Homecoming Queen: A Second Chance Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 2)

by Fabiola Francisco

  The girls tell me about their school, their teachers, and their friends. They talk a ton about June, which makes me equally happy and envious. My career choice doesn’t allow for much family time, and I’m glad they now have June to fill the aunt role. However, I’m supposed to be that to them. The person they count on, talk to about their lives, to take them to the park or the river. I wish they’d see me as more than their famous singer aunt. They’re growing up quickly, and I’m missing out on it.

  I smile, looking between them as they tell me how they helped Uncle Miles propose. I couldn’t believe it when he told me he and the girls wrote a book for June. Then, the subject changes, and Chloe’s eyes cast down. It’s the first sign I’ve seen all day that she’s not happy.

  “We talk to a lady about what happened in the fire,” Charlie’s talking, but my eyes are glued to Chloe.

  I tap her foot under the table and smile, winking when she looks at me. Her lips pinch together, and my heart breaks. She’s stopped eating her ice cream, and her little body is tense.

  “Come ‘ere.” I grab her and bring her to my lap, kissing the top of her head. I hug her tightly with one arm and drag her ice cream closer, so I can help her eat it. Charlie’s looking at us with dipped eyebrows and a face full of chocolate.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Chloe.

  She shakes her head and buries her face into my chest.

  “It’s okay, sweetie.” I hold her to me and smile at Charlie, who’s now frowning. “How about we play a game while we finish our ice creams?” I suggest.

  “Okay…” Charlie draws out.

  “It’s called I Spy. You have to say you see something of a certain color, and the others have to guess the item. For example, I spy something…blue.” I say after finding an item.

  Charlie looks around, and I nudge Chloe. “Find something blue and guess if that’s the answer.”

  She lifts her head and looks around. Charlie lifts her finger and guesses, “That purse?”

  I shake my head. “How about you, Chlo? Take a guess.” She shrugs. “Come on.” I shake her on my lap.

  “That shirt,” she whispers.

  “Nope,” I smile, tickling her. She finally eases up, sitting taller and looking around the ice cream shop.

  “Her bracelet?” Charlie’s voice rises, and I hush her. My eyes follow to where she’s pointing and smile apologetically.

  “Ding, ding, ding. You’re right!”

  “Awesome!” She shimmies. “My turn?”

  “Yup. Look around carefully, find something, and then say the color,” I guide her through the process.

  “Pink,” Charlie announces without another word.

  Chloe looks around and says, “That girl’s hair.”

  “That was fast,” Charlie slouches, chocolate ice cream dripping down her hand.

  “How about I get you a cup for your ice cream and some more napkins?” I look at the mess with wide eyes.

  “Okay, yeah, Daddy and Uncle Miles usually do that.” I could’ve used a head’s up.

  I sit Chloe down and head toward the counter, grabbing a cup and a huge stack of napkins along with a water bottle. Turning, I bump into someone.

  “Oh, sorry.” I step back and look at the person. My heart slams to a full stop, and my eyes widen when I see him, and take in his hard features, indifferent gaze, and tight jaw.

  “No problem,” his deep voice snaps me out of the moment, and I focus on him in time for him to step around me as if I were a stranger. No, worse…a nuisance. I will my feet to walk back to the table, blinking back tears and telling myself not to look back.

  Tate Carrington is another thing I gave up when I chose to leave for Nashville. As the girls continue playing, I watch him out of the corner of my eye. When he sits at a table with Stephanie Winston, my stomach drops—the way she smiles at him tells me he isn’t just a casual acquaintance.

  I turn away, biting back tears, and focus on the girls. It’s a lost cause, though. Knowing he’s a few feet away from me with someone else, it’s more than I can handle. I’ve been a mess lately, and this is the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  “Hurry, girls. We gotta go.”

  “Awww, already?” Charlie pouts, but it’s hard to take it seriously with the chocolate goatee she’s working. I giggle and nod. Thank goodness these cuties can make me feel better.

