Love Letter Duet: The Encore Edition

by Callie Anderson

  “Is that why you were in the car?”

  I shook my head. “Yeah. He’d said, Don't worry, I won't tell your boyfriend that you were flirting with me.” I scoffed in disgust. “As if I would ever flirt with him.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  The sun began to warm my skin from the night’s cold air. I waited a few seconds before I answered. “Because at the end of the day, your career was more important than some ass being a prick.”

  Weston picked up a few of the gravel rocks and tossed them around in his hand. “I only had one rule,” he muttered. “You came first.”

  “It’s in the past now.”

  Weston looked over at me. The sun glistened on his skin and his stormy gray eyes were bright with the morning glow. I knew this wasn’t in the past.

  Axel, Pete, and Travis walked over. “You two hungry?” Travis asked. He was never one to speak unless it regarded food. “We’re thinking of going to Quarter Diner.”

  “I’m down.” Weston looked over at me for my response.

  It was almost seven in the morning and Lyra would be up soon. “I … uh …”

  “Come, Emmy, don’t be a poo face.” Axel extended his hand.

  It was breakfast with the guys, and Jeremy would take great care of Lyra. No harm in some pancakes.

  I sat in a large booth at Quarter Diner, sandwiched between Pete and Travis. Axel and Weston sat across from me, the linoleum tabletop separating us. Quarter Diner had cleared out of its late night partygoer rush and was now filled with the early birds. I flipped through the menu for something different to try, even though I’d order the same thing I always did: two eggs scrambled with cheese, extra bacon, and a short stack of pancakes.

  I sipped on my coffee as the guys chatted about the video and what their schedule would be like for the next couple of months. I was exhausted, drained from a night with no sleep. Without a second thought, I scooped up a pancake and some bacon from my plate and transferred it to Weston’s. Then I reached for some of his home fries and dipped a piece of toast in his over easy egg. It was like second nature. I only realized I’d done something wrong when all I could hear was their breathing.

  I was mid-chew when I looked up and around the table. My eyes trailed to Weston and then down at his plate. Weariness and sleep deprivation had caused me to act as though nothing between us had changed; four years had never passed. Weston knew I liked home fries, but not enough to order my own; he knew I loved a piece of bread dipped in the yolk, and I knew he loved bacon and pancakes. We had done this so many times before.

  Axel laughed and mumbled between bites, “Even after all these years you two still have your routine.”

  I turned to face Weston. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to touch your food.”

  “It’s okay.” He winked at me. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

  I rubbed some sleep off my face. “Ahh, I haven’t been this tired since L—” I bit my tongue.

  Since Lyra was born.

  42

  WESTON

  Emilia was still the same person I remembered. Beautiful, warm, and a workaholic.

  Four years had passed, and although we were older and wiser, she still hadn’t grown out of her stubborn ways. She was making it difficult to see her, but that just made me try harder. I put myself in front of her at every possible opportunity. I was the fruit fly that refused to go away. I even went so far as to request her presences at any event we had. It was the only way I could force her to be near me. I had that power over her, and I wasn’t ashamed to say I fully used it to my advantage.

  I would show up at her office at random times to go over things. I pretended to have questions regarding our events when, in reality, I wasn’t listening to her words, but rather watching the way she fought her eyes from staring at me. I had even gone as far as sitting next to her during Axel and Sally’s couples baby shower.

  Still, she didn't budge.

  She acted like she wanted nothing to do with me, but I was peeling back her layers, bringing out her feelings that she’d buried deep away. It was as if she had forgotten that I knew her better than she knew herself. It reminded me of the first time we met, how she repeatedly pushed me away. But I’d eventually won her over then, and this time would be no different. I knew what love felt like and I wasn’t about to let it slip away again.

  So, I stayed on course with my plan. And, to my surprise, she even stayed with me during the video shoot. Everything seemed to be falling into place. But, of course, there were a few unexpected bumps along the way.

