Unattainable

by Schlosser, Jamie

  That was true.

  Other than them hounding me about eating enough, the few phone calls I’d had with my parents were short, mundane conversations about the weather and work. I’d purposely avoided the topic of romance. I didn’t want them worrying about me while I was away.

  I wasn’t sure they’d approve of my new relationship. After witnessing the post-Aiden fallout years ago, they’d been concerned about the fact that I was going to be seeing him again.

  Before leaving, I’d convinced them—and myself—that my past association with him was a non-issue.

  Guess I had some explaining to do.

  I pulled back. “I lost the job.”

  “What?” Her happy expression morphed to one of shock. “How?”

  “Can we sit?” I gave the big brown couch a longing glance. “I’m really tired.”

  “Yeah, of course.” Mom shuffled toward the kitchen, her slippers softly scuffing against the laminate wood floor. “We’ll have a girls’ chat.” I heard the opening and closing of cabinets as I fell onto the microfiber cushions. “I’ll make some herbal tea!”

  This woman and her tea. God bless her, she thought a hot cup of poorly flavored water could fix anything.

  When she came out a few minutes later with the steaming drinks in her hand, I took a sip. Chamomile and lavender. It was the beverage she’d made for me hundreds of times over the years, thinking it would somehow cure my phobias. Newsflash: it didn’t. But she always sweetened it with a large heap of honey, and it made the bitter flavor tolerable.

  “Well?” she prompted impatiently from the loveseat, and I sighed.

  Holding the warm mug in my hands, I told her everything.

  Well, not everything.

  I left out the part about how Aiden and I went at it like rabbits, but I started at the beginning with his confession about how devastated he was after his parents’ death and how remorseful he was about not reaching out to me.

  With a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips, I talked about our time at Nuevo Amor—how much I swam, how I ate a clam, rode horseback, produced music, and how I fell in love.

  When I was finished, I gulped at my tea, steeling myself for the possible scolding coming my way.

  Would she tell me I was reckless? Irresponsible for letting my feelings for a guy cost me my career? Foolish for believing we could hide our relationship for that long?

  Instead, a small grin appeared on her face. “You’ve always had it bad for that boy.”

  “He’s not a boy anymore.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “He’s actually really great.”

  “What do you like most about him?”

  I paused to consider the question. There were too many attributes to name. His dimple? His muscles? His voice? The way he hated feet, but loved mine?

  “I think… I think I like the way I feel about myself when I’m with him,” I answered. “Like I’m a better version of me.”

  Mom’s grin grew bigger. “Then that’s how you know it was worth it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about Carson’s tuition,” I said. “They paid me the full amount, so he’ll be set through senior year. Maybe we can even put some of it toward his college.”

  Her hazel eyes softened. “You don’t have to do that, honey. We’re fine. We always get by.”

  “I don’t want you to just get by.” I frowned. “You don’t think I’ve seen you budgeting our groceries over the years? When you really want that cheesecake at a restaurant, but you don’t get it because it costs four dollars? When you see a shirt you like at the store, but you pass it up? You’ve had the same slippers for a decade.”

  We both looked down at the worn material covering her feet. What used to be fuzz was now threadbare mesh in some spots. One of the pink bows had fallen off a long time ago, and the other was holding on by a string.

  “I like these,” she claimed, wiggling her toes. “You and Carson got these for me for my thirty-fifth birthday. They’re worn in.”

  “Worn out.”

  “Perspective, my dear.” She reached over and lovingly patted my knee.

  “What about the new paint you wanted for the house?” I gestured to the beige walls, where it was peeling in multiple areas. “I know you keep those gray swatches in the junk drawer in the kitchen. Or the deck—it needs to be refinished.”

  “You’re too young to be worrying about that stuff. You’ll have plenty of time to think about home repairs when you have a house of your own.”

  “I just want you to have nice things,” I told her. “And if I can help with that, then I will.”

