Plain Return (The Plain Fame Series Book 4)

by Price, Sarah

  The muscles in his jaw twitched, and she knew that he was clenching his teeth. Yet he remained composed, probably because he suspected that they were being photographed by paparazzi and fans from the windows in the airport. “Pick her up,” he instructed. “We need to get going.”

  Amanda glanced at Alejandro and sensed his stress. She suspected that it was not just because of the events of the morning, but more due to being behind schedule. Further delays would alter his afternoon appointments. The unpredictable behavior of a small child would not ease the pressure he already felt on tour. Perhaps, she thought, holding Isadora might help alleviate whatever fears the girl had. Gently, she tried to extract herself from Isadora, but the child’s grip on her skirt was fierce. Eventually, Amanda sighed and looked at the security guard. “Would you . . . ?” she started to ask, but couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “¡Ay, mi madre!” Alejandro stomped down the stairs and reached down for his daughter. His hands encircled her tiny waist as he lifted her into his arms. The girl began to scream, her fingers still holding Amanda’s skirt, unbeknownst to Alejandro. As he climbed the stairs again, Amanda had no choice but to hurry after him, her legs exposed. Isadora reached out to her over Alejandro’s shoulder, tears streaming down her face.

  The flight attendant took a step back, allowing room for Alejandro to carry the girl into the plane and set her into a seat, the edge of Amanda’s skirt still clutched in her fingers. Embarrassed, Amanda quickly slid past Alejandro and took the seat next to Isadora, who immediately crawled into her lap and sobbed against her shoulder.

  Alejandro mumbled something in Spanish before sitting down in the seat facing them. He exhaled and rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearly weary from the stress of the day. With the exception of takeoff and landing, Isadora remained on Amanda’s lap during the entire flight, while Alejandro simply stared out the window, the lack of conversation between them speaking volumes about his frustration, Amanda’s concern, and Isadora’s fears.

  Fortunately, their arrival at the airport in Salvador was less eventful. Amanda carried Isadora down the stairs, the little girl’s arms clutching her neck. Rather than setting Isadora down at the bottom, Amanda continued to hold her as Alejandro led them across the tarmac and toward the airport terminal.

  It didn’t surprise either of them to find paparazzi already stationed in the main area of the airport, the cameras poised to snap photos of the international sensation known as Viper and his young wife, Amanda. Curiosity regarding the small child in Amanda’s arms only increased the value of the photos they were determined to take, despite the security guards pushing them back. Alejandro maintained his composure as he kept his arm around Amanda’s waist, his body partially shielding his wife and daughter from the photographers.

  No sooner had they managed to escape the crowds by sliding into the waiting car than Alejandro’s phone buzzed. Amanda focused on settling Isadora into her seat while Alejandro took the call. More Spanish. When he ended the call, he turned to Amanda and said, “The driver will take the two of you to the hotel.”

  She didn’t think to question him, knowing that abandoning Isadora now would be a terrible idea, one that would do more psychological damage to the child. Still, Amanda knew that the interviewers would question the absence of his wife. And she knew enough about the speed of the Internet and interest of the public to realize that photos of Viper and Amanda with a child would raise speculation. How Alejandro decided to handle those questions was something that she would leave to him. After all, dealing with the public image and the media was part of his world as a professional musician.

  He cleared his throat and looked at Amanda. “Carlos arranged for some prospective nannies to be interviewed. He’ll ask that you meet those he considers qualified.”

  Nannies? She frowned at the thought of yet one more change in Isadora’s life. The child needed parents, not to be put in the care of yet another strange woman. “I’m not certain I understand, Alejandro,” she said slowly. She didn’t want to upset him; they were both caught in the same situation. However, the mention of a nanny had unnerved her. “A nanny?”

  He lifted one eyebrow as he met her gaze. “Sí, Amanda, a nanny to care for the child.”

