It was a little wild after we all got down to bathing suits and jumped into the pool, but Candace and I survived all the testosterone and flexing.
Once everyone left and I locked the house and set the alarm, I got to try my wings out at being alone—really alone. I hated it. Within an hour, I was ready to jump in my car and drive back to our little place in the historic district, but I knew what I’d walk in on and I simply couldn’t handle that. I laid down in the silence, but it was driving me crazy. I finally got up and found the stereo and turned on the music and went back to bed. Drowning out the silence was preferred, but I still couldn’t sleep. Somewhere around five in the morning, I slipped into unconsciousness. Two hours later, I was having coffee and watching the morning sky, ripple across the hills.
I didn’t see Ryan and Candace until late Saturday evening when they came over to swim, but I could tell Ryan was studying my face. I knew he wanted to corner me and ask how I slept last night, but I made sure he didn’t get the opportunity.
Saturday night was no better and I simply couldn’t, no matter the exhaustion level, get to sleep. I went out and did laps in the pool until I was so weak I could hardly drag myself from the water, but within an hour of dozing off, I was awake again. This was driving me insane. Before I met Micah, I didn’t have trouble sleeping. After Micah, it was as if my ability to close my eyes stayed with him when I ran away.
I met Ryan and Candace for church, but I had to use extra makeup to cover the dark circles that were starting to form under my eyes. I had to get some sleep tonight because I was flying out Tuesday for L.A. and at the rate I was going I would never be able to perform. I was going to have to break down and buy a bottle of sleeping pills.
I went to the pharmacy after church and found an over-the-counter sleep aid and went home. I took two pills and laid down for a nap, I knew I’d have no trouble drifting off, but it was staying that way I needed help with. I woke two and a half hours later. They helped but now I was lethargic and unwilling to get up even though I was awake. I stayed on the couch for another hour and then got up and trudged around the house with no ambition to do anything. Ty, Andy, Ryan, and Candace showed a little bit later as we played pool and darts and they tried to talk me in to going out with them to the bistro.
“Nah, not tonight. I’ve got to get a good night’s sleep. I’m heading out for L.A. early Tuesday morning.”
Since it was only Sunday night they couldn’t understand my dilemma, but I knew Ryan did. He sent them out to the car to wait for him as he finally asked me the question I’d been dreading.
“Are you sleeping?”
“I will be after you get out of here,” I dodged.
“Leese, there isn’t enough makeup in Colorado to hide those dark circles under your eyes. How about if I talk Candace into letting me—”
“Absolutely not! She’s insecure enough when it comes to you, I don’t need to send her over the edge. Besides, I bought some sleeping pills today and I managed a decent nap, so they should work for tonight, too.”
“Prescription?”
“No, just some over-the-counter stuff—they helped, honest.”
“I’m coming over after she leaves for school in the morning, and—”
“Is she—is she living with you now?”
His head wobbled slightly as if he didn’t have enough neck muscle to hold it up, “I—yeah, okay, she is. Her dad is really pissed at both of us, but she said she can’t stand being away from me.”
“So how are you sleeping?” I asked, remembering how I found him the first time they slept together.
“Can you keep a secret?”
I leveled my eyes at him.
“Sorry, I know you can keep a secret—she’s a bed hog. You always lie so still and let me cuddle you. She is like all over the place. I think I’ve got like twenty bruises where she elbows me or kicks me. I’ve fallen out of the bed at least twice.”
“Maybe I should give you some of my sleeping pills so you can knock her out and make her be still,” I said with a sleep-deprived giggle.
He kissed my forehead and told me to try for sleep, but he would still see me in the morning—early.
Once the house was locked up tight and the alarm was set, I took three of the sleeping pills and went to bed. It was just after nine when sleep hit me. One a.m., I rolled over wide awake—crap! I tried to go back to sleep, considered more pills, but to tell the truth, I was afraid to keep taking them.
