by Rayne, Piper
I get out of the taxi, and Jamison reunites with Sedona before I can respond. Everyone files into the restaurant, but I hang back and think over his words.
He’s right. I couldn’t be in LA knowing Griffin and Maverick were in Lake Starlight. I would miss them too much. It would’ve killed me.
When I join my family, I sit at the end of the table. They’ve allowed me to wallow thus far, but Sedona knocks me with her knee. I look up and she’s smiling, telling me in her nonverbal way that it will all work out.
I nod, although I have my doubts. Because if this is what I really want—the singing career—then why am I so unhappy?
My phone dings with a text from Jannie after the waiter has taken our drink orders.
Jannie: Guess whose song is being considered to be in a new movie?
Me: Who?
Jannie: You, silly. This is huge for you! I’ll email you over the details.
See? That news alone would usually have me hijacking this dinner to tell everyone my news, ordering shots for everyone to celebrate. But the one person who deserves to celebrate with me doesn’t want anything to do with me.
So I sip my wine and listen to my family badger my twin with questions. What will Sedona do now? Does she have applications out to any companies? I watch Jamison stare at Sedona, Liam’s hand on Savannah’s shoulder, Wyatt’s hand threaded through the hair at the back of Brooklyn’s head, and jealousy stirs inside.
I shake my head. Griffin wants it this way. This is the way it has to be, whether I like it or not.
Thirty-Five
Griffin
Two months, and my biggest problem is I have to hear Phoenix’s voice and the song I wrote for her all the damn time. I thought the Tyler Vaughn thing was bad, but this is ten times worse. Especially since the song is for Maverick’s mother’s new movie.
Yeah, welcome to hell with me.
“Can you please turn it off?” I ask Maverick.
“Can we go to the movie when it comes out?”
“No. It’s inappropriate.”
Phoenix was nice enough to send me a message before it got announced though. I thanked and congratulated her and didn’t say anything else.
I turn on the faucet, installed by my own two hands last week, and fill a pot with water. Took a little longer and a lot of YouTube videos, but I did it. The shelves in the garage are another story though. One fix-it project at a time.
The doorbell rings. For the first week or so after Juno, I worried whenever I went to answer it, but I’m over that. Opening the door though, I almost shut it in The Ghost of Christmas Future’s face.
She smiles and steps into my house with Ethel behind her, talking to someone.
“Welcome,” I say.
“Hey, Mav,” Dori says. “I’ll be on once I finish this.”
He sighs, not bothering to correct her anymore with the name thing. “Awesome. This is my last bit of homework and then summer vacation.”
Dori lifts her hand for a high five and he slaps it.
“You play online with him?” I ask.
“Yeah. It’s really fun. Ethel’s still getting the hang of it, but the whole retirement place is starting to pick it up. We used to do game nights, but this is much more fun than playing gin rummy and holding your nose. You know old people just blow wind whenever they want.”
I nod.
“Oh great, you fixed the sink. So you’re ready?” She pats Maverick on the back. “Give us a minute with your father.”
He hops down, taking his homework with him, and disappears upstairs. She certainly has a way with him.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Gotta go, Muriel.” Ethel presses her finger to her Bluetooth and concentrates on me.
“Yeah. You’ve proven you can fix a sink, so go get your girl,” Dori says.
I shake my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Let me tell you a story about me and my late husband, Albert. He wanted to be a fisherman, but he had this obligation to his father. For the company. Now, unlike you, he didn’t go buying a fishing boat…” She looks at Ethel then at me. “Hold on. I think that was for someone else.”
We sit in silence as she thinks a little longer.
“Did I ever tell you I was an ice skater? Probably could have been in the Olympics.” She stops again. “No, that’s for someone else too.” She scratches her head.
“Dori, you don’t have to give me some story that somehow relates to my situation with Phoenix. I love your granddaughter, but it’s just not the right time. I’m fairly sure since you and Albert lived in this town until he passed and you still live in this town with your nine grandchildren, that the two of you were happy in the same zip code. I don’t believe love can mature and blossom in two different states, let alone two places as drastically different as Lake Starlight and Los Angeles. So I appreciate you coming here to convince me to run off to LA and win your granddaughter back. I do. But it’s over, and she’s going to meet a guy—”
“A guy who’ll treat her poorly,” Ethel interjects, and Dori and I turn in her direction.
“What?” I demand.
“I saw her on a magazine cover with that Tyler Vaughn. I guess they might collaborate. There are rumors they’re a couple now.”
I shake my head. “No. Tabloids rarely tell the truth. I doubt Phoenix would involve herself with a guy like Tyler.”
“Men can have screens over their true selves,” Ethel says.
Dori pats Ethel’s hand. “Do you really want to leave Phoenix out there to men who don’t love her? Only want her for her body or her voice? Sleazy things happen down there.”
“It’s not all bad.”
Ethel’s eyes widen. “You moved from there. You didn’t want to live there anymore or have your son grow up there. But you’re willing to leave the woman you love down there? And she’s heartbroken, which means she’s vulnerable.”
