by Tara Lain
Jerry looked at Fred as they walked. “What’s going on?” He hit the double doors at the top of the aisle and pushed out into the huge lobby of the giant showroom and—
At least a hundred reporters pushed toward him with cameras, microphones, and notebooks poised.
“Jet, Jet. What about the underage girlfriend?”
“Is that why you’ve never gotten married? Do you like them young and sweet?”
“What about the guy? Why were you hugging a man?”
“Jet, are you gay or straight?”
Jerry fell against the doors, and the bodyguards flanked him, pushing him back into the relative quiet of the massive auditorium.
Jerry just stood there, processing.
Fred said, “Those fuckers, they just won’t leave you alone. Let’s get someone to go for food, and you can rest in your—”
Jerry clenched his teeth but got the words out between them. “What the fuck is going on?”
“It’s just more of the same old crap, Jet. Don’t worry.” Fred grabbed Jerry’s arm.
Jerry ripped his arm away. “If you expect me to perform tonight, somebody better start talking.”
Theoni shot Fred a vicious look and touched Jerry’s arm. “Come on, honey, I’ll tell you.”
She led him to a quiet part of the auditorium. Fred tried to tag along, but she shook her head. Jerry’s stomach was tied in knots before he even sat down.
When he and Theoni were finally face-to-face, she said, “I guess Fred and the band came to Ashland and found you, right?”
“Yes.”
“Apparently a couple paparazzi followed them. They took pictures of you with your friends, the man and the girl.”
A sour taste rose up the back of Jerry’s throat. “Show me.”
She did.
“I’m assuming she’s not your girlfriend.”
“She’s the daughter of the guy who’s renovating my fucking house.” He clenched his fists. “She’s seventeen years old, Theoni. What the fucking hell are these vultures thinking?”
“You’re news, Jet. They’re going to make it any way they can. I’ll have the lawyers on the publication in an hour. We’ll get them to print a retraction.”
“As if that will do any good.” He leaned back in the chair, trying to get enough air in his lungs to scream. He snapped his fingers. “Where’s my phone?” He never carried it onstage since he’d broken about five phones crashing them to the floor as he danced.
“Fred has it, I think.”
“Fred! Give me my damned phone.”
Fred rushed over, pulling the phone from his jeans pocket as he came. He stopped a few feet away. “Who are you calling?”
Jerry jumped out of his seat. “When that becomes your business, I’ll have it published in the fucking Enquirer. Give me the phone now!”
Fred fumbled the device but managed to get it into Jerry’s hands. He flipped it on. Missed call from Gabe.
Jerry hit return call. It rang, rang, rang, and went to voicemail. “Shit. Shit!” He pressed a hand against his chest and glared at Fred. “If you’d left me alone, if you’d never come to Ashland, they’d never have found me and this would never have happened. My friends—”
Fred seemed to snap. “Come on, Jerry, I’m sick of this mealymouthed crap. You wanted to be a big star, and I made you one. What do you think? You can start hanging out with some retail clerk and that’s not going to be news? For fuck sake, it’s better if they think you like the girl. Get your head out of your ass, sell that stupid house, and get back to San Francisco where you can be protected. Beyond that, I don’t want to hear about it. Something of your own? For Christ’s sake, this is all yours. You made it. Own it.” He turned and stalked out of the showroom.
Jerry stared after him. He knew truth when he heard it.
GABE HELD the phone in one hand and embraced Ellie with the other. “For God’s sake, Tiffany. You know damned well those stories aren’t true. Some idiot photographer shot some pictures of Ellie and Jerry having fun and gave them a smarmy interpretation.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. That’s not what—you know what I mean. As long as you’re associating with immoral people, I can’t let you have any say in Ellie’s life or future.”
“Jerry’s not even close to immoral. He’s a kind, gentle man who treats Ellie like his own daughter.”
“Oh, right. I’ve seen him prancing around the stage.”
