Love Letter Duet: The Encore Edition

by Callie Anderson

  “You're cleaning the stove, which you never do unless something is bothering you, and you've been distant lately.”

  “Jeremy it's not that. It’s …” My mind began to run wild. What was I going to tell him? That my heart was thinking of an ex?

  “Is it cold feet?” he whispered into my neck.

  I turned so my lower back was resting against the stove. I draped my hands over his neck. “No, my feet are nice and warm. Actually, they’re toasty.” I grinned and kissed his soft lips. He smelled like grass. “Work takes a lot out of me. I have a lot to deal with, and sometimes I can't yell at those guys for being guys and saying dumb things or doing dumb things like posting pictures on social media. I have to keep them out of trouble and do it with a smile on my face.” It was a partial lie.

  Jeremy began to rub his long fingers over my scalp. I leaned my head on his chest as his thumbs circled around my temples. “Why don't you go give Lyra that bath and I’ll finish up here? Then I’ll meet you later in your room.” He lifted my chin and gave me a chaste kiss.

  “You’re so good to me.” I stretched up on my tippy toes and kissed him again.

  After I gave Lyra her bath and tucked her into bed, I took a quick shower and waited for Jeremy. A part of me dreaded sleeping with him. I loved him very much, and our sex life had never been a problem, but something was off. Tonight I felt as if I would be cheating on Jeremy if I slept with him. Because tonight, the second he crawled on top of my body, I would wish it was Weston.

  When Jeremy did come to bed, I had my nightstand light off, my eyes closed and my back to his side. He pulled the covers back and lay next to me. His arm pulled me close to his body as he looked for a comfortable position. As Jeremy fell asleep peacefully next to me, I cried myself to sleep, hating the person I was becoming. I needed to stop living this lie and desperately needed to stop loving Weston.

  Once and for all.

  40

  EMILIA

  Sally’s baby shower was held three weeks after I spoke to her on the phone. She and Axel had bought a house out in Corona when they found out they were expecting, and that was where the event was held. I sat in the car for several long moments, studying the four-bedroom single story home with a bright blue door.

  I spotted Sally through the chain-link fence as I walked up to the front of the house, and she waved at me from the backyard. She wore less makeup than normal, and she glowed in a white lace dress. She looked beautiful.

  As I approached the front door, I realized Sally’s mother, Suzanna, was exactly as she had described, a true southern belle with a secret love for hooch. The second I walked inside, I felt at home.

  “You must be Emilia,” she greeted me. “Sally said you had beautiful red hair.”

  I rubbed my hand down my curls and smiled. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “None of that.” She offered me a drink, but I declined. “My mother in law was ma’am. You can call me Suzy.”

  “It’s a pleasure, Suzy.”

  Suzy hugged me and patted my back. “Come on, the party is out back.”

  Tile flooring ran throughout, with newly painted interior walls. The living room opened up to a remodeled kitchen that had been taken over by caterers. But the party was outside, where a large enclosed patio held tables laden with food. The emerald grass had been freshly trimmed, and small tables with white linens and cushioned chairs had been scattered around the yard for people to sit. The back of the yard was set up with presents and a throne-like seat for our special guest.

  I dropped off the basket I’d filled with items I couldn’t have lived without during Lyra’s first year. There were a couple of familiar faces I recognized from my time working at Sparrows, but no one I knew personally, so I grabbed myself a sweet tea and situated myself at an empty table. Axel and Sally came over to say hello and introduced me to two of Sally’s lovely coworkers who sat down with me.

  The food was delicious, the conversations were delightful, and I was enjoying myself until Sally sat down to open gifts. Her mother passed around the baby bingo cards and cardboard confetti playing pieces. I was paying attention to Sally ripping at wrapping paper to see if what she was opening matched a square on my bingo card when a chair moved next to me.

  “That should be us, don’t you think?”

