One Distant Summer

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One Distant Summer Page 27

by Serena Clarke


  “Cool guitar, bro,” one of them called.

  He raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement, but kept moving. “Thanks.”

  At number ten’s gate, he stopped, and his mother caught up.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, pressing her hand to her chest.

  He looked at the woman who’d been there for him and Ethan through everything. Who’d cared for them and cared about them, encouraged their dreams and reprimanded them for their misdeeds, and done the work of two parents while their dad put in endless shifts at work. Who’d sat alongside through hours of homework, made a thousand school lunches, put up with loud music and rowdy teenagers, hosted parties, fed hordes of their friends, and always had faith that they were destined for greater things than she could even imagine.

  She’d loved them both equally, but now seemed to miss one of them more than she loved the other. Nothing he’d done had made up for Ethan’s loss, and he knew he never could. But, like some kind of on-the-fly intervention, he knew what he had to do now.

  “Mum,” he said, as gently as he could. “It’s not about you. It’s about finding some kind of peace, for all of us. It’s about letting ourselves forget in one way, but still remembering all the important stuff.”

  She eyed the guitar. “And how are we supposed to do that?”

  “One step at a time,” he said. “Come on.”

  He led the way along the path and up the steps, and knocked on the door. After a moment, Danielle answered.

  “Oh,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning down. “It’s you.”

  Given their last encounter, after Jacinda’s departure, he’d been prepared for this. But he knew he had one ally in the house.

  On cue, Sam came to the door.

  “Liam!” he said. “Sorry I didn’t come to my lesson yesterday. Mum wouldn’t let me.” He sent her a dark glare.

  “That’s okay. You have to do what your mum says, right?” He turned to the side, making room. “This is my mum, Carol.”

  Danielle stepped forward, ignoring Liam as she held out her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Danielle.”

  His mum took her hand, looking flustered. “You too.”

  “And I’m Sam,” Sam informed her. Then he looked at Ethan’s guitar. “Are we having a lesson now?”

  “No. Well, maybe. I forgot the leads, though. And I actually came for a different reason.” He put the amp down, and stood the guitar in front of him as he addressed Sam. “You’re an enthusiast, and that counts for a lot in music. And in life. You’ll never get to meet him, but my brother was a lot like you are now. I think you could be as good a guitarist as he was. He’s not here to use his guitar anymore, so I want you to have it.”

  Sam’s mouth fell open. His freckled cheeks were suddenly pink, his big eyes even huger than usual. “Me?” he squeaked.

  Liam glanced at his mother, standing next to him. Her mouth had also fallen open, but in contrast to Sam, she did not look beside herself with happiness. He watched as the frown line between her brows deepened, and then her lips pressed into a thin line.

  Before she could say anything, he took her hand. It sat rigid in his, and he knew the same tension was gripping her whole body. It had been there since the night Ethan died, inhabiting her like a ghost.

  “She didn’t see your amazing performance on Friday night,” he continued. “But my mum knows that boys and guitars belong together, like Marmite on toast. So now this one is yours.”

  With one hand, he passed Sam the guitar. With the other, he grasped his mother’s hand more firmly, as both comfort and warning. She didn’t say anything.

  Sam took the instrument reverently, his expression rapturous. He held it up for Danielle. “Mum…look,” he said, awe in his voice. When he looked back at Liam, it was obvious that his eyes were bright with tears.

  “This is the best thing that’s ever happened,” he said. “Ev-er.”

  “Don’t forget your manners,” Danielle told him. And her eyes were shining too.

  “Thank you, Liam!” Sam said, breaking into a grin. “This is so cool!”

  Then he sat down right there on the doorstep, his skinny legs sticking out in front of him, and started playing.

  Danielle laughed, wiping a finger under each eye. “Thank you,” she said to Liam. “For everything.” Then she turned to Carol. “He’s been amazing with Sam. I don’t know what we would have done without him.”

