Dark Star
Roslyn Hardy Holcomb
roslynhardyholcomb.com
Dark Star
Published by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb at Smashwords
Copyright January 2012 Roslyn Hardy Holcomb
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book only. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Roslyn Hardy Holcomb.
Cover Artist: Whit Holcomb
This e-book is a work of fiction. Though it might refer to historical events and actual places might be mentioned, the names, characters, places and incidents are either made up by the author or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locales is completely coincidental.
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Dedication
For all my fans who clamored for Tonya’s story, this one’s for you. And for my husband, Whit, who always has my back no matter what mad scheme I dream up. I might crash, but I know you’ll never let me burn.
Chapter One
“I can’t believe she’s bringing that man to my party,” Tonya said as she flopped down onto one of the spa’s luxurious manicure chairs.
“Who is bringing who?” asked Callie, her best friend.
“Who is bringing whom,” Tonya corrected with barely contained impatience. “My mama.”
Callie pursed her lips. “Ah so the him we’re talking about is Reuben?”
“Of course it’s Reuben. Whom else has she been living with since we were in high school?”
“Then that’s probably why she’s bringing him. You need to calm down; this is no time to freak out.” Callie said, her six months pregnant belly making her movements awkward as she rose to study the nail polish colors on a shelf behind the manicure station.
“Who said I was freaking out?”
“You always turn into grammar girl when you’re upset. Cut it out, it’s annoying,” Callie said.
“I can’t believe you of all people don’t have a problem with this.”
“What do you mean ‘you of all people’?” Callie asked with a distracted frown.
“You know what I mean. You’re the nice girl. I’m so...not nice. The man is married to someone else and he’s the minister of our church.”
“It can hardly be called my church anymore. Bryan and I hardly ever get back to Maple Fork now --”
Tonya rolled her eyes. “God, I really hate you when you’re pregnant. You turn into a big placid cow. A beautiful cow,” she admitted grudgingly, “but a cow nonetheless.”
“There’s no need to insult me just because I won’t call your mama the whore of Babylon over her unconventional relationship.”
“Unconventional relationship? Is that what they call living with someone else’s husband nowadays? Clearly you’ve been in California too long. Here in flyover country we call it adultery.”
“Tonya, it’s been twenty years. I can’t believe you’re not over this by now,” Callie said.
“You don’t know how it feels. I was picked on and called a whore even when I was a little girl because of what my mama did. His kids made my life a living hell. And what was worse? I couldn’t even be mad about it. If my daddy had left my mama for some woman I’d take it out on anybody I could.” She took several deep breaths, trying to maintain her composure. She was not going to get emotional over this; though she had a hard time believing her mother didn’t know she’d have exactly this reaction, especially right now. The stress of the past few weeks had taken its toll on her equilibrium. She loved writing, but hated pretty much everything else about the business. More than anything she loathed doing promotions and publicity. Just thinking about the tour she was about to embark on was enough to make her queasy. Not for the first time she wished she could hire some type of body double to take over that aspect of the job. Maybe she’d pitch the idea of a stunt writer to Leslie, her agent, the next time she saw her. Yeah right. Her publisher didn’t even want to pay for regular publicity; somehow she doubted that even Leslie, whose predatory tendencies were the stuff of legends, had a shot at getting any more money out of them.
Callie reached out to give her hand a sympathetic pat. “I know Tonya, I was there. I think every fight I got into at school was because of someone picking on you, but I’m not going up against your mama. For one thing, it’s none of my business. And for another, I’m scared to death of her. I’m pretty sure she’d whup my butt, and if she didn’t, my mama would.”
Somehow Tonya resisted the urge to scream. “Everybody’s scared of Mama. That’s part of the problem. Folks let her do whatever she wants because they’re afraid of her. Who else could get away with living with someone else’s husband all these years in a town the size of Maple Fork?”
“Look at you selling wolf tickets like you’re not terrified, too, but you have got a point. However, I don’t think this little tantrum has anything to do with your mama shacking up with Reverend Davis.” Having chosen a polish, Callie sat down at the manicure station next to Tonya.
It had been mean to call her friend a cow, especially since Callie had never looked more beautiful. Her rich sienna-hued skin glowed as though lit from within. Sure she was absolutely huge, but she looked like a fertility goddess, which was fitting as she and her husband Bryan were apparently determined to populate the earth with little entrepreneurs and rock stars. Tonya couldn’t stop a pang of envy. She loved Callie and adored her two-year-old twins. That she would love the new baby just as much was a given, but she longed for a husband and family of her own. At one time she’d thought -- she shook her head. Going down that path was pointless. It was best to leave the past in the past.
“So what exactly do you think you know?” Tonya said.
“I think you’re projecting. I mean Mrs. Stephens has had the man hanging around more than half our lives. It’s not like you give a damn about what the public thinks of you. You’ve made that clear on more than one occasion,” Callie said with a wry twist of her lips.