“Listen to yourself. There was a time you would have loved Jet Gemini. Do I have to remind you that I could have gotten sole custody of Ellie when you were going through your ugly second marriage, but I had faith you’d pull out of it, and I wanted you to have a relationship with your daughter? We’ve always been a team, Tiffany.”
She paused, and he could hear her breathing. Then there was a muffled voice in the background. Tiffany seemed to take her finger off the microphone. “I’m sorry, Gabe. This kind of pornography is inexcusable. I’m calling for an emergency hearing tomorrow.” She hung up.
Gabe stared at the phone, then dialed his lawyer, a friend of a friend from work who hadn’t charged much mostly because he didn’t do that much. “Hey, Mitch. It’s Gabe.”
The lawyer laughed. “I figured I’d be hearing from you.”
Gabe scowled. “What does that mean?”
“I saw the stories. Holy crap, how’d you ever meet Jet Gemini? Did he see Ellie and call you for a date with her?”
Gabe hung up the phone.
Ellie asked, “What did he say?”
“Not a good time to talk.” He glanced at his phone. “I missed a call from Jerry.”
She sat up. “Call him back.”
Gabe tried to keep his hands from shaking as he hit the return. Just like last time, it rang three times and went to a nondescript voicemail. He hung up, pressure so intense in his chest he couldn’t believe his heart was still beating.
“No answer?” Ellie’s eyes were big.
“No.”
She pointed at the time on the phone. “No wonder. Jet’s practically on stage. Turn on the TV. They’re showing it live.”
He wished he could say he didn’t want to see any Jet Gemini concert, but that would be a bigger lie than the one he told himself about how content he was with his life.
He flipped on NBC. The view of the huge Las Vegas showroom packed with fans gave way to a shot of the host, the late-night guy Bobby Breeson, who welcomed everyone and told them how important the concert was and all the charities it helped. The cameras cut to a phone bank where a lot of big-name actors and ball players were answering calls and giving thumbs-ups as the donation chart climbed in the background.
A famous comedian came on, and Gabe and Ellie stared at the screen without laughing until finally Breeson said, “And now, the guy you’ve been waiting for. Ladies and gentlemen, Jet Gemini.”
The stage went up in sparks and flares, the throbbing beat of the same anthem he’d started with in Eugene began playing, and Jet made his grand entrance.
He was astonishing. His charisma ate the screen, and it was like his talent blasted the doors off the showroom to fill the world beyond. Gabe felt himself shaking his head.
Ellie must have had the exact same thought. “Who’d ever believe that god even knows us?”
“Yeah.”
After a few commercials and breaks to show the climbing donation chart, the MC said, “Jet says he has something special for us, so show him how excited we all are by pumping up the donations even more.”
Jet walked onto the stage, took the microphone, and started reading off the names of people who were donating. The phones went wacko as people tried to hear their names read on TV by Jet Gemini.
When the donation chart leaped to another milestone, Jet said, “Thank you for your amazing generosity. As promised, I want to share something—a little different.” He raised his face to the light, and it shone off his mane of hair and those cheekbones like cut glass. “I want to dedicate th
is to a dear friend who I hope won’t mind my telling you she is like a little sister to me. Or in my heart, more like a daughter.”
Ellie caught her breath.
Jet said, “Anyone who tells you anything different is lying through their teeth. This is for Ellie.”
He strode across the stage in his skintight jeans, vest, and bare flesh, sat at the piano, and began to play.
Ellie sobbed as the strains of Franz Liszt filled the showroom. The cameras cut to people in the audience pressing hands to their mouths in astonishment. A couple of minutes into the piece, which Ellie assured Gabe was one of the hardest in the world to play, Jerry stopped, stood, and bowed. The place erupted.
His face serene, he strolled down to the microphone in a single spotlight. “I know I usually sing my own music, but sometimes another songwriter has better words. So I’d like to share a song that was written by Meredith Wilson, was covered by the Beatles, and now says the words I want to say. The song’s called ‘Till There Was You,’ and it’s for Gabe.”
