American Diva

by Julia London

  “Hey, Jack,” Joe responded with a wave, and seemed to think nothing of Jack getting on the bus.

  Jack moved cautiously to the back, almost expecting Bonner or Courtney or some other constant presence to hop out of one of the sleeping berths and ask him what he was doing. Lucky him, there was no one on the bus. They were surprisingly and blessedly alone. The bedroom door was open, and with one last look behind him, he stepped across the threshold.

  Audrey was standing at the end of the bed in that cramped little space, Bruno lounging on top of the bed. Her face lit with surprise and delight, but her smile quickly faded as myriad emotions scudded across her face. It seemed an eternity before either of them spoke or moved . . . but then Audrey whispered his name.

  She lunged for Jack at the same moment he caught her by the waist, steadying them as she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, kissing him. He wrapped his arms around her, pressed his face to her hair, breathing her in.

  She cupped his face with her slender hands, nipping at his lips, kissing his face, his eyes. “God, I have missed you,” she said between kisses.

  “Are you alone?” he asked as he twirled her around and pushed her up against the fake paneling, his body responding wildly to her touch.

  “I kicked him out last night,” she said breathlessly as his hands roamed her body, and kissed him again, her tongue in his mouth, her body pressed against his. Jack slipped his hand beneath her blouse and caressed bare skin, moving up, to the perfect mound of her breast.

  “I’ve been going crazy, wanting to touch you,” he growled. “I see you on that stage and all I can think about is being inside you again.”

  Audrey moaned and kissed him again. Jack’s hand moved lithely over every curve, palming her breasts, and then down, to the apex of the legs, cupping her through her jeans.

  She gasped against his mouth; he pushed against the fabric, and she twisted her head away from him. “No,” she said roughly. “I can’t.”

  “No one is coming,” he said low. “It’s early yet—we’ve got time.”

  “But I promised . . .”

  Jack stilled, his mouth in her hair. “What do you mean, you promised?”

  “I promised him,” she said weakly.

  Jack blinked. He pressed his hands to the panelling, effectively pinning her against the wall as he stooped down to look her in the eye. “You promised him what?”

  “That I wouldn’t see you until he and I talked—”

  “Oh God—”

  “I had to,” she said frantically, seeing Jack’s look. “Come on, Jack, give me a break here—this is a lot harder than I thought!”

  “It doesn’t seem too hard if you are promising him you’ll stay away from me,” he said as he struggled to see the situation from her viewpoint. “Don’t get me wrong, Audrey—I hate that this is so hard for you. But it will be over before you know it, and you don’t need to . . . to promise him anything.”

  She sighed heavily. “The guilt is suffocating. I just can’t seem to think straight.”

  Jack felt his gut sink again and straightened up, dropping his hands. “What have you told him?”

  “I don’t know, to be honest,” she said as she sank onto the edge of the bed.

  Breathe, Jack told himself. Breathe. “You don’t know?”

  “I mean yes, I told him I was in love with you—” She sighed again. “Actually, he’d figured out we’d been together. And as you might expect, he didn’t take it very well. I told him that I was in love with you, I never meant for it to happen, but it did, and . . . and he thinks he should have a chance to redeem himself.”

  “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Jack asked quickly. “I thought you and I had crossed some sort of line here.”

  “Right. I know . . . but . . .”

  “But?”

  She looked up at him, her gaze pleading for understanding. “But . . . I’ve been with Lucas a long time, and he’s done a lot for me—”

  “Audrey, wake up! Don’t let him hold that over your head,” Jack said, squatting down next to her. “He wants you to feel guilty because he needs you too badly.”

  “I think he is saying it because he believes it. We’ve been together a long time, Jack. It’s very hard—for both of us—to just throw that all away. I owe him some respect, I owe him an explanation, and I owe him the chance to discuss it. It’s not like he did anything wrong. I’m the one who broke the commitment.” She winced when she said it, as if it was painful to mention.

  “Audrey—”

  “And I think he’s right. I can’t ignore all that he has done for me.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, feeling a little desperate as he took her hand in his. “What are you saying? You’re going to give him the chance? You have to realize that Bonner has a lot to lose if you call it off, and he’s going to fight like a dog to protect what he’s got with you.”

  She groaned, pulled her hand from his, and buried her face in her hands.

  Jack earnestly squeezed her knee. “Think about it, Audrey. He doesn’t have a prayer of making it without you, because he doesn’t have the talent. There’d be no record deal, no slot as an opener. Have you ever noticed that every time you end up in a tabloid, it’s usually someplace with Bonner? Someplace he suggested you go? He is using you to put his name out there. He’s like Kevin to Britney—if you go away, he slides into obscurity.”

  “That’s not true,” she said, dropping her hands from her face with a frown.

  “Like hell it isn’t. He knows if you go, so does the boat to fame.”

  “Don’t you think it’s possible that he really loves me and doesn’t want our relationship to end because of that?” she asked irritably.

  “Of course I do. I know he loves you—he’d be a fool not to love you. But he’s got a lot to lose besides you.”

