Make Me Believe: Jilted: The Bride

by Tarina Deaton

  Brett shrugged his shoulders again. “Then where is she?”

  “She’s in Denver, as a matter of fact,” Marla said. “We sent her tickets to the concert.”

  “You did?” Luke asked.

  “That’s the point of the friends and family list—it’s a list of people you allow direct access to you, which also includes sending them tickets to the concert if the venue is within one-hundred miles of where they are. This is the third set of tickets we’ve sent her.”

  “Really?” Rowan had been to his concerts?

  Marla gave him what he liked to refer to as her how do you not know this? look. At least it wasn’t the you’re a dumbass look Brett normally got.

  “I don’t remember ever filling out a friends and family list,” Luke explained.

  “You probably did it when you signed with Wild West Records and never updated it. Your manager should have done that before the beginning of the tour.” She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes in Brett’s direction. “I can take her off the list.”

  “No!” Luke jerked in his chair. “No, you can leave her on the list.”

  The corners of her eyes squinted as she assessed him. “It’s too late now anyway, since the tickets have already been delivered. I’ll make sure you review the list before your next tour. In the meantime, is there anyone else you’d like to take to the gala?”

  “What’s the charity?”

  “Childhood literacy. One of the emcees is Laney Faith—she’s an up-and-coming singer and she’s heavily involved in the charity. She’s also in need of a date,” Marla said. “She’s got a clean, wholesome image so she’d do wonders for yours.”

  “Or people will think Luke dragged her over to the dark side.” Brett waggled his eyebrows at his insinuation.

  She shot him another scathing look. “Her image is bulletproof.”

  Funny thing was, Luke wasn’t a party boy. He hardly even drank—even beer. When he wasn’t on tour, he was usually holed up in the studio or his house in Nashville. He didn’t hit the club or party scene, so he wasn’t sure where the bad boy, party image had come from. Probably something Bobby John had cooked up. He’d been old school and thought any publicity was good publicity.

  He lifted the baseball cap on his head, then settled it back in place. “I’ll ask my sister. She’s a teacher, so I know it’s something she’d support. And she’d love the chance to get dressed up.”

  Marla stuck the stylus into her hair, twisted up on her head. “That’s perfect actually. It will demonstrate to your fans that family is important and that you take the issues seriously. I’ll prepare a couple of soundbites for you. If your sister’s the nervous type, I can do a couple for her as well.

  “I’m lining up a couple of big talk show interviews for when you come home from visiting your family and before you go back in the studio—we’ll have time to figure out the rest of it and figure out a strategy.”

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever you think needs to be done. You’re the PR person.”

  “Let me know when you talk to your sister and I’ll send her all the details, including setting her up for a dress fitting and hair and makeup.” Marla stood and left in one smooth motion.

  Brett wiggled his eyebrows at Luke again as if they were in on the same joke. Luke ignored his poor attempts at humor, picked up his plate, and dropped it in the large trash can on his way out the door.

  He squinted as the bright sunlight hit him and he pulled his sunglasses out of the back of his collar. Marla had stopped to talk to someone a few feet away from the door and he called out to her.

  “What’s wrong? Did you change your mind about taking your sister?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not about that. I was wondering if you had Rowan’s phone number.”

  “Let me see.” She worked her magic with her stylus and tablet. “There’s a number with a Tennessee area code. I sent it to your email.”

  His phone was on the bus. “Thanks, Marla. Not just for that, but for everything you do for me. I know I don’t say it enough, but you’re one of the few people who manages to keep me on track.”

  She smiled softly. “You’re welcome, Luke. Good luck with your call.”

  “Thanks.” He half waved and strode toward his bus while his stomach turned over.

  He didn’t think it was the chicken this time.

  Since Marla had mentioned her name, he couldn’t get Rowan out of his head. Not that he needed anyone to put her in his head—she was always there, lurking in the corners of his mind.

  But now…the possibility of hearing her voice was almost too much. He missed the way she used to call him darlin’. Maybe more than anything he missed having that connection with another person. He had his team, but he didn’t have anyone who knew him inside and out.

  They knew Luke Stone, chart-topping country singer. They didn’t know Luke Stone, skinny kid with braces all the way up through tenth grade when he’d finally grown into his height and lost the headgear.

  And now the idea of seeing Rowan, of hearing her voice, wouldn’t get out of his mind. It nagged at him like a melody for a song that wouldn’t leave him alone until he’d written it down.

  He still wasn’t sure how things had ended so bad with Rowan. They’d agreed to the plan—they’d pretend he was single for the first year and then slowly introduce her back into his new life. He hadn’t liked it any more than she had, but Bobby John and Brett had assured him that was best for his career. Singers in steady relationships didn’t appeal as much to women.

  Marla had blown that whole argument out of the water and Luke wondered what she would have advised if she’d been his publicist from the very beginning.

  Jerking the door to his bus open, he jumped up the steps and snatched his phone from the charger. Pulling up the email app, he found Marla’s message. The number was hyperlinked and he selected it.

