“You’ll always be my biggest mistake.” I turned to leave, but Ken’s hand wrapped around my biceps, his fingers digging tight into my skin. He yanked hard.
“No, that musician was your biggest mistake,” he hissed. “Made you look like a lovesick slut. Who’d want those leftovers?”
He’d hurt me, and he’d continue to pound on the spot. His triumphant smile lit his eyes, the pale irises darkening. Until Asher shoved him back. Hard.
I turned, wide-eyed, to stare at Asher.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
“You don’t grab a woman. Let alone speak to her like that.” Asher tilted his head. “The receptionist is calling security.” The girl, who was maybe twenty-four, was on the phone, her eyes open wide.
“Good. I’m suing you, Asher.”
Asher folded his arms over his chest, his gaze dropping to the raised, angry skin on my arm. “I’d like to see you try,” he said.
“I can’t believe you shoved him,” I said.
“Hanging out with riffraff,” Ken sniffed. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always beneath me, Briar.”
“I can’t believe he talked to you like that.” Asher narrowed his gaze. “Just goes to show for all his calm God-itude, Kenneth doesn’t know the first thing about women.”
“We’re not doing this,” I said, stepping between them. I turned to Lia, begging her for help.
“Don’t look at me,” she said. “I wanted to hit him. What kind of man runs his mouth about a relationship when he doesn’t have the whole story?” She glared, her gray eyes flinty. “Asshole.”
Ken rounded on Lia. “I’m the asshole? You’re supposed to be a writer. Surely you can engage your limited vocabulary to find a more descriptive word.”
“Asshole connotes the most succinct description of my opinion,” Lia shot back.
My arm throbbed nearly as much as my head. I placed my hand on Lia’s arm. “Don’t engage him. Please.”
The lawyer, John Henderson, cleared his throat. Surprise trickled down my spine. I’d met him before—as Rosie’s date. “Jeannette, have security show Dr. Brenton out. And Dr. Brenton? There were multiple witnesses, plus my video system. I’d think again about suing. You might want to think how it’ll look to the hospital board to see you manhandling a woman who’s spent weeks at your aunt’s side.”
He raised an eyebrow, waited. Ken clenched his jaw but stepped back away from me. Asher relaxed. Mr. Henderson turned his attention back to me, his smile warm.
“Lovely, to see you again, Ms. Moore. Won’t you come into my office?”
“I’d like my sister and her boyfriend to come in with me.”
“Of course,” Mr. Henderson said, including Lia and Asher in his smile.
Lia grabbed my uninjured arm and pulled me into the lawyer’s office. Asher trailed behind, the world’s most talented bodyguard.
Mr. Henderson inclined his head and we stepped into his office. “I’m sorry, Ms. Moore. I didn’t know Dr. Brenton would be here.”
I rubbed the place where he’d grabbed my arm. “I’m okay.”
“Glad to hear. So . . . ” Mr. Henderson took his seat at the head of the conference table. He gestured to the rest of us and we sat, me on one side, Asher and Lia on the other. “Mrs. Douglas made a lot of changes to her will over the past few years. The largest was after she met you about three years ago.”
I nodded, unsure what to say.
“She made some more during the last month of her life, and those might be contested. I understand from Dr. Brenton she was receiving large doses of narcotics to counteract the pain. That portion of the will may drag out. But you needn’t worry. The bulk of your inheritance is untouchable.”
I gaped. Lia leaned forward and gripped my cold fingers. “What, exactly, are you saying?”
Finding my voice, I said, “I loved Rosie for herself. I don’t need her money.”
Mr. Henderson smiled. “She knew that. Just as she knew you wouldn’t do certain things without a nudge. So I’ll jump right on in.” He picked up his glasses and then handed me a copy of the will. I scanned the document quickly.
“Holy mcmoley.” I couldn’t have read that right.
“As you see, about a third of Rosie’s assets go to you. Another third to her nephew, Kenneth Brenton, and the last third goes to the hospital’s cancer wing. But Rosie wanted you to have that money—the money originally designated to the hospital—as well. To start a grief and counseling group through the hospital and the hospice center where she died.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “I don’t need that money.”
