Abby Road

by Ophelia London

  The next thing I knew, my back was pressed against the wall, the emergency phone digging into my spine. Who knows how far we would’ve gotten had the elevator not stopped a few floors down. We broke apart and were standing shoulder to shoulder again when the doors opened and some hipster doofus in a rumpled suit stepped in. Todd nodded a greeting at him and then straightened his shirt that I didn’t even remember untucking.

  I dropped my eyes, trying so hard not to laugh. I didn’t let go of his hand until we reached my Mercedes in the underground parking lot.

  “Please say you know a shortcut,” I pleaded, fastening my seat belt, much too far away from him.

  Todd revved the engine. “Hold on, baby.”

  I whooped as he pealed out.

  Before I knew it, we made a right on North Highland Avenue, a left onto Hollywood Boulevard, and then that historic, glorious Hotel Roosevelt sign came into view, all lit up like a beacon in neon pink.

  Todd practically threw the car keys at the valet guy, not giving the ever-present paparazzi a chance to realize it was us before we were safely inside the lobby. The bleach-blond desk clerk smiled. Todd was about to toss her his entire wallet before he had the presence of mind to simply pull out his driver’s license. One weird look when I explained that we had no luggage and two keycards later, we were on our way to the penthouse.

  “Good thing this VIP elevator isn’t glass,” I gasped after Todd grabbed me around the waist.

  “What elevator?” he murmured, burying his face in my neck.

  My heart was pounding against his, when finally that blessed bell dinged and we hit the twelfth floor.

  “The key,” Todd whispered, breathing hard.

  I gave him a puzzled look.

  “Where is our room key, Abby?”

  “You’re holding it,” I said, pointing to the torn and slightly bent paper envelope in his hand.

  He exhaled a relieved chuckle.

  I stood behind him, pressed against his back, while he attempted to insert the keycard. It took him three tries before the light turned green.

  “Wait,” he said, holding open the door for me. “Your bag isn’t here yet. Is that okay?”

  I smiled up at him. “What exactly will I need?”

  In answer, he grabbed me in a hug, lifted me off my feet, and kicked the door shut behind us.

  Todd stayed behind at the hotel the next morning, claiming that he wanted to take advantage of their gym and Olympic-sized pool, though he was sound asleep when I left at nine thirty. Still bathed in afterglow, it was nearly impossible for me to concentrate on anything while I drove back to the studio. I missed my exit twice.

  Molly was standing outside the elevator when I stepped off. “Max is waiting,” she said, handing me a tall to-go cup of something steamy and lemony.

  I flipped up my sunglasses. “Thanks,” I said, taking a sip.

  She grabbed my jacket and purse. “Band has been here an hour.”

  “I’m not late, am I?” I asked on our way to Max’s office.

  “No,” Molly replied, “but you know Max. He thinks we’re already way behind schedule because of last night.”

  I nodded and took another drink.

  “Speaking of . . .” She let the sentence fade out.

  “Yeah?”

  She linked an arm through mine. “So?”

  “So what?”

  “So.” Molly yanked at my arm, impatiently. “In the rooms at the Roosevelt, do they really have solid gold flecks in the crown molding?”

  “Molly.” I sighed, glancing at her. “I swear under federal oath, I couldn’t tell you what color carpet was on the floor. Or if there even was a floor.”

  Molly patted my arm. “Atta girl.”

  {chapter 23}

  “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER”

  Molly was right. Things were pretty tense all day because of the time we had lost. But whenever my eyes met Todd’s through the glass and he gave me the innocent grin that I now recognized as the complete opposite of innocent, I knew it had been worth it.

  Almost everyone else was allowed to go home around two a.m. The few of us left scattered. Max disappeared into his office. Todd was going to drive back to Malibu; no reason for him to hang around and fall asleep in a chair. Nate left to ride down the elevator with him and grab something out of his car.

