by Tammy Coons
Without looking at him, she spoke.
“Your phone has reception. I called Ian. He’s sending a tow truck for us. We should probably get back to the car.” Her stunning eyes were on him suddenly, catching him by surprise.
“You were holding out on me,” she murmured holding up a cigarette.
“You never asked.” He returned a tender smile and placed a delicate kiss on her full lips. A small sound of pleasure escaped her as their tongues intertwined. When they parted, she rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her. Steph crushed out the cigarette, having smoked it to the butt. They went inside the cottage and gathered their belongings. Philip bit his lip wanting to ask what she was thinking, and chided himself for being such a girl.
Steph began to speak on their way out the door.
“Phillip…” she stopped and seemed to search for words.
“Hmmm?”
“Do you even want to talk about it?”
Phillip stopped in his tracks and in turn, Steph stopped and turned to him.
“Look, I know I’m not good at this. I’ve been an imbecile.”
“Phillip…” she began, and then trailed off. She looked past him. He turned to look at what had pulled her attention away and saw a tow truck in the distance hitching up the rental car. He experienced an array of emotions in rapid succession. Leaving the safety of their cottage and rejoining the real world seemed daunting. He had a moment to wonder what would happen when they were surrounded by the pressures of their careers and friends. Without another word they began running toward the driver who waved cheerfully. After expressing their gratitude, they climbed into the truck. Phillip felt hypersensitive to her presence in the small cab. He had to put his arm around her in order so the three of them could sit comfortably, and touching her was practically unbearable. When Phillip saw the driver give Steph’s legs an admiring look, he practically pulled her onto his lap. When she snuggled into him, he was surprised and pleased by her reaction. He stroked her wild hair affectionately and she closed her eyes. The truck driver winked at Phillip and popped in a cd of some Irish drinking songs. He began singing along as they made the trip back to Dublin.
Cheyenne frantically paced the floor. Bret had appeared on her doorstep around dinner time the previous evening. He’d been concerned that Phillip had not met him at the restaurant for dinner as planned. He’d wondered if she’d heard from Stephanie. Cheyenne explained that Steph had forgotten her cell phone and Bret said Phillip’s phone was going straight to voicemail. He left to inform Ian, and Cheyenne had begun to feel more uneasy with every passing hour. Around 11:00 pm, she’d finally worked up the courage to call Ian. He informed her that he’d just tracked down Phillip’s grandparents number and they told him Steph and Phillip had left hours before. Ian had security out searching for them.
It was now 10:00 a.m. and Cheyenne felt sick with dread. Remembering the ugly last conversation she’d had with Steph, her writers mind played out every scenario that would delay them this long and none of them had a happy ending.
When she heard Steph’s door open, Cheyenne flung open their adjoining door.
“What the hell happened to you? Where have you been?” Cheyenne relief quickly made way for amusement at her friend’s appearance. Steph’s wore a wrinkled man’s t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts with her favorite red cowboy boots. The rest of her clothes were in a wad under her arm. She had mud caked in her hair and her cheeks and neck were all red and splotchy.
“Don’t ask.” Steph collapsed on her bed.
Cheyenne sat on the bed and faced her.
“First of all I want to apologize for being so bitchy to you.” Cheyenne was relieved to be able to unload. “I really was starting to think you were dead in a ditch.”
“I’m sorry too, for butting in. Have you seen my phone?”
“Yeah, I heard it in here when I tried to call you.” Cheyenne handed her the cell. “Steph, I really need to tell you some things.”
“Ok.?”
Cheyenne’s own discomfort made her anxious. She took a deep breath.
“Sam Ridgley is dead. “
“Come again?” Steph looked numb.
“The police aren’t saying whether he was pushed or if he jumped.” Cheyenne’s voice quivered.
“Oh, My God,” Steph whispered, putting a shaking hand over her mouth.
“The police want to talk to you.” Cheyenne handed her the policeman’s card. “Are you going to be all right?”
She put her hands on Steph’s shoulders.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Steph bolted for the bathroom. Cheyenne sighed and shook her head. She walked to the closed bathroom door. Inside she heard the faucet running.
“There’s more.” Cheyenne took another deep breath. “I had a lovely meeting with Ian and his business associates yesterday. Ian’s called your Dad, requesting our background information.”
Steph opened the bathroom door. “What?”
Cheyenne sat down. “They’ve made arrangements for me to leave after Rome.”
“This is a nightmare,” Steph groaned.
“Your father’s extremely pissed off and I may be fired,” Cheyenne added.
“I’d like to see him try.” Steph looked ready for war. Cheyenne took a moment to be grateful for Steph’s loyalty, and then quickly explained to her how she’d contacted Gerald about Steve. She said nothing about Goddess, as promised.
“Your father wants you to call.” Cheyenne lit a cigarette.
Steph sat silent for a moment. Cheyenne thought Steph looked on the verge of tears.
Steph looked at her phone and told Cheyenne she’d had missed several calls from her father and two from an unknown number. Putting her voicemail on speaker, they listened to Adam rave on and on.
It was the last message that grabbed their attention. A meek male voice stammered.
