Defining Destiny

by Deanna Chase

  “Now, honey. I know he made a mistake. But he’s sorry. It’s hard finding your partner when you’re just nineteen. You both have some growing to do. If you do it together, it will mean more later.”

  “A mistake? That’s what you’re calling it?” She has lost her mind. I can’t believe I’m hearing this from her. And yet, at the same time, it shouldn’t surprise me. She has always defended her life choices with the idea that no one should live without their soul mate. “Has Randy made a mistake? Did you forgive him?”

  Mom doesn’t say anything for a minute, and I wonder if I’ve hit a nerve.

  “I’ll call you later after you’ve had a chance to think about the things you’ve said to me. And if you have any sense, you’ll call Cadan. You’re not only throwing away the one person who’ll love you forever, but there’s also a lot of money on the line. You’re going to mess up your life if you walk away from him and your record deal.”

  I clutch the phone until it creaks under my grip. “The one person who’ll love me forever? Where does that leave you, Mom?” Before she has a chance to answer, I gently place the phone back on the receiver. Totally numb, I climb the stairs and head for the shower.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I step under the stream of water. As the spray sluices over me, flashbacks of the night before start to fill my mind. Jeez! What had I done? Had hot sex with an incredibly sexy, gorgeous guy I didn’t even know. That’s what I’d done. And it had been glorious and exactly what I’d needed to get Cadan out of my mind. Then I’d run out without so much as a good-bye. I figured he’d prefer it that way. But that was before I realized he was watching me from the second-story window.

  I’d woken up with the sunrise, an annoying habit I’d developed ever since I’d gotten back home. It’s because I like to sleep with the window cracked so I can hear the ocean. If I keep the blinds down, the wind makes them slam against the casings, keeping me awake. Since the house is on the side of a hill facing the ocean, there isn’t a pressing need for privacy, but the sun does make it difficult to sleep in.

  Once I find my phone and turn it on, I see eight texts from Jax and a dozen from Cadan. The last two were a confirmation from them both that Cadan left town. He’s pissed. But who cares? I don’t want to see him, and I’m not the cheater.

  Though spending the night with Seth does make me feel slightly guilty. I hadn’t really believed I’d ever be with anyone else. Not even after I’d caught Cadan with the two skanks who’d already worked their way through the rest of the band members.

  Angry all over again, I turn the water to scalding. Just thinking about Cadan with them makes my stomach turn. Thirty minutes later, my skin red and tender, I pad into my room and pull on yoga pants, an oversized sweater, and slippers. It’s my intention to stay in all day by the fire.

  Back downstairs, I rustle around in the kitchen, putting together an omelet. Eggs, tomatoes, goat cheese, and avocado. Perfect. I’m about to crack one of the eggs when the house phone starts ringing again. I let out a long-suffering sigh. Only two people call me on that phone these days, and I want nothing to do with either of them right now.

  When the machine beeps, Mom says, “You should probably think about changing the message on the machine, Luce. It’s not healthy.”

  My fist clenches around the egg and… crack. The gooey mess drips down my hand.

  “But that’s not why I called,” Mom continues. “Pick up the phone.”

  I glare at it.

  “Lucy, you’re being a child. I said pick up the phone.”

  Not even if Ed McMahon himself were on the other end.

  “Fine. Don’t talk to me.” She’s angry now, but when she speaks again, her voice cracks. “What if something happens to me, too? You’re going to be all alone. Then what will you do?” The machine beeps, indicating she’s hung up.

  “Goddammit!” I cry, slamming my hand down on the counter. I accidently hit the bowl and it crashes to the floor, shattering ceramic shards over the tile. The destruction is oddly satisfying. Mom is the queen of guilt and has a way of making everything about her. This latest round about Dad’s message is because the sound of his voice makes her uncomfortable. She tells me how weird it is every time she gets a chance. I think it’s because she still has guilt for leaving him. Not because he’s gone.

