by Kristi Gold
Cammie realized Pat did know Brett and what made him tick. She also recognized she couldn’t save him from himself, and being his verbal punching bag wasn’t anything to celebrate. “Maybe it would be best if I leave now. Every time he looks at me, he’s going to be reminded you’re not there.”
Pat took her hand into his. “You leaving now would only make it worse. I know it’s a hell of a lot to ask of you, but hang in there. You could be the one person to bring him out of his pity party.”
That was definitely a tall order, and improbable. “I’ll try, but only because you asked.”
“You’ll try because you care about him.” He inclined his head, narrowed his eyes and looked at her straight on. “Maybe you even love him a little bit?”
She marveled at Pat’s wisdom, and cursed her own transparency.
“Believe me, he’s easy to love, and hard to hold on to. But he’s worth it, Cammie. Just don’t give up on him.”
* * *
AS IF PAT’S DEPARTURE wasn’t bad enough, more sorry news waited for Brett in his stateroom. The tan oversize envelope sat centered in the middle of the mattress, a note from Rusty paper-clipped to the front.
Tim sent this by courier to the hotel. He said it looked important.
Important, yeah, and from the looks of the attorney’s return address in Texas, he’d bet his last buck he knew what it was about.
He toed out of his boots, stretched out on the bed and turned the packet over twice. He’d like to ignore it, just like he’d like to ignore his mentor leaving him high and dry. But delaying the inevitable could cost him in the long run.
After tearing open the envelope, he withdrew a petition to have his parental rights terminated, clearing the way for Jana’s husband to adopt Lacey. From what he could tell, he had until September to fight it, but he had another fight he had to take on first.
He tossed the papers aside, fished his cell from his jeans pocket and hit the speed dial to contact the party responsible for this surprise attack. When she answered, he dispensed with formality. “Thanks for blindsiding me, Jana.”
“Don’t act so shocked, Brett. This has been a long time coming, and you have no one to blame but yourself.”
He tightened his grip on the phone hard enough to break the damn thing. “What about your blame in all of this?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Hell, yes, you do. You’re the one who kept Lacey from me for all these years. First, you stripped me of my rights to see her except for one freakin’ weekend a month. When I did have a break, she was always busy with something. Camp or a sleepover or a cold.”
“Excuse me, but you can’t blame me for your schedule. And you’re the one who stopped calling her.”
His mind traveled back to that day six years ago, and he got mad all over again. “Did you forget what she said to me that last time I talked to her? Just in case, I’ll repeat it. It had something to do with you telling her I drank too much and chased whores. Whores, Jana. That’s a pretty adult word to be coming out of a six-year-old mouth.”
She sighed. “We’ve been through this, Brett. She overheard a conversation I had with Randy.”
“I don’t give a damn where she heard it. The point is, she did hear it, you never took it back and she’ll probably never forget it.”
“Guess the truth hurts, doesn’t it?”
He gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might shatter. “I didn’t start drinking until you took Lacey and left. And I sure as hell never cheated on you.”
“Yes, you did,” she said. “You had an affair with your career. Fame and fortune was the only thing that ever mattered to you.”
She was dead wrong. Every drop of blood, sweat and tears had been for his family, especially his child. “You sure as hell didn’t have a problem taking my money in the divorce settlement. And you never even gave me a chance to prove I could handle the singing and the family life. You just took off with our kid without even saying goodbye.”
“I left a note.”
He’d burned that note and downed half a bottle of whiskey that night. “Oh, yeah. After seven years together, you might’ve had the decency to say goodbye to my face.”
“I knew you would talk me out of it, or at least try. In spite of all your faults, you’ve got charming people to get your way down to a science. Heaven help any woman who gets involved with you. You’ll only bring her a whole lot of heartache.”
He grabbed the papers and clenched them in his fist. “Admit it, Jana Beth. You’re still pissed off at me and you’ve been using our kid as a pawn to make me pay. Well, I’m done paying.”
“Sign the papers, Brett.”
“Go to hell, Jana.”
After he hung up, he hurled the wadded documents against a wall and followed suit with his cell phone, breaking it into several pieces that scattered across the area.
“Pat didn’t mention you were inclined to throw things.”
He spun around to see Cammie standing at the now-open door. “Don’t listen to everything Pat tells you. He’s full of crap.”
She folded her arms across her middle and leaned a shoulder against the frame. “Seems to me he’s pretty much got you pegged.”
Ignoring the comment, he stretched out on the bed on his back and studied the ceiling to avoid her condemnation. “What do you want, Camille?”
“If you’re done with the tantrum, I just wanted to let you know that I’m about to head out. The guys want to know if you have a dinner preference.”
Yeah. The other half of that old bottle of whiskey. “I don’t give a damn about eating right now.”
“That’s right. You only give a damn about feeling sorry for yourself. Pat left, your dad left and my parents died. It sucks and it hurts.”
