Racing to Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel

by Selena Laurence

  “Shannon? Baby, what hurts? Can you open your eyes?”

  It takes me a second, but then I do open my eyes, though they feel swollen and heavy.

  “Dez?” My voice is so hoarse I can barely talk.

  I see him looking down at me with so much concern I know something awful must have happened.

  “Jesus, you scared me,” he gasps before pressing his lips to mine and just staying there, fused to me, his breath heavy and rough. When he pulls back his eyes are glassy.

  I open my mouth to ask what’s going on, but he puts a finger against my lips.

  “Just a minute, let me get you some water.”

  He holds a cup of water with a straw in it to my lips and I sip, so grateful for the liquid that soothes my raw throat.

  He sets it back on the nightstand and sits back down on the bed with me. “Okay, now ask me anything.”

  “What happened?”

  His eyes search my face, brows drawn tight. “You wrecked your bike on Highway One.”

  It comes back to me then, the dark road, the headlights of the semi truck coming at me full speed.

  “There was a truck. It missed a turn, and it was coming right at me.”

  “Yeah, from what I’ve heard, you tried to avoid it, and you managed to get as far to the shoulder as you could, but the hillside was there, and you were trapped between it and the truck. God, Shannon, you could have been killed.” He looks physically sick for a moment.

  “But I wasn’t. How bad is it all? My arm hurts a lot, and so does my middle.”

  He strokes my hair as he describes my injuries—a broken arm, internal bleeding from a lacerated liver that the doctors had to operate to repair, and several cuts and stiches other places.

  “But it’s all going to heal,” he finishes. “You were incredibly lucky.”

  I nod. “Who called you?” I ask, confused as to why Dez is here and not my father.

  “Your dad.”

  I frown. Doesn’t seem at all like something he would do.

  Dez must sense my disbelief.

  “He’s out in the waiting room, do you want me to get him?”

  I shake my head. I don’t feel like dealing with Dad right now.

  “Why did you come?” I ask with the last bit of energy I have.

  He shifts and leans closer to me, framing my face with his warm hands.

  “Because you’re everything and I don’t want to be without you anymore.”

  I feel the tears start now. “But I was horrible. The way I ended it…”

  “Shh, shh, baby.” He wipes away the tears and kisses me on the lips again. “We can deal with all of that later. Just know that I’ll be right here when you wake up again.”

  “Dez?” I whisper as I feel my eyes shutting and my mind going hazy again.

  “Yeah? I’m right here.”

  “I love you.”

  “I know, baby. I love you too.”

  And then, in a split second, my world clicks into place, and I fall into a deep sleep knowing that it will all be fine.

  When I wake again Dez isn’t there, but a huge bouquet of wild flowers and a beautiful note are.

  Heard you’re getting out later so I went to get some things ready for you. I’ll be back soon.

  Love, Dez.

  I smile as I look at the flowers, wondering how much pain medication I’m on, because I feel positively giddy.

  “Knock, knock,” a woman says from the door as her head peeks in.

  My nerves tingle from head to toe as I see her alabaster skin and long red hair.

  I have to clear my throat and struggle to sit up more. “Uh, come on in.”

  Cara has always had a strong style, lots of bright colors, scarves, artsy jewelry. But today she’s surprisingly sedate, a dark knit top and skinny jeans, the burgundy scarf around her neck her only accessory.

  She’s carrying a bouquet of peach roses and when she sets them next to the riot of color that Dez got me I can’t help but think how much better he knows me.

  “I’m so glad to see you sitting up,” she gushes, reaching over and adjusting my pillow before she sits in the chair next to my bed. “Are you in a lot of pain?” She looks terribly concerned, but I have to remind myself that she’s an Academy Award-winning actress, so who knows what’s real and what isn’t. Maybe she just wants to practice the role of mother today.

  “They have me on a lot of medications,” I answer. “What are you doing here?”

