"Oh, Chels," Julia commiserated. "He'll be here. Don't worry."
"I'm honestly getting mad now," Chelsie said. "I know I should have told him about the article, but nothing happened with Noah. He should know that. It’s not fair to ignore me on my birthday." The tears threatened to reemerge, so Chelsie chugged her drink instead.
"He's being a jerk," Julia agreed. "A total man-child. Forget about him and enjoy yourself."
Just then, Noah appeared in the crowd. "Hey, stranger. Long time, no see."
Chelsie perked up when she spotted him. Noah had cleaned up nicely in a pair of jeans that probably cost more than her rent, and a navy-blue button down over a black band tee. When he leaned in to hug her, his Usher cologne tickled her nose. "You smell good," she said.
"Uh, thanks," Noah chuckled. "It sure beats the smell of ‘Dad Life’ from thirty minutes ago. Sam thought it would be hilarious to make me a spaghetti hat. So, tonight we are thankful for hot showers and Usher. Also, that's why I'm late.”
Chelsie grinned despite herself. Noah had a sneaky way of doing that, no matter how miserable she might feel. “Cheers to that,” she said, holding up her empty glass. “Oh, um… any word from Devon?” She was almost too scared to ask.
Noah looked confused. “He’s not here?”
“Nope. And zero contact since his text this afternoon.”
Noah pulled out his phone to call Devon, but the moment it started to ring, Devon entered the bar.
“Wait, he’s here. I see him.” Chelsie’s eyes lit up. Butterflies fluttered in her belly as she braced herself for the potential confrontation.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she replied.
“Can we talk?” Devon slipped his hands into his pockets as he approached Chelsie.
“Of course.”
Her eyes darted to Noah for just a moment as she followed her boyfriend out of the bar. He offered her the faintest smile.
“Devon, what is going on? You’ve been dodging my calls and ignoring me all day. On my birthday. It… hurts.” Tears brimmed in Chelsie’s eyes, despite her efforts to hold them back.
Devon pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Chelsie, I care about you. A whole fucking lot. And I get that we’re going to be in the public eye – there’s no escaping that.”
Chelsie frowned. “You can’t seriously be upset about that article,” she insisted. “It’s a dramatic fabrication. You know that. You know me.”
“Do I?”
The insinuation caught her off guard. “What?”
“Do I really know you?” Devon repeated. “We’ve only been dating a few months and I feel like you spend more time with my guitarist than me. I feel like I’m in a competition with Noah and it’s starting to piss me off. Yeah, the tabloids are bullshit. But it also opened my eyes to what’s been going on with you two.”
Chelsie was taken aback by the accusation. “Devon, there’s nothing going on. Noah and I are friends. Good friends. I adore his son. That’s all.” A sense of panic swept over her. Was Devon about to end things? Was this it?
He blew out a puff of smoke, his eyes focused away from her. “Do you love me?”
Chelsie’s breath caught in her throat. Love. They had never used that word before. Her only experience with love had been dependence, isolation, abuse, and control. Devon was none of those things. He celebrated her independence. He was nurturing and kind. He appreciated her for everything she was – flaws and all.
Yes. She was head over heels in love with Devon Sawyer.
“I do,” Chelsie whispered. She stepped forward and closed the gap between them. She took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “I love you, Devon.”
Devon’s features softened. His posture relaxed. He tossed his cigarette and wrapped his arms around her in a fierce hold. “Shit, Chelsie, I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry, babe.”
He hugged her tight, and she let out a sigh of relief. “I understand why you were upset, but please… just talk to me. I need you to talk to me,” she said. She tilted her head to place a soft kiss on his lips.
Devon deepened the kiss and pulled her tighter. “I will. I’m sorry this happened on your birthday,” he apologized. “I just needed time to cool off – gather my thoughts. I’m not the jealous type, I swear. This just triggered me for some reason.”
Chelsie nodded in understanding. “Is it because of Noah specifically? Is there something between you two that I don’t know about?”