“Pat’s leaving wasn’t a surprise.” But it had stung like a hornet. “Everyone eventually leaves. Life’s a bitch.”
“And we only have one of them. So you can waste precious hours wallowing, or you can appreciate what you have and get on with the business of living.”
When he ventured a glance he found her standing at the end of the bed, glaring at him. He considered telling her about the termination papers, but he didn’t have the energy to get into that. “If you’re done with the lecture, I’d like some privacy.”
She held her ground. “You can have all the privacy you want, as soon as I say what I need to say to you. You can throw whatever you like and you can even throw me out. You can pretend nothing ever happened between us, and that’s fine. But you’re not going to be able to get rid of me because I promised Pat I’d fill in for him until the tour’s over. So get used to it.”
When she turned and left, slamming the door behind her, Brett considered going after her. He owed her an apology. He owed her a lot more than that. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him. How much he’d come to care about her. How close he was to landing right in the middle of loving her. Then Jana’s words came back to him.
Heaven help any woman who gets involved with you. You’ll only bring her a whole lot of heartache....
A quick, clean break would be best. Cammie deserved a better man. The man he might never be.
* * *
THE STADIUM WAS EXPECTED to be bursting at the seams with fans later that evening, yet the outdoor concert appeared as if it might not happen when the threat of a severe storm hung over the stage. But as if the country-music gods had willed it, the threatening clo
uds peeled back and exposed the radiant California sun before the end of the rehearsal.
Yet the storm between Brett and Cammie still prevailed. Now her nerves were frayed and close to being completely shot. She and Brett had barely spoken to each other since their last tense conversation right before they left Las Vegas, or the two days since they’d arrived in Los Angeles. He’d acted as if nothing had happened between them that night in the desert house. She couldn’t help but feel cheated and used and discarded like yesterday’s newspaper.
Fortunately, Bonnie and Karen had flown in for a minivacation, serving as her companions during their free time. They’d gone shopping, swimming and sightseeing, and not once had Brett’s name come up in the context of their relationship. If the women had been made privy to any information, they hadn’t let on. When it came to the music part, the guys hovered around her as if they’d become self-appointed bodyguards to protect her from her boss’s foul mood. Regardless of their motives, they’d kept her mind off the fact Brett was bent on behaving like she didn’t exist, as he had the entire rehearsal.
The heat was about to do Cammie in as they rehearsed the final song for at least the tenth time. Brett was his usual obsessive self, maybe even more so.
After he said, “Again,” Rusty formed an obscene gesture behind Brett’s back.
Feeling totally drained, Cammie plopped down on a stool and swiped the beads of perspiration from her forehead. If King Brett was trying to drive home a point by working her to death until she lost five pounds due to dehydration, he was succeeding.
“Get up, Camille. We’re not done yet.” Brett seemed bent on calling her by her full name now, as if to put more distance between them.
At the moment she’d like to sock him in the nose, or other sensitive regions. Unfortunately, she wasn’t a violent person. Then a sudden devious thought crept into her mind. If he was hell-bent on playing the mean man, she had no choice but to be a mean girl. No bodily harm involved, of course. Just a little refreshing wake-up call to calm him down.
She slowly slipped off her perch and walked to the small thermos where Brett happened to be standing. “May I?” she asked sweetly.
He stared at her for a moment, not so much in suspicion but with annoyance. “Help yourself.” He turned away, then added, “Just hurry up.”
“No problem. This won’t take long at all.” She took two large squeeze bottles and filled them full of the icy water. Leaving the tops off the bottles, she started toward Brett, who now had his back to her. She winked at Jeremy, then looked at Bonnie and Karen seated on the ground below and smiled.
Bonnie began to laugh when realization dawned and Karen yelled, “Go, girl!”
Cammie took both bottles and dumped them on the unsuspecting star’s head. When he spun around, water dripping from his hair onto his T-shirt, she smiled and handed him the bottles. “Now that you’re cooled off, I’m ready to continue.”
From the furious look on Brett’s face, she figured she’d probably gone too far and could be instantly fired. Well, that was just too bad.
Brett hurled the containers to one side and sent her a fierce look. Even so, the way he slicked back his hair made Cammie’s heart execute a little hip-hop.
“Rehearsal’s over,” he said irritably. “Everyone be here by six.” Then he disappeared down the steps and into the tunnels below the stadium.
The band remained fixed in their positions and Cammie worried they resented the antics responsible for Brett’s spontaneous departure. Then the laughter spread, first with Rusty, then Jeremy and lastly Bull, who Cammie suspected had been laughing all along. Before she knew it the entire road crew had joined in.
Cammie hugged her arms to her middle and tried to look contrite, even if she wasn’t. “Sorry, guys.”
“Guess you showed him, Cammie,” Rusty said.
