A Winter Wedding (Whiskey Creek)

by Brenda Novak

  She always had to make Noelle look bad, even though Olivia had married Brandon, a man just as good-looking and successful as Kyle. Olivia had everything her spoiled heart could desire.

  How was that fair? How was any of this fair?

  “That’s all you’re going to say?” Noelle said. “I’m sitting over here in this piece of shit condo of Cousin Harry’s, trying to keep it in some kind of decent shape, with Christmas coming up, no job and an ex-husband who’s trying to pound the last nail in my coffin. And all you can say is you’re sorry?”

  “I don’t know what else you expect.”

  “Why don’t you do something to help me for a change?” she screamed. “Put some action behind all that sisterly love you’re pretending to feel?”

  “Noelle, have you been drinking? That’s the only time you get so belligerent.”

  Slamming the faucet wide-open, Noelle let the water pour. “I’ve had a bit to drink. Wouldn’t you, if you’d just lost your job and everyone was turning against you at the same time? Even my own sister won’t help.”

  “In what way?”

  “You have so much. You could get me through this rough spot if you really wanted to.”

  “Noelle, we’ve gone over this before. Brandon and I make our decisions together, and we’ve agreed that we won’t give you any money.”

  “Because both of you are too stingy!”

  “That’s not true!” Olivia said. “You can call me stingy if you want, but Brandon is one of the most generous people I know. The problem is, you’ve manipulated people in the past. That makes it difficult to trust you.”

  “What a bullshit excuse. But if you won’t lend me any money, even though you’re my freaking sister, at least put in a good word for me with Kyle. He worships the ground you walk on. All you’d have to do is hint that you won’t put up with him treating me badly, and he’d change his tune right away. He’d do anything for you—Lourdes Bennett or no Lourdes Bennett.”

  “I’m not convinced of that,” Olivia said. “Not anymore.”

  “Oh, quit it. Kyle and I would still be together if it wasn’t for how badly he wants you. You’re the reason my marriage fell apart, and yet you think you have reason to be bitter.”

  “You leave me almost speechless when you say stuff like that. You knew Kyle wasn’t in love with you when you married him, so you can’t blame me as the reason it didn’t work out. No matter how you twist things—that Kyle pursued you and you gave in during a weak moment, or however you’ve attempted to explain it to me in the past—you slept with the man your sister was in love with. The man your sister had been sleeping with for two years, and you did it practically the minute I left town. Even worse, you got pregnant by him—”

  “As if I had any control over that! And I lost my baby! Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough?”

  There was a brief silence, after which Olivia spoke in a more measured tone. “Noelle, let’s stop this before...before we ruin the progress we’ve made. I can’t get involved. I love you as my sister, but whatever happens with you and Kyle...that’s between the two of you.”

  “Great. Thanks for nothing,” she said and hit the end button. But she wasn’t going to leave it there. Olivia, Kyle and Brandon and all their popular, stuck-up friends had everything. They’d always had everything, and they’d never been willing to spare even a few kind words for her.

  She was going to get back at them if it was the last thing she did.

  * * *

  The article in the Gold Country Gazette hit the national media six days later, on Thursday. Lourdes had been about to start dinner when she received several texts from Derrick.

  What the hell? You’re seeing someone else? Already? When were you going to tell me?

  And:

  No response? What we had for three years doesn’t warrant even a short explanation?

  He’d tried to call her several times, too, but she’d let those calls transfer to voice mail. If he cared about her, if he was planning to save their relationship, he wouldn’t have left things as they were since her ultimatum about Crystal.

  Besides, she felt she should see what was circulating in the media before she took him on in any kind of argument.

  Rubbing her arms against a sudden chill, she sat at the kitchen table with her laptop and put her name into a search engine.

  Sure enough, there were quite a few Tweets, Facebook postings and blog mentions on the internet. Her love life wasn’t exactly front-page news, but it was receiving a fair amount of attention in the world of celebrity gossip. Nearly an hour later, she was still sifting through posts and articles.

  Country Star Lourdes Bennett Bails Out on Love?

  After more than three years, Lourdes Bennett is no longer romantically involved with her manager, Derrick Meade. According to an interview given to the Gold Country Gazette, a small paper in the town of Whiskey Creek, California, where she’s taking a sabbatical from the music business, she’s dating a new man...

  Lourdes didn’t mind that article so much. It was fairly factual. Many others were also based mostly on what she’d said. But some weren’t.

  Has Crystal “Hottie” Holtree stolen Lourdes Bennett’s man?

  For several months rumors have been floating around the country music industry that chart topper Lourdes Bennett’s highly anticipated wedding to her manager and longtime beau, Derrick Meade, might be on hold—or canceled altogether. It seems that interloper Crystal Holtree has not only upstaged Lourdes in her professional life but in her private life, as well. Word from an anonymous friend tells I Heart Country that the embattled Lourdes has abandoned Nashville for the safer climes of Northern California where she grew up...