  I creep through the kitchen to the hall closet and pull out a broom. But all I want to do is keep smashing things. I suck in a deep breath. Letting her get to me isn’t helping. The walls go up around my emotions as I methodically clean the kitchen floor. When I’m done, I take a seat at the kitchen bar. The layout is such that I’m facing a wall of windows, and the view is stunning. Dad’s house is at the top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. Fixated on the rhythmic pounding of waves, I press the Play button on the answering machine.

  “Lucy,” Mom says.

  I hit the Delete button, cutting her off. The machine beeps.

  “Lucile—”

  Delete.

  The next four messages are Mom. As with the first two, I delete before I hear what she has to say. Mom has a habit of calling over and over until I pick up. Considering I was gone for sixteen hours, it’s amazing there are only six.

  The seventh, however, is Cadan. I haven’t spoken to him since the day I walked out on him three months and eighteen days ago. He’s certainly tried to get in touch with me, but I changed my number after dodging his calls for two weeks straight.

  “Hey, Luce,” his tone is quiet, gentle. “It feels like forever since I’ve heard your voice.”

  My finger is hovering over the Delete button, but I can’t do it. After all these months, I suddenly have to know what he has to say. How could he possibly justify what he did?

  “Damn.” He sighs. “I miss you.”

  Tears fill my eyes. It’s the first time I’ve cried over him since I found out about his cheating. I wipe angrily at my eyes and sniff.

  “I fucked up. I know that. You have no idea how much I regret my bad choices. Nothing is the same without you.”

  Of course it isn’t. When we sing together, our voices have an effect on people. We touch them deeply, make them feel things in ways they never have before. It’s like magic. Apart, we’re just two people who can carry a note or two. Our fans have to be disappointed. And even though my heart wants to believe what he says, my head says it’s more likely he’s only calling because it’s affecting both of our careers.

  “I know you’re not going to like it, but I talked to your mom. Please, Luce, don’t be upset about that. I had to get your new number. I have to talk to you.”

  There’s a pause and then he adds, “I’m in California. I took a break from the tour. I can’t keep singing without you.” There’s a click and one final beep.

  The tears are flowing freely now, but I do nothing to stop them. The anger I’d been surviving on is gone. Only sadness remains. Pain for what was and won’t be again. Cadan had been my best friend, my lover, my partner. Now he’s just a cheater and a thief. It’s not something I’m going to get over. I’ll never trust him again. He trampled all over everything that was important to me.

  My cell phone, sitting on the bar, buzzes. I’m almost afraid to look. A message from Cadan will be too much. Another message comes through and I can’t help but look.

  Jax.

  I snatch the phone, desperate to focus on something else.

  The string of messages starts with dude.

  I’m dying.

  Help.

  Worst. Hangover. Ever.

  I chuckle and thank God I stopped drinking before I got drunk enough to suffer her fate. My cheeks heat as I recall what I did instead. I’m both embarrassed and impressed with myself. Jax has been saying I need to get out more. Though I doubt she meant get naked with the first hot guy who showed interest. Crap. She’s going to kill me when she finds out. She’s told me three times not to get involved with Seth. She’s worried about being caught in the middle. But she has nothing to worry about. I already
know he’s a one-nighter. And I’d made it easy on him.

  Bring chai and sweet-potato fries.

  Jax’s preferred hangover remedy. I text back, Be there in forty-five minutes.

  Thirty.

  Oh boy. She’s in bad shape. I run up the stairs, stuff my feet in my running shoes, and fly out the door.

  Chapter 10

  Seth

  I can’t stop thinking about Miss Francie. The character and the history in her face calls to me, makes my fingers itch to sketch her. And what must Don look like these days? No doubt he’s equally as fascinating. I bend over the piece of flash I’m working on and shade in the eyes of a silver wolf.

  “Yo, Keenan, what happened after you and Lucy left last night?” Mike calls from the station two booths over. His tattoo gun buzzes under his administration.

  I glance up, catching the eye of Sadie Sanders, the girl he’s working on. She’s a regular. Her arm is half-covered in sunflowers. Mike’s been building a garden sleeve on her right arm one bloom at a time.

