by Kim Loraine
Those words would hurt coming from anyone, but to hear them from the lips of the sister she’d always looked up to brought a pain that was deep and harsh.
She fought back the tears and the trembling in her lip as she blew out a breath and focused her attention on the show playing in the background. Snagging the remote, she flipped through the channels, her eyes glazing over at the bombardment of commercials and reality shows. Her heart stopped when she saw her face on the screen with the words Pregnancy Scandal in bold white letters scrolling across the bottom.
“What the actual fuck?”
Valerie gasped and choked on her tea as she turned her attention to the screen. Footage of Angela passing out in front of the camera crew, Aiden gallantly catching her up in his arms, and then her leaving the hospital, pale and alone. The reporter speculated on who the father was, how far along she was, and if that was what broke up the band.
“You’re not—”
“No! No way.” Angela interrupted her before she could get the words out.
Her phone started dancing across the coffee table and she sighed. She wanted to cry.
Chapter 39
Garrett took in the headline that kept appearing all over social media—Pregnant and Alone. There was a picture of Angela looking pale and tired, one hand resting on her belly. His heart jumped into his throat. She was pregnant? He read on, worried about what he’d find there.
“Sources close to the estranged couple say Aiden is distraught. He’s unsure if he’s the father but plans to be involved in every way he can. In light of the recent scandal involving Peters and her drummer, Garrett Donalson, speculations are being aired about the paternity of the baby.”
He had the sinking feeling his phone was about to start ringing off the hook. As if on cue, it vibrated in his pocket.
“Dude, you knocked her up?” Parker’s voice was soft and concerned.
“I can’t believe she wouldn’t call me.”
“She probably couldn’t face you.”
Sighing, Garrett thought back to that awful moment when she’d chosen.
“Do you think she really doesn’t know whose it is?”
Garrett was about to throw that question away with a clear and concise denial, but thought better of it. There were a lot of things she never would have done before all this started. “I’m not sure,” was all he could offer.
“Shit, man. I’m sorry.”
He felt that uncomfortable ache, that pressure on his chest at the thought of her with another man. The idea of her carrying another man’s baby made everything worse.
“She made her choice. I can’t force her to talk to me. I’ll be there if she needs me. If it’s mine.”
“All right. Let me know if you need to drink her away tonight. I’ll come over with my buddies Jack Daniels and Jim Beam.”
They said their goodbyes and Garrett sank onto the couch, head in his hands. After a few moments of wrangling his emotions, anger won out over depression and he latched on to it. Dialing Angela’s number, he waited as the phone rang and rang. When it went to voicemail, he hung up, knowing the call had been purposely denied.
Fury burning in his chest, he pulled out the folded piece of paper he’d gotten from Casey, the ER nurse he’d met when Jamie was in the hospital. He stared down at the seven digits and fought off the feeling of wrongness as he dialed her number. If Angela had moved on, so should he.
The phone rang twice before she picked up. Her voice seductive and husky, so different from Angela’s soft comfort.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Casey. It’s Garrett.”
She chuckled. “Well, hello there, Mr. Rock Star.”
“What’re you doing tonight?” His voice stuck in his throat for a brief moment but he pushed the words through.
“I don’t know. That depends on you.”
“I can’t live like this anymore!” Angela paced back and forth across Aiden’s living room. “First I was helping your image, now I’m the knocked up whore who doesn’t even know who her baby daddy is.”
Aiden stood watching. He wisely chose to keep silent and let her rant.
“This was supposed to be the sacrifice I made for the band. To get us where we wanted to be. Now . . . now I’ve lost everything—everyone.” The tears came then, hot and uncontrollable.
His face changed the moment she started crying. She watched it crumble from a mask of self-confident energy to one filled with worry and questions. “What can I do?”
She didn’t know what anyone could do to fix this mess. All she knew was that she needed out. She needed to leave this world and figure out the road that would get her back to happiness.
“Nothing. You’ve done enough. Take advantage of it while you can. I’m out. I’m leaving Backbeat.”
His eyes went wide. “You can’t leave. You’ll be in breach of contract. They’ll take everything you’ve got and then some.”
Another tear slipped down her cheek. He was right. If she left now she’d never get out from under the label’s crushing debt.
He pulled a beer out of the fridge and tossed it to her, grabbing one for himself and cracking it open.
“It’s eleven in the morning.”
“I’m not telling anyone. You need it.”
She popped the top and took a swig while sitting herself down on the arm of the couch. “What am I going to do?”
“Give me two weeks. We’ll get them to drop you. Then you’re out with no worries about contracts and lawyers.”
“How are we going to do that?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her, smirking. “I’m going to play up my broken heart and you’re going to play pregnant.”
She squirmed on the inside, uncomfortable with the idea of more lies. “I don’t know. They already hate me.”