When sleepy-faced Ryan showed at eight thirty, I could tell he needed sleep as badly as I did. He had to be home before two-thirty, so I set the alarm and he and I crawled into my bed, comfortable and secure in each other’s hold. It seemed I barely allowed my eyes to close as five hours passed dreamlessly.
“It can’t be time to get up,” he moaned behind me.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He leaned forward and kissed my neck, “I just wish there was some way I could get over here tonight so you won’t be dead-dog-tired Tuesday.”
“I’ve got an idea. Can I have your shirt?”
“You mean like literally right off my back?”
“Yeah, I’m going to wrap a pillow with your shirt so I can still smell you.”
“Do you really think that’ll work?”
“Hey, it’s worth a try. Besides, I like the way you smell. But you’d better hurry home or Candace is going to wonder why you’re pulling in shirtless.”
“As long as I come home with my pants on, she should be happy,” he teased as he pulled off his shirt and gave it to me.
“Bye, baby girl,” he said, kissing my temple, “I love you.”
And he was gone.
Chapter Eighteen
I flew to L.A. early the next morning and was in studio for my rehearsals by noon. I could see the surprise on a lot of the faces when I appeared without my ebony-haired shadow, but I simply told those bold enough to ask that he stayed in Colorado this time. Carrie was probably the most disappointed, but she didn’t let it stop her from being a thorn in my side. I was too tired to fight with her, so she pretty much walked over me, which delighted her to no end.
One of the stage crew, Thomas, who usually had to play bouncer between us noticed and asked me if I was okay. I thought it was nice of him, but I didn’t want to get too personal so I simply told him I hadn’t gotten much sleep over the last several days.
“Do you have anything to help you go to sleep?” he questioned, looking around to make certain no one was listening to us.
“Yeah, I picked up some Unisom at—”
He gave a small laugh, “That isn’t going to help much. I meant some real sleeping pills.”
“No, I haven’t gone to a doctor if that’s what you—”
“Well, you’re lucky because the doctor is in the house.” He reached into his pocket and produced a small bag of blue capsules. He removed one and pressed it into my hand. “Take that when you get back to your hotel and I guarantee you’ll sleep eight to ten hours no problem.”
I tried to hand it back to him, but he insisted I keep it.
“If it works, then you can lay a little money in my hand and I’ll get you a bottleful.”
I could see there was no use in arguing with him as I slipped the pill into my pocket, intent on throwing it away when I got out of the building.
Rehearsal went well and it seemed every time I sang the song, I improved my performance. Melissa, Melanie, and Dobrey invited me to join them for dinner in the hotel restaurant after we finished practice; I was grateful to accept. Anything was better than simply sitting around in my hotel room and waiting for bedtime, so I could sit around wide awake until sunrise.
We were a definite odd blend, the play bunnies, the philanthropist, and the heiress, but we had no trouble relating to one another. The twins wanted to know immediately where my handsome boyfriend was hiding.
“He’s actually just a really good friend—my best friend,” I said, sipping my ice water.
�
�You’re kidding,” Melanie exclaimed wide-eyed, “You mean he’s not your boyfriend—he’s available?”
I laughed, “No, he has a girlfriend, it’s just not me.” I watched her deflate.
“That sucks,” Melissa added. “I mean, it’s cool that you two are friends, but he is so hot I don’t know how you could take just being friends.”
“He is nice looking,” Dobrey spoke up with a light smile, “but, personally, I like his attitude better than any of the guys here, other than perhaps Sadarius.”
The twins looked at each other and giggled, “Sadarius is a gentleman.” Melissa winked at her sister, “He’s kind of shy, too—until you get him alone.”
“Maybe they should make Ryan a contestant for next season,” Dobrey suggested, trying to avoid the lip-licking look the twins were giving each other over Sadarius.
Now it was my turn to laugh, “They could put him on one of the dance shows, but that boy cannot sing.”
We were just about to place our order when Sadarius and Rashad entered the room, waiting to be seated. The twins wasted no time in excusing themselves from our company and scampering over to invite themselves to dine with the men.
