The cup falls from my hand and shatters on the floor as I catch the end of the news segment.
“They seemed like a match made in heaven. We’ve been given no information regarding the cause of the break, but the statement confirmed they were splitting amicably and would forever remain and cherish their friendship.”
“They seemed so perfect together,” the second announcer adds. “Stay tuned as we bring you footage of Kipley from their friendship and intimate years.”
That can’t be right. I flip open my computer and wait with the patience of a toddler while it boots. I type in “Kipley” into Google and find thirty articles posted in the last hour. I click on the first article to discover Samantha issued a statement publically ending my relationship with Henley.
“No,” I say to the computer.
I bury my hands in my face and read the article again. Maybe I read it wrong. I click on another article when that doesn’t pan out for me. The second article reads virtually the same, and so do the other twenty-eight articles in the list. She broke up with me through the media.
I pick up a canister nearby and throw it at the wall, shattering it into pieces.
“Fuck!” I scream and push my hands through my hair.
I light another cigarette and get my temper under control.
Samantha.
I pick up the phone and call her. I have to wait while her assistant patches me through.
“Samantha Davenport,” she greets.
“Sam? Why?” I ask.
“Kip?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus Christ! Where the fuck are you?” she raises her voice.
I blow the smoke out of my lungs, “Colorado.”
“Did you get my message about New York?” she clips out full of anger.
“Yeah. I’ll be there. Will Hen be there?” I ask full of hope.
“What do you think?”
“Why? Why did she do this?” my voice cracks.
“You’ve been gone nine months. Nine mother fucking months you selfish prick. You might as well have died with the hell she’s been through!” she screams at me through the phone, causing me to pull it away from my ear.
“What the hell? Is she okay? What happened?” I panic.
Oh fuck. I stayed away too long.
“You want to know what she’s been through? Do you want to know what you put her through? Go to New York and ask her yourself, pussy.”
“Sam, give me something. I’m begging,” I plead.
“Well, she didn’t get out of bed for a while. Cory got her into kickboxing to give her purpose instead of waiting around all day pining for you. Cory has this friend named Josh who owns the gym, and he helps train her too. I have to say if I was into dick, I’d ride that fine ass mother fucker every day that ends in a –y. He’s sweet on Henley, offering her a shoulder to cry on, a drinking buddy, and an ear when she needs to talk about how much she fucking hates you,” she says and then hangs up on me.
I stare at the phone.
No. No. No. No.
I don’t think about it before I call Henley’s number. She doesn’t answer, so I call back. I repeat twenty times until I know she’s sending me to voicemail.
“It’s Henley, leave a message,” her voicemail says.
When the beep sounds I just barely recover from hearing her voice for the first time in nine months.
“Hen.” I pause. “I don’t even know where to start. Just… don’t do this. Please don’t do this baby. Please.”
A beep cuts me off so I call back only to be sent to voicemail again, so I leave another.
“I… I know I was gone too long. I get it, but you didn’t have to do it this way,” I breathe through the emotion that causes my eyes to water and my voice to change. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I was gone so long. I didn’t mean to put you through hell. I’m so fucking sorry,” I cry on the last sentence and hang up.
I book a ticket to New York and hop on the first flight I can find. My mind is consumed with her through the entire flight.
What did I do?
When I get to my hotel room I power on my cell phone hoping to have a message from Henley. What is waiting on me is a message from someone who makes the guilt swell inside of me.
“Kip, it’s Jasmine. Where are you? I came by your place and you’re not here. I brought some things to make us dinner.”
“Kip, it’s Jasmine again. I’ve waited for two hours, so I’m just going to go home. I hope everything is okay. Call me soon please.”
Chapter 26
Kip
I tap my fingers on my thighs as I sit in the conference room of the label’s building. My friends enter the room one-by-one and embrace me in hugs, telling me how happy they are that I’m back. I’m relieved they want me back after the statement Henley had issued. I’m back to fulfill my contractual obligations with the label, but that shit takes a back seat to winning Hen back. I don’t know how I’m going to get through to her.
I know the minute she’s entered the building as the butterflies dance faster and faster the closer she gets to me. Through the glass conference room doors I see her, Jessica, Cory, and Joe walk through the lobby and speak to the receptionist. She’s wearing dark skinny jeans, a wife beater, and a gray vest that shows off the wife beater perfectly. Her feet are donned in sky high kitten heels. The woman is a walking wet dream.
She smiles as reception waves her to the conference room and engages in conversation with Cory that has her smiling. Cory opens the door for the women and they enter. She sucks the air right out of the room. Her smile fades to an impassive face when she steps through the door. Everyone exchanges greetings with her except me. She shakes the hands of the record executives and takes a chair towards the head of the table closest to the executives. She’s in the power seat. They know it and she sure as fuck knows it. Her eyes never reach mine. My palms are sweating as I wait for the moment, the moment when her grey eyes fall on me. I need to see what passes through her eyes when she sees me.
“Thank you for meeting with us today,” Richard, the vice president, says.