  The warning window popped up, asking if he wanted to call that number. Did he? What was he going to say? “Sorry I was an ass and listened to even bigger asses instead of doing what I knew was right?”

  That was as good a place as any to start. If she didn’t immediately hang up on him as soon as she heard his voice. But like his mama said, the answer’s always no if you don’t ask the question.

  He pressed yes and lifted the phone to his ear.

  “Who’s this?” a man asked.

  “Uh…this is Luke. I’m looking for Rowan.”

  “Sorry, man, she gave you the wrong number.”

  “No. This is—How long have you had this number?”

  “Over three years.” The guy was getting impatient.

  “Okay. Thanks.” He ended the call then slumped onto the bench and tapped his phone against his knee. Now what?

  He had no way of finding out if she was on social media. He didn’t even know what sites he was on other than Facebook because it was all handled by the PR team. He’d tried to keep his profile locked down and only have his page public, but it had gotten to the point where it was too much with everything else going on.

  He opened his email again and responded to Marla’s. Rowan was going to be at the Denver show. He just needed to know where she would be sitting.

  Chapter 6

  Rowan heard the front door open and close and glanced toward the short hallway as Michael set his computer bag down.

  “Hey. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes,” she said.

  “Sorry I’m late. Masters dropped three new accounts on my desk today.” He kissed her and snagged a cracker from the package on the counter.

  She playfully swatted at his hand. “I really hope you get that promotion so you don’t have to work for him anymore.”

  “You and me both. I’m going to have to work overtime for the next three weeks to clear all my accounts so he’s not calling on our honeymoon.”

  “As annoyed as I am that you have to work so much, I will be extremely pissed off if he calls while we’re in the Keys.”

 
; “You and me both. Do I have any clothes here?”

  “Yeah. There’s some sweats and t-shirts in the laundry basket in the bedroom.”

  Michael kissed her on the cheek, rounded the end of the counter, and walked the eleven and a half steps to her bedroom. He returned a few minutes later and opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. “Are you having wine?”

  “Yes.”

  They fell into an easy rhythm as Michael mixed a salad together while she finished the chicken casserole, then they sat at the small kitchen table to eat.

  “Have you talked to Stephanie recently?” he asked.

  “Earlier today. Everything’s on schedule. We’re going to go to the florist tomorrow to see the samples for the bouquets. She’s set up menu tasting for us next Thursday—do you think you can take a long lunch break?”

  “Didn’t we already to a tasting?”

  “Yes, but this is for what they’ll actually serve at the reception so we can make any changes or substitutions if we want.”

  “Thursday’s not good. We have a staff meeting from eleven to one.”

  “Who has a two-hour staff meeting?” she asked.

  “Masters. Can you take Claudia with you?” he asked.

  “I’ll ask her. If not, I know one of the girls at work will go with me.”

  “They’ll probably enjoy it a lot more than I will, anyway. I don’t really care what we eat,” he said.

  She smiled. “True. The price on that house dropped again.”

  “How much?”

  “Three thousand.”

  “I’m still not excited about the price. Even with the decrease, it’s significantly more than the comps in the area. Plus, we should wait until after the wedding to buy a house. Banks look more favorably on couples that are married than couples that cohabitate.”

  “I know, but I think we’re going to have a hard time finding a house that meets both our criteria, in a good school district, and in our price range, even if it’s at the high end.”

  “We don’t have to find anything right away. We have time before we have to start thinking about school zones.” He paused with the fork halfway to his mouth, then lowered it again. “Unless there’s something you need to tell me.”

  “What?” What he was implying clicked. “Oh! No. I’m not pregnant. It’s just that we’re getting married in a month and we still haven’t decided whether you’re moving in here or if I’m moving in with you.”

  “I’ll move in here. My lease is up in two months and it will be less expensive to ride it out than it will be to break it. That way I also get the security deposit back.”

  “What about all your furniture?”

  Michael finished chewing the mouth full of food. “I’ll store most of it until we’re ready to find a more permanent place. The rent for your apartment is less expensive than mine as well. We can split the rent here and put half of what we were both paying into an account for a down payment on a house.”

  Rowan stabbed a cherry tomato. “It all sounds so logical when you put it that way.”

  It shouldn’t surprise her. He was methodical about everything, especially when it came to money.

  “Has this been stressing you out?” he asked.

  “A little. It’s one of those things we keep saying we’ll talk about but between the end of the calendar year and the beginning of tax season, you haven’t had a lot of time to discuss it.”

  “I’m sorry, Rowan.” He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I wish you’d said something earlier. I think it was one of those things I thought about discussing with you and then thought I had discussed it with you, when I hadn’t—I just thought I had.”

  She had to smile at his circular explanation and squeezed his hand. “I understand. I know you’ve been busy with work.”

  He released her hand and scooped up another forkful of food. “I know it feels like this wedding is barreling down on us, but we have the rest of our lives to figure these things out.”