  While all this activity was going on, I was promised a thirty-minute break to rest my eyes and voice until the other two were ready to continue recording.

  The stiff vinyl couch in the kitchen wasn’t exactly a king sized bed covered with rose petals, but it would do for a catnap. In all of ninety seconds, I lost consciousness. The low buzzing of the refrigerator was a perfect lullaby.

  I had a nice dream for a change. I saw Todd’s face, fuzzy at first, but then perfectly clear, which only pulled me deeper into my dream. I thought I was remembering parts of last night, but then the scene changed.

  “Why don’t you do something?” Todd was saying to me. His dream voice was hushed but earnest. “You have to do something, before it’s too late.”

  My dream arms struggled to reach out, but a part of me knew they were pinned beneath my sleeping body.

  “Try, Abby. You have to try harder. Now,” dream Todd implored, “because there’s nothing I can do for you. This is all, and it’s not enough.”

  Then he simply floated away.

  Bam!

  My eyes flew open.

  Something must have crashed somewhere down the long maze of hallways. Its echo made me catch my breath. I laid still and tense, listening. There were only murmurs now, low and stifled. Slowly I sat up and rubbed my eyes, thinking I must have dreamed the crash. The kitchen was dark except for the red-and-white Coke machine glowing in the far corner.

  Slam!

  I knew it was real that time, so I swung my legs off the couch and edged toward the door.

  Murmurs reverberated through the dark, empty halls, coming at me from all directions. I neared the lighted control and recording rooms, and the murmurs became voices and then the voices became people.

  “It’s because of me these kids are as rich and famous as they are.” I heard Max before I could see him as I paused at the open door.

  “When were you going to tell them?” a demanding voice growled.

  I froze when I realized it was Todd.

  “When were you going to tell her? Tell her what you did.”

  I’d never heard Todd sound so angry before, or Max for that matter, especially at each other. Todd looked up to Max like we all kind of did. Only three days ago, the two of them went golfing while I had a photo shoot. Todd came back singing Max’s praises.

  What could have changed since then? What could have changed since Todd left to ride down the elevator with Nate twenty minutes ago?

  “That’s not your concern.” Max’s growl made me jump.

  I pressed my back against the wall by the door, afraid to even breathe.

  “I promised Abby I would do anything to make her happy, but this is intolerable. After this, I will not look the other way.”

  “Don’t tell me how to run my business, kid.”

  “Deceit comes second nature to you, Salinger—”

  “This has nothing to do with you.”

  “She’s the best thing that ever happened to your career.”

  “Every inch the means to an end.”

  All I could hear after that was a bunch of mumbling. I edged myself closer, straining to hear.

  Max let out a sarcastic chuckle at whatever Todd had just said. “It actually worked out perfectly,” Max continued. “Now if I can just find a way to make her less of a pain in the—”

  “Shut your damn mouth,” Todd snarled.

  More mumbling.

  I moved closer, but blood whooshed behind my ears, distorting every sound.

  “It’s because she trusts you,” I heard Todd say, slightly calmer. “Completely. Even though you know she has no reason to trust you now. She nee
ds guidance from you, not criticism.”

  “That’s not my job, sport.”

  “She was getting stronger over the summer, and healthy. Now she’s sick and stressed out again, and exhausted. She starves herself. I’m sure you’ve noticed that.”

  No reply.

  “Do you even care?”

  No reply.

  “She deserves to know about this, about what really happened back then, so she can make her own decision. Are you going to tell her?”

  Silence.

  “Then I will.”

  “Go ahead.” Max chuckled, sarcastically, dismissively. I knew the tone. “You’re too late, but go ahead.”

  As I turned toward the door, I saw two shadows moving under the florescent lights. The larger was motionless, probably leaning against the wall. The other was pacing.

