by Julia London
Oh hell, she should have called him! For all she knew, he was off on some TA adventure. Maybe even out of the country.
A plane landed on a strip a football field away from her, and Audrey stood watching it, debating what to do.
“Thanks for bringing Bruno.”
The lusty timbre of his voice startled her, and Audrey whirled around, her hand on her heart. Jack was holding an ecstatically happy Bruno like a football again. He was wearing a black T-shirt that hugged his muscular arms and chest, and a pair of jeans that fit him so well, Audrey was grateful she didn’t drool. He looked better than she remembered, better than she’d hoped.
“How are you?” he asked.
She nodded, not quite able to find her tongue.
His gaze ran over her, gliding over every curve, lingering in all the right places before lifting to her eyes again. “You look good.”
“So do you.”
Jack squatted down to release Bruno, then stood up, hands on hips, waiting for her to speak.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Working hard.”
She nodded. She shouldn’t have come; it was obvious he didn’t want her here. “You don’t seem very surprised to see me.”
“Maybe that’s because I’m a little stunned.” He smiled a little, just a hint of that sexy, heart-melting smile that accompanied her to bed each night. “You want to come in?” he asked.
Thank you, God. “I’d love to.”
He walked to the hangar and fished for a key from his pocket, unlocked it, and raised the door. Inside was a plane in a state of construction—or deconstruction, depending upon one’s view. There were parts and pieces all over the floor.
“Wow,” Audrey said.
“It’s in better shape than it looks,” Jack said. “I’m doing some rewiring right now, and some of it is hard to get to without taking the plane apart.”
Audrey walked into the hangar behind him; Bruno scampered inside, too, sniffing each part.
Jack, however, did not seem in the mood to explain what he was doing, no matter how much Audrey would have liked to have known. He turned around and looked at her. “So . . . why’d you come all the way out here?”
The question jarred her. She had hoped for a coffee, a bit of chatting it up to break the ice. “To see you, obviously,” she said. “I’ve really missed you.”
“Huh,” he said, and turned away, picking up a pair of gloves. “Didn’t look like it on TV. Looked like you were still in lockstep with Bonner.”
“Actually, no,” she said, frowning at him. “It’s over between me and Lucas.”
Jack paused and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Over? Or do you mean you aren’t sleeping with him, but still supporting his half-assed career?”
“Over. I gave him Courtney and my talent manager and told him to figure it out on his own. They’re all gone. And I hired a new business manager—a woman—and a new talent manager, and I am talking with the label right now about the sort of music I want to produce.”
“Personal manager?” he asked.
“Not yet. But I’ve talked to a couple of people.”
“Wow,” Jack said, nodding appreciatively. “You’ve been busy.”
“Yep.” She took a step closer to him. “I have been cleaning up my house.”
He turned to face her fully then, his expression heartbreakingly hopeful. “I’m afraid to ask . . . but does all this housekeeping mean anything for us?”
She knew he would ask it; it was why she had come. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
His expression fell and he glanced uneasily at the floor, nudging Bruno a little with his boot. “Hell, sweet cheeks, you didn’t really need to come all the way out here to tell me that,” he said sheepishly. “I got the message the first time.”
“I still love you, Jack,” she said earnestly. “I know that sounds like a weird thing to say, but I do. I can’t begin to tell you how I have . . . have pined for you. God, I have missed you.” In fact, she ached to touch him, but that didn’t seem fair somehow.
“But I’ve also pined for myself in a way. Up until a few weeks ago, I didn’t know what was real and what was manufactured. I finally figured out that for all of Lucas’s talk of loyalty and how together we would soar higher and farther than apart, that he really kept me exactly where he needed me to be, to suit his own ends. I am flying higher out from under his shadow.”
Jack sighed. “I can’t blame you for wanting to fly solo.”
She paused and pressed a palm to her forehead, wishing she had thought through more carefully what she would say. “You were right about him,” she admitted. “It’s funny how you can be with a person for so long and then suddenly realize they aren’t really there for you. All the publicity and the deals—they were all about Lucas. I discovered that in some of the endorsement contracts I have signed, Lucas gets a large piece, whether I want him to or not. He had me convinced that, without him, I couldn’t make it on my own. I believed that. I never would have believed otherwise until you told me I could do it.”
“You can do it,” Jack said.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding, “I am starting to get that I can. I can handle my family—God save me, but Gail’s new boyfriend wants to break into the music business,” she said with a bit of a smile. “But I can handle that now. And my business, and my music . . . all by myself.”
“So,” Jack said. “You’re flying high.”
She nodded slowly. “I am going to Europe for a month. And then I don’t know what I am going to do.” She took a step closer to him. “And I know it’s too much to ask, I know I am being grossly unfair, but . . . will you wait for me?”
He smiled sadly and touched her face with his fingers. “No, starlight,” he said quietly. “That is unfair. And besides, those deals never work out for one of the people involved. If you want to be with me, I am standing here with open arms. I still love you, too. But if you need to go do your own thing, then you need to let me go, too.”
