A Reason to Forget (The Camdyn Series Book 3)

by Christina Coryell

“Then pretend I’m a comedian,” she commanded, walking off the stage.

  “I think you’re in trouble,” Cole whispered, grabbing my elbow.

  “Me?” I reiterated in a shocked voice. “What is with you, acting all suave and cool under pressure? ‘I need to get that beautiful man up here.’ Really?”

  “Somebody’s jealous,” he surmised.

  “No, definitely not,” I insisted as unseen hands reached around my neck, and I realized I was now sporting a red cape over my white leopard dress.

  Well, at least it matches my shoes.

  “You’re in big trouble,” Cole laughed as a hand guided him off stage and back to his seat near Lex. More hands were pulling at me, placing a tiara on my head, and then someone supplied a scepter.

  “What is this?” I asked in bewilderment.

  “She’s going to challenge you to ad lib karaoke,” the crew member mumbled. “You think you’re the queen of karaoke, but she’s going to prove you wrong, and then she’s going to take your crown.”

  “Has anyone ever won this game?” I muttered, lifting my hand to feel that cold tiara perched atop my curls.

  “What do you think?” he smirked, stepping away and leaving me standing there feeling like an idiot – no ad-libbing required.

  “And, we’re back here on The Tilly Show with C.W. Oliver, otherwise known as Camdyn Taylor, and we’re about to play ad lib karaoke,” Tilly suddenly broke in from the side of the stage, standing in front of a set that looked like a jukebox in a 1950’s café. I was awkwardly ushered closer to her, and I sidestepped a bit, trying to appear nonchalant in that stupid queen getup. There was some old-fashioned music playing, and then the announcer sang the words “ad lib karaoke,” followed by Tilly dancing a bit.

  “I am going to give you a song from a particular decade, and I will start out some of the words, and then you have to finish by making your own version,” Tilly instructed me. “At the end, you will lose and I will take your crown. Understood?”

  “I’m up for the challenge,” I answered confidently, even though I was definitely not and was almost shaking a bit.

  “1940s, ‘White Christmas,’ here we go,” she stated. “I’m dreaming of a…”

  “…short song list,” I sang, earning laughs from the audience. I lifted my hand to my face to be sure they recognized my embarrassment and then bit my lip, causing the chuckling to grow louder.

  “Okay, okay, not bad,” she informed me. “Let’s step it up a bit. 2000’s. ‘Teardrops on My Guitar.’”

  Pretending I was cracking my knuckles, I then tilted my head to one side and then the other as though I was stretching, deciding the best thing to do would be to keep the audience laughing.

  “Bring it,” I said simply. Narrowing her eyes at me, Tilly cleared her throat.

  “You’re the reason…”

  “…for…the…skip on my DVR.”

  That time I actually heard one of the crew members laugh out loud, and I was afraid to look at Tilly for fear that I might have made her angry that time.

  “Girl’s got game,” she breathed. “Alright, missy. 1970’s. ‘Staying Alive.’ Do you all think she’s got what it takes?” The audience clapped, and I smiled at them as I held that tiara on my head with one hand.

  “Cheer me on, people!” I pleaded.

  “You can tell by the way…”

  “…I sing this song…I’m the ad lib queen…and this won’t take long.”

  “What is happening?” Tilly objected. “Do you have cue cards stuck inside that dress or something? You are a formidable opponent.”

  “Thank you, madam,” I crooned, curtsying and twirling that scepter around like a baton.

  “We might need this one as a weekly guest, what do you think?” She raised her hands to the audience to gauge their reaction, and they cheered loudly. “Okay, this is a doozy, and I doubt if you can handle it. I have never challenged anyone to this song, because it is the cream of the crop. 1980’s - ‘Ice Ice Baby.’ Are you ready?”

  Oh my goodness. You want me to freestyle rap on national television? Oh, sure, no problem. Good grief!

  Tilly folded her arms across her chest and smirked at me, and I took a deep breath as I shook my head with a smile.

