Encore: A Standalone Rockstar Novel

by Selena Laurence

  "Okay, then." She nods decisively. I love the way she's so certain. She takes time to consider things, but once she's made a decision, she's wholly confident and committed. Like the other night, when I asked her to come back to my hotel room. She processed it for a moment, then she was all in. I can tell this will be the same, and for the first time in forever, I feel hope for my relationship with Sara.

  "I guess the first step is to get Christine to agree to send her out?"

  She takes a sip of wine. "Absolutely. It'll never work if you don't have her mom's buy-in."

  I think about that for a moment. Christine has always wanted me to spend more time with Sara. Be more present for her. I'm lucky, she's never been a mother who tries to come between me and our kid. She didn't have to be that person, I created a wide enough chasm all on my own.

  "I think I'll just tell her the truth—that I want Sara to know who I was before all the fame and fortune, that I have friends here who want to know her, and that getting her away from all the other distractions will force her to deal with me in a way she can avoid in L.A."

  Carly nods. "I'm a big fan of honesty." Then her gaze turns soft, and it makes my heart squeeze a touch. "This could be a turning point for you and Sara. I'll do everything I can to help."

  And that's when I realize that, after all these years—all the travel and attention and parties—what I've been missing is right here in my hometown. People who know the real me, who are willing to go to bat for my family, who will welcome me back anytime, no matter what.

  I'm genuinely overcome with gratitude.

  "Thank you." It's wholly inadequate, two words to summarize the fullness that's rooted into my heart. But it's all I've got, so I go with it.

  Her answering smile is like sunshine. "We're going to have fun," she tells me with a sparkle in her pretty eyes. "I've always wanted a girl. And Auntie Ali is a nonstop party. Her view of children is they're meant to be indulged then returned to their parents. When I used to leave Quinn with her for an overnight, he'd come home with a whole new wardrobe, hopped up on sugar, and sporting blue hair from that spray-on stuff. Give her a teenage girl and I can guarantee Ali, Sara, and I will be making some trips to the mall."

  I relax for the first time since I saw Christine's number on my phone screen. "I thought you were going to help me, not give me heart failure. My credit card can take it, but I'm not sure my fatherly sensibilities will make it through more of those tiny tops she considers legitimate clothing."

  She's motherly as she pats my hand. "Just wait until her first strapless homecoming dress and the date that's staring at her cleavage in all the pictures."

  Fuck. I groan. Is it always this hard? I wonder.

  "Yes," she says.

  "Did I ask that out loud?"

  "You did. And it is, but the pay-off? It's totally worth it, Ross. You'll see."

  And indeed, I will, because when I call Christine after I've dropped Carly off from dinner, she says she thinks it's a fantastic idea. The next thing I know, I've scheduled a charter to take me to L.A., where I'll pick up Sara and fly back again. The day after tomorrow, I'm going to be a full-time dad to a teenage girl who hates my guts. Fun times, as the kids like to say. Fun times.

  "You can't make her live in a hotel with you for a month," Deanna admonishes as she spreads peanut butter and jelly on bread for little Mandy's school lunch. Craig grunts something from the other end of the bar top, where he's nursing a cup of coffee before work.

  "Uncle Ross?" Mandy asks from her stool next to me, where she's picking out all the orange Froot Loops and setting them on the kitchen counter.

  "Yeah, cutie?" I reach over to tear off a piece of paper towel and reposition the sticky orange Froot Loops on top of it. Deanna mouths "thank you" at me.

  "Why don't you and Sara live together all the time? You're her daddy, right?"

  I glance at Deanna, not sure how to handle that one.

  "You know how Grandma and Grandpa live in different houses and we go to see them one at a time?" Deanna interjects.

  Mandy nods her little head, curls bouncing up and down. It's funny to see Craig's face from childhood on a little girl, but there it is.

  "That's because Grandma and Grandpa aren't married anymore. Uncle Ross and Sara's mom aren't married anymore, either."

  She seems to accept this and goes back to the Froot Loops, singing something about a Red Robin as she does.

