by Brenda Novak
The sudden silence led Kyle to believe she’d hung up. He also guessed she was crying. It sounded like it.
Should he knock on the door and attempt to console her? He’d always been someone who tried to fix whatever was broken, and that included the people in his life. But he couldn’t imagine something that intrusive going over very well for either one of them. They’d barely met.
Assuming she’d prefer her privacy, he put on Thursday night football. Hopefully, that would distract him and give her enough background noise to hide her sniffles.
But it was only fifteen minutes later that the door slammed against the inside wall and she charged out of the bedroom. “Kyle?”
He lowered the volume and looked over at her. Her red, swollen eyes left little doubt that there’d been tears. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She wiped her cheeks. “Not really, but I haven’t been okay in a while.”
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s my problem, and I’ll take care of it, but I was wondering if you’d do me a favor.”
He took his feet off the coffee table and sat up. “What kind of favor?”
“It’s sort of an odd request.”
This made him leery. Noelle always approached him with one odd request or another. “I’m listening.”
“I was hoping you’d call my manager and ask for Crystal Holtree.”
“Who’s Crystal Holtree?”
“If you don’t know yet, you will within the next year. She’s another singer—Nashville’s new darling. Derrick manages her career, too.”
“And you want to see if he’s managing a bit more than that.”
Her chest rose as she took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Are you sure you should check up on him like this?”
“My heart is telling me he’d never be unfaithful, but my head is telling me something else. I’m going crazy, becoming so insecure. I have to know if it’s him—or me.”
He rubbed his chin as he thought about her request.
“It’s just one phone call,” she said.
“But he knows who I am.”
“Okay, it’s one phone call and you’ll have to claim to be someone else.”
“Like...”
She spread out her hands. “Robin Graham.”
“Who’s Robin Graham?”
“No one. I made up the name. You could say you’re Robin Graham with Country Weekly or CMT and you’d like to interview Crystal. That’s all you’d have to do. He wouldn’t want her to miss that call. If she’s with him, he’ll hand over the phone, and if he hands over the phone, he’s been lying to me.”
“But he has my cell number in his contacts. I put it in the rental ad.”
“You don’t have another phone?”
“Not here at home. I guess I could block my number...”
She nibbled uncertainly on her lower lip. “No, a blocked number wouldn’t be believable.”
“Then we’d have to go over to the office. I have an extra line that wouldn’t give the name of my company on caller ID.”
She appeared more hopeful. “Would you mind?”
It wasn’t really his place to get involved. Also, it was snowing pretty hard. He could hear the wind railing against the house. But he had a four-wheel drive, they wouldn’t have far to go and the storm didn’t seem to be nearly as bad as forecasted, certainly no worse than several they’d had in recent years.
Besides, he could feel her uncertainty. Maybe Derrick Meade wasn’t cheating. Maybe they could relieve her anxiety so she could focus on writing those songs she’d mentioned. She seemed to be down on her luck, but not in the same way Noelle always was. Lourdes had seen a lot of success. She might be someone for whom a little help would make a big difference. “I wouldn’t mind, but—” he checked his watch “—it’s nearly nine in Nashville. Won’t it seem strange to get a business call that late?”
“Not from a harried reporter trying to hit a deadline.”
“Okay,” he said. “Come on.”
4
After Kyle waved her into the seat across from his desk and picked up the phone, Lourdes could only wring her hands. Was she about to find out if all the anxiety and concern she’d been feeling had a basis in reality?
“What’s his number?” he asked.
He could look it up on his cell, but there was no need when she knew it by heart.
She rattled off the digits as she shook snow off her coat. Then she held her breath as he dialed. On the drive over, she’d educated him so he’d sound like a believable country magazine reporter, but she had no idea how he’d handle himself once he had Derrick on the phone.
“Hello?”
Derrick must’ve answered! Lourdes felt her stomach twist into knots.
Clearing his throat, Kyle stood. “Mr. Meade? This is Graham...Gibb with Country Weekly.” He threw her a quizzical look that told her he’d gapped on the name she’d given him and had to improvise. Fortunately, he’d remembered the magazine correctly. That would’ve been a lot tougher to fake, since Derrick knew all the magazines that mattered in their industry. “I understand you manage Crystal Holtree...Yes, I’ve heard that song. It’s amazing. I apologize for calling so late, but I’m up against a deadline and was wondering if she might be available for a quick interview...Mmm-hmm...Right. What I’d originally planned for this issue fell apart, so I thought I’d change it up and write a piece on an emerging artist...Okay...Sure.”
He covered the phone. “He’s giving me her number,” he mouthed. “What should I do?”
“Hang up,” she whispered.
“Won’t he get suspicious?”
“He won’t guess it’s me. I’ve never done anything like this before.” She’d never felt she had to, not until Crystal entered their lives...
