Homecoming Queen: A Second Chance Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 2)

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Homecoming Queen: A Second Chance Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 2) Page 12

by Fabiola Francisco


  “What’s our next step?” my dad asks.

  “We file a formal complaint to Human Resources. Right now, you sent a letter to your manager that was passed along. We don’t really know if Human Resources saw it or if they’re acting on their own, but this is a business, and we have to follow the guidelines to have the best results later.”

  “It’s ridiculous. A man can assault a woman, and she has to follow fucking guidelines?” I seethe.

  Our lawyer presses his lips together. “I don’t agree with it, and if this was my daughter, I wouldn’t want to follow the rules, but ultimately it will make the process quicker. If we don’t, and you’re already at risk with their claims that this is all a lie, you chance the possibility of not being taken seriously.”

  “Jesus…” I breathe out, rubbing my temples.

  “We’ll also file an administrative charge to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. Like that, both are already filed if the response from HR isn’t what we hope it to be.” He continues to explain the process, and I watch in a daze, wondering how the hell I ended up at this point in my life.

  I question every decision I made to get here. Did I lead myself down this road, deserving this as part of my punishment for the way I acted when I was younger? If I had stayed, talked things out with Tate, and made a decision together, would my life be different?

  How terrible would it be if I just walk away from it all? Settle outside of the courtroom, demanding they release me from the contract, and just live in Willow Creek, working at the winery. Would that be enough for me? I may not have a choice.

  With our next step planned out, we finish our meeting, and I head into my room. It doesn’t take long for a knock to sound on my door.

  “Can I come in?” My mom peeks her head through a crack.

  “Yeah,” I nod, sitting back against the headboard on my bed.

  My mom settles beside me. “No matter what happens, we’ll always be by your side. We know the truth, as do you, and that’s what matters. Your heart and what you carry in it matters. Don’t let them win before the fight is over.” She grabs hold of my hand, squeezing it tightly.

  I nod silently, biting back tears.

  “Madison Rose Carlisle,” her voice is stern. My eyebrows lift at the intensity of it. “You are talented, beautiful, and kind. You’ll work through this with the same courage you had at eighteen and moved to Nashville to chase your dream. It’s embedded in you.” She taps my heart with her finger.

  “What if they win? They’re asking for an impossible amount of money, almost as if it’s a way to get me to stay at the label and work to pay it off like some kind of slave.”

  “Truth always wins,” she nods with confidence. I wish I felt an ounce of that confidence because all I can see right now is years of debt or be forced to work for them to pay it off.

  “Trust, baby girl,” she smiles.

  “I wish I could, Mom, but I’m scared. At this point, any opportunity to continue as an artist is gone. No one will trust me if they believe them. But if they win? I’ll be ruined beyond the material. If they win, they continue the cycle. I won’t be the last. I have a feeling he’s not the only one acting this way. If he were, they wouldn’t defend him so strongly.” I close my eyes as I speak it out loud. I haven’t wanted to say that to anyone to avoid it being true, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.

  “Justice comes to those who deserve it.” She pats my leg.

  “I hope you’re right, Momma.” I lean my head on her shoulder, accepting her support.

  After some quiet moments, she breaks the silence. Searching my face, she says, “Now…tell me what’s going on with Tate.”

  My eyes widen, and I look at her. “What…what do you mean?”

  “Well, you’ve been spending more time with him.”

  My body slumps. “I don’t know. He asked me out. He said he’d call on his day off—I think tomorrow—to make plans.” I shrug. “I don’t…” I shake my head.

  “Hey, now.” She tips my chin to her. “You deserve to be happy.” She kisses the side of my head, and this time I can’t hold back the tears. They silently roll down my face.

  “I hurt him real bad,” I say. “I don’t think I deserve his forgiveness, and I definitely don’t need him to get caught up in my mess.”

  “Madison,” my mom says soothingly. “Everyone deserves a chance to prove their love, prove they’ve learned from their mistakes. As for your current situation, Tate is the one to decide if he gets involved or not.”

