by Lelly Hughes
“Where are we going? What hospital are Rusty and Gabe in?”
“I don’t know the name,” Van mutters as he looks at his phone. I’m half tempted to pull it out of his hands so I can call Levi, but giving Van his number is the last thing I want.
Turn after turn, my concern grows the farther we drive into the dessert. I rack my brain trying to come up with what hospital would be out here that would have a trauma unit. Fact is I can’t come up with a single one.
I slowly pull my sunglasses up and glare at Van. He looks away, unable to meet my gaze. “Where are we going?”
He looks out the window, and without looking at me says, “You’ll find out.”
Sure as the sky is blue, the car turns and pulls into a long driveway. Outside looms a Spanish style building. People are walking around, all wearing white coats. Nothing but fear takes over my body as images of me being held here against my will flash through my mind.
I contemplate running as soon as I get out of the car, but can’t recall a single building from the last five miles of the drive. It’s too hot for me to run and with no cell phone, I’m stuck.
My door opens, and a young man reaches for my hand. “Welcome to Paradise Springs, Mrs. Phillips.”
“What is this place?”
“It’s a spa,” he says. “Your rest and relaxation are waiting for you just beyond those doors.”
Turning, I look through the sliding glass doors, wondering what the hell Van has gotten me into to. “Am I able to leave whenever I want too?”
The poor man looks confused, but nods. “Yes, of course.”
I still don’t believe him though until I see Gabe and Rusty coming toward me. They’re smiling, and more importantly, they’re alive and seemingly uninjured. If they were in an accident, it was a fender bender, meaning there was no reason for me to come home. It hits me like a ton of bricks. I’ve been duped. I’ve been set up and brought back to California against by own will.
Van gets out of the limo and hugs Rusty and Gabe. I angle my head, waiting for Darian to show his face so I can beat the shit out of him. I know he’s best friends with Van, but if he had any part in this set-up, I’m going to kill him. Our mother will understand because blood is thicker than the lying-cheating-asshole-best-friend-who-cheated-on-your-sister guy.
“Hello, Zara.”
It takes me a minute to recognize the face of our manager at the record label, Caleb Gilbert, and standing next to him is my agent, Ryan Greene, who does not look pleased.
The car pulls away, leaving me standing in the middle of the driveway, almost as if I’m in a standoff. Van, Rusty, Gabe, and Caleb are all staring at me, while Ryan is focused on the ground.
“What’s going on?”
“We have business to discuss,” Caleb says, motioning for me to follow everyone inside. Reluctantly, I pick up my bag and start to follow until I reach Ryan.
“You’re in on this?” I ask. What this is, I don’t even know, but I have a feeling this is some backward attempt at an intervention. You know, because I’m the one screwing up the dynamics of the band.
“Sorry, Z.”
My throat tightens, and my heart starts racing as I walk into the small conference room. The sight of food makes my stomach growl, but I can’t eat anything. The thought of food makes me want to hurl right now.
I take the lone seat at the end of the table, and the people I once considered my family surround me, except Darian. I look at Rusty and Gabe and shake my head. “I thought you were seriously hurt. You lied to me.” Neither of them say anything, nor do they show any remorse.
Caleb clears his throat and folds his hands. “Zara, we know you’re going through a rough time, but this…” he waves his hand dismissively. “Whatever it is that you have going on with this guy… what’s his name,” he says as he shuffles through some papers. “Oh yes, Levi Austin. It stops now.”
“Excuse me?”
“Zara, what Caleb is trying to say is that your image is taking a beating right now and that is affecting his ability to market Reverend Sister,” Ryan says with a half-assed smile.
“Who I date is none of the label’s business.”
“It is when the label suffers,” Caleb says. “When we signed you, we signed you with the understanding that you were with Van.” He bobbles his head back and forth as if he’s speaking to a four-year-old.
“So you’re saying that I have to be with Van, even though he’s fucking the entire population of Los Angeles, and who knows where else because the label is suffering?”
Caleb sighs.
“You do realize that if he had kept his dick in his pants where it belonged, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, and yet, you’re coming after me because I moved on?”
“It’s not about you moving on, Zara. It’s about who you moved on with. You have an image, and that image screams danger. It’s punk rock, not Holly Homemaker or whatever it is you’ve been doing in Hicksville.”
“Z, what Caleb is saying--”
“Don’t fucking talk to me, Rusty. I thought you were dying. You and Gabe are no better than Van.” Years of friendship, down the drain. “Where’s my brother?”
Van clears his throat. “He doesn’t know we’re here.”
“And why’s that, Van?
Van shakes his head, refusing to answer because he knows that Darian won’t stand for this. When it comes down to it, Darian will always side with me. “That’s what I thought.”
Caleb slides a paper to Ryan, who pushes it toward me. “You have two choices, Zara. End the relationship with the crooner or relinquish your stake in Reverend Sister.”
This time I don’t hold back the tears. People, who have nothing to do with the creation of my band, are forcing me to choose between the man I love and the band that I created with my brother in our garage.
I look at everyone in the room. Their eyes are downcast, looking at the table, all except Van’s. He’s leaning back in his chair, staring at me, waiting to see what move I’m going to make.
