Turn the Page

by Logan, Sydney

  Jolie lifted the lid. Nestled in the velvet case was a sterling silver necklace. A small pendant in the shape of musical note dangled from the chain.

  “I thought you could wear it,” he said, “and whenever you’re missing me, you could look at it, or touch it, and remember that I’m thinking about you every single second of the day, and that I love you with all my heart.”

  Jolie’s eyes filled with tears as she turned around, giving him the chance to fasten the chain around her neck. He let his fingers trail softly against the skin of her neck before placing a soft kiss there.

  She turned back around and smiled.

  “I love it. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  “I have something for you, too. It’s kind of silly, though.” Jolie reached down into her bag and pulled out two matching journals. “I know you’ll be busy, but I thought maybe we could write to each other. You know, like love letters? Only we’ll save them and read them when you come home. I know you’ll probably be too busy and that’s okay—”

  Corbin silenced her with a tender kiss.

  “I’ll write you every night. I promise.”

  Jolie smiled softly, but her face fell when Corbin glanced at his watch.

  “I should probably go. Who knows how long it’ll take to get through security.”

  Corbin took her hand as she walked with him toward the security gate. When they’d gone as far as she was allowed, he lowered his guitar case to the floor and pulled her into his arms, hugging her so tight she could barely breathe.

  For just a moment, her strength faltered.

  I could beg him to stay.

  He’d said so, just last night. She could beg him not to go, and they’d get right back in the car and drive home.

  Corbin pressed his forehead to hers. The tortured expression on his face mirrored her own.

  “Tell me to stay,” he whispered.

  She’d never seen him so petrified. Scared of failing. Scared of relapsing. Corbin kept saying he was doing this for them—for their future—and Jolie knew that was true. But she also knew that he needed to do this. For him. Making it through this tour would give him the confidence he needed to be a better songwriter. And a better man.

  Jolie knew that for the next few minutes, she was going to have to be the strong one.

  “I am so proud of you,” she whispered. “You can do this. I believe it, even if you don’t. You are going to go out there, do your shows, and come home to me. If you get lonely, call me. If you get sad, call me. If you want a drink, call me. I will always, always pick up the phone. And if you need me, I will call Karin, and she’ll get me a plane ticket. You are not alone. I love you, and you are going to be amazing.”

  With a soft sigh, Corbin pulled her face to his, kissing her with so much urgency it nearly made her weep. But she would not cry. Not yet.

  “Tell me to stay,” he said again.

  “Tell me to let you go.”

  “Never.”

  Jolie smiled. “You got that right. Never. I love you, Corbin James. Now get your cute ass on that plane. Don’t look back. Call me as soon you land.”

  “I will. I love you, Jolie.”

  They kissed once more before he picked up his guitar case and headed toward the security gate. She’d told him not to look back, and to her great relief—and disappointment—he did exactly as she asked.

  With tears stinging her eyes, Jolie watched him go until he was completely out of sight.

  Desperate to get to her car so she could weep in peace, Jolie quickly turned around, slamming right into someone’s broad chest. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her. She blinked back her tears to focus on the man’s face.

  “Dad? What are you . . . I mean, how—”

  “Keith dropped me off,” he said gently. “Corbin didn’t want you to be alone today. That boy really loves you, Jolie.”

  Overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotions coursing through her, Jolie began to sob.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home. I hear you have a promise to keep.”

  The bank.

  With a determined nod, Jolie wiped away her tears, and she held her father’s hand as the two of them walked out of the airport.

  “Jolie? This is a surprise.”

  “Good morning, Patrick. Do you have a minute?”

  “Of course. Have a seat.”

  Jolie sat down in the offered chair and forced a smile at her loan officer. She wasn’t stupid. She knew Patrick and Gavin Massey were best friends. Gavin liked to brag that he kept his ear to the ground when it came to foreclosed properties, but Jolie knew that ear had a name, and his name was Patrick O’Brien. That’s how Gavin had managed to get a copy of Turn the Page’s financial records.

  “What can I do for you, Jolie?”

  Maybe I should’ve let Dad come in with me.

  He’d offered, but Jolie had wanted to handle Patrick on her own. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the necklace Corbin had given her, praying it’d keep her calm and give her strength.

  She reached into her pocket. “I have something for you.”

  Her heart had beaten wildly as she stood in front of the teller and wrote out the check just a moment ago. Candace, the sweet bank teller, had offered to simply transfer the money from their joint checking account to the bookstore’s account, but Jolie wanted the paper trail. She also wanted to see the expression on Patrick’s face when she paid off her debt.

  “This should cover my back payments,” she said. “And I’d like a receipt.”

  Patrick’s eyes widened as he stared at the check in his hands. “How did you? I mean . . . this is wonderful, Jolie. But how did you manage—”

  “I don’t believe that’s any of your business. I would like a receipt and a written statement that my store is now out of default and in good standing.”

  “Jolie, I’m afraid it’s not that simple. This is a lot of money. I’ll need to verify the source of funds to ensure the check clears. You understand, surely.”