  “That’s what he told me,” I sniffle.

  “Then give yourself the chance to be happy.”

  “Is it that easy?” I look up at my mom.

  “It sure is. We decide if we’re going to allow happiness or punish ourselves. Make the wise choice.”

  Her words sink in. Is it really as simple as making a choice? Maybe if Tate had the choice to come with me instead of me interfering in his decision, things would be different. I still fear he would’ve found comfort in someone else while I was too busy building my career. Or he would’ve come back home and left me. It would’ve been harder to lose him then.

  “Now,” she lightly slaps my thigh. “Let’s go outside and make sure Charlie and Chloe didn’t eat all the cupcakes before lunch.”

  I chuckle. “Chances are slim, Mom.” We stand from the bed, and I hug her. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “No need to thank me, darling.” Her arms hold me a little longer.

  “Okay,” I step back and smile, wiping my face. “Let’s go make sure they left us some cupcakes, or I’m gonna have to bake again.”

  We head downstairs, and Charlie and Chloe scream my name when they see us.

  “We were looking for you!” Charlie calls out. “Will you teach us the guitar again?” She bounces on her toes.

  “First, did you leave any cupcakes?” Her eyes widen, and lips crush together. Her expression is comical.

  “We did,” Chloe nods.

  “How about Grandma and I grab cupcakes, and then we play some music?” I smile at the two girls who own my heart. Being an aunt is the best gift.

  “Yes!” They say in unison, fisting the air.

  I head upstairs to grab my guitar while my mom gets our cupcakes. I meet them in the living room and begin teaching them the chords and simple hand movements. Charlie tries first as I guide her hands and help her strum.

  It’s a little more challenging for Chloe since she’s smaller, but we make it work, and her responding smile lights my heart. She’s been going through such a difficult time that I’m grateful anytime she shows positive emotion.

  At some point, my dad joins us, trying to steal my mom’s cupcake. I watch them quietly, wondering if I’ll ever have the kind of love they share. Through it all, they’ve been there for each other. It seems like Miles is the lucky one in our family. Brett had it and lost it. And me… Well, I had it and threw it away.

  After lunch, I cuddle with my nieces on the couch while they watch some cartoons. My eyes droop as Chloe scoots closer to me, her head on my shoulder. A nap would be great. As I’m dozing off, Charlie speaks.

  “Aunt Maddy…” I peek one eye open and look at her. “Do you wanna get ice cream?” She gives me a cheeky smile.

  I laugh. “Haven’t you had enough sweets already?”

  Her nose scrunches up in the most adorable way. She’s a sneaky weasel. She knows I’ll say yes.

  “Fine,” I surrender. “But we bring it home.” I don’t want them out with me for too long. Hell, I don’t want to be out for a long time.

  “Okay.” She sits up quickly. “Grandma!” I laugh at her enthusiasm.

  “What do you say, Chlo? Wanna get some ice cream?” I tickle her in the ribs. She squeals with laughter and nods as she begs me to stop tickling her.

  “Come on.” We get ready to head out, and I accept a ride with Paul. There’s no use in going in separate cars for something like this.

  The short drive is fill
ed with questions about why Paul is always around me. Explaining the best that I can that it’s for protection since I’m famous, they nod as if they understand. I’m grateful they’re too young to truly understand all that comes with fame.

  We’re quick to make our order once we’re at the ice cream shop, and a few locals greet us. Thankfully, no one is mean. It’s one of those times I’m grateful that the town admires our family so much. I’ll take the pressure of being small-town royalty for their support during this time.

  I order a pint to-go for my mom and dad and even buy a cup of ice cream for Paul, who refuses to accept it until I arch a brow. He nods and smiles as he grabs his cup. As we make our way out, I freeze. Paul is instantly in front of me, shielding me from the camera.

  “Fuck,” I mumble and look at the girls. Their eyes are wide with concern. They’ve been through enough that they don’t need to be subjected to the paparazzi.

