by Mandy Baggot
“I think I’d really like that,” Autumn replied, taking a drink of her coffee.
She put her cup down and beckoned Lydia over. “Lydia, there’s a cerise pink dress over there that would look fantastic on you. I want you to try it on, and if you like it, I want you to buy it…put it on my account.”
“Oh, but I couldn’t possibly…” Lydia started, her cheeks brightening with embarrassment.
“I insist, and the customer is always right. Please don’t make me go to the manager.”
“I…”
Autumn picked up her purse and got to her feet. “Get the dress, Lydia. Go out tonight and enjoy it,” she said.
The joy written all over the sales assistant’s face made Autumn’s insides warm. That expensive dress she could buy ten of and not even think about the cost was going to make that young girl’s year. She couldn’t feel happiness right now, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t spread a little.
“Come on, child, let’s give these photographers the slip, and I’ll introduce you to an indoor market,” Tawanda said, heading for the door.
“A what?” Autumn asked.
Chapter Forty-Four
She held up the very understated ivory-colored dress and positioned it over her, holding the hanger out of the way. It had cost her less than thirty pounds that day in the indoor market, and Tawanda had had to pay. She never carried cash, and this particular market stall wouldn’t take credit cards, even from the country’s most well-known singer.
The fabric was cheap in comparison to what she usually wore, but the cut gave her body curves, and when she had tried it on behind a make-shift dressing room of tent poles and a shower curtain, Tawanda had let out an excited yelp. Hearing that reassurance, she knew her eyes hadn’t deceived her when she’d seen herself in the stall holder’s cracked full-length mirror.
She had hundreds of dresses in her apartment, but she still couldn’t bear to go there. Memories of Juan and Janey, those people she had relied on for so long, in her room, having been in her bed—it made her feel sick. But, it wasn’t just that. It was the whole place, the luxury, the over embellishment of everything, the money she had spent, or rather wasted, turning it into some high-tech den she hardly spent any time in.
She had everything that was important to her right with her. Tawanda, her keyboard, the photo of Nathan, and her memories. Then there was her mother. Things had been tough for Alison at work, although she would never admit to it. Every night since the kidnapping, she had come home exhausted. At first, Autumn had been too wrapped up in her grief to notice, but there were definite worry lines appearing on her mother’s forehead that Botox wasn’t shifting, and she never seemed to be able to really relax.
But Autumn couldn’t help her. She just didn’t know how to yet. The best thing she could do, the only thing she could do, was get on stage tonight and do what she did best. Sing, play the piano, honor her father, honor Blu-Daddy. Honor Nathan. Those people had given her everything. It was time she gave something back.
There was a knock on her dressing room door. She was expecting Tawanda. It was barely thirty minutes before the awards were to start, and they really should have been on their way to their places by now.
“Come in,” Autumn called.
The door opened, and in stepped a tall man with sandy-colored hair, dressed in a tuxedo.
“Who are you?” Autumn asked, holding the dress over her body and looking for something more substantial to cover up her underwear.
“My name is Tyler James, Miss Raine. I’m your new security coordinator,” he stated and closed the door behind him.
“My what?”
“Security coordinator, Ma’am. Bodyguard, if you like.”
He picked up a robe from the back of the door and hung it around her shoulders in one quick movement, leaving Autumn to fasten the tie.
“I didn’t hire a bodyguard.” The word almost caught on her tongue.
This was the work of her mother. Despite knowing most things there were to know about Tawanda and her assassination capabilities, Alison still felt the need to bring in outside help. Autumn gritted her teeth. She tried to remind herself that this was not the fault of the blond-haired, blue-eyed individual in front of her.
“We should take our seats, Ma’am, but perhaps it might be a good idea to put some clothes on first,” he remarked with a hint of a smile playing on his lips and his blue eyes sparkling.
“Was that supposed to be a joke? Because I don’t do jokes at the moment, Mr. James, and I’m not sure when joking will be resumed. Is that clear?” Autumn asked.
“Absolutely, Ma’am. I apologize.”
“I will be ready in ten minutes. Please wait outside.”
“No problem, Ma’am,” He opened the dressing room door and retreated.
Once he had closed the door, she took a deep breath. She didn’t want a new security advisor or whatever he’d called himself. The awards event planners were providing all the security in the arena. She didn’t want anyone else. She especially didn’t want anyone else calling himself her bodyguard. She’d only had one of those, and she wasn’t ready for someone else to take up the vacant position just yet.
She took off the gown he had wrapped around her and threw it over the chair by the dressing table. She’d been made up an hour ago, and if she didn’t move soon, the whole lot would start to melt. She slipped the dress over her head and stuffed her feet into sandals. They had a small heel, but if she had to, she could run in them. She knew that she had no reason to run any more, but what Nathan had said stuck.
There was another knock on the door, and this time, ready to be furious at Tyler James, Autumn threw the door open, a glare on her face.
“Goodness, child,” Tawanda greeted, “if you win those awards tonight, I think the cameras will be hoping for a better expression than that.”
“I thought it was him.” Autumn poked her head out the door and looked around for the security man. “Where is he?”