  Her smile falters. “I wanted to see if you were okay. Your father wasn’t too forthcoming with details.” She pauses, her lips twisting a touch. “But then he never is.”

  “You obviously know,” I say.

  “Yes. He told me about your conversation.”

  I nod, because what do you say to the woman who gave you up and then kept it from you for twenty-seven years?

  “I’m guessing you have questions?”

  “I’m not sure, really. I know you didn’t want a baby. You were busy becoming famous. Is that about right?”

  She sighs. “That’s the simple version, yes, but it’s really more complicated than that.”

  “Explain,” I demand.

  Her hand goes to her throat to touch her scarf, and I see a slight tremor there.

  “I was raised in a working-class home with nine brothers and sisters,” she says. “We were poor, both of our parents worked two jobs apiece to keep us all fed, and it was pretty much survival of the fittest. I was fourteen when my older brother started raping me regularly. It lasted until I graduated from high school and took every penny I’d saved for four years, waitressing at the local truck stop, and ran away to Hollywood.”

  I suck in a breath in horror but she holds out a hand to stop me.

  “None of that now. I’ve been through as much therapy as money can buy, and I’ve dealt with it, but when I got pregnant with you I hadn’t. I was twenty-one years old, and I was still barely scraping by. I didn’t have a great deal of self-respect at that point and I was willing to sleep my way to the top if that’s what was required. I only knew that under no circumstances would I ever go back to my family, back to him.” Her voice is bitter.

  “I liked your father a great deal. He’s one of very few men I slept with in those early days because I liked him rather than because I wanted something from him. I could also see that he was from the kind of home that I had only dreamed about as a kid. So, when he offered to take you and have his mother raise you, I felt like the universe had given me a way to get you what I’d never had. Love, decency, a good home.”

  She looks at me and I see the actress—the celebrity—stripped away, and I’m face to face with Cara, the poor girl whose brother raped her. “I knew I was absolutely incapable of raising a child, Shannon, and I also knew that I could never put myself in a position where I might have to go back to my family. I was terrified that if I took you, your father would forget about us, and I’d be stuck with a baby, no money, and one option—going home.”

  I nod now, because I get it. Whether it’s because I’m her daughter or I’m a woman, or some other cosmic mystery, I get it. For a single mother, finding a way to feed you and a baby can be a dauntless task. Without any guarantee of help from the father, and no family to support you, taking on a baby at twenty-one would scare off most of us. And just like that, all the resentment and the lost hopes and dreams float away, leaving me free for the first time in so long I can’t ever remember feeling this way before.

  “Thank you,” I say softly, reaching for her hand where it rests on the guardrail of my bed. I give it a squeeze and she laces her fingers with mine, refusing to let go. “Why didn’t you tell my father all of that?”

  “I had never told anyone,” she says. “In fact, aside from my various therapists, and my best friend, I’ve never told anyone else.”

  “Do they know about me? The therapists and your friend?”

  She smiles. “Yes, they do. And my friend, he hopes to meet you eventually.”
/>   Her cheeks color, and I realize that her best friend is much more than simply a friend. “If he’s important to you, then yes, I’d like to meet him sometime.”

  “Now that it’s all out, I’d like to know you better myself.” She rushes on before I can answer. “I know I’ll never be a real mother, and I understand if you can’t forgive me, but I’d love to be your friend, and I wanted you to know that I’m here for you—any way or for any reason that you might need me.” She lets go of my hand. “That’s all.”

  “Thank you,” I repeat. “I think I’d like to get to know you better too.”

  She smiles, and I see it, my smile staring back at me, and it hits me in the chest so hard I gasp. I don’t know where Cara and I will end up, but something inside of me is healed when I look into her face and finally know that I have a mother—good, bad, indifferent, at least I have one.

  “I know,” she says quietly when she hears me react. “It’s something—unique—isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I’ll call you, very soon, Shannon. Please take care.”

  After she leaves I close my eyes and just breathe in her scent that lingers in the air of my room. I finally have a mother.