  "Where, exactly, do you propose I have her stay for a month?" I ask, returning to Deanna's earlier statement.

  "Rent a house. Hell, buy a house," Craig grumbles.

  I think about that for a moment.

  "Too bad you don't know a local real estate agent," Deanna adds sarcastically.

  A grin crawls across my face.

  "Where's the office?" I give Mandy a kiss on the cheek before I stand.

  "Uncle Ross," she giggles in exasperation. "Your beard is itchy."

  "Main Street, next to the old theater," Deanna supplies.

  I stride toward the door, then stop and turn back, returning to Deanna and giving her a kiss on the cheek, too.

  "Hands off my woman," Craig mutters, taking another sip of coffee.

  Deanna beams at me. "Make sure it has a nice bathroom. Teenage girls spend a lot of time in the bathroom."

  And with that sound piece of advice, I'm off to find Carly. But while my head says this should be all business, my heart tells me it's a hell of a lot more enjoyable than any business I've ever done.

  12

  Carly

  "Good morning," my assistant says as she walks into my office and sets a cup of coffee on the desk.

  "Hi, Jess. Did you have a good weekend?"

  "Not as good as yours, I bet," she murmurs with a sly smile.

  Oh hell. I should have known this would happen. How Ross and I thought we could leave that reunion together and not have everyone gossip about it is beyond me.

  "And why would you say that?" I ask, pretending to still read emails.

  She snorts in derision. "You're seriously going to act like you didn't leave the reunion with Ross Macalester in tow? My older sister saw you guys with her own two eyes. You forget that she's married to Donny Alsace from your grade."

  I roll my eyes, then finally pin her with a stare. "I did leave with Ross. He needed a ride back to his hotel. Did I ever tell you Ross was my senior prom date? We went as friends. We're still friends."

  "Mmhm," she murmurs, taking another sip of her coffee. "Well, your friend is waiting for you in the lobby. Pretty bright and early on a Monday morning for a friend, I'd say."

  Before she walks out, she looks over her shoulder. "Better have him come back to your office soon," she warns. "The kids in the bookkeeping department found out he's here, and they have actual social media."

  Shit.

  I shake my head and wonder if I'll get fired for the mob that descends on the lobby after everyone finds out Ross is cooling his heels there.

  Jess obviously has no intention of helping me out of this mess, so I make my way to the lobby to retrieve one rockstar.

  When I arrive, Ross is busy signing coffee mugs and regaling a couple of the agents with how much a two-bedroom house in Malibu costs. They're nodding enthusiastically, all starry-eyed at the idea of commissions in the hundreds of thousands instead of the tens.

  "Oh! Carly!" one of my fellow agents gushes when she sees me. "Ross is here to see you."

  I smile, wondering what it would take to get her to stop touching Ross's arm as she talks.

  "I see that," I say with a feral smile. She seems to heed my warning and steps back.

  "Well, I guess Carly can take care of you from here," she says huffily.

  Ross hands her a signed coffee mug, then shakes hands with the other agent before they both go back to their offices.

  He steps to me, all grins and warm hazel eyes. My poor stupid heart, that just can't seem to get the message, skips a beat.

  "I didn't expect to see y
ou here," I say.

  "I didn't expect you to be so territorial," he answers with a smirk.

  I turn to head to my office and he falls into step beside me.

  "I don't know what you mean." I'm such a liar.

  "Hmm," he hums.

  I stride into my office and he follows, closing the door behind him.

  "What's that mean?"

  He just continues to smile, then changes the subject abruptly. "I need a house. To rent or, hell, if I like it, I'll buy it. But I need it by tomorrow when Sara arrives. Furniture, too. But I can get that delivered from someplace in Chicago, I'm sure."

  I blink at him before regaining my equilibrium. "Um, ok. Just any old house, or did you have some parameters?"

  I gesture toward the guest seats in my office before walking around the desk and settling into my own chair. I pull up the current listings as I wait for his answer.