“Who?”
“My new security coordinator, Tyler. He said he would be outside.” She scanned the faces of the other people lining the hall.
“You have new bodyguard?” Tawanda questioned.
“No! That’s the whole point. I don’t want a new bodyguard. This is because of my mother. I should call her. I should call her and tell her to stop interfering. I didn’t want her to come with me, and this is what she does. She hires someone to watch me.”
“I speak with her, a few minutes ago, she ask how you are. She did not say about any security guy.”
“Then who hired him?” Autumn asked. “Oh, Tawanda, you don’t think this is As-Wana, do you? I thought it was over. The government captured the members of the group who weren’t killed, and they were going to question them. They were going to find out their plans and put a stop to them, for good.”
“Calm down.”
“I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t go out there. Not now,” Autumn stated.
She counted up her fingers and moved from one foot to the other. All the bravado of earlier had been picked apart by the appearance of a replacement for Nathan. She didn’t want him replaced. He couldn’t be replaced. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the numbers.
“Miss Raine.” Tyler James’ voice broke her concentration.
“Who are you?” Tawanda asked him.
“Hi there. You must be Tawanda. Hi, Tyler James.” He held his hand out to her.
“You don’t charm me with your spiky little hair and the dimples. Who sent you?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, Ma’am.”
“Speak English, will you! What does that mean?” Autumn shrieked.
“I can’t tell you,” Tyler answered.
“Then you come nowhere with us,” Tawanda said, stepping in front of Autumn and shielding her.
Tyler leaned forward and whispered something in Tawanda’s ear.
“What did you say to her? Tawanda? Don’t let him be my security. Please
. I don’t like him,” Autumn exclaimed.
Tawanda’s facial expression was incomprehensible. Her dark skin had lightened a few shades and her eyes were popping out of her head as she stared at Tyler, her mouth open.
“We should really go now,” Tyler said as he offered Autumn his arm. “We don’t want to keep all those millions of television viewers waiting do we?”
“Tawanda, what’s happened? What did he say to you? What’s going on?” Autumn looked at her friend and the bewilderment written on her face.
“Nothing…I…we…we can trust this man,” Tawanda stated.
Autumn could tell she was trying very hard to recompose herself, but it wasn’t really working. Tawanda’s whole body quaked.
“Well, how do you know? I want to know how you know. What did you say to her?” Autumn demanded from Tyler.
“Autumn, please, you must trust me on this.” She took hold of Autumns hands. “You trust me, yes?”
“You know I do.”
“Then believe me when I say we can trust this man. It will be good to have someone else with us. If nothing else, he can make sure our champagne glasses are topped up when you win the awards.”
Autumn looked at Tyler, trying to seek out any information she could from just looking at his face. His expression was not committing anything. He looked straight ahead, his eyes not meeting hers or Tawanda’s.
“Miss Raine, Miss Raine, we need you backstage right away to open the show. Maroon 5 is caught up in a bad accident a couple hours north of here. They’re fine, by the way, just delayed,” said a woman dressed all in black, wearing a headset on her head and carrying a clipboard.
“Opening the show,” Autumn said, the enormity of that task hitting her like a train.
“The piano is all ready,” the woman stated.
Tyler offered his arm again. “We should go.”
When the lights went up and she heard the roar of the audience, she wanted to run. It had only been a few weeks since her last public performance, but she had completely forgotten how it felt. The lights were so bright, she couldn’t see anything, and the heat from the stage equipment was already making her perspire. She could see no one, just shadows and darkness, but she knew there were thousands of eyes trained on her in the hall, and millions more behind television sets all over the world. Now was not the time for a meltdown. Now was the time for honoring the memory of her fallen friends. She was here. They weren’t. It was her duty to sing and play her heart out, because, between them, they had made sure she’d stayed alive to do just that.
“Good evening everyone. This is “Broken Pieces.” This one’s for you Blu,” she stated.
The music started, and a shiver ran over her, but she counted herself in, then she let rip with the vocals like never before.
“The winner of the IMA award for Best International Female Artist goes to…”
Autumn was holding her breath again. She had held her breath for the announcement of Best Album, and had quickly put a smile on her face when Lady Gaga’s name was announced instead of hers. One chance gone, one left. If she was honest, she didn’t mind if she won the award or not. Just being here, having the strength to get back up on stage after all she had been through, was enough of a win for her. At the moment, her thoughts were about Tyler James and what he was doing here. When he had whispered in Tawanda’s ear, the woman had looked shell-shocked. It was something bad, and the reason she hadn’t told Autumn what it was, was because she wanted her to concentrate on the show. Well, the show was almost over, and she would make her tell her then.
“Autumn Raine!”
The volume of the announcer’s voice shouting her name out almost took her from her seat. Had that been her name? She couldn’t have heard right. It must be a mistake. People all around were looking at her, clapping their hands and raising their glasses. She didn’t know what to do.
“Autumn, come on! You won! Best International Female, child! You need to get on that stage and get the trophy!” Tawanda shouted across the table.
She felt lost. What a few months ago had felt close to being assured had felt out of reach after recent events. Now, the audience was cheering and applauding, and some of them had risen to their feet in admiration.