“Those girls certainly take the title of play bunny seriously,” I joked with Dobrey.
“Those two? You and Ryan haven’t stayed around here to watch them go after the guys. Sadarius seems to be their particular target, but Rashad, I guess, makes it a little easier for them to share.”
We spent the rest of the evening getting to know one another and I found Dobrey to be fascinating. She had been born in Scotland, the daughter of very wealthy land owners. She came to America when she was still a baby. She said her family owns an actual castle in Scotland and she said she often goes back when she wants to recharge her life.
“That sounds wonderful. The Good Lord knows my life could use some serious recharging about now.”
“I’m going there for at least a week while we’re on break. I’d love some company, if you’d like to join me,” she offered.
I gave a quick thought about my wonderful sleeping buddy who now had regular plans to visit me while Candace was at school. “No, I’m afraid I have trouble sleeping when I’m away from home.”
“That’s what it is,” Dobrey exclaimed as she gave me a harder look. “I wondered what was different about you today, and it’s got to be that you’re tired.”
“Is it really that obvious?”
“I’m afraid so. I think everyone is assuming something happened between you and Ryan, but I had a feeling it was something else.”
“I’m exhausted and going somewhere to recharge sounds wonderful, but I bet when this show airs in a couple weeks, none of us are going to get any rest. We’ll have more attention than anyone would want—except for perhaps Melissa and Melanie. I can’t imagine taking off my clothes and letting someone take pictures of me for a million guys to view.”
Dobrey giggled, “Me neither. But, I have several very private places to retreat if the press gets too bad. If you ever need a place to go, I have a fabulous cottage in northern California set on a massive hill overlooking the Pacific. No neighbors, no television, no telephone, just miles and miles of view, and peace and quiet.”
I gave a huge sigh, “That sounds like heaven.”
“And,” she added, “you’re guaranteed to get a good night’s sleep. I don’t know what it is about the air coming off the cold ocean water, but you go to bed under a thick down comforter and it’s like tucking a baby in a cradle.”
“I might take you up on that sometime.”
“Anytime,” she said, reaching into her purse. She handed me a business card. “That’s my cell number. You call me whenever you need it and it will be available.”
We finished our meal and talked a little bit about me. She asked if what the press reported about me actually being married and then running away with Ryan was true. I told her things weren’t as they seemed. He was, I assured her, just a friend.
“Is your husband actually mafia?” she asked quietly.
The tabloids left many people thinking the stories had been greatly stretched, but for once much of the outrageous things they printed about me were close to correct.
“He was—I mean he is again, but…” I thought about mentioning the annulment, but I couldn’t. It felt like such a long time since I had been overcome with these deep emotions. I set down my fork and picked up my dinner napkin and dabbed my eyes.
“I’m sorry. That’s really none of my business.”
“No, it’s okay, I just can’t talk about it right now.”
We finished our meal and ended our evening as good friends. She gave me a firm hug and reminded me whenever I wanted a little time away from the world, to give her a call.
I found the little blue capsule in my pocket when I undressed for bed. I set it on the night stand, and stared at it for a few moments. It was stamped by Lilly so I knew it wasn’t some kind of illegal drug cooked up in someone’s back room, but I was still afraid to even consider trying it.
I tossed and turned, and by sunrise I had garnered perhaps an hour’s worth of sleep. I had to get some rest. I had to be in studio by four p.m. and ready to perform in front of an audience by six. I dug through my bag and pulled out the box of over-the-counter sleeping pills, popped two out of the foil and swallowed them down and returned to bed. I managed two more hours of sleep and at least another hour of drowsy stupor. I pulled Ryan’s tee-shirt out of a zipper bag and placed it on a pillow and hugged it tightly. Relaxation hit me as I inhaled his sweet fragrance. I wasn’t sure what exactly he used, I knew it was one of those body sprays, but whatever it was it began to lull me until I drifted off for another hour and then someone coming loudly down the hotel hallway woke me. That was it. I was going to have to be happy with what I’d gotten and hope my performance didn’t suffer too badly.
