“Hayden?”
“Sweet Briar?”
I blew out a breath. “I fell in love with you.” I hung up before he could respond.
“What did he say?” Lia settled on the couch next to me. She wore a smart black dress, her long auburn hair pulled up into a loose chignon. Lia pulled off understated elegance like she was born to it.
“The funeral starts in an hour.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Abbi said you called him.”
“Ugh. Fine. I did. He wants me to meet him on tour. New York is his first stop in the States, but he…he talked about Paris.” I swallowed, still gripping my phone hard. “The last time I talked to him, before today, he said he’d meet me at the airport, take me to Chinatown. We didn’t do that here.”
“That’s not why you look that pale. Spill, Bri.”
I stared down at the phone, my head buzzing with the words. “He said he loved me.” My voice was soft, as if the very air itself could destroy the memory of his words.
Lia leaned back, a smug smile on her face. “Did he now? To just you. Excellent.”
My eyes shot to hers. Her smile grew and her eyes glowed. She took the phone from me, and even though I grabbed for it out of reflex, I let her set it on the coffee table.
“He can’t mean it,” I said. “Maybe it’s just for press for his tour. Jackaroo, specifically Hayden Crewe, is the hottest thing in music because of our affair.”
Lia’s smile grew broader. “You lived a whirlwind romance. It is a little like a Cinderella story. Who doesn’t love that fairy tale?”
“Me. I like reality—the boringness of two people just rubbing along together, content.”
“Because your relationship with Ken worked out so well. That wasn’t love, Briar. The real deal is bigger than either of you. It’ll give you the highest high, better than you can ever imagine, because of the connection that’s so deep it’s impossible to unlink. You know that. That’s what Dad felt for Mom.”
“And look where that got him,” I huffed.
She tipped my chin so I had to meet her eyes. “It’s what I feel for Asher, and he returns those feelings. Love can work out. You’ve already let him back inside.” She placed her hand just over my heart.
“I want to see him, make sure he means it.”
“No, I know you, Briar. You want him to prove he won’t do anything stupid again. Something that will hurt you.”
I stood and began to pace, thinking about how I’d felt when I’d read Hayden’s note. When I’d been bombarded by the media with questions about our breakup.
“Of course I do. He broke me, Lia.”
“I asked Dad about his relationship with Mom once.”
I stopped midstride, just like she knew I would.
“Right before his last deployment.” Lia smoothed the hem of her dress across her knees. “He told me that he could never regret loving Mom. Not because he got us out of the deal.” A ghost of a smile slid over Lia’s mouth. “That’s what I expected, some platitude about us being awesome. Instead, he told me the eleven years with Mom were the ones where he lived out loud. As big as he could. And that was all we could ever wish for.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, confusion and frustration bubbling through my stomach.
Lia raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s time you figured that out.”
The funeral service ran long because more than fifty people stood up at the podium, reliving their favorite Rosie moments. As I listened to John Henderson speak, the night I’d met Rosie bubbled up in my mind.
I’d come as Ken’s date to the cancer charity function, a cause I planned to write about for next day’s paper. Since Ken was the leading oncologist on the team, his office helped set up the fundraiser for the new cancer facility the hospital wanted so desperately. We were in the Terrace Room at The Edgewater, the doors open to let in the light breeze blowing in off the sound. I’d been standing near our table, talking with a colleague from the much larger Seattle Times newspaper. He’d been there to cover the event, and I’m sure he knew who Rosie was when she walked over.
“Are you here with Dr. Kenneth Brenton?” Rosie had asked.
I’d affirmed, giving my colleague an apologetic what-can-I-do look. He’d shaken his head, chuckling as he wandered off.
“Is Kenneth someone special?” Rosie asked.
I clutched my glass of white wine in both hands. “I’m not sure yet. We’ve been out a few times.” I’d shrugged, noncommittal. I didn’t plan to share my relationship status with a nosy older lady I’d just met.