  His deep voice caused me to jump off my seat and spill the confetti markers from my bingo card. “What the f—” I bit my tongue and looked around. Most eyes were on me. I grinned apologetically and looked over at Weston. “What are you doing here? It’s a baby shower.”

  “So?”

  “These are for girls,” I hissed through my teeth.

  “Axel’s having a kid. We’re all here to celebrate with them.” He pointed to the guys who all stood near the food. They had not been there when I’d arrived. I rolled my eyes and faced Sally, who held up a diaper genie. I had that gift on my card somewhere, but I was so flustered by Weston’s presence that I couldn’t focus.

  “You never answered my question.”

  “What question?”

  My mind was scattered, trying to form coherent thoughts. For the past three weeks, I’d interacted directly with Paulie. Though I despised the ass, it was easier than talking to Weston. Any of his calls were forwarded to Stacy, my assistant. I had decided not to speak with anyone from Pointless Statement unless it was a life or death work related issue.

  “The question that this should be us.”

  I didn’t know whether there was something in my sweet tea or I was having a panic attack. How much longer could I live like this? You’re taking the truth about Lyra to the grave!

  A te ou inferno. All the way to hell.

  “I’m doing something right now,” I said in a shaky voice.

  “Your card is upside down.” Weston reached in front of me and turned it over. I laughed. Of course it was. Could it be any more obvious that he made me scatterbrained?

  Weston picked up a couple of confetti pieces and placed them on the presents I had missed. I lifted my hand to swat his away when I realized I only needed one more to get bingo.

  “You’re welcome,” he whispered.

  “Whatever. You disrupted me.”

  “Good to know I still have that power,” he sang so only I could hear.

  Inhaling, I bowed my head. Get a grip. I bit my lip and looked over at him. Why was everything so complicated with this man? When our eyes met, he winked at me and then laughed.

  “I hate you.”

  “Bingo!” he shouted. He reached across and placed the confetti on the stroller picture. Suzanna walked over and handed me a small gift bag. “You need to share that with me.” Weston tried to take my gift bag.

  I reached inside and took out a bottle of mango peach lotion. “Not happening. It’s my reward for dealing with you.” Squirting some on my hands, I rubbed them together and brought them to my nose. The scent was powerful and delicious. Weston grabbed my hand and inhaled the scent. He reached for the travel size lotion bottle that sat on the table.

  “This one is mine.” He shoved it in his pocket.

  “Hey!”

  “I know what you smelled like before, but now I have a new scent for you.”

  I ignored his comment and sat with my shoulders back, remembering the dent Weston said I had about slouching. A few minutes passed, but Weston still sat next to me. I noticed everything he did. From my peripheral, I watched as he picked the sticker off his now warm beer.

  “Do you think you and Jasper will have a baby after you guys are married?” Weston’s voice had a hint of hurt coiled through it. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. I couldn’t find it in me to correct him. When I didn’t answer, he continued. “I thought for sure you and I would have a little one before Ax. That little girl we spoke about so many moons ago.”

  “Weston …”

  “I know.” He shook his head and reached for his aviators that were hooked on his T-shirt. “You don’t want to talk to me unless it’s work. Bu
t fuck, Em, how the fuck did I lose you? How the fuck can you marry him and forget about what we had?”

  Tears filled my eyes, making it hard to see straight. I couldn’t take it any longer. “Excuse me.”

  Reaching for my purse, I stood and walked away from Weston. I walked through the house until I found a bathroom. I dried my tears and took a few minutes to breathe. When I walked out of the bathroom, Weston stood against the wall across the hallway waiting for me. His eyes were hooded and his head hung low.

  I tugged on the hem of my dress; my feet were glued to the tile floor. He looked so hurt. “Weston, I don’t—”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that.” He kicked off the wall and walked towards me. “I’ve never liked seeing you upset, and now it’s even worse since I know I can’t hold you and kiss your pain away.”

  He was apologizing? I was the liar—the horrible human—and he was apologizing to me.

  “Friends?” He extended his hand.

