My fingers rub my temple like they can calm the storm in my mind. “I never thought of it like that. I mean, where would I be if it wasn’t for him?”
“Trust me on this. He wouldn’t be where he is if it wasn’t for you.”
I shake my head in hopes his words will settle my thoughts. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For trying to help me.” I hug my arms to my chest. “You don’t even know me.”
“No. I don’t. But I do know when someone is being taken advantage of. I don’t like it. And,” he nods his head towards me, “I don’t like being used.”
I swallow the hard lump in my throat. “Used?”
“Yes, used. You used Skeet’s offer to get your manager all riled up. I’m not sure why. Maybe you feel like you need to have something over him. I don’t know. But the offer has been rescinded. I’ll handle Skeet. Have a good life, Ms. Sinclair.”
Flashes of something good being swept away roll through my mind along with the urge to retrieve it. “Levi, wait. You don’t understand.”
He’s got one leg in the car, his hands holding onto the top of the door.
“What’s there to understand?” he challenges.
I can’t speak. My hesitation costs me my chance to explain. Levi slides the rest of the way into the car and shuts the door. I hear the doors lock. The sound is so final.
I’m in way over my head, and I know it.
Why was Levi in my life for such a short time?
I turn back toward the cabin. Coleman is staring at me like I’ve lost it.
And why has Coleman been in my life for so long?
Coleman has unfolded and flattened out the contract I have with Feline Records, and it lays open on the kitchen table. He’s pointing here and there to print that is so fine it brings new meaning to the term fine print. His apparent goal is to show me how I can’t get out of the contract. How I have to make one more CD for this record company.
But I’m not listening to all he has to say. My mind keeps wandering. To Skeet, Levi.
“Princess? Earth to Princess.”
I look at Coleman. “Yes?”
“What did I just say?”
“I don’t know. You talk in all that legal jargon even though you know I can’t understand it.”
“I asked you for a glass.”
“Oh.” Now it’s obvious to Coleman I haven’t been paying attention.
“What is it, Princess? Why can’t you grasp the importance of making this last CD? These papers are signed by you and Feline Records. They are binding in a court of law. Even though you are quickly becoming very familiar with being in court, I suggest you don’t end up there for breach of contract. You are already in an unstable position, so why push it? Why try to make these people mad? I’ve brought some music tracks from the band. Breathe heavy into the microphone, put a few words together like baby, body, wanting, needing, loving, and you have a song. Twist them around, place the emphasis on a different word, and you have a different song. Shouldn’t take you too long.”
You know, I can’t really be mad at the man because he speaks the truth. What frustrates me is that no matter what I say, he won’t listen. I can’t make him see I feel differently inside. That, too, is frustrating in itself. Why me? Why do I all of a sudden have issues with moving around onstage in provocative ways? Moving around stages in provocative ways has been very good to me. The thought also upsets something inside.
What is happening?
“The thing is,” Coleman says, “You don’t have a choice in this matter. I’m telling you straight up. You have to produce a CD.” He points to the CD lying on the table. “There you go. Ready-made music. When you come back to California next month, we’re gonna rock. Then you’re through with Feline. Through with your career also if you dump them, but that’s a scenario for another day. Another day when I have a pile of antacids to take. For all the money you bring in, Princess, I’m beginning to wonder if you’re worth it.”
His words would sting my heart if I hadn’t already heard them over a hundred times. He’s always telling me how much trouble I am, yet he won’t leave. No way. He likes to act like he has some integrity, like he would actually turn away from the pile of money I bring to him. But I know him. It’s not happening.
All I want is a quiet life. Nothing more. Is it too late? “If I give them their CD, I’m not touring.”
“You need to rethink your thought process. You’ve been invited to triple headline with Tony Longstreet and Randy Timms. Two of the hottest guys in the industry right now.”
I shake my head. “I’m sure I wasn’t invited. You probably pushed me on them.”
“They’re planning their tour now. They need to know soon. Scheduled for next summer, and it promises to bring in the numbers. And don’t forget about Meghan Cascade. She’s ringing my phone two or three times a day.”
I’m not even in California, yet I’m right back in the midst of all this stuff. I do have to admit things are a little different. At least Coleman is asking. Before he was just booking and telling.
I push myself away from the kitchen table and pour myself another cup of coffee. My therapist says I’m strong, but right now I’m tired of fighting this man. Tired of feeling different. Tired of knowing what I don’t want but still unclear as to what I do want concerning my career.
Better to throw myself into something than not do anything. “Look, I’ll do one more CD for Feline. I guess I don’t have a choice. And it’s going to be my CD. Emphasis on my, get it?”
“They’re always your CDs, Princess.”
I set the coffee cup down then pick up the CD. “No, they’re not.” I step to the trash can where I toss the CD into the white-bagged abyss.
“Hey,” Coleman says, looking agitated. “The band worked hours on those tunes. Hours. They deserve a little respect here. I won’t tell them what you did, but you better come up with something just as good. That music rocked. They used the latest instruments and technology. Dance club tunes never sounded so good. I’m telling you, you barely had to do any work. Just string a few words together and let the beat do the rest.”