“We understand per our contract both bands still have fifteen tour dates to fulfill. We would like to make this happen as soon as possible so we can all move on with our lives,” Henley says in her business voice.
“Yes, we need to schedule the tour dates as soon as possible. We’ve had our tour management team propose dates for the venues that were cancelled nine months ago. I’ve drafted four proposed schedules for you to look at. Let’s figure out what works best for all of us,” Richard says as his minion passes out the calendars.
I watch as Henley takes in each of the tour schedules, and I wonder what’s going through her mind. What does she want out of the last leg of this tour? For it to be over as soon as possible? She’s always rolled with the punches when it came to touring and now she seems to be in a hurry to get it over with. Something else is going on. I know her so well that I know something else is behind her rush. Is it me? Or something else?
“Schedules three and four require us to wait over three months for the leg to begin. That’s too long,” Henley says and slides the calendars to the middle of the table.
“We weren’t sure how long the bands would require before you were prepared to tour,” Richard says.
“We’ve been doing this over a decade, so we’re good to go. I appreciate the concern and understanding the label has extended to us during the last nine months,” she replies.
“It was no problem. The circumstances were tragic and something we’ve never dealt with, so we knew time was needed,” Richard tells her.
Henley turns to look at the rest of us, “I am fine with the first or second schedule. You guys decide.”
She lets the guys discuss it and her eyes finally land on me. I don’t know what the men around me are discussing, all I can do is look back at her. Her eyes are hard and difficult to read. She’s never looked at me like this befo
re but I’ve seen the expression somewhere before and it takes me a moment to place it.
Jagger. She looked at Jag like this when he broke her heart.
Fuck. I broke her heart. I had hoped Samantha was embellishing, but it is clear to me now that she was not. My eyes break the contact and find Jagger’s who is taking in Henley’s facial expression, then he looks to me with pity all over his face. He remembers that face.
“I think we should go with the second schedule. This schedule will give us two weeks to prepare,” Koi suggests and everyone agrees.
“Great, I’m glad we’ve got that settled,” Richard says and tells his minion to contact the department who will plan the tour. “Both bands have fulfilled their contracts. You are no longer contracted to record any further albums with us. We are open to negotiations now so we can renew the contract.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Henley says. “I appreciate all the support the label has given over the years and we are very proud of the music produced under this label, but I think it’s time for us to go in a different direction. As we’ve grown in age, our music and goals have grown as well.”
Richard leans back in his chair and places both hands behind his head as he takes in the woman in front of him.
“May I ask if you’re signing with another label?” he asks.
“No. If that were the case I would open negotiations with you before I signed on with another label,” Henley answers.
“You’ve become a businesswoman over the years, Henley,” he smiles at her.
She chuckles, “Well you know what they say. This industry makes you its whore. I’m tired of being a whore, figuratively speaking of course.”
Richard grins, “Of course.”
“I’m starting my own label with Red,” she says.
“I had a feeling this would come to pass. I had just hoped I had more time,” Richard replies.
She’s starting her own label.
“May I ask if you’re still going to record?” Richard questions.
“I don’t know. It’s all up in the air. I’m more excited about the possibility of finding new talent and putting their music out there for the world to hear. I want to produce as well,” she answers.
“Perhaps we can still work with one another one day,” he says.
“I’m sure our paths will cross many more times, Richard. You’re a good man. That’s a quality I don’t often see in this industry, so I appreciate your support,” she smiles at him.
“And Broken Access?” Richard asks us.
I look around the table to see that all members of my band are as shocked as I am by Henley’s revelation.
We look between each other, attempting to read each other’s minds but there’s too much confusion, shock, and apprehension in the mix to read one another.
“Is there a room we can meet in privately?” Koi asks and Richard’s minion guides us to another room.
“Did you know?” Cam asks Koi.
“No,” he smiles. “But I’m loving the sound of it.”
“Shit, me too,” Jagger agrees.
“Henley won’t fail. If she wants a label she’ll have it and we all know it will be a musician friendly label,” I say.
“Hen will build a brand that surpasses the names that have dominated this industry for decades,” Jagger grins.
“Why didn’t she tell us?” Cam asks.
“Who knows with her… maybe she wanted to make sure we were given the opportunity to make the decision we wanted. If she had told us beforehand, it would’ve looked like she was stealing us from this label,” Koi answers.
“Makes sense. She either wanted us to believe in her, or continue with this label,” I say.
“I’m with Henley,” Cam says with a huge smile.
“Everything she touches turns into gold,” Jagger chuckles.
“I’m with my sister. I also want a part of this label. I want to build it from the ground up,” Koi says with dreams in his eyes.
“I’ll follow her over a cliff with my drumsticks in hand,” I finish.
We all nod and reenter the main conference room.
“Well?” Richard asks and I notice Henley doesn’t make eye contact with any of us.
She stares down at the tablet in front of her, but I see the anticipation, anxiety, and fear of rejection weighing on her.
