Trey

by Madden, A. M.

  “Camilla, what do you do?” Jack asked.

  “Graphic design, right?” Leila asked, impressing me that she remembered from that intimidating meeting I had with their lawyer.

  “Yes… mostly reworking corporations’ websites.” I could feel Trey’s eyes studying me closely. “It allows me to make my own hours, work from home.”

  “Be there for Alivia,” Leila said, embellishing my point.

  “Right. I’m very lucky.” I reciprocated Leila’s warm smile before asking, “How old are your kids?”

  “Our oldest, Shane, is seven. Then we have four-year-old twins, Madden and Siarra, and our youngest is fourteen months. I can’t wait until you meet them. They’ll be home from day camp soon, and Drex is napping.”

  “How do you juggle four kids and a demanding career?”

  “During the week, I couldn’t do it without Bev, our nanny. On weekends, though, Trey can attest to the fact this place is chaos.” I purposely schooled my expression, not wanting to tip her off how shocked I was that they had no help on weekends.

  “That’s an understatement,” Trey said with a smirk.

  “On that note, let’s relax while we can.” Leila stood and asked, “Jack, can you help me?”

  “Sure, babe.”

  Once they walked away, Trey came and sat in the chair Leila had vacated. “Are you mad?”

  I wanted to say I was furious, but how could I be? There wasn’t a trace of arrogance in the way he asked, or in the worried lines of his handsome face. Surprisingly, I understood his motive of bringing me there. He was trying to get me to see the real him. This cocky always-so-sure-of-himself man was insecure and didn’t trust himself to show me the real Trey Taylor.

  “No, I understand why you pretty much tricked me here,” I said, narrowing my eyes. And in an uncharacteristic move on my part, I laid my hand on his arm and, while ignoring the subtle widening of his eyes, added, “And I’m glad you did.”

  Chapter 13

  Trey

  After Jack and Leila put out a tiny spread of finger foods, and Camilla finally agreed to having a glass of wine along with Leila, we all fell into a comfortable discussion.

  Camilla’s questions came easily about the band and touring. With each one she asked, I wondered if it was for her own curiosity or for a specific agenda. And I hated having suspicions when it came to Camilla, because that made me no better than her in judging a person without truly knowing them. Regardless, I couldn’t help it.

  Through a monitor propped on the end table, we heard Drex fussing before he released a full-blown wail. “Camilla, would you like to come with me to get him?”

  She nodded eagerly and then followed Leila up the stairs.

  “You okay?” Jack asked in a low voice once we were alone.

  “I don’t know.” He quirked up a brow, forcing me to explain. “She’s hard to read. I can’t help but wonder if she’s taking notes, building a case, just waiting for me to screw up.”

  Jack studied me for a long while. “Screw up how?”

  I released a sarcastic huff. “Do you really need me to list the ways?” Shit, there were at least a hundred bad habits I could easily fall back into, not that I would. But before now, if I had it would be on me, and the only people my actions would disappoint were my bandmates. The stakes had suddenly gotten a lot higher, and the repercussions could have me losing Alivia forever.

  “No, I get it.” Jack glanced down at his beer. “I guess what I meant was, you seem solid. If finding out about Alivia is fucking with you, then I want to be sure you’re talking about it and not bottling it up.”

  I couldn’t blame my friend for assuming that I was solid or to worry that I wasn’t any longer. I’d had a few slipups since I’d returned to them. I wasn’t perfect. And it didn’t help that over the years I had perfected hiding behind my truths… keeping those closest to me in the dark.

  Fuck, it had taken a solid ten years before they all found out Trey Taylor wasn’t my real name. It took that long to finally fill them in that I was actually from Utah and not upstate New York as I had originally claimed. They knew none of that, nor did they have any idea that I was the son of the man who killed the first girl I ever loved, and who tried but failed to kill me afterward. Once I lost Taylor, whose name I had taken when I ran away from the hell that I lived in, I never dared to love another until I met Tara.