  First, Paulie.

  My fist pounded angrily against the front door of his condo, and then I waited, cracking each one of my knuckles anxiously. Finally, the door pulled open.

  “Yo, West,” he said, his eyes squinting at the sun above us. The bright rays were clearly bothering his obvious hangover.

  I showed him no mercy, though. I had spent the entire night waiting for him to show up with the permits, which he never did.

  “Did you forget something?” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to contain my anger. “Matter of fact, did you forget you were supposed to be somewhere?”

  Not only was the fucker jeopardizing my career but he’d hit on my girl. Anger had boiled in my veins from the moment I learned how he’d treated Emilia.

  Paulie sucked in a shallow breath and picked at the corner of his eyes. “Fuck man. What time is it?”

  Enough was enough. I’d tell him what time it was. Time for him to get a new job.

  “You're fired.”

  “Bro!” He lifted his hands in defense. “Because I forgot to be at a stupid video shoot? You can't be fucking serious. I created you guys.”

  My teeth ground against each other. “First, you didn't create shit. Our talent is our talent. What you did was hold us back for four years because you got us a deal with North Records. I did everything else. I got us out of North records. I found us a new label to work with. I'm the one busting my ass to make sure that our music is everywhere. You don't do shit! You collect twenty percent of our earnings because you follow us around. You're late to everything. You take no initiative.” The rage still coursed through me. There was no calming down now. I was done protecting him. I was officially done covering up for his sleezeball ass.

  “Enough is enough, Paulie. You're fucking fired.”

  My second issue was Chelsea. It wasn't right leading her on while I was trying to win Emilia back. I tried to fall in love with her in the same way I loved Emilia, but that was fucking impossible. Nothing could ever compare to the Invisible Love Letters we shared.

  My hands ran through my hair, and I inhaled a few deep-calming breaths. Gently, I tapped on her door. She had moved back home with her parents while her place was getting remodeled, and I thanked God that it was she who opened the door and not her mother.

  “Hey!” Her smile grew. “I didn't know you were stopping by. Do you want to come in?” She pulled the door open.

  I cleared my throats and shifted my weight on my feet. “Actually, can we take a walk?”

  Chelsea's lips pursed and her eyebrows furrowed for a split second. “Sure, let me put some shoes on.”

  We walked down the street side by side. I had no idea how to end things with her. Chelsea was great, and she would make any man lucky, but I couldn’t love her the way she needed me to love her.

  “What's going on, Weston?” Chelsea asked when we rounded the corner. “You never come over, and you most definitely never ask to go for a walk.” She glanced over at me, and I noticed her smile fade when our eyes met.

  I sighed. “I'm sorry, Chel. Things between us…” I paused not knowing what to say. “Work has been hectic.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Chelsea, you're amazing, and you deserve more than I can give you.”

  Chelsea raised her hand to stop me. She leaned her head to the side and raised her hand to my face. Gently, she brushed her fingers through my hair and lifted up on her toes to kis
s my lips. “I knew who I was dating, Weston. Your life is hectic. I get it. No hard feelings.”

  I sighed in relief. Cupping her face, I kissed her lips one last time. “I'm sorry.”

  Chelsea shrugged. “You think we can finish our walk?”

  “I'd like that.”

  Without the anger that Paulie had caused, and without the guilt of Chelsea lingering over me, I was able to focus on winning Emilia back.

  And I almost had her.

  When I found her at the bar in Seattle, I figured it was my opportunity to swoop in. It was the first time she and I were able to talk without it being forced or work related. There was no one around who knew us, and for the first time since I’d been back, she was able to drop the façade of always being in charge and in control. She was my Emilia. We laughed, and we danced, and I almost fucking kissed her.

  I would have, had she not stopped me. Her fiancé be damned. I was mere inches away from her, and I could smell her perfume. I needed to remind myself what her lips felt like on mine.

  But then she told me not to.

  And I respect her.

