Epic Love Stories--Complete Box Set

by Kelly Moore

  She wipes the smear of lipstick off my mouth with her thumb. “Good. Now let’s get out there and dance.”

  Neither one of us slept all night. I didn’t want to let her go this morning, but her plane left at eight a.m. I’m going to miss her; we’ve barely been apart since the day we met. I think about how far she’s come from the sad girl on stage to a big, bright, shining star.

  Piles of mail lay on my desk, sent to Gypsy. Letter after letter from fans wanting to say how much they love her or want something from her. She’s come a long way, but I don’t think she’s ready to be immersed in this part of her fame. I hired more bodyguards for her since I couldn’t travel with her this time.

  My phone skates across my desk as it vibrates. Greg Bakker’s name lights up the screen.

  “Hey, Greg.”

  “Congratulations on your marriage. Sorry I couldn’t make the wedding yesterday.”

  “It’s okay. Lyla planned it all pretty quickly.”

  “Did she fly out to Seattle yet?”

  “Yeah, she left early this morning.”

  “Good. I wanted a chance to talk to you when she wasn’t around.”

  “Why, what’s up?”

  “I’ve been inundated with calls about her. Television stations are clamoring to get her on. An overseas contact wants her to come to London.”

  “I think you should wait and discuss this with Lyla.”

  “She’s going to be even bigger than I originally thought. Lyla is going to be one busy lady.”

  I’m happy for her, but it may all be too soon. “She should have some control over what she wants to do. I know you own her, so to speak, but you may want to go a little slower with her.”

  “Has she shown any signs of distress?”

  I rock back in my desk chair. “No, she’s been great, but I don’t want her to be pushed too hard. She’s still terrified of fans.”

  “The security team that you and I hired seems to have it all under control.”

  “Please just wait until she gets back from this trip to see how she does.”

  “You got it. Did you hear I had to break the contract with Stormy Weather?”

  “No. What the hell did Axel do?”

  “He got drunk and showed his junk to some groupie.”

  “I’ve never understood why a man would do that. I can’t think of one person who got a date from it. Besides, it’s totally disrespectful to the woman.”

  “I have a zero-tolerance policy for that shit. It’s too bad. He ruined his career. Nobody in this day and age will pick him up on a contract. The most he’ll get is playing back in dive bars where he started.”

  “That’s too bad, man.” I sit and roll my chair forward to look at my schedule. “I have a solo male singer this week that’s country, and an all-girl rock band on my docket.”

  “Have you heard either one of them play before?”

  “No, they’re both new to me, but I’ll let you know how it goes. If it’s something I think you’d be interested in, I’ll send them your way.”

  “I still have this check in my file. Did you ever figure out what you want done with the money?”

  “I’ve set up a scholarship fund in Jacob Flynn’s name. The money will go to a talented musical artist that would never be able to afford to go to college. But, don’t mention it to Lyla. I haven’t told her yet. I’ll email you the information, and you can send the check directly to my attorney.”

  “Will do. You’re a good man, Jameson.” He hangs up.

  Chapter 15

  Three months later…

  * * *

  “It was so good to have a couple of weeks off. I’ve missed you.” She lays her head on my chest, and I caress her back.

  “I’ve missed having you in bed with me. I don’t seem to sleep as well alone anymore.” I draw the satin sheet up over us.

  “Me either. At least we have telephone sex.” She places a kiss on the center of my chest.

  “I’d much prefer the real thing.” I playfully swat her on the ass.

  “Did I tell you I saw Axel at my last concert?”

  “Where, backstage?”

  “No, he came over to my table after the concert. My bodyguard let him through because he knew that I knew him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He started to speak, but it was slurred. Something about I got lucky. Nick realized he was drunk and had him removed. It kinda scared me.”

  “Why are you only now telling me?”

  “I don’t know, maybe because Nick handled it.”

  “He’s been pretty bitter according to Greg. His stupidity and alcohol cost him his career. I’ll make sure to talk to the security team to keep him away from you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Have you worked out the details on appearing on television?” I continue to stroke the smooth skin on her back.

  “I go to New York next week.” She raises up on her elbow. “Why don’t you come with me? We could go to one of those fancy Broadway shows while we’re there.”

  “I’d prefer a baseball game.” I chuckle.

  “Then let’s do it. Rearrange your schedule and go with me. It’s only for a few days. You’ll love it. They have me performing outside. I’m told it’s already a sold-out crowd.”

  “You seem to be getting more and more comfortable with the fans.”

  “I am, thanks to Nick making me feel safe.”

  “Nick, huh?” I roll her over and pin her to the bed. “Should I be jealous?” I nip at her neck.

  “I don’t know, he is tall, dark, and handsome,” she teases.

  “Totally not your type.” I move down her body.

  The bedside alarm clock goes off. “Shit! I’ve got to get going.” She scrambles out from underneath me.

  “Five minutes is all I need.” I throw the sheet back.

  “I set the alarm for the last possible minute for me to get out of here.”

  “Can I at least drive you to the airport?” I get up and pull on my jeans.

