ANOTHER SKY

by Jayne Frost

  A bitter laugh scraped my throat. Because he had to be joking. “Why the hell do you think he’d want to talk to me?”

  He took a quick look around to make sure no one was watching, then said in a tone close to a whisper, “Well, he shelled out five hundred bucks to go to your concert. We talked about it during one of our sessions. But that stays between us.” Fairly certain he’d at least bent the rules on client confidentiality if not broken them completely, I nodded. Satisfied with my promise, he stood up. “Think about it.”

  And I did.

  Finishing my coffee, I stared out the window, weighing the pros and cons while Sheppard buzzed around, collecting paper cups, napkins, and half-eaten donuts.

  When a couple of people wandered in for the next session, I pushed to my feet. I’d only made it to the end of the aisle when something told me to stop. That voice in my head that sounded so much like Rhenn’s.

  Do something.

  Sheppard paused when he noticed I hadn’t moved. “Is there something else, Miles?”

  “No. I mean yes.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Is the kid a resident?”

  The doc nodded, a hopeful smile curving his lips. My eyes immediately drifted to the ceiling. Stay out of it. That was all me. My own voice warning me not to get involved. Which made it easier to ignore.

  “Have him in your office for my next session,” I called over my shoulder on my way to the door. “Better tell him to check his attitude, though. ’Cause if he mouths off to me again, I’m putting him on his ass.”

  Gelsey

  “Where are you now?” Shannon’s tone held a hint of anxiety. “Can you turn around?”

  I wiped the fog off the inside of the windshield with the sleeve of my hoodie. “No. I’ll be at Miles’s house in ten minutes.”

  Maybe. Hopefully. I wasn’t sure exactly where I was.

  After staying up all night trying to get a hold of my dad, my brain was a little hazy. He hadn’t answered my calls, and after my fourth message, he’d turned off the tracker app off on his phone.

  Nobody was going to save me.

  Strangely enough, that was the push I’d needed to pull myself together and formulate a plan. Which I’d then shared with Shannon, since it involved couch surfing at her place. Thankfully, my best friend was an early riser, and by six a.m. she’d given me her blessing.

  An hour later, I had all my clothes in plastic garbage bags.

  It wasn’t until I’d dragged the first load out to the car that I’d realized a storm had rolled through in the middle of the night. Since the rain had slowed to a trickle, I’d decided to keep my appointment with Miles. I needed to ask him about the money, anyway.

  Casting a glance at the ominous clouds, I said, “I’ll wait until the storm breaks and then head your way.”

  I didn’t want to tell Shannon that my windshield wipers were on the fritz. She’d only worry.

  “Okay,” she said wearily. “I left the key under the frog on the porch. Please be careful.”

  “I will. Thank you for everything.”

  “It’s no problem.” After a beat of silence, she sighed. “I’m so sorry about your dad, Gels.”

  “Me too.”

  I took my eye off the road long enough to end the call, and when I looked up, the entrance for Rob Roy Estates was right in front of me. I jerked the wheel to the right, and my worn tires lost traction on the rain-slicked road. After the longest two seconds of my life, I regained control. But not before adrenaline flooded my system. By the time I reached the gate guarding Miles’s long driveway, tears stained my cheeks. I managed to punch the numbers into the keypad before the sobs broke free.

  I didn’t even try to hold back. Or pretend the universe wasn’t playing a cosmic joke on me, giving with one hand and taking with the other. After ten minutes or so, I pulled myself together and, easing off the brake, I started down the long driveway.

  My heart stalled when I spotted Miles pacing by the fountain.

  Before I’d even come to a complete stop, he yanked the door open. Crouching at my side, he grabbed my hand. “What happened?”

  “N-nothing. I just…” A fresh torrent of tears spilled onto my cheeks, and I looked down. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” Lacing our fingers, he stood up. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Inside.” His grip was like iron, but also comforting in a strange way, so I let him help me to my feet.

  “Wait,” I said. “I need my tote.”