“Stephanie, this is Sam. You told me to call and I’m ready to talk. Meet me on the roof at 4:30.” Cheyenne looked at Steph wide-eyed.
“You’ve got to tell the police about this.” Steph nodded. The color had drained from her face.
“He was pushed!” Steph stammered. “All because of me and my stupid big mouth!”
“It’s not your fault. None of this mess is.”
“How can you say that? Maybe if I hadn’t forgotten my phone Sam would still be alive!”
“No, you’d probably be in a body bag. What could you have done?”
Steph seemed to contemplate Cheyenne’s response.
“What could he have known that would be worth killing him for?” Cheyenne’s eyes darted back and forth as she tried to piece the wicked mess together, but came up with nothing. Stephanie sat, shaking her head.
“I guess I’ll call my dad.”
“One last thing,” Cheyenne sighed. “We have to attend a meeting in the conference room tonight with Ian and Fury.”
“For what?” Steph dialed her father’s number.
“I think it’s so he can announce I’m leaving.”
For the next twenty minutes, Cheyenne sat in awe while Steph and her father argued and screamed at each other over the phone.
“You have no idea what’s going on over here. Let me put it to you this way, Dad. Once this story is over, I’m done with The Sound Wave. I cannot keep doing this. I can’t have you as my boss anymore, we’re done.”
When the conversation ended, Steph went to the mini bar. She grabbed a mini bottle of whiskey and chugged it.
“What time is the frickin’ meeting?’ She growled.
Cheyenne was taken aback. “5:00.”
“Great, I’m going to shower, then talk to the police,” Steph said. Stunned by Steph’s conversation with her father, Cheyenne returned to her room. The future was more uncertain than ever; she felt as if she were in a free fall.
“I want at least two drinks in me before this meeting starts,” Steph groaned.
They made their way to the conference room where onc
e again security guards awaited them. They continued into the lounge and Cheyenne was pleased that only Bret and David were there. While drowning their sorrows, they spent the next hour listening to David discuss new song ideas with Bret, who was surprisingly quiet.
“Do you know what this meeting is about?” Bret looked curious. “I was really hoping to get some practice time in before the concert tonight.”
“I think I have an idea, but I’ll let Ian tell you.” Cheyenne tipped her drink.
Cheyenne and Steph continued to drink while Bret talked about his son’s obsession with starting the dishwasher and David talked about his Brazilian girlfriend. Cheyenne saw the rest of the band enter the room and noticed Stephanie seemed as unnerved as she did. Much to her dismay, Ian and his associates followed.
“Attention everyone, please,” Ian demanded. All eyes turned to him.
Cheyenne wanted to run away, but thanks to Goddess (whoever she was) tipping her off, she was ready for him.
“Well, Chaps, we have four more shows in Europe after tonight.”
The five men clapped and whistled half-heartedly.
“Bloody hell, what a bunch of duds you all are tonight. I know the situation with our crew member has been upsetting, but the show must go on. You will all have a holiday before we begin our rehearsals for the first concert in New York, therefore I want your undivided attention for the next five shows. Needless to say, our performance quality has been slipping. It’s no secret there’s been a distraction causing friction between two of the band mates.” Ian paused, looking at Cheyenne. “We will be saying goodbye to Cheyenne in Rome.”
She glared at Ian for his unnecessary bluntness.
“She will be interviewing Phillip on the flight to Rome and Bret soon after,” Ian proclaimed. “I think we should all thank her for her hard work and let her know how eagerly we await the release of our story in The Sound Wave.”
Ian began to applaud. The band joined in but tension reigned.
“Now ladies, if you don’t mind we have a few things to discuss in private.” Ian rose to shake their hands.
Cheyenne stood and cleared her throat. She’d made up her mind earlier that she wouldn’t slink away. She’d leave clean and on her own terms.
“Thank you Ian for such a gracious introduction, but I have something I’d like to add.” She turned from him, having time to register his expression of surprise. “It’s been fascinating getting to know you all and from what I’ve seen, the fans are going to eat this article up. I’ve had a blast and I’m looking forward to the final interviews. I wish you all luck with the rest of the tour.”
Cheyenne looked at Scot, but couldn’t see his expression. The entire time she’d been speaking, he’d sat with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. Scot’s right hand was bruised and he had cuts on his knuckles. Nathan stared at her while he smoked a cigarette. His right eye was swollen and discolored and his facial expression unreadable. The three other men looked at one another and seemed to avoid looking at Nathan and Scot. Cheyenne and Stephanie gathered their purses and walked out the door without shaking Ian’s hand.
“What a bastard,” Cheyenne commented half way down the hall.
“Yep,” Steph agreed. “I kind of envy you. I can’t wait to go home.”
Steph walked into her room and turned on the lights. Roses were everywhere and their cloying smell caused her to sneeze. Behind her, she heard the bathroom door open. She turned to see her ex, Kevin, standing before her, donning a silk robe that seemed way too short for a man. His highlighted hair was perfectly styled with pounds of product and Steph knew if she touched it, it would feel like a rock.