Everything went well during the taping. I had, gratefully, drawn the first slot of the night to perform. That was fine with me because the sooner I got off stage the better. The judges were very impressed with my remake of the song, ‘Everything I do,’ and said they were seeing tremendous growth in me already.
“Our next show will be themed for pop music and I hope you continue to pick songs that are challenging because I believe we’ve only scratched the surface of your potential. Good job, tonight. Great way to start the evening,” the most critical judge told me before I exited the stage.
I sat with the other contestants and watched the remaining performances. There were nine of us left and by the end of the night the judges would cut another three women. The three choices didn’t surprise me, but they certainly surprised one of those cut from the show. They cut Carrie, and she was livid. She told the judges they didn’t know what they were talking about. She said she had more potential than any of the other contestants. They disagreed. And, after giving everyone a vocabulary lesson in vulgarity, she stormed off the stage.
This was one time I was glad Ryan wasn’t here. She was out for blood as she came backstage, pitching what amounted to a tantrum as she tipped over equipment and threw whatever she could get her hands on.
“And you,” she said, pointing an angry finger in my direction, “you suck as a singer! You’re just a spoiled little rich girl—a whore that ran off on her husband, and that’s the only reason you’re on the show!”
I was in no condition to challenge her over the remarks so I decided to let them roll over me. But, several of the guys decided she needed to stop as she got closer to me during the tirade. Sadarius, Rashad, and Lexington all got up from their seats and blocked her attempt to get near me.
They were telling her she needed to calm down, but that only agitated her further. The cameras were rolling and I hated the fact that all of this was going to make it on television. She finally seemed to relent, almost to the point of tears as she turned away from the group.
The line between us parted as Sadarius attempted to comfort her over being cut from
the show. He was being impossibly kind as he spoke to her, but in a flash she turned and flew right at me. It had been a ploy to open a path. My reaction time was off as I missed blocking her swing and her fist smacked hard against my left cheekbone. I had never been punched in the face before, and I reeled backward, caught by Melanie and Melissa before I hit the chair behind me.
I was stunned for a moment, but the anger and adrenaline drown out my lethargy as I swung with a round-house kick straight to the side of her head and she hit the floor motionless.
I wiped the blood from the corner of my lip as I watched the crew roll her over and set her upright. I knocked her out cold, but she was coming around. Sadarius and Rashad got on either side of me and escorted me away before she made it to her feet.
“Sorry,” Sadarius was saying softly, “I didn’t have a clue she was playing me.”
“That’s okay,” I tried to say, but my jaw felt funny. “Man that hurt.” I reached up and placed my cool palm against my throbbing cheek.
Rashad laughed, “Yeah, well I think you definitely got in the better hit. She’s gonna feel that one for days.”
They took me back to the stage crew’s kitchen area and found a plastic baggie and some ice for my cheek.
“Here,” Sadarius said, as he wrapped the bag in a piece of cloth and placed it against the tender place on my face, “This’ll make it feel better in a little while.”
Don was there in a flash asking if I was okay. “She didn’t break anything, did she? Does the jaw feel okay?”
“Shit, man,” Rashad snapped, “the girl gets punched in the face and you sound like all you’re worried about is if her mouth is okay so she can still sing. Why don’t you just ask her if she’s okay and leave it at that?”
Don ignored him as he gently pulled my hand holding the ice pack on my cheek away. “That’s going to leave a bruise. There is a medic on the way in here to look at you and—”
“I’m okay,” I said, knowing that nothing had broken (except a little bit of my pride).
By the time the evening ended, and Carrie had been removed from the building, Sadarius walked me to the hotel. I could tell he still felt really bad about the fact he’d let his guard down long enough for her to get to me, but it wasn’t his fault.
02 Unforgivable - Untouchable Page 26