  “Your daughter,” she whispered as a reminder to him. The rising tension made her feel irritated. She, too, had been blindsided by all this. But she certainly wasn’t going to punish a five-year-old child by creating additional emotional stress for her when she had already been through so much. Oh, Amanda knew what getting a nanny meant to Alejandro: the off-loading of his child’s care to another complete stranger. Even worse, she knew why. “She’s your daughter, Alejandro, and she has a name. You cannot just transfer your responsibility to a caretaker!”

  Again, she saw him clenching his teeth.

  “Of that I am well aware.” His terse and strained voice hinted at his own rising stress level.

  “I am perfectly capable of tending to her,” Amanda told him.

  “I have no doubt.” He pursed his lips and glanced out the window, tapping a finger on the leather seat upon which his hand rested. “Surely you cannot presume that you will be bringing her with you to interviews and the concerts.”

  Amanda bit her lower lip. She hadn’t thought about how this unexpected addition to their lives would affect the rest of the tour. In truth, she hadn’t thought about anything except trying to comfort the child. The entire situation was so unexpected that Amanda hadn’t had enough time to sort out her thoughts about anything. What she needed was time alone with Alejandro to understand everything that had transpired since that morning when she learned of Isadora da Silva and signed those adoption papers.

  “I presume nothing,” she finally said. “But I would think no decisions should be made until you and I have had a chance to talk, ja?”

  For a moment, he did not respond. Amanda watched him as he stared out the window, his eyes now hidden behind his black sunglasses. She had almost given up on hearing a response from him when he finally said, “Fair enough.”

  “Just tell me one thing, Alejandro,” she said, pressing her hand gently against Isadora’s cheek. It was warm and flushed, probably from her earlier temper tantrum and hysterics. “Does she know who you are?”

  He tapped his fingers against the leather armrest in the car and stared straight ahead. After a couple minutes, he nodded his head. “Sí, Amanda, she knows that I am her father.”

  In silence, they rode the rest of the way to the hotel, Alejandro deep in thought and Amanda stroking Isadora’s hair and praying to God that she would follow his will in dealing with this situation. She fought the urge to pass judgment on her husband and prayed for the strength to do the right thing. The child needed to feel warmth and love from her father and new mother.

  But warmth from her father was not something to count on.

  When Alejandro dropped them off at the hotel, Amanda lifted her face for him to kiss her. Instead, he reached out and caressed her cheek. “If you need anything, Dali will be over to help you.” He glanced down at Isadora, his expression lacking warmth and compassion. “Perhaps some new clothing and shoes, sí?”

  Amanda felt a moment of irritation. Was that all he could think about? His daughter’s appearance?

  Amanda realized that he had yet to say Isadora’s name or, with the exception of carrying her up the stairs to the airplane, to reach out to her. Her crossness intensified. Had he no sympathy for Isadora’s loss, not just today but throughout her entire life? From what little Amanda knew, as a toddler, Isadora had been abandoned by her mother and placed into the care of a sickly grandmother and aging grandfather. Certainly it could not have been easy for the grandfather to tend to his wife and raise a small child.

  Amanda had forced herself to swallow her disappointment in his indifference and merely nodded.

  That had been over nine hours ago.

  And A
manda was exhausted.

  She stroked Isadora’s hair as the little girl lay beside her on the king-sized bed in the bedroom of their hotel suite. She was curled into a ball with her head tucked under Amanda’s arm. Her long black hair, still damp from her evening bath, was splayed out over the pillow. The scent of lavender filled the room, a soft and reassuring smell that emanated from Isadora’s skin. Dressed in a new white nightdress, she looked like a sleeping angel, her little hands tucked together and pressed against Amanda’s side.

  When she heard the suite door open, Amanda glanced at the clock: just after one o’clock in the morning. For a moment, she contemplated waiting for Alejandro to enter the bedroom. But one glance down at Isadora told her that there was no need to remain fearful that the child might awaken. Carefully, she extracted herself from the little girl and slid off the side of the bed. Fortunately, Isadora gave no indication that her slumber had been disturbed, so Amanda quietly tiptoed to the door of the bedroom and opened it so that she could slip through.