  Which friend had spoken to the media? Lourdes wondered. Probably no one very close to her. Her real friends wouldn’t betray her like that. For all she knew, it was one of the assistants or interns at her old label. Maybe someone there had seen her arguing with Derrick—out in the parking lot, perhaps? Because she’d never been stupid enough to reveal her displeasure in public.

  For that matter, it could’ve been someone on her stage crew who overheard them arguing in her trailer...

  Refusing to read the rest of that particular article, she skipped to the next link.

  Business or Pleasure?

  You decide. What’s going on in this tête-à-tête between country music’s latest darling, Crystal Holtree, and her manager, Derrick Meade?

  The picture posted with that headline and blurb certainly didn’t make Derrick appear very upset to have lost the woman he’d planned to marry. Judging by all the shopping bags, he and Crystal had been out buying Christmas gifts and were finishing up with an intimate lunch.

  “Definitely not business,” she muttered, and it was obvious from the comments that everyone who’d read the article agreed with her. Below the picture, the journalist had included three facetious multiple-choice answers.

  Crystal takes Lourdes’s place on more than just the music charts.

  That one stung—and brought back the panic she’d been feeling when she first arrived in Whiskey Creek. Everything she’d built was ruined, gone. She was twenty-nine and it felt as if her life was over.

  Don’t freak out. You’ve been doing so much better, she reminded herself. Kyle had such a calming influence on her. She thought of him briefly and told herself he’d be home soon. But she couldn’t turn off her computer before reading the rest of those multiple-choice answers.

  Quit assuming the worst! Crystal isn’t leaning close to intentionally show Derrick all that cleavage. She’s merely discussing the possibility of creating a baby...er...Christmas album with him.

  Baby. “Good luck with that,” Lourdes muttered. She was fairly certain Derrick didn’t want children and that he wouldn’t be a very devoted father if he had any.


  The last choice was:

  No judgments here. Give the guy a cigar. Any man who’s slept with both Lourdes Bennett and Crystal Holtree is hands down the luckiest man on earth.

  Lourdes grimaced, disgusted that anyone would applaud his infidelity.

  There was a noise at the door—the key in the lock. Instantly relieved, she looked up as Kyle came in.

  “Hey, how was your day?” he asked when he saw her.

  As usual, he’d left for work before she got up. That was becoming their routine. He’d head off at the break of day, she’d get up an hour or two later, do some yoga and then write until it was time to cook dinner. Fortunately, she hadn’t seen a soul since Noelle had dropped off that meal. Even Noelle hadn’t been back for that photograph she’d requested.

  “My day was good until I got on the computer,” she admitted.

  He tossed his keys on the counter. “Word’s out?”

  “Yeah. The vultures are circling, looking for any opportunity to pick my bones. You should see what these people have written...”

  When he walked over, she thought he was going to read what she’d found. Instead, he closed her laptop. “Don’t look at that stuff.”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  “No, and I don’t want to.”

  “It’s just like I said it would be—crazy.”

  “I believe you. But who cares what they say? Let them say what they want. You’ll show them when you put out your next album and it goes platinum within a few weeks.”

  She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. “You really think I can do it?”

  “I have no doubt.”

  That helped. The past couple of nights she’d sung him snippets of what she’d been working on during the day. She didn’t have a lot done—a couple of melodies with partial lyrics. But they were seeds, good seeds, and she was grateful to have at least started her next album. When she’d arrived in Whiskey Creek, she hadn’t been able to come up with a single new idea. She’d been too anxious, too preoccupied with all the wreckage in her life.

  Until she’d met Kyle.

  “Derrick’s betting against me.” She rested her chin on her knees as she gazed up at him. “He doesn’t believe I can stage a comeback.”

  Kyle pulled out the closest chair and sat down. “How do you know?”

  “He thinks Crystal has a greater chance of succeeding. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be sticking with her.”

  “Then Derrick’s a fool.” His lips curved into the crooked grin she liked so much and, in spite of everything, she felt an answering smile tug at her own lips. When Kyle was around, her career and even her relationship with Derrick didn’t seem as important as when she was alone.

  He gestured at her computer. “I hope you didn’t spend your entire day on the internet.”

  “No.”

  Angling his chin, he said, “Prove it.”

  She felt her eyebrows go up. “How?”

  “Get your guitar and show me what you’ve accomplished.”

  She hadn’t accomplished dinner. That was one thing she’d let go, and she felt bad about it. He bought the groceries; she did the cooking. They had a deal. But ever since those texts from Derrick, she’d been consumed by the same fear that had made it so hard for her to function in Nashville. “I added a bit more to that anthem you like.”

  “Good. The sooner you’re done with it, the better. That’s a kick-ass song.”

  She favored songs about women overcoming challenges or beating the odds, which was why Martina McBride and Kelly Clarkson had always been two of her favorite artists.

  “What about the ballad?” he asked.

  “I fiddled with the melody, changed the key to make it more interesting, but...nothing more.”

