Can't Walk Away

by Sandy James

  He let out a small sigh. “I’m sorry, Savannah, but I’ve failed you.”

  “Sorry? Why would you be sorry?”

  “I’ve tried hard to keep publicity low key, but I fear we can no longer hide in plain sight.”

  “I’m confused,” she admitted. “What exactly are you talking about?”

  “I have had calls from two national morning shows asking for you to appear.”

  Everything was spinning too fast for her to catch her breath. “I don’t understand. Why all this attention? Why now?”

  Greg’s voice continued to buzz in her ear. “You’ve gone viral. That’s all there is to it. The YouTube videos. The Allied publicity push. The word of mouth about your performances at Words and Music. It’s all multiplying. Add that you’re in a relationship with Brad, who’s been out of the public eye for years. You’ve become the celebrity du jour.”

  * * *

  Brad was tired of being on the outside of whatever was happening to the woman he loved. The Watchdog story had been a blow to his pride, probably because seeing all those names compiled like a team roster was humiliating. He could only assume Savannah was as disgusted with him as he was with himself. Had he kept his pants more firmly zipped, not only would he not have to see her looking at him with such sad eyes, he also wouldn’t be the laughingstock of Nashville.

  “What did you tell them?” she demanded.

  Brad couldn’t wait a moment longer. “That’s Greg, right?”

  She gave him a curt nod.

  “Put him on speaker.”

  Although she seemed miffed, probably at being ordered about, he didn’t care. If he didn’t know what was happening, he couldn’t help solve her problems.

  She did as he asked, holding the phone out so they could all participate in the conversation.

  “You’re on speaker, Greg,” Savannah announced.

  “Ah, then Brad is now listening in.”

  “Damn right,” Brad replied. “Get me up to speed, if you don’t mind.”

  “Please,” Savannah added with a scolding gaze.

  “Please,” he parroted back.

  “I was just telling Savannah,” Greg replied, “that she is going to have to ride out this wave of publicity. So are you, my friend. The waters could get pretty choppy.”

  “I can handle it.” Even as he said that, Brad wondered exactly how bad things were going to get. The press was already using his tawdry past against Savannah, and the more response they got from that tack, the more sensational the stories would grow. Not that they needed to be embellished. He’d given the press more than enough to work with.

  Wallowing in self-pity wouldn’t help her. He couldn’t change his past, and he couldn’t call off the dogs. Greg was right—Brad and Savannah would have to hold tightly to each other to get through this. Apologizing wasn’t going to make anything change, so he focused on damage control. “Tell us what to do, Greg.”

  “Nothing,” Greg replied. “Live your lives and don’t talk to any reporters. I’ll decline the offers—for now.”

  “Offers?” Brad asked.

  “That’s what I was explaining to Savannah. There are a couple of national news shows asking for interviews. I’ll put them off until we need them.”

  “Why would we ever need them?” Savannah asked.

  “If push comes to shove,” Greg replied, “we might be able to put them to good use.”

  * * *

  A week later and Brad began to understand what Greg had meant about putting the news shows to good use. Publicity had escalated. Evidently the combination of a man-whore songwriter and a mysterious, talented singer was irresistible. He was sick and tired of hearing about his past love life, but the stories just kept coming.

  Greg had finally gotten fed up and decided it was time for Savannah to go on the offensive. An appearance on a national show could turn the tide in her favor. He’d booked an interview on Wake Up, America. Although Brad wanted to be at her side, Greg insisted she’d be better off on her own. Her petite size and vulnerable air would make it seem as though the paparazzi were ganging up on a poor little single mother. If Brad was there, his presence would invite the reporter to shift the attention to him and his past stupidity, something Greg wanted to minimize.

  Brad was now nothing more than an anchor around her neck.

