by Elks, Carrie
She felt something else, too. The strength she’d been searching for all day. It hadn’t disappeared forever, it was just hiding for a while. Licking its wounds while it thought about its next move. She felt her spine straighten. Not enough for it to be visibly noticeable, but it was there.
She was sick of moping and being the victim. That wasn’t her. Not any more.
“Can I get a raincheck for the movie?” she asked her sister. “Because I have something else to do first.”
“What?” Ashleigh smiled, bemused.
“I need to book a ticket. I’m going to L.A. to meet Gray.”
* * *
“Okay, so let’s go over this one more time,” Angie, his PR consultant said, looking down at the notes she’d made on her phone. “We’ve agreed that you’ll talk about the upcoming album, your hand, and of course about you and Maddie, but there’s to be no mention of Brad Rickson and his involvement in the tape. Not while the record company is still consulting their lawyers.”
“And if Dan O’Leary asks me about him?”
“He’s agreed not to. It’s only a five minute segment. When it’s complete, you’ll perform Along the River.” She smiled at him. “Without your guitar, of course.”
“We’ve got a great lead guitarist to play for you,” Marco told him. “Alex Drummond. You know him, right?”
“I’ve toured with him.”
“Excellent. You guys will have some rehearsal time before the show starts. You need to be at the studio by six.”
“And before that, you’ll meet Rich Charles from Rock Magazine,” Angie told him. “He’s joining you for an early dinner. That gives us an hour. Shall we go through some questions again?” she asked, smiling brightly. “I could record us and we can watch you back if that helps?”
No, it wouldn’t help. Not one little bit.
The fact is, he didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be in a little town about two-and-a-half thousand miles away, leaning on the counter of a diner that served the worst eggs in the country. He wanted to be watching the pretty woman behind it. To be catching her eye.
He wanted what he had. Now that he was back in L.A., he felt the loss keenly.
It hadn’t helped that when he arrived at LAX last night he’d been greeted by a throng of paparazzi. Flash bulbs had momentarily blinded him as he pushed his way through to the exit, aware of the bodyguard the record company had hired standing right behind him. Gray wasn’t a small man, not at six-three, but the protective giant had dwarfed him.
And he hated that he needed that protection.
He checked his phone to see if Maddie had replied to the text he’d sent earlier, but the message was still unread. He frowned, then tapped out a message to Becca asking if everything was okay in Hartson’s Creek.
Her reply came back fast. Yeah. Most of the press have gone. Murphy started threatening to cook them breakfast – I think that’s what finally scattered them.
“You okay?” Marco asked him.
Gray sighed. “Yeah, I’m okay. I just wish this would go away. That the press would leave me alone.”
“It’s the price you pay,” Marco reminded him. “It’s never worried you before.”
“Maybe I’ve changed.”
Marco forced a smile. “Let’s hope you haven’t changed too much. Your fans like you the way you are. By tomorrow you’ll be yesterday’s news. Just go on the O’Leary show, say what we agreed, and Angie will do the rest.”
And then what? That was the question. Ever since that video had gone viral, he’d had a griping pain in the pit of his stomach. He only had to think of Maddie’s face when she looked at her phone to know how devastated she was at her secret getting out. Even if the press stopped talking about it, the good folks of Hartson’s Creek wouldn’t. Thanks to him, Maddie was going to have to live with that.
There was another thought going through his head. One that made that gripe turn into actual pain. What if this was all too much for her? What if she decided she didn’t want to be in the spotlight? That she’d rather keep under the radar than be with him?
He gritted his teeth at the thought of it. These few weeks with her, they’d been life-changing. She’d shown him another way of living. One that didn’t involve constant touring and paparazzi and meaningless relationships. Maddie was the real deal, and she was the only one who saw into his soul.
Losing her could kill him.
Marco’s phone buzzed. “Your car’s here,” he told Gray. “We’ll head over to the restaurant a little early. It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”
Gray said goodbye to Angie and followed Marco out of the conference room. The hallway was wide, the walls covered in posters and golden discs, and Gray raised an eyebrow when he saw his latest one there.
“Gray,” a voice called. “Can I talk to you?”
He looked up to see a woman of around thirty walking toward him. Her hair was cut short and dyed platinum. With her drainpipe jeans and skin-tight black band tee, she fit right in around here.
“Not now, Rae,” Marco said. Then under his breath, he muttered to Gray, “That’s Brad Rickson’s manager.”
“It won’t take long, Marco. Brad would like to talk to Gray for a moment.” She raised her eyebrows. “To apologize.”
“I’ve got nothing to say to him,” Gray told her, fire rising up inside him. “And it isn’t me he needs to apologize to.”
“He’d like to set up a meeting with Maddie, too.” Rae’s smile was conciliatory. “He’s aware of how much he messed up when he was a kid and he’s disgusted by it all. He’s as upset as you are that it’s leaked. It had to be somebody from the school they both went to.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Marco said firmly. “Thank you, but no.”
“It was years ago,” Rae protested as they passed her by. “Are you really going to let his career be ruined over this? It was a prank gone wrong. A bad judgment. Haven’t we all made those? Come on, at least talk to him. Man to man.”