  “And what I want for you is happiness. If that’s Aiden, then I couldn’t be more pleased with the outcome of your trip. Maybe you should keep your money and take some time off.”

  My ringtone made me jump and lunge for my purse on the glass coffee table. I almost spilled my tea, but Mom caught the mug and set it on a coaster. With an understanding nod, she quietly exited the room to give me some time alone.

  “Hello?” I sounded like I’d just gotten done running a marathon.

  “Corrie, thank God. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day.”

  Hot tears welled in my eyes at the sound of the best voice in the world. “Aiden, I tried to call before—”

  “I know. I’m sorry. So, so sorry. Theo and I were dealing with a huge shitstorm this morning, and when I got back to the resort you were gone.”

  Bringing my tea with me, I decided to retreat to my bedroom, passing my bags on the way to the stairs. I could unpack later.

  “What happened?” I asked, taking a left at the top of the stairs. “Ross said you were on a date with Twila. He told me he saw you drive off with her.” There was no heat behind the statement. It wasn’t an accusation or a question, because no part of me thought it was true.

  “Fucking Ross. I swear, if he wasn’t already gone, I’d kick him off the island a second time.”

  “Wait, he’s gone?” I flipped on the light in my bedroom and quietly shut the door. “Because of me?”

  “No. I wish it was that simple.”

  With hushed tones, Aiden went over the sexual harassment fiasco and how they confirmed what Ross had done—or tried to do—to Twila. And now they were having to contact all the other female contestants and interview them to see if they’d experienced the same thing.

  NTT had quite the scandal on their hands.

  Ross’s behavior was likely a pattern that would come back to bite him in the ass. At the very least, he was fired. He’d never work in the entertainment industry again, and depending on how severe his actions were, he could be looking at jail time as well.

  “Wow,” I breathed out, sitting on the edge of my bed. “What a mess. That’s awful. Is Twila okay?”

  “She’s doing a lot better than she was earlier. I swear I didn’t go on a date with her. It was probably Theo who Ross saw in the driver’s seat. Probably mistook him for me because we were wearing the same shirt.”

  “I believe you.”

  “And it turns out, our secret wasn’t much of a secret.” Aiden huffed out a laugh. “Stan knew about you and me. Trisha was about seventy-five percent sure, and even Twila suspected.”

  Just then, in the background I heard the tinkling laughter that belonged to the one and only southern belle, along with Stan’s gravelly singing. The clinking of glasses. More laughter, probably from the crew.

  Sounded like a party was going on.

  And a serious case of homesickness hit me. Well, it couldn’t be homesickness since I was already home, but more a feeling of missing out. Being misplaced. I should’ve been there right now.

  I glanced around my room, looking at my DJ equipment in the corner. The speakers, the single turntable. My setup seemed so small compared to what I’d been using on the island.

  My eyes went to my full-sized mattress. One lone pillow sat against the h
eadboard. The nightlight plugged into the wall was just a plain plastic rectangle.

  It was all so wrong.

  “Aiden.” My voice cracked because of the rising lump of fear in my throat. “Will it always be this way? You, off in extravagant places while I sip at lukewarm liquid from a mug that says—” I tilted the cup to read the scribbly blue letters “—‘I’d Rather Be Scrapbooking?’”

  “No,” he said firmly, then his tone lightened. “I didn’t realize you like scrapbooking.”

  I laughed humorlessly at the absurd idea. “I don’t.”

  “See? Then there’s already a huge hole in your theory.”

  “I’m serious.” I sniffled. “What’s going to happen to us?”

  “Nothing.” He sounded angry at the very notion that we might not work. “No, you know what? Everything. Everything is going to happen to us, baby. And it’s gonna be so great.”

  The reassurance should’ve been comforting, but it only made me miss him more. I swiped a tissue from the nightstand.

