by Jamie Howard
“Sales are up,” Ben said. “Albums, merchandise, everything. There’s already rumblings about our plans for another tour, questions about a third album. It’s good news. Great news really.” He glanced up with an expectant grin, but apparently wasn’t getting the reaction he hoped for. “What is the matter with you guys?”
Ian picked at the label on his beer bottle, scowling at it. Gavin didn’t even look like he’d heard a word Ben said, his gaze was practically glued to his phone. As for me, the combination of hope and anxiety that was churning in my gut about seeing Juliet next week was close to making me physically ill.
“Hello?” The pen tapped more demandingly. “Anyone?”
I dropped my head against the back of the high booth. “The fundraiser’s next week.”
“Bianca’s parents called, they’d like to schedule a ‘meeting.’” Ian threw in some sarcastic air quotes for good measure.
We all turned expectantly to Gavin. His eyes bounced up from his phone, doing the quick scan around us. “No problem here.” He quickly flipped his phone over, laying it down on the table. “Everything’s fine.”
“If everything’s fine, why do you sound like a chipmunk who’s been sucking on some helium?” Ian tilted his head to the side.
“What?” Gavin’s voice tripped up at the end, obnoxiously high just like Ian had said. He cleared his throat, his voice dropping into what I could only describe as his gravelly Batman impression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh really? Then you wouldn’t mind if I take a look at your phone?” Lightning fast, Ian’s hand darted across the table and snatched Gavin’s cell.
“Don’t,” Gavin shouted, making a quick grab for the device but only managing to get a handful of empty air.
Ian’s face went from amused to the complete opposite in three seconds flat. At that, Ben stole the phone from Ian. His gaze bounced from the phone to me, his lips thinning into an impossibly thin line.
My stomach dropped like the floor had just disappeared. “What is it?”
“Nothing that needs to be discussed right now,” Ben answered.
“Couldn’t just leave well enough alone,” Gavin muttered under his breath.
I held my hand out. “Give it to me.”
Ian shook his head. “Trust me, man, now is not the time.”
I flexed my hand under the table, fisting it against my thigh. “Give me the damn phone.”
Ben hesitated, a frustrated sigh crawling up his throat. “Just remember this stuff is all bullshit.”
I knew whatever it was that all had their panties in a twist had to be about Juliet, but how bad could it really be? I mean, if nothing else, my recent experience with the media had taught me how well they could tailor even a perfectly crafted response to suit their own needs. Despite the fact that I’d given almost identical answers about my accident and recovery to every single reporter I’d talked to, somehow every single one of them had managed to put their own unique spin on it. So, depending on what magazine you picked up, I was either a drunk, in need of anger management classes, a stand-up guy for defending my friend’s honor, a fake who was completely feigning my ability to still play the drums, or a hero.
Even knowing all that, the pictures that greeted me from Gavin’s phone were still a punch to the gut—hard, fast, brutal. Staring back at me from underneath a headline that read “A Love Rekindled” was a picture of some burly dude with his lips on Juliet’s. I frowned at it. Maybe it was just a bad angle, he could be going for her cheek. I scrolled down , each new picture grinding my heart to dust—the two of them holding hands, heads bent together sharing whispers, a tight hug.
Was this what she meant by space?
I had to try twice to get the words out of my mouth. “Who is this guy?”
“Her ex.” Gavin ran a hand through his already rumpled hair. “Erik Hellstrom.”
“I guess she’s really got a thing for blondes,” I deadpanned.
“You know”—Ian scratched hand over the side of his neck—“it may not be what it looks like. You remember the publicity stunt I pulled with Brie. Pictures don’t tell the whole story.”
Not what it looks like. The words resonated inside my head, ringing and ringing until I finally realized what memory was trying to surface. I snapped my fingers. “This may not even be her.”
“Umm . . . you are looking at the same pictures I did, right?” Gavin widened his eyes.