“It’s not that I don’t care. I just refuse to live my life based on it. I learned that lesson early on.”
“See, there? Some good did come out of your mama’s affair.”
Tonya rolled her eyes at her friend. “Yeah, right. I doubt there will be a scandal about it, if that’s what you mean, but I’m still not looking forward to it. This night is important to me. I’ve worked hard for it. I just hate to think of anything going wrong, and I can’t imagine anything wronger than this.”
“Hey, we’re not in the locker room anymore. Nobody’s going to jump you, and if they do, well, I’ve got your back.”
Tonya pursed her lips, looking dubiously at her friend’s enormous belly. “I’m thinking you might need to phone that one in.” Callie laughed and Tonya joined in. Then the always-diplomatic Callie changed the subject.
“So what do you think of this salon?” she asked casually. Too casually.
Tonya looked around the stylishly appointed spa. The soft shades of taupe and cream stood out against exotic hardwoods. The aestheticians wore coordinating smocks. The place was cleaner than a surgery theatre, yet somehow managed to maintain a warmth that belied the rather antiseptic colors. She could only imagine that the lush plants that were strategically placed throughout the building helped add coziness
to the atmosphere. She wasn’t sure, but she sensed there was feng shui involved. The furniture was also quite fabulous. Unlike most modern furniture, it was actually made for sitting. She shifted around on the buttery soft leather seat. She’d been thinking about getting some new pieces for her place and knew good leather when she sat on it. These chairs were covered in top grade stuff.
“I think it’s great. Let me guess, you want to buy it.”
Callie shook her head as though exasperated. “We already have. You really need to start paying more attention. I told you about this six months ago. I swear girl, if I wanted to, I could rob you blind.
Tonya pursed her lips. She should’ve guessed. Callie maintained a schedule that only an avowed Type A personality could love. She rarely took time to pamper herself, typically reserving that treat for when she wanted to investigate a company for acquisition. This was the third one they’d looked at; deals had fallen through on the other two. “If you were the type to rob me blind, I would pay more attention. I ate glue with you in kindergarten. You taught me how to eat pickles with Now or Laters in them. I know who you are.”
Callie suddenly made a face. “Please. Just the thought of that makes me queasy.”
“Everything makes you queasy here lately. It’s strange. You weren’t that way with the twins.”
“Each pregnancy is different.” Callie sighed and rubbed her belly. “Are you ready for the party tomorrow night? It’s going to be so cool. My best friend is a New York Times best selling author. I can’t believe your IHOP books have made it so big.”
Tonya gritted her teeth reminding herself that her friend was pregnant and not firing on all cylinders. “It’s not IHOP, it’s Waffle House. And the books are not about Waffle Houses. The lead character just works in one.” At that moment, their manicurists joined them at their respective stations. After inquiring about their preferences the ladies began to work. Tonya felt somewhat guilty about the state of her hands and she didn’t even want to think about her feet, which were next on the agenda. She’d been in deadline hell for months and hadn’t bothered with either. She continued the conversation. “I’m very excited, too. I never thought I’d have a big glamorous New York party in my honor. I just wish Mama was coming without her boyfriend.”
“The gallery is the perfect venue for the party. They have everything ready. Very professional and efficient. I love the place,” Callie said.
“I can’t believe the way you’ve taken to big city living and the celebrity lifestyle. You were so afraid of having to deal with the paparazzi when you and Bryan first got together,” Tonya said.
Callie shrugged. “What could I do? Bryan’s a celebrity -- ”
“And you are too. How many reality shows have they offered you? With and without Bryan. Once all that tabloid mess went down, you were a genuine star.”
“Bryan would rather have his fingernails removed than cater to that kind of foolishness. Can you imagine us on a reality show?” she asked with a delicate snort. “Bryan would kill all the producers the first day. Anyway, he’s a genuine star, and he’s the man I love. Besides you and I both have lived in a fishpond all our lives. Small towns are like that. This is the same except on a larger scale. Bryan and I manage to have our privacy when we really need it.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks so much for putting this together for me. I’d rather have a daily Brazilian wax than socialize,” Tonya said.
“What a hermit,” Callie chided. “Your appreciation is duly noted, but I didn’t do much. It was mainly Cecilia.”
“Amazing as she is, my publicist could not get this many celebrities to come to a book release party. I don’t want to think about the favors you must have called in.”
Callie shrugged again. “Trust me; I’ve had to do worse. How are you liking your rooms at the hotel? Is your mama staying in your suite, or is she going to want something separate?”
“For God’s sake Callie, the suite has three bedrooms. No point in letting them go empty. I think Roshonda’s staying too.”
“Oh, I didn’t think she was coming,” Callie said.