  But that didn't mean that I was done fighting for her. It only made me want her more. After I left her in her room, I rushed back to mine. I should have gone to sleep since I had an early day with my mother, but I pulled out my notebook, the same one I swore to never touch.

  I had been writing a song to her over the course of four years. A song that reminded me of our love—the good times and the bad. At first, it was a few scribbled lines on the sheet of paper. Emotions of how I felt. Anger that rushed through me when she left me. Everything in one song.

  I gently tapped the pencil to the piece of paper until a beat formed in my head. Repeating the first few lines over and over again, I created the first verse. Unlike any song that I’d created before, this one was effortless. The melody, the rhythm, and the words all fell into place.

  Emilia was my muse.

  43

  EMILIA

  Early November.

  I sat in my office early on a Thursday morning working on a media kit for a new client. It had taken Brian almost four months to assign him to me, but since I was still very new to the company, and my first client had come with baggage, he’d wanted me to focus mainly on them before branching out.

  Pointless Statement had been asked to join the remainder of Nina Colt’s USA tour starting in the New Year. They would be slated as the second act before she came on stage. It was great exposure for the guys, especially since all of her shows were sold out.

  Things with Jeremy were also moving along. We’d finally set a date for our wedding. It would be a year from now, giving us plenty of time to plan without needing to rush.

  A quiet tapping on glass pulled me away from my computer screen. “Hey,” Brian said as he walked into my office.

  “You're here early,” I joked. I was able to drop Lyra off at Pre-K by seven in the morning, so I regularly came in early to beat the traffic and get a jump start on my day.

  “Meetings all day.” He sat on the chair in front of me. “Actually you're my first stop.” He crossed his hands behind his back.

  Pulling up my calendar, I looked for any meetings I had with him. “I don't have you on my calendar.” I looked between my laptop and Brian.

  “No, it actually came up last night. I need you to fly to Seattle with Pointless Statement. They're doing an acoustic performance at the 88 Blues Club.”

  Taken aback, I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at my calendar. Their performance was this upcoming weekend. “I really can't go on short notice and I would have to get the trip approved by HR.”

  “The band is covering your traveling expenses.”

  “But I'm not their manager. There’s no press involved. Why do I have to go?” It was a single performance in a small venue.

  “They fired Paulie, and Weston is threatening to cancel unless you go.”

  “Of course he is.” He was becoming a prima donna with his random requests.

  “Talk to Marley in HR and she'll set you up with everything.” Brian pushed off the chairs and stood. There was no point arguing. This was part of my job.

  Searching through a travel site, I picked a flight that left LA Saturday morning and flew back late Saturday night. I would only be gone for a total of twenty hours. Since this was on Pointless Statement’s dime, I didn’t care that it would cost a fortune. I wanted to be home when Lyra woke up Sunday morning. I had never been away from her overnight.

  Weston sat on a stool as he sang to the crowd. The light was dimmed and the audience swayed with the music. To date, it was one of my favorite Pointless Statements performances. They had grown as artists and the fans were able to appreciate their true talent.

  I admired each song they did from a booth near the stage. They didn’t really need me here with them; the venue had everything set up, including Paulie’s previous obnoxious request for a spread of food that consisted of brisket sliders, corn fritters, and macaroni and cheese cupcakes.

  The guys had a few more songs to go, but I had a plane to catch. As Weston sang to the crowd, I snuck out the back. To my surprise, it was pouring. When I’d checked the weather earlier, there had been no sign of rain, but the torrential downpour made it impossible to see even a few feet in front of me. I waved a cabbie down and climbed into the back seat.

  “Where to?”

  “Airport, please.” I wiped the rainwater off my face.

  “All flights are canceled.”

  “It’s fine. Get me to the airport please.” I squeezed some of the water out of my hair. The cabbie shrugged and clicked a button on his meter.