“Go on, child,” Tawanda urged.
Autumn stood up and tentatively walked toward two men in tuxedoes who had been guiding winners to the stage all evening. Her feet moved on auto-pilot. She couldn’t hear, her eyes were blurred against the lights, but somehow, she mounted the steps and received her crystal IMA logo-shaped award from someone who’d once been in The Bold and the Beautiful.
The crowd continued to clap as Autumn looked at the award in her hands, dumbstruck.
Finally, they quieted, and she moved a little closer to the microphone.
“Well…I don’t really know what to say…um, thank you. It’s been a horrible couple of weeks for me, I…”
She didn’t know if she could do this. The spotlight blazed down on her, made her skin heat up and her head ache. She swallowed and tried to focus.
“I lost a dear, dear friend. Albert Arthur, better known as Blu-Daddy,” she said.
There was more applause and whooping, and a photo of Blu-Daddy was displayed on the big screens.
“But I also lost someone else, someone who meant…so much,” Autumn continued.
Just thinking about Nathan made her chest swell with pain. She had known real love for such a short time, in such extreme circumstances. The idea of never having that again, never being able to revel in that feeling with regularity like most couples, tore her apart.
“I lost Nathan Regan. Nathan Regan was the man I loved and…he died trying to protect me. Nathan wasn’t the head of an international software company. He was my bodyguard, and we fell in love.”
On the big screen came a crowd shot, and Autumn could see the people looking up at her, their eyes wide, captive, waiting for whatever she was going to say next.
“Nathan didn’t write songs like Blu. He didn’t appear on American Idol or Ellen, and as far as I know, he never appeared on the front cover of Hello! magazine. That’s the UK equivalent to The National Enquirer—kind of.”
She stopped to take in air and regroup.
“What I’m trying to say is that everybody counts, and just because Nathan didn’t get column inches, it doesn’t mean that his death wasn’t important. It was important. It was very important to me because I loved him, and I miss him.”
She broke down. She couldn’t hold it in any more, and the award presenter put an arm around her, attempting to lead her away from the limelight and off the stage.
“No, wait…wait a second. I just want to say thank you so much for this award, from the bottom of my heart, I thank everyone who supports me, who downloads my music, who goes to my concerts. You’re all so special.”
Another round of applause and cheers rang out, and Autumn tried with all her might to stop the tears from tracking through her make-up.
“And finally, I just wanted to say that all the royalties from my latest album will be donated to charity. Fifty percent will go to the Blu-Daddy Music Foundation that Blu’s wife has set up in his honor, and fifty percent will go to Help For Heroes. That’s a British charity to help injured servicemen and women. Thank you,” Autumn finished.
At that announcement, the entire audience was up on their feet cheering the singer as she made her way down from the stage in haste. She hadn’t decided to give her money away for a publicity stunt. She had done it because it was right. Blu had always wanted to create something where under-privileged children had the chance to learn an instrument or get behind a mixing desk. She’d been told he had life insurance that was going to set his wife and children up for life, and it was also enough to start up his foundation. If he was looking down, he’d be smiling that gold-toothed grin.
She didn’t go back to the table. She ran for the outside. She needed that air to hit her, to feel it run over her skin. Once out of the au
ditorium, she made for the back of the arena, and, before two security men with bulging biceps could stop her, she burst through the set of double doors they were guarding and into the night.
She was out on the street, standing opposite a Taco Bell and a bar called Hank’s. It was raining, but she smiled as she lifted her arms out and embraced the wet weather. She let the rain hit her face, drench her clothes, and soak her to the skin. It felt so good. It felt like she was being baptized, starting something new.
She was the Best International Female artist, but more importantly, she felt like Claire O’Toole. And right now, Claire O’Toole was who she wanted to be.
Chapter Forty-Five
“United, next to—eight letters, ending in E-R.”
Autumn shook her head and took another sip of her fruit juice, placing it back down on the table next to her sun-bed.
“Why you shake your head, child?”
“Tawanda I don’t know why you do crosswords. You’re terrible at them,” Autumn told her.
“Eight letters is a hard answer.”
“It is not. The longer they are, the easier they are.”
“You know it?” Tawanda asked.
Autumn laughed. “Yes, I know it, and I’m not telling you.”
It was almost a month since she had won the IMA award, and despite wanting to take some time off, she had ended up on every talk and entertainment show on every network in the US, and almost as many in the UK on her return. She had sung and talked herself hoarse, and even had to take part in riding a horse on one particularly cute show. Still, the riding had been better than the one where she’d had to crochet. Tawanda hadn’t let her forget that and kept asking if she was going to make her a shawl.
But finally, she had a holiday. Along with Tawanda and Tyler, she was in the Seychelles, on Mahé, sampling all the delights the Four Seasons Hotel had to offer.
Despite heavy questioning of Tawanda, the woman still refused to tell her where Tyler had come from. However, he was excellent at what he did. He’d been with her during her television show tours, ensuring her privacy, dealing with meet and greet, and pulling out of situations when crowd control got out of hand. She trusted him, and it made her feel safe having him around.