  “Yeah, I’m having dinner at Uncle Miles’s house, and you girls can’t be too full when you eat dinner, or Grandma and your daddy will get mad at me.”

  We clean up, and I help Charlie wipe her hands as much as possible. I’d love to avoid the bathroom since Tate’s table is on the way, so I soak the napkins with water from the bottle I bought and wipe away all the chocolate proof until we get to my parents’ house. She can clean up there.

  I rush them out without a backward glance and ignore the obvious rumor mill that began circulating in the shop as soon as I crashed into Tate. All the while, my heart slams against my ribs. As it turns out, everything I’ve worked for hasn’t been worth everything I gave up.

  Chapter 4

  Madison

  I tap the do not disturb option on my phone after it continues to ring despite my efforts to ignore each call. I should just turn it off. I sink into the lounge chair with my e-reader, reading a book June recommended when I had dinner at Miles’s house the other night. The weather is warm here despite being fall, and it’s nice to be able to sit out and relax with the view of the pool.

  To say that the town’s abuzz because I’m visiting is an understatement. Yesterday a few teen girls asked for my autograph, which made me chuckle since I’ve known their moms since I was a little girl. To the kids in town, I’m Rose Carlisle, the celebrity. To the rest of town, I’m Nathaniel and Sarah’s little girl. Though they still see us with fame-blurred vision, it’s not as severe.

  I focus on the page again once I’ve stopped my phone from going off and attempt to get lost in a world that provides a happy outcome. I wish my life was like that. These last few days have been exhausting acting as normal as possible with my family, hiding parts of myself, and pulling out the girl they remember so they won’t question what’s wrong.

  I don’t know how much longer I can pretend nothing is wrong. Every time I close my eyes, memories rush me. Every time I look at myself in the mirror, I see my cowardice. If I only knew that when I signed my contract all those years ago, I’d also signed my soul to the devil. Or maybe I wouldn’t have done anything differently. The naïve girl hungry for a record deal would’ve been in denial so she could get what she wanted.

  Seeing as my mind won’t stop working, I drop the e-reader on my chest and close my eyes. All I want is one day where I’m not flooded by memories. I thought coming home with the excuse that I wanted to see my family after the fire would help me disconnect.

  Soft steps echo behind me, but I keep my eyes closed. When I feel a shadow over me, I peek one eye open. The other eye pops open when I see Ms. Sullivan sitting on the lounge chair next to me.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hi, Madison.” Her face is hard to read, so I sit up and face her. I wait for her to speak, unsure of what she needs.

  Ms. Sullivan sighs and offers a small smile. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Huh?” My eyebrows lift. “Nothing,” I tag on quickly.

  “I’ve known you since you were a baby. I’ve watched you grow up, helped raise you… I don’t buy it.” She shakes her head, giving me her signature no-nonsense, arched brow look.

  “I’m okay,” I try to ease her mind.

  “And I’m suddenly rich.” Her lips pinch together in a ‘don’t bullshit me’ look as her eyebrow raises even more than humanly possible. I don’t know how she does that, but she’s been giving us that look since I can remember every time she needed us to confess to something or figured out what we’d done.

  When I don’t crack, she sighs. “Madison,” she waits until I meet her eyes. “Anything that is going on, you know
you can trust your family. They’ll always be there for you.” She squeezes my hand and smiles. “And the same goes for me.”

  “I appreciate that, but I’m okay. Just tired from all the moving around and back-to-back shows.”

  She sighs heavily and nods. “Talk to your family if you need to. Something’s not right about you.” She points at me as if trying to figure out what it is. Ms. Sullivan has always been intuitive.

  I simply nod, and she stands, leaving me alone with my thoughts and worry that if she could tell something’s wrong, then so could others. I close my eyes, this time allowing myself to drift away, but as soon as I do, images of the harassment I experienced hit me. My heart races, and tears burn my eyes. I snap them open, blinking away those memories. I stand and take a deep breath. Walking around my parents’ large yard, I take in the fresh air and let the sun beam down on me.