  With a shake of his head, he turned his attention back to rehearsal. Savannah was struggling to find focus, and the song kept coming out wrong. Of course it was one of his songs—the last one he’d written in nearly a month. The gamut of emotions caused by the craziness in their lives had silenced the music in his mind. All that remained in his head was one thing: his love for Savannah.

  “It’s still not right.” She set her guitar aside and looked back at Leah and Maggie.

  They both protested, insisting she was fantastic, until her raised hand brought their false praise to a stuttering halt. “Brad?”

  He went over to her and took her hand in his. “We’ll work on it.”

  A world-weary sigh slipped out. “I appreciate the honesty.”

  “It’ll be fine, love.” Her phone rang right as he brushed a kiss on her lips. “Wind Beneath My Wings” told him her mother was calling. “You better get that.”

  Savannah answered, and in a matter of moments, she’d fallen into a panic. “Is she okay? Where are you now?” After listening for a few tense seconds, she nearly shouted, “I’m on my way!”

  Brad steadied her by gripping her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone attacked Caroline.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Caroline handled things much better than her mother. Savannah couldn’t help but admire her daughter’s ability to cope with what had happened.

  “Attack” had been too harsh a word. The men hadn’t truly harmed Caroline. But at her tender age, having three photographers stalking her, shooting picture after picture as she walked in the park with her grandmother, had been frightening and was still giving Savannah nightmares.

  The press had become relentless. Everywhere she and Brad went, they were hounded. The dark side of fame had descended almost as quickly as the fame itself. She could handle it touching her. Having that darkness reaching out to envelop Caroline?

  That, she couldn’t allow.

  Brad fit his legs against hers as he snuggled up to her back. They often spooned as they slept. When they slept. His insomnia had become as bad as her own.

  “You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered.

  “Fine,” she replied, trying not to grumble at him. The question, which he asked multiple times a day, had begun to fray her already taut nerves. Each new day found her on the verge of a panic attack, and she felt a little more of her self-control slipping away.

  One more thing would surely push her over the edge, and God help whoever was in her way when that happened.

  “Are you going to talk to People magazine?” he asked.

  “Greg thinks I should. He knows the reporter and thinks she’ll give the story the right spin—maybe get some of these bloodsuckers to lay off.” As if…Now she understood why so many celebrities chose homes far away from the city. They needed their privacy. She was beginning to miss hers.

  “Are you ready for Wake Up, America?”

  Hardly. Savannah dreaded that appearance with every ounce of her being. But the day was fast approaching, and she had less than a week to brace herself. This interview was supposed to be her chance to deflect attention from her relationship with Brad and shift the focus to her music. That was Greg’s plan, but she wasn’t as confident of success as he and Brad were. “I’ll be fine.”

  “‘Fine.’” He scoffed. “Is that the only word you know lately?”

  She craned her neck to glance back at him. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Tell me the truth.”

  “The truth? I just wanted to have a nice steady job singing. That was all. Instead…” She let her head fall back to the pillow. There wasn’t
anything Brad could do to repair the damage. Besides, he’d had only the best of intentions, even if he hadn’t shared any of his plans with her to see how she felt. He’d gone right ahead and…“Sorry. I really am fine, baby. Okay?”

  * * *

  No, not okay.

  But what was Brad supposed to do? He’d fucked up. There was no other word for it. In his desire to make her a star, he’d done exactly that.

  And destroyed her life.

  “I’m sorry,” he said for what seemed like the millionth time.

  “I know.”

  Waiting to see if she would tell him anything more, he struggled for the right thing to say, for the right thing to do. How could he make this better?

  He couldn’t. That was the problem. The genie was out of the bottle and he wasn’t going to be able to stuff it back in. Greg was doing a good job of damage control, but no matter how much positive light he tried to shine on Savannah’s career, the tabloids came back to one thing.

  She was dating the Hitman, and he was the scum of the earth. A womanizer. None of the reporters bothered to talk about how he’d nursed Katie through that horrible time when she was dying. Highlighting anything that might paint him as a good guy wasn’t nearly as important as finding names of his past sexual conquests.