  Her lips turn up in a slow, seductive smile. “Hey, Seth. How about that drink tonight?”

  Biting back a grimace, I shake my head, trying for apologetic. “Sorry, Sadie. I’ve already got plans.”

  The light in her eyes dims a little. She’s asked me out four times now. I’ve declined each invitation. “Maybe next time.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I lie. Was it so hard for her to take a hint? I don’t date locals. Especially ones who were friends with E.

  “Well?” Mike presses. “I saw the light on at your house.”

  He says the last part as a statement, but it’s really a question. The house I’d claimed to be my sister’s is mine. She stays there when she’s in town, but that’s rare these days. Most of her time is spent in San Francisco now that she’s met her soul mate. She comes home to work on the books for the family business a couple of times a month, but that’s it.

  “I didn’t think she’d appreciate being subjected to Grace and Leo. Besides, Marty was supposed to pick her up.”

  Mike raises one eyebrow at the mention of my parents. He knows I usually stay in the garage apartment. They never would’ve known. “Did he?”

  “Yeah.” I glance away and mumble, “Eventually.” I don’t need the whole world to know she spent the night. And she doesn’t either.

  “Oh, did you hear her sing last night?” Sadie gushes. “And then Cadan was there. Omigod, he’s hot. I’m so disappointed they didn’t sing together. I wonder what happened between them.”

  Everyone—Mike, Sadie, and John, another artist—turns to stare at me as if I’m supposed to supply the answer. I raise my hands and shrug. “Don’t look at me. How am I supposed to know?”

  Mike gives me a flat stare. “Maybe because I heard through the grapevine that Marty didn’t pick her up until this morning.”

  “Nice.” John gives me a nod of approval. “How was she? If her performance was any indication, I’m fucking jealous, dude. What she could do with that mic…”

  “Jesus. Shut the fuck up already.” I get up. “I’m going next door. I’ll be back after you two find someone else to harass.”

  They both crack up as they high-five each other. Sadie frowns in my direction, clearly unhappy to be witness to this conversation. I pull on my old, weathered leather jacket and get the hell out of there before they start needling me for details.

  Two doors down is a local coffee shop. It’s Saturday, so the place is bustling with locals and a few brave tourists up from the Bay Area doing some Christmas shopping in our small artists’ town.

  I get in line behind an older lesbian couple having a heated debate about what to get Patsy. The taller one insists on a weekend getaway for two at a spa in Calistoga. But her partner shakes her head. “No. I’m telling you, the last time Joan soaked in a mud bath, she came away with a nasty infection on her inner thigh. It took weeks for that thing to heal. She was a total bitch the entire time. Turns out Patsy wouldn’t sleep with her until it healed. For the love of God, I have to share an office with Joan. For my sanity, do not send her back to a spa.”

  “Dammit. Now what?” the taller one asks. “I’m totally out of ideas for her.”

  “Excuse me.”

  I freeze and then blood rushes through my veins as my pulse quickens. Lucy. She’s two people ahead of them in line, but lets the person behind her order first.

  “Have you considered the Times Two music retreat in Calistoga instead? One of the private wineries is hosting the event once a month, and I heard they’re booking some really great bands. They have packages from a basic stay to a four-star experience.”

  The women in front of me start asking questions and scribbling down the information. I’m transfixed, watching her as she smiles easily at them, enjoying the conversation. She looks nothing like the sex kitten she’d been the night before. Now she’s wearing black pants and an oversized sweater that hides her curves. Her hair is pulled back with a thin headband, and her face is fresh, rosy from the winter chill. She’s fucking beautiful. And I can’t stop staring.

  It’s her turn to order, and she still hasn’t noticed me. She’s sweet and considerate to the barista behind the counter, even when he forgets to give her back her change.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she says when he rectifies his mistake. Stuffing two dollar bills in the tip jar, she smiles. “I’ve been there. Thanks for the help.”