  Dez

  I’m operating on presumption. A hell of a lot of it, but since my approach with Shannon has always been to catch her off-guard, I go with it. Her dad gives me the key to her apartment and I go there, intending to get the place set up for her to recover, but when I see it I know I won’t be bringing her here.

  Because my beautiful put together corporate shark of a woman is the most impossibly sloppy and disorganized housekeeper I’ve ever seen.

  She has an apartment in a mid-rise corporate-looking building, all glass and gray concrete. Her unit is a decent size, two bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen, living room-dining room combo. She has a nice deep balcony as well, overlooking the small pond and park adjacent to the building.

  But that’s where any charm or appeal ends. The walls of her place are a cold white, not a picture or wall hanging in sight. Her furniture is good quality, but gray, black, chrome and glass. I think it might be the furniture that came with the apartment. As cold as furniture can get. In fact, from what I can tell, Shannon only decorates by leaving her crap everywhere. There are bras on the living room sofa, papers piled on all the kitchen counters, shoes stacked under the dining room table, which apparently is also her makeshift desk. A dead plant graces the mantle over the fireplace, and a jacket is hanging off of a bare nail sticking out of the wall behind the front door.

  My dismay grows as I make my way deeper into the place. The guest bedroom is full of boxes—empty boxes that she hasn’t broken down, so they’re simply piled all over the place, a jumble of cardboard. The bathroom counters are covered in hair appliances, open containers of makeup, dirty tissues. And the crowning glory is her bedroom where an enormous mound of laundry sits on her unmade bed, and the window is covered with a sheet—a fitted sheet.

  I sit down on the edge of the laundry-covered bed and laugh. Never in a million years would I have suspected that my girl was such a slob. It’s obvious we’re going to have to hire a cleaning service when she moves in with me. And yeah, I haven’t asked her to move in yet, but that’s beside the point as far as I’m concerned, because I won’t let her push me away again, and I won’t let anyone—especially not her father—come between us. I find a suitcase in her closet, open it up and start tossing in clothes from the pile on the bed. I’m going to bring my girl home, and I’m not letting her out of my sight again.

  When I arrive back at the hospital a few hours later I hear Richard’s voice coming from Shannon’s room. He’s been at the hospital since she was brought in, but he’s stayed away for the most part, hanging out in the waiting rooms, yelling at staff on his cell phone, and generally driving the nurses nuts.

  “Are you sure this is what you want? It’s pretty tough out there on your own these days.”

  “Yes, Dad. I’m sorry, but I think I need to do this. It’s time.”

  “I really am sorry, you know. About Dez. I had no idea that things were serious, I thought you were just having some fun.”

  I lean against the edge of the doorframe so they can see me, but both of them are too engrossed in the conversation to notice.

  “I know, Dad, and if I had been you it would have just been for fun, but if there’s one thing I’m coming to realize it’s that I’m not you. And I’ve tried to be my whole life, but it’s time for me to admit that I’m not. I never will be.”

  “Hi,” I announce as I walk into the room, carrying a shopping bag and a Starbucks cup. I set the cup down on the nightstand and lean in to kiss her on the cheek. Richard clears his throat uncomfortably. He’s not a typical father, but I still think it bothers him to see some guy touching his daughter.

  “The chai is for you,” I say, handing the cup to Shannon. “How are you, Richard?” I turn to him and put out my hand. Shannon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of us.

  “Fine, fine,” he blusters as he shakes my hand. “Are you taking her home?” he asks. “Doctor said she could go at four.”

  I rub her shoulder as I stand next to the bed. “Yeah, I’ve got everything she needs. I’ll take good care of her.” I hold up the shopping bag that’s full of clothes for her to wear home.

  He nods and mutters something about calling her later, and then he’s gone.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  She takes a sip of her chai. “You remembered I like the spicy one and not the sweet one.”

