picture, but he wasn’t a cheater, despite what the picture led me to believe. There had to be a reasonable explanation. Tell that to my clenched stomach. “Let me talk to him before you send his balls into his nasal cavity,” I said. “I might want children one day.”

  Silence. Dead silence. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  I winced. I hadn’t meant to tell her like this. “Gabe and I are back together. Like, really together.”

  “For real?” she shrieked. “Then his balls—”

  “Lacey, chill with the threats to his balls. I’m starting to think you’re unhinged.”

  She sniffed. “No, just swearing off guys for a while. Actually, I’m thinking about becoming a lesbian.”

  It was my turn to be silent for a moment. “I don’t think it works that way.”

  She sighed. “I know. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”

  “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  “No. Just a few bad dates and a sprained wrist.” She paused. “Do you want me to look at the poll and see who’s winning?”

  It took me a minute to realize the conversation had circled back to the gossip website. I hadn’t even realized there was a poll, but now, I read the article more closely.

  I’d finally let my desire to be with Gabe overrule my fear that we were too different to make it work between us. Now this. I gnawed on my thumbnail. The thought of clicking on the poll results and seeing that the public deemed Kassidy a better fit for Gabe made me want to vomit. “Hard pass,” I said
. “I don’t want to know.”

  “I admire your restraint. I wouldn’t be able to resist.”

  “There’s no point in either torturing myself or gloating. It’s stupid, anyway. None of it matters.” Am I trying to convince my sister or myself? For a moment, I considered ignoring my own good advice and looking at the poll results. Luckily, I came to my senses. It didn’t take a genius to realize the post was skewed against me. Even if it wasn’t, there was no way I’d come out ahead in a contest with Kassidy Sterling.

  I read the caption again, which was its own form of torture. A-lister Gabe Gable slumming it with mystery Z-lister.

  Is that what people think when they see me with Gabe? My clothes were definitely more Walmart instead of Rodeo Drive like most others at the after-party. Hell. I didn’t even know if that was where celebrities actually shopped. I’d gotten the reference from Pretty Woman.

  Gabe lived in a different world than I did—that had been abundantly clear during our trip to New York. Has it morphed him so much that he cares about this sort of thing?

  Doubt filled me, but I quickly forced it out of my mind. Nothing Gabe had done or said led me to believe he was as shallow as whoever was running that website. And I certainly couldn’t be mad at him about it—he hadn’t written those cruel words. Though he was the one who’d let Kassidy Sterling wrap her arms around him.

  No, I told myself firmly. Pictures could be deceiving. I wasn’t doing this.

  Still, a small part of me couldn’t help but wonder if I could hack it by Gabe’s side.

  Chapter 21

  Leah

  Gabe was waiting for me when I got home from working at the diner. Since Aunt Rose was feeling much better, we’d been spending more time at my place. He took one look at my face and cursed. “You’ve seen it.”

  I didn’t even need him to tell me what “it” was.

  “Lacey told me about it. I didn’t look at the poll, though.”

  His expression grew hard and angry. “That woman is a fucking twat with nothing better to do than shit on other people.”

  On that, at least, we agreed. “Yeah, I could see that.”

  He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up at odd angles. “I’m sorry this happened. It’s the shitty part of being famous.”

  “But I’m not famous.” The words were out of my mouth before I realized I was thinking them. With a start, I realized that being with Gabe would bring its own level of fame. I’d be famous for simply being with Gabe, like Kevin Jonas’s wife, Danielle.

  Gabe shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “It’s not your fault, but I am curious about the Kassidy Sterling picture.”

  He stepped toward me. “I swear, Leah, nothing happened with Kassidy. She hugged me, and that was it. We went on a few dates years ago, but I can’t remember the last time I saw her.”

  “Last night.” My blunt tone surprised me. Judging by Gabe’s wide eyes, it surprised him too.

  “Baby, I swear to you, I don’t even want to look at another woman, much less—”

  “I know.” I trusted Gabe, so I needed to act like it.

  “Then why do you look pissed?”

  I looked down at my crossed arms. I hadn’t even realized I was standing that way. Dropping them to my sides, I decided to cut the crap and be completely honest. “The situation sucks, and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

  “Not to be an ass, but there’s not a whole lot to deal with. The best response to this type of thing is no response.”

  Well, duh. It wasn’t as though I was going to get on the comments and start calling people out for the cruel words. That never turned out well for anyone, celebrity or civilian. “I guess I don’t know how to feel about it,” I amended.

  “You feel how you feel,” Gabe said simply. “If you’re angry, then be angry. If you’re upset, then be upset. There’s no right or wrong here. The trick is not to let it eat away at you. Feel what you feel then let it go.”

  I blinked. “That’s very Zen of you.”

  He looked mildly embarrassed. “David taught me that in the beginning.”

  “It sounds like David was good to you.”