  The clerk gives her a look of gratitude, then his gaze turns to one of admiration as he watches her walk to the other end of the counter to wait for her order. An unexpected jolt of irritation hits me. I narrow my eyes, taking in his lip ring and the amateur tattoos covering his left hand. He’s got the same build as her rocker soul mate. I have no trouble seeing him onstage with her, pretending he has some sort of talent with an electric guitar.

  “She’s adorable, isn’t she?” one of the ladies in front of me says to the guy.

  “Gorgeous is more like it. What can I get for you lovely ladies this fine December afternoon?” He winks, charming them with his over-the-top delivery.

  I roll my eyes and fix my attention on Lucy once again.

  She’s staring right at me, her face now turning from a rosy blush to scarlet. I can’t help the cocky grin I know is spreading over my face. I like that I do this to her.

  “Hey, long time, no see,” I call.

  She averts her eyes for a moment and then raises her hand in greeting.

  Oh, hell yeah. I’m going to enjoy this.

  I order a plain black coffee in lieu of my regular double-shot latte just so I’m not stuck waiting for it. With cup in hand, I make my way to the bar filled with creamer carafes and proceed to doctor my drink. I strategically take my time and hurriedly put the lid back on when a different barista passes her a cup carrier with four drinks.

  “Need a hand?” I ask when she fills the space beside me.

  She glances up, surprise in her pretty blue eyes. “Sure. Half-and-half in these two.” Waving at the two cups closest to me, she grabs a couple of packets of raw sugar with her other hand.

  Neither of us says anything as we stir the drinks. When the lids are replaced, I fall into step beside her and hold the door open.

  “Thanks,” she says almost shyly.

  “No problem.” We stand outside the shop and stare at each other as the wind picks up.

  After a moment, she visibly shivers. Of course she does; she’s only wearing a sweater. No coat. “I better go. Jax is waiting.”

  “Hangover?” I ask.

  “The worst.”

  “Right. Sweet-potato fries?” I’ve taken care of Jax at least a half dozen times since the big breakup. It’s always the same. Chai and sweet-potato fries.

  “I’m headed to get them now,” she says.

  I shake my head. “Baxter’s is closed this weekend. There was some sort of emergency with Jilly’s dad. The whole family went.”

  “Oh no.” She bites her lip and noticeably steels hersel
f.

  I can’t help but wonder what that’s all about. Was she good friends with the Baxters? Seems unlikely, otherwise she would’ve already known. Everyone else did. Including Jax, who probably forgot in her misery.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got a backup plan.”

  Her teeth are chattering now. I can’t stand to see her so cold, so I drape an arm around her shoulder and pull her in close, sharing whatever warmth I can. She’s stiff and hesitant at first, but then relents and leans in, her body fitting perfectly against mine. I rub her arm and guide her toward my truck.

  She glances over her shoulder. “I’m parked over there.”

  “I’ll drive. Is there anything you need from your car?”

  Her steps slow as she worries her bottom lip, but then she shakes her head. “No. I’m good.”

  “Okay then.” A ball of tension in my gut dissipates. Jesus. What is it with this girl? The way she makes me feel by doing absolutely nothing is almost terrifying. Terrifying and miraculous at the same time. Holding the door open for her, I wait for her to climb in before making my way to the driver’s side. By the time I’m buckled in, she’s already got the fleece throw I keep in the truck tucked over her legs.

  “I hope to God this blanket isn’t left over from your last one-night stand. But even if it is, I can’t make myself part with it. I’m frozen.”

  My mouth falls open at her casual use of last one-night stand. Damn, is that how she sees me? I guess it would be. I laugh to cover the stab of regret. “Don’t worry. It’s been cleaned since then.” Shit! Why did I say that?

  She plucks at the fabric gingerly and then closes her eyes. “Thank goodness for small favors.”

  “I’m joking,” I say. “The blanket is new. The heater broke a few weeks ago. The blanket was for Jax before I got it fixed.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes pop open. Is that relief I see on her face? Relief for what? That she’s not wrapped up in a skanky blanket, or that I hadn’t confessed to participating in nefarious sexual behavior? “That was nice of you.”

  “It’s just a blanket.”