Koi smiles, “I’m going to be honest with you Richard. We had no idea about Henley’s plans for a label until the moment you heard it for yourself.”
“I got that,” Richard chuckles.
Jagger adds, “The thing is, we’ve all been in this together for a long damn time. Red Newman was the glue that held it all together in the beginning, and somewhere along the way Henley Hendrix became the glue, both personally and musically. There is no musician I trust more than her. Her direction has never led us astray, and I don’t think it will now.”
Cam continues, “Red Newman’s opinion was the one I sought out for many years, and then Henley’s became the opinion that held weight above all others. If I heard twenty ‘no’s’, but she had a yes, I’ve always followed her advice and she’s never been wrong.”
“If she starts her own label, Broken Access will sign with her,” I finish. “There wouldn’t be a Broken Access without her. We lost her guidance for four years, and we struggled more during that time that we did in the beginning of our careers. If she leaves the label, we naturally have to follow.”
I look at her the entire time I speak and see her wipe her eyes as they are still lowered onto the tablet. Her lip quivers just a touch, enough for me to see. She is happy and overwhelmed with emotions.
“I’ve sat in this very chair and listened to musicians tell me they were starting their own labels and their plans for it. I have never said the following words to them, but I mean them from the bottom of my heart. I’m proud of you all. It’s been an amazing ride watching all nine of you, Caleb included, grow into household names and not take shit from anybody. I’ve watched you develop your sound and grow a fan base rock bands haven’t enjoyed since the sixties and seventies. I knew this day was coming, and while I’m sad to see you go, I know what’s in your blood. It is only natural that you move into this role. If you ever need advice, call me. I don’t want to see you fail. I wish you the best of luck,” Richard says and stands to pull Henley into a hug.
We all exit the conference room with the adrenaline of the gamble we just took riding high. Richard shakes each one of our hands and we crowd onto the elevator. I’m shoved into the back corner, and I look up to see Henley’s back facing me. I take a risk.
I reach out and touch my fingertips to hers. Her head turns to the side and her eyes close slowly, so I place my thumb in the middle of her palm and begin small circles. I squeeze her hand when just the act of touching her palm becomes too much. I’m hard as a rock.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper among the hype still present in the car. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
She nods as if saying she heard me, but I’m not sure if she accepts the apology.
The car reaches the lobby and Cory purposely stands behind her as she moves out of the car, blocking me from any further access. He looks down at me.
“Not here,” Cory issues.
I nod and swallow.
***
Kip
I flew back to Georgia by myself. I took a day to explore parts of New York I’d never seen. I really just wanted to give Henley time to accept that I’m back. I rent a car and leave Atlanta to make the two-hour drive back to Macon. I sit at a country four-way stop for twenty minutes while I decide which way I should turn. My heart makes the left turn as I head to Henley’s.
She’s playing fetch with Cash in the yard when I pull down her long drive. I see her squint at the unfamiliar car and walk towards the porch with Cash and inside, most likely to retrieve a gun for her unexpected visitor.
I knock on the door moments lat
er, and I hear the distinct sound of a gun chambering a round. If I wasn’t semi-terrified, the sound would probably give me a hard on. She opens the door just a crack and I look into her beautiful face.
“Hen,” I say softly.
She leans her head against the edge of the door, her eyes downcast.
I take another step towards the door, “Baby?”
Her hands slides down the edge of the door slowly until it reaches the door knob. It pauses on the knob and then pulls inside. Her face disappears, and she closes the door.
“Hen?” I say. “Baby, please open the door.”
I knock, but I know she won’t answer it. After a few more knocks, I sit on the first step of her porch and wait. She has to come out eventually.
An hour later, Jagger and Koi pull into the drive.
“Hey man,” Jag says with a sympathetic expression.
The front door opens and I jump off the top step. Her gun is holstered on her side and she drags two trash bags onto the porch and picks each one up and throws the heavy bags at me.
“You aren’t to step foot in this house. I’m not over being angry at you. Nine mother fucking months you left me! You don’t get to say you’re sorry and think everything goes back to the way it was. You left me! You left me and I fell apart. Not again. You and Jagger can both go fuck yourselves. What am I to you men? Some stupid bitch who keeps rolling over and over for you while you rip my fucking heart out? I’m done. I’m fucking done with love. I can’t do this shit anymore, because my little heart can’t take another beating.”
She marches back into the house and hauls out some more bags of what I’m assuming are my belongings. I don’t move from my place on the porch, but Koi moves into the house and helps her. He brings the remaining bags out in four trips while Jagger and I watch on in shock. Eventually Jag breaks through the fog and begins to load my bags into Koi’s truck and his car.
It hits me, I don’t have a home. This is exactly what scared the shit out of Hen when I moved in. I don’t have a home. I don’t have anywhere to go. My mother is dead and I won’t set foot in that house ever again. I have nowhere to rest my head and no one who will listen to how bad I fucked up. I can’t tell anyone how badly I really fucked up.
Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4 Page 116