  He shrugged. “He was like the father I wish I’d had. I wish I could tell you that nothing like that article is ever going to happen again, but I can’t. Being with me has lots of advantages—the biggest of which is that you and Lacey will never want for anything again. But there are downsides, too, and I’m sorry you had to learn that already.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” I said softly.

  “Not directly. But it wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t with me.”

  I didn’t bother trying to placate him with denials, because it was true. No one gave a shit who I was until I stepped out in public with Gabe. I’d been so naïve that I hadn’t even realized my picture was being taken. “There’s no stopping the public attention, is there?”

  He looked distressed. “Not if you’re out in public with me. The way I understand it is that as long as you’re in a public place, paparazzi can take as many pictures as they want. I can hire a bodyguard for you if it would make you feel better.”

  My jaw dropped slightly. “Do I need security?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve never had a dedicated guard, but some celebrities use them. They dissuade some paparazzi.”

  I tried to imagine running everyday errands, like to the grocery store, with a hulking man wearing a black suit and an earpiece following me. I couldn’t picture it. More than that, I didn’t want to. Besides, I would think having a bodyguard would draw more attention, not less.

  Gabe took my hands in his. “Leah, I will do whatever it takes to keep you by my side and make you happy.”

  Though I was freaked out by all of it, I decided I was overreacting. When I was with Gabe, he would draw attention, so some of that would naturally fall to me. I had no reason to think anyone would be interested in or even recognize me when he wasn’t around.

  “Being with you makes me happy,” I said simply. “I loved you when you were Gabe Gagliano, wannabe rock star, and I love you now. I’ll take everything that comes with it.”

  Exhaling, he pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you so damn much.”

  Gabe

  Both Tyler and Leah were working, so I was at the bowling alley, watching Aunt Rose’s team practice for the semifinals because there was literally nothing else to do in this town. Aunt Rose still wasn’t cleared by her doctor to participate, but she was just as tired of sitting around as I was.

  “Watch the line!” Aunt Rose yelled to her teammate. “Your toe was creeping up.” She turned to me. “They’re super strict about the foul line in our league. You would think they’d let some things slide in geezer bowling, but nope. Half of us are so blind that we can’t even see the damn thing.”

  “If they can’t see the foul line, then how can they see well enough for all those strikes?” I asked. The scores these geezers were throwing up were impressive, much better than I could have done.

  Aunt Rose pursed her lips. “Don’t be a smart-ass.”

  I laughed. “It was a serious question.”

  She harrumphed and moved closer to the action.

  The longer I idled in town, the stronger the urge to leave became. I’d written enough songs to fill two albums, and I wanted to start laying down tracks. Bette had sent me pictures of the home studio in the house in Malibu, and I was eager to break it in. Other than the few songs I’d made before I signed with Killjoy, I hadn’t produced my own music. I was sure there would be a learning curve, and I wanted to hurry and start on that path. But not without Leah. I’d promised her I’d stay through the end of Lacey’s winter break, which went through mid-January. So as much as it killed me, I was sucking it up and twiddling my damn thumbs.

  In the meantime, I was only days away from closing on the Cedar Creek property. Mr. Edwards had put me in touch with a few local
builders, who had sent me brochures with floor plans, tile choices, and appliance options. I hadn’t shown them to Leah yet because she’d been so damn busy taking on extra cleaning jobs and extra shifts at the diner, as well as working on her coursework. I’d told her she could quit her jobs already, but that had gone over just as well as when I’d left her the big tip.

  Tyler came up behind me and clapped me on the shoulder. He’d texted earlier and said he’d stop by for his dinner break.

  “Hey,” I said. “I already put in the pizza order. It should be out soon.”

  “Great.”

  I leaned closer. “Are you sure bowling alley pizza is safe to eat?”

  He nodded. “I’m pretty sure they just heat up frozen pizzas from the Stop & Shop and charge double for them.”

  “Speaking of the Stop & Shop,” I said, “what’s going on with the bandit?” Tyler hadn’t mentioned her in a couple of days.

  “It’s the damnedest thing. The vandalism has stopped.” He seemed dismayed rather than relieved.

  “Maybe you need to approach this like the Jack the Ripper case,” I suggested. “Maybe they stopped because the bandit died. Check the local funeral homes.”

  Tyler stared at me for a second. “That’s dark, man.”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t had shit to do. I might have watched a few true-crime shows.” It was more like a few dozen—enough that I’d started triple-checking the locks at night.

  I need to get out of this town. I’d grown too used to the fast pace of my career, and I was drowning in boredom. I’d come to realize that small doses of Cedar Creek worked best for me. Plus, Aunt Rose didn’t need me anymore. It was time to go.

  Soon. Thanksgiving was this week, and Leah would have three glorious days off. I had hoped we could spend those days naked and horizontal, but Lacey would be home, which dashed those plans. I drummed my fingertips on the table as another plan formed in my head. I’d take both girls on a tour of the property, and we could start thinking about where we wanted to position the house. I intended it to be Lacey’s home, too, so she should have a say in the decisions. Lord knew I didn’t give a shit about carpet colors and tile choices.