Rosie had studied my eyes, exposing my secrets. I’d forced my gaze to stay locked on hers and finally she smiled, transforming her face.
“You have spunk. There’s hope for you yet.”
“Excuse me?”
“What do you love best in the world, dear?”
I’d opened my mouth, snapped it shut.
“Ken told me you helped set up this event. He said you wanted more awareness for the need for early cancer detection.”
“That’s true. It’s important. I like the idea of giving back.” I’d sipped my drink, glancing around the room. “This may not be the most efficient way to do it, but events like this attract reporters. And that helps build awareness. Harder to do when we’re tackling all cancer instead of a specific kind.”
“I like you. My husband would have, too. He’s been gone these ten years. Lung cancer, bless his soul.”
Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I stared at the huge bouquet of calla lilies behind her casket. Hayden had sent those. A sweet gesture for a woman he’d met only once.
Rosie wouldn’t have any patience for my fear. She’d wanted everyone to live. Maybe that was the point Lia had tried to make earlier.
When my turn came to speak at the podium, I didn’t bother with the notecards I’d spent most of the night scribbling on.
“I only knew Rosie for about three years,” I started. “She was my surrogate mom, confidant, and good friend, all rolled into one . . . without the strain of actual family.” I waited for the titters to die down before I continued. “I learned a lot from Rosie. She taught me that sometimes being strong meant giving in.” I dipped my head toward Lia who did that raised-eyebrow thing. “She taught me to trust my instincts first, last, and always. And, most importantly, she taught me about love. That it doesn’t have to be blood. Love can bind you to someone special you meet toward the end of your life. Rosie was one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I’ll miss her cheating at canasta.”
I smiled as John Henderson laughed, wiping his eyes.
“But mainly I’m thankful we had the time we did together. Much as I wish it were longer, knowing Rosie brought contentment into both our lives. That’s something I’ve promised her I’ll continue. With her generous funds, I plan to start the Rose Douglas Foundation, which will help families dealing with cancer and terminal illness get the counseling and support they need.”
I paused, needing a moment to collect myself. Emotion filled Ken’s eyes. Yeah, even Ken mourned Rosie. She was just that charismatic. My eyes swept out into the sea of people there. I brought them back to my mom, her gaze intent on me, her mouth bracketed with wrinkles she’d developed in the last year or so, when she buried her second husband. She wiped her cheeks with a handkerchief my half brother Noah handed her.
“I can’t think of a better legacy for Rosie. And I’m so thankful to be part of her future. To continue to share the love she spread so abundantly through our community.”
I took my seat next to Lia. “Nice speech,” she said.
“Thank you for being here for me. I think I get what you meant. I mean, what Dad said to you.”
She wrapped her arm around me. “So are you going to go?”
I sucked in a breath. “Yes. But I’m really scared. What if . . . what if it’s like Ken?”
The people around us stood, filing out toward the cemetery. Mom and our half sister, Preslee, headed toward us.
/>
“You have to trust, Briar. Otherwise you’re going to be so lonely. Look at what Rosie accomplished by opening up to others. Look what Asher and I have because I took the leap.”
Mom stopped in front of me. “Lovely speech, Briar.”
“Thank you. Rosie deserved it.”
Mom smiled but her eyes were sad. I hugged Preslee, surprised—as I always was—that my half sister was a full-grown woman. She reached up, touching her close-cropped, dark hair. “She was lucky to have you in her life,” Preslee said, her voice as soft and lovely as the rest of her.
I shook my head. “I was the lucky one. You have the key to the condo?” I asked.
Preslee nodded, her pale green eyes sparkling. “Yes. I stopped by before coming here.” She grinned. “I took your advice and went to the fish market first. Princess wound through my legs as soon as she smelled what I’d brought her. I patted her head while she ate, but I didn’t want to press my luck.”
“Smart,” I said. “That cat has very distinct opinions.”