Gray whipped around, his eyes blazing. “He’s not a fucking man, he’s an asshole. And I don’t deal with assholes, full stop. If you’re his manager, then I advise you to keep him away from me, unless you want to manage a dead singer.”
“Gray,” Marco murmured, patting his arm. “Keep calm.”
“He ruined Maddie’s life, did you know that?” Gray told her. “She left Ansell because of him. Abandoned her musical career. So don’t ask me to feel sorry that his career is ruined. He deserves so much more than that.”
“Everything okay?” Liam, his security detail, asked, coming out of the elevator. “The car’s still waiting down there and the coast is clear.”
“We’re coming now,” Marco assured him, steering Gray down the hallway.
“Call me if you change your mind,” Rae shouted out at their retreating backs. “Marco has my number.”
“We’re not calling her,” Gray muttered as they walked into the open elevator. “Not now and not ever.”
“Of course we’re not.” Marco nodded. “Come on, let’s go talk to some journalists. Start setting the record straight.”
* * *
It had been less than two months since Gray sang in front of an audience like this, but it felt like a lifetime spanned between then and now. He felt bare without his guitar. He leaned into the microphone, his good hand curling around the stem as he looked out at the crowd.
They were on his side. He knew that from the moment they’d applauded wildly as soon as Dan O’Leary had called his name. They’d cheered again when he told them that Brad Rickson was an asshole, although Dan had apologized profusely for Gray’s language.
“It’s the only thing I can think of at the moment that won’t get you kicked off air,” Gray had told him. “And I don’t want that to happen.”
The audience had laughed, and he’d known he had them. He wondered if Maddie was watching the show at Ashleigh’s house. He hoped she was.
It had been Angie’s suggestion that
he sing one of his most popular songs. “Now’s not the time to be trying out your new stuff,” she told him. “You want the fans to connect with you right away; both the ones in the audience and the ones at home. Give them something they can sing along to. Help them bond with you.”
There was only one song he really wanted to sing. The one he’d sung in front of her. And that night at the Moonlight Bar he hadn’t even realized how he felt about her. Hadn’t understood that every word he sang was for her.
But now he knew.
The guitarist strummed the intro, and the audience began clapping again. He looked out at them, and then at the camera, willing Maddie to be looking back at him.
Then he felt the adrenaline surge. It was like a drug rushing through his veins. His heart started beating to the rhythm of the drummer, and all those thoughts, those worries, they dissolved into the air, the music taking over.
“Remember when we were kids?” He kept his eyes on the camera.
His voice was deep and smooth. Somebody had once told him he could sing the panties off a nun. He’d laughed, but right now he wanted to sing into her heart. If that made him soft he didn’t care.
“And everything we did? The days we spent at school right by the river.”
He could hear the backup singers right with him, their harmonies melting into his.
“The day that love died. And everybody cried. We held each other tight by the river.”
God, he wanted to hold her again. To feel the softness of her chest against his hard planes. To stroke her hair and feel its silky tendrils twisting between his fingers. With every word he sang, his heart ached because now he knew what those words meant.
He knew what love was. And he wanted to sing it to the world.
When the song came to an end, the audience sprung to their feet and clapped wildly, whistles echoing through the studio. Dan O’Leary was clapping, too, a huge smile on his face as he walked over to thank Gray. A moment later, he turned to face the camera and segued into the commercial break.
Then they were off-air and it was over. The adrenaline remained, though, making Gray’s movements a little jerky.
“You were amazing. The audience loved you,” Dan told him, shaking his hand. “Come back soon, okay?”
“That sounds good.” Gray nodded.
“And for what it’s worth, I’ve met Brad Rickson and he is an asshole.” Dan gave him a wry smile. “I hope he gets what’s coming to him.”
Gray didn’t linger in the studio. After thanking the band and the production staff, Liam hustled him and Marco toward the stage door. As it opened, he could see people everywhere. Fans crowding around, desperate to get a look at him. When they saw him walk out, they began to chant his name.
“There’s too many people,” Liam said to Marco. “We’ll need to get him straight to the car.”
“No.” Gray shook his head. “I always make time for my fans.”
Marco shrugged. “It’s up to you. Ten minutes, okay? And if there’s any trouble we get out of here.”
Gray spoke to as many of them as he could, posing for selfies, signing posters. When they got too close, Liam would shuffle between them, pushing them back. Gray’s cheeks were aching from smiling, and his hand was throbbing like a bitch. Still, he continued to make his way through, thanking them for all their support and for being there.
It was overwhelming. Maybe that’s why he almost missed her standing there in the street..
She was hanging at the back, an amused grin on her face as he looked up at her. Her warm eyes met his, it felt like he was being enveloped in a blanket of good feelings.
“Maddie?”
“Hey.” She grinned at him. The first thing he noticed was that the red rims around her eyes were gone. Where her mouth had been tight with worry the last time they were together, there now was an ease.
And damn if he didn’t want to kiss those lips.
“What are you doing here?”
She shrugged, still smiling. “I kind of missed you.”
Thank Christ. “I kind of missed you, too.” His voice was rough. Not just from the singing. There was a lump in his throat he couldn’t quite clear.