“Well, the will’s all legal, so the money’s yours.” Mr. Henderson smiled, quite pleased with the outcome. “You’ll take home about six million after all the taxes. Death is an expensive business. The hospital will do better as it’s a bequest.”
“But . . . that’s so much.”
“She also left you her condo. I’ve talked to Dr. Reid—he’s in charge of the cancer center at the hospital. He’s happy to split the money with you for the counseling program. He’s very excited about the potential there, actually.”
“That’s just . . . wow.” I sat back in the chair, trying to process what he’d told me. I shook my head. “No, I don’t think I can accept this.”
Mr. Henderson leaned forward, his fingers linked. “Rosie worried you’d respond this way. She told me to tell you there was no one more deserving than you. If that wasn’t enough, I was supposed to give you this.”
He held out a white envelope. I let my fingers glide over Rosie’s handwriting, taking a deep breath to steady my leaping pulse.
Slitting the top with Mr. Henderson’s letter opener, I unfolded the single sheet of paper.
I want you to make others as peaceful during their last days as you made me. And I want you to kiss that cute piano player back to his senses. The way he looked at you. Whew! Brought back glorious memories.
No more whining, Briar Anne. You have people to help. Use my money to do it. Please.
Rosie Douglas
P.S. I told John you can only keep the condo as long as you keep Princess. That cat loves you, and you know she hates everyone, including me. Part of her charm. I expect you to keep her on the fresh fish diet she’s become accustomed to. You do know how to spoil a cat, and an old woman. I love you, daughter of my heart.
I glanced up at the date. She’d written the letter five days ago. The day after Hayden left.
“When did she change her will?”
“Right after you and Dr. Brenton stopped seeing each other. She said now she could finally trust your judgment.” I caught the twinkle behind the thick wire-rimmed glasses.
“Of course. And I’m happy to keep Princess.”
Was I? I worried the tip of my thumbnail. I was. I loved the moody fur ball, liked having someone greet me at the end of the day.
Glancing back down at the note, I stared at the words. Rosie asked me to do this—something I really wanted. I slid the note across the table because Lia vibrated with desperate need to know what it said.
“Ken can’t touch the will?”
“He’s already trying to contest it, and he doesn’t even know what it says. Just what the papers reported about you. Lovely picture by the way. I think Rosie would be touched.”
I hugged my arm across my body, looking over to see Asher lean in closer to Lia. Longing welled up inside of me; I wanted what Lia and Asher shared. I wanted that with Hayden. But keeping him at a distance was the safe choice—the don’t-get-hurt-again actions I’d become so good at over the years.
He’d told the world he loved me, but I didn’t think he meant it. If he had, he’d be here with me now. When I needed him. Instead, he was with his band, touring the world, snuggling blondes. The ache built in my chest, an anchor of grief that wouldn’t allow me to breathe, to think, clearly.
Lia’s bright gray gaze met mine over the top of the papers.
“Dr. Brenton cannot win any kind of lawsuit,�
�� Mr. Henderson said. “I’ve made sure of that. I’ll explain that to him when he comes in here in two hours. For our scheduled meeting.”
We sat there in silence for a moment. Lia cuddled the papers in her hands. My sister was sensitive, always had been. Her ability to feel was what made her so good at writing her books, but it left her open to hurt. Doug, her first husband, never understood what made Lia tick, and he flailed her open because of her vulnerability. But with Asher . . . he took Lia’s hand, the slide of their palms an intimate experience. When she tipped her head back against his shoulder, I turned away.
“Thank you, Mr. Henderson. I hope to see you at Rosie’s funeral.”
“Of that there’s no doubt,” he said. His voice was thicker, heavier.
I rose and held out my hand. He clasped it for a long moment, shaking with a firm but gentle gesture. Sadness crept over his cheeks and settled in deep.
“She talked about you,” I said. “In her sleep. She always sounded so happy.”