  “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Fergus.” I blotted at the wet tracks running down my cheeks. “I promised him I’d come one last time and now he’s going to be expecting me. What if he gets excited every time someone comes in, but it’s not me and he’s sad?”

  A month ago, if someone told me I’d be crying over a horse, I would’ve laughed in their face. I wasn’t laughing now.

  A growl of frustration came through the speaker. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

  “Stop apologizing. It’s not your fault.”

  “Uh, yeah, it pretty much is. But I’ll make a new promise—I’m going to make this up to you. In fact, I’ll start tomorrow. Go to the airport in the morning. I can have a first-class flight arranged for you, and you can be back in time for the finale, as my guest.”

  “I’d love to, but I can’t. I have to go job hunting.” My mom’s suggestion to take time off was tempting, but I would’ve been lost without music. “Maybe the clubs will take me back.”

  “Is that really what you want? To go back to being a DJ?” Aiden wasn’t saying it with judgment—he truly suspected the job wouldn’t be enough for me after I got a taste of music production.

  And he was right.

  “No,” I answered, shrugging. “But it’s better than nothing.”

  “You shouldn’t have to settle for better than nothing.”

  Right again. But I didn’t have many other options.

  “Can we talk about something else?” I pleaded, needing a change of subject.

  “Yeah. How about this—after I get back, the first thing I want to do is see you. I’m gonna owe you like six hundred kisses.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” I smiled a little. “Are you coming straight to Chicago?”

  Aiden made a regretful noise. “No. I have to stop in Nashville, but I’ll find a way for us to see each other as soon as possible.”

  I yawned, because travel fatigue was setting in. More laughter and some cheering came through the speaker again.

  “I think I’m gonna let you go.” I tipped over on my bed, letting my head hit the pillow. I didn’t even have the energy to pull back the purple comforter. “I just want to go to sleep so when I wake up, it’s not today. Because today was terrible.”

  “I know,” Aiden responded sadly. “I’ll make this right, I swear. You can even truth dare me.”

  “You know what? I don’t think we need the truth dare anymore.”

  “Why?” His tone became lighter when he said, “Because you trust me?”

  “With my life,” I confirmed. “And my heart.”

  Yeah, our silly game had been fun, but I didn’t need to issue a challenge. I knew Aiden would follow through.

  “Want me to sing you to sleep?” Aiden asked, and then I really did smile.

  “You’d do that? It probably won’t take long,” I murmured, my eyes already closing.

  “I’d do anything for you, Corrie.”

  The background noise got quieter, and I could tell Aiden was walking to somewhere private. His rich voice started the opening lines of “Memories of Us” by Keith Urban, and the panic I’d been plagued with all day eased.

  Even with thousands of miles between us, Aiden was still my deep end. Maybe he wasn’t here, but he was still with me.

  By the time he got to the second chorus, I drifted off to sleep, slipping into a dream where he and I were together.

  GOD, THIS PLACE SUCKED WITHOUT Corrie.

  I could totally understand why Theo had been such a bear since Hadley left.

  “I need two more stagehands to move these speakers to the left,” he barked into a Walkie Talkie as he stomped by me, sand flying behind his shiny black shoes.

  A new stage had been erected on the beach for the finale. It was twice as big as the one we’d had for the duet sing-off, and although I wouldn’t be performing tonight, the crowd was in for a good show.

  Twila was up first with her single, then Stan. After that, two of Rodeo Records’ top artists would be performing their latest hits—complete with a live band—while the execs came to their final decision on the winner.

  Normally, I’d be totally pumped about such a big night.

  But without Corrie, everything was lacking. The ocean wasn’t as beautiful. The sand, which somehow kept getting into my brown leather boots, was annoying. Even the food didn’t taste as good.

  Trisha scurried by, frazzled because it was up to her to do Corrie’s job. The woman was definitely capable, but I didn’t envy her. The pressure to get the music right for Twila and Stan had to be astronomical, and I knew from watching Corrie that it wasn’t as easy as just pressing a button.