  Since Tara died two years ago, that skill I had of pretending that life was great had come in handy. My tolerance for heartache was pretty fucking high, and the ability to make light of situations and appear bored with life helped me skate through. For the most part, I was solid… as long as I didn’t dwell on all I’d lost and resisted a constant formidable urge to numb myself.

  The way Jack stared at me with unmasked concern forced me to say, “Hey, I don’t want you to think I’m one step away from falling off a cliff. But every time someone comes into my life, I can’t help but wonder when I’ll be losing them.”

  “Trey, you can’t go through life that way. You need to focus on the now, the blessings you have at this very moment.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know… and I plan on discussing this with my therapist next week. Doesn’t mean my subconscious is on board with that.”

  “Someone wants his daddy,” Leila said from the top of the stairs. She carried Drex down with Camilla close on her heels. I watched as she cooed at the baby, a lightness in her expression that I’d only seen appear when she was with Alivia.

  “Hey, buddy,” Jack said when they stepped closer. He held his arms out for his son, but at that moment Drex spotted me and pointed his chubby finger my way. “You want Uncle Trey?” Jack asked him. When his little legs pumped excitedly, I caught Camilla’s stunned expression.

  “Come here, bud,” I said, forcing Leila to bypass her husband and bring her son to me instead. I opened my arms for my second-biggest fan in the Lair household, the reason that I was revealed when I positioned him on my knee and bounced him up and down. He giggled and clapped, making me look like a pro at this parenting thing. Little did Camilla know I was a one-trick pony… actually, that wasn’t true. This method worked for anyone under the age of two, and anyone older—which included the rest of the Lair brood, as well as Hunter’s, Scott’s, and Evan’s kids, were all charmed by my guitar-playing skills.

  As I made horse noises, I tried not to read too much into Camilla’s continued silence. Thankfully, Siarra, Madden, and Shane barreled through the door with their nanny, Beverly, in tow. When Shane was the first to spot me, I suppressed my smug grin. This was exactly what I had up my sleeve when planning this day.

  “Dad! You didn’t tell me Uncle Trey was coming over.”

  Jack laughed while peeling the backpack off his son’s shoulders. “He wanted to surprise you.” Taking that excuse for what it was worth, Shane beelined for me, plopped his body down, and began filling me in on every detail of his life that had happened since I last saw him two days ago.

  Shane never stopped talking. Not when Madden plopped down on my other side, or when Siarra planted a juicy kiss on my cheek, or even when Drex babbled unhappily because my bouncing knee had stopped.

  During it all, Camilla observed the way I interacted with the kids, and it was hard to ignore her stunned expression.

  I knew this was a good idea.

  Leila had given Bev the night off, wanting the kids to eat with us. That made our dinner noisy, chaotic, and just what I wanted Camilla to witness. Although our jobs seemed glamorous and hard to imagine, our personal lives were extremely normal. And as we sat eating Leila’s delicious homemade lasagna, I knew there was another place that I wanted Camilla to experience. The Lairs’ beach house.

  I could vividly envision our daughter playing with the kids on the beach or helping Siarra corral her massive doll collection along the pool’s edge. Maybe she’d even like to play baseball with all the boys or hold my hand as we jumped the waves… something I’ve never done in my whole damn life.

&
nbsp; Camilla helped Leila clean up after dinner. We stayed while the kids were given baths, and while I read them bedtime stories. Afterward, on Jack’s suggestion, we had coffee on their rooftop terrace as Leila shared stories from the days when I barely spoke to her.

  “I definitely wore him down,” she said to Camilla with an affirming nod. “Once I wiggled my way into his heart, his only line of defense was to tell horrible jokes and try to get me to blush.”

  “It’s not hard to do,” I argued. “Lei… what’s better than roses on your piano?” Predictably, she dragged in a breath and released it. “Tulips on your organ.”