I stand up straighter. Damn if Ethel doesn’t have some sound advice. But I can’t protect Phoenix. She has to live her life and make her own choices.
“I just don’t understand the youth today,” Ethel says, looking at Dori. “How come everyone just gives up? If my Frank had given up on me, he would have buried me first.”
Dori pats her hand again, and I’m pretty sure Ethel has quite a life story.
I shake my head. “No one is giving up, but there are obstacles.”
“Obstacles are meant only to steer you another way, not to block you,” Dori says.
Am I insane or are these two ladies making sense? I have to be desperate for any reason to run to her.
“If everyone stopped at an obstacle, I wouldn’t be able to vote,” Ethel says.
“There are ways around everything,” Dori says. “You just have to find what works best for you. People overthink everything.”
Did I give up too soon? Do I not have to sit here by myself? Could Phoenix allow us to work somehow? For her happiness, maybe I could spend some time in LA during the summer or Maverick’s school vacations.
“Oh, we’re here because Ethel’s granddaughter just got divorced and we’re looking to set her up,” Dori says.
I shake my head and look between them. “I thought you were here to get me back with Phoenix?”
Dori laughs. “No. You said you were done with her, so we figure let’s fix you up. She’s a sweet girl. She talks a lot but means well.”
“Dori?”
“What? I have a picture here. It was right on my phone.”
How can they even think I’d want to be fixed up? I just told them I was in love with Phoenix. “I love Phoenix.”
“Then why are you here?” Dori asks.
I look around as if an idea is going to form. “I have no clue.”
“All you have to do is go get her,” Ethel informs me, and she’s right.
“Maverick!” I yell.
“Relax, we have him. I’ll call one of the girls to watch him.” Dori stands.
; I grab my keys, my wallet and my phone, stuffing them into my pockets.
“Come here first,” Dori says. I walk over to her, and she hugs me tightly. “Welcome to the family.”
Stepping back, I’m still confused by what transpired in the short time they’ve been here, but my mind is set on getting to Phoenix as fast as I can.
Thirty-Six
Phoenix
I wish Jannie would have told me the movie was Maggie Cooperton’s movie. The man I love’s ex-wife. I might not have agreed to it.
But I didn’t know, so I stand in the back of a promo night with exclusive invites, waiting for my time to sing. I never even knew they had these but being asked to perform the song that’s suddenly on everyone’s television in a movie trailer is nice.
It would be spectacular if I didn’t have to think of Griffin every time I sing the lyrics about finding love in the most unusual of places. About disappearing from your life and finding a love that intoxicates you. About losing that love. Living without that love. At the time he wrote the song, I felt the lyrics because I felt the heartbreak I would feel if I lost him. But after singing them so many times, I’ve realized he wrote the lyrics for how I would feel. After he left me on an LA sidewalk in broad daylight.
The first time I figured it out, I was so angry. I wanted to call him up and tell him off. Tell him he’s an asshole and I never want to see him again. Then… I wanted to thank him because as the words slip from my lips, there’s truth to them. I feel a deep connection to the words, and it produces a more powerful song. Griffin Thorne is truly a genius. A stupid genius, but a genius.
“Phoenix, right?” Maggie Cooperton peers backstage, her elaborate cocktail dress showing off her amazing figure. Her hair is perfect. Her makeup flawless. Why did Griffin divorce her again? Oh yeah, she cheated.
“Yes.” I smile politely because she’s the actress starring in the movie that my very first song will premiere in.
“Griffin’s Phoenix, right?” She steps closer. She might be the most beautiful woman I have ever been this close to.
“Yes.”
I want to ask her how much she knows. Are the rumors true? Are they back together? Is that why she’s seeking me out? As some tit for tat? Then it all rushes forward. He could be out there past the black curtain. He could hear and watch and criticize me singing.
“I had to meet the woman who roped Griffin. I mean, so few of us have done the job.”
I smile. Truthfully, I didn’t think it was that hard of a feat.
“You made the right decision though. Us women have to let our careers take the reins because no man will step back for us.”
I continue to smile politely while my fingernails dig into my palms. I feel lost most days without him and lately putting my career first hasn’t felt that rewarding. It’s as though my world is off axis and I’ll never again feel normal. How could she leave Maverick, a boy so young and full of life? She barely sees him.
“Was it easy for you?” I ask.
The look she gives me makes me want to crawl under a rock and say sorry for talking. Then she smiles. “It’s never easy, but we have to do what we do if we want to be successful.”
“But isn’t it our choice?”
“Excuse me?” She places her hand over her chest. Each nail is painted to perfection. What must it be like to keep up her appearance all the time?
“I mean, why can’t we dictate when we’ll work, where we’ll work, and what we’ll do? Why can’t a world exist where you can be a mom and a movie star?” I fail to mention that there are actresses who do just that. Sure, they take their kids with them or turn down movies or shows to spend time with their kids, but they make both work.
