Later that night, movie over, they were at the after party and Jack was not having a good time. Normally he didn't mind dressing in a tuxedo. But tonight the tie was close to strangling him and his shoes pinched. His skin felt too tight on his frame, almost as though something in the material of his suit had caused it to shrink. He felt miserable and if he could believe Karen he looked even worse. By ten, he was past ready to leave. The only reason he was still there was because he was waiting until Buster arrived. Wrangling a last minute invitation for an up and coming movie star had been a breeze, so Jack thought tonight would be the perfect opportunity to introduce his two friends.
"If you aren't going to leave at least stand someplace else. You're frightening everyone."
"I thought that was the point. Big, bad bodyguard equals look but don't touch."
"Do you want to tell me about her?" Karen squeezed his arm, her eyes full of sympathy. I figured that she would guess what his problem was, especially when the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it.
Even so, Jack almost caved. Karen was a friend and a woman. Maybe she would have some insight, some words of wisdom to help relieve the growing frustration that of late had become his constant companion. Jack was just about to start spilling his guts when he saw Buster waving at him from across the room. Just as well, Karen probably would have sided with Rose. And wouldn't that have added to his pissed off attitude.
"I appreciate the offer, Karen." She didn't look convinced. "I'll let you know if I change my mind. But right now there's someone I'd like you to meet."
As it turned out, Buster didn't need Jack at all. After a brief introduction, Karen and Buster drifted off as though he wasn't even there. In fact, they didn't seem to be aware that there was anyone else in the room. Jack watched for a minute; they look good together, he thought, right. Was that how he looked when he was with Rose? Enthralled, besotted? A complete goner?
Jack glanced at his watch. Ten-thirty, it was a little late to fly home tonight. He'd be better off catching a few hours sleep and then getting an early start in the morning. He looked at his friends again. Buster was beaming and Karen was staring up at him like he was the only man on earth. And that's when he knew. He wasn't giving up. What he and Rose had was worth fighting for. It might take some time and patience, but he was going to do his damndest to make Rose believe it too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
"YOU'VE BEEN A very bad girl, Rose.
Those words, that voice. She used to hear both in her nightmares. It had been a long time since her subconscious had let Louise slip past the barriers Rose had erected. Just the whisper of that voice used to bring back the horrors associated with it, making her relive everything over and over again. And then when she awoke it would all be fresh in her mind, as though the time between the past and the present had been days instead of years.
"I tried calling you but the number seems to have been disconnected." Rose almost gagged at the sugary sweet words. "Now why would you have done that?"
Rose could feel the familiar cold start moving over her body. Her body was telling that even though she couldn't run she could stop feeling. But this time was different. She wouldn't let Louise win, not again. Think of Jack, her mind cried. Jack is love. Love is warmth. It was those thoughts that started to pull her back. She wasn't a helpless child anymore. She knew how to fight.
For the first time, Rose looked at Louise, really looked at her. Over the years, she had built the woman into a larger than life villain but in reality she was a head shorter than Rose. In a fight she would be able to snap her like a brittle twig. Feeling stronger, in control, Rose pulled her shoulders back and looked her Louise directly in the eye. It didn't matter why she was here; Rose was done playing her victim.
"Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of, Louise. There's nothing here for you."
Rose turned to let Edgar out and get them both into the house, but Louise wasn't giving up that easily.
"I was thinking how nice it would be if I moved to this quaint little town. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could see each other every day?"
"Cut the crap, Louise." Rose's voice was strong and steady. "You don't want to live in Harper Falls. So tell me what this is about. And make it quick, my patience is wearing thin."
The surprise was obvious on Louise's face. She obviously hadn't expected any opposition.
"Very well, if you insist on skipping the niceties." Louise dragged out the last word. They both knew there had never been anything nice between them. "I'm a little down at the moment and since you wouldn't miss it, I want one hundred thousand dollars."