She had known it would be his answer, but she had to hear it, had to see his face when he set her free. A single tear slid down her cheek, and Jack impulsively reached for her hand. Audrey caught her fingers in his, wrapping them around his.
Her blood was churning; she was being swept away—with grief and relief—and yet she couldn’t let go. Not yet. She moved closer, pressed her free palm to his jaw and stared into his eyes. She could see the same despair she felt, the realization that two paths had not converged.
“I will miss you,” Jack said gruffly. “Just as much as I have missed you every moment of every day since I left the tour.”
“Me, too.”
He turned his face into her palm and kissed it, then let go of her hand. “I wish you the best, sweet cheeks.”
“I know that, too.” She wanted to stand there forever, to just look at him, impress the memory of him on her soul so that she would never forget.
There was nothing left to say. She swiped at the lone tear on her cheek and looked around for Bruno.
“Come on, Bruno,” she said, patting her leg. He trotted over and waited patiently for her to hook him up.
Jack went down on one knee to pet the dog, his big hand covering the small body. “You keep an eye out for her, rat,” Jack said, scratching behind the dog’s ears.
Bruno danced excitedly. Jack smiled warmly at the dog and rose up to his full height again, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Let me hear from you once in a while, okay?”
They both knew she probably wouldn’t, but she nodded all the same. She was incapable of speaking, knowing that if she opened her mouth, nothing would come out but a gut-wrenching sob. So she pressed her lips tightly together and gave him a strange little wave before turning and walking away from him for the last time, leaving her broken heart behind, bloodied and useless.
new beau for audrey?
(Us Weekly) Audrey LaRue and George Clooney were recently spotted d
ining in Milan, Italy, at a popular eatery. A source close to Audrey tells Us Weekly that George bought an expensive little Cartier bauble for her, but that they are “just friends.” But the two looked very chummy at a houseboat party on Lake Como the following weekend. “Absolutely false,” says LaRue’s rep. Clooney’s reps could not be reached.
Thirty-two
Eli and Jack flew into New York a couple of months later to catch the Yankees’ last series for the season with the Mets and to catch up with Parker.
They were lunching at a Soho bistro—or rather, Parker was lunching with his fiancée, Kelly O’Shay, whom he would marry in the off-season, over the phone while Jack and Eli watched him.
“China pattern?” Parker scoffed. “Kelly, darlin’—whatever you want is fine. You decide—huh? No, I am not advocating responsibility, I am trying to tell you in a polite way that we can eat off paper plates for all I care . . . No, I don’t mean it literally, I just—”
He sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. “Kelly, I have to go. Jack and Eli are starving. Okay, later.” He hung up the phone and looked at Jack and Eli. “Shoot me. Seriously, one of you just shoot me. You would not believe how much crap goes into a wedding,” he said, shaking his head. “She calls me five times a day to ask if I want pink flowers or blue candles or what I want the invitations to say.”
Jack and Eli exchanged a look.
“What?” Parker demanded. “You think you’re going to escape it? Whatever you may think, Eli, I can tell you right now Marnie has it all planned out. One day you will wake up and she’ll hand you the tux and say, ‘Be at the church in five.’ ”
Jack laughed, but Eli shook his head.
“She gave me a little more warning than that.” He glanced at Parker with a smile. “Looks like we’ll both be January brides, Park.”
“Awesome!” Parker said, extending his hand.
Jack did, too, clapping Eli on the back. “The only thing that surprises me is that you held out as long as you did. Three years, now?”
“It wasn’t me,” Eli said. “I wanted to marry that ornery cuss the moment I came back from Australia. She’s the foot-dragger. ‘I’ve got goals I want to achieve, and they don’t include baby-sitting you,’ ” he mimicked with a fond smile. “But she came to her senses,” he added with a wink. “Especially when I told her I was going to start seeing other women if she didn’t. Nothing like the threat of another woman to snap them out of it.”
“So . . . what about you, Jackie?” Parker asked. “Got your eye on anyone?”
“Me?” Jack laughed. “Yep. A Cessna. She’s a beauty.”
“Yeah, well, better not let Paige find out. She’s making noises about hooking you up with a friend in Odessa whose husband died in the oil fields. Some freak accident.”
“Oh man, not again,” Jack said wearily. “Thanks for the warning.” He didn’t know what they were drinking in Texas, but lately, his sisters were hot on the trail to see him married and settled. They’d even come to L.A. a couple of weeks ago and grilled his friends about whom they could set him up with. “You would think they’d have enough to do with the kids and their jobs without worrying about me. I’m fine. I like the casual dating scene. No pressure.”
“Bullshit,” Eli said. “You’re still not over her.”
“Who?” Parker asked.
“Eli, dammit—”
“Audrey LaRue.”
Parker gave a shout of laughter. “The Audrey LaRue?” he asked with a grin for his big brother. “Well, hell, of course. I should have known it when you took that job.”
“Eli doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Jack said irritably, and looked around for the waitress. “Can you get a beer in New York, or what?”
“Like hell I don’t,” Eli said, clearly enjoying himself. “You’ve never been the same since you went on that tour. Good thing your friends are looking out for you, because guess what?”