  “Of course,” I tell her, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching her. She’s gotten a lot of her color back, but her hair is a mess and she still has circles under her eyes. “Baby, you haven’t answered me. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she smiles sweetly, “I am. And I have a lot to tell you, including that I just quit my job.”

  “You did.” It’s not a question, because I can see the truth in her eyes.

  I reach out to smooth her hair down, rubbing a knuckle along her cheek as I do. She sighs and leans into my touch, and it makes my heart beat with pure joy.

  “I realized that I love my job, but that doesn’t mean I have to do it for my dad. I think I might want to go out on my own.”

  “I think that’s a great idea. You’re good at what you do, you’ll be a success no matter where you do it.”

  She nods. “It’ll be hard, finding a whole new client roster, but I have enough money saved to last me a few months, so I think I can put something together by then.”

  I wrinkle my brow. “A whole new client roster? Why would you need that?”

  “Well, I could ask clients to come with me, but since it’s my own father’s firm I’m leaving, that feels cheap. I’ll just start over, it’s okay.”

  She takes another sip of her chai and blinks sleepily at me. I can see there are still a few painkillers roaming around in that sexy body.

  “Baby, Rhapsody isn’t going to stay with your dad’s firm when you leave.”

  Her eyes pop open wider. “Of course not, your contract is going to be voided. You guys can go wherever you want.”

  I sigh while I smile and cup her cheek. “Shannon? You’re our manager, we’ll go wherever you do.”

  “Yeah, right. Tell that to Blaze,” she scoffs.

  “Blaze will do whatever I say on this one. We want you for our management. We never wanted anyone else, I was just hurt and didn’t think I could stand to see you day after day if I couldn’t be with you.”

  Her face darkens and she looks down at her lap. “I’m so sorry,” she says quietly. “I don’t know how you can ever forgive me for everything.”

  “Hey.” I put a finger under her chin, forcing her beautiful green orbs to look straight at me. “It’s over. This is our fresh start. Let go of all that other stuff.”

  “Okay,” she says. “But we haven’t cleared it all up.”

  I raise an eyebrow at her, but wait to hear
what she’s going to say.

  “I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, but I swear to you, Dez, I didn’t sleep with him. It was all an act. I thought it was the easiest way to get you to back off, and it was cruel and horrible, and even if you forgive me, I might never forgive myself.”

  She clutches her waist, her eyes pleading and scared, and even though the image of her wrapped in his arms is burned into my memory, I can’t be angry with her.

  “I knew, baby. And as much as it hurt, I forgive you.”

  “How did you know?” Her voice wavers.

  “Tully told me. She didn’t tell me about your dad’s involvement, but she heard me talking to Blaze and couldn’t keep her mouth shut about that part.” I clear my throat. “It was tearing me up, Shannon. Don’t be mad at her, she wouldn’t betray your trust, but it was going to break me.”

  She sniffs, and nervously plays with her necklace that’s back on her neck, covering the stitches that mar her beautiful skin.

  “I’m so sorry. I can’t ever say how sorry.”

  “Shh, shh,” I whisper as I lean in to touch my lips to hers. The current between us is there immediately, like it always is. She makes a small sound deep in her throat and I moan in response. I can’t help but nip at her lips, teasing them open so that I can lick inside her mouth, sucking, tasting, exploring. Because I’ll never get enough of her, never tire of the way she tastes, the little noises she makes when I love her, the heat of her skin, the smell of her hair.

  As my dick joins the party, I know I have to stop. She’s in no condition for anything other than kissing, and even much of that is probably tiring for her.

  I reluctantly pull away, leaning my forehead against hers.

  “I forgive you, baby. Always. I’ll always forgive you.”

  “And I’ll never try to hurt you again,” she promises, her eyes desperate with the promise. I believe her, and kiss her softly again to seal the pact.

  “I brought you some clothes to wear home,” I finally say.

  “You didn’t need to do that. Where in the world did you shop? I want to imagine how you looked shopping for women’s underwear.”