This time, Ellie held on to Gabe as he wiped tears from his cheeks and watched Jerry stand at the microphone and sing about how he hadn’t known there was love all around—until there was you.
As the credits for the show rolled, Ellie whispered, “Jet Gemini sang you a love song.”
Gabe shook his head. “But it doesn’t change anything.”
“He came out on TV!”
Gabe wiped at his face. “Not really. Come on. His PR people will invent some supermodel named Gabriella and claim he was singing to her. And even if the press knew about me, what would they print about the rock star and the home-improvement clerk? Seriously.”
“Do you really care what people think if you can have the guy you love?”
He gazed at her. Reality check from his seventeen-year-old. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he grabbed for it.
Ellie squealed, “Jerry!”
Gabe glanced at the phone and frowned. “It’s your mom.” He looked at Ellie. And clicked the phone. “Tiffany, you okay?”
“Will—will you come and get me?” She was crying.
“Where are you? I’m there.”
“In front of Irving’s.”
He covered the phone. “You know how to get to where your mom lives?”
Ellie nodded.
“We’re coming. Are you safe?”
“I don’t know. I left.”
Gabe grabbed his car keys from the overstuffed cabinet by the front door as Ellie pulled her jacket from the closet. Gabe said, “Here, talk to Ellie while I drive.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
JERRY STOOD offstage and watched as the charity drive barometer climbed over its wildest predictions, the audience applauded their hands off, and Bobby Breeson said, “Jet will be my guest on the Late Night Show tonight, and I promise to ask him all the questions on your minds, so tune in.” He glanced offstage and grinned at Jerry.
Swigging a water, Jerry took off for his dressing room. The hotel had let Bobby set up his show in their smaller theater, and a live audience was being gathered to add the applause.
Fred fell in beside Jerry, with Theoni rushing in her high heels to catch up. Fred said, “What the hell was that all about?”
“If you couldn’t tell, I must have been doing it wrong.”
“Come on, bro. In some kind of fit of God knows what, you’re liable to do shit you’ll regret. Let’s sit for a few minutes and strategize what you’re going to say on Breeson’s show.”
Jerry got to the dressing-room door. “That’s exactly what I plan to do. Thanks.” He walked inside and closed the door in Fred’s face.
Quickly, he crossed to the makeup table and checked his phone. A missed call from Gabe. Jerry punched the Callback button.
It rang once and instantly was answered. There was rustling and bumping.
Jerry said, “Hello? Gabe?”
A breathless female voice whispered, “Jerry?”
“Ellie, hi. Where’s your dad?”
“He’s driving. We saw your show. It was amazing, but it’s been a hard day around here.”
“Jesus, I’ll bet. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know anything about the photos or what was going on until it was almost time for my show. I tried to call but didn’t get an answer.”
“That’s because my dad was on the phone with my mom. She and her idiot fiancé were talking about taking Dad to court to try to get full custody of me.” She sounded pissed.
“Wait. Are you saying this has something to do with the photos?”
“Yes. They were claiming child endangerment. But now my mom’s left her fiancé, or at least she’s waiting on the curb, so maybe she’s changed her mind. We’re on our way to get her.”
“Wait. To get her. Where’s the fiancé?”
“We’re not sure. That’s why we’re hurrying. Trust me, he’s not a nice guy. I’ve got to get back to my mom, Jerry. She’s on the other line.”
“Call me and tell me what’s happening.” His stomach clenched. “And don’t worry. Sometimes there are real good reasons to have a lot of money, and hiring the best lawyers is one of them.”
She snorted. “Can I be defended by Gloria Allred?”
“We’ll have to see if Gloria’s available.”
“Gotta go. I hope we’re home in time to see you on Bobby Breeson’s.”
“I hope so too. Love you.”
She gave a soft little gasp. “Oh. Love you too.”
He hung up and held the phone to his forehead for a second. Look at the mess you’ve made. Time to unmess it.
