by Tara Leigh
It took a couple of miles to get there, but when I did, I felt invincible, unstoppable. Exactly the headspace I needed to be in to win over the cynical industry execs tomorrow morning.
Otherwise my head would be buzzing with worried thoughts. I could only imagine what they’d heard about me. Or worse—what they’d seen.
I ran and ran and ran.
And when finally the burn in my legs and my chest were too painful to ignore, I pumped up the speed and ran another mile.
At least, I would have, if MOM didn’t suddenly appear on my phone, cutting off the music coming through my ear buds. “Damn it.”
I slammed the emergency stop button and accepted her FaceTime call, wiping my sweaty skin with a towel. “Hi—”
“Where are you?”
“I’m working out. What’s up?” I would have preferred to ignore her, but I’d learned that the only way to keep physical distance between us was to be reachable by phone.
“I can see that, but I asked where you were.”
“I’m in New York.”
The image wobbled, as if she’d grabbed her device, and then my screen was filled with a close-up of my mother’s face, an age-progressed replica of my own. “What are you doing in New York?”
“I told you, just a few meetings to see what’s out there right now.” I uncapped my S’well bottle and took a long drink.
“You’re going to see Jack, I hope.”
Jack Lester. I nearly spit out my water. “No, I’m not.”
“Well, I don’t understand why you wouldn’t. Millie called me the other day, she—”
“Millie called you?” I clutched my stomach, the water I’d barely managed to swallow transforming into curdled milk.
“Yes. Such a sweet girl. She said Jack is developing another show and that you would be perfect for it.”
“Absolutely not.”
Her features hardened. “Verity, I have been more than patient with you, but I am not only your mother, I am your manager. It’s time for you to get back to work.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” I interjected, then immediately regretted it. I hadn’t told my mother that I signed with Travis Taggert. And I wasn’t going to—until I had a contract in my hands and money in a bank account without her name on it. My mother couldn’t know I was taking control of my own career, of my own life. Yet.
I had planned my escape as meticulously as an abused wife fleeing her monster of a husband.
“That’s it, I’m getting on the next plane. You can’t make important decisions without me.”
I already have. “Mom, that’s ridiculous. I’m not making decisions, I just want to show my face around, let people know I’m ready to get back to work. I’ll let you know how it goes, and we can strategize next steps.” I’d already warned Travis that those next steps might involve sending my mother a cease-and-desist letter when she found out she’d been fired.
She squinted at me. “Well, if you run into Jack and Millie, be nice. They’ve been so good to you, Verity, and I think Millie feels like you’ve taken them for granted.”
“Once day I’ll be sure to let them know just how grateful I am, don’t worry.” I nearly choked over the words. “But I don’t think I’ll run into them here.”
“Why not? They’re in New York right now, too.”
Blood rushed to my head and I flung out a hand to grip the treadmill’s sidebar. “What?”
“They’re showing a new script to the networks, I think. Or maybe they’re trying to lock down a record label first.” She shook her head and sighed. “One or the other, I can’t remember which.”
The urge to reach through my phone and choke her was almost overwhelming. “I—I really have to take a shower now. I’ll let you know how things go.”
“You do that,” she said.
Anxiety spiraled through my nerves as I sat down on the floor and leaned against the side of the treadmill. I opened my browser window, my trembling fingers managing to get Jack’s name right after several tries. On the second page of my Google search, I found what I was looking for. An article about his new project—another music-driven show-within-a-show concept. Just like his last—the one I’d starred in a few years ago.
I’d move into a homeless shelter before I accepted a role in one of Jack’s productions ever again.
I hauled myself to my feet and left the gym, bypassing the elevator in favor of the stairs even though my sneakers felt like they’d been made of lead. I was a sweaty mess, and the thought of someone’s eyes scraping my skin was painful.
My mind was untethered, bouncing from Dax to Jack and the ghosts of boyfriends past that called Manhattan home, painful memories twisting my stomach into knots. With each step, I felt pulled backward through time, felt the touch and press of unwanted hands, the harsh male cackle of intimidation assaulting my ears. My lungs tightened, each of my short, shallow breaths echoing against the cement.
Needing a distraction, I pulled my phone back out of my pocket and opened the app I had used with Dax. I might as well admit that I hadn’t actually guessed his sign. The fact was, ever since Travis had floated the idea of me opening for Nothing But Trouble’s next tour, I had done my homework. Dax was born on April first. April Fool’s Day. It had stuck in my memory. But the man I met in the elevator was no fool, even if he didn’t know anything about the zodiac.
You have a lot on your mind and the secrets you keep are preventing you from thinking clearly. To move forward, you must learn to let go of the past.
I read my own horoscope three times before shoving my phone back in my pocket. Maybe it really was nothing but a crock. True, I had a lot on my mind, and plenty of secrets to keep, but I was definitely moving forward.
Because there was no way in hell I was going back.
About the Author
TARA LEIGH attended Washington University in St. Louis and Columbia Business School in New York, and worked on Wall Street and Main Street before “retiring” to become a wife and mother. When the people in her head became just as real as the people in her life, she decided to put their stories on paper. Tara currently lives in Fairfield County, Connecticut, with her husband, children, and fur-baby, Pixie. She is represented by Jessica Alvarez of BookEnds.
Learn more at:
www.taraleighbooks.com
Twitter @TaraLeighBooks
Facebook.com/TaraLeighAuthor
Also by Tara Leigh
The Nothing but Trouble Series
Rock King
The Billionaire Bosses Series
Penthouse Player
Deal Breaker
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