  "Doesn't have to be big, but maybe three bedrooms? One for Sara, one for guests, one for me. Maybe I'll invite my parents to come up for a few days. They'd probably enjoy seeing some old friends in town."

  "Okay, three to four bedrooms, at least two baths?"

  He shrugs. "Sure. If that's the standard thing."

  I stop scrolling the listings and give him one of the looks I give Quinn when he's suggesting we get a girl iguana and let her have baby iguanas with Chuck. "The standard thing? Ross, when was the last time you bought a house?"

  He looks thoughtful for a moment. "I own several, but honestly, I never really shopped for any of them myself. My agent chose the L.A. house, I just wanted to be near the beach. I got my place in New York when one of my bandmates was selling it—we just let our agents manage the sale. I own a place in Barbados that I've actually never been to, it was a tax shelter. And when I paid for my parents' place in Florida, they chose it, I just wrote the check."

  I gape at him for a long moment. "You've never gone house hunting? Put together a list of things you want, discussed the pros and cons of different neighborhoods?"

  He looks sheepish then. "I guess not?"

  I slam my laptop shut and stand. "Well, then it's time for Aunty Carly's real estate 101. I do this with first-time buyers all the time, and even though you own probably a few million dollars-worth of real estate, it appears that you missed the most important part of the process."

  His brow furrows and he nods earnestly. "Whatever you think is best. I'm game, as long as we end up with a house for Sara by tomorrow."

  I take him by the elbow and pull him toward the door. "I hope you didn't have anything else planned today. We have a ton of work ahead of us."

  "And I thought this was going to be a vacation," he laments as he docilely follows along.

  I toss a smile over my shoulder. "This is my very favorite part of the job. You'll see. It's work that pays off in ways you can't imagine."

  13

  Ross

  I'm watching Carly's ass as she explains the finer details of a floor plan with two master suites.

  "What do you think?" she asks as we stand in master suite number two, on the opposite side of the house from master suite number one.

  I blink back to the present. My mind had strayed to the feel of her skin beneath my fingertips. I'm trying to behave, I really am, but she just does something to my common sense. And my good judgment. And all the other rational, adult things I'm supposed to be well-versed in.

  "I'm sorry, what did you ask?"

  She looks exasperated. "What do you think about the double master concept? I mean, I was sort of assuming the second master would be for your parents, but honestly, the way teen girls are about the bathroom thing, it might be even better to give it to Sara."

  "She has her own bathroom at home," I tell her. I remember that from when Christine showed me the house right after I bought it for them. She didn't let Sara have that room until she was in preschool because she was concerned about the attached bathroom being a safety hazard, but she'd always planned for it to be Sara's room.

  "Okay, so maybe a set-up like this would help make her feel more at home?"

  I pull it together and actually consider this for a moment. "You're probably right." I pause, taking a look at the set-up of this room. "I have something to confess. I think Sara is probably pretty spoiled. Christine is a great parent, but they're both steeped in the L.A. lifestyle, and I've assuaged my guilt about never being there by writing blank checks."

  Carly nods thoughtfully. "Ross? What are you trying to accomplish with this? I mean, I think it's a great opportunity for you to bring Sara here and get to know each other a little better, but this is a small Midwestern town, and she's a Hollywood teen. There's not a master bathroom in this town that can match what she's used to."

  She has a solid point, and it's a stumbling block I know is going to be hard to overcome. But damn, I'd like to.

  "Everything we discussed last night—I want to spend time with her, like a normal parent does. I want her to get to know the people and the place I grew up with. I want to get her out of her normal and show her what my normal was, once upon a time—because honestly, what's been normal for the last twenty-five years isn't the normal I want her to remember me by."

  She steps closer, her lips pursing. "Then why are we looking at these big houses with three car garages and swimming pools?"

  I shrug. "Because your real estate 101 class took me here?"

  She laughs softly. "I asked you if you wanted those things."

  "And I said they sounded fine. I mean, is there anyone who's opposed to a swimming pool?"

  "Yes, someone who doesn't have endless money at his disposal."