  Vibration against my thigh got my attention, and I grinned.

  Right on time.

  “Hey, baby,” I answered my phone after seeing Corrie’s name flash on the screen.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” Her soft voice was music to my ears.

  “No. Show doesn’t start for another hour.” I paced away from all the hustle and bustle of the crew, heading toward the water. “How did job hunting go?”

  “Funny thing about that—this morning I got a call from The Champion Sisters.”

  “No way.” I tried to inject as much surprise into my tone as possible.

  The Champion Sisters was one of the biggest record labels in Nashville. They were known for their edgier style, and they typically signed artists who combined country with pop. Corrie was a perfect fit for them.

  “Yes way,” she said. “I filled out an application with them over a year and half ago, and I never heard anything back. I have an interview with them tomorrow for an audio engineer position. They’re paying for my flight and everything.”

  “Wow. Congratulations, baby.”

  “Don’t do that.” From the playful lilt in her words, I could tell Corrie was smiling.

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Act like you had nothing to do with it.”

  “And what makes you think I did?” I was having too much fun toying with her.

  “See, the strangest part is I never applied for anything in the sound tech department. All they had at the time was a secretarial opening, so there’s no way they would even know I have the skills to do the job.”

  “All right, you got me.” I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “I did contact them, but I’m doing them a huge favor by recommending you. Honestly, I expect them to send me a fruit basket as thanks any minute now.”

  She laughed. “I haven’t gotten the job yet.”

  “Well, let them sweat it out a little. They’ll survive one more day without you.”

  Still chuckling, Corrie said, “Thank you, Aiden. This would be a dream come true.”

  “I mean it when I say they’ll be lucky to have you.”

  “And something else happened today…”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Apparently, an anonymous donor gave a crap ton of money to the scholarship
fund at Weston. It opened up five spots for disadvantaged students.” Her tone was accusatory. “For the next five years. Five. Do you have any idea how much money that is?”

  As a matter of fact, I did. A half a million dollars, to be exact.

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  “Carson got one of the scholarships.” Corrie didn’t exactly sound happy, and I knew why.

  She didn’t want my charity, but technically, I hadn’t meant for it to be for Carson. Did I hope he’d get one? Yeah. But once that money left my bank account, I had no control over who Weston decided to give it to.

  “I had nothing to do with that part,” I told her. “Yeah, I made a donation, but I have zero say in who gets it. I didn’t even tell them about my association with you, so he earned it all on his own. They probably had him on a waiting list or something.”

  She let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, good. Because he was so happy thinking his talent got it for him.”

  “And he’s correct.”

  I made it to the shore, and despite the fact that the wardrobe team put me in three-hundred-dollar dark wash jeans, I sat in the sand and gazed out at the beautiful scene.

  The setting sun lit up the horizon with fluffy pink clouds. They turned purple higher in the sky. I spied a shade that was the exact color of Corrie’s hair.

  “I miss you,” I said, my voice cracking with emotion. “Stay in Nashville until I get there? It’ll be a couple days. I was supposed to leave tomorrow, but I have to stay here to wrap some things up.”

  “Okay,” Corrie agreed. “Yeah, I’ll stay. I love it there, so it’s not like I won’t enjoy hanging out for an extra day. Maybe I’ll pay Ricardo a visit.”

  I was glad she had friends and connections there already, because if I had anything to say about it, she’d be staying indefinitely.

  After Stranded with a Legend, my main residency would no longer be in Chicago. Most of my time would be spent in Nashville, and that meant Corrie needed to be there, too.

  “Have fun tonight.” Her sweet voice made my heart clench. “I can’t wait to find out who wins.”

  “I’ll call you first thing tomorrow. And you can probably just put another two hundred kisses on my tab.”

  I owed her a lot more than kisses, but I didn’t clue her in on my elaborate plans as we said our goodbyes, I love yous, and ended the call.