  “What’s goin’ on, Aunt Maddy?” Charlie looks up at me.

  “Don’t worry. They’re just tryin’ to take my picture. Paul will protect you, okay?” They nod, ice cream long forgotten.

  “Paul.” I lean forward and talk to the back of his ear. “Take the girls. Don’t let them photograph them. I’ll cover myself and go straight for the car. Detour, so they don’t follow, got it?” He gives me an imperceptible nod.

  “Girls,” I squat to talk to them, holding both closely. “Stay with Paul. Do not talk to anyone, and look down. Got it?”

  They nod, faces etched with worry. I smile to ease their minds and hug them tightly.

  Paul shields the girls by his side, leaving me open, which puts the attention on me instead of the girls. I smile politely and walk a few steps behind them, so they aren’t in the circle of attention.

  Questions are thrown my way as another photographer appears. They all yell questions at the same time.

  “What do you want to get out of RWB Records?”

  “Is it true that they did this?”

  “If so, what do you plan to do about it?”

  “Are you retiring?”

  I remain silent and walk toward the car. No answer is the best response. I learned that a long time ago. As soon as I slide into the back seat, Paul guns it. I look at the girls, who look back at me with wide eyes.

  “Are you okay?” I ask. “I’m so sorry.” I hug them to me.

  “Why are you sorry? They should be sorry for taking your picture,” Charlie says. Sometimes she’s wise beyond her years.

  “It’s because they think she’s pretty,” Chloe chimes in, taking a bite of her ice cream.

  I smile. “It’s part of being famous, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Yeah,” they nod.

  “I was a little nervous at first,” Charlie says.

  “I know, sweetie. I’m so, so sorry. Had I known they’d see us, I wouldn’t have brought you.”

  Fortunately, it seems like they’re okay. The initial surprise got to them more than the experience, all thanks to Paul. Once he’s sure no one is tailing us, he takes the road back to our home. I’m glad my parents have an iron gate with security blocking the house.

  Charlie and Chloe tell my parents what happened as soon as they storm into the house. I explain the situation a bit more calmly, frowning. It’s been an emotionally exhausting day. I expect those photographs to appear online within a few hours.

  At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if they said I have secret daughters I’m visiting in Willow Creek. They might even throw in a nasty divorce where I lost my parenting rights due to drug addiction or something, even when country music fans admire me. They’ll make up anything to get that clickbait working.

  After ice cream, we’re settled back on the couch while my father calls the sheriff. The girls sit on either side of me, heads resting on my shoulders.

  My phone buzzes, and I see a message from Tate. Opening it, I smile as I read his simple message. He’s thinking about me.

  Tate: Hey, how are you?

  I wonder if he heard about the photographers.

  Maddy: I’m okay

  Instead of a message, my phone starts ringing in my hand. I sneak away from the couch and head up to my room, answering the call.

  “What’s goin’ on?” His greeting comes in the way of a concerned question.

  “Just a long day,” I sigh as I settle on my bed. “Aren’t you working?”

  “We have some downtime. Tell me what happened.” His voice drops, and I assume he’s trying to maintain his privacy.

  “I got some bad news from the lawyer about the case, and then—” A loud bell rings in the background.

  “Shit, I gotta go. I’ll call you in the morning,” he promises.

  “Okay.” The call ends before I can finish the word. I can’t imagine how fast they have to get ready and be out of the firehouse when an emergency is called in. Praying it’s nothing major and he’s safe, I lean back on my bed and close my eyes.

  Chapter 17

  Tate

  I called Madison on my way home from work, anxious to know what happened. She promised to update me once I got some sleep, and I’ll admit I was exhausted. After the emergency call we got about an accident, the night went from slow to nonstop. Regardless I insisted, but she wouldn’t budge in typical Madison stubbornness.

  Fully awake now after a few hours’ sleep, I call her while I make a cup of coffee. My schedule’s all out of whack from working twenty-four hours, and breakfast usually starts around lunchtime.

