by Lizzie Shane
“Daniel. We need to talk.”
Now to see how long it took him to man up and face the music. The clock was ticking.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Will’s cell began to vibrate as he was kicking the snow off his boots on his deck on Thursday night. It was his day off, but the powder had been too good to resist. It was one of those crisp clear blue-sky days where the vistas were so beautiful they hurt your eyes and every breath of air reminded you how good it was to be alive. The only thing that would make his ski-high better would be if he could see Caitlyn. Maybe grab some dinner, coax her into a little fooling around, get her to play something sexy on the piano…
And as soon as he’d thought it, his phone began to buzz.
He used his teeth to pull off his gloves, yanked at his jacket zipper and fished out the phone in a rush to get to it before it could go to voicemail. He didn’t bother to check caller ID, grinning as he lifted the phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
There was a pause, as if he’d caught her off guard and she had to mentally regroup after planning to leave a message. Then a hesitant. “Will. It’s good to hear your voice.”
His blood froze. Not Caitlyn. Shit. “Tria. I can’t say the same.”
“I suppose I deserve that,” she murmured, soft and wounded. She’d always been good at playing the victim. Even when she was the one waving the knife and stabbing him in the back. “We saw you on TMZ. She’s really cute, Will. Your new girl. We’re so happy for you. We’ve been hoping you’d find someone. Move on.”
It took him a while to process what she was saying. He kept getting caught up in the we. She’d been doing that from the day she’d broken off the engagement. We’re sorry, Will. We never meant to hurt you. Andy and I care about you very much. It was like they’d stopped having opinions of their own. A united front against him. We are breaking your heart.
Wait, TMZ? What the hell?
“It’s Caitlyn, right? That’s her name? We’d love to meet her. Maybe we could all get together—”
“She isn’t my girlfriend. She’s just a neighbor.”
Tria was silent for a moment, as if stung by the sharpness of his denial. Always the victim. “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that. She has a really sweet face.”
“What do you want, Tria?”
A slow gathering breath. “We want to put this behind us. Andy and I never meant to hurt you. And we certainly never intended to screw you out of the down payment on the house, but with the economy the way it is, you know how hard things have been for Andy financially, and we just couldn’t scrape together the capital to buy you out last summer. If you’d just talk to us, I’m sure we can work something out and forget the legal nonsense. We’re trying to secure a loan. We just don’t want to lose our home, Will.”
“It isn’t your house, Tria.”
“I thought you didn’t want it. When you moved out…”
“I moved out because I couldn’t stand to look at it knowing what you’d done. That doesn’t make it yours.”
Andy had always been awful with money. He’d never be able to afford to keep her the way she wanted to be kept anyway. Best they discover that now. Will had used half his savings and borrowed from his parents to get together enough money to buy the damn thing for her. Because he’d thought they would be filling all five of those bedrooms with their kids. Growing old there.
Tria sighed, so damn wounded. “Will, I’m trying to make things right. What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to stop calling me. If you have something to say to me, tell my lawyer.”
“Will, please. Be reasonable. We don’t want—”
We, again. “Goodbye, Tria.”
He must have stood on the deck for five minutes, holding his phone in one hand while his brain simmered incoherently. Then the other shoe dropped.
“Goddamn TMZ.”
Her recently re-hung door shuddered under a rain of blows. Will’s voice came through the wood, hard and urgent. “Caitlyn, open up.”
Her hair still wet from the shower, dripping down the back of the T-shirt and work-out shorts she’d put on after, she rushed to the door. Was there another fire? She hadn’t heard that sharp, demanding tone from him since the night they met.
She threw back the lock, yanked open the door, and there he was. The dark god. Anger stood out sharp on his face, making his cheekbones seem even more starkly chiseled and his dark eyes almost devilishly black.
“We’re on TMZ.”
“Oh Jesus.” She swayed back, opening the door wider, and he stalked past her into the apartment.
Panic flared. What could they have seen? What if there had been a photographer lurking around the other night? Shooting through her windows. Her lying on top of Will—not kissing, but just that would be enough.
Hello, Breach of Contract. Goodbye, Life Savings.
“What do they…?”
He extended the smart phone she hadn’t noticed in his hand. “See for yourself.”
The first picture took a moment to register because it was so far from what she was expecting. Two blurry bodies, wrapped around one another in a hot tub—Elena and Daniel. It was a still from Tuesday’s episode—an interlude which Daniel had yet to explain, though he’d left messages when he knew she would be teaching, telling her it had been edited to look worse than it was. She scrolled past the picture, and the two following which showed Daniel wearing a starlet like a human blanket at what was captioned as a “popular LA nightspot.” Only then did she see the photo that had Will pacing angrily across her living room.
The pictures were much more innocent than she’d feared. The photographer had caught them the night of their non-date, walking back to the chalet through the snow. She was holding his arm, tucked against his side, but there was nothing intimate or scandalous about the shot. Her face was turned away from him, toward the camera, smiling shyly, and he was looking down at the top of her head, a slight smile quirking his own lips. They definitely looked friendly and it could have been intimate—which was exactly what TMZ was implying. Especially in combination with the next shot, which showed him holding the door to the chalet as they went inside.
