UNBROKEN (Friends, Lovers, or Nothing Book 5)

by Jackie Chanel

  “I appreciate your advice, Corwin, but I’m the reason people care about me. Maybe it’s time that we stop bending over for these jerks. Tell me…never mind,” I said. “Paulie, just tell that dude and his lawyer what I said. I’ll get Tracy to handle the rest. In the time it takes for him to file a lawsuit, Tracy will have me on every morning show in America talking to stay-at-home moms about how I feared for my child’s safety. Are we done here?”

  “Actually, we aren’t,” Paulie answered.

  “I’ll let you two talk.”

  Corwin nodded at Paulie—probably some type of lawyer code for get your obnoxious client in line—then shut the office door. As soon as the door clicked shut, Paulie leaned back in his chair and loosened his tie.

  “Bro, I hate that guy. He’s such a fuckin’ prick. Thanks for bringing up Kanye. He dropped Corwin right before that whole cameraman incident.”

  “If your boss is prick, quit,” I said. “Start your own firm in Atlanta. You have enough clients. Hell, all you have to do is mention it to Roxx and she’ll start funneling artists your way.”

  “You’re still on that Atlanta move, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Hmm, maybe I will talk to Roxy. Either way…” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a stack of paperwork. “When do you plan on signing these?”

  “What’s all that?”

  “Contracts, Aiden. Your contracts.” He exhaled loudly and started thumbing through the stack. “Calvin Klein renewal, Verizon, Fender renewal, Bud Light, Mercedes Benz.” He stopped talking and glared at me. In that moment, Paulie was just my lawyer and not my best friend.

  “You asked for more work. Roxy found you more work. You know how this works, Aiden. We’ve been doing this for too long. You didn’t want to hire an agent, remember? ‘All I need is a manager and a lawyer’ is what you said so Roxy and I have filling that role. But you can’t have us out there negotiating the deals then you sit on the contracts for weeks. You’ve had the Mercedes contract for a month! I don’t know what you’re waiting on. If they weren’t legit deals…if you weren’t getting the most money Roxy and I could get you, you wouldn’t have ever seen these contracts.”

  “My bad. Give me a pen.” I reached for the stack. “I’ll sign them now.”

  Paulie put his hand over the papers. “How much is the Verizon deal? How long is the Benz contract? How many appearances do you have to make for Bud Light?”

  I had no idea. Paulie knew that I didn’t know. I should be aware of the terms of the deals. I’ve been slacking.

  “Alright,” I said. “I’ll read them all tonight and have Mona bring them by tomorrow.”

  “You better. If I don’t have these in hand by tomorrow at five, I’m calling everyone and telling them that you changed your mind. As for this…” He pulled a single piece of paper from the bottom of the stack. “The mother of them all. Every day Mel gets the same three phone calls asking about this. One at 9:07, one at 12:25, and one at 5:19. Every fuckin’ day, Aiden. I don’t know how much longer we can keep stalling these people.”

  “What people?”

  “Ramey’s editor, publisher, and agent. We both know you aren’t going to leave your ex hanging out there to dry. Considering that you spent the night with her a few weeks ago, I don’t know what you’re waiting on.”

  Perplexed, I sat back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest. I had no idea how Paulie knew about Ramey’s visit. If he knows, how many other people know? I can think of two right off the bat. Does Sunny know?

  “Yeah, imagine how many favors Roxy, Tracy, and I had to call in to keep that away from the public. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Roxy and Tracy told you to ask me about that?”

  “I volunteered. I couldn’t let them ask. You would have left their office needing a new agent and a new publicist. They were both ready to drop you, dude.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not what you think.”

  I tried to explain how and why Ramey ended up in my hotel room but Paulie just laughed. He wasn’t buying it.

  “I don’t care what happened. That’s between you, Ramey, Sunny, and God. I just want to make sure that we’re all on the same page when it comes to keeping your name out of the headlines for shit that pertains to your relationships, past, present, and future.”

  “I wasn’t expecting Ramey to show up.”