Bull laughed again. “Damn, I wish I had a camera to record the look on his freakin’ face. Looked like someone slapped him up the side of his head with a cow patty.”
“A really cold cow patty,” Cammie said, bringing about another round of laughter that continued as they filed off the staged and headed into the tunnel leading to the lot.
Halfway to their destination, a lanky guy with longish light brown hair stopped to speak with the guys as the girls hung back and waited. Cammie thought he looked familiar, but she couldn’t put a name to the face. “Who is he?” she asked Karen.
“His name is Cruz something,” she said. “He’s with the opening group that’s called...I can’t remember.”
Cammie did. “DHD. I saw it on the schedule.”
“Stands for Down Home Devils,” Bonnie added. “Devil or not, I could get down with him.”
Karen grinned. “Give me half an hour and a hotel room and I could tear that up.”
Bonnie laid a hand above her breasts. “You’re married, Karen. But I’m not. And if Doug doesn’t put a ring on my finger soon, I might try to get me some of that.”
“He’s not interested in us,” Karen said. “He keeps eyeing Cammie. You should introduce yourself.”
Cammie did notice his covert glances. Yes, he was cute—in a scruffy sort of way. But he wasn’t nearly as tall as Brett, six feet at best. And although he had piercing brown eyes, they weren’t as magnetic as Brett’s. He wasn’t Brett, period. “Sorry, but I’m not interested.” She’d had her fill of singers. Enough to last a lifetime.
After the group of guys said their goodbyes and disbanded, Cruz moved past her and directed a wink at her. “Check you ladies later.”
Karen hooked an arm through Cammie’s. “He means he’ll check you out later. And you should check him out, too.”
Cammie had no intention of going there. She only wanted to go back to the hotel, shower and take a long nap. She also planned to have a serious conversation with Brett after the evening performance. She understood he was still hurting over Pat’s departure, but that didn’t give him the right to be so irritable. She could no longer tolerate his avoidance or his bad temper. If he refused to man up, look her in the eye and tell her she’d only been a diversion, she seriously questioned whether she could stay on for the remainder of the tour.
* * *
IF BRETT WAS IN THE THROES of emotional turmoil, it wasn’t obvious when he took the stage. At least not to his audience or to Cammie. He was as dynamic as she’d ever seen him. He was also full of surprises. During their special song, he moved over to sing in her microphone, as if he wanted to reenact their performances in Vegas.
Of course it was an act, and she didn’t intend to play along. But by the second time around with the chorus, the undeniable chemistry became apparent...until she snapped out of it and shifted away from him. When he appeared altogether confused, she shrugged and went right on singing without giving him a second glance. Yet she was still very aware of his presence and her continuing desire to be near him. She had to be strong. Had to be.
After the show ended, Cammie came to a decision. Life was too short to hang on to the hope that they would ever reestablish a relationship. For that reason, she intended to enjoy herself tonight—exactly what was on her mind when she exited the stage. She planned to freshen up at the hotel, slip on the new knock-’em-dead blue dress Karen and Bonnie had convinced her to buy and then pay a visit to the hotel lounge. The place came highly recommended by Jeremy, who had spent the past two nights holding up the bar.
She’d made it through half the tunnel maze when she came upon
the mysterious Cruz, one shoulder leaning against the cement wall, hands in the pockets of his well-worn jeans.
“Hey,” he said as she came within a few feet from him.
She almost didn’t stop but decided to be polite, then be on her way. “Hey. Good show tonight.”
“You, too.” He pushed off the wall and offered his hand. “By the way, I’m Jamie Cruz. People call me Cruz.”
At least he had nice manners, and a snake tattoo crawling up his forearm, reminding her of Mark. Not a good thing. “Nice to officially meet you, Cruz. I’m Camille, but most people call me Cammie.”
“I know,” he said. “I asked Rusty about you before the show.”
Karen and Bonnie had been right about his interest in her. “Don’t believe everything you hear.” Namely that she was single and on the prowl.
“Same goes for me,” he said. “I was wondering if you might want to have a drink with me in the hotel bar since we’re staying at the same place.”
That’s where she’d planned to go, but somehow that didn’t seem too wise, especially with Cruz tagging along. “Any other time I might say yes, but in case you haven’t heard, I drive Brett’s bus as well as sing backup. We have to head out early so I should probably call it a night.”
He smiled, yet it didn’t pack the same punch as Brett’s did. “Just one drink. I don’t know about you, but after a show, it takes me a while to wind down. I also know sometimes it’s nice to find a friend in all this craziness.”
She did agree with him on that point. “True, but I’m fairly tired. Maybe some other time.”
“Are you sure? I’m buying.”
She noticed Brett rounding the corner, and when he caught sight of her, she swore he picked up the pace. She hoped he’d keep on walking, but no such luck. He strode right up to them and came to a stop at Cammie’s side. “The car’s on its way,” he told her without taking his eyes off her companion.