  “Jack!” she said, and stood up, walking around the edge of the bed in that small space. “What else is new? Everyone around me is on the boat to fame. It’s not just Lucas—it’s the band, it’s Courtney, it’s the roadies, it’s even Mitzi. It’s even you if you think about it.”

  “Me?” he asked, surprised, straightening to his full height. “I’m not looking for fame!”

  “Not the same sort of fame, but you’re using me to get what you want.”

  Jack blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Your flight school,” she said. “You are on this tour to make money for your flight school. We both know you couldn’t make the kind of money you need with TA. But you can make it with me.”

  She might as well have kicked him in the kneecaps. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, I’m not kidding! It’s true, isn’t it? Oh don’t look like that—I don’t care about that. I’m trying to make a point. I’m just doing it badly.”

  “I care about that. If you think I am here with you now in the middle of this mess for money, then I won’t take a goddamn dime. And just so we both are clear,” he said, moving closer to her, slipping his finger under her chin and forcing her to look up, “it’s not as if I forced you into this mess.”

  “Oh for God’s sake, don’t go off the deep end. I am just trying to make you understand that everyone who comes near me is into me for some other reason besides just me,” she said. “And Lucas . . . Lucas was there at a time when no one was into me for any other reason but me, and I feel like I owe him.”

  Jack’s frown deepened; Audrey whirled away from him. “Help me out here, Jack. I don’t want to be with Lucas anymore. I want to be with you. But I want to end it fairly with him and what we did wasn’t fair.”

  There were so many things he wanted to say, so many thoughts in his head, none of them particularly productive and all of them rooted in love and disgust and emotions he couldn’t even name, emotions so strong he felt like he was drowning in them. He shoved a hand through his hair, put his hands on his hips. “Life isn’t always fair, Audrey. Maybe if I ca
me with you to talk to him,” he said, thinking out loud.

  She sighed and looked heavenward for a moment. “I just need a little space to handle this. When we get to Little Rock, I will speak to Lucas and figure out how I am going to finish out the tour, and then . . . then you and I can see where we’re going.”

  She looked up at him with desperate hope in her eyes. He didn’t like what she was saying, and he damn sure didn’t agree with her. But he had no choice. She was caught in the middle. “We’re not going, starlight. We’ve already gone.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “Please help me, Jack.”

  He swallowed down a lump of galling disappointment, hating himself for having put his heart on the line with her like he had. He should have trusted his instincts, should have left well enough alone.

  “Jack,” she said, her voice soft and pleading. She stepped forward, put her hands on his shoulders. “I love you. I love you. But I have to end something that took a long time to build. I am breaking up with a man I thought I was going to marry one day.”

  That suggestion made him shudder with revulsion, but he forced himself to consider it from her viewpoint again, and he finally, reluctantly, nodded. “Little Rock?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “Cross my heart.”

  He cupped her jaw and leaned down to kiss her. He couldn’t help that he kissed her like he’d never see her again—part of him felt that way.

  And then he walked out of the cracker box room and off that bus without another word, afraid of what he might say if he opened his mouth.

  Joe was still standing where he’d left him, his arms crossed as he watched a crowd gather around the doors of the hotel, hoping for a glimpse of Audrey. When he saw Jack, he grinned. “Told them she hadn’t come out yet,” he said.

  “Good work. You might want to step inside and tell her not to come out now,” he suggested. “I’ll wait here.”

  Joe stepped onto the bus to do just that.

  As Jack stood outside, waiting and watching the crowd, his thoughts rushing through his head, he noticed Rich standing off to one side, one foot braced against the wall, smoking a cigarette. He didn’t know Rich smoked.

  Come to think of it, of all the people on this tour, he knew the least about Rich, and wondered what other habits Rich had that might surprise him.

  Twenty-eight

  They arrived in Little Rock a whole lot sooner than Audrey thought would be possible, which distressed her to no end, for she still hadn’t figured out how to extract herself from one overly attentive Lucas. The drive had been excruciating—he wouldn’t leave her for a moment and was so solicitous of her that she wanted to scream.

  They arrived at the Peabody Hotel about three that afternoon, and Lucas had already arranged to have a car waiting for them. He gave Bruno to a pouting Courtney, and opened the door for Audrey. From the corner of her eye, she could see Jack standing off to one side, watching them, along with a dozen or more people who had gathered, shouting out her name as Lucas helped her into the car.

  “Why don’t we just go inside?” Audrey asked.

  Lucas started the car as he frowned at Audrey. “Are you kidding? There’s no privacy in there. I told Courtney to get everyone booked in and get your room ready for you.”

  “I don’t want to be gone long,” Audrey said, feeling weird about this. “I’ve got some work to do—”

  “You don’t need to work. We’ve got two dozen people along for the ride to do all the work.”

  “I mean write songs—”

  “Which reminds me,” he said, looking very thoughtful as they pulled out of the big drive in front of the Peabody. “I talked to the label folks this afternoon. They’re not exactly digging the new songs you sent them.”

  “What?” Audrey cried. “I love those songs!” It had been a battle with the record label from the moment she signed—they wanted more pop and she wanted more of her old songs.