“Yes, dickhead, I am.” I zoomed in on the first image. “But sometimes Juliet uses her assistant Ally as her body double when she’s trying to lay low. Ally’ll go out, the paparazzi will photograph her, Juliet gets some peace and quiet, and no one’s the wiser.”
“That’s pretty brilliant.” Gavin nudged Ben. “Do you think we have it in the budget to find some publicity twins for us?”
I caught Ben rolling his eyes out of the periphery of my vision, but I was too busy trying to get a better look at this damn picture. Too bad lover boy’s face was right where I needed to see. My heart was running a marathon in my chest by the time I got to the second photo, and it flat out fell on its face when I zoomed in and found . . . nothing. No birthmark.
I tossed the phone back on the table. “It’s definitely her.”
“You’re sure?” Ben asked.
“Trust me, I’m sure.”
“Still doesn’t mean it’s what it looks like.” Ian scrolled through the images again. “This could just be two friends catching up over lunch.”
I glared at him. “Does Bianca let you kiss your friends like that?”
He held up his hands. “I’m just trying to give you another perspective here.”
Ben folded his hands on the tabletop. “There’s still time to pull out of the fundraiser.”
Gavin opened his mouth and then snapped it back shut.
I took a swig of my beer. “We’re not backing out.”
Ian swept his gaze around the table. “The three of us could go. You don’t have to, you know.”
“I’m going. I appreciate the concern, but I fully intend to get some answers from her. Some stupid pictures aren’t going to change that.” I took a deep breath. “I love her; I’m not giving up that easily.” I tapped a fingernail on Gavin’s phone. “But for fuck’s sake, no more pictures. No articles, no nothing. Just don’t look, or don’t tell me.”
Three solemn nods agreed in unison around the table. I downed the rest of my beer in one quick swallow and set the empty bottle back on the table. Then with an enthusiasm I definitely wasn’t feeling, I said, “Chins up boys, we’ve got a show to kill tonight.”
Chapter 32: Juliet
I slipped through the crowd, dropping off a few It’s so good to see yous along the way. The fundraiser was in full swing—music trickling through the air, every table filled to capacity, the decorations more perfect than I ever could have imagined. Between the towering flower centerpieces, the net lights strung across the ceiling, and the floor-length fabric hung on the wall and backlit by turquoise lights, it looked like a fairytale in here.
There were only two things missing—Elle and Felix.
Tucking myself into the shadows along the wall, I snuck my phone up to my ear and waited patiently for my mom to pick up on the other end.
“Sweetheart, is everything okay? Shouldn’t you be at the fundraiser by now?”
“Everything’s fine, and I’m here. I just wanted to call real quick and check on Elle.”
Mom sighed. “She’s resting. It’s just a bad day. I’m so sorry we couldn’t make it.”
“Please don’t be sorry. All that matters is that she’s okay.”
“I’m sure by tomorrow she’ll be feeling much better.”
I bit my lip at the forced cheeriness in her voice. Mom clung to her eternal optimism like a security blanket, but Dad had let little things slip when we talked. We all knew Elle wasn’t getting any better, but it shredded me to pieces to hear the ways her condition was declining.
&nb
sp; I tried to match Mom’s sunshine-y voice. “I was thinking of coming to visit real soon.”
“That would be lovely. But we can talk about that tomorrow. Go enjoy your event.”
“Tell Elle I love her.”
“Of course. We love you, darling.”
“Love you too.”
I’d no sooner hung up the phone that Ally materialized at my side, iPad in hand. She waved at someone across the room, but her words were for me. “It’s hard to host a party from the sidelines.”
“I’m headed right back out into the fray, I was just checking on Elle.”
Ally turned toward me. “Everything okay?”
“As good as can be expected.” I stowed all the paralyzing worries about Elle’s future in a deep, dark corner of my brain. “How are things going?”