Flicking his wet hair out of his face, he removed his hand from the receiver. “Sorry for the interruption. My wife’s telling me that my editor’s been trying to reach me. She’s already backfilled the interview with someone else, so I apologize for the false alarm. I’ll keep Ms. Holtree in mind for future articles, though...Yes, I agree. She’s talented. I’ll see what I can do in the next few months.”
He hung up. Then he sank into his chair. “I’m not sure that was completely believable.”
Lourdes couldn’t be sure, either. She’d been straining the bounds of credulity when she’d had Kyle call so late. Crystal was generating sufficient interest that it wasn’t inconceivable, but it was Lourdes’s emotions that were driving her these days—not logic. That was why she’d had to pull away from Nashville. She needed to get her priorities straight, put recent setbacks in perspective. “You handled it well.”
“But we didn’t learn anything. Maybe she was there, and he’s just too smart to give himself away.”
“Did he even try to suggest me for the interview? Or for another one later?”
“No. He might’ve if we’d talked longer.”
“He would’ve a year ago, no matter what.”
Kyle drummed his fingers on the desk. “Maybe he couldn’t.”
“You think she’s there?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You sensed a hesitancy or something that makes you wonder.”
He grimaced as if he didn’t want to admit that, but she could tell it was true.
She dropped her head in her hand. “Shit.”
Before he could respond, the office phone rang.
He glanced over at her. “It’s the Ooma line I just used, and I shouldn’t be getting any calls this time of night.”
Her heart began to pound. “What happens if you don’t answer?”
“It rolls over to the regular lines and eventually goes to voice mail for First Step Solar.”
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“Grab it,” she cried, but he must’ve come to the same conclusion, because he was already reaching for the handset.
“Graham Gibb.”
Lourdes held her breath. If Kyle’s caller happened to be looking for solar panels, he or she would be quite confused. But, in the next second, it became apparent that Derrick was calling back, just as they’d feared.
“Great,” Kyle said. “That’s convenient...” He squeezed his forehead with one hand as if he regretted getting mixed up in her little ruse—or was worried about the fallout. “Of course I’d like to speak to her...Sure...Put her on...”
Derrick must’ve transferred the phone to Crystal, because, for the next several minutes, Lourdes had to sit there and listen to Kyle feign interest in Crystal’s burgeoning music career. When he could do so without seeming too dismissive, he cut in to say he had to go if he was going to finish his article tonight, that it had been a pleasure speaking to her and he’d get back to her if he ever had the opportunity to give her some press.
When he hung up, he rubbed a hand over his mouth. “So what do you make of that?”
“She called back awfully fast.”
“Derrick said she just stopped by to drop something off after we hung up.”
Lourdes felt sick to her stomach. She wished she could believe it was the coincidence Derrick claimed, but her intuition wouldn’t allow it. “What could Crystal need to drop off that she couldn’t email?”
Kyle shook his head.
“What did she say?” Lourdes asked.
“That she wanted to reach out and let me know she’d be happy to speak to me whenever. We could even have lunch. That sort of thing.”
“Was it convincing?”
He didn’t seem too keen on committing himself.
“Kyle? Did you get the impression Derrick was pretending she’d suddenly shown up?”
“That’s a tough question,” he hedged.
She blew on her hands, which hadn’t warmed up since their journey through the storm. “Because you think they’re having an affair.”
“Because I don’t really know!”
“God, I hate this,” she said. “I hate feeling as if I’m being taken for a fool. And I hate feeling I can’t trust the man I love.”
“Has he ever cheated on you before?”
“Not that I know of. But he’s never been so preoccupied and distant, either. Never been so swept away with someone else.” He also had a history that included an extramarital affair with an intern, well before he met her, but Lourdes didn’t volunteer that information. She’d chosen to believe he’d just messed up, that he regretted it—but she understood that others might not give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was merely enamored with Crystal’s potential, as he claimed. “It doesn’t help that she’s younger, prettier and more talented than I am,” she grumbled.
Kyle looked shocked. “She might be younger, and I’m no judge of singing talent, so I can’t weigh in there. But she couldn’t be any more beautiful.”
It was a nice compliment. One that sounded sincere.
Maybe if Lourdes hadn’t been so distraught, she could’ve appreciated it.
* * *
Kyle stared at the ceiling for at least an hour after he went to bed. He felt bad for Lourdes. Clearly, she was stumbling through that unique hell reserved for partners of the unfaithful. Can he change? Will he change? Should I give him the opportunity to change? Does he really love me—or does he love her? Kyle had discussed those questions with her at great length over the past three hours. While the snow continued to fall outside, they’d shared a bottle of pinot noir and Lourdes had told him that even though coming to Whiskey Creek had been her idea—she’d seen it as a way to withdraw from public life so she could “reset”—Derrick had promised to come with her. He’d said they’d use whatever time she didn’t spend writing to rebuild their relationship, since they’d been having so much difficulty getting along. So even if Derrick hadn’t been lying about Crystal tonight, he’d put Lourdes off and that led Kyle to believe he probably was too caught up with his new client. Hearing from Crystal so soon after calling Derrick was certainly suspect, despite Derrick’s explanation—since that explanation was flimsy at best.