“Gray! Can I talk to you?”
His smile disappeared when he saw Brad Rickson walking toward them. His first instinct was to step in front of her, to shield her from the asshole. He looked around to see where Liam was.
Thank god, he was right behind them.
A murmur came from the crowd. From the corner of his eye, Gray could see them lifting their phones to record the scene.
“Liam, we need to go,” he muttered.
“I’m on it.”
“What’s going on?” Maddie asked, grabbing his arm. She must have seen Brad right after, because Gray heard her gasp.
“It’s okay. We’re leaving. You don’t have to talk to him.”
“Is that Maddie?” Brad asked, pushing his way toward them. “Maddie, I need to talk to you. You need to tell everyone it’s a misunderstanding.”
“Get out of here,” Gray said, his voice ominously quiet. “Don’t say a word to her.”
“She’s a fucking freak.” Brad’s voice rose up. “Everybody at school said so. She’s nothing. Nobody. So why the hell is she ruining my career?”
Gray’s hands curled into fists. “Get out,” he growled. “Before I fucking slay you.”
“Let’s get you out of here.” Liam put his hand on Gray’s arm, but he shrugged him off.
“Get Maddie out. I’m okay.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Maddie told him. “Not without you.”
“Jesus, she’s doing it again. She was fucking clingy with me, too.” Brad shook his head. “I hope she’s a better lay now than she was when I was with her.”
He stepped forward, his good arm pulling back to give his punch enough impact. But before his hand could connect with Brad’s jaw, Maddie was stepping in front of him. Gray had to stagger back to avoid hitting her.
Then Brad was stumbling backward, a shocked expression on his face. It was only when Maddie cursed and cradled her fist that Gray realized she’d hit Brad herself.
There were phones everywhere, being held up and pointed at the three of them. Liam stepped between Maddie and Brad, who was standing completely still, as though he was dazed. “Miss Clark, we need to get you and Mr. Hartson out of here.”
Maddie nodded. She looked pretty dazed herself. “Okay.”
Liam hustled the three of them through the crowd, then opened the door of the black town car that was waiting at the end of the street. Maddie climbed in first, followed by Gray and Marco. Liam walked around to get into the front seat.
“Okay,” Liam told the driver. “We can go.” He turned to look at Maddie. “Unless the lady wants to take another swing at Mr. Rickson.”
Chapter Thirty
The corners of Gray’s eyes crinkled up as he grinned at her. “I’ve been messaging you all day. Now I know why you didn’t reply.”
“I replied when I arrived in LAX, but you were probably in the studio by then,” she told him. She was still shocked from seeing Brad again. From hitting him. It was like she was in some kind of dream.
It hurt to move her hand. She winced when she tried.
“Let me take a look,” Gray murmured, reaching for her hand. He touched it gently with his own good one. “Does it hurt?”
“Yeah. Like a bitch.” She raised her eyebrows.
“You should have let me hit him.”
“And had you ruin your remaining good hand? I don’t think so.”
His eyes were soft and warm. “I’d have done it for you.”
“I know you would’ve. But I’m glad I hit him. He had it coming. Has for years.”
Gray’s lips twitched. “You should have seen his face. It was a freaking picture.”
She tried – and failed – to swallow down her laugh. “I saw it.”
“Well you’ll be pleased to hear it’s been recorded for poste
rity,” Marco said, not sounding amused at all. “It’s all over social media. So much for stopping this story in its tracks.”
Marco’s phone began to buzz and he let out a sigh. “That’s Angie. She’s going to be pissed.”
As he answered the phone, Gray gently folded his fingers around Maddie’s aching hand. “We should take you to the hospital,” he told her.
“Nothing’s broken. I can move it. There’ll just be a bruise,” she whispered.
He lifted it up and brushed his lips against her palm. “Better safe than sorry.”
“I’ll call a doctor to come to your house,” Marco said, covering his phone with his hand. “Probably best to stay out of the public eye for now.” He shook his head and went back to his conversation.
It took half an hour to get to Gray’s sprawling home, overlooking the Malibu coast. Even at this time of night, the L.A. traffic was nose to tail. Maddie blinked as the car swung through the open electric gates, her eyes widening as she took in the low-level white stuccoed house. It was modern and sleek and nothing like the houses in Hartson’s Creek. She couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by it.
Liam went in first to check the house. Two minutes later, he came back out of the front door and leaned into the car. “Everything’s clear. You both have a good evening.”
“And try not to hit anybody else tonight, okay? Unless it’s Gray, in which case you have my full approval.” Marco grinned at Maddie.
Gray laughed and shook his head.
They climbed out of the car and onto Gray’s graveled driveway.
The first thing she noticed was the sound of the waves crashing against the sand below. She could smell the salty tang of the ocean, along with the sweet fragrance of the jasmine lining the pathway. Gray slung her bag over his shoulder and slid his arm around her, leading her up the steps.
They walked inside and the driver started the engine again, driving back out through the gates, taking Liam and Marco with him. Maddie was surprised at how quiet it was up here. Once the sound of the car had disappeared there was nothing except the ocean and her heartbeat.