  After begging every flight attendant and looking for any flight to LA, I came to the conclusion I wouldn't be going home tonight. Well, the conclusion was made for me when every flight out of Seattle was canceled until the rain passed. Exhausted from the day, I paid another cabbie to take me back to the hotel Marley from HR had booked for me. The guys were probably done with their set and off to an after party I heard Pete talking about early.

  As I climbed out of the cab, I knew I had a phone call to make.

  “Hello?” Jeremy answered. I could hear the Lion King intro song in the background.

  “Hey, babe. My flight was canceled.”

  “I saw, but don’t worry. Lyra and I ordered dinner, we had a tea party, and now she wants to watch The Lion King.”

  I moaned into the phone. “Thank you, for being you.”

  “Anything for you.”

  “Goodnight, I love you. Tell Lyra I’ll be home soon.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I strolled into the hotel, and the lobby bar stole my attention before I made it to the elevators. I didn’t have to be the responsible parent for a night, so I parked myself on a barstool and ordered a glass of Malbec. I needed the alcohol to take away the tension I had in my back and warm me up from the rain.

  I gave Jeremy another ring and said goodnight to Lyra before I ordered my second drink. My clothes were still damp and my hair had curled up, but I was beginning to feel my buzz. My fingers circled around my second wine glass as the chair next to me pulled back.

  Why did he always have to show up?

  “Is this seat taken?” Weston asked. His voice was hoarse from singing.

  “Why are you here? Why are you always popping up?” I motioned around the semi-empty bar. “There are plenty of empty seats. Why this one?”

  “Is it taken?” He cocked his eyebrow.

  “No, but why aren’t you with the guys? Why are you here?” I cried. Weston looked at my almost empty glass and then back at me. “I’m on my second one!” I spat.

  He waved down the bartender and ordered himself a Jack and Coke. When the bartender walked away to tend to his drink, Weston shifted to face me. “I saw you sitting at the bar when I walked in. I thought you were going home tonight?”

  “Flight canceled. Stupid rain.” Weston was damp from the rain also, but he still
smelled like heaven. Cinnamon and leather.

  “You need to be home with your fiancé?” He took a sip of his drink.

  “You can go to your party now.” I waved him off.

  “Nah, no party for me. I’m having breakfast with my parents tomorrow morning.” My eyebrows raised. Last I recalled, his parents lived in California. “They moved up here after Trent passed away to be closer to the twins’ mother.”

  “Oh my God, Weston. I had no idea.” I brought my hand to my heart.

  “It's all right. His funeral was the weekend Harry passed away.”

  I reached out and grabbed his hand. His fingers locked with mine and an old flame that once burned brighter than the sun sparked. I pulled away from him. I couldn’t go down that path again. “How did it happen, if you don't mind me asking?” I brought my glass of wine to my lips.

  Pain coursed through his expression. His thumb and forefinger brushed against the condensation of his glass. “It was an IED.”

  “I'm so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “It was hard at first.” His eyes never moved from his glass as he spoke. “The news came when everything was falling apart. We knew Harry wasn't doing well, and our contract with the label was shit. Everyone was frustrated and it was bad news followed by worse news.” He shook his head as he remembered what he had gone through. “It kills me that I couldn't make it to Harry's funeral, but I went there and paid my respects after I was done with my family.”

  “No one blames you for not being there.” I edged forward on my seat so I was closer to him. “How are your parents? How’s Mama?” I gave him a sad smile as I remembered his grandmother.

  Weston chuckled and took another sip of his drink. “My parents are great, or as good as they can be. They sold their house in Temecula and moved up here to be with Nicole. It's not fair to keep the twins away from her, especially since she is their only living parent now. Nicole’s gotten better and has been keeping herself clean. Teegan and Tess are so big now and they have such little attitudes. I guess that’s the preteen age crap my mother is always telling Pops about.” Weston paused for a second and then his face grew wide with a smile. “And Mama…” He looked over at me. “She talks about you every time I speak to her.”