  I’m not the first artist to experience harassment or inappropriate treatment, but that doesn’t make it any less painful. It’s part of the business. They’re all the same. Preying snakes biding their time until they’re ready to strike, sure that their victim fully trusts them before they do.

  No amount of deep breaths will calm me when it comes to this. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself, self-protection from an invisible predator.

  Antsy, I walk inside and grab my car keys, heading to the coffee shop in town. I can’t wander around the house any longer, or I’m going to go insane. My mind’s been a mess for months after I realized what was really happening. Then it was like I saw things clearly, light shining on other experiences and seeing them as they are and not as the safety I perceived them to be.

  It wasn’t until one “joke” went too far, and a producer at my label stuck his hand under my skirt and into my underwear. My entire body chilled. My blood stopped flowing, and my world fell apart. When I pushed him away, he turned it around on me, saying I had led him on. I actually fell for it, remembering the few times I ever interacted with him and how I treated him.

  I was always professional, but the seed of doubt was planted, and I started to question every action, every relationship—professional and personal—looking for clues of any teasing. I couldn’t find any. It wasn’t until my best friend, Lauren, snapped me out of it with a cold, hard truth. I’d been molested. If it weren’t for an excited fan that broke up the heated conversation, who knows what else would’ve happened.

  Lauren begged me to tell someone or notify the authorities, but I refused. The threat of what would happen if I spoke would become a reality, and I’d lose everything, beginning with my morals and dignity.

  What was left clear is that if I said anything about it, the narrative would change. I’d get blamed for seducing him, forcing him to sleep with me, and then using it as blackmail for bigger deals. I’d be ruined, not just professionally. Although, in retrospect, I’m already ruined emotionally.

  By the time I park near the coffee shop, I’m trembling. Caffeine may not be the wisest choice for my nerves, but it will soothe me. A warm cup of coffee always comforts me. I snap down the visor and flip open the mirror, looking at my face. Make-up free for the first time in a long time, shaky lips, and sad eyes. This is the new me—a lost mess trying to find her way again. I promised myself that I’d take a break after this last tour and work through everything I’ve been holding in.

  Sliding on my sunglasses, I step out of the car and toward the coffee shop, all the while keeping my breath even to calm my nerves. I keep my gaze down as I walk into The Grind and head straight to the counter. My toe taps the floor as I wait for a couple of people in front of me to order and take a look around. I smile at the familiar faces, but it’s forced and awkward.

  “Hey!” The barista greets me when it’s my turn.

  Taken aback by her bright smile, I say, “Hey…”

  “Sorry, I’m just so excited you’re here.”

  I smile and nod. “Thanks…”

  “What can I get ya?” Her genuine smile eases me a bit.

  After I order a skinny vanilla latte, I sink into an armchair and close my eyes for a moment, allowing the comfort of being home fill me. I’ve lived away for so long, forgotten what it means to be a part of a community. My visits home have been few and far between.

  The door swinging open jolts me, and I open my eyes to see who the newcomer is. My blood drains, and I feel my neck heat. Tate walks in wearing his firefighter uniform with a few of his co-workers. As soon as his eyes land on me and narrow, I bow my head and pretend I’m searching for something in my purse. I must’ve left my phone because I can’t find it, but thankfully I grabbed the e-reader before leaving the house.

  Powering it on, I hear whispers and see one of the guys point me out from the corner of my eye. I knew them all once upon a time. Casting my eyes back down on the tablet, I continue reading the book June recommended and ignore Tate’s presence.

  I lost the right to care about his life the moment I left town. I loved him once, though, and a part of me never stopped. I know he was present the day of the fire, helped save Miles. If things were different, I’d thank him. If he didn’t hate me, resent me for choosing my career over him.

  Maybe coming home wasn’t the best idea, but I’ve never felt more lost in my life, and this is the only place I could think of to get myself grounded and clear-headed.