  Funny, that list was a lot longer than the true tally of the woman he’d actually been with. Wannabe singers were popping out of the woodwork to get their fifteen minutes of fame by talking about their torrid affairs with the Hitman. Their stories were at best exaggerated, at worst out-and-out lies. Lord knew she had enough on her plate at the moment.

  Savannah’s breaths became deep and even, meaning she was finally getting some sleep. Each day seemed to drain her a little more, and he was worried. He knew she was getting sick and tired of him asking how she was, but he couldn’t help himself. She’d lost a little weight, something such a petite woman couldn’t really afford. There were dark circles under her eyes. But the most obvious sign of her distress was in her voice.

  When she sang, she’d lost some of the luster, some of the sparkle that made her so damned special. Her performances were mechanical. They were technically proficient, and yet they lacked the polish that had her first single selling like crazy. Ethan’s opinion of her performance that night was that Savannah was “phoning it in.” Brad agreed, but she was stressed enough. He wasn’t about to tell her she needed to do something to get her groove back when he’d been the one to knock her down.

  Savannah would be better off without me.

  He wouldn’t leave her. Oh, no. That would only be fuel on the fire. Nor would he push her away. He loved her too much to ever hurt her like that. So the poor woman was stuck with him as her albatross until she wised up enough to walk away.

  * * *

  Russ stormed into the office and tossed a paper on the desk. “Number twenty! Can you believe it?”

  Brad picked up the paper. “Billboard?”

  “Yep.” Plopping on the couch, Russ grinned. “Maybe that’ll put a smile back on our girl’s face.”

  Since Russ refused to quit calling Savannah “our girl,” Brad had given up trying to get him to stop. Had she been Russ’s girl, she wouldn’t be in the middle of this mess. But then again, she wouldn’t be number twenty on the country chart with a bullet, either. “Maybe.”

  After the surprise Russ had just dealt him, Brad was ready for the day to settle down. Instead, Ethan came strolling in. “What are you doing here?” Brad asked.

  “Isn’t that a nice greeting?” Ethan shot him a glare. “Did you forget the monthly partners’ meeting?”

  A frantic glance to the desk calendar made Brad groan. “It’s the first.”

  “Yep.” Ethan took a seat next to Russ. “Time for our meeting. I call the three of us to order. Any new business?”

  Russ jokingly raised his hand.

  “I recognize the junior partner,” Ethan quipped.

  “I move that we promote Savannah to our headliner.”

  “Hmm.” Ethan rubbed his chin. “I second. She’s more than earned it.”

  Brad shook his head. “The last thing she needs is more pressure.”

  “What pressure?” Russ asked. “She’s our headliner in everything but name only. She brings in the crowds. We might as well acknowledge it. And while we’re at it, we could give the woman a raise appropriate to the amount of business she’s brought to the place.”

  “If we do that,” Ethan said with a wink, “we’ll make her rich.”

  “She’s going to be rich anyway.” The words fell out in a grumble that Brad hadn’t intended. He couldn’t shake the guilt that great things were happening for Savannah because of him, but she hadn’t wanted any of them.

  Her intent had never been to make a fortune. She’d never wanted to be in People or on Wake up, America. Not once had she ever thought she’d be famous enough that the paparazzi would stalk her or her daughter. Yes, great things were happening—if a person wanted to surrender her privacy, her whole damn life, to the media.

  “We’re not doing anything without her consent,” Brad insisted. A knock on the office door drew his attention. “Come in!”

  Savannah was the last person he’d expected to see. When he’d left her that morning, she was intent upon driving Caroline to her parents’ place and lying low for the day. The wan cast to her face made him pop to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

  With a trembling hand, she held out a packet of stapled papers that had once been folded like a business letter. “I can’t believe this,” she said, her voice as thin as a reed.