The amount didn't stagger her, but the woman's gall came close to doing so. Rose felt another burst of energizing heat surge through her body, clearing her mind and sharpening her vision. Louise did look frayed around the edges. Her clothing was a bit wrinkled, her shoes more bargain basement that couture. It appeared her last fiancé had seen the light before she could get him down the aisle. If Rose had been meeting her for the first time, she might have felt some sympathy for her. A woman alone, few options left. But this was Louise. She was never alone for long and she always had a plan. At the moment, that plan appeared to be hitting Rose up for a hefty chunk of money.
"You do seem to need my help." Rose reached into her purse and took out a pen and her checkbook. The light from the nearby lamppost caught the satisfied, predatory gleam in Louise's eyes. Using the hood of her car for stability Rose wrote quickly, she just wanted to put any end to this farce. She ripped the paper out and handed it to Louise.
"Now that wasn't so difficult, was it?" Louise was delighted. It was the easiest money she'd ever made. She was practically quivering with excitement as she looked down at her salvation.
"What the hell is this?"
Rose imagined that three octave shriek must have had the entire neighborhood looking out their windows.
"That is the name of a realtor in town who handles apartment rentals. He should be able to recommend some decent low-income housing, just until you get back on your feet."
Rose opened the car door and attached Edgar's lead. As always he was as delighted to get out as he had been to get in. Not bothering to put her car in the garage Rose headed for her front door. She walked by Louise without a glance. She couldn't imagine that the woman would stay in Harper Falls, but if she did Rose was finally past caring.
"I know where your father is."
She stopped, her head slumping forward. So Louise had one final card to play. Up until that moment, Rose had been proud of the way she'd handled things. She'd gone from icy cold dread to hot indignation, and finally to an almost Zen-like acceptance. But the bitch had finally done it, she'd unleashed angry Rose. And Louise was not going to like her when she was angry.
She bent down and whispered to Edgar, "Stay here baby, this will only take a minute."
"Did you hear what I said?"
"You stupid, crazy harpy." Rose rounded on her with such force that Louise stumbled back against her car. "The fact that you even have the nerve to show your face to me is bad enough. Then to ask me for money? Unbelievable. But to bring my father into this? Whatever sanity that you've been clinging to all these years must have finally completely deserted you."
Desperate to somehow salvage the situation, Louise drew herself up and gave Rose a look that at one time would have had her shaking with fear. Now it only added fuel to her fire. Louise ignored the warning signs and pushed on.
"Your mother never was woman enough for him." Louise ran a bony hand down her side as if illustrating what men really wanted. Rose wondered if the woman had looked in the mirror lately. "He only married her because she got herself pregnant and he thought he should do the right thing. It didn't take much effort on my part to convince him that'd he'd made a mistake. We spent a glorious month in Aruba. I believe your mother was pushing you out around that time."
Louise hoped her gouging words would open old wounds; she wanted to draw blood. But Rose bar
ely felt a twinge. The only reason she didn't walk away was morbid curiosity. How far would this woman go? How much lower could she sink?
"We still see each other from time to time. He's an amazing lover. But I don't have to tell you about amazing lovers. Jack Winston would keep any woman satisfied. Did he tell you about my little visit?"
And with that Rose had her answer. Louise was incapable of hitting bottom; she just kept slithering down to new depths of awful.
"Enough." Rose cut the other woman off before she could continue. "These will be the last words I ever plan to say to you, so listen carefully. First, I don't know what kind of sick dynamic was going on between my mother and father and you. But I do know that you all deserved each other. As for you knowing where I can find dear old dad? As far as I'm concerned you can take that little secret to the grave. Don't you think if I'd wanted to find him I would have? The last thing I need is another narcissistic parasite in my life."
Rose watched Louise struggling to comprehend what was happening. It was all slipping away and this time there was no pulling it back. One more snip and Rose would be free for good.