  Alejandro’s tie was undone and hung around the unbuttoned collar of his white shirt. He stood by the wet bar, a drink in his hand, so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice her approach him.

  “Alejandro?”

  He lifted an eyebrow and shifted his gaze in her direction, peering at her over the rim of his glass.

  “Are you all right, then? How was the show?”

  At first, he didn’t respond. He took a long, slow drink, and then he appeared to savor the taste, swirling the liquid around in his mouth as he set the glass down on the bar. “¡Buenísimo!”

  “Are you drunk?”

  He exhaled and made a face that spoke of irritation. “No, Amanda. That was sarcasm.”

  “Ah.” She walked closer and, standing behind him, put her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed against his back. “And the interviews? Did they go just as well, then?”

  “Even better.”

  She gave him a little squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Alejandro.”

  “Me, too.” Twisting around, he faced her while still letting her hold on to him. After a long moment, he lifted his hand and brushed back a stray piece of her hair. Giving her a soft smile, he asked, “What is it that you always say about God’s plans for us?”

  She nodded. “He has plans for us, Alejandro. We just don’t always know what they are.”

  “No,” he said slowly. “That we do not.”

  “Tell me about the interviews?”

  When he shook his head, Amanda understood that he didn’t want to talk about them. She could only imagine the barrage of questions he had faced, and she pictured him doing the best that he could to dance through the answers with a smile on his lips. But she couldn’t help wondering what answers he had given to the questions regarding the little girl.

  “Tell me about the concert.”

  He sighed and cleared his throat. “It was fine, Princesa. But there was a lot of fussing about the fact that you weren’t there. On social media feeds people speculated that you would show up at the end.” He tried to smile at her, but there was sadness in his eyes. He hated disappointing his fans more than anything, and this showed on his face. “At the end of the show, they would not leave. They chanted your name.”

  “They did what?” She had heard him properly but almost didn’t believe him. “Oh, Alejandro!”

  “Sí, it was not good.” He reached behind him for his drink. “I tried to not linger at the arena and told Geoffrey that I had to get back here. He didn’t argue.”

  Amanda nodded, understanding what he meant: Geoffrey knew the entire story, and unlike Alejandro’s former manager would have done, he wasn’t going to attempt to leverage Isadora’s appearance in their lives to create a surge of media interest.

  “Have you had a break today?” He stood there, swirling his drink in the glass, the ice cubes hitting against the sides and making a soft tinkling sound. When she shook her head, he sighed. “Ay, Princesa,” he said and lifted the glass to his lips for another sip. “What a life, eh?”

  “Tell me about what happened yesterday, Alejandro. Please.” All day she had been waiting. She needed to know the story, to better equip herself with the necessary tools to deal with what lay ahead.

  “What happened yesterday?” He gave a rough laugh, the glass still lingering near his lips. “My world was turned upside down, that’s what.”

  Arguing that both of their worlds had been affected would serve no purpose, so Amanda remained silent. Self-loathing, she thought, is an emotion that doesn’t recognize the needs or emotions of other people.

  “Geoffrey heard from the courts when we landed in Rio,” Alejandro admitted, finally crossing the room to sit in one of the chairs. He yanked at his tie so that it slid away from his collar and then flung it on the ground. “He met with them, realized the validity of the complaint, and spoke with me. What else is there to tell, Amanda?” He shut his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and finger. “I had to make a decision, sí? And I couldn’t just throw her into an institution.” He took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Maybe the old Viper could have. Just quietly tucked her away.”

  “Oh, Alejandro!” She caught her breath at his admission.

  “It’s true.” He flung his head back and rested it against the top of the chair. “I contemplated it, Amanda. For a minute, maybe less. Without you . . .”