“I guess it depends what is most important to you. I’m not sure what Griffin told you, but Maverick was a surprise. And Griffin was more than happy to take the reins on raising him so I could pursue my career.”
“Because Maverick was more important than his own,” I say more to myself, a giant lightbulb going off in my head.
“What?”
“Griffin moved out of LA for Maverick. He uprooted his life and gave up his career for his son. Not because of that stupid article. Not because of Cammie Sanchez or Tyler Vaughn. He did it for the most important person in his life—your son.”
She inhales deeply. “He left LA because of rumors. He left because he couldn’t handle the criticism. Because he’s such a perfectionist that someone thinking he’s a sellout hurts him, so he takes his toy and runs away.”
I shake my head. “No. That’s not it.”
“What are you, twenty-two? What the hell do you know about life?”
“He didn’t give me up. He picked Maverick.” My eyes widen and I look around, but just as I’m about to find Jannie, the person in charge approaches.
“You have it wrong,” Maggie says. “Maverick is first priority for both of us, but Griffin left you. I know it might be hard, but Griffin isn’t a man who is supposed to be nailed down.”
“I have to go.” I try to push past the man holding a microphone for me.
“No.” He shoves the microphone into my hands. “You need to sing. The band is set. Let’s go.”
“I’m sorry, I have a plane to catch.”
The guy stares at me. “Your plane can wait the four minutes while you sing this song.”
My shoulders slump.
“I guess Griffin Thorne will have to wait four minutes longer to be told how he feels,” Maggie says behind me.
I turn around to face her with the microphone in my hand. “No. This is me having both. Because I’m going to go out there and sing my song, then I’m going to cut out on the cocktail party, find Griffin, and tell him how much I love him.”
She laughs. Hollow and empty. “Good luck.”
She turns around and disappears through the curtains backstage.
“Are we finally ready?” the man snaps.
“Yes.”
A different man announces me, and I step onto the small makeshift stage, looking forward to getting the song over with. When I’m midway across the stage, I realize there’re no drums, no electric guitar, no bass. It’s just one man with an acoustic guitar.
I smile and he smiles. He nods toward the crowd, but I only want to stare at him. Griffin Thorne, music producer. Griffin Thorne, ex-husband of Margaret Cooperton. Griffin Thorne, father of Maverick Thorne. Griffin Thorne, my boss, my boyfriend, my lover, my everything.
He strums his guitar and I clear my throat to get rid of the large lump that’s resting there.
“Our love lit up my soul and the world as I knew it disappeared…”
I lock eyes with him as I sing the beautiful lyrics he wrote. Words that, after this moment, will never fit us. Because our love is about to be what dreams are made of.
When the song ends, Griffin puts down his guitar, and I run into his arms and cling to him so tightly that he can never slip through my fingers again.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. I shouldn’t have decided for us both.”
I draw back and put my finger to his lips. “Relax. Breathe.”
He smiles.
“Let’s start over,” I say.
“Great idea. I’m Griffin.”
“I’m Phoenix.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“You better before I kiss you and then you’re the hero who waited for the heroine to kiss and—”
My words end with the smash of his lips. Applause commences, and the curtain falls.
I was so wrong. Sometimes you get exactly what you deserve.
Epilogue
Three months later…
Phoenix
“Are you sure about staying home?” Griffin hands me and Maverick the bowl of popcorn and slides under the blankets with us.
Maverick clears his throat and I dump some of the popcorn into his bowl. No need for all of us to get sick.
/> “My date got sick. It’s a great excuse.”
We both look to Maverick who has a stash of Kleenex next to him.
The video music award show comes back on and we all quiet.
“Stop playing with Grandma,” I tell Maverick and he slides his phone onto the cushion.
Our song is up for Best Music Video from a Film. They speed tracked it by using mostly clips from the film which, luckily for us, we get to see Maggie with my vocals behind her. I don’t truly care if we win or not.
“Here it is.” Griffin turns up the volume.
“It’s Mom.” Maverick points. Maggie was going to be the one to take Maverick. It was going to be a surprise, but when he got the fever Thursday night, we decided it was better to cancel.
I’m not sure if my words resonate a little with Maggie or not, but she’s made it up here once a month and took him on vacation for two weeks. I hope for Maverick’s sake, she continues to make him a priority in her life.
“It is.”
“And you’re singing, Phoenix.” He laughs and I join in because it is oddly funny.
Thankfully they go to the next video after only seconds and once this is over the television is off and we’re going to get Maverick to bed and have some alone time together.
We’re in the middle of building a studio because I convinced Griffin that if I can have it all, he can too. So far, he’s only got one artist to work with him—me. Truth be told I take up a lot of his time. But I won’t be the last artist willing to come up to Lake Starlight to work with him. He really is a genius.
“Hey,” I whisper. He turns to me. “Thank you.”
“If you win, this was you. I’m not busting out those vocals.” He kisses me briefly and I linger longer than I should.
“You need to take more credit.”
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you, too.”
“Stop kissing, they’re picking,” Maverick says, and we turn to the screen.