“She changed her mind, or rather, I changed it for her. She’s been moping over that thug life ex-boyfriend of hers for too damned long. Bright lights and big city is just what she needs to cheer her up.” She made a dismissive gesture with the hand the technician wasn’t working on. “Anyway, I’ve got a meeting with my publicist and then I’m off on tour the next day and won’t see Mama again for a few weeks. So I thought it would be a good idea to have her in my suite. You know how she gets when I don’t come around for a while.”
Callie grinned at her. “You’re such a good daughter.”
“Yeah. Now if we can get through this party without her embarrassing me any more than can be helped.”
“Well good luck with that,” Callie said looking down at her nails.
* * * * *
Having been polished and pampered to within an inch of her life Tonya reclined on the sofa of her suite, relaxing and contemplating a brief nap before the party. A nap was particularly tempting, as the couch was nearly as comfortable as her bed back home. As was typical for New York boutique hotels, her suite was small, but luxurious beyond belief. The flokati rug on the floor was a textural delight and the distressed leather covering the sofa made her want to loll about like a well-fed kitty. The entire room was that way--soft and fluffy contrasting with rugged and textured with lots of natural wood to add warmth and comfort. In her mind Tonya had already named it the leather and lace suite and she loved it.
She picked up her laptop -- which was never far from her -- from the coffee table and began scrolling through her emails. After answering routine missives from her agent and publicist, she started going through messages from her fans. Though it could be monotonous she made a habit of answering any she received and prevented a backlog by responding to a few each day. Most were merely complimentary; others asked specific questions -- either when the next book was coming out or about the plot of a previous story. Most she could answer off the top of her head. Others she set aside in a special folder to get to when she had the time. She frowned at one email; it was the tenth one she’d received from the same fan that week. There was nothing scary or unsettling in the messages themselves, but the sheer volume was troubling. She’d trashed the rest of them, but now she hesitated, her hand hovering over the delete key; then she decided to place it in the kook file.
Occasionally she’d receive a note from someone who obviously had mental or emotional problems. They’d never developed into anything, but this one, while ostensibly a gushing fan letter; somehow set off her radar and it seemed prudent to keep it. After finishing her mail for the day, she placed the computer back on the coffee table and snuggled down deeper into one of the countless pillows for a nap. Just as she was dozing off there was a knock on the door. Before she could get up to open it, she heard the key in a lock and the door opened to reveal her mother accompanied by her long-time lover, Reuben. A bellman behind them had their luggage on a cart.
Tonya stood to embrace her mother and to say hello to Reuben.
“Why don’t you take the room over there?” she said with a gesture to her right. She resumed her place on the sofa and waited while her mother got situated. The bellman left and she assumed they were freshening up before returning. After twenty minutes or so they came back out. Reuben went over to the small bar to pour drinks, while her mother joined her on the sofa.
“So how was the flight up?” Tonya asked.
“Not too bad. You know flying out of Atlanta is always a little slice of hell,” Anita said with a wave of a perfectly manicured hand. Not for the first time Tonya wondered how her mother did it. Despite a demanding career as an RN, she always managed to look as though she was nothing more than a lady who lunched. She never failed to flatter her petite frame in the latest fashion. Today she was wearing an elegant camel colored pantsuit. No one wore a suit to fly anymore, especially in July. Her almond-hued skin was nea
rly wrinkle free and was framed by her carefully colored golden brown bob.
Reuben brought them each a drink before sitting down in a facing club chair with one he’d poured for himself. No matter what she could say about Reuben, and there was plenty, the man was the best dresser she knew. He too was wearing a well-tailored suit, though his was a light misty gray, which flattered his graying hair. Reuben was a small man, shorter than Tonya’s five nine, and shorter than Anita when she wore heels, which was all the time. Yet somehow they perfectly complemented one another. He wasn’t particularly good looking, but he carried himself in such a way that it took a while to notice that, and most people were already taken in by his charm long before they realized he was almost ugly.
Tonya took an appreciative sip of her vodka tonic. Perfect as always. For a Baptist minister, the man knew his way around a liquor cabinet.
“I was thinking maybe we could get some shopping in while we’re here. I love to shop here, and isn’t that designer you like so much...Isn’t her name Geechee? You know the one up in Brooklyn,” her mother said.
Reuben sighed. “Somehow I knew this trip would end up costing me a mint.”
Her mother rolled her eyes at him. “Typical male. Always want a woman to look good, but don’t want to pay for it.” She looked at Tonya. “What time do you want to leave tomorrow?”
“Yes, Geechee’s still in Brooklyn, but I won’t be able to go up there. You know this is a working trip for me. I’ve got meetings with my agent, editor and publicist and then I’m off on the book tour. Of course, y’all can stay in the suite as long as you like. Go out and do the tourist stuff...”
“You mean to tell me that other than this party tonight, I won’t see you the whole time I’m here?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you understood.”
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