Devon pulled back and plucked out another cigarette. “I guess you could say that,” he shrugged, lighting up and leaning back against the brick wall. “I mean, there’s always been some friendly competition between us for as long as I can remember. But things shifted a bit during his relationship with Ruby.”
Chelsie was really beginning to hate that woman. “What did she do?”
Devon laughed. “What didn’t she do? She was a viper. Noah was a complete idiot for staying with her for so long.”
Chelsie felt slightly offended. What would Devon think of her if he knew about Ian and all the things she had put up with? “People do crazy things when they think they’re in love,” she offered in defense.
“Yeah,” he sniffed. “They sure do.”
Chelsie smiled and closed the gap between them once more. She rested her head on his chest. “Can we forget all this ever happened? I’d really like to make this a good birthday.”
“Yeah?”
Chelsie could hear the smile in his voice. She glanced up at him without pulling away. “Yes, please.”
Devon shuffled back into his pockets and pulled out a small, badly wrapped package. “Well, I got you something,” he said.
“There are reindeer,” she grinned.
Devon chuckled at the festive wrapping paper. “Sorry, it was all I had.”
Chelsie accepted the gift and eyed it carefully, her fingers moving to unwrap it.
“Don’t freak out,” Devon warned. “It’s not exactly what you think.”
Beneath the paper was a jewelry box and inside the box was a ring. “Um, Devon?” Chelsie studied the treasure. It was a claddagh ring with a turquoise stone in the middle.
“It’s a promise ring,” Devon explained. “And it has your birthstone in it.”
Chelsie was touched by the gift – a promise ring from Devon Sawyer. Her boyfriend. There was only one problem: her birthstone was a peridot. She decided to ignore the oversight and jumped into his arms with a commanding hug. “I absolutely love it. Thank you so much.”
Devon returned the hug and kissed the top of her head. “You’re welcome, Chelsie. Now, let’s go celebrate.”
The night had taken a turn for the better as the hours progressed. Chelsie swallowed down her third “Sex on the Beach” shot with Julia and Lisa. She had a nice buzz going on and she was back in Devon’s good graces. Even the bartender she had knocked over was full of smiles and free drinks. The famous people on her arm may have had something to do with that.
“Another round for the birthday girl,” Noah ordered, pointing at Chelsie and waving down the waitress.
“Are you trying to get me drunk again?” Chelsie smirked.
“I’m honestly just trying to see those awesome dance moves again,” he teased. He took a big swig of his whiskey. “So, if that’s what it takes.”
The three girls laughed in response as a new round of drinks were set in front of them.
“To Chelsie,” Lisa proclaimed, holding up her cocktail. “The sweetest girl I know.”
“The luckiest girl I know,” Julia chimed in. She winked at Devon.
Chelsie ducked her head. “You guys are too much. I do feel lucky. Thanks for making my birthday so special.” She clinked her glass with her friends.
“To Chelsie,” Devon said. “My amazing girlfriend. My biggest cheerleader. My number one fan.”
She gave him a big kiss, then turned her attention to Noah. “Okay, okay, let me hear it,” she joked, waving her hands in anticipation.
>
“Is this where I give you a shining tribute?” Noah wondered.
“Obviously. Birthday girl here. I’m needy and buzzing and I need to feel the love.” Chelsie gave him a playful punch on the shoulder as she sipped her mixed drink. Then she stuck her tongue out in disgust. “God, what is this? Motor oil?”
“Whiskey sour,” Noah corrected. “It’s delicious. Drink up.”
“I don’t think I like whiskey,” Chelsie scowled.
“You’ll learn to. As for a toast… I actually did get you a little something.”
Chelsie straightened in her chair, intrigued. “Really? You didn’t have to get me a gift.” She fiddled with the promise ring on her finger as Noah reached over to the chair behind him.
“It’s not much. It’s actually terrible,” he said. “Sorry.”
She frowned with curious apprehension. “Thanks?”
He handed her something wrapped in construction paper. “Try not to rip the wrapping. That part is from Sam.”
Chelsie smiled as she ran her fingers over the orange paper. “Sam is the best.” She carefully pulled the paper apart to reveal a picture drawn in colored markers. It looked to be a drawing of a stick figure standing with a smaller stick figure.