They’d just gone home to their separate apartments, nothing could be more innocent, but it looked incriminating and that was all that mattered to the gossip rag.
“It’s not that bad,” she said, watching Will prowl the room. “It looks like they don’t even have your name.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
She held his smart phone out to him and he snatched it out of her hand on his next prowling pass. “I can talk to the show’s PR people, see about issuing a statement that we’re just friends.”
He shook his head, more in anger than denial. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I should have expected something like this after the pictures with Mimi popped up. It was too much to hope that the photographer would have left town.”
He was still stalking, barely looking at her. “I never wanted to be mixed up with a celebrity.”
“I’m not a celebrity. This’ll blow over.”
“Maybe if we’d met at a different time, things could have been different.”
She suddenly got the sense they were having very different conversations. “Will, what are you saying?”
“I don’t need this right now. I’m sorry, Caitlyn.”
He was breaking up with her. Except they weren’t dating. A spike of something drove into her heart—panic, denial. She didn’t want to lose him. She was more frightened of the thought of never seeing him again than she’d ever been of losing Daniel. She couldn’t be with him, not in any real way, but to lose him…
“Will, wait.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words sharp and final. Like the sound of the door shutting behind him.
So much for perfect.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Of course Daniel called first thing Frida
y morning. He had the photos of her with Will to use as ammo now if she started a fight about Elena and the Jacuzzi. But if he thought that balanced the scales, he had critically misjudged her.
She’d had a sleepless night thinking about Will, Daniel, Elena and what she really wanted out of life. Daniel might be a master of side-stepping confrontation, but she was having this out.
When she saw his number on the display, she didn’t even bother with a greeting.
“Do you have that TMZ photographer on speed dial?” she snapped after swiping her thumb to accept the call.
“Sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re implying, but I had nothing to do with this most recent story.” His voice was scolding, with a note of indulgence. “Do you want to tell me about those photos?”
She wanted to snap I don’t have to explain myself to you. But he was still her fiancé. For at least another two minutes. And she didn’t want him thinking she’d cheated on him. He didn’t deserve that.
“He’s just a friend. My downstairs neighbor. Nothing happened.” Not that I didn’t want it to. “We were walking back from grabbing a burger at the pub and I took his arm to steady myself on the ice. It was completely innocent.” Even if I wanted to be much less innocent. “Can you say the same about Elena and the Jacuzzi?”
“I know that looked bad,” Daniel said sheepishly. “But you know how the show is. Everyone telling you to go with it and she’s so aggressive. I put a stop to it almost immediately, but of course they don’t show that part. I had no idea it was going to look so graphic. I’m sorry you had to see that, sweetheart.”
Sorry you had to see it. Not sorry I did it. Not I love you and I would do it differently if I had it to do over. Just sorry you caught me. She’d heard too much of those sorts of lying apologies out of her mother’s mouth not to recognize one.
“Daniel, I don’t want you to think this is about Elena. It’s a lot more than that—”
“My thoughts exactly. There’s a story about us being played out in the press and we need to get in front of it. They’re portraying our relationship as toxic and saying you’re hooking up with that guy to retaliate against me for what happened with Elena on Tuesday. Of course, it isn’t true, I believe you, baby, but it’s catching on and we need to get on the same page and approach this with a solid counter story—”
“I don’t think I want to get married.”
“Caitlyn.”
And there it was. He was capable of saying her name.
“And I’m positive I don’t want to get married on the reunion episode. I’m not saying we can’t ever have a future together, but I think I need to not be thinking about getting married while the show is airing. Afterwards, when we can have a normal discussion that doesn’t include the press, we can talk about it, decide what’s right for us, but right now, when I can’t even see you, I think the best thing—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Baby. I know this week has been rough, but let’s not be hasty. I don’t want to fight. Let’s both take some time to think about this and we’ll talk about it again in a few days. Remember Barbados? Remember how great it was? That’s next week. Watch the episode. You’ll remember why we fell in love in the first place. Okay? Just give us a chance.”
“Daniel—”
“I love you, baby. I love you so much. Give us a chance. That’s all I’m asking.” The connection went dead.
Caitlyn somehow managed not to throw the phone across the room. She dropped it in the trash can instead.
Twenty minutes punishing the piano with bone-jarring Wagner didn’t help her mood.
She put on her professional face when her first student of the day arrived, but her smile felt more and more forced as the day progressed and more and more parents who usually dropped their kids off and picked them up without coming inside felt the need to pop in just to see how she was handling things and find out how she was holding up.
By the time her last student of the day left at six-fifteen, she was ready to scream.
So of course her house phone blared as soon as she turned on the ringer and the caller-ID listed a New York number. “Of course,” she growled, “the one thing that could make this day complete.”