Chapter 34
Levi
My phone weighs heavily in my hand as I look at the picture of the woman I love, holding hands with the man she has sworn to be done with.
VAN AND ZARA PHILLIPS SNEAK AWAY
THE PHILLIPS ARE BACK TOGETHER
WITH A BABY COMING VAN AND ZARA PHILLIPS
REKINDLE ROMANCE
Each headline, worse than the previous, and I can’t look away from any of them despite the people that keep calling. I know that is why Lori’s face keeps lighting up my phone, and when I don’t answer, Chet calls. Every press of decline button brings another wave of intrusion.
I’m tempted to answer just one call, to hear what my friends have to say. Are they going to tell me that I need to stay off the web? Are they going to console me or ask me if I knew? Will they bash her? I already know how they feel about her, so why put myself through the heartache of hearing my friends tell me that this is a good thing?
It’s not. There isn’t anything good about this. Not for my daughters, and definitely not for me. I’m in love with Zara, and the girls… they love her too. What makes this worse is that Stormy is the one who found the first image of Zara and Van together. As much as I can shelter Willow from the web, I can’t with Stormy. Teens are social media driven, and Zara knew this.
Thinking that Zara planned this sends my stomach into my throat because I know that didn’t happen. She wouldn’t have left here in a rush, lying to me about her friends being in an accident. No, something happened when she got to California, but what?
That is what I ask myself as I pace my room, racking my brain on what transpired from the time I dropped her off at the airport to the time she texted me that she had landed. Why would she text me if she had planned to see Van at all?
“She wouldn’t,” I mutter out loud. Zara is not evil, she’s far from malicious and wouldn’t hurt me the way Van hurt her.
The soft knock on my bedroom door catches m
e off guard. “Come in,” I say.
“Daddy?” The broken voice of my teenage daughter calls out from behind me. I’m afraid to turn around, to see her tears, but have no choice. Stormy stands in my doorway, looking much like she did the day I had to tell her that her mother died. I open my arms as an invite to come to me, and she does, clutching onto me for dear life. Tears that I have fought since I saw the first headline are now spilling over and wetting the top of her hair.
“Does Willow know?”
Stormy shakes her head against my chest. “I hid her iPad.”
“Thank you.”
My sweet daughter who has gone through so much in these past couple of months looks up at me with her own tear-stained eyes. “You need to go get her, Daddy. You need to go after Zara.”
As much as I try to prevent it, I can’t help but frown. Stormy steps out of my arms and stares me down. “Listen to me,” she says as if she’s suddenly become the adult. “Everything was fine yesterday. You don’t leave someone really happy to go back to someone that makes you really sad. He makes her sad, and when she’s with you, she’s happy.”
“People change, Stormy.”
“Not like this. I remember from the video shoot. The director kept telling Zara to look at Van when she was singing, and she refused. All their other videos show them together or her singing to him, except this new one. I’m telling you, Zara loves you. She loves us and wouldn’t do this.”
As if on cue, my phone rings. “It’s Barbara.” I show the phone to Stormy for some unknown reason, only to have her snatch it out of my hand.
“Aunt Barbara, Daddy needs a flight to wherever Zara is. He has to go after her.”
Unfortunately, neither of us hears Barbara’s reply because I’m pulling the phone away from Stormy. She glares at me, her eyes determined to burn holes into me.
“Hello?”
“I’m sure you know why I’m calling,” she says.
“I do.”
“With that said, I agree with Stormy. This… it all seems odd. I spent time with Zara; she asked me to represent her because she felt her current or former, depending on how you look at it, is biased toward her ex. I’ve also spoken with Zara’s lawyer about her divorce proceedings. The judge was waiting to sign off on the decree as soon as Van was released from rehab. Somehow I doubt he was able to con her into a romantic getaway considering he left rehab an hour before her plane landed.”
My mouth opens to reply, but no words come out. I’m at a loss, not sure what I’m supposed to say. All this time, I thought Barbara was against anything that I’ve been building with Zara, yet here she is, telling me to chase the girl.
“Levi, I can hear you breathing.”
“Right. I’m here.”
“I took the liberty of booking a chartered flight. I’m going with you, and so are the girls.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Barbara sighs. “Disneyland is having a two for one special on tickets,” she says, even though I know she’s lying. “Listen, we’re going because we’re your family, and I really am taking the girls to Disneyland. They need it, and you’ll be worried about them while you’re trying to be all knight in shining armor.”
I pull the phone away from my ear. “Do you want to go to Disneyland tomorrow?”
Stormy’s eyes go wide, and she nods frantically. “Can we stay in a hotel there and not at the house?”
“Sure, if that’s what you want.”
“Will you bring Zara home to us?”
Her words hit me hard, but I nod. “I will.” I wait for her to run out of my room and for the screaming to stop before I put the phone back to my ear. “We’ll meet you at the airport.”
“That’s my boy!” Barbara hangs up before I have a chance to say anything. In the other room, Stormy and Willow are happily yelling, and I find myself quickly emptying my drawers so I can pack and be ready to go.
No sooner do I have my travel bag zipped, Willow attacks me from behind. “Is this why we couldn’t bring the dogs home yesterday?”