  “Alright, stop…”

  “…’cause I’m about to throw down…that’s right people…it’s the Camdyn T show now.” Giggling a bit, I paused for a second. “Word to your mother.”

  “And I’m done,” Tilly announced, throwing her index cards on the ground. “Camdyn Taylor, everybody, queen of ad lib karaoke. Get her latest book, Crossing Heartbreak, wherever books are sold. You’ve been a doll, even when I was flirting with your husband. I still think you’re handsome, mister. Tune in tomorrow when we go on location to the set of one of television’s Emmy-winning dramas. See you then!” She began bobbing along with the music, and I looked over at Cole and Lex, who were animatedly talking to each other. Looking out at all those people in the audience who were there to see me, I felt a bit bubbly and amazed that I hadn’t majorly screwed up that opportunity like I thought I would. In fact, it had actually gone pretty well.

  “Thank you so much, Tilly,” I stated as I turned to face her. She offered her hand to me, and I took it eagerly.

  “Hey, no problem,” she said. “You’ll have to come back again – they ate you up.”

  With that, she was backstage and the crew members were trying to organize people out of the studio. With a little begging, I managed to devise a system by which they could file past me so I could shake every last hand, and that’s precisely what I did for the next hour. After every couple people who just said hello, I would have one who insisted upon telling me a personal story about one of my books, and it was flat out wonderful. Never before had I been able to really discuss my work with random people who considered themselves fans, and they were all so earnestly happy to meet me that it made my heart very full.

  When I was finally finished, I slid my shoes off and held them in my hand as I walked over to Cole and Lex, who were waiting for me expectantly. To my surprise, Lex grabbed me first, wrapping me in a bear hug.

  “I have no idea what happened up there, but you were outstanding!” he told me. “I can’t wait to see my dad’s reaction. We totally nailed this one.”

  “We?” I protested. “I didn’t see you doing any ad lib karaoke.”

  “I guess all my corny little songs paid off, huh?” Cole wondered with a grin. “You can thank me later.”

  “To the airport?” Lex suggested, causing me to let out a huge sigh.

  “Can I change first?” I begged, and Lex relented, so I went back to the dressing room to locate my jeans and a cozy green v-neck t-shirt, which I paired with brown flats. Right before I opened the door to head back out as a world traveler, my phone began buzzing, and I picked it up to find that it was Hannah. She had seen us on television, she said. For a minute, she was afraid I was going to Vanderhuff Tilly. Laughing heartily, I told her that it did cross my mind, but I overcame my instincts. Since I was heading out, our conversation only lasted a moment, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t monumental.

  “Grandpa and I are really proud of you,” she told me before she hung up.

  So, in spite of my success, I still left The Tilly Show crying.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Within three days, I had been from Philadelphia to Tennessee, Tennessee to Los Angeles, and then found myself traveling from Los Angeles to New York City. As we were walking through the airport in California, a young man with a mass of curls at the top of his head recognized us from The Tilly Show. “Hey, word to your mother!” he yelled at me across the terminal. Not sure how to react, I just smiled and waved while Cole laughed at me. Wouldn’t it be funny if I was forever known for my rapping skills, he joked. I informed him quite assuredly that the scenario he proposed would not be funny in any way, shape, or form.

  Not to be outdone, Lex quickly pointed out that I now had a new embarrassment to add to
my viral proposal videos, as if those weren’t bad enough on their own. Plus, people would probably easily find them since they accidentally used the name Camdyn Taylor on my book rather than Camdyn Parker.

  “Oops,” Lex said, as though that helped anything.

  Sitting in first class with Lex in the row behind us, Cole allowed me to lean my head against his shoulder as he rubbed his finger slowly across the top of my hand.

  “When are we ever going to have a normal life?” I muttered, snuggling against him.

  “What is this normal you speak of?” he asked, repeating something I had said to him soon after we met. “Maybe this will just be our normal.”

  “No, I refuse to accept that. If Rita hadn’t come back, things might have been more normal, I guess. I wonder if she’s still driving Rosalie insane.”

  “Most likely,” he assessed. “Are you going to tell her about your grandmother? About her thinking you were Darlene?”