"As for Jack? You never had a shot and the fact that you would insinuate otherwise amazes me. Jack wouldn't do that to me. I know loyalty is a foreign concept to you but believe me, it does exist." Rose felt her anger draining away. Louise wasn't worth the energy. "But just for arguments sake let's say you'd met him before he knew me. Unlike so many women, you haven't gotten better with age. You reek of desperation. It rolls off of you in sickening, unctuous waves. Jack wouldn't touch you, he could barely stand to be in the same room with you. As for me? Even out here the stink of you is too much. It's over, Louise. We-Are-Done." Rose picked up Edgar's lead this time determined that nothing would stop her from getting into the house. She hadn't gone three steps when Louise let out an ear splitting scream.
"Police! Someone, please. I've been viciously attacked. Someone call the police."
Rose didn't bother to look back. "I'll be happy to dial 911. But we've had an audience for the last half hour. You can try pressing your bogus charges, but I'm very friendly with my neighbors and they no doubt will be more than happy to testify on my behalf."
She was putting the key in the lock when she heard the slam of a car door. The motor protested once and then coughed to life. What followed was the sound of screeching tires. It signaled the end of Louise. That part of her life was finally over.
"No looking back, Edgar. My future is wide open, and I plan on living it with you and Jack."
Edgar followed her into the house. He didn't care about the drama that had just unfolded. He was with Rose, and she was happy. The only thing missing was Jack. But Edgar knew he would be back soon, Jack never left for long. He made a circle in his bed and settled with a contented sigh. Rose and Jack and Edgar—perfect.
ROSE WAS WAITING for the crash. She had been up for almost twenty-four hours straight. In that time, she had fallen in love—or finally admitted it, had the long overdue confrontation with Louise, which by itself should have left her feeling like a wrung out dish rag. And to top it off, she had spent the last twelve hours pouring her heart and soul into the song she'd almost decided she couldn't write. But this time when she picked up her guitar and played the first few notes the words had flowed out like the water from a gentle stream. Like Jack's favorite stream. The place where he'd shared his childhood dreams. Where they had made sweet love under the sheltering oak as a warm spring rain began to fall on them.
Twenty-four hours of emotional turmoil and she was still riding an adrenaline high the likes of which she'd never known. She fed Edgar and let him out to run around and do his morning business and then ran upstairs to take a quick shower. After she had dried off and put on a pair of leggings and loose cotton pullover, she checked the clock. Eight-fifteen. More than anything she wanted to call Jack and tell him everything. About the song, about Louise—about how much she loved him. But he wasn't due back from Los Angeles for a few more days and those were things that she needed to say to him in person. So instead she called Paris.
"What!" Sam Laughton sounded out of breath and in pain. He grunted again and let out of whoosh of air. Whatever was going on sounded horrible.
"Sam, are you alright?"
"No," he grunted again. "My trainer is a sadist. Enough Monique, I think we've kept my flab at bay for another few days."
Monique? Of course, Sam would have a woman trainer.
"Sorry about that Rose. My schedule has been so crazy that I have fit my workouts in whenever I can. By the way, what time is it there.?"
"Almost eight-thirty. You know, in the morning." All of a sudden her nerves were jangling around in her stomach and as usual mouth was over compensating with inane comments.
"Since this is the first time you've initiated any contact with me in oh, a month, can I assume that you have some good news?"
"It's done, Sam." She was glad he couldn't see her little happy dance. "When it finally came it came in a rush. I had the words in less than an hour and then I polished a bit and recorded the background and vocals, and if you check your email you can listen to the finished product."
"Impressive. Now, take a breath and relax. And no more caffeine.
"No caffeine here, I'm riding a natural high."
"Right," Sam sighed with exasperation. Artists, colossal pains in the ass, every one of them
Rose waited impatiently while Sam went to his office and opened the email attachment. She could hear the familiar opening chords. She paced back and forth for the next the next three minutes and forty-three seconds, now and then reminding herself to breath. And then there was nothing but silence. Did he hate it? Love it? Say something, damn it.