  “I don’t know what you think will happen,” Max’s voice said, more curbed this time, “but there’s nothing you can do. Don’t think I haven’t planned for this; it’s been years. You’re not the first, you know. She’ll never choose you over—”

  “Stronzo!” Todd growled the Italian curse word and then continued swearing as he moved away. By his breathing, I knew he was struggling to get a grip before whatever he had to say next.

  “Look, Max.” In Todd’s voice there was a pleading tone behind the calm. “I’m in love with this girl. Don’t do this to her.”

  I gasped softly and stared at the shadow on the white wall across from me.

  Todd had finally said it. I knew I should have felt something at the announcement, something wonderful and glorious and glowing. I should have burst through the door, pounced on him and declared, “I love you, too,” but I stared at his shadow and felt only dread. I wondered why.

  “Forget it, kid,” Max snapped.

  Ahh, yes. That’s why.

  “I’m going to marry her,” Todd snapped back. It almost sounded like a threat.

  All was quiet again. Too quiet. The taller shadow came off the wall, bending in the light, moving toward the other shadow.

  “That will never, ever happen. I will not allow it. Do you understand?”

  Todd’s angry, measured voice growled back. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

  The other shadow moved forward now—there was about to be a head-on collision.

  A sickening thought crossed my mind. I had witnessed Todd physically lose his temper before, nearly pulverizing an innocent punching bag. Despite the sheer material size of my manager, I was fairly sure Todd could have dismembered Max in a matter of minutes with nothing more than his military-trained bare hands.

  Without another thought, I flung myself around the corner.

  The two men were practically nose to nose. It was Tombstone, an old-fashioned showdown between the white hat and the black hat. But which was which?

  “What’s going on?” My voice shook as I stood in the doorway. Upon seeing me, both men stepped away from each other. “Hey,” I looked at Todd. “What’s wrong?”

  He said nothing. His face was a mask of fury. I barely recognized him.

  Max moved to the far side of the room, his head bent over the keyboard. He looked annoyed, but otherwise composed.

  I folded my arms. “Will somebody say something?”

  Max didn’t so much as acknowledge my presence.

  Todd’s eyes flickered to me. In them was a mixture of weary and absolutely livid.

  I took a step toward him. “Tell me, please,” I whispered. “Why are you so . . .”

  He shut his eyes, jaw clenching.

  I was starting to feel genuinely panicked from the tense silence.

  Finally Todd let out a sigh. “I need to leave here,” he said tightly. “Now—” He broke off, his jaw still set. “I’ll see you at home.” He gave me one quick, narrow glance as he breezed by, leaving the studio.

  I stood, baffled.

  “Did you hear me? Come on, babe.” The voice came from behind, though it seemed far away. It startled me, and I jumped. “I said, let’s get back to work.”

  “What just happened?” My eyes stared into the empty space where Todd had disappeared behind the elevator doors. How long ago was that? It felt like hours. “What were you arguing about?”

  “Hey!” Max barked.

  I jumped again and whirled around.

  His face was grave, a little frightening, and beads of perspiration dotted his hairline. “We’ve still got work to do tonight, babe. Stop wasting time.”

  My scrutiny slid off Max’s face and down to the floor. I was replaying what he’d just said. Yes, I heard his words, but I couldn’t comprehend their meanings.

  “Are you just gonna stand there like an idiot?” he said.

  I felt myself nodding faintly, confused.

  Max’s face slowly became less taut. He sighed, looking exasperated now. “You’re not gonna be any good to me tonight, are you?”

  I shook my head, understanding his words that time.

  “Okay. Go, but I want you back here first thing—”

  I didn’t wait to hear any more.

  “First thing!” He called after me when I grabbed my purse and dashed out the door.

  {chapter 24}

  “TICKET TO RIDE”

  The stupid elevator was taking too long. I pressed and pressed the down button until the tip of my finger turned red.

  “Come on,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Come on.”