He shook his head. “No, they might not love you the way they did but you’re still selling. People still want your autograph. When we’re done, you’ll be at the bottom of the charts, no one will want to talk to you. Backbeat will have no choice but to get rid of you.”
The idea struck her as hilarious moments after it sunk in. She laughed uncontrollably, tears burned her eyes but now they were tears of amusement.
“What’s funny?”
“You. This.”
He still looked confused.
“We got in this mess because you were helping me get to the top. Now, here we are, eight months later, and you’re helping me to the bottom. It’s ridiculous.”
He burst out laughing, too, his eyes twinkling and she remembered what it was she’d liked so much about him. He may be a self-serving media whore, but he was also a caring and kind man.
“I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” he offered.
Shaking her head, she took another pull from her beer. “Nope, we’re both at fault here. I shouldn’t have gotten carried away. Turns out, fame isn’t all I thought it would be. God, what a cliché.”
It wasn’t hard. Backbeat was already chomping at the bit to get rid of Angela after losing both Parker and Garrett. She’d spent most of her two weeks canceling appearances due to illness and when she did interviews she was consciously in a daze.
Marcus sat behind his desk, a view of the LA skyline the only decoration in his otherwise empty office. “I know what you’re doing.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to fight off the smirk that wanted to curl her lips. “I’m not feeling well, Marcus. Morning sickness is a bitch.”
“You’ve missed five scheduled appearances. Aiden has had to replace you three times with other artists.”
“The strain of this pregnancy is just too much for me.” Placing her hands across her stomach, she emphasized the point. “I can’t keep up.”
He slammed his hands down o
n the desk in fury, the sharp slap making her jump. “Bullshit! You and I both know you’re not pregnant. That’s just another piece of shit I fed to the press to keep you relevant.”
Her jaw dropped. “You? It was you?”
His cheeks reddened when he realized what he’d just confessed.
“How much of it was you?”
Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath. “I fucking made you. Don’t pretend you didn’t reap the rewards of my actions. It would have taken you years to become the star you are now without my help.”
“Are you kidding me? The video? Was that you?”
“That was you, my dear. I just helped you along. There’s no such thing as bad press. Besides, Aiden is my priority. He’s the real cash cow.”
She paced his office, rage making her blood sing. “I want out. I want Backbeat to drop me.”
He shook his head and snickered. “You think I’m getting rid of the most talked about slut in the business? You’re the only thing the gossip rags are interested in. You’re poised to win best new artists at the Grammys. No fucking way.”
Pulling out her phone, she felt a swell of excitement in her chest as she dropped her Ace on the table. She’d come in here hoping to get something recorded for a sexual harassment complaint, but ended up with so much more.
“You are going to do exactly that. Or I’m sending this file to everyone on this label.”
All the color bled from his face. “You fucking little cunt.”
“Tsk-tsk, that’s no way to treat someone who’s holding your balls in her hands. All I have to do is twist and you’ll be down for the count.”
A soft knock on his door had him running a hand over his sweaty brow and cursing.
“Decide, Marcus. Keep me on, and I’ll ruin you. Let me go and we don’t ever have to talk about this again.”
“Fine. Fuck. You’re out.”
“I want the paperwork today.”
Another knock broke the silence as he mulled it over.
“I’ll have the courier message it to you by end of business.”
She nodded, hoping he couldn’t see the trembling in her knees.
“If it isn’t in my hands by six this evening I’m sending the recording. Are we clear?”
His eyes narrowed but he responded with a venom laced, “Crystal.”
She turned and strode toward the door as his assistant opened it.
“Marcus? Violet Hour is here to see you. They’re not on the books but Mr. Boyd is insistent.”
Angela grinned as she slipped out the open doorway and offered a wink to Aiden when she passed him.
She heard Marcus mutter, “Fine, send them in. My day can’t get any worse.”
Oh, yes it can, asshole. It’s about to get a whole lot worse.
Chapter 40
“Dude, did you hear? Angie got dropped by Backbeat. She’s coming home.” Parker’s voice floated through the open door before his body made it inside Garrett’s new house.
Garrett set down his guitar, notebook, and pen as Parker came in. “I did.”
“Well?” His friend stared at him expectantly.
“What?”
Parker rolled his eyes.
“She’s coming back. I thought you’d have a bigger reaction.”
Garrett shrugged, trying desperately not to let his emotions come through. Inside he was a ball of tension. He wanted to see her and he didn’t. No one had ever hurt him so badly.
“She’s pregnant with your kid and you’re not even a little . . . anything about seeing her?”
“It might not be mine. You saw those pictures of her with Aiden. They finally gave in and got together for real.”
Parker shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about that. She’s been a lot of things I never expected, but she’s not the kind of woman who’d be stupid enough to go unprotected with two guys.”