He nodded, his throat convulsing. “She refused to let me visit her. Said you were there, and she wanted my memories of her to be happy.”
“I hope they were,” I said.
35
Hayden
“Ten till curtain,” Harry yelled.
I moved to the back of the room, seeking as much privacy as I could, and called Briar. Early afternoon there now. Her meeting must be over.
“Hayden.” She was out of breath.
“How’d the meeting go?”
“Tell you the truth, I’m in shock. Crap, hold on.” There was a shuffle of the phone against fabric and then feet running. People were yelling. Crikey, Briar must be out somewhere. The media bothered her still. “Okay, I’m in the building now.” Briar blew out a breath. “It’s getting harder to avoid them. Rosie’s funeral might well be a circus. She’d hate that.”
“I want to be there. For you.” As I said the words, I’d never been more certain of anything.
“Well, you’re not,” Briar said, always the pragmatist. Much as I loved that about her, the trait was currently irritating as hell. “Anyway, Rosie would be ignored, and it’ll be the last time most of her friends get to say goodbye.”
How to explain some of the realizations I’d come to? “I didn’t understand how much Rosie meant to you, really, until I saw the picture that pap took of you splashed across every aggregator site. She’s important to you. I should be there, helping you through this. I fucking hate that I’m not.”
“Yes, and that went so well,” she said. She’d rebuilt her wall. Not that I blamed her. Smart, especially considering my past actions.
I ran my fingers through the short hairs at the back of my head. “I tried to work out the logistics with Harry last night. The concert runs late tonight. All I’ve seen is the concert hall. Looks like all the others we’ve been in.”
“Aren’t you at the concert venue right now?”
I wanted to talk about her day, not about the commitments keeping me from her. “Yeah.”
“When does the show start?”
“We’re going on in a few minutes. It’s streaming live off our website if you want to watch.”
“Oh.”
So little and so much in that one word. “I’d like to know you’re watching, Briar. Would you—” I swallowed. My breathing escalated. I forced the words past my lips. “Would you consider meeting me? I know you’re busy right now, but we fly into JFK in a couple of weeks, winding our way across the country. I’ll buy your ticket.”
The silence stretched, filled with the recriminations Briar was too kind to say out loud. I’d offered this to her before. Then I’d left.
The words I’d been flagellating myself with for days.
“Thank you for asking,” she said. “But I’m not sure us seeing each other again is a good idea. What we had . . . maybe it doesn’t live up to the reality of our lives.”
“We haven’t even tried.”
“The past few days have been an education,” she replied.
I hunched further, my phone tucked into the nook between my shoulder and ear, unwilling to leave without getting some crumb of hope from her.
“I’ll meet you at the airport. All incognito. I have my cap and sunnies. We’ll go to Chinatown. I’ve always wanted to visit there. But it’ll be more fun with you.”
“You don’t have to lie to me, Hayden. You told me going in that you’d leave. You told me you didn’t want to do the relationship thing.”
“That was before. Briar, I—”
“I don’t want to be the butt of more bad jokes or be on the front of gossip rags when you leave again,” Briar said. “For me, this isn’t about getting attention. Some of the things they’ve said. Well, they hurt me.”
Her words, the sadness and exhaustion behind them, they ripped me apart.
“Dammit, Briar, don’t do this.” My breathing was as harsh as if I’d sprinted five kilometers. “We’re good together.”
“Amazing. Maybe because we knew it would end.”
No, I didn’t want this to be all there was to us. I sucked in a big breath.
Harry’s voice sounded from the doorway. “Hayden, you’re on. Let’s go, mate.” I shook him off with a glare. Ets stood across the room, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I have to go. This convo isn’t over.” I dropped my hand and started walking toward the screaming crowd. I put the phone back to my ear. I wasn’t sure if Briar was still on the line; I couldn’t look because I knew I’d lose courage to say what I needed to.
“This here, these people don’t mean as much as you, Sweet Briar.”
I clicked my phone off and huffed out a breath, shaking the tension from my body.