I’m totally sober now, and I can’t keep up with Coleman’s ramblings. I guess I honestly just used to tune him out. Of course I was probably tuning everything out. He loses me somewhere in the middle of his renditions of what I should do, why and how. Did he used to tell me what I should be feeling, also? Does anyone else have this type of crazy influence in my life?
I wish I had a camera as Coleman slides his executive suited arm into the trash can. It only takes a couple of seconds to retrieve the CD. Then he holds onto it by the tip of the corner, like it’s contaminated or something.
It’s hard work being sober. Tough on the brain. It actually gets used instead of abused. It thinks instead of shrinks. It reasons instead of, well, can’t think of anything that makes sense and still rhymes with reason, but you get the drift, here, right? I’m actually going through a process of making decisions, rationalizing and trying to match all these head decisions with my heart.
No wonder I stayed out of it all the time.
Chapter Three
What does a girl do when she’s feeling down?
This girl shops.
And I need to do something to keep my mind off of Levi Preston. That he’s invading my thoughts at all surprises me. I barely know him, and he wants nothing to do with me, yet I can’t get him out of my mind.
But I’m going to try.
Downtown Lawson’s Ledge isn’t too busy today, and I’m able to pull my car into one of the angled spots that line the main street. I check my appearance in the rear view mirror. My baseball cap is pulled low while big sunglasses sit on the bridge of my nose. Disguise firmly in place. Although I don’t really need it here in Lawson’s Ledge.
As I exit my car I see a dark-headed man walking down the sidewalk. A twinge of excitement drives through me. Levi?
As I step onto the sidewalk, he p
asses by. It’s not Levi. His face lacks the strong structure of Levi’s. His hair doesn’t boast the thickness and body Levi’s does. It takes a couple of seconds for my heart to return to its normal beating schedule.
Stop!
Shoving down the good feelings thinking of Levi invokes, I walk into The Boutique. The shop sells cute, hip, fashionable clothes. I browse the racks, looking for something to buy. Shopping always relaxes me. Since the clothes all look amber-colored, I take off my sunglasses and hook them on my jeans pocket. Much better. Now the clothes are their true colors.
“Hi, Summer.”
Looking up I see Rachael, the owner, is standing in front of me. “Hi there.”
“I see you found my new merchandise.”
Rachael, who’s about my age, is a pretty woman. She always pulls her brown hair into a bun. Clothes from her shop look great on her small frame. Also, her smile never seems to fade. And she has cheekbones to die for.
“Like I’ve told you before, you have great taste. These dresses are beautiful.” I finger a taupe-colored dress.
“Thanks. You should try one on. I know whatever you choose will look fabulous on you.”
The red trim makes the dress pop, and the material is so soft. “Maybe I will.”
“Nice.” She nods at my choice. “I have some red pumps that would really compliment that dress.”
This is normal shopping. This is how life should be. I shouldn’t have to look over my shoulder at how many photographers are waiting outside. Or worse yet, pointing their lenses inside to see what I’m trying on.
I stand still for a moment, making sure this is real. All I see out of the storefront window is a normal small town. I can see the fronts of the shops across the street. A few people saunter down the sidewalk. A sign across the street boasts a sale on freshly-made fudge.
Fudge? Mmmm. How long has it been since I’ve had fudge?
“Summer, are you okay?”
Rachael’s voice reels me in. This whole Skeet-Levi issue has my mind in a jumble. I can’t seem to concentrate or focus. The last thing I need to be doing is shopping, yet I can’t seem to make myself settle in my secluded house for any length of time. I had to get out. “Yes, I’m fine. I’ll try on the dress and those shoes you mentioned.”
In the dressing room I wriggle out of my jeans. After maneuvering it over my hat the soft dress slips over my head and falls gracefully onto my body. I slip on the red pumps.
“Make sure you come out here so I can see you.”
I hear Rachael over the music playing overhead. The music brings back memories of when I used to shop with Valentine in the early days. Before I was followed around by photographers. My sister and I loved to shop, and we’d make a whole day of it. Thinking about Valentine brings tears to my eyes as well as anger to my heart.
I refuse to think about her now. She’s used me for the last time. Dabbing the corner of my eye with my index finger I will my mind back to a good place. A shopping place.
Taking a deep breath, I step out of the dressing room.
“Wow. I knew the dress would look great. Even with the hat on. Come, look in this mirror.” Rachael nods her head toward the full length glass.
The mirror is only a few steps away. I gaze at my reflection. The fabric seems to love my body shape. The dress looks like it was made just for me. I smile, liking the fact that simple things are beginning to make me happy on the inside.
Who knew? Maybe I would treat myself to some fudge.
I turn slightly toward the window. The fudge sign is still there.
And so is Levi.
My eyes lock with his, and my pulse quickens. This time it really is Levi. A wisp of excitement courses through me. He has a quizzical look on his face, and it’s then I remember I’m wearing a hat, and I’m not sure he even knows who I am.
There is no excitement to his look at all. In fact, he breaks eye contact and starts walking. Away from the shop. I turn back toward Rachael, embarrassed at how I’m feeling inside.