She stabbed the button to connect the call. “Hello, Mother.”
“Who is that scruffy man with you on Access Hollywood? Are you screwing things up with that lovely Daniel?”
Caitlyn grimaced. She really should have known things with Daniel were too good to be true when her mother liked him. “What makes you think he isn’t screwing things up with me? Did you miss the video of Daniel sucking face with Elena?”
“You’re the one who wanted to go on a show like that. It’s what they do.”
Caitlyn gritted her teeth. “Were you calling for a reason? Or just to make me feel worse about myself?”
“Caitlyn. The things you say.” Her mother sniffed indignantly. “I just thought you would want to know that I spoke with our contacts at the Los Angeles Philharmonic and they’re very receptive to the idea of hosting you as a resident artist as you make your comeback.”
“Mother. We’ve been over this. I’m not making a comeback. I hate performing.”
“Darling. No one is as good at something as you are without enjoying it. Daniel told me how amazing you were when you performed for him at Carnegie. Just imagine every chair filled for you.”
The pieces fell into place. The Los Angeles Philharmonic. His not-so-veiled attempts to get her to move out to LA early. “Have you been talking to Daniel about this alleged comeback?”
A slight, telling pause. “We both want what’s best for you.”
“And what I want is to be allowed to decide what is best for myself. Like an adult. I don’t like performing.” She was drowning in déjà vu. How many times had she and her mother had this argument in the last few years?
“Your music is a gift to the world.”
“My music is for me and my students now. And I’m done discussing it. If this is all you called to talk about, I’m going to hang up now.” She actually loved this woman, though sometimes it was hard to remember that.
“This stubbornness is very unattractive, Caitlyn.”
“Goodbye, Mother.”
She disconnected the call, turned the ringer back off, and turned off both her personal and Marrying Mister Perfect cell phones. She sat on the couch, not bothering to turn on the lights as the sun set, hugging herself and watching as the night skiing lights came on up the mountain.
The show had been a mistake. She could wallow in that or she could fix it. But how? What could she do to undo the mess her life had become? She was sort of engaged to a man who kept hanging up on her when she tried to break off their engagement. Her mother was planning her comeback tour with her unwanted fiancé. The one man she did want was probably up on that mountain now, mad at her because she’d splashed his face—and now his name, since the reporters had uncovered it—all over the national gossip shows. Her life had become a sideshow and all she could do was hold onto her sanity by a thread as her love life was writ large across television screens all across America for another month and a half.
She slumped on the couch, the previous night’s lack of sleep catching up with her, until finally the dizzy spirals of her thoughts sank into a restless sleep, plagued by nightmares of Carnegie Hall, filled with hundreds and hundreds of Daniels, all applauding wildly and telling her she was happy and it would all be okay, as she played until her fingers broke against the keys, bent and mangled.
She woke with a jolt, holding her hands up in horror until the dream cleared enough for her to recognize the nightmare for what it was.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, painting her apartment in morning, and a low knocking came from her door. Caitlyn stumbled to her feet, smoothing her slept-in clothes and made her way to the door. The peep hole showed Will and her heart leapt wildly before she firmly informed it that he was pissed at her and had been a total jerk about the TMZ thing.
&nb
sp; She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and cracked open the door, squinting up at him dubiously.
“I’m a dickhead.” His expression was abjectly repentant. “I’m sorry I freaked about the TMZ thing. I tried calling, but your voicemail box is full.”
She let the door open a little more. “I’m sorry you got caught up in the show drama.”
He shrugged. “You’re worth it.”
And just like that her heart rolled over in her chest. Still off-limits, dummy, she told it. She may or may not still be engaged to Daniel, but she was still absolutely forbidden from having relationships for another six weeks.
“Have people been staring at you as much as they’ve been staring at me?” he asked.
“I’ve been hiding,” she admitted. “Is it bad?”
“You’d be amazed how many people want selfies with me now. I think half of them didn’t even recognize me, they just saw other people wanting pictures and jumped on the bandwagon. I’m the most popular guy on the mountain.”
She groaned. “I’m so sorry—”
“I know. Look, yesterday was nuts so I traded some shifts to clear my schedule today. Give it some time to die down. I was thinking of ditching my phone and skipping town for the day. I wouldn’t mind some company. Wanna get out of here?”
“God, yes.” She flung the door open all the way, not caring if he saw at her rumpled, slept-in worst as long as they could escape. “Give me five minutes to get dressed.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Caitlyn leaned her shoulder against the passenger door and sighed, eyeing Will as he drove, tension she hadn’t realized she was holding releasing. “How do you always know exactly what I need? I was just thinking about how badly I want to escape my life right now and poof, there you are with a plan to do just that.”
Will shrugged, steering his Jeep down the winding road toward the main highway. “Just my natural genius, I guess. Though my sisters will probably want to take credit. They like to claim responsibility for the fact that I am a sensitive man.” He jerked his chin at the road sign ahead. “What do you think? East or west? Vegas or Florida?”