"Where the hell did that come from?"
"Now see here, Sam. That is the best thing I've ever written—no contest. I thought you were supposed to know your stuff but obviously…"
"I meant," Sam's voice was barely below a yell, effectively cutting off Rose's rant. "Where have you been hiding this side of you? I'm familiar with all your work, Rose. I agree that not only is this the best thing you've ever written, it's also one of the best original songs I've heard in all the years I've been in the business. Congratulations, Unconditional is exactly the anchor the movie needs. You have yourself a standard; this song is going to be around for a long, long time."
Rose was floored. She knew it was good, but Sam's response was beyond anything she had expected. "It means a lot to hear you say that."
"Just don't get used to the hearts and flowers. I still need you here in Paris. When can I expect you?"
"You don't need me there, Sam." She had worked with some stubborn control freak producers in her time, but Sam Laughton put the others to shame. "But if I do come it won't be until next week and I'll only be able to stay for a few days." She would have added that she wasn't coming alone, but she couldn't speak for Jack. She hoped he'd want to come with her for a mini-vacation but nothing there was settled between them, and until it was she didn't want to make any plans.
"I'll need you for more than a few days but we'll talk once you get here."
"I mean it Sam, a few days at the most. Now if that's all, I have a dog who's probably wondering what happened to me."
"Wait, one more thing."
"Yes?"
"Your voice is amazing. Why the hell aren't you recording your songs? I want you to sign with me and—"
"No, Sam." Not in this lifetime or any other.
"With your looks and voice? Are you crazy?"
"Goodbye, Sam."
"Rose, don't hang up." Sam incredulous. Nobody in their right mind turned down a chance like this. "At least think about it."
"No."
Rose ended the call before Sam could shoot out another offer. She had to admit it had been a killer demo. She had put everything into that vocal track. Her voice had contained a rich, vibrant, quality that had never been there before. What Sam didn't understand—and what she would never b
e able to explain—was that when she had recorded the song it had taken on a life of its own. For a few minutes only, she had been its willing vessel. She also knew without a doubt that she would never sound like that again. Some things you couldn't duplicate and, in this case, it was better not to try.
Rose scrubbed her hands over her face. There it was. She was starting to feel a heaviness to her movements. She was close to running on empty, but there were still a few things she needed to do before crawling into bed and shutting down for a few hours.
"Edgar." She called when he didn't come running. He was usually there the moment he heard the door open. The backyard wasn't a big enough area for the rapidly growing dog to get lost in or hide if he was so inclined. A little worried, Rose walked down the path to the little nook on the side of the house. It was the only place that she couldn't see from the deck and though it didn't seem likely Edgar would be over there; she went to look.
As she drew closer, she heard an odd noise. Not a whimper or a growl but a combination of the two. She hurried around the corner afraid that he might have somehow hurt himself. What she found stopped her in tracks.
"Oh, Edgar."
There he was, his once clean brown and white fur now matted with mud. He had found an old bucket that Rose used when she was gardening. During the last rain it must have filled with water and Edgar had tipped it over into a recently tilled but unplanted flower bed. After that he was in puppy heaven. It looked like he'd dug himself a nice hole and then rolled around, covering himself from nose to tail in the wet dirt. He was a sight to see.
Edgar raised his head and sniffed the air, he knew that scent. He turned to Rose, grinning ear to ear. She had time to notice two quick things before the she big, filthy dirtball smothered her. One, if his dark brown teeth were any indication he must have eaten as much of the mud as he rolled in. And two, it was hard to be a stern disciplinarian when you were being licked by an adoring dog.
Rose indulged Edgar and herself, rolling around with him for several minutes. By the time she finally called a halt to playtime he had transferred at least half of the mud onto her
If I Loved You (Harper Falls Book 1) Page 25