  Both women looked at him. In his mother’s eyes, he saw something unexpected—pride. Then a tear slipped down her cheek, and her hand finally closed around his in return. He squeezed back, relieved that she was still with him. But with that gentle pressure, something seemed to break in her. All at once, she collapsed into tears. There on the porch of number ten, within a stone’s throw of the ocean, all her pent-up anguish and loss and memories seemed to escape in an unstoppable flood of great, gulping sobs. She buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders heaved. Without hesitation, Liam gathered her in, and this time there was nothing awkward about the hug.

  “I—I’m s—sorry,” she sobbed.

  “It’s alright,” he said, letting her cry, letting the past flow over them both.

  At their feet, Sam gaped at the sight of a grown-up—a mom, even—weeping like a child. Liam saw Danielle put her hand on Sam’s head, silently letting him know that it was okay, and also to keep quiet. All three of them waited, giving Carol the time she needed.

  After a while, her sobs began to settle, and she lifted her head and wiped her eyes.

  “I really am sorry,” she said, as Danielle handed her a tissue.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she replied. “Truly.”

  Carol gave her nose a resounding blow. “Thank you.”

  “Do you think…would you like to come in?” Danielle offered gently, gesturing inside. “We have tea and snickerdoodles.”

  Sam looked up at Liam. “Will you give me a lesson now?” His mind was obviously back on the important stuff.

  “Sure,” Liam said, in reply to both of them. “If that’s okay with my mum.” He turned to her, unsure if she was up to it.

  “Yes, that’s okay,” she said. “In fact, that would be nice.” Then she smiled at him, and despite her teary eyes and red nose, there was a lightness in her face that he hadn’t seen for a long, long time. “And I think that will be your second lesson for the day,” she added.

  Sam got to his feet. “You were going to teach me A minor,” he reminded Liam.

  Liam gave his mom’s hand one last squeeze. “I was,” he said. “But that’ll cost an extra snickerdoodle.”

  “We have heaps,” Sam said. “I bet Mum will let you have an extra one.”

  He looked hopefully at Danielle, and she nodded. “You know, I think there might be enough. Come on in.”

  On the verge of following his mom through the door, Liam hesitated, and she looked back. “What about Dad?” he asked.

  She dabbed her nose with the tissue, and shook her head. “He’s tried to be a hero all his life. But sooner or later, we all need rescuing…as I realized just now. I’ll take care of him.”

  And she went with Sam into the house, leaving Liam on the doorstep.

  Sooner or later, we all need rescuing. He’d been rescued himself, but his rescuer didn’t think she had a place in his life. He didn’t know if she wanted to be convinced otherwise—or if he even had a place in hers—but he had to find out, one way or another.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Mitchell Dunn had the corner office to beat all corner offices. Big enough to swing not just a cat but an elephant, with a luxurious expanse of pale, plush carpet, a selection of mid-century and antique furnishings clearly put together by an interior decorator, and a view that stretched from the city to the hills.

  Jacinda sat in one of the huge leather armchairs on the other side of his desk, and looked at that view as she waited for him to finish his phone call. Her feet barely touched the floor, and she won
dered if the choice of enormous chairs was deliberate—there was no better way to get the advantage in business, or in life, than to make others feel small.

  She wasn’t going to feel small though. Greg had tried that often enough, and it was exactly what she was here to stand up against—not just for herself, but for anyone else in his orbit. After a night’s sleep to recover from the flight, this was her first stop.

  Mitchell finished up his call and tossed his phone onto the expansive mahogany desk. “We’ve been following your story online,” he said, getting straight to business. “Obviously it needs to be addressed.”

  It was the first time she’d seen him one on one, without A&R people or assistants—and actually, he was smaller than she remembered. She took off the baseball cap she’d worn on the drive there, and ran her fingers through her hair. It had grown since her home haircut, but the natural color starting to show at the roots was pretty much the same as the brown she’d used to cover her faux blonde.

  “Yeah, Greg called last night,” she said. She didn’t add that she’d ignored his call. And his next call. And the one after that.