  He reached around me and pulled the back door open. A garbage bag full of my clothes tumbled out, landing on the wet pavement with a splat. Without missing a beat, he tossed the bag back onto the seat and then grabbed my faded canvas carryall.

  “This?”

  I nodded, wondering if there was a limit to how much embarrassment a person could endure. Surely this should count as double.

  It was then I noticed his bare feet.

  “What are you doing out here without shoes on?” I asked as he hustled me up the walk.

  “I saw you on the camera, sitting in front of the gate.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “I thought you might’ve had an accident.”

  I looked down. “No.”

  Daryl was waiting inside the foyer when we ducked inside. “Miss Gelsey,” he said to me before shifting his focus to Miles. “Anything I can do?”

  My cheeks flamed when Miles turned to me. “What’s wrong with your car?”

  “I-I… Nothing. It’s just old.”

  “Why don’t the windshield wipers work?” he pressed.

  Was he really that observant? And how long had he been watching me? My stomach sank as I pictured the ugly crying. And let’s not forget wiping my snot on the shoulder of my hoodie. He squeezed my fingers. “Gelsey.”

  “Oh…there’s a short in the electrical system. The wipers work, but only on the intermittent setting.”

  “What else?” he asked. I blinked at him. “What else is wrong with your car?”

  I shifted my feet. “The blinkers on the driver side don’t…uh…blink.”

  Miles closed his eyes, the muscle in his jaw ticking furiously. “Don’t you know how dangerous that is?” His tone was quiet but lethal. “What if someone had slammed into you in the rain? Never mind. Give me your keys.”

  “M-My—”

  “Daryl’s going to take a look.” Miles’s dismissed me for the moment, addressing his bodyguard. “Didn’t you say you used to work on cars?”

  “Planes,” Daryl replied smoothly, holding out his open palm. “Same principle.”

  A nervous chuckle tripped from my lips. “You don’t have to. I’m leaving as soon as it stops raining and…” The big man took a step forward, wiggling his fingers. And Miles had yet to let go of my hand. It was like being sandwiched between two large mountains. I pulled the key fob from my pocket. “Here you go.”

  “Fix it,” Miles said to Daryl. “And if you can’t fix it, find someone who can. We’ll be in the den.”

  Holding my ground when Miles started to walk in the opposite direction, I smiled at Daryl. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

  Miles turned, made eye contact with his bodyguard, and mumbled, “Yeah, thanks.”

  A smile curved Daryl’s lips. More like a smirk. “Don’t mention it.” Tossing the keys in the air, he sauntered toward the door.

  Miles waited until he was outside to say, “Fucking leaner. It’s about time he earned his keep.”

  “What’s a leaner?” I asked, falling into step behind him.

  “Just a nickname. He’s always leaning on something.”

  “Do you assign all your employees nicknames?” He shrugged, which was as good as a yes. “Do I have a nickname?” The muscles in his back bunched up, and I dragged my feet in response. “Tell me.”

  When I stopped altogether, he ground to a halt as well. It was either that or let go of my hand.

  “Angry mouse,” he said.

  My mout
h fell open. “Angry mouse?”

  He smiled, and it changed his whole face into something…extra. “You look like a little mouse with your fur all hacked up when you get mad. It’s cute.”

  He was cute.

  And why hadn’t I noticed it before? Handsome, yes. Devastatingly so. But not cute. Cute was for puppies. And Miles was more like a bear. A teddy bear.

  “Come on,” he said, giving my arm a gentle tug. “Let’s eat some lunch and you can tell me why you have bags of clothes in your back seat.”

  Miles

  “I want to meet her,” Emily said, her eyes fixed on the door.

  I grabbed two bottles of water from the open case on the island. “You can meet her later.”

  Emily pulled a face but didn’t ask any more questions. Which was a good thing since I didn’t have any answers. There was no good reason my assistant shouldn’t meet Gelsey.

  Fishing a Post-it Note from my front pocket, I dropped it on the counter. “Can you place an order for lunch? All the information is there. And get something for yourself.” My gaze slid to the back door, and I felt my lip twitch. “And get something for what’s his name too.”