  “Hello?” Her soft voice makes me smile. I exhale and lean against the counter with my coffee mug.

  “Hey,” I say before taking a sip.

  “Hi.” I hear a smile in her voice.

  “Talk to me. I’m wide awake now.” I grab a banana and walk toward my couch with my breakfast of champions. I’ll need some real food soon.

  “Long story short, the label is suing me for defamation, claiming I’m ruining their reputation with my lies.”

  “Fuck.” I was not expecting that. That makes two lawsuits on their part.

  I run a hand through my hair and sit forward, tension rolling through my shoulders. “It’s bullshit, though. They’re the ones lyin’.”

  “I know,” she whispers. “It’s basically their word against mine. We’re taking the steps necessary to be able to sue for sexual assault.” I hear the pain in her voice. “God, I never thought those words would come out of my mouth.”

  I wish I were there with her. “I want to see you. Now?”

  “I don’t know… I took the girls for ice cream yesterday, and photographers were waiting for me outside. It’s a mess.”

  “I’ll go there, then.” So much for our date.

  “They’ll see you, Tate. I don’t want them to harass you.”

  “Maddy, you need to let me decide what I’m okay with. I want to see you, at whatever cost. Damn it.” I take a steadying breath and regain my composure.

  “By the bridge?”

  I smile at her suggestion. “That’s perfect. I’ll see you there in an hour, okay?”

  “Yeah. Paul will be around,” she regretfully states.

  “I know, but it’s for your own good.” As much as I hate that we don’t have complete privacy, if the media’s around town, I’m glad she has him protecting her since I can’t be there all the time.

  I finish my coffee and eat the banana before I take a quick shower. If we can’t go on a proper date, I’ll take the date to her. Stopping at The Grind, I order some of their frosted sugar cookies. Then, I head to the grocery store for some beers and order subs from the deli. Who says you need a fancy restaurant to impress a girl?

  I don’t have a picnic basket, but I have those reusable bags my mom insists I own. I guess they do come in handy. Stuffing everything in there, I drive out to the path that leads to the bridge.

  By the time I get there, Madison is already sitting on the bridge with her shoes off, her feet swinging back and forth. I nod at Paul, kee
ping my eyes on her. She’s gorgeous. In this moment, she reminds me so much of the girl I fell in love with—sweet, innocent, and all mine.

  Her head turns, and a smile lights up her face when she sees me.

  “Hey,” her voice is quiet.

  “Hi.” I make my way toward her. She eyes the bags as I drop them and sit beside her.

  “What’s all that?” She tilts her chin toward them.

  “Since we can’t go out, I thought I’d bring our date here.”

  Her eyes round, and her lips part as she looks at me with an array of emotions. I smirk and reach for her hand.

  “How are you really?” I keep my eyes on hers.

  Madison sighs and presses her lips together. “Tired of it all.” Her response doesn’t surprise me. I don’t know how she deals with it. If it were me, I’d say fuck it and walk away.

  I crack two beers open and hand her one. “Tell me what’s next.”

  We drink our beers as she tells me what she understands of the process. It seems once Human Resources has a formal complaint, they can move forward. That way, she has a paper trail as proof that she’s been following the steps necessary and communicating with the company.

  “How about the person that saw you? The one you told me that broke up the moment?” If she knows who it is, they can testify as a witness.

  She shakes her head. “I have no idea who it was.”

  “Maybe they’ll speak up now that the news is out?” I’m hopeful for her sake. I hate not being able to fix this. If I had to lose her, I’d want at least one of us to be happy. But for this…it’s almost like a sick joke.

  “Who knows?” She looks down at the water. She’s scooted closer to the edge and has her feet dipped into the water despite its cold temperature. I place my beer behind me and reach for her. Wrapping her in my arms, I breathe her in and close my eyes. Madison’s arms come around my back. Her hands fist my shirt as if that were the only thing keeping her afloat.

 

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