“That’s you and Sam,” Noah explained. He pointed out a scribble in the corner. “And that’s Curious George. Not sure how he got in there.”
Chelsie felt like she could cry. Then she looked down at the other gift in her hand, covered in a thin layer of tissue paper. She tore it open and found a DVD copy of the film “Citizen Kane”.
“See? Terrible,” Noah said, shaking his head. “I don’t think people watch DVDs anymore, but I had to get you something.”
Chelsie reached out and squeezed his arm. She was beyond grateful for the gift. It was thoughtful. It meant something. “I love it,” she told him. “Thanks, Noah.”
Devon cleared his throat. “Let’s hear it for the birthday girl. Happy twenty-seventh, Chelsie.”
Everyone raised their glass and Chelsie looked around at her tribe. The day had gotten off to a rocky start, but she felt more blessed than ever. She recalled a life when her birthdays had consisted of violent sex, mental abuse, and a feeling of hopelessness and despair. Ian had always made sure he brought his “A” game on her birthdays. The only celebration had been that she had survived another day.
It was hard to believe this was her life now. Her abuser was behind bars and a rock god was by her side. She only wished her parents were here to see her happiness.
The hours rolled on and Chelsie decided to call it a night. It was almost 3 A.M. when she stumbled into her apartment, grabbing the mail on the way in.
“Hey, Misty,” she greeted. The cat purred and curled around her ankles. Chelsie yawned and sifted through the assortment of bills in her hand. “Happy birthday to me,” she grumbled to the credit card statements and utility notices. As she was about to toss the pile onto the table, a return address caught her eye.
Auburn Correctional Facility
Chelsie recognized the handwriting on the envelope. Her stomach dropped. Her throat closed. Her airways tightened. With shaking fingers, Chelsie opened the small envelope. Inside was a simple birthday card with an animated picture of a teddy bear holding a red balloon. Sucking in a shaky breath, she opened the card.
“I hope your birthday is full of surprises. – Ian”
Car headlights flashed in her open window, momentarily blinding her. Chelsie’s apartment window faced the building’s parking lot, so it was nothing out of the ordinary. But it was enough for a deep-seated feeling of dread to creep into her pores. She rushed over to the window and pulled the curtains closed. She wrung her hands together and closed her eyes as she tried to calm her nerves.
Chelsie reached for her cell phone and automatically began to call Devon. She paused when she remembered Devon knew nothing about her grim past and convicted felon of an ex-boyfriend. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she scrolled further down her contacts and landed on Noah. A pang of guilt coursed through her when she saw his name – she should be confiding in her boyfriend. She should give Devon the opportunity to calm her fears. But what if he saw her in a completely different light after discovering her past? What if he didn’t want her anymore once he knew how broken she was? Chelsie couldn’t risk that. Noah only knew because of a technicality – a drunken, embarrassing technicality. Her darkness needed to stay hidden from Devon Sawyer.
Noah picked up on the first ring. “Combs? Did you get home okay?”
Chelsie noticed her arm was trembling as she held the phone to her ear. “Noah, I think he’s back. I think Ian’s back.”
10 Chapter Ten
Sunday morning began with a much needed band meeting. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the studio as the Freeze Frame members sauntered in. Everyone looked tired and hungover.
Tad and Miles had joined the birthday party festivities a little after midnight. They were looking rough – a sure sign of a successful Saturday night. Tad had a box of donuts under his arm as he approached the meeting table, and the group flocked like vultures to the sweet treats.
“Mornin’,” Miles said with a giant yawn.
Noah snatched the only cream-filled donut and stuffed it in his mouth. “What’s up,” he replied, his greeting muffled by the pastry. Noah was feeling exhausted and restless. He had been up until sunrise talking on the phone with a paranoid Chelsie.
“You need to move in with Devon,” he had told her. “You’ll be safer there.”
Chelsie had refused. She was too “independent” and had worked too hard to recreate herself to give it up. She never wanted to depend on a man for anything.
“My apartment is like my trophy,” she had said. “It means I did it. It means I survived.”