“No,” I tell her, shaking my head, but smiling. “They have to run a background check before they let the dogs leave the shelter, but we’ll be back in time to pick them up and bring them home.”
“Phew,” she says as she wipes her hand across her forehead. “I’m all about seeing Mickey, but didn’t want to leave the dogs.” Willow all but runs out of my room, hollering at her sister that we’re in the clear.
After Chet left, the girls and I went down to the shelter. It was easy to see why Stormy asked for two dogs. She had fallen in love with an old timer that was dropped off at the shelter in the middle of the night, while Willow wanted a pup. We paid to adopt both.
Now I get why a background check needs to be done, but since my life is played out in front of the media, everyone knows that I’m a stand-up guy. Everyone, that is, except the hard-nosed clerk at the shelter who didn’t even bat an eyelash when the girls and I walked in. No, she didn’t care that Levi Austin was coming to the shelter to adopt an animal. Didn’t even faze her.
While I was irritated with the policy, I’m thankful though because the last thing I would want to do is leave the dogs behind for June to take care of or ask my parents to watch them when they just got here.
Leaving my bedroom, I find the girls standing eagerly by the front door. As far as I know, Willow doesn’t have any idea what is actually going on, and I trust Stormy to keep the secret. We pile into my truck, turn the music on and sing our hearts out until we arrive at the airport where Barbara is waiting for us at the private terminal.
Once our bags are checked, and we’re boarded, I lean my head back against the leather seat and close my eyes. The idle chatter around me is heartwarming and lulls me to sleep.
I jerk awake when the plane touches down. I’m a bit disorientated and not sure of the time. Not that it’s going to matter. I’m heading straight to the resort to get to the bottom of… well, everything.
Barbara takes the girls in one car, while I get into another. Willow looks confused, and I tell her that I have some business to take care of, but will meet them at the hotel later. I’m tired but focused on the road ahead as I drive into the desert, wondering what’s going to happen. I don’t have much of a case to plead. Van and Zara have a history, where we have weeks upon weeks of playing house. Deep down, I question whether I even stand a chance and fear that she’s going to tell me that it’s over. I don’t know what I’ll do, other than tuck my tail and drive to the happiest place on earth.
The valet greets me as soon as I put the car in park. The somewhat muted overhead lights give off a soft, romantic glow. Dread fills the pit of my stomach as I walk in the Spanish style resort.
“Can I help you?” the woman behind the counter says, smiling brightly. She looks as nervous as I do right now.
“I’m looking for a guest, Zara Phillips.”
She types away on her keyboard. “Who can I say is calling?”
“Levi Austin.” I feel as if this is a formality.
“Ms. Phillips, I have a Mr. Austin in the lobby. Yes, ma’am.” The desk clerk hangs up. I’m waiting for her to smile, but she doesn’t, and that pit in my stomach is slowly turning into a crater. “You can have a seat over there,” she says, pointing behind me. “Ms. Phillips will be right down.”
She’ll be down but didn’t ask the receptionist to send me to her room. I sigh and run my hand over my hair. Each step toward the couches is painful, and I opt to wait outside under the stars and the warmth of what’s left over from the sun.
“Levi.” Her voice rips through me like shards of glass. I turn slowly to find the woman I’m head over heels for stalking toward me. Her arms wrap around my waist, and her head buries between my arm and chest.
My reaction is immediate. I pull her as tightly as I can, holding her in the vice grip my arms have become. I refuse to think this is the last time I get to do this with her. It’s minutes later that she’s pulling
away. The look on her face doesn’t match the feelings I have about the hug. She takes my hand and leads me around the side where there’s a patio, lit by lanterns, and casting a romantic glow.
We sit, across from each other, and I instantly want to leave. “What’s goin' on, Zara?” I reach for her hands, as she gives them to me willingly. “I’m really confused here.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was ambushed. After I texted you, my phone died so I couldn’t call you and tell you that I needed help.”
“What do you mean?”
Zara shakes her head. “Let me start over. Rusty and Gabe were not in an accident. I got off the plane, and everything went to shit very fast. Van was in the limo. He checked himself out of rehab and just kept talking about giving him a second chance. As soon as we got here, I knew that the accident was a ploy to get me to California, and away from you.”
“So you’re not back together with Van?”
“Hell no!” she says rather loudly. “I want nothing to do with him, at all, which brings me to why I’m here. You see, the guys, not Darian, set this up to corner me. The band's manager from the label and my agent are also here, waiting for me to sign…”
“Sign what?” I ask.
“To sign over my interest in Reverend Sister or sign an affidavit that I will cease all communications with you. The label says you’re bad for my image, that sales are down and it’s because of our relationship.”
I sit back, stunned by this revelation. I’m unable to make eye contact with her right now as the feeling sinks in that we’re done. Her career means the world to her, and I can’t compete with that.
“So, I guess that’s it, huh?”
“I…” she looks at me as tears start to fall.
Epilogue
There’s a soft melody, a chorus of sounds that are drifting through the house. It’s mixed with music, laughter, and nature. I smile at the people gathered in my home right now, waiting for me to make an appearance.