  “Daryl.” Em propped a hip against the counter and perused the order, wrinkling her nose. “What kind of restaurant is this? And what the hell is bone broth?”

  I shrugged, because I had no idea. I’d told Gelsey to pick anything she wanted. And the girl went way off the reservation. No burgers. No fries. Just a variety of organic meats and steamed vegetables. And bone broth.

  “It’s healthy,” I said. “Nothing wrong with that.”

  Em strode to the fridge, grabbed a Dr. Pepper, and defiantly popped open the top. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she took a sip. “Yum.” Smiling wide, she tapped her can to my bottle. “Here’s to your boring meal. I’ll be ordering a pizza. Nice and cheesy. You know when the grease soaks right through the cardboard box? Yeah, that.”

  “Funny.” I headed for the door. “Let me know when the food arrives. And steer clear of the den.”

  Cursing my slip of the tongue, I cringed and kept walking. Maybe Em wouldn’t notice. No such luck.

  “She’s in the den? Nobody’s allowed in the den,” she called after me. “I’m not allowed in the den!”

  “Yeah. Yeah,” I muttered. Em was right. And I still couldn’t figure out why I’d marched Gelsey there. Back to the scene of the crime. The room I’d almost eviscerated her for daring to enter days ago.

  But inside, I knew.

  Gelsey was all about the quid pro quo. The only way to earn her trust was by revealing something about myself. I wouldn’t be doing that. But she could get a pretty good feel for who I was by wandering around my den. It was all there. A cabinet full of my favorite 80s movies on DVD. Posters from my tours and platinum albums. My drums. All the remnants of the me I once was.

  Maybe if she saw all that, she’d feel inclined to answer a couple of questions. Like why the hell she was rolling around town with all her belongings in the back seat of her death trap.

  I tapped out a text to Daryl. Any news on Gelsey’s car?

  He responded seconds later. It’s a piece of shit.

  Smiling, I replied: That’s not news.

  Slipping my phone into my pocket, I rounded the corner, my steps faltering when I heard the music.

  I stepped into the room, and Gelsey beamed at me. “You have the entire Beatles catalog. On vinyl.”

  Sidling up behind her, I glanced at one of my classic albums on the turntable. “You ever used one of those things?”

  “Yep,” she quipped, taking the bottle of water out of my hand. Sinking to her knees, she started flipping through the albums. “Oh my God. You’ve even got one of the UK editions of Please, Please Me.” She ran her fingers over the cover, biting down a smile. “Of course, you do.”

  I eased down beside her, amused. “How is it you’ve never heard of Damaged, but you know the difference between the UK and the US edition of a group who broke up twenty-five years before you were born?”

  Tilting her head, she pulled out another LP, opening the cover with the care of someone handling a Fabergé egg. “Twenty-seven years.”

  “Huh?”

  Cutting her gaze to me, she smiled. “I was born in ninety-seven. The Beatles broke up in seventy. Well, technically sixty-nine, since that’s when John Lennon announced he was leaving the group. But it wasn’t official until April the following year. So that’s twenty-seven years.”

  Even the most hardcore music fan couldn’t pull dates like that out of their ass. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  She crisscrossed her legs and took a sip of her water. “The Beatles are the only thing I listen to besides classical. They were my mom’s favorite band.”

  Which also made no sense. “But your mama’s what, late-forties? Fifty?”

  Gelsey looked down, and even with the blond hair curtaining her face, I could see the sadness. “She would’ve been forty-three this year. She died when I was eleven. Bone cancer.”

  Before I could offer even a word of comfort, she climbed to her feet. “I need to make a call. I’m supposed to be moving today.“

  Which explained the bags in her car. But not the way everything was thrown in the back seat like she’d fled a burning building.

  None of your business.

  “Sure.”

  She wandered over to the window while I pretended to check my phone. But other than putting a little distance between us, she made no effort to conceal her conversation. Since it was my house, and there were a dozen other rooms, I should’ve given her some privacy.

  Shoulda. Coulda. Woulda. Didn’t.