“Accidents happen. We were together without any protection. Who’s to say she wouldn’t do the same with Aiden.”
A huff of breath escaped Parker as he plopped down on the couch. “I’m mad at her, too, but that was low. She’s not some skank trolling the tour bus and looking to get knocked up.”
“Well, she managed that part of it easily enough.”
“God, you’re such an asshole. Besides, it’s not like you’re a saint. What about that groupie at the beginning of the tour? Or Casey?”
“I didn’t sleep with the groupie. And Casey and I are dating. We haven’t slept together yet.”
Parker raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “I get that you’re hurt. You should be. She ditched us. Left you. But man, she’s going to need us.”
He started tapping out slow paradiddles on his knees as he considered that. He couldn’t sit there waiting for her to decide she wanted him. He knew that wasn’t a possibility. His resolve would crumble and she’d own his heart all over again.
“I’ve moved on. Things are going good with Casey, I already sold a few songs to Maxis Records—”
“Whoa, wait a second. You’ve been writing?”
“Yeah. Honestly, I haven’t been able to stop since we came home.”
“And you’re selling the songs instead of recording them with us?”
Anger took hold and mixed with the anxiety of knowing he didn’t have a band to record with anymore. “There isn’t an us to record with. The band is gone.”
“There’s still a me. We can find a new lead singer, or hell, you can sing all Phil Collins style and we’ll get a guitarist. I bet Donovan would jump at the chance to play with us again.”
He shook his head. “Somehow I doubt Donovan will want to take Angie’s place.”
“Hmm, yeah, you’re right. I just like to look at him.”
“Okay, reign it in there. You’re engaged, remember?”
Parker chuckled. “I didn’t forget. I’m allowed to appreciate beauty when I see it.”
“Have you talked to Jason about that?”
“He knows how I am and loves me anyway.”
Parker waved a hand, a gesture of dismissal. “Stop changing the subject. We need to either put together a whole new band or start auditions for a lead singer.”
The thought of replacing Angela sent a pang of discomfort through him, hitting him square in the chest. “I don’t know. It’s only been a month.”
“Dude, I need to play. Can we at least start practicing again? Even if it’s just a little jam here and there. I’m going crazy not having anything to do.”
“You could get a job.”
“Psh.” Parker dismissed his suggestion with a chortle as he got up and made his way to the fridge. “I’m way too pretty for manual labor. I was meant to be admired.” Parker handed him a beer and smirked. “And you can’t be happy with Casey. She’s practically a groupie in scrubs. You’ve never gone for chicks like that.”
His defenses shot up and he rolled his shoulders to try and calm the storm inside. “You haven’t given her a chance.”
“I don’t need to. Donovan told me all about her. She’s taken every firefighter at the station for a ride. Did you know she even tried to pick up Michael after he and Lena got married?”
“I like her.”
“Yeah, you like something, but it isn’t her personality.” Parker pantomimed squeezing a set of boobs.
“Fuck off.”
He watched as Parker took a long pull from his beer and waited for him to say something else. Mercifully, his friend took the high road. “Show me what you’ve been writing. Let’s put something together, just for fun.”
Garrett heaved a sigh and pulled out his phone. He connected it to his wireless speakers and scrolled down the screen until he found the audio files he’d recorded. “No comments from the peanut
gallery about the meaning behind the lyrics. Got it?”
Parker sat back and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Fine, I’ll just sit here and silently judge you.”
“Great.”
Angela huffed out a breath as she pulled her luggage behind her, feeling the wheels catch on the cracks in the pavement and wishing she’d asked Donovan to meet her at baggage claim. Her shoulders ached from the weight of her backpack combined with her gig bag and suitcase. She knew he’d be waiting in the cell phone lot and had texted him the moment she’d claimed her belongings.
He smiled as soon as he caught sight of her. Once upon a time she’d found him attractive in a less than platonic way—for about five minutes. His cocky attitude and sad taste in music quickly steered him straight to the friend zone.
As soon as she crossed the street he was there, taking her guitar and bag, offering his easy grin.
“You look like shit,” he said.
“Thanks a lot. You smell like a campfire.”
He sneered at her Beatles T-shirt and tattered jeans. “Still dressing like a teenager I see. When are you going to figure out that The Beatles are a poor man’s Stones.”
That lightened her mood. They’d been engaged in a verbal sparring match over music since the beginning of their friendship.
“Poor man? Uneducated man, more likely.”
He loaded her stuff into the back of the jeep and in a surreal moment she saw his lighthearted mask slip. Worry clouded his eyes and turned down the corners of his mouth.
Before she could tell him not to, she was enveloped in his warm embrace. She was sure he’d weigh in on her situation eventually, but at that moment he knew what she needed. No questions, no judgments, just a hug.