  “And all I’m saying is that you need to actually practice some discretion because we’ve already had too many instances in the last six months and we’re heading into the biggest shitstorm soon.”

  “Fine. But as for that release paper, I already gave Ramey an answer. It’s not my fault she hasn’t told her people. She’s not getting that paper until after the wedding.”

  “It would have been nice if you’d told me that so I’d have an answer to give her people when they call my office three times a day.”

  “Sorry, bro.”

  “Don’t ‘sorry, bro’ me, Aiden. Just don’t make my job harder. I’m trying to stay on top of this book thing because it’s going to be equally as huge for you as it is for her. I don’t think you’re taking this as seriously as you should be.”

  “Are you speaking to me as my lawyer or as my friend?”

  “Both. We don’t even know what’s in this book. What the general public knows is that you slept with one of the authors and married the other. It doesn’t even matter what they say in the book. Everybody is going to rehash your relationships with both of them. Every interview you do is going to be about that damn book, and,” he glowered at me. “You aren’t even getting a dime in royalties.”

  I burst out laughing. I had a feeling that everyone’s opposition to Ramey’s book had nothing to do with what she wrote about me. They were pissed that I wasn’t making any money off it. If I don’t make money, Roxy doesn’t make any money. That was another reason Paulie was hounding me about the contracts and not taking into consideration how crazy life has been for the past few weeks.

  “I have a copy of the book,” I told him and stood up. I had to go. I was already late for lunch. “Send Mel over to the house to get it. On the other hand, call Mona. She might have it. She wanted to read it before it got released. But I’m out. I’m late for lunch with the fam.”

  Chapter 31: Pickin’ Up the Pieces

  ONE SIXTY-FIVE.

  The digital scale numbers didn’t change after the fourth time I stepped on the scale. One sixty-five...I guess I can live with that. I hoped to be down to one forty-five by the wedding but we’re a month away and I have to get my dress finished. I planned to take it in to a six but I’ll leave it at an eight and just finish it. No matter how many times the girls and I try to run up and down Runyon Canyon until the wedding, I’m not going to lose another twenty pounds.

  Aiden was lying in bed with Winter sleeping on his chest when I walked back into my bedroom. He had his headphones on and was writing song lyrics on his phone. He was supposed to be at rehearsal because he does have a tour to get ready for. However, he was in the exact same position he was in when I got out of bed to take a shower.

  Quietly, I slid my phone off the dresser and preserved this moment on Instagram and Twitter. His fans lose it over these pictures. I can post Madison Charles wearing custom Armani Prive at the Oscars and get a few thousand likes. Post a video of the guitar hero changing Winter’s diaper or playing with Summer and it’s a million views in five minutes. It’s crazy.

  I crawled on the bed and kissed Aiden’s lips. He smiled and took off his headphones. He held up his phone.

  “You tryin’ to steal my followers, Sunny Rain?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Carefully, as to not disturb the baby or accidently touch my surgery site, Aiden pulled me closer.

  “Thought you and the girls were going to work out? I’m all prepped for babysitting duty.”

  “It’s not babysitting when they’re your own children. Are you sure you don’t
need Jess?”

  “Baby, I got this. Jess needs a day off, but,” his hand slid down over my behind. “She can take Winter for about an hour.”

  I recognized his intentions from the way his fingers trailed up and down my spine. I shared his same desire but we were not allowed to have sex yet. Eight weeks...that’s what the doctors said. Now that we’re on good terms again, eight weeks might as well be eight years.

  “Eight weeks,” I reminded him. “You still have two more weeks.”

  “Fuck, Sunny,” Aiden groaned. “That’s not what I remember. What was the point of a six-week checkup?”

  “That was for Winter, not me. I’ve been at the doctor every week.” I patted his chest and got out of the bed. “Two more weeks.” I slid on my Nikes. “Are you almost packed for Atlanta? We won’t be back in LA until after our honeymoon.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t see why I have to be there a full month early. The fellas and I already have our tuxes. They fit fine.”