  Finally a ding announced the elevator arrival. The doors opened. Todd wasn’t inside, but I didn’t really expect him to be. I couldn’t push the lobby button fast enough. The mirrored doors closed and the car silently dropped without stopping until it hit the ground level.

  The lobby was empty and dim except for the emergency track lights running along the walls. I flew to the main entrance, pushing open the two sets of heavy glass doors.

  The hot night air hit me like a slap; the Santa Ana winds whisked through the palm trees, rustling the dark blue awning that tented the entrance. Even for a Sunday night, the sidewalks were packed. The night clubs were just closing up, kicking their patrons out after last call. Music from the bar next door bounced and echoed down the street, the ground pulsating under my feet.

  I yelled for Todd, but even if he were still there, there was no way he could hear me. The line at the curb to catch a taxi was short. I’d probably just missed him. I pulled my cell from my bag, jabbing at speed dial number one. It rang once, straight to voice mail. I ended the call and then spun in a circle, not sure what to do next.

  “You lost, sunshine?” A woman in a short black dress was leaning against the side of the building behind me, her fingers flicking ashes off the end of a long cigarette. “Are you alone?” she asked, fluffing the back of her curly red hair and then taking a long drag.

  “No!” I gasped over the noise of the crowd. “I’m just looking for—”

  “He went that a-way.” Her red-tipped finger pointed up the street. She lifted her shoulders, smiled, and then pulled another drag. “Looked like he was in a hurry.”

  “Why did he . . .” I asked aloud, ignoring her. Then it occurred to me. “I need a car.”

  Without another thought, I swam my way through the bodies on the street, attempting to get to the parking lot behind the building. I heard a few people calling my name, fans recognizing me, but I kept stroking forward.

  “Hey!” the woman in the black dress called out to me. I peered back while still moving ahead. “Maybe you should just let him go.”

  This comment made me hesitate for a second, half of my brain wanting to tell her that she had no idea what she was talking about, while the other half wondered if she was right.

  When I was ten minutes from Malibu, he finally answered his cell.

  “Hello, Abby.” His voice sounded calm, which surprised me.

  “Todd!” I gasped, insanely frantic. “Where are you?”

  The line was silent, and then I heard him exhale. “I’m at my house. Would you please
come here before you go home?”

  “Of course. Are you okay?”

  Again, he didn’t answer right away. “I’ll see you soon.”

  After crashing through the front door, I saw the top of his head. He was sitting in the middle of the couch, bent forward, elbows on his knees. Relieved at the serene picture, I blew an exhale out of my rounded lips and stepped into the living room.

  As I passed the kitchen, the aroma of turkey bacon from the breakfast he had fried while I was on the phone with Dallas early that morning still lingered in the air. I approached him from behind and touched his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry I lost my cool back there,” he said. “Inexcusable. Again.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  “Did he tell you why?” Todd’s green eyes were unreadable as he watched me walk around to the front of the couch.

  “He didn’t tell me anything. I left right after you.”

  Todd looked away and sighed, running his thumb and fingers over his eyebrows. When I sat down beside him, he immediately stood and walked to the French doors. He unlatched the lock and opened both doors wide. The sky and ocean were black; the wind howled ominously in the darkness. He was standing with his back to me, raking his fingers through his hair and then rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Do you have a headache?” I asked. “Can I get you something?”

  He dropped his hand. “It’ll pass.”

  The instant he turned around to me, I realized the calmness I thought I’d seen upon entering the room had actually been a façade. His arms were hanging at his sides, his hands curled into fists, his muscles pulled tight. Extreme stress covered every inch of his frame. I hated seeing him like that.

  “What . . . ?” I began gingerly as I stood up from the couch, taking small, careful steps toward him. “What were you arguing about?”

  His eyes narrowed, as if he were searching for some kind of answer on my face. “Different things,” he replied vaguely.

  “Like what?”

  “I’ve been trying to decide how or what—” He stopped there. His eyes drifted from my face to the empty space beside me. Then his lips sealed together.