“Let’s get her done,” I said.
“After the show, mate,” Ets said, laughter in his voice. “And a few more besides.”
I glared at my band mate. “I meant the show.”
“You need to enjoy the moment, Hayden. Not many blokes get this chance. That Yank, she’s just one woman in a sea of millions.”
What Ets didn’t understand was that Briar was the only one I wanted.
Three and a half hours later, I yearned for a long shower and a longer talk with Briar. She hadn’t told me enough about her meeting with Rosie’s lawyer. I wanted to know what time the funeral was. I wanted to make plans with her in New York. I wanted her. Period.
Backstage, I smiled; signed some pictures, napkins, and shirts well below the girls’ chests; had more pictures taken of me than I wanted. But this was part of the gig—do for your fans so they stayed fans. Forget for a moment what I wanted, hell, needed.
I understood Briar’s hesitation about this lifestyle. It wasn’t anywhere near as glamorous as I’d expected. Less privacy, more grind. Not the best trade-off for her. I got that. But . . . I wasn’t centered, whole, since I’d left her sleeping in my bed. I just hoped she needed me half as much as I needed her.
“We’re heading back to the dressing room,” Ets said. I raised my hand in a wave. “Found some hot girls to take your mind off that Yank.”
I didn’t want my mind off Briar. I’d finally found someone worth thinking about, and I planned to show her I was worth the risk.
I strode past our roadies, thanking them all for a job well done. They nodded, some high-fived me. Our bus was quiet. A shower, then I’d call Briar. Somehow I’d talk her into visiting me.
Halfway through washing my hair, the shower curtain opened. “Get out,” I yelled.
“I’d rather get you off.”
A woman’s hands slid over my naked shoulders; she molded herself to my back. Her tits were firm, her sleek body rubbing against mine like a fantasy.
I opened my eyes, winced as soap slid into them. I turned my face into the spray, blinking until the soap cleared.
“Get out.” I was in a tiny shower cube, in the clutches of some fan. A fan who should never have made it onto the bus.
“I’m going to show you a good ti
me,” she said. Her voice was husky. Probably sexy, but all I could think about was Briar. My connection with her was tenuous. Briar was already upset about the blonde—what was her name? Didn’t matter. If this leaked, Briar would never give me another chance, not to mention Asher would break my hands. And I’d deserve the punishment and then some.
“Get out of my shower. Now.” I turned my head to glare out of my left eye. The right one still burned from the soap.
The girl pouted sexy red-painted lips. Her mascara ran down her cheeks, and her pale hair was half plastered to her head. I didn’t bother to look lower. Didn’t matter. She wasn’t the woman I wanted.
I scooted back farther into the corner as she stood on tiptoe, molding her body to mine, yanking my head down for a kiss. I exploded out of the tiny space. I wrapped myself in a towel before yanking open the bus’s door to see Ets sitting there, pretty as you please, with a journo I recognized from our meet and greet earlier. My jaw clenched, hard, as I realized he’d set me up.
“I’m done,” I said.
“Enjoyed your shower, then, mate.” He laughed. He didn’t have a clue.
The woman sauntered up behind me. She better have on a towel.
She didn’t.
I scooted away, my eyes never leaving Ets’s face. He quit laughing. I couldn’t believe I’d ever considered him my best mate.
“That was low, even for you. I quit.” I stalked into the back, slamming and locking the door. Should’ve done that last time.
“Hayden, it was all in good fun. You need the relief of a good lay.” I could still hear the amusement in his voice through the door.
I yanked on my boxer-briefs. “You have exactly ten seconds to get the journo out of here if you don’t want him to hear what I have to say to you. And I was serious.”
I pulled on my jeans and socks. I heard Ets say something as the bus door opened. I whipped my shirt over my head, sat on the bunk to pull on my shoes.
“They’re gone,” he yelled.
I sucked in a deep breath and headed out, giving Ets a hard glare as I brushed past him. Much as I wanted to slam my fist into his smirk, I resisted the urge. Barely.
Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five Page 48