  “Oh, I do understand. That’s why I have this statement from Candace, your bank teller, with my checking account number and the balance. This should be all you need to confirm that the money is in my account, right here in your bank.”

  Stunned speechless, Patrick slowly typed the account number into his computer. The shocked expression on his face made Jolie smile.

  “As I said, I would like a receipt and a written statement that confirms that my store is out of default and in good standing. Please.”

  He cleared his throat. “Of course, Jolie. I’ll just need a moment.”

  “Take your time.

  Thick silence filled the air as Patrick printed off her receipt and an updated bank statement. She quickly scanned both before folding them up and placing them in her bag.

  “I’m glad you found a way to make this work, Jolie. Your bookstore is such an asset to our community.”

  “Thank you. I think so, too.” She stood to go, but before she walked out, she turned back around. “Oh, and be sure to call your buddy Gavin to let him know that my bookstore is no longer on the chopping block.”

  Patrick chuckled nervously and fidgeted with his tie.

  “I would never discuss your account with Gavin or anyone else. That’s against bank policy.”

  “Right. I’m also requesting a new loan officer. Have a nice day.”

  She couldn’t hide her smile as she walked out of the bank and back to the car. Her dad sat behind the wheel, and his proud smile matched her own.

  “Looks like things went well.”

  “Things went great.”

  “Good. Now let’s get you home.”

  As they drove back to her dad’s house, the exhaustion and emotions of the day finally caught up with her, and she suddenly started to cry. Thomas, ill-equipped to deal with his daughter’s meltdown, broke the speed limit to get them home.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as they pulled into the driveway.


  “Don’t be sorry. Let’s get you inside.”

  She sniffled softly. “I’d like to go home, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure. I’ll take you home.”

  “Dad, you don’t have to. I can drive myself.”

  “I don’t want you to be alone today, Jolie.”

  With a smile, Jolie leaned over and kissed her dad’s cheek.

  “I’m just going to take a nap, anyway. I’ll be okay. If I need company, I’ll call. Thanks for being here.”

  “No place I’d rather be. Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  Thomas sighed heavily and gazed at his daughter. “I’m really proud of you, Jolie.”

  “I didn’t do anything. This was all Corbin.”

  “I’m proud of you both. Promise to call if you need me?”

  “I promise.”

  She loved her dad, and she appreciated him being there today, but now she wanted some privacy. She’d be strong tomorrow. She’d be brave tomorrow. But for today, Jolie was going to let herself cry until she was all cried out, and she needed to do it alone.

  Most importantly, she needed to get it all out of her system before Corbin called from California.

  As Jolie walked into the house, she was overwhelmed with how still and quiet it seemed. She could feel his absence everywhere. In the kitchen. In the bedroom. Even in the bathroom, where she found his still-damp towel hanging from the rack. They’d showered together just hours ago, but she found herself slipping out of her clothes and turning on the water. When the temp was right, she climbed in, letting the warmth invade her bones and ease her tired mind.

  She smiled when she saw Corbin’s body wash, and she wondered if he’d left it behind on purpose.

  If he can’t be here, at least I can smell like him.

  After her shower, she dressed in one of the T-shirts he’d left behind and climbed into bed. With her cell phone in one hand and a book in another, she snuggled under the blanket. Corbin’s sweet scent surrounded her, thanks to his body wash and his pillow, and she’d nearly dozed off when she heard her phone.

  “Corbin?”

  “Hi, sweet girl.”

  “Hey. How was your flight?”

  “It was okay. I’m in a cab now. Headed to the hotel. How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Really?”

  “No, but I took a shower and now I smell like you. That helps.”

  “I was hoping you’d use it. I stole your lotion.”

  “My lotion?” Jolie looked at her bedside table. Sure enough, her strawberry lotion was gone. “So I smell like a guy and you smell like a girl. We’re pretty pathetic.”

  “Nah. Just in love.”

  She smiled.

  “Corbin, thanks for sending my dad. I didn’t know how much I’d need him.”

  “You’re welcome. I just couldn’t stand the thought of you driving back home by yourself. Did you make it to the bank?”

  “Yes. Everything’s taken care of. I told Patrick I wanted a new loan officer.”

  “That’s my girl.” Corbin sighed softly. “I hate to hang up already, but we’re at the hotel. I need to check-in and meet Karin in an hour.”

  “It’s okay. Can you call later?”

  “Absolutely.” His voice was tinged with sadness. “I love you, Jolie. You have no idea how hard it was to board that plane.”

  “As hard as it was to watch you leave, I imagine. But we’re going to be okay.”

  “I know. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

  “Okay. I love you.”

  After they hung up, Jolie waited for the tears to come, but they never did. Proud of herself for holding it together, she decided to go to the bookstore to do some paperwork. Now that her store was out of financial ruin, maybe doing the books wouldn’t be such a miserable chore. Besides, she wanted to stay busy, and getting lost in numbers would certainly keep her mind occupied, at least for a few hours.

  Just like the house, Jolie felt his absence as soon as she walked inside the bookstore. She locked the door behind her and started to walk toward her office, but her feet and her heart must’ve had other ideas, because when she looked up, she found herself standing in front of the History shelf.