  I don’t glance up when Tate leaves, but I do release a sigh of relief. Rubbing my forehead with my fingers, I stare at the screen on the e-reader, not paying an ounce of attention to the words.

  “Hey.”

  I look up at the quiet greeting and find June standing before me.

  “Hi,” I smile, leaning back in the seat.

  “Mind if I sit?” She points at the seat across from me awkwardly, holding a coffee cup in the other hand.

  Although I’ve known June for years, I can’t say I’ve ever spent much time getting to know her besides the couple of years when we were young that she’d come to our house in the summers while her mom worked.

  She’s always been reserved, and I understand why. She wasn’t treated well, bullied when we were in school.

  “This is a little awkward, huh?” Her nose scrunches up.

  I laugh and nod. “A little, but only because we haven’t seen each other in years.”

  June relaxes and takes a drink of her coffee. “Are you reading the book we talked about?” She juts her chin toward my lap, where my e-reader sits.

  “I’m attempting to. It’s been hard to focus today.”

  She nods, eyeing me. She bites her lip instead of saying anything, but I can see the words begging to come out.

  “What?” I ask, arching a brow.

  “I saw Tate was just in here…”

  I tense, locking my jaw. “I guess I asked for it when I asked you to speak.”

  “It’s none of my business, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked a little…upset when I walked in.” Her eyes never leave mine.

  “I’m okay, thanks.” I lean forward, grabbing my coffee and drinking it before it gets completely cold.

  “And I guess we’re gonna be sisters-in-law soon, so I thought we could have coffee together.” Nerves roll off her, and I think about all the things Miles has told me about June. Her reluctance to move back home, the resentment she was carrying toward this town, the pain.

  Smiling, I narrow my eyes. “You guess? Are you not sure if you’re gonna get married?”

  June rolls her eyes. When she pushes a strand of hair away from her face, her diamond ring catches the light. “The ‘I guess’ was meant more for having coffee than the marriage. I’m completely sure about that.” Her smile beams pure joy and love, and I’m happy my brother has found someone like her. “I can’t imagine my life without Miles,” she adds quietly, sadness lining her words.

  “Yeah… I’m glad we won’t have to find out how that life would be for a very long time.” If my brother would’ve died as a cause of that fire, I don’t know that I’d ev
er overcome it. We’re more than siblings. Our connection is inexplicable, and unless someone has experienced what it’s like to have a twin, I don’t think they’d be able to grasp it.

  “I think coffee is a great start to getting reacquainted. Now, tell me this… That girl that showed up at the bar is going to be a total bitch, right?” I ask about the story I’ve been reading.

  June giggles and nods. “Oh, yeah. You just wait…”

  We spend the rest of the time talking about the story so far. I share my theories about what will happen, and she keeps her lips sealed. As June and I drink coffee and talk, I forget about Tate, the dick producer, and imprisoning contracts.

  For the first time in years, I’m just a girl having coffee with a friend and enjoying some downtime. I’m not the celebrity, the broken woman, or the indifferent bitch I portray at times to hide my emotions. I’m Madison Carlisle, Willow Creek resident and coffee lover.

  By the time June and I leave, I feel like the day has done a complete one-eighty.

  “We’re going over for dinner, so I’ll see you in a bit,” June says as she shifts on her feet. “I believe it’s a big family dinner tonight.”

  “I didn’t know. Great. And, uh…thanks for sitting with me. I hadn’t realized how much I needed the company.” Talking to June this afternoon was exactly what I needed.

  Her lips barely tip in a smile. “Is everything okay? Miles is worried about you.”

  “He is? About what?” I feel my defenses rising.

  She lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t think he even knows. He just is. He has been for a few months, so I’m glad he’s able to spend time with you.” She squeezes my arm with a smile. “I’ll see you later.”

  I nod, dumbfounded, and stand on the sidewalk. It’s not until someone accidentally bumps into me that I shake away my thoughts and walk to my car. I guess masks only work around those who don’t know you well. Family will always see through them, and my brother knows me too well to have him fooled.