  “So let’s hear it.”

  Normally, they had a companionable dinner. Then they’d have a glass of wine, which they’d take into the living room, and she’d test various lyrics or melodies on him. He seemed to enjoy listening to her. He claimed he didn’t possess any musical or writing talent, but she’d tweaked several things because of his feedback. She’d also come up with a name and a few bars for one song she hadn’t told him about—“Refuge,” the song she’d thought of that first day when she’d moved into his house and felt so inspired by how safe she felt here. She wanted to finish that before she mentioned it. She doubted he had any concept of how much their friendship had helped her, coming as it did at such a critical time. She’d been prepared for the worst Christmas ever, one full of heartbreak and confusion and loss. Instead, she was finding a completely unexpected sense of steadiness and calm.

  “After I get you something for dinner.” She stood up, but he caught her hand as she walked by.

  “Let’s go out. You’ve been in this house for over a week. You must be claustrophobic by now. I think it would be good to get a break. It might even help your writing.”

  She had been feeling a little confined. But she didn’t want to run into anyone who might recognize her, especially now that there was so much gossip going around the internet.

  “We could drive over to Jackson,” he said before she could refuse. “You could wear a hat and glasses, if you like. Other than our server, there really wouldn’t be anyone to make a fuss. If anything like that starts to develop, I’ll put a quick stop to it and get you out of there, I promise.”

  Had she trusted him any less, she might not have agreed to go. But she knew he’d do his best to look out for her.

  “We can drive around and see the Christmas lights afterward,” he said.

  The thought of putting on some makeup and heading into the cool December air was invigorating. Going out allowed her to escape her computer, which seemed ominous sitting there on the table. Maybe she could just be a woman having dinner with a nice man and not the has-been artist, dumped-for-someone-else girlfriend of her fickle manager. “Okay. Where will we eat?”

  “There’s a dimly lit steak house with excellent food that I like. I suggest we go there.”

  She started down the hall. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

  19

  Kyle hadn’t heard from Noelle since he’d put her on notice that he wouldn’t pay her anymore if she continued to insert herself in his life—and he was feeling like a new man. He wished he’d insisted years ago that she not contact him. He hadn’t even realized how smothered he’d felt until he no longer had to worry about her. In fact, he’d decided that once Lourdes left for Nashville, he wasn’t going to feel any regret about remaining single. He planned to embrace his bachelorhood, make the most of it. Ever since he was young, he’d wanted a family, but people didn’t always get what they wanted. And now that he was escaping those old feelings for Olivia, and the long reach of his ex-wife, he figured there were other ways to be happy.

  The freedom he felt right now was making him happy, wasn’t it?

  So maybe searching for a partner wasn’t worth the risk, not when being with the wrong person could ruin his life. Think of the potential arguments and heartbreak he could avoid, he told himself. Sure, his friends were satisfied with their marriages. But he had no guarantee that the next woman he dated would be any better than Noelle—and that was a terrifying thought.

  Anyway, he could think about marriage and children later, if he changed his mind. Maybe in five years or so he’d be willing to try again.

  “You seem to be in a good mood,” Lourdes said, appraising him from the passenger seat.

  They were stopped at one of only two lights in town, so he didn’t have to keep his eye on the road. But he barely glanced over at her. He didn’t want to acknowledge how attractive she was. She hadn’t worn the sunglasses and hat he’d suggested to camouflage her appearance. She’d put on a little black dress and come out of the bathroom looking as beautifu
l as if she was ready to step onstage.

  But it wasn’t just her appearance he found pleasing. He enjoyed her company. Each day he left work a few minutes earlier.

  Still, his excitement at being able to relegate Olivia and Noelle to the past was tempered by a fair bit of caution. If he wasn’t careful, he could end up in a situation that wasn’t any more fulfilling than the one he’d gotten out of.

  He had to guard against that, and he knew it. “How can you tell?”

  “You were smiling a second ago.”

  “I was thinking about something.”

  “What?”

  “I haven’t heard from Noelle. I wish I’d threatened to turn off the money before. I could’ve saved myself a lot of grief.”

  “I’m surprised.”

  “That I’d be so relieved?” he said drily.

  “No. That she’d back off. When you told me you’d called her, I was worried. You’re clearly the best thing she’s ever had. I was afraid she wouldn’t let you go that easily.”

  “What can she do? Nothing, if she wants my money.”

  “Your money may not be as important to her as you are.”

  That idea brought a sense of claustrophobia. “Don’t say that. She sleeps with other guys and she’s had various relationships. It’s not as if she truly cares about me.”

  “What if all those relationships have only showed her how good she had it with you? They might be what keeps bringing her back.”

  “But we weren’t happy together. Even she has to acknowledge that.”

  “Not necessarily. Some people believe what they want to believe—and she might believe that her life would be perfect if she could get you back. Anyway, you’ll still run into her here and there. You’d have to move away to avoid seeing her entirely.”