“We’ll let you go to the reception,” Mom said. “It should be nice.”
“You don’t want to come?” I asked.
Mom shook her head. “The boys went to bring the car around.” Mom looked around the large space, her eyes settling on the coffin. “I’m not much for funerals. Brings back memories I wish it didn’t.”
After a moment’s hesitation, I embraced my mother. “Thank you for your help.”
She patted my back, her eyes gleaming when she stepped back. “Not a thing, honey.”
Lia’s eyes tracked our mom and Preslee as they walked away. “I never know what to expect with Mom. I’m glad she helped put this together, though.”
“Going to bury the hatchet once and for all?” I asked.
Lia snorted. “Maybe. But that’s between Mom and me. I like Preslee, Nate, and Noah. The twins are really protective of both Mom and Preslee. It’s sweet.”
“Preslee was happy to help with Princess.”
Lia pulled out a large white envelope. “Here.”
“What this?”
“Backstage pass and Hayden’s hotel information.”
“What? How did you—”
“Asher’s been busy,” Lia said with a wink.
Tears filled my eyes and I threw my arms around Lia’s shoulders. “Thank you.”
Chapter 37
Hayden
A travel day was worse than a gig day because I didn’t have anything to focus on except my inconclusive conversation with Briar. I’d called about chartering a private flight to Seattle but I couldn’t make the twenty-plus hours of flight time work, not with a two o’clock rehearsal tomorrow I couldn’t miss.
Flip and Jake were right. I owed them my best for the remainder of this tour, especially since the song I’d played in Prague was such a viral hit, and our fans loved that we were adding more to it with each performance. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t frustrated by the situation.
Interesting how Flip, the most inscrutable of our group, turned out to be my rock. The best mate I’d always craved. And Flip, being that mate, wasn’t going to leave me alone to think about Briar as she struggled through Rosie’s funeral.
“Whatcha say? Let’s go see what Amsterdam has to offer,” Flip suggested as we gathered our bags from the carousel. Flip, Jake, and I opted to fly instead of spending the day on the tour bus. The decision made everyone happy, because Ets was entertaining twenty-two-year-old identical twins on the bus. From what little Jake said, the girls were screamers. I couldn’t imagine a worse way to spend the seven-plus hours between locations than listening to Ets getting it on.
Jake hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. He’d been even quieter than usual, but I was glad for his company.
“I want to see the Rijksmuseum,” he said.
“Really?” Flip asked. He put on his sunnies, heading through the speed customs we’d VIP through—one of the benefits of superstardom.
“Yeah, took ’em ten years to renovate it. I read it has heaps of the Masters.”
“I read about that,” I said. “Reckoned to be one of the best museums in Europe. I’m game.”
“Let’s get our gear checked in and we can head over,” Flip suggested.
He nodded toward our driver, who walked us to a large, sleek SUV. I liked riding in these way better than limos, which felt pretentious and wasteful. With no other choice, I relaxed, looking forward to the afternoon.
“I want to try out some of the beer here,” I said. “Isn’t this the birthplace or something?”
“Dunno,” Jake admitted. “The guys from uni were more interested in the legal pot and sex.”
“I bet.” Flip laughed. “I’m steering clear of both of those. Cynthia would have me by the balls. Can’t imagine your Yank would like those pics much, Hayden.”
I shook my head, a small smile forming. “I’ve no plans to find out about any of it.”
“You two are doddery. Soft,” Jake said.
“Hey, you could’ve stayed with your brother,” Flip responded. “I’m sure one of those girls would’ve been happy to entertain you, too.”
Jake shook his head. “It’s getting old. All the partying and easy sex. I’m ready to see some of the world. You know, get the most out of our time on this tour.” His gaze slid to mine. “Something tells me things are going to change when it’s over.”
I leaned back into the soft leather, refusing to rise to the bait. “So whose paintings are we going to look at?”