  I think about that. She has a great point. When I was buying my parents' place in Florida, I had the same basic conversation over and over with them—don't you want a tennis court, Mom? Wouldn't you like to be on the seventh hole, Dad? They'd never had a limitless budget to house shop before, so they didn't even consider certain amenities. Hadn't ever thought about whether they'd want those things.

  But I'm on the other end of the equation now. I say yes to everything, because why not? It's not like I can't afford it.

  "If you really want to show Sara what your world here was like, you need to be in that world, Ross," Carly tells me gently.

  "You're right. This is...harder than I imagined. I guess I don't realize how much I've changed in all these years."

  She shakes her head stubbornly. "No. The Ross I knew is right here." She taps my chest, letting her hand linger there for a moment longer than she needs to. "He's just been sleepwalking through all the fame and fortune."

  I chuckle at her description. Without having seen me in two decades, she knows me almost better than I know myself.

  "Good description," I compliment.

  "Then let's start over. What are you trying to do here?"

  I let the direction settle, become more resolute. "I'm trying to find a comfortable house for Sara and me to live in for the next month, and maybe spend time in after that—summers or holidays.

  "It needs to be near downtown so we can walk or bike on Saturday mornings for breakfast, like Craig and I used to, and it needs to have a fenced yard because she might want to bring her little dog...and it should have an eat-in kitchen so I can figure out how to cook her a few things." I warm to the image that's forming in my mind.

  "Oh!" I continue. "A fireplace. Because if she comes at Christmas, I want to have a place to hang stockings like my mom always did."

  Carly's face lights up with a smile so lovely it makes my heart ache. It's like I'm a five-year-old and she's filled with pride because I just learned how to read.

  "Yes," she agrees. "Now you're talking about buying a home rather than a house. That's what real estate 101 is all about."

  "I can see an image in my head. I've never had that before—an image of what I want my house to look like. The decorator who did my L.A. place showed me a few options and I picked from them, but that's the closest to a vision I've ever had for a hous
e."

  Carly closes the lockbox for the house we've just left—double masters or not, I know I won't be living here.

  "Hang on to that image," she tells me as we climb into my rented Mercedes wagon. "I have the house for you."

  An hour later, I sign the offer on the kitchen counter of what should be my new house in the next twelve hours. It's a bungalow just a few blocks from where Carly lives, and three blocks from Main Street. The big front porch is screened in and faces a tree-lined street with a collection of Victorian and post-Victorian houses ranging from two bedrooms up to four.

  The particular house I'm standing in only has two bedrooms and a small office, but the current owners earned a little extra money from a unit they built over the detached garage. It's a studio space with a galley kitchen and a three-quarter bath. And if you think I learned both those terms today, you'd be correct.

  But what's important isn't my scant knowledge of real estate terms, but the fact that my parents could stay there as long as they wanted, and Sara has a cozy room of her own under the eaves upstairs. It's a lot plainer than what she's used to in L.A., and I'm starting to think it's also exactly what we both need. No maids, no cooks, no one but us, three good meals a day, and my hometown.

  "It's all sent," Carly says with a satisfied smile as she puts her phone away after scanning and emailing the offer.

  "Just like that?"

  "Just like that." She peers at me. "Did you even see your other houses before you bought them?"

  I feel my face heat a touch. "Uh, online?"

  She rolls her eyes. "Good God, Ross. How can you buy a multi-million-dollar property after only seeing photos? Didn't you care about how the place felt?"

  I try to remember my frame of mind when I bought the place in L.A., or the place in Manhattan, or the place in the Barbados.

  "I think," I begin, as I move a touch closer to her, breathing in her scent that's all vanilla and cream, "I just figured they were like bigger hotel suites. I've basically been without a home my entire adult life. If I wasn't rehearsing twelve hours a day, I was on tour. If I wasn't on tour, I was on vacation, because what else do you do when you travel for work, but travel when you're not at work?" It all sounds ridiculous, but it has been my life for so long I'm not sure I know any other way to exist.