Nope, I wouldn’t bulldoze my way through this time. I would let the cards fall where they may. I’d learned my lesson about forcing things. I’d forced myself on Blake and was left heartbroken.
I walked out of the jailhouse and called Ashley back. “The tour is on. Let’s do it.”
I felt it best to keep on keeping on. I didn’t know much about Blake, but I knew one thing: when he made up his mind about something, there was no changing it. He didn’t want me. I had to move on. I had a sold-out tour. Maybe that would help me forget or at least distract me from what I was feeling, which was total heartbreak.
I felt all cried out, so instead of breaking down again, I broke out a pen and wrote what would be my next release.
Chapter 17
Three months, five Country Music Award Nominations, and about fifteen concerts later, I was rounding up the US part of my tour back in Nashville, where it all started, before I began the European leg of the tour. I had already done my first two sets and was about to close. I took a break in my dressing room while the opening band took the stage for a couple of songs as I prepared for my encore.
People worked on my face and hair, after which I quickly changed clothes, and then I just sat and waited. This point in every show was the hardest. The part where I was going out to sing my newest songs. “Those Old Denim Jeans” as well as my newest song had both been nominated for awards.
I didn’t know whether it was all the press or what, but my newest song was my biggest hit to date. My new publicist said she thought it was because people felt like they knew me better. I was more relatable since all of that mess had hit the fan. I had a different theory. They loved the song because it was my feelings laid bare. It was still hard to hide when I sang it. I wish I’d never written “Those Old Denim Jeans.” I hated singing it over and over. It wouldn’t let me forget the man who’d made me fall in love in just one night. I hoped someday it would get easier. At least that was what I’d heard.
Jackson Jacobs had done everything he’d promised and then some. The only news that Mick Lennox was reporting was from his private jail cell. He’d been held in contempt when he refused to name a source during the investigation into ALL of his provocative and invasive high-profile reports. He’d done reporting on celebrities and high-profile criminal cases alike. The latter is what landed him in the slammer. He’d been accused of witness tampering and obstruction of justice, just to name a few, and all just to get the scoop.
When the investigation on Lennox began, Logan disappeared…for a minute. Then he was back, trying to hustle me, but I was done. I wasn’t sure of what happened exactly, but I think Trase threatened to make him disappear for good. Anyhow, he moved on to Lacy Waters, where he met his match. She was just about as desperate as he was for publicity. They ended up hooking up and are now expecting a baby. That should be interesting. Either way, I was grateful that he was out of my hair.
I received a semi-anonymous note after my New York show. I knew who it was from. It read:
Loved the show. Lunch next time you’re in NYC…Perhaps a game of peek-a-boo? Kidding, sort of. Love – S
It made me laugh. Stella, a woman so alluring that she drew a crowd of celebrities to her private home, had invited me to lunch. She was flirting as well. If I were interested in women, I was sure she would be my first stop. But that just wasn’t the case.
I stood up, running my hands over the denim of my jeans and tugging at the hem of my tank top. They were the same ones I’d written about in the desert. My fans deserved the real deal.
I glanced in the mirror, making sure that the artist hadn’t left a trace of makeup on my face and that my stylist hadn’t dropped any stray hairs. I always performed these two songs as Maddie, not Roxy. After all, they were about me. I felt I should look like myself when I sang them. I would’ve never done that before my time in the desert, but I was surprised to find that the crowd loved it. Again, it made me relatable, I suppose.
“Roxy,” Trase called from the other side of the door, “you’re up.” He’d become such an asset. He didn’t know it yet, but he and his family were going to Bora Bora. I had them out of Nashville on the red eye after the show. After what I’d put them through, and how hard Trase had worked, it was the least I could do. Especially since the week he came back, we would be headed to Europe for the second half of the tour.
I stepped in front of the crowd with just my guitar, the house lights low with just a spotlight. There was always a moment of surprise when they saw me out of costume, but then the whistles began. That made me feel more at home on stage. I sang “Those Old Denim Jeans” acoustic first. I’d recorded acoustic as well. It’s the only way I would have it.
I wrapped the show with my newest hit. It started slowly with just acoustics as well, but it picked up so it was a good song to finish up with. I still teared up when I sang it.
“You weren’t what I needed,
You weren’t what I’d planned.
I wasn’t looking for love,
Just one dance was all I thought I could stand.
You bulldozed through,
Leaving me in your wake.
Even at your least,
You were more than I could take.
I thought we would be forever,
That was the new plan.
I wanted to be your girl
But you couldn’t be my man.”