  “You’re looking…different,” Mitchell said. “Are you seeing Heather this week, now you’re back?”

  “No,” she said. “I hadn’t planned to.”

  She knew what he was getting at—as the stylist who worked with most of the label’s artists, Heather would throw a fit if she knew that Jacinda had put a box color in her hair. Not to mention her lack of makeup. But, for better or worse, she’d given up hiding behind layers of Mac or Lancôme. A little piece of that barefoot Sweet Breeze Bay girl had come home with her.

  “Oh.” His eyes swept her from head to toe, communicating his thoughts without a word needed. “And what does Todd think about this new look?”

  “It seems likely that Todd and I will be parting company.” She didn’t offer any more details. That was between Hannah and her husband. Soon to be ex-husband.

  Mitchell raised an eyebrow. “I see. But I hear you’re on board for Eli’s tour?”

  She still wasn’t thrilled about Todd and Greg coming up with that, but in the end she’d agreed with Hannah that she shouldn’t throw away the opportunity—not until she was sure about what she wanted to do next. If nothing else, it would be the perfect way to test her new look with an audience, and try out some new material. Plus, she needed something to keep her busy. Something to stop her mind from wandering back across the seas, to a complicated man, in a small bay, in a faraway country.

  She nodded. “Yes, we’re getting together tonight with his team to start planning.”

  “You and Greg?”

  She paused for a moment. “That’s why I’m here. There’s a problem with Greg. He’s been acting inappropriately for a long time…and after my last show, he went too far.”

  She was ready to elaborate, but Mitchell sighed.

  “You’re not the first person to mention this.”

  “You knew?”

  He leaned back in his chair, peaking his fingers together. “You know this business well enough by now. Greg gets things done. He plays the game. Do you think you would have come this far without him?”

  A hot point of anger concentrated in her chest as his words sank in. “Well, I’m not playing his game anymore. If the label still wants me after the fallout from Lainey’s interview—”

  “Oh, we still want you,” he said, interrupting her. “In fact, we think you just upped your currency.”

  She frowned. “In what way?”

  “You just got a whole lot more interesting,” he said. “And we want to capitalize on that. We want you out there doing press and kicking ass.”

  She shook her head. “That’s pretty much the opposite of what I want to do.”

  “Cin.” His mouth twisted into a smile. “In this world, everything plays into your brand. It’s entertainment. And right now, people are extra entertained by your scandal. It’s tragedy, sex, and drama, all the stuff that keeps people engaged. Once you put yourself out there, the personal is always public. And your ‘personal’ just got a whole lot sexier.”

  She forced herself to take a breath before she answered. “I’m not using my personal life—and someone else’s personal life—to build my brand. There are real people involved here. Real people I actually give a damn about. And I’m not making my ‘brand’ sexier.” She made air quotes around the hated word. “And Greg is a deal breaker. If we can’t find a solution, then…”

  “Then what?” His tone dared her to say it.

  “Then I’m out.” She stood up, calm as the water in Sweet Breeze Bay on a still night, despite the fact that she’d just put everything on the line, in the hands of the most powerful man at Altitude Records. But she had no regrets. She’d already considered walking away, and if it came to that, she’d have options. She didn’t know exactly what they might be, right now…but one way or another, she’d make it work.

  “I’ll have to think about that,” Mitchell said, not getting up.

  “Okay,” she replied evenly. “You know where to find me.”

  And she went out, leaving the door open behind her.

  Chapter Forty

  Saturday night in LA, and the Greek was jumping. From her spot in the wings, Jacinda watched Eli Tyler blast through one hit song, and then another, filling the cool night air with music. Every one of the red seats was occupied by an enthusiastic fan, all of them now on their feet. In the hills behind, the scrappy trees were awash with colored lights, and the audience was lit with screens and camera flashes. For Eli’s fans, this one-off night was an event to capture and share, something they could brag about and sigh over for a long time to come.