“I don’t want to guess what. I don’t want to even know what. Parker, stand up and get the waitress’s attention.”
“She’s playing in a Midtown club tonight.”
Every fiber, every muscle in Jack’s body froze. Even his breath. It seemed like minutes passed before he could breathe again and looked at a grinning Eli.
He winked at Jack. “She’s playing in a Midtown club, not too far from the hotel. It’s a charity event to benefit a foundation that helps girls get into music.”
“The Songbird Foundation,” Jack said absently. “It’s tonight?”
“Whoa,” Parker said, squinting at him, his laugh turned to awe. “I’ve never seen you look like this, Jackie. Are you all right?”
“He’s all right,” Eli said congenially. “He’s just in love.”
Jack had no intention of going. He didn’t need to be rejected by the same woman an unprecedented three times. But when Parker sent a car around for them to head out to the game, Eli stopped him at the door. “Jack. Don’t be a goddamn idiot,” he said, then pushed him back inside the room and closed the door behind them. Jack stared at the closed door, knowing every moment he waited was one step closer to the club—the information for which Eli had left on the desk in their room, along with a ticket.
He didn’t want to go; he didn’t even want to see her. Hell, he’d just spent weeks purging her from every pore. But somehow he ended up sitting at a table in back, feeling antsy as the warm-up act stayed on stage too long. It was a trio of young women who had gotten their start, they said, because of funds from Audrey’s Songbird Foundation.
Okay, Jack told himself. It was a noble cause. He’d just get a glimpse of Audrey, hear a couple of tunes, then book. She would never even know he’d come.
And he’d go back to the hotel and throttle Eli.
But when she came on stage, Jack lost all reason. He was mesmerized. Her hair had grown into long silky white waves that hung around her shoulders and framed her face. She wore a flowing, flimsy dress that skirted around her knees and showcased her perfect legs. She walked out holding the hand of a young girl who, like Audrey, carried a guitar.
They each took a seat on two stools. “Thanks for coming out tonight,” Audrey said. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your support. This is Anna,” she said, smiling at the young girl. “She is so talented that she will knock me right off this stage.” She strummed a few chords, then looked at Anna. “Are you ready?”
The girl nodded, and the two of them began to play. They sang three songs, three hauntingly beautiful duets. The crowd erupted with a roar of applause after each one. This wasn’t a big arena like Audrey had been playing, but it sounded almost as big.
Then Anna left the stage and the lights focused on Audrey. “I am going to play a song I wrote about the stupid things we do,” she said, garnering chuckles from the crowd. “I guess the first stupid thing I did was to get fired by my record label. No, no,” she said, when a rumble went through the crowd. “It was a good thing. We had ‘some artistic differences, ’ ” she said, making invisible quotations with her fingers. “They wanted me to do pop, and I wanted to sing songs that I love. But amazingly, that wasn’t the stupid thing.”
The crowd laughed.
“Any of you ever let The One get away?” A couple of people whistled, and Audrey laughed. “Well, I did. He was the perfect man for me, and I did something really stupid. I walked away, and he didn’t stop me. This song is called ‘Don’t Let Me Walk Away.’ ”
Jack hardly even breathed as she sang. His heart was pounding, his palms damp. Every word, every note she sang pierced his heart, took him back to that moment in the hangar.
You stand in the middle of the wreckage I’ve made of our lives,
and you watch me walk away.
Now you know what you never knew before,
and you send me on my way.
Baby, I’ve made mistakes,
but I know what I should have said.
This is my love, it’s not perfect,
just don’t let
me walk away . . .
The melody was brilliant, the words piercing his heart deeply. He wasn’t the only one who seemed to think so. Around him, conversation ebbed away, people leaned forward in their chairs. When she had finished the song, she stood up from her stool and bowed sheepishly to the thunderous applause. “Thank you,” she said, smiling. “Thank you very much. We’re going to take a break and bring out a chorus of young women you’ll be hearing from in the future.”
The crowd continued to applaud as she glided off the stage.
Jack stopped thinking; he was only feeling. He rose to his feet, his heart in his throat, and began striding through the tables toward the stage. When he reached the edge, a man as big as himself stepped in front of him. “Whoa, pal. Where are you going?”
“I need to speak to Audrey—I know her.”
“Yeah, like everyone in this joint knows her. Back it up and don’t cause any trouble.”
“Look, pal,” he said, “I am a friend and I want to say hello—”
“Jack?”
He saw Ted over the bouncer’s shoulder and smiled with relief. If he could have reached him, he would have kissed him. “Ted,” he said, extending his hand. “So you’re still on board, huh?”
“Sure am!” Ted said with a bright smile. “Went to Europe with her. You want to say hello?” he asked, waving the other guy off. “It’s cool, Andy. Jack had my job before me.” Andy nodded and turned back to the crowd, and Ted gestured for him to follow. “Just let me tell her you’re here,” he said as they walked backstage.
Ted ducked into a dressing room and left Jack waiting in a dark corridor with a dozen young girls who were waiting to go on. They were giggling and wiggling around, adjusting their matching dresses, comparing them, and staring at him.