  “Hey,” she said and paused for a beat. “No, I’m still over at Miles’s. How’s the weather over there?” Silence, and then a groan. “Really? How bad?” Stealing a glance, I found her chewing her bottom lip. “Okay, well, Miles is having someone check my car. The windshield wipers aren’t working.” Letting her head fall back, she closed her eyes. “I didn’t tell you because of what you’re doing right now,” she finally said. “Please don’t worry so much. I’m a big girl. This is just a minor bump in the road.” She laughed, and for some reason, my shoulders relaxed at the sound. Just when I thought her conversation had taken a turn for the better, she sighed. “Nope. I haven’t heard from him. What’s he going to say? ‘Sorry you’re homeless. My bad.’ He’ll wait for the dust to settle and then he’ll make contact.” She pressed her forehead to the glass, and I could see her bottom lip wobble in the reflection. “I know he’s messed up. But I love him.”

  Welding my teeth together, I digested that little nugget. At least I knew Gelsey wasn’t in any danger. She was just in love with a douchebag. Good on her.

  Shoving to my feet, I busied myself putting the album back in the sleeve.

  When she appeared at my side a moment later, I tossed her a curt smile. “Lunch should be here anytime. Let’s go find Daryl and check on your car so you can be on your way.”

  Gelsey

  I followed Miles through the house, a little confused by his latest mood swing. But why should I be? The guy was a walking, talking contradiction.

  Two days ago, he’d nearly taken my head off for setting foot in the room where he’d deposited me after bringing me in from the rain. And for an hour, while we’d discussed lunch and music and other nonsensical things, he’d been relaxed. I’d let my guard down too and made the mistake of talking about my mom. And that’s when everything had changed.

  Obviously, his little sanctuary was filled with too many ghosts to accommodate mine. My ounce of sadness combined with his ocean of misery disrupted the balance. And now he wanted me gone.

  At least I’d get lunch out of the deal. And that would give Miles time to settle down enough so I could ask about my pay.

  I wasn’t at all familiar with the layout of the house, but I thought the garage was off the kitchen. But instead of heading in that direction, Miles pushed open a door and we stepped
into a gym that rivaled the one at the dance company. Top of the line Nautilus equipment all around the room. Along with an elliptical, two treadmills, and a stationary bike.

  I’d barely had time to take in my surroundings when he marched me through another door and onto the patio in the backyard. We were on the far side of the pool now, next to a breezeway that connected the house to the garage. We entered through the first bay and passed four cars that looked like they’d just been driven off the showroom floor before coming upon the truck he always drove. It was a nice truck but looked out of place in comparison to the other sleeker and more expensive vehicles.

  My mouth dropped open when I spotted my little Civic, her hood up and her guts strewn out on a tarp.

  “Your electrical system is shot,” Daryl said as he wiped his greasy hands on a shop towel. “You’re lucky the whole thing didn’t catch fire. I’m not sure it’s worth fixing.”

  Panicked, I glanced over all the parts. “Can you put it back? I mean, I don’t need the wipers or the blinkers. I just…” My chest caved in when the first tear spilled onto my cheek. Stupid tear. I swiped it away with a determined hand. “I need my car.”

  In a flash, the other Miles appeared. The one with the kind eyes and the easy smile. He wasn’t smiling now, though.

  “Did you hear what he said?” He stepped in front of me, blocking my view of anything but him. “Your car isn’t safe. I don’t trust that it will ever be safe. I think the best thing to do is to give Daryl the title so he can sell it for scrap.”

  Whatever animosity I thought I felt for my father doubled in size, taking up all the space in my body.

  “I don’t have a title…my dad…”

  I couldn’t finish the thought. A tiny piece of me would always protect my father. Or at the very least, not betray him.

  While I stood there, gasping for breath, Daryl scooted by, patting Miles on the back on his way to the door. Miles didn’t acknowledge him, his eyes locked on mine. And I held on. Even as the waves threatened to drag me down, I didn’t let go. And then his hand found mine, and I could breathe.