  Jack and I laughed just as her cheeks tinged pink. While shaking her head, she raised a hand in my direction. “See?”

  Camilla mimicked Leila’s initial response before saying, “That was awful.”

  “No worries. If that one didn’t do it for you gals, I’ll just try harder,” I said on a wink.

  “Please don’t subject her to that,” Leila begged.

  Just then, Camilla’s cell began vibrating on the table, where she had placed it. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s Alivia wanting to say good night.” She answered the call, saying, “Hi, my sweet girl,” and strolled away from us to the farthest corner of the balcony.

  “She’s fantastic,” Leila whispered, even though Camilla wouldn’t be able to hear us.

  “You’re getting the nice Camilla. I get the hostile, angry one.”

  “You can’t blame her, Trey.” Before I could argue that point, Leila raised a hand and added, “She’s in mama bear mode.”

  “I agree,” Jack interjected. “Lei will rip your damn head off if you mess with her babies.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I grumbled, having experienced that firsthand. When fuck is every other word in your vocabulary, it tends to slip out at the most inopportune times. “I just hope she’ll finally see I’m not the man she thinks I am.”

  “I think she already does see that.” Leila quickly glanced at where Camilla chatted with Alivia. “She asked some questions when we were upstairs… mainly how the kids handle the fame. I explained Jack and I are extremely private with our personal lives, but we also avoid situations that put our kids in danger of being exploited.”

  “What did she say to that?”

  She paused. “She said that kind of attention terrified her.” Camilla’s walking toward us halted the conversation from going further.

  “Everything okay?” Leila asked.

  “Yep. She’s staying over at my friend’s house and just wanted to say good night. This was really nice. Thank you.” She then turned her focus to me. “It’s getting late. I should get going.”

  “Whatever you want.”

  After Leila gave Camilla her cell number, reminding her to call whenever she needed to talk or had a question, we left with promises to get together again very soon.

  I didn’t push her into talking as we rode the elevator down. I got that my fame was still her issue and confiding her fears to me would be counterproductive. But once we got outside and started the short walk to my place, I needed to make one point.

  “Camilla, please take Leila up on her offer if you need to talk. She means it when she says she’s there for you.”

  “I believe that,” Camilla easily replied. “And I understand why you took me there.”

  Even though it was dark out, and not many were on the street, I cautiously watched a guy walking toward us. His eyes met mine and widened, but before I allowed time for recognition to hit, I took Camilla’s elbow and quickened our steps.

  Despite that it was practically around the corner, Leila hated it when I walked home alone. But when Camilla glanced at me with so many unspoken questions in her eyes, I nodded confidently. “We’re fine. By the time they realize who I am, I’m usually long gone.”

  “Okay.” She grew quiet, and I couldn’t help but feel like a “but” was coming. And as we approached the corner side by side, sure enough, she said, “But… that happens often? The crazed fan?”

  “Usually they’re females. It’s all part of the territory.”

  “And by territory you mean your career and all the dangers that come with it. Usually…” An intentional pause preceded her point. “Doesn’t necessarily mean that it can’t happen.”

  “No, it doesn’t, but…” I emphasized the one word she used to prove my own point. “Having a lot of money makes it easier to dodge those dangers. I walk home only when it’s dark out, and only because it’s a short distance. Otherwise, I have Alec with me, or I’m with Jack and Leila, and their security is with us. We’re safe, Camilla.”

  She stared up at me and responded with a slow nod, but I knew she had a lot more to say and wondered if she eventually would.

  Chapter 14

  Camilla

  Since spending the evening with the Lairs two weeks ago, Trey had been a different person. He no longer just showed up without warning and instead had called each Sunday to discuss what days that week he’d be able to see Alivia.

  Trying to be more accommodating to his requests, I, in turn, shared her dancing school and softball schedules so he knew the days that didn’t work for us. Although he said he would love to have seen her dance and play ball, before I voiced my concern, he quickly admitted that appearing at those activities was probably not the smartest thing to do. So instead I video called him so he could watch her pirouettes and at bats in real time.