  “No. Elliot and Joe are”—a horn blows—“meeting me downstairs.” She points to the window. “Promise me you’ll meet me in New York.”

  “Send the dates to my calendar, and I’ll be there.”

  She finishes dressing and runs a brush through her hair. I drag her suitcase, which she lives out of, down the stairs and put it in the van. “When are you guys purchasing a bus to travel in?” I ask as I shake Elliot’s hand.

  “We’ve been looking at them, trying to find something that will meet all our needs.”

  Lyla comes flying out the door. “I love you, baby,” she says, kissing me.

  I open the door for her to climb inside. “Take care of my girl.” I point at Elliot.

  She was right; the streets are filled with people outside the newsroom. A wooden stadium has been erected with large speakers on either side in the middle of Madison Square Garden.

  “There you are.” Lyla comes running into my arms.

  “My flight was delayed. Sorry I didn’t make it here sooner.”

  “You’re forgiven. Have you seen the crowd outside?”

  “They’re all here for you, baby.”

  “Mrs. Wilde, it’s time.” Nick peeks around the corner, pointing at his watch.

  “Okay. Will you come outside and watch?”

  “I’ll follow you.”

  Nick pushes open the steel door that leads down a small alley to the back of the stage.

  “Gypsy!” someone screams and runs toward us.

  Lyla stops in her tracks. Nick heads off the woman a few feet from Lyla. I see Lyla wrap her arms around her waist and tremble.

  “It’s okay. He’s got her.” I force her hands down and hold one of them. She has a blank stare on her face. I release her hand to stand in front of her. I place both my hands on either side of her face. “Hey, Lyla.” She doesn’t blink. “Look at me.”

  She finally does. “It’s all right. If you want to cancel, we’ll turn around
and walk out of here.”

  She whispers, “She has the same hair color.”

  She’s talking about the fan that came after Red. “It’s not her.” I grab her hand again and turn her around to go back inside.

  “You’re right. It’s not her.” She stops me.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  She nods.

  I walk her to the steps that lead up to the stage. The crowd is so loud, the metal floor is vibrating. She turns and takes one last look at me. “I love you, Jameson. Always remember that,” she says and walks out onto the stage.

  The concert went off without a hitch, but Lyla was shaken when she got off the stage. She said the girl was in the front row, and it was an eerie feeling.

  “I had to hold it together. I almost puked on my shoes right in the middle of singing.” She orders a cocktail on the plane.

  “I haven’t seen you drink in a while.” She looks out the window of the plane.

  “I need something to calm my nerves.”

  “You can stop anytime you want and go back to singing in bars.”

  “This coming from the man who wanted everyone to hear her music,” she mocks

  “I do, but I don’t want you to start going backward.” I point to her drink.

  “It’s one drink, Jameson.” She picks up her cup and drinks it.

  She’s quiet on the rest of the flight home and eventually falls asleep, drooling on my navy shirt.

  “Hey, babe, we’ve landed.” I lift my shoulder, and she sits up.

  “Wow, I guess I was tired.” She brushes her hand along the wet spot on my shoulder. “Sorry.”

  We both unbuckle. I grab my carry-on, and we head to pick up her luggage. I order an Uber. When he arrives, I put our luggage in the back. Lyla gets in, and I hear the driver saying, “Aren’t you Gypsy?” His voice is high-pitched and excited.

  She says no and gets in the back. I get in and see him glancing in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called a limo driver,” I say close to her ear.

  “It’s okay. It happens a lot now. I’m just still shaken from that woman.”

  He keeps looking over his shoulder at her. “Hey! Keep your eyes on the road,” I bark at the driver.

  “I’ll order us some food instead of going out tonight.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  We get home, and Lyla draws a bubble bath with one of her fancy-smelling concoctions. Her eyes are closed, but she’s humming a tune.

  “Is that something new?” She nearly jumps out of the tub at the sound of my voice.

  “For god’s sake, Jameson! You scared me.”

  “Sorry.” I sit on the side of the tub.

  “Would you like to join me?”

  I strip out of my clothes and get in behind her. “So, is that a new song?”

  “Yeah, something I’ve been working on.”

  I take the loofah from its hanger, fill it with some sweet-smelling soap, and rub it over her chest.

  “Is it a love song?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “What do you mean? You write the lyrics.” A chuckle vibrates through my chest.

  “Not to this one, not yet anyway. It’s a melody that’s been stuck inside my head.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good place to hang out.” I laugh, and she splashes me. “I have something I want to tell you.”

  She looks over her shoulder at me. “Sounds serious.”

  “No. When a record label signs my clients, I make a percentage of the sign on. I didn’t take the money when you signed with Monster Music.”

  “Why not?”

  “I told Greg to hold on to it. I wanted to set up a scholarship fund.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “I set up a fund that will grow over time.”

  “Still not following you.”

  “It’s the Jacob Flynn Musical Scholarship. It will go to talented kids who can’t afford to go to college.”

  She completely turns around and faces me, splashing water onto the ground. “Why would you do that?” Her hand is on my chin.