  “I know. It does feel like there’s this catastrophic event looming on the horizon.”

  He chuckled. “That’s one way to describe a wedding.”

  “That’s not what I meant. It’s just… It’s this huge thing that has huge significance and I feel like there’s going to be some sort of gatekeeper that’s going to determine the rest of our lives depending on how well it goes.”

  “If I had known you were going to be this stressed about it, I would have suggested we elope.” He took her empty plate and bowl and stacked them on top of his.

  “Your mother never would have forgiven us,” she said.

  “She’d have gotten over it eventually.” Standing, he kissed her forehead and gathered up the plates and utensils. “I’ve got the dishes.”

  “Thanks.” She gazed at his back as he walked to the kitchen. He really was perfect. Sweet. Considerate. Handsome with a good paying job. She was happy and knew, no matter what, Michael would be there for her. He’d never walk away from her.

  Her phone dinged with an incoming text and she picked it up. Claudia had sent a selfie of her and Maria from the concert. Rowan grinned at their obvious excitement. Her smile slipped a little when she realized they’d managed to capture the stage behind them with Luke staring down at them from the stage. She zoomed in on the picture.

  Her whole body felt like it was constricting around her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a picture of him. For the first year after their breakup, she’d devoured any information she could get her hands on—concert schedules, news articles, who he was dating. She’d been obsessed until she’d seen a picture of him at an awards ceremony with some cute country singer on his arm.

  After eating her way through a pint of butter pecan and drinking her way through a quarter bottle of vodka, she’d gone cold turkey.

  Blocked all the fan sites and pages and had a friend that worked in IT create a program that wouldn’t even show her anything with his name on it.

  The only thing she hadn’t been able to stop were the concert tickets that were sent by special delivery every time he was in Colorado or Wyoming, but she’d never been able to bring herself to go.

  She moved the picture and centered it on Claudia and Maria then noticed Claudia holding up her left hand.

  Rowan zoomed in even more.

  “Oh my God!” She exited to the texting app.

  Rowan: Are you engaged?

  Claudia: Yes! Didn’t you read the caption?

  Rowan: No. I just opened the picture. OMG! I’m SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!

  She scrolled up and read the text - I said yes!

  “What’s going on?” Michael leaned over her and looked at her phone.

  “Maria proposed to Claudia. Look!” She opened the picture again and he took the phone.

  “Are they at the Luke Stone concert?”

  Oh…right. She lost a little bit of her happiness. “Yes.”

  Michael handed her phone back. “You got tickets again?”

  “Yes.” She closed the picture.

  He sat down across from her, a ‘v’ forming between his brows. “You didn’t tell me,” he said quietly.

  “I didn’t mean not to tell you. I was trying to find a charity to donate them to and Claudia hinted that she’d like to go, so I gave her the tickets.” She smiled and shrugged. “Looks like it was a good call.”

  He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “I can’t say that it doesn’t bother me that you never send them back.”

  She leaned forward and threaded her fingers into the hand that rested on top of his arms. “The first time I received tickets, I was going to burn them and send back the ashes.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  She shook her head. “A classmate volunteered for the Make-A-Wish Foundation and mentioned there was a little boy whose wish was to go to a Luke Stone concert, but they were having a hard time reaching anyone on his management team to see if they could get tickets for him and his mom. I gave h
er the tickets.”

  “That was a coincidence.”

  “Kismet.” She wanted to make sure he understood she wasn’t holding onto the tickets for any sentimental value. “I’ve donated the tickets ever since. Someone should enjoy them.”

  “How does he know where to send them?” he asked.

  “I’ve lived in this apartment since I moved to Colorado and I sent him my address when I first got here,” she explained. “I thought maybe…”

  “You’d get back together,” Michael finished.

  She shrugged and let go of his hand. Leaning back in her seat, she dropped her gaze to the table. “It was foolish, but I still loved him. He didn’t feel the same and I eventually moved on.” She raised her eyes. “A couple of years later, I met you. Things don’t always work out the way you think they will when we’re young, but they work out the way they’re supposed to.”

  “What about after we get married? What are you going to do with them then?”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  He stared at her for several loaded seconds before uncrossing his arms and taking her hand in his. “Selfishly, I don’t want you to take them but they go to a good cause.”

  She squeezed his hand. “It’s okay to be selfish. I doubt I’ll get any more after this anyway and if I do, I’ll send them back.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “I’m beat and I have to go in for a few hours tomorrow. I’m going to bed.”

  “I’m going to finish the dishes and watch a show. I’ll be in there in a bit.”

  “Okay.” He kissed her again, then retreated to the bedroom, leaving the door open a crack.

  Rowan picked up her phone and opened the picture. He looked good. In jeans and a worn t-shirt with a little bit of scruff on his face, he was the poster child for bad boy country singer. He was in his element and enjoying every minute of it.

  She clicked the edit link, cropped the picture so only Maria and Claudia were visible, and saved it to her phone.