  “No.” Twisting slightly, I looked up into his face. “Do you think that’s wrong of me?”

  “Not if she wouldn’t care anyway,” he suggested, leaning down to kiss me. “Do you know how cute you were doing that weird karaoke? That was like you finishing my stupid songs on steroids.”

  “I don’t know how you would even notice me with Tilly hanging all over you,” I complained, frowning up at him slightly.

  “Who?” he teased, giving me one of those smiles. “Why would I pay attention to Tilly when I have the most beautiful, intriguing, special woman in the world right next to me?”

  “I was wondering that same thing myself,” I told him, causing him to smirk.

  “Oh, were you?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “How much longer until we get to the hotel?” he wondered, tilting my chin up so I was looking in his eyes.

  “Not long,” I guessed. “Why, are you tired?”

  “Nope,” he said with a grin.

  “I’m still behind you,” Lex complained quietly, causing me to laugh as I relaxed against Cole’s side.

  -§-

  Being on the morning shows meant an unrealistic wake-up call, a horrified look into the hotel bathroom mirror, and a sincere hope that whoever did my makeup would be a magician. I decided to go a little less dressy for these appearances, and I had a navy blazer, gray t-shirt with a bow feature at the top, and a pair of skinny jeans with navy suede heels. After doing such a fantastic job at The Tilly Show, I was feeling pretty confident. In fact, I was almost excited. My first interview was supposed to be with Trent Bauer, a veritable morning show staple for the past fifteen years or so, and I had never seen him do a crazy interview, so I figured it would be very straightforward and informational. Number two was with Karen and Jen on a rival channel, and the third interview was with a new gentleman named Riley who I hadn’t heard of prior to that day.

  What possible difference does it make, anyway? You’ve got this, Camdyn. Cool, calm, collected – you were totally meant for this.

  Lex’s driver, Jesse, came around to pick us up, and we had been through enough together the last time I was in New York that I felt a hug appropriate. He didn’t complain, but simply smiled and opened the back door.

  It was nice having Cole along to hold my hand while we were riding the elevator and waiting for instructions, but when they said they were taking us to makeup, and emphasized the “us,” he didn’t seem too excited. Apparently he had become a hot commodity after his appearance on Tilly’s program, especially since she had gone half insane flirting with him. No one bothered asking if he was willing to appear on television.

  Once I actually sat in that makeup chair, though, the nerves seemed to get the better of me again, because I started to feel slightly sick. All this traveling was apparently wreaking havoc, but as I had the other times, I tried to put it out of my mind and press through. The lady doing my makeup was busy talking to her friend about someone they both knew, so she barely talked to me at all.

  “Are you okay?” Cole asked quietly.

  “Sure, why do you ask?” Taking a deep breath, I attempted to smile at him.

  “You just seem like you aren’t feeling well,” he told me, looking concerned.

  “It’s just nerves,” I assured him. “I’m fine, really.”

  Yes, you are, Camdyn. You’re fine. Totally fine. Just chill out, would you?

  “You got nothing to worry about,” the makeup gal burst into our conversation with a strong New Jersey accent. “I saw the way you ran over Tilly yesterday – Trent won’t be nothin’ after her.”

  In my head, I suppose I knew that. My stomach, though, wasn’t quite being cooperative. Several cleansing breaths later, we were being seated on a beige couch during a commercial break, while Trent made his way toward us, holding his hand out and introducing himself.

  Rachel will be so jealous of me, I thought.

  Trent was seated in a separate chair near us, and they were counting down the seconds until we went live.

  Five, four, three…

  Gosh, I wish I could calm these nerves!

  “Now for our book of the day segment, and we have a special treat today,” Trent began, staring at the camera. “We have featured C.W. Oliver on our book of the day segments before, but never in the flesh, because until now C.W. Oliver was a pen name for an unknown author. You will be happy to know, though, that the author behind C.W. Oliver is actually Camdyn Taylor, and she is here today with her husband, Cole. Camdyn, Cole, welcome to the program.”