“You know Levi?” Rachael asks.
Obviously Rachael knows Levi.
“Not really. Skeet introduced me to him yesterday.” No use going into all the details. Levi and I are better left apart.
“He’s really cute, isn’t he?”
“He’s okay.” I refuse to talk about how handsome Levi is with another woman.
Rachael shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “He’s more than okay.”
“Hmmm.” I say as little as possible. I don’t need any kind of rumors starting about me and Levi here in Lawson’s Ledge. I mean, I don’t think Rachael is the gossipy type, but I know in the great state of California the shopkeeper would be on the phone with Tonight on the Town in a minute. The next thing you know videos taken from the surveillance cameras would be splashed all over every media venue available talking about how Summer Sinclair was staring at so and so, and what did that mean? Could she be pregnant?
Okay. I know that’s a huge jump, but sadly it’s not far from the truth. That’s how things would go in California.
But somehow I know Levi is better than that. I don’t think he would place himself in situations that would attract attention. Especially bad attention.
He confuses me to say the least.
“Skeet tried to fix us up once about a year ago when Levi was here visiting. We went out on a date.”
Rachael’s words jar my heart. Not a good sign. Why does that bother me? I don’t really know her, or him.
“Didn’t work out?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds as cool as I want to feel inside.
“No. I’m just not his type. We had dinner and had nothing else in common. As far as a date goes, it was a flop. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a really great guy, just not for me.”
I swear her eyes are dreamy for a minute. But then they start to search mine. Are they looking for confirmation that Skeet may have tried to do the same with me and Levi? Is that Skeet’s ultimate goal? I hadn’t really thought of Skeet as a matchmaker regarding me and Levi. I thought he wanted to help me out musically, nothing more.
“Well, like you said, I’m sure he’s a really great guy for somebody. I don’t know if he’ll find her here in this little town though,” I say.
“You have something against Lawson’s Ledge?” Rachael asks.
“No. Not at all. I just think you’re about the prettiest girl around, and if it didn’t work out with you, well then, he better move on to a different town.”
Rachael smiles. “Thanks for the compliment, but there are plenty of pretty girls around here.”
“You would know better than me. I don’t get out often.”
“So, what do you think? Are you going to take the dress and shoes?”
I run my hands down the soft material of the dress relieved to talk about something else besides Levi. “Yes. Definitely.”
“Great. See you after you change.”
It only takes a few minutes for me to slip my jeans and T-shirt back on. The glamorous, fun, flirty feeling I had in the dress leaves me. No longer fun and flirty, I hand my credit card to Rachael at the register.
After leaving the shop, I lay the dress in the car and deposit the shoes in the back seat. I still can’t rid myself of the fudge craving, and after looking around and not spotting Levi, I shove my sunglasses on and head across the street.
A bell chimes as I walk into Frank’s Fudge. A couple of teenage workers look up and smile and ask if they can help me. I can hardly think with all the sweet smells overtaking my brain. I’m not sure I could work in here. I’d probably eat way too much fudge.
Resisting the urge to sample all the different flavors, I select just two, then go outside and sit on the bench. I bite into one of the succulent pieces. It’s still slightly warm and nearly melts in my mouth as a sweet, chocolaty sensation makes me think I’ve never tasted anything so good. There ought to be a law against selling this fudge. I close my eyes, savoring the flavor.
I open my eye
s just in time to see Levi. To see him walk into Rachael’s dress shop. Suddenly I lose interest in the fudge. I sigh. There’s no reason to feel this way. I don’t know what’s wrong with my body, my senses, the way they are reacting to this man.
He is just a guy.
An ordinary, guitar playing, handsome musician who doesn’t want anything to do with me.
I didn’t know such a person existed.
Of course, that’s my problem. I’m not used to being rejected. At least not to my face. Nobody has ever told me no.
Even though I told him no first, Levi’s rejection is very personal. Just like how I have no idea how to handle the zings of excitement thinking about him brings to my body, I have no idea how to handle the sting of his rejection.
And now, the experience of eating this delicious piece of fudge is ruined by Levi walking into Rachael’s shop. What is he doing in there? Figuring out if he and Rachael do have something in common?
Is he asking her out again?
Wrapping the fudge, I decide my thoughts are too crazy to sit here. You’d think I was a novelist the way my mind creates these wild scenarios. Geez, this is messed up. I’m messed up. No wonder I stayed in a foggy haze all the time.
Dealing with feelings, people, reality, well, I’m not sure if I’m a fan.
Especially when it comes to Levi.
I can’t sit here, knowing he’s in there, knowing I’m out here, and he doesn’t want to acknowledge me. What a blow to my ego.
It’s not all about you, Summer.
There’s that Voice again. The one that won’t leave me alone.
The cloudless blue sky seems like an open invitation.
Hello, God! Living twenty-eight years with a certain it’s-all-about-me mindset can’t dissolve in a matter of days. Or months. It’s going to take time. You have to be patient with me. These are strange waters I’m treading, and I’m barely keeping my head above them as it is.
Taking my gaze off of the sky, I close the fudge bag and stand.
“Summer Sinclair?”
Summer's Song Page 3