Lourdes seemed like a nice person who didn’t deserve the turmoil she was going through. But whether or not Derrick was cheating wasn’t the only thing on Kyle’s mind. Discussing her problems had forced him to face that his own life needed an overhaul. The woman he loved—had always loved—was married to his stepbrother, which created an awkward challenge whenever he saw them (and he saw them often). To make matters worse, he had an ex-wife who wouldn’t let go, who claimed she still loved him, even though, from what he remembered, she’d hated being married as much as he had. And almost all his friends were not only in committed relationships but having children, too. They’d moved on and he hadn’t. He felt lonely and shiftless whenever he wasn’t completely immersed in his work. So he worked longer and longer hours, which made it even harder to meet someone.
He was approaching forty. If he was going to marry and have kids, he needed to do it soon. But he hadn’t met a woman who could replace Olivia—and he was beginning to fear he never would.
His phone buzzed. Leaning up on one elbow, he squinted to see who’d texted him. It was Riley Stinson, the most recent of his close friends to find a mate.
You still up?
Kyle had missed a call from Riley earlier. He hadn’t gotten back to him, so although he was exhausted, he shoved himself into a sitting position.
I am. Sorry I missed your call today. Got a tenant for the farmhouse. Been handling that. What’s up?
Kyle wasn’t sure why he’d asked what was up. He knew what was up with Riley. After months spent trying to atone for their difficult history, Riley had finally talked Phoenix Fuller into marrying him. They’d set the date for December 30 and were planning a big wedding. It was all Riley could talk about. And, if Kyle was being honest, that made him a lot less eager to take Riley’s calls. Now that Riley was settling down, Kyle would be the only single member of their group, except for Baxter—and, as Noelle had pointed out, his relationship with Baxter wouldn’t be very conducive to meeting women.
Instead of texting back, Riley called. “Hey, you rented the farmhouse, huh?”
Kyle could hear the wind buffeting the trees against the house, but the worst of the storm seemed to be over. “I did,” he said as he dropped onto his pillows.
“To who?”
The words “Someone from Nashville” were on the tip of his tongue. That was what he planned to tell most people. But Riley was one of his best friends. He could trust Riley with his life. “Lourdes Bennett.”
“Lourdes who?”
“Bennett. She’s a country-western singer—sings ‘Heartbreak’ and ‘Stone Cold Lover.’”
“That Lourdes Bennett? Are you kidding me?”
“No, but don’t tell anyone she’s in town. She’s trying to keep a low profile.”
“I won’t tell a soul. But if Lourdes wanted to move here, why wouldn’t she buy her own place? She’s got to have the money.”
“This is just a short-term thing, until she finishes writing the songs for her next album.”
“Don’t most major artists buy songs from songwriters?”
“I’m sure some do, but I guess she prefers to come up with her own material.” He heard the toilet flush down the hall. Lourdes was still up—which didn’t surprise him. Derrick had called as they poured the last of that bottle of wine. She’d probably just finished talking to him. “Did you need something when you tried to reach me earlier?” he asked Riley.
“Mostly I wanted to check in, see what you’ve been up to. Seems like we’ve both been so busy with work we hardly talk anymore.”
It wasn�
�t because of work. It was because Riley’s private life was doing what it should and Kyle’s wasn’t. But he didn’t comment on that. No one enjoyed hearing other people complain about something they couldn’t have. “We’ll see each other tomorrow morning at Black Gold, won’t we?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. So will Phoenix. But besides checking in, I was hoping to talk to you about the wedding.”
The wedding. Of course. Olivia was planning it, so Kyle heard about it even from her. “You’re down to what...four weeks? That’s crazy.”
“It’s coming up fast, which is why I’m in sort of a hurry.”
“To...”
“I was wondering if you’d marry us.”
Kyle nearly dropped his phone. Riley’s teenage son would be best man. He hadn’t expected to do anything other than standing in Riley’s line, along with the rest of the guys in their group of friends. “You mean...perform the ceremony?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Doesn’t that require a preacher?”
“Apparently not. I was remodeling a kitchen the other day when the guy who hired me said he’d performed his daughter’s wedding. He told me all he had to do was sign up online.”
“Where?”
“I’m sure it’ll come up if you look for it on Google. If you can’t find it, give me a call and I’ll ask him.”
“And Phoenix...she’s okay with having me play that role?”
“You know how Phoenix feels about you. She was thrilled when I suggested it.”
“But your parents will expect you to use their minister, won’t they?”
“This isn’t their wedding. I plan to make sure it’s everything Phoenix wants.”