“Rembrandt, Vermeer. Some van Gogh. I want to stand in front of The Night Watch. One of my favorites we studied.”
“That’s right! Your degree’s in art something.” Flip pouted his lips together in a kissy duck face. “Wanker.”
“Don’t give him shit,” I said. “Mine’s in music composition. Worked out well for us. You’re just jealous you didn’t get the cert.”
Flip shrugged. “I’ve got the cash to see the real deal painting now. Maybe even buy it if I wanted. Seems like that’s a pretty big win.”
The rest of the day sped past, and I fell into bed. Exhaustion mixed with the five different beers I’d managed to try between dinner and now. I dialed Briar’s number again, the tenth time in the past few hours. She’d texted me about an hour after our talk, letting me know she’d have her phone off during Rosie’s funeral. I frowned when it once again went to voice mail. Surely, with the funeral starting at 10:00 a.m., it should be over by now.
I went to the gossip sites. Their information about Briar’s doings was better than mine. According to the web, the actual funeral was over, but the large group—nearly five hundred people attended Rosie’s funeral—had gathered at The Fairmont in downtown Seattle. An all-day affair, then.
I sent her a text.
Hope the day went smoothly. Thinking about you. x
I stared at the screen for many minutes before I plugged in the charger and set it on the nightstand. When I woke in the morning, I’d have a message from her. I hoped.
I woke up late the next morning and reached for my phone. A grin started to form when I saw I had a text from Briar, but the budding happiness faded quickly when I realized it wasn’t a message I wanted to see.
Today was hard. Turning off my phone. Just need some time. I’ll be in touch. Soon.
No. She was supposed to call me back. Something more than the bullshit lines I reread, trying to make sense of.
I checked my phone the rest of the morning as I went through my usual routine. Her response frustrated me enough to warrant a run down by the canals instead of staying inside. Signing the hundreds of autographs on the way back to my hotel made me late, and I raced through my shower. I arrived at the venue fifteen minutes late—a feat considering I’d barely returned to the hotel before I was supposed to leave. Good thing we were only a short walk—and an even shorter car ride—from the venue.
“Nice of you to join us, Hayden. Now we can finally get started.” Ets’s words pushed me further ov
er the edge.
“Sorry. Went for a run and got mobbed.”
“Sure it was rough having women rub against you. Did you file a suit for molestation? Is that what took so long? You’re not the only member of this band, dickhead.”
I didn’t bother with words. I lunged. Jake and Flip got between us quick enough. “Cool it,” Flip said. “We’ve only got a few hours before the gig, we’ve got to start sound check. Pull it together.”
I stomped over to my piano and went through our pre-performance checklist.
Four hours later, I slammed into the dressing room, angry with the compromise I’d made on “Between Breaths.” I flopped on the couch, arm over my eyes. I was supposed to use this time between practice and the actual show to eat, nap, or meditate, but I was too restless.
Briar hadn’t told me she loved since the night before I left her. She’d said she’d fallen in love with me. That could be past tense.
Maybe she couldn’t get beyond my bloody stupid behavior. She hadn’t agreed to meet me in Paris, London or New York. She hadn’t said anything about us, really.
Maybe it was time to let go of that dream.
Chapter 38
Briar
I stood out front of the Seven One Seven, impressed by the old-world charm.
The place was small, barely big enough for the band. My heart pounded as I approached the black door, pulling my suitcase behind me. Inside, I slid my sunglasses up onto the top of my head and walked to the front desk. Time to test my plan.
“Hi,” I said when I reached the concierge.
“Good afternoon,” the sleek brunette said, her smile professionally inquisitive, but recognition widened her eyes. Being chased by cameras finally had an upside. Her brass name tag read Lotte.
“I’m here to check in,” I said with a bored look. At least I hoped it was. My heart raced faster than it did when I ran sprints.
Between Breaths (The Seattle Sound Series Book 2) Page 24