  “Can’t believe what?” Brad took the papers and tried to read the first page, but the words wouldn’t register. “What the hell is this?”

  “Michael is suing me. Says that I owe him agent fees for everything I’ve done since he walked out.”

  “What?” He started flipping through the pages as his anger climbed.

  Ethan and Russ both rose and came over to see what Brad was reading.

  “That bastard.” He handed the papers to Ethan, who held them so both he and Russ could read the first page.

  Ethan shook his head. “What a prick.”

  “The guy’s got balls,” Russ added. Then he smiled at Savannah. “Don’t sweat this, honey.”

  “When this plays out, he’ll be paying you back,” Ethan said. “With interest.”

  “Or I could just break his legs for you,” Russ offered with a goofy grin, although he was probably partly serious.

  Unable to stand there and do nothing, Brad went to Savannah and pulled her into a hug. “It’ll be fine, love.” While there was no doubt any lawsuit brought by a man who’d stolen his client’s money and abandoned his kid would be tossed right out of court, this was going to pile even more stress on her. Her slender shoulders were clearly overloaded as it was. “I know some really great lawyers.”

  “I already called Greg,” she said, pushing away from him.

  “Good,” Brad said with a nod. Greg was well aware of Michael’s checkered past. His advice, as always, was sure to be stellar. “What did he say?”

  “He said his brother’s a lawyer who has a lot of experience with entertainment law. I’m supposed to meet with them both after lunch.”

  “Good,” he said again. “I’ll get things done here and be ready to go with you.”

  “No, I can handle it,” she insisted.

  Of course she didn’t need him. He’d caused her nothing but misery from the moment she’d stepped onto his stage. “I’d like to go with you, Savannah.”

  “I just figured…” Savannah shrugged. “It’s fine if you’re too busy.”

  “I’m never too busy for you, and you damn well know it.” He was practically shouting. Both Ethan and Russ shot him scowls, which meant that his anger was obvious. “I’ve still got people trying to learn everything they can about Michael. It’s been mostly blind alleys so far, but maybe something will pay off soon. Then we’ll have more ammunition to use a
gainst the jerk. I’m doing everything I can to help you, Savannah.”

  Although her expression was resigned, she nodded.

  “Do you want me to go?” he asked.

  She thought it over for a few moments. “Your temper might get the better of you. Let me handle this one alone. Okay?”

  He gave her a reluctant nod, and she quickly left the office.

  After she was gone, Ethan went to the door she’d left open and closed it. Then he faced Brad. “What can I do to help?”

  Since Brad had expected Ethan to scold him, he wasn’t sure how to respond. He was still reeling from Savannah’s choice to handle her ex by herself. He tried to rationalize her actions by attributing them to her being thoughtful of his need to be at Words & Music. “Not sure, but I’ll let you know.”

  “Same here,” Russ added. “I wanna help.”

  “The guy’s a fucking moron,” Brad said. “He steals her blind then thinks he can score more now that she’s getting a name?”

  “Not to mention all the back child support he owes her,” Ethan added. “Not sure why he’d open that Pandora’s box. I’d say his lawyer’s a fucking moron, too.”

  “Some judge will throw it out,” Russ insisted. “It’ll never hit a courtroom.”

  While Brad was inclined to agree, he couldn’t help but keep his cynicism. “Never say never.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The appointment went well, but Savannah couldn’t seem to get her runaway anxiety under control. Greg’s brother, Geoffrey, was every bit as composed and focused as Greg, and she had no doubt he was a good attorney. She’d given her trust to Greg, which meant she would offer it to his brother. Her only hope was that Michael might come to his senses before things got out of control.

  She felt cornered. Trapped.

  Greg put his hand on her shoulder. “This will work out, my dear.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  He gave her a squeeze before his hand dropped away. “I’m not saying this won’t get a little…messy. But I do promise you that Geoffrey will not only bring an end to this frivolous civil suit, he will make Michael sorely regret harassing you.”