  “Because I love you, and I wanted something to honor your son.”

  Big tears spill down the corner of her eyes. “I can’t believe you’d do that.” She wraps her entire body around me. “Thank you, Jameson.”

  Chapter 16

  One month later…

  * * *

  “It’s good to be back in the Nissan Stadium. I wish I was always this close to home.” She lays down her guitar on the steps of the empty stadium.

  “This place will be a madhouse tonight.” I watch her walk down the steps to the green field.

  “I’m sad you’re not going to be here tonight.” She holds her arms out and turns herself round and round with her head raised in the air, taking in the warmth of the sun on her skin.

  “I tried to reschedule, but they’re clients of Greg’s. His recording studio is being completely overhauled, so I agreed to let them come here. The only time they could do it is tonight.”

  “At least I’ll be able to come home to you.”

  “I love the sound of that.”

  “Are you ever going to be able to travel with me full-time?” She sits cross-legged on the ground.

  “I’ve looked at your schedule for the rest of the year, and I’m trying to keep those dates cleared, but I can’t guarantee it.” I join her on the grass. “We knew getting into this that we’d be apart some.”

  “I know. I just find life easier when I’m with you.”

  “Elliot told me that you’ve been drinking more.” I nudge her with my shoulder.

  “Rat.”

  “He’s concerned, that’s all. So am I.”

  “Sometimes I like to forget.” She picks at the grass beneath her. “I know you and I have a good life, and I love you, but sometimes this darkness creeps inside, and I miss my old life. I miss Jacob and Red.”

  I’m not sure what to say.

  “I don’t say that to hurt you.” She rubs her hand down my arm.

  “I know. I don’t expect you to stop missing them. I was hoping that I’d heal that darkness in you, but sometimes, I’m afraid I can’t reach you when you go there.”

  “Sometimes, I’m afraid I won’t make it out of the darkness.” Her voice is hushed. “You can’t unbreak the broken, you can only let love seep in and bandage the cracks.”

  “I think I’d feel the same way if I lost you.”

  She stands. “Don’t say that. You’re bigger than life to me. I wouldn’t want you to curl up and die on the inside.”

  “Don’t you see that you’re bigger than life to me too? I tug at her hand to sit back down beside me. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? I don’t mean on the outside, even though you are, I mean on the inside. The songs you create tell a story, and it’s beautiful. That’s why so many people relate to you. Have you ever seen the stacks and stacks of fan mail I get for you weekly? There are stories after stories of people who feel what you sing to them. Many of which said you saved them from taking their own lives. Do you know how powerful that is?” I brush a piece of hair from her face.

  “I’m not the person they think I am. There’s no power in me. I take it day to day and try to figure out how to go on.”

  “Even with me?” I thought we’d come further along.

  “Before you, it was minute by minute. There are times during the day, when I’m with you, that I don’t think about them. I cherish those moments when the pain doesn’t seep in. It’s at that time I feel alive, then I feel guilty for still being here.”

  I draw her into my lap. “God, I wish I could make all that disappear completely for you. Not that I don’t want you to remember them, but for the pain of losing them to be gone.”

  “You can’t do that. I’ve told you it lives inside me. It’s a living, breathing beast all its own.” She kisses my forehead.

  “If you ever go back to that place, please tak
e me with you.”

  “I love you, Jameson Wilde.”

  I press my forehead to hers. “I love you too, Lyla. Don’t ever forget that. I’ll always be here for you. Please, let me love you.”

  There, in the middle of the open, empty stadium, I make love to my wife. To all of her—the happy parts, and the dark parts that lie beneath the surface. I love this woman in her entirety, and I wouldn’t trade one day of our lives together.

  We both redress ourselves, and I help her off the ground. “I know we’ve never talked about this, but do you think you might ever want another child?”

  She stops smoothing down her hair and stares at me. “No,” she answers quickly, and her tears begin to fall.

  “I’m sorry, I just thought…”

  “It would help me forget Jacob?”

  “No, baby, that’s not what I meant at all.” I try to take her in my arms, but she backs away from me. “Lyla.”

  “I could never risk going through that again. Not even for you, Jameson.”

  I put my palms in the air toward her. I broach her like a frightened child. “I’m sorry. I’d give you anything you wanted, and if you wanted a baby, I’d give you that, but if that’s not what you want, I’m all right with that too.”

  She runs into my arms, almost knocking me down. “I’m sorry, Jameson,” she cries.

  “It’s okay, baby.” I kiss her tears away. I stand and hold her for the longest time before she takes a deep breath in and lets go of her tears.

  “Let’s go. Fans will be starting to get here soon.” She takes my hand, and we grab her guitar on the way out.

  “Have you seen Lyla!” Elliot is screaming into the phone over the music playing in the background.

  “What do you mean? Isn’t she at the stadium with you?”

  “No, man. It was bad.” He sounds frantic.

  “What was bad, Elliot?” I leave the live sign on and walk out of the control room with the solo artist still singing.

  “That son of a bitch Stormy Weather!”