“Everything’s running smoothly, the donations are pouring in. We’ve hit a few snags, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Great.” I scanned the ever-growing crowd, sifting through everyone’s faces, still hoping I’d find the one I was desperately looking for. Ever since I’d spoken with Detective Brackett and had his assurances that my stalker was indeed behind bars and would be for the foreseeable future, I’d been biding my time to talk to Felix. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have over the phone, and I’d thought tonight would be the perfect time. I rocked up onto my toes. “Have you seen Felix?”
“Hmmm, let me check.” Tapping away at her iPad, an enormous list of names popped up. “Okay, so Ben and Ian are here somewhere. But so far Gavin and Felix haven’t checked in.” She held up a finger. “Erik is here though.”
“Erik is . . . here?” I frowned.
“Well, you know, after what happened in LA I thought you’d be happy about it.” She nudged me in the ribs.
“Al, nothing happened in LA. We just had lunch together. We’re friends, that’s it.”
“It didn’t look like just friends.”
Shit. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Had Felix seen the pictures of Erik and me together? Was that why he’d bailed on tonight? I knew the photographs were floating around the interwebs, but it hadn’t even crossed my mind that he might have seen them and assumed the worst.
I ran my hands down my skirt, my burgundy-colored nails a bright splash of color against the white fabric. “I should go thank Erik for making the trip; do you know what table he’s at?”
Another few flicks on the screen. “Table seven.”
“Okay.” I took a few steps away, turning back around to add, “If you see Felix, tell him I’m looking for him. Better yet, come find me.”
“You got it.” Her fingers drifted up to the nearly invisible earpiece snuggled inside her ear. She rolled her eyes. “This caterer, I swear to god.”
While Ally took off in one direction, I headed in the other. Three hugs, two handshakes, and one kiss on the cheek later, I finally tracked down Erik. A glass of scotch in one hand, an impeccable navy suit and bow tie on his muscled frame, he looked every bit the polished athlete.
I bumped him with my hip. “Fancy meeting you here.”
The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Well, after Ally practically begged me to come, how could I resist?”
“She begged you to come?”
He threw his arm around my shoulders. “Don’t be too mad, Jules. I think she was just trying to support our ‘rekindled love.’”
A photographer swooped in front of us like a rabid vulture, camera already poised in front of him. We dutifully smiled—the photographer was hired by the foundation after all—before being able to get back to our conversation.
Erik surveyed the room. “This is quite the shindig you put together here. It’s brave of you, opening up like this about your sister. Is she here?”
“She was supposed to be, but”—I shook my head—“it wasn’t a good day.”
“Well, next time you talk to her, give her my love.”
“I will, but she’d probably be more excited about that if you played for the Bruins.”
“Trade in my palm trees for snow? Never gonna happen.” He chuckled and set his glass down on the linen tablecloth. “I’d love to stay and take better advantage of your impressively stocked bar, but I’ve got a game tomorrow so I need to call it an early night.”
“Rangers or Islanders?”
“Rangers.”
“Well then, kick some Ranger butt tomorrow.” I offered him my knuckles and he playfully nudged them with his.
“Will do.” He scooted a little closer to whisper, “Is there, uh, an easy way to sneak out of this place?”
“Of course there is.” I gestured with my head to a side door. “Let me show you.”
With a few minor delays, we managed to sneak through the side door and down the narrow hallway behind it. I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “Follow this down and make a right at the end. It’ll lead you right out.”
“You’re the best.” His lips grazed my cheek. “Let me know when you’re in LA again. We can spark up another affair.”
I shoved him in the chest. “Get out of here, you goof.”
His laughter followed me back down the hall. I rounded the corner at top speed and slammed right into someone. She let out a yelp, landing hard on the ground. I somehow managed to stay on my feet, hitting the wall palms-first.
I recovered first. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
She grimaced but nodded.
I offered her a hand and pulled her back to her feet. A few strands of her dark red hair had escaped her ponytail from our collision, and her black caterer’s tie was flung backward over her shoulder. I straightened it for her with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that, I was in a hurry.”