He glanced at the clock and sprang into action. In record time, he took a shower, washed his sweaty hair, and then stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, wet locks hanging past his shoulder blades.
Own it. That’s what Fred had said. Every action produces a reaction. Even choosing not to act was a decision with consequences. He said he wanted something of his own, but Fred was right. This was all his. He created it, and he could recreate it.
He sat down at the makeup table.
GABE HAD been driving about fifteen minutes when Ellie waved toward a townhouse on the right. “That’s Irving’s place.”
He slowed and pulled over to the curb, but no Tiffany. “Do you think she changed her mind?”
Suddenly, a figure dressed in what looked like pajamas came running from between the two-story units. Ellie said, “That’s Mom.” She opened her door, but as Tiffany ran toward the truck, the front door of one of the townhouses opened, and Irving staggered out.
“Get back in here, you bitch.”
Gabe threw open the driver’s door and was on the lawn before Tiffany even made it to the truck. He caught her. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Everything—all my clothes and everything are in th-there.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get them later. As long as you’re safe.”
Irving ran across the lawn and stopped a few feet from Gabe. “Let go of her, you slimy pervert.”
Gabe raised an eyebrow. “Or what, asshole? I’ll go to hell? Get in the truck, Tif.”
Irving made a grab for her arm, and Gabe pulled her behind him. Irving snarled, “Tiffany, do as I say. You know you can’t leave your precious child with this despicable person, and the courts will see it our way. She belongs in a godly household, being trained in the ways of divine love.”
Gabe stepped forward and Irving’s eyes widened. Gabe spoke, low and dangerous. “You come anywhere near my daughter and you’ll be meeting divine love face-to-face. Clear?” Irving stared at him with hate. Gabe said, “Tomorrow, I’m coming back here to get Tiffany’s belongings. If one thing’s missing or damaged, I’ll have you in court for the rest of your life.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Ellie helping Tiffany into the truck.
Irving snarled, “If you come back here, I’ll have the cops waiting.”
Gabe stared at him. “Be my guest. I’m done caring about people like you.” He turned, walked to the
truck, and climbed in. “Are we ready to go home?”
Ellie smiled and hugged her mom in the back seat as they drove away.
After a couple of quiet minutes, Tiffany said, “I’m so sorry. I thought Irving was a good man. He seemed so holy and pure. But then I realized it was a mask he wears to hide the hate. I’m sorry I ever let him near you, Ellie.”
Ellie hugged her tighter.
Tiffany murmured, “If I wanted to know what a good man was like, all I ever had to do was look at your dad.” She dozed on Ellie’s shoulder all the way home.
When they pulled into the driveway, Gabe’s phone rang. Ellie was still holding it, so she answered as Gabe helped Tiffany out of the car.
“Hey, Jerry.” She smiled. “Yep, he managed it like a superhero.” Giggling, she said, “Captain America. Right.” After listening for a minute, she nodded. “Oh, okay. We’ll be watching.” She hung up.
Gabe shot her a look, and she shrugged. “He says he has to go be a rock star one last time.”
“What?”
She raised her brows. “No clue.”
Fifteen minutes later, Tiffany had her head on Ellie’s lap on the couch because she refused to go to bed until she saw Jet Gemini. Gabe was sitting on the ratty chair with butterflies the size of eagles soaring through his stomach.
Ellie was holding forth to Tiffany. “You should have seen it, Mom. Here’s the biggest rock star in the world singing about how there weren’t any birds singing until he met Dad. On TV!”
Tiffany looked at him wide-eyed, and his cheeks heated. Oh for God’s sake, he didn’t blush.
Tiffany asked, “How do you feel about him, Gabe?”
He cleared his throat. “I like him a lot. He’s a good man. But we live in really different worlds.”
“Oh, Dad.” Ellie frowned at him. “He cares about you, and you feel the same way. The rest is just logistics.”
“I do care for him, but I can’t picture my life as a rock-star groupie.”