  “Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here,” I insisted, choking back a hiccup while Cole smirked over at me slightly.

  “Camdyn, I have to tell you, everyone here was talking this morning about the way you were interacting with your fans yesterday,” Trent began, crossing one of his long legs over the other in his dress slacks. “You somehow knew a bunch of them by name.”

  “Well, I haven’t had the pleasure of interacting with my readers much, so what little interaction I have managed to have with them, via research or internet blogs, has a tendency to stick with me,” I offered, shifting a little in my seat.

  “I’m sure that won’t be a problem now that your name and face are out there,” he continued. “Is it going to be strange for you, going from relative anonymity to having people know you?”

  “Of course,” I answered, clutching at my abdomen, “but I have a terrific support system behind me, so I know they will keep me firmly grounded.”

  “And I’m assuming one of those keeping her grounded is you, Cole. It seems after reading her introduction in the book that you two can’t have been married long.”

  “I’m afraid we’re still in that honeymoon stage, where we drive everybody crazy,” Cole stated with a laugh.

  “Ah, yes, I remember those days,” Trent chuckled. “I assume you’re both excited about the previous books being made into feature films. How closely do you follow the talks on those?” Trent was looking at me, but I honestly felt as though I would be instantly sick if I tried to talk, so instead I widened my eyes and looked at Cole, silently begging for help.

  “Um, I think at this point most of the talent aspects are just speculation, and they don’t have anything nailed down yet,” Cole offered. “Camdyn has her favorites, of course, but she would probably be hesitant to name them in case those actors didn’t wind up with the parts.”

  Going to be sick.

  “Naturally, that’s understandable,” Trent nodded. “Camdyn, this book is about your own fifth great-grandmother, correct?”

  Going to be sick.

  “Yes,” Cole stated, glancing over at me quizzically, “it is about Willa Lawrence, her fifth great-grandmother. It’s a true story of a spirit that can’t be broken and the most important things in life. Cam?”

  In that split second I knew I was a goner, and in a state of panic I happened to notice a potted plant a few feet away. Launching myself toward it, I knelt over that poor piece of decorative vegetation and elegantly and ceremoniously tossed my cooki
es. It was a strange new sensation, having my head inside a ceramic pot with my nose nearly touching the dirt. There is always a sense of humiliation when one has any sort of bodily function in front of another person, but vomiting on national television was a new low, even for me. Trent threw the show to commercial as quickly as possible, and Cole was suddenly on his knees next to me.

  “I’m fine,” I blurted before he even had a chance to say anything. “Utterly and completely humiliated, but otherwise fine. I can’t believe that just happened.” A tear slid down my cheek, and I straightened up as some poor crew member came to pick up that potted plant. Struggling to rise to my feet, Cole grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me up, looking at me with concern.

  “Let’s cancel everything,” he told me, staring deeply into my eyes as I bit my lip and tried desperately not to breathe on him.

  “It’s too late for that,” I stated. “What’s done is done, and I honestly feel fine now. My nerves just got to me, I guess.”

  “Do we need medical?” Trent asked from behind Cole, stepping up to peer down at me. “You never get a second chance to make a first impression, am I right, Camdyn? Wow, you made one heck of an impression.”

  “I don’t see how that’s helpful,” Cole complained.

  “Can you go on?” Trent wanted to know. I nodded slowly, even though the biggest part of me wanted to simply run for the hills. Within seconds we were seated on that couch again, and the makeup was being smeared all over my face to adjust for the fact that I was slightly green. Cole took my hand firmly in his as they began that countdown again.

  “So sorry about that, folks,” Trent told the camera. “We had a bit of a situation, but it seems everything is fine now. So Camdyn, with all the previous speculation that C.W. Oliver was a man, did you have a lot of fun with that since you knew the secret?”

  “I don’t know if fun is the right word, but I definitely found it interesting and a little intriguing. People had such elaborate ways of trying to figure out the identity of C.W. Oliver, and I’m honestly surprised that no one came to the correct conclusion. There were certainly times when I was lousy at hiding it.”