  With a sorrowful sigh, Jolie slid her fingers along the books before falling to her knees and resting back against the shelf. She closed her eyes and recalled, in heartbreaking detail, every passionate moment of their lovemaking in that very spot just a few nights ago.

  And now he was gone.

  Corbin would come home. She was sure of that. But would he come back healthy? Would he come back sober? Jolie hadn’t allowed herself to think about those questions because they terrified her so much. He was risking everything—his health, his sobriety, his peace of mind—just for her and their future.

  Was it worth the risk?

  She prayed it was.

  The tears came then . . . hard and fast and completely devastating, until she couldn’t do anything but pull her knees to her chest and allow her misery to swallow her whole.

  “Excellent interview, Corbin. Good luck with the tour.”

  “Thanks.”

  Corbin shook the reporter’s hand before taking a long drink from his water bottle. It was his fifth interview of the afternoon, and he was bored out of his mind.

  As soon as the guy was gone, Karin was instantly by his side.

  “Fantastic job, Corbin.”

  “You’ve said that every time.”

  “I mean it every time.”

  “But I’m saying the same crap. Same questions. Same answers.”

  “And you’re doing it spectacularly. Ready for a break?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Follow me.”

  Karin had been an angel throughout his first week in Los Angeles. Constantly at his side and leading him to wherever he needed to go next. Corbin breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that, right now, she was leading him straight to the sanctuary of his hotel room.

  “I know it gets tedious,” Karin said as they sat down on the couch. “But you’re doing a great job.”

  “Doesn’t feel that way, but thanks.”

  She grinned as she scrolled through her phone. “This will cheer you up. Someone’s getting rave reviews for his acoustic performance at The Cork Lounge.”

  Last night, Karin had invited Corbin to dinner at one of her favorite restaurants in Sherman Oaks. Or so he thought. Instead, Karin practically dragged him up on stage and told him to play two songs. Corbin nearly puked, but he did it. He played his two songs—one old, one new—and when he was done, the crowd went wild.

  “I seriously considered firing you last night.”

  Karin grinned. “Whatever. You needed a practice session. And you were awesome. The guys loved the music, and the women loved you.”

  Once upon a time, those words would have thrilled Corbin. But, if last night’s impromptu concert taught him anything, it was that something in his soul had changed over the past five years. While he’d never loved the stage, he always managed to get lost in the lyrics, in the melody, in the audience, and forget everything else. At the end of his shows, he’d always felt wired and energized. Ready to party. Ready for girls. Ready for anything.

  But last night was different.

  When he walked off that stage, Corbin had felt nothing but relief that it was over.

  “Maybe you just need some time to readjust,” Jolie had told him last night on the phone. And maybe she was right. But for the life of him, Corbin couldn’t believe that his younger self had ever loved this life. The bright lights and screaming fans had been nice for his ego, but it held zero appeal to him now.

  That’s probably not something you want to share with your manager.

  “I’m booking you at The Troubadour on Friday night,” Karin said.

  “Another practice session?”

  She nodded. “Small venue. Full set. Are you up for it?”

  “Do I have a choice?�
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  “Not really, because next week, the label wants you to join Indie Fest in Oklahoma City. You’ll be opening for some big names. If you have stage fright, we need to work through it before you get there.”

  “I don’t have stage fright.”

  “Really? Because you almost threw up last night.”

  “I’m not afraid of the stage. I’m afraid of being booed off stage.”

  “Which didn’t happen. And it won’t. We need to work on your confidence, which is why The Troubadour is a great venue. I’m booking it. Don’t argue.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  With a grin, Karin typed out a text.

  “Oh, I got another call from Ashton Rhodes.”

  Corbin grimaced. The record label exec had been a thorn in his side ever since he arrived in California. Thankfully, he hadn’t had to deal with her much. Karin handled it all.

  “You’re getting a tour bus, and the band will be here in a few days. They’re picking us up on the way to OKC.”

  “Sweet. Wait . . . us?”

  “Yes. I’m going out on the road with you.”

  It wasn’t unusual for managers to travel with the artist, but since Karin owned the agency, Corbin just assumed she’d have more important things to handle back in Nashville.

  “You must really not trust me,” he muttered.

  “Why? Because I’m willing to travel on a tour bus with you for three months?”

  Corbin nodded.

  Karin sighed. “I won’t lie. I do want to keep an eye on things. But it’s not because I don’t trust you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know. Don’t worry about it.” Karin glanced down at her phone. “By the way, I’m supposed to remind you that, in your interviews, the label would like for you to appear to be available. Ashton seems to think women won’t flock backstage if they know you have a girlfriend.”

  “From what I recall, women like that don’t usually care if you have a girlfriend or not.”

  “That’s exactly what I said, but I told her I’d pass it along.”

  “I won’t lie about having a girlfriend.”

  “And I don’t think you should.”

  “Good.”

  His manager smiled. “You have one more interview this afternoon. How does a nap sound?”