That was when the band usually lit it up behind me, but they didn’t. Instead of panicking, I sang the chorus again:
“Baby, I wanted to be your girl,
Why couldn’t you be my man?” Trying to prompt the band. I heard some crackling in my earpiece, indicating that there were some technical difficulties. I pulled out the thing and strummed my guitar to stall.
“I wanted to be your girl—”
“I’m here to be your man.” A deep voice spoke, echoing throughout the arena. I looked to the side of the stage and saw Blake Westin walking across the stage toward me in his camos. I thought I was imagining it, but the crowd went nuts.
“Please, let me be your man.”
“Blake…”
“I was scared and stupid. Really, really stupid. I’m sorry,” he said into the microphone. I could see Trase stage left. The look on his face told me he’d had a hand in this. Blake wasn’t detoured by the screaming crowd. He didn’t seem to notice them at all. Every time he spoke, they went silent. I can only imagine it was like watching a live soap opera.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. Partly because you keep writing these freaking songs about us—” He laughed, and so did the crowd. He’d captured them. “But mostly because you make my life better. I know it sounds crazy. Believe me, I’ve turned it over and over in my mind trying to figure it out. And you know I’ve had time to think about it in the desert. The problem is that there’s only one explanation: I’m in love you.”
I shook my head, looking down at the floor. I had to prop my guitar against the stool to wipe the tears from my face.
“I just didn’t know how to handle all of this, but I’ll learn. Please give me a chance. I’m telling you that I’m in love with you. Will you say something?”
I pulled the strap of my tank over to wipe my face, grabbed my guitar, and leaned into the mic. These people had paid to see a show. I meant to finish it. Instead of answering Blake, I whirled my arm in the air like he’d taught me when I first met him to signal the band.
The band lit up the stage as Blake gave up and started to walk away.
“Of course, I’ll be your girl,
And you’ll be my man!” I sang.
I dropped my guitar and ran to him. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off my feet. I kissed him. I didn’t realize he still had a mic in his hand.
“I love you too, Blake!”
The crowd went crazy. Blake tossed me over his shoulder and carried me off stage. Trase and he shared a nod as we walked by. When we got to my dressing room, I fumbled with his jacket, but he stopped m
e, holding my wrists in place.
“Maddie,”
“What is it?”
“No more screwing around, okay?”
“Excuse me? I never screwed around on you! I thought we were past this?”
He laughed. “No, I meant… Make an honest man out of me.”
“What?”
Suddenly the door opened, and my whole family and his walked in, Aimee’s baby bump leading the way.
“What is this?” I laughed.
Emmy walked up to me and handed me a little box then took Blake’s hand. Blake looked me in the eye and said, “Maddison, will you join our family?”
I twisted my mouth to the side. “Like move in?”
“Marry us!” Emily shouted. Everyone laughed.
I hesitated only for a moment to think of how much the man in front of me meant to me. How many tears I’d cried for him and how I knew I would never be the same for meeting him.
“Yes,”
“Yeah?” Blake responded with a smile.
“Yeah, soldier.”
Epilogue
Roxy Royce-Westin was seen flaunting her tiny baby bump while on the beach with her family in Turks and Caicos this week. Taking a hiatus from the limelight, stating that she wants to “Enjoy her pregnancy,” she couldn’t have looked happier.
She was accompanied by her husband of a year, Blake, their nine-year-old daughter, Emmy, and their newly adopted addition, ten-month-old, Brody. Roxy’s brother, his wife, and their little one were also enjoying some fun in the sun.
When recently asked about the scandal with her former flame, Logan Mason, Roxy commented, “I’m very grateful that I left the States to escape that madness, because that’s when I met my husband. It just goes to show that from darkness comes light.”
Roxy is set to accept her star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame next week. It seems there’s no slowing down this rising star!
Thanks again for taking the time to read my books. If you enjoyed it please take a minute to leave a review on Amazon.
Book 1 in my new serial killer series can be purchased by clicking HERE.
Available Titles
Hollywood Series
Love Reconnected (Book 1)
Love Ignited (Book 2)
Love United Book 3)
Aubrey Drake Series
Do No Harm (Book 1)
About the Author
Avery Michaels is a novelist and college instructor. When she’s not writing she can be found chasing her son and her gigantic dogs around her hometown of Trussville, Alabama. She’s also a car dancing enthusiast and master at can’t-carry-a-tune karaoke. You can follow her shenanigans on Twitter @averymichaels_ or visit her website: www.averymichaelsbooks.wixsite.com/averymichaels.
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