  “You have our checklist. If you think I should handle everything on that list, take care of two babies, and finish pre-marital counseling without you, then, by all means, stay here,” was all I said before I left the room.

  I’ve been told that a child or tragedy can make or break a fragile relationship. Aiden and I experienced both on the same day. If anybody had asked where I thought we’d be after I got out of the hospital, I would have been honest and answered that I thought we were done after he told me about the emergency hysterectomy. Up until that moment, I was still planning our wedding while anticipating getting a break up call or text from him.

  But something happened during the week I spent in the hospital. There wasn’t a single time that I opened my eyes that Aiden wasn’t in the room. Sure, he may have been talking to Roxy or handling his business, but the fact that he never left me for six days gave me confidence that we were going to be okay.

  We talked when my parents went back to my house and visiting hours were over. We talked about our future, our feelings, and our careers. We even filled out that questionnaire for Pastor Hodges. We also had amazing counselors at the hospital that talked to us daily and gave us wonderful suggestions on ways to communicate our grief, both separately and together.

  Most importantly, we prayed together. We’d never done that before in all the years that we’ve known each other. If we weren’t so saddened by what happened on the operating table, I’d say it was the best week of our relationship. It was bittersweet at best. However, we left UCLA Medical Center focused and still in love.

  I hit Sunset and turned up my music, headed to Runyon Canyon for one last workout with the girls before I head to Atlanta for our wedding. When we first started planning, I told Daniela that our wedding was going to be a production. I wasn’t that far off. I wish I hadn’t felt like crap for most of the planning but I’m good now and ready to work. There’s still so much to do and so little time. As much as I’d like them to be with me, Delilah and Kirk have to stay here and take care of the studio.

  ***

  “I swear to God,” Erica complained. “The only reason anyone should be on this fucking trail is if VH-1 is paying them to look like they’re working out. Can we please just walk? Ain’t like your fat ass is going to be working out in Atlanta.”

  The midday sun was beating down on me, Sara, Erica, and Mona. We hadn’t even been on the trail for thirty minutes and sweat poured down our faces and backs. Our cute workout clothes were darker because they were soaked with sweat. Erica was right; this was a bad idea. We slowed down our jog to a tired walk.

  “Call me fat one more time and I’m gonna push you off this canyon. I just had a baby. What’s your excuse?”

  “Matt,” Sara and Mona chimed in at the same time.

  “Bitches,” Erica muttered.

  “Whatever,” I said. “But since we’re walking like we have a camera crew following us, I do have some tea for y’all.”

  “Besides your baby daddy getting sued for breaking a paparazzi’s camera?” Sara laughed.

  “Hush,” Erica said. “Sunny’s lame, never leave the house unless I’m working ass has some tea. I’m dying to know what it is.”

  “Ramey’s trying to fuck Aiden,” I said bluntly and the three of them stopped walking.

  Mona raised her eyebrows. “In what way are you using trying to fuck? Literally or figuratively?”

  “Literally.”

  I told my girls all about what Aiden told me while I was in the hospital. As pissed as I was about his ex-wife popping up at his hotel room—the next time I see that bitch, it’s a wrap—I was happy that Aiden told me about it, didn’t wait until it hit the blogs to apologize for it, and was smart enough to know that if he’d let his ex-wife touch him, he’d never be touched by me again.

  “So, he walked out of your counseling session. Basically told you he was done then goes all the way to Calabasas to drown his problems in a bottle of Grey Goose and somehow Ramey just pops up and you’re okay with it?” Mona asked. “Are you okay?”

  “She’s still got access to those good post-op drugs,” Erica quipped.

  “I agree,” Sara said. “I’m coming by to check your prescriptions.”

  “All y’all can kiss my ass.”

  It felt good to laugh and joke with my friends without the underlying tension about what happened. My poor fertile friends. When I first came home, they were scared to talk about babies or pregnancy around me even though Winter was definitely a blessing and I love being a mom.