  “People who have loved like we have can’t be friends.” I spoke softly. He nodded in agreement. “But we can try. Especially since we work together.”

  “We can try,” Weston repeated.

  I should have known then that Weston and I could never be friends. Would never be friends.

  I had too many secrets.

  41

  EMILIA

  After Sally's baby shower, the tension between Weston and I mellowed out for a bit. The guys were across the country doing shows in Miami and I was busy with work and planning a wedding. I spent some time with Jeremy's parents, and even had his sister over for the weekend.

  I was making an effort to forget Weston, but he was a cloud that lingered over my head and made it impossible to see clear. When he was around, I couldn't think straight. I was torn. I wanted to spend time with him during the day, and then come home and spend the night with Jeremy. When Weston was away, my focus and love were devoted to my fiancé. It was exhausting, and I hated who I was becoming.

  One late Saturday night in October, after Jeremy and I had ordered a movie and take out, and then fallen asleep on the couch, my phone began to ring. “Mmm,” I grunted and stretched my arms over my head.

  Jeremy reached for my insistent phone that lay beside a half-empty bottle of wine on the coffee table and tossed it to me. Axel’s name appeared on the screen. I looked at the clock on the cable box and hit the ignore button. Nope, it was too late to deal with his drunkenness.

  As Jeremy and I made our way to my bedroom, my phone rang again. This time it was Weston. I hesitated for a brief second, debating whether I should answer. I looked at the phone and then I looked up at Jeremy.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, everything is fine.” I hit the little red button and ignored Weston's call. I walked into our bedroom, changed into a babydoll, and crawled into bed. As I lay my head on the pillow, my phone rang for the third time. It was close to one in the morning, but I answered immediately when I noticed Brian's name on my screen.

  I cleared my throat. “Hello?”

  “Emilia, I'm sorry to bother you so late with this urgent matter.” Brian’s voice was unsteady. “But Weston just called and they need you down at their video shoot.” The guys had come back west to shoot a music video for their single. According to their schedule, they’d been in town for a few days.

  “I'm on my way.” I said goodbye to Brian and looked over at Jeremy. “I need to go.”

  “Now?” Jeremy asked. Confusion appeared on his face.

  “I'm sorry. Something must’ve happened.” I kicked the covers off and tossed my babydoll on the ground.

  “Emilia, it's late.”

  “I know, but this is my job.” I ran into my closet and dressed in jeans and a flowy top. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and walked back to Jeremy. “Is it all right for you to stay with Lyra? I don't want to call—”

  “Of course. You don't even have to ask.” Jeremy smiled up at me. I cupped his cheek; his dark hazelnut eyes were warm and loving. Bringing my lips to his, I kissed him. “Thank you for being everything I need,” I said with my lips pressed to his.

  I finished getting dressed, slipped my feet into ballet flats, and hopped in the car. Traffic was light as I drove down to the warehouse where the video was being shot. Industrial spotlights had been scattered throughout the street to illuminate the area. I parked my car between two cargo vans and rushed inside, yanking the door with all my might. I was sleepy and cranky. My sour mood must have shown on my face because Axel’s eyebrows shot up when I approached.

  “Why the hell did I get called down here at two in the morning?” I rested my hands on my hips.

  Weston’s head turned back towards me. He was standing in the far back talking to the music director, Taylor Concept. I tried to ignore that Weston looked delicious in his black jeans and leather jacket. I was supposed to be pissed. He pointed to something Taylor showed him and strolled to where I stood.

  “Paulie’s not answering.” Axel waved his drumsticks around.

  “So?”

  “He has the permits for us to close the streets and shoot the remainder of the video outside,” Weston said.

  I inhaled and slowly exhaled my frustration. Why wasn't I surprised? “No permits means?”

  “We lose a day of shooting and we have to book Taylor all over again. It pushes back our schedule to release the video once the tour starts.”

  Fuck. The label was funding this music video. Not releasing it on time would make my job a living hell. Think, Emilia. Think. “Give me ten. I need to make a call.”