  There were bigger venues he could have chosen—probably three times as many people would fit at the Hollywood Bowl—but she knew it wasn’t about that. With its storied past, the Greek was the perfect place for an exclusive showcase. Drawing on the Greek’s history, and becoming part of it, was worth more than any head count.

  Although she still had mixed feelings about signing on for the tour, she’d met with Eli and his team that first time determined to follow through. Until she heard otherwise from Mitchell or Greg, she’d just have to assume she still had a label.

  Eli had raised an eyebrow at her new look, then grinned. “Notoriety suits you.”

  She’d scanned her brain for a smart come-back, then decided to go with gracious instead. “Thanks.”

  “I didn’t know you had such a racy past, Cin Scott,” he said. “Then again, maybe the name should have given it away.”

  “I’m going back to Jacinda now,” she said. “And you didn’t know a lot of things about me.” She gave him a level stare that held the weight of their own past. “Just like I didn’t know things about you.”

  He tipped his worn cowboy hat. “Touché.”

  For a few moments, they’d looked at each other, measuring the challenge of what might lie ahead. Being on the road condensed everything into an intensity greater than everyday life, and they had more baggage than the road cases and guitar bags they’d be traveling with. Then he shook his head.

  “I have the feeling I missed out on something, not getting to know you properly,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I was a jackass.”

  She cupped one ear. “I’m sorry, you were what?”

  “A jackass,” he repeated. “Totally.”

  She smothered a smile. “Yeah, you were.”

  He held out his hand. “Looking forward to working with you, Jacinda Prescott.”

  “You too, Eli Tyler.” She took his hand, and they shook on it. And with her hand in his, she felt no remnant of their history. No anger or resentment, no attraction—just the possibilities of what lay ahead.

  “Even if you should be opening for me,” she added.

  He laughed. “One day, I bet.”

  But she didn’t care. She was starting over, in her own way, and whatever happened would happen. She’d shocked Hannah by saying that maybe th
is would be her last tour, before backtracking—the last thing her friend needed was to think she might lose her job as well as her marriage. And Jacinda could only wait and see what would happen with Altitude, too. But she knew that nothing was guaranteed, and she’d do what her heart told her was right.

  Since then, she’d done one thing she knew was right—she’d left Todd, and Hannah had stepped in to look after things in the meantime. And despite Mitchell’s request, she hadn’t done any press—especially not that postponed interview with Lainey Kingsley. She was waiting until after this show, and Eli’s announcement, so there was something other than her Sweet Breeze Bay scandal to talk about.

  She’d successfully avoided talking about it, even if she couldn’t stop thinking about it. But…if she kept on keeping busy, those thoughts might start to fade away.

  That was the plan, anyway. No luck so far.

  Now, as the lead guitarist launched into a solo, Eli glanced Jacinda’s way, and gave her a wink. She had to smile. His charm hadn’t lessened at all—if anything, it was increasing as he matured, the years (and his growing collection of ink) adding a rugged, knowing edge to his looks that only made him more attractive. His screaming fans obviously thought so too.

  Mitchell came up behind her. “He’s a showman,” he said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his designer jeans.

  She watched as Eli tipped back his signature cowboy hat with a cavalier grin, and kicked into the chorus again. “Yeah, he is.”

  They stood side by side for a couple of minutes, watching the performance. Then Mitchell spoke, keeping his eyes on the stage.

  “So, Greg has decided to take a job in a different part of the organization.”

  She felt her eyes widen, but didn’t look away from the stage. “Really?”

  He nodded. “He and I agreed that a more behind-the-scenes opportunity would suit him better. Something less…hands-on.”

  After their meeting, she’d fully expected Mitchell to do absolutely nothing about Greg. But he’d gone ahead and assigned her a different A&R person, who hadn’t pushed back when she’d stood firm about not taking things sexier. She’d been waiting to hear what, if anything, would be done about Greg, and had talked to Hannah about what to do next herself. She hadn’t expected this.

 

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