  They don’t understand that the only thing that saddens me about my situation is that I couldn’t breastfeed Winter. I think the bond that I have with Summer is so strong because of holding her in my bosom and providing her nourishment. I couldn’t do that with Winter. I was pumping and dumping for three straight weeks because I wanted my milk to flow but I didn’t want her getting any of the drugs that I was taking. By the time my surgery site healed, she was so used to having a bottle that she wouldn’t latch on to my breasts. She’s drinking breast milk now but it’s through a bottle. Our baby girl is getting all the nourishment that a mother can give and I get to freak out her father a couple times a day because he hates the breast pump. Win-win all around.

  Daniela is my only friend who actually understands what I’m going through because she had a full hysterectomy. She has been keeping my spirit lifted and our hopes up with all of her surrogate tales. She’ll be in Atlanta most of the time that I’m there so I know she’ll be doing so much extra in order to keep me from falling into a post-op slump. Her excitement over her surrogate makes me feel like surrogacy is definitely the way to go if we decided to have another kid. With two kids now, that’s a big if.

  “So, where are you moving to Atlanta?” Mona asked Sara.

  We were desperately looking around for a place to sit because we were too sore and too hot to make it back down the trail. We all said a collective ‘fuck it’ and collapsed on the grass.

  “You’re moving to Atlanta?” I asked. “By yourself?”

  Sara nodded. “Hopefully not by ourselves. Tahir has a couple offers from Grady and Emory. Children’s is offering me a position as well. And the houses that Tahir and Aiden saw are gorgeous. I mean, absolutely person. And...” A cunning smile spread across my soon to be sister-in-law’s face. “A little birdie told me that Paulie is looking for office space.”

  “That means the only selfish hold up on Musicians Row is a certain celebrity stylist who’s only thinking of herself, right Sara?”

  “Shut up, E! You’re not even going to be there! You live in Boston with your boyfriend.”

  “My label, my manager, and my band will be in Atlanta so if you think I’m not buying that four-bedroom house at the top of Musicians Row, you are sadly mistaken, Miss Rain. Am I supposed to endure a Boston winter when I can have a house in Georgia? They shut down the city when there are snow flurries down there. How the hell am I supposed to live in a place that gets fifteen inches and people still go to work?”
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  Aiden hasn’t mentioned the move to me but I know he’s not going to leave the kids and me in LA. The only other person in my life that wasn’t begging me to okay the Atlanta plan was Mona and that’s because she’s too much of a professional to interject her personal feelings into her boss’s affairs. However, I know that Aiden promised her a condo and a new car if she comes to Atlanta. I think he finally found an assistant that he loves more than Delilah. I sat up on the grass and looked at all three of Aiden’s co-conspirators.

  “Okay,” I relented. “I’ll check out the houses on your precious Musician’s Row. When we get to Atlanta, I’ll make a decision after my honeymoon and not a moment sooner. And I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

  “Fine. Changing the subject, can we please go to In-N-Out?” Erica sat up and asked. “Sunny’s been eating rabbit food since she had the baby and she’s such a bitch when she’s starving herself.”

  I burst out laughing. God, I can’t stand her sometimes. My best friend gave me a one armed hug and hopped off the grass.

  “For real though. I didn’t come all the way to LA to eat avocados unless it’s in guacamole and chips. I need real food. I’m starving.”

  Chapter 32: Brick House

  “AIDEN, I KNOW YOU love this house and I think it’s perfect. This house was built in 1968 but, as you can see, it’s been completely renovated. You have two and a half acres to yourself. You mentioned wanting a recording studio, and you have a couple options. The pool house has two bedrooms which can easily be converted, a kitchen, laundry, and walk out to pool. There’s also a mother-in-law apartment.”

  Debra was eager to sell us this house and I could see why. With its gleaming hardwoods all over the first floor, double kitchen, master suite on the main floor, it really is perfect. I held Aiden’s hand tightly as we walked through the seven-bedroom house.

  We’ve been in Atlanta for a whole month. Our wedding is tomorrow. As a pre-wedding day gift, I finally allowed him to take me to see the house that he wanted for us. Bad idea.