“It’s all right, I was actually looking for you.” Her hand rubbed her hip. “Ally asked me to come find you. Something about burnt salmon?”
I groaned. “Dammit.” I tipped my head back and blew out a breath. “Okay, this is fixable. Do you know where I can find her?”
“The kitchen. She said she’d be in the kitchen. It’s just down this way, second door on your right.”
“Thank you . . .” I held out my hand.
“Dani.” She smiled at me and shook my hand. “And don’t worry about it. I’m tougher than I look.”
With a shared smile, I hustled off to the kitchen, the click-clack of my heels a sharp echo in the empty hallway. The door swung open silently on its hinges, giving me my first glimpse into the eerily silent kitchen. The only thing lingering in here was the strong scents of a finely prepared meal.
“Hello?” I took a few steps forward, ears straining for any sound from Ally. “Ally?”
A small rectangle of light peeked through a not-quite-closed door in front of me. “Ally, are you in here?” The door squealed as I pushed it open. I dropped my hands to my hips, frowning at the overflowing pantry in front of me. Maybe this place had two kitchens?
The back of my neck started to prickle, goosebumps skating up my arms. You’re being ridiculous, no one’s standing behind you. I tried to laugh it off, but before I could even turn around and confront my fear, an arm wrapped around my middle, a hand pinning a cloth over my nose and mouth.
I dug my heels in, driving backward until both of us were moving. We crashed into the shelves, boxes and cans raining down around us. My assailant grunted, but their hold didn’t slip. I fought against breathing, but it was a useless struggle. Every breath made my head swim, the scene in front of me winking in and out.
Right before the lights went out entirely, a familiar voice whispered in my ear, “It’s not over until I say it is.”
Chapter 33: Felix
Late. We were so fucking late. It was like the universe was conspiring against me to make sure I didn’t make it to the fundraiser. I was trying really hard not to take it personally. To not see it as some sort of sign that I wasn’t meant to be there.
And if I could just get these damn pants over these annoying-as-hell leg braces then
we could go. I spit out a litany of curses as I worked my dress pants up over my thighs, throwing myself back on the bed when I finally got them buttoned. Except by doing it, I’d just made a mess of my hair. I briefly considered shaving it off before shoving myself up and tying it back again.
Shrugging on my tux jacket, I straightened my bowtie and carefully used my arm crutches to lever myself up to standing. Now I just needed to grab Gavin and . . .
“No, no, I’ll pass on the message to him.” Gavin paced through the living room, my phone pressed to his ear, his phone in his other hand. “Great, thank you.”
“What the hell are you doing on my phone?”
“That was your P.I. They caught him.” Gavin’s attention slipped to his phone. “It’s all over the news, but since someone told me to avoid looking for all things Juliet-related, I missed it.”
I crutched forward. “They got her stalker?”
“He slipped up. Got recognized in some fancy restaurant.” He wiggled my phone at me. “Apparently you’ve got some sort of wrap-up in your e-mail from your P.I.?”
I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. They finally caught the fucker. The burst of relief that rushed through me nearly knocked me off my feet. She was safe. Thank God.
“I can check it later.” I hurried—and by hurried I mean I barely moved faster than a hundred-year-old tortoise—to the door. “Just as soon as I find Jules and convince her this whole ‘space’ idea is a terrible one and that we’re meant to be together.”
Gavin looked me up and down. “You’re not planning on proposing, are you?”
I snorted. “Give me a little credit here.” I glanced at him over my shoulder. “I wouldn’t do something like that at a fundraiser.”
He gaped at me, his mouth opening and closing guppy style. “But you would . . . do something like that?”
“When you know, you know.”
His expression darkened, his mouth slumping into a severe frown. It cleared in a blink, disappearing like it was never there to begin with. In one smooth move, he swung his jacket around and slipped it on, covering up the pair of suspenders he was rocking underneath it.