  I turned to step away from the guys when Weston's hands gripped my upper arm. “What are you going to do?” His eyebrows furrowed together.

  “I need to fix this. I really want to call your flipping manager and give him a piece of my mind. I knew he was a douche the day he hit on me.” I turned to walk away, but Weston tightened his fingers and held me in place.

  “He hit on you? When?” His voice was stern and clear.

  “Seriously? I'm trying to fix a problem here.”

  “When, Emilia?” Weston muttered through gritted teeth, his eyes like fire. He wasn’t dropping it.

  “The Summer Festival Tour.”

  There were few times in my life when I'd seen Weston pissed. He'd always been a free spirit; nothing bothered him and most of the time he brushed things off. The first time I saw him get mad was when Harry dropped his guitar on the floor. I didn't know Weston knew so many foul words. The other time was when his new soundboard for his studio was damaged during the delivery.

  Weston’s look told me everything he didn't say.

  “Not now. Let me fix this shit and then we'll talk.” Weston nodded and released my arm. I gave him one last quick glance and walked out of the warehouse.

  My mind tried to come up with a plan, but copies of the permits were at City Hall and what good would it do to call them at two in the morning? I scanned the contact list on my phone, scavenging for any favors I could cash in. I was halfway through my list when a familiar name made me pause. Cinthia Stein, my old manager. She could help.

  When I left the radio station, she’d just come back from maternity leave. My resignation was professional and we'd stay in contact. She was pregnant now with baby number three, but none of that mattered. What did matter was that her husband owned a strip mall a few blocks away. He owned the building and the franchises in the mall. It wasn't a full street closure, but it was close. I sent her a text message.

  Me: Are you up?

  As my fingers hit the send button, I began to pray. The three dots on the left hand of the screen told me she was replying.

  Cinthia: These kids refuse to sleep. What's up?

  Me: I need a favor. A big one.

  Cinthia: I can't help you move Jeremy's body ;)

  She knew about Jeremy, but she had never met him, and she didn't know about Lyra. Our friendship was solely one-sided.

  Me: I�
��m Pointless Statement’s publicist, and they’re shooting a music video. Long story short, can we shoot the video at Stein Strip Mall?

  I chewed my nails as I waited for her response. The three dots appeared and disappeared twice before her text message came in.

  Cinthia: Does Jeremy know you’re working with your ex? :)

  Me: Can we not…

  Cinthia: Eric said it’s fine as long as you guys are out of there by eight in the morning.

  Me: OMG thank you! I owe you.

  Cinthia: You owe me an explanation and a huge cocktail once this baby is out.

  Me: Deal.

  I rushed back inside and ran towards Taylor. He was surfing on his phone when I approached. I quickly explained my plan and asked if it would be doable for what he envisioned for the video.

  “It isn’t perfect, but it’ll have to work.”

  He began barking orders for his staff to load the vans and move everything to Stein Strip Mall. Some of the lights didn’t make it over so all of the cars’ lights were turned on and high beamed toward the parking lot location where the guys stood. Some of the girls had to be cut from the video, and the cameras had to be angled differently to make it work, but Taylor worked his magic and had the guys tape seven different versions so he could edit them. As the sun came up, Taylor finally shouted, “That’s a wrap!”

  Music to my ears.

  I dropped to the floor dramatically and rested my head on the side of my car door with my eyes closed. A body lowered next to me, and I knew it was Weston.

  “You did good, babe.” Exhaustion loomed through his voice.

  “Mmm,” I moaned. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “Me, too. I think it’ll all work out.” Weston shifted next to me. I peeked one eye open and noticed him taking a sip of water. Instantly, I was parched.

  “No thanks to your manager.” I reached for his bottle and took a sip.

  “About that.”

  Exhaling, I handed him back his water. “I met him before you did. He hit on me while you guys performed. I turned him down, of course, and then he made some snide remark when we went to lunch the following day. I never trusted the asshole.”