  He left the rest unsaid, and she knew what he wanted to say—or, rather, deny having wanted to say. She hurried to his side and knelt beside him, her hand on his knee as she peered at him. “Nee, I can’t believe that. You would have felt something, Alejandro.”

  “You think so, eh?” He laughed again. “I’m not so sure.”

  “The mother?” she prodded, hoping to shift the focus back on to what had actually transpired the previous day and off his feelings of guilt. “What happened to her, then?”

  He stared down at her, sitting by his knee, and reached out to brush a stray hair from her cheek. “You are so beautiful,” he said softly. “I do not deserve you, Amanda.”

  “Alejandro! Don’t say such things.”

  “Ah yes, the mother . . .” He shrugged his shoulders. “I found out she had the baby when she first contacted my lawyers. I don’t know how she got their information. She wasn’t as much of a pobrecita as I thought, sí?” He laughed, but in a mirthless way.

  Amanda suddenly understood that the word pobrecita was an insult. She clenched her teeth, flashing back to the night the women had called her the same name.

  “I settled out of court and arranged to send her a modest amount of money each month,” he continued. “She didn’t come from money, and it must have felt like a windfall. I never heard from her again.”

  “Never?” The word sounded so cold and heartless. It wasn’t a word that she would associate with Alejandro. While he couldn’t claim that he’d walked away from this child who’d been born from what she presumed was a very short relationship—if there’d been any relationship at all!—Amanda felt a wave of nausea at the thought that he had never even inquired about his child.

  He didn’t seem disturbed by the unspoken disappointment in that single word she’d repeated. “Yesterday was the first time that I learned she’d died, this woman,” he said.

  Again, Amanda found herself wondering at the way he talked about Isadora’s mother. How could he have shared something so intimate and beautiful with a woman he did not know or care about? For the first time, Amanda wondered about the things she did not know about Alejandro’s past. She had told him that she didn’t care and that she didn’t want to know about them. But was that true? Not knowing felt almost as bad as she imagined knowing might feel.

  “She deserted the family, leaving her baby with her parents, and took the money to return to Rio.”

  “Oh?”

  “And then she died.”

&nb
sp; “From drugs?”

  He nodded. “The woman from the government, Maria Fernanda, said she overdosed on drugs. The family didn’t want to tell me, in case I stopped paying the money.”

  Amanda gasped. “That’s awful!”

  He reached down and tugged at one of the hairpins that held together her bun. “That’s life, Amanda.”

  “Not my life!”

  He slipped another pin out of her bun and then another, until her hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulder. “In my world, it’s life.”

  She shook her head. “Nee, Alejandro. I don’t believe that. Not anymore. Maybe when you were in Cuba, or maybe when you were starting out. But you don’t walk away from family responsibility. That is not the man that you are. Not now.” She took the pins from him and held them in her hand as he twisted her hair around his fingers. “Maybe not ever. You just didn’t know any better.”

  The mood for talking seemed over as he twisted her hair into a long, ropelike strand. It wrapped around his hand, and he tugged, just enough, to catch her attention. “I know better now, Princesa,” he said, his deep voice catching in his throat. “And I need to show you that I am a changed man.”

  She didn’t need to translate the hidden meaning beneath his words. His insecurities called out to her, loud and clear, through his calm external composure. Like a child who’d been caught doing something wrong, Alejandro needed to be reassured that she forgave him and loved him. She knew all too well that he needed her to comfort him, to hold him, and to let him sleep with his head on her shoulder as she gently stroked his arm. He needed to know that she loved him, no matter what his past sins.

  “Come,” she said as she stood up and took his hand. “You need some sleep, Alejandro.” She helped him stand, and then she walked backward, leading him toward the bedroom where Isadora slept. “Shh,” she whispered as she opened the door and guided him inside, one finger pressed to her lips. “Don’t wake Isadora.”