  On the days he did come by, Alec dropped him off just before Alivia got home from summer camp. He continued to bring her presents, but as I had suggested, they were much smaller tokens such as stickers or a book. He would then spend a few hours coloring, catching her favorite show, playing with dolls, or even coming to the park again to watch her play. With each sweet moment he shared with my daughter, he’d managed to chip away at the rock star monument I had erected in my mind.

  One evening, after Alivia begged for Trey to stay and have pizza with us, he actually looked at me for approval. When I nodded, he gave me a breathtaking smile before responding to her with an animated “yes.”

  Afterward, we then all walked up to the main avenue to get ice cream, and my ever-so-curious daughter asked him why he was wearing a baseball hat and sunglasses when it was dark out. I had to suppress my grin as he stumbled, not having a clue how to respond until he finally said it made him look silly, and he liked making her laugh.

  On cue, she giggled adorably and moved on to the next question, which had to do with his favorite ice-cream flavors. As ridiculous as it may be, at that moment, as I had when I’d seen him playing with dolls, I began looking at him in a different way. Until then, evidence he wasn’t the man that I thought he was had begun to slowly stack up in his defense. Yet it was that simple exchange he had with Alivia that, for some reason, flipped a switch within me.

  The problem… that switch seemed to flip something else within me as well.

  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. I now wondered what he was doing, imagined him in his apartment. I searched the internet for concert footage and found myself watching every clip I could find. I read snippets that his wife had written about his life. I read the articles that detailed his meltdown after she died.

  Through it all, I hated having treated him as I had. Trey had a horrible life. At only eighteen, his father had killed his first love but made it look like a suicide. Trey changed his name, left Utah, and ran to Los Angeles with enough evidence to put his father, Reverend Barton, in jail. For years afterward, Trey kept looking over his shoulder in wait for his father to get revenge.

  Finally, having found some peace, he’d met his band and began a new life in New York. Things were great, and when he met Tara, she changed him in so many ways. No longer the promiscuous rock star, he finally found love again.

  But unfortunately, his climb to fame put him on his father’s radar. That led to another horrible tragedy when his uncle abducted Tara and tortured her for days to avenge his brother. The FBI got involved and the stor
y made national news. It must have all happened during the years that I avoided reading anything about him.

  If that hadn’t been enough, he’d gotten Tara back only to lose her in a senseless motorcycle accident.

  My God, from what little that I read it seemed that poor man had been through hell and back. No wonder he’d hit rock bottom as he had. And there I was keeping his daughter from him because of an assumption I’d held on to for way too many years. Every bad choice he made, every time he ended up on a cover of a magazine with another woman, there was probably a reason behind it.

  It didn’t take long for Debbie to pick up on my change in attitude… the effort in choosing my outfits and styling my hair may have tipped her off. Of course, she called me out on it, and I denied it all. Because, really, what was I supposed to admit to… allowing my crush on Trey to ignite again after all the resentment I’d carried for years?

  Yeah, that wasn’t at all insane on so many levels.

  The insistent honking of a horn outside snapped me back to reality, and a quick glance at my phone revealed it was almost time to pick up Alivia. I’d gotten nothing done since dropping her off that morning and would now have to work well into the night to meet my deadline.

  After grabbing the keys to the car that I gave in to and started driving… yes, he’d worn me down… it was only a few minutes later when I idled in the pickup line waiting for her adorable face to appear. When she spotted the black car I’ve grown to love, she waved and skipped her way over.

  The way her pigtails sat askew on the sides of her head, along with the smudges visible on her tank top, meant it was a good day. She loved everything about summer camp. The tomboy streak in her was able to get its fill with all the outdoor activities she participated in. But the girl who loved to do arts and crafts or play pretend supermarket had all that at her fingertips as well.