  “I know you do,” he said, and gave her a reassuring smile. “And I told them, it’s non-negotiable. But after some discussion, I think we can work a deal where we do a little more of what they are looking for and then you can add a couple of songs you like. I secured their agreement we would work this out so that everyone was happy.”

  “Thank God,” Audrey said.

  “So tell me,” Lucas said casually, “do you think your lover could negotiate with the label on your behalf?”

  She slowly turned and looked at him in disbelief, wondering if her label rep had really even called, or if Lucas had manufactured the crisis to make himself some sort of hero in her eyes.

  He glanced at her. “Well?”

  “I never once considered it,” she said. “I thought I would do my own talking for a change.”

  “You’d be the only huge music star to do it, then,” he scoffed. “You’ve got a business manager, a talent manager, and a personal manager. Don’t you think you have them for a reason?”

  “I know why I have them, Lucas,” she said, although that was a partial lie. To avoid conflict, she had always just agreed when he argued they hire this person or that person. “But I am ready to take control of my own career.”

  Lucas suddenly turned into the parking lot of a large public park. “Is that why we are going through this right now?” he asked. “Because you are ready to take on more of the management of your career? If that’s it, why didn’t you just say so?”

  “I did.”

  “No you didn’t. You might have complained once or twice, but you never once approached me in all seriousness and asked for some management control.”

  “And neither did you ever approach me and ask for management control. You just took it.”

  “Like I said, if that is what’s bothering you, let’s fix it.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Come on, Audrey,” he said with a sneer. “Don’t throw everything we are away just because you got laid.”

  He was trying to humiliate her, and it was working. “God, Lucas,” she said with disgust, and threw open the car door, got out, and began walking across the park. Lucas was quickly beside her, his hand on her arm. “Slow down.”

  “I don’t want to slow down!”

  “Audrey, come on. There are a lot of people in this park.”

  There were quite a lot of people in the park, a lot more than she would have thought, given that it was almost four on a very hot afternoon. She was instantly suspicious. “Did you plan this, Lucas?”

  “Plan what?”

  “This,” she said, gesturing wildly at the park. “Are photographers going to leap out of the bushes and ambush us?”

  “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

  “You know what I am talking about,” she said angrily, and walked on, seeking shade.

  “Audrey,” he said, stepping under the cypress tree where Audrey had sought refuge, “we are fighting about nothing, really. You know how much I love you, right?”

  “That’s one problem. I don’t know if you really love me or my fame.”

  “Ohmigod. If you don’t know it by now, I don’t know how I can convince you. It’s amazing to me that the last eight years of our life mean nothing to you! You never told me anything was wrong. I’m not a mind reader, so how could I know you were so unhappy?”

  “How could you not?” she countered. “Every time I tried to speak to you about it, you would put me off, act like I was bothering you somehow. You love my career, Lucas. Not me.”

  “That’s not true,” he said, and it went downhill from there.

  They argued for what seemed hours, Lucas reviewing everything he had ever done for her, Audrey growing more determined as he spoke. He had done quite a lot for her, it was true, but he almost made it sound as if she were incapable of having made it on her own. Or that without him, she would still be playing gin joints in Austin.

  She tried to explain to him that she had begun to fall out of love with him at least two years ago and that, try as she might, s
he couldn’t seem to get back the feelings she’d once had for him. She told him frankly that she was beginning to resent him more than she liked him.

  Lucas seemed genuinely shocked by such admissions. And worse, he seemed genuinely wounded. “I never knew,” he said, over and over again. “I never knew.”

  When it was obvious there was no resolution, and the heat was beginning to wear on her, Audrey asked that they return to the hotel. They walked in silence back to the rental car. Lucas started up the car, but instead of putting it into gear, he suddenly turned to Audrey. He looked tortured, his face twisted with pain. “I’ll do whatever you want,” he said, sounding almost desperate.

  “No, don’t—”

  “You want a new manager?” he continued, undeterred. “Done. You want me to sleep in another room? Done. Just . . . just don’t dump me, Audrey. I love you. I love you more than you can ever know, and I can’t lose you.”

  “Please don’t do this,” she pleaded with him.

  “Don’t beg you to stay with me?” he asked frantically, tears welling in his eyes. “Don’t beg you to give me another chance? What am I supposed to do? I thought you were the woman I would spend the rest of my life with, and now I am suddenly out on my ass. Please don’t do that to me. At least give me a chance to get on my feet—”

  “I’m not going to kick you off the tour, if that is what you are worried about.”

  “I am talking about out of your life!” he cried. “Don’t you understand?” he asked as tears began to slip from his eyes. “Without you, I am nothing! I know it’s true! I know that without you, I would be playing second-rate clubs in Austin. But for the first time in my life, I have a chance! I have a chance to make something of myself, and if you drop me now, I will never make it. Please, Audrey. I will do whatever it takes. I will do anything you want,” he said, and leaned over the console, sobbing.

  “Ohmigod,” she whispered, and put her hand to his head. “Oh, Lucas.”

  And just like that, her heart twisted around again. She didn’t love him any longer and she would never be with him, but neither could she push him off the ledge. By the time the day breezes had begun to die down, and the bugs were coming out, Audrey felt no closer to resolution than before.