Noah couldn’t argue that. So, he listened. He did what he could to lessen her nerves until she drifted off to sleep as the sun came up.
“Hey there, sunshines,” Sean said as he entered the room. “No rest for the wicked. Hope you boys put on your business pants this morning.”
“Dude, you’re lucky I managed to put on any pants at all,” Tad grumbled.
Devon slid into the seat next to Noah looking disheveled and smelling like alcohol. “How late did you stay out?” Noah asked as he reached for another donut. Noah had left shortly after Chelsie and the girls took off around two o’clock.
Devon ran a hand over his weary face. “Late.” He did not elaborate.
Noah was surprised that Devon had continued to party with the other band members. He had never been a big drinker – especially if they had band-related business the next morning.
“All right, my friends.” Sean perked up as he took a seat at the round table. “Let’s talk Grammy’s. I want to discuss game plan. We’re only a few months out. I know you boys think you’re untouchable, but you’re not even close to being ready.”
“Sean’s right, man,” Miles agreed. “We totally botched up ‘Super Sonic’ at the Cherrywood show. No excuse for that.”
“That was a fluke,” Devon argued. “No one noticed. You know we can play that song in our sleep.”
“That was my bad,” Tad acknowledged. “I was sloppy.”
Sean nodded. “I’ll be honest… it hasn’t been the first time in recent months. Everything okay, Tad?”
Noah glanced over at the beefy drummer. He had been so preoccupied with his own shit, he hadn’t noticed his friend’s sunken-in eyes and blank stare. “Yeah, man,” Noah added. “You know we’re here if there’s something going on. There’s no going down that road again.”
Tad winced at the insinuation. “I’m fine. Ain’t nothing to worry about in that department.” He crossed his arms over his barreling chest and leaned back on the legs of his chair. “What about the Aberdeen lawsuit? Any word on that?”
Sean dismissed him. “Jackson is taking care of that. That’s what the suits are for.”
“Hey, when’s my endorsement shoot for
Gibson happening?” Noah wondered. He realized he was seriously out of the loop. He skimmed through the calendar on his phone. “Shit.”
“Yeah, that would be tomorrow, buddy,” Sean said. “Hope you’ve got it covered.”
“And my charity event for the school is Friday, right?” Devon confirmed, scribbling down notes. “Then we’ve got the show at El Rey on Saturday night.”
“I fucking hate Los Angeles.” Miles tossed his half-eaten donut back in the box.
“Suck it up, princess,” Sean replied. “The fans eat you up there. I’m working on the set list for El Rey. I’ll e-mail it over tonight.”
Noah sighed, feeling depleted. He glanced up at their manager, Sean, as he typed away on his device. Sean was a good guy. He was the one who had taken a chance on them when they were struggling artists playing at the local clubs. He was slightly overweight and alarmingly tall, with black-rimmed glasses and a crew cut. He was a happy-go-lucky guy and he treated them right.
“Back to Grammy’s,” Sean said, looking up from his screen. “I’ll admit, I’m nervous.”
Devon scoffed. “We’re all nervous. It’s the goddamn Grammy’s. I’m probably going to piss myself in front of Beyonce.”
The group chuckled.
“I’m serious, kids,” Sean scolded. “You’re not ready. I’m noticing a seriously lack of professionalism and dedication lately. You’re sloppy, you’re preoccupied, and you haven’t even mastered the new song yet.” He shook his head in disappointment. “I believe in you, boys. But it’s time to get your shit together.”
Noah gulped down his coffee and stood up from his chair. The new song was called “Hometown Girl” and it was about Chelsie Combs. Devon wrote it while on tour the month prior, and it was about to hit the radio. “Let’s practice tomorrow after my Gibson shoot,” Noah suggested. “We’ll get it done. We need to nail down a few others, too. And hey, weren’t we hiring on a new marketing rep?”
Sean nodded. “Yes. I’m on it.”
Noah pushed his chair in and tossed his empty cup in the trash can. “I’m off. I need to spend some time with my kiddo before this crazy ass week. Later.”
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