“Hello, My Lady.” His brown eyes glowed with adoration. Steph stood with her mouth hanging open. Kevin always had impeccable timing. He whisked her into his arms.
“K…Kevin…” Steph stammered. Before she could protest, his lips were on hers. She pushed against his chest and when he finally pulled away she gaped at him in disbelief.
“Oh Pumpkin, I missed you so much.” He cradled her face in his hands.
Steph wriggled away from him and put space between them.
“Kevin, why are you here?”
He laughed lightly as he crossed to her and wrapped his arms around her.
“Because I promised you we would talk. I’ve made an important decision.” Steph shrugged off his embrace.
“What’s there to talk about? You said you needed your space.” Steph maneuvered away from him again and moved behind the chair. She didn’t want him to touch her during this long overdue confrontation. As she took in his spikey two toned hair and meticulous manscaping, she struggled to remember what ever attracted her to him in the first place.
“I needed space to decide what was right for us,” Kevin offered, sitting down on the bed.
“You mean what’s right for you. How is Maria anyway? According to the tabloids, you were quite the item.” She raised a sassy eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest.
“That was nothing. It was trumped up by the studio to promote the film. You know how this all works.” Steph shook her head. He wasn’t the actor he thought he was.
“I was a wreck when you left.” She shook her head in disbelief. It was baffling that she’d ever been interested in Kevin.
“I know my love, I’m so sorry. I know it tore you apart.” He blinked innocently.. His attempt at charm seemed smarmy.
Steph suddenly wanted another shower.
“Well, let’s not get carried away.” Steph rolled her eyes. “I was pissed off and humiliated, but I wouldn’t say I’ve been grieving.”
“I’ve spoken to your father and I went to see Cedric.” Same old Kevin; he hadn’t listened to a word she’d said.
“Why did you see Cedric, Kevin?’ Steph couldn’t mask her astonishment that he’d gone to Rome and bothered her brother.
“I wanted to do this the right way and get their permission.”
As if he’d been waiting for her to ask that particular question, Kevin got down one knee; he pulled a small red box out of his pocket. Steph eyed the window and the door, plotting her escape.
“Stephanie, I’ve thought it over and I want you to be my wife.” He opened the box revealing a pretentiously huge diamond ring.
Steph stared at him in disbelief and shook her head. “I can’t believe this.” She walked to the window.
“I couldn’t believe it either, but I figured you would love it. I know it’s a little big.” Kevin beamed with pride.
“Kevin, shut up!”
“Ok, well maybe you need time to think about it.”
“No. I don’t.”
“Well?”
Steph sighed. “I don’t love you, and honestly I don’t think I ever have.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Pumpkin. I know you’re angry.” He looked at her as if she were a small child behaving irrationally. He approached her again, pulling her in for a kiss.
“Stephanie, can I come in?” Steph heard Phillip’s voice. She felt like someone had knocked the wind out of her. She broke free from the kiss and looked at Phillip, who was standing in her doorway. Phillip glared at Kevin, his face livid. His looked at Steph and nausea gripped her when she saw the repulsion in his eyes.
“Excuse me.” It was almost a whisper. He closed the door.
Steph snapped. She pushed Kevin and he stumbled, landing on the bed awkwardly.
“The answer is no. Just go home.” Steph grabbed her purse.
“Why?” Kevin looked confused and red faced. “Who was that?”
“No one you need to concern yourself with,” she said coolly as she walked out the door and slammed it.
Scot sat in his suit with a book in his lap. After reading the same paragraph for an hour, he gave up and set it aside. He wanted to go be with Cheyenne while there was still time, but he managed to suppress these instincts. He’d been wracking his brain for a solution to their predicament, and was mentally and emotionally
exhausted.
A knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts. He opened the door and Phillip whizzed past him into the room.
“That bitch!” he spat.
Scot rolled his eyes and cursed himself for pitifully thinking it might be her. I’m such a Nancy Boy.
“I can’t believe her.” Phillip paced wildly. He ran a hand through his hair which looked uncharacteristically disheveled. “…After what happened between us.”
“Calm down Phillip.” His curiosity temporarily allowed him to push Cheyenne from his mind.
Phillip plopped down in a chair and lit a cigarette. “How could I be so stupid?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“What are you on about?”
“Stephanie,” Phillip growled.
“What about her?”
Phillip shook his head. “You’ve been so wrapped up in your own little melodrama you don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on around you,” Philip accused. He paused and took a long drag from his cigarette. Scot was troubled as he realized Phillip was very distraught. “Scot I’ve got to talk to someone about this or I’ll go bonkers.”
“You… and Stephanie?” Scot stared at Phillip who responded with a glum nod.
“God help me, as we speak she is in her room kissing that douche bag, Kevin Wiley. I thought after we shagged it would work itself out, apparently not.”
Scot sat down across from Phillip. His hands went to his temples, as if holding his head in place would keep it from exploding. “What are you going to do?”
The door suddenly opened and Bret rushed in.
“Hi.” Bret seemed almost giddy. “I just finished talking with Ian, but wanted to tell you myself.’” He glanced from Phillip to Scot, seeming to notice the uneasiness in the room. He cleared his throat.