by Michelle Lee
“So, how was the festival?” Val starts.
Where is my damn Mojito? The waiter is nowhere in sight, so I take a sip of my water.
“The festival was great. Many small vineyards came out to present their wines. A few of them I can see having a successful go,” I immediately say.
“That sounds promising. Um, so what else have you been doing since it wrapped up?” Tracy adds her question.
“Lounging around the pool or at the beach, just spending time reading and whatnot.” I know they’re my girls and I should be pouring my heart out to them, but at this point I really don’t want to cry anymore. And I know if I open my mouth about all the thinking I’ve been doing, that is exactly what will happen. My last few words are still floating in the air when the waiter comes over with our Mojitos. Grabbing mine, I take a huge sip, feeling the rum burn a little underneath the sweetness of the simple syrup and the freshness of the mint. I feel two sets of eyes on me, but I’m trying to ignore them. I see Tracy bump Val as I take another sip.
“So, are we gonna address the huge-ass elephant that’s sitting in the corner or not?” Val begins.
I grab my Mojito again and, probably faster than I should, start downing it, so I don’t respond.
“Jules, honestly, did you think we were gonna travel hundreds of miles and not bring it up? I know you’re hurting, but I think this is something we need to talk about,” Val continues.
I take another huge gulp of my Mojito, finishing it. I signal our waiter and immediately order another one.
“Look, you can avoid it all you want, but we’ve got nowhere else to be. We understand why you did what you did, to a point. I mean, I don’t think I could handle seeing some skank in my guy’s dressing room, if I had a guy, but I don’t think ending things was the answer. We know you’re scared, we know you think you aren’t worthy of Dash, that you don’t fit into his world, but Jules, you do, more than you know,” Val begins, and then I feel a warmth on my arm. When I look down, Val has gently placed her hand on my arm, gives me a warm smile, and continues, “Jules, there’s something we need to tell you, and it’s going to be shocking and all, but you need to know.”
I abandon my Mojito and focus all my attention on Tracy and Val. They look back and forth between each other, carrying on a silent and private conversation. They’ve been doing that a lot since they got to South Beach. I feel a deep-rooted nervousness grow inside me. My heart skips a few beats before it begins to take off. Whatever they have to tell me is serious. What if something has happened to Dash? What if they are really here to tell me he loved me, but I’m too late?
They must notice a change in me, because Val reaches out and take my hand. “It’s not Dash, honey, he’s okay. Nothing’s happened to him.” She pauses, takes deep breath, and with serious eyes, continues. “Roland was the one responsible for Nadia being in the dressing room, but he didn’t act alone…”
To say I was surprised would be a huge, fat lie. Something about Roland always seemed off. He never made me feel welcomed or comfortable whenever I was around him. He would actually, it seemed, go out of his way to make a point that I didn’t belong and I wasn’t welcome. And of course he didn’t act alone… Nadia was obviously his partner in crime.
“We know what you’re thinking, because we thought it too, but it wasn’t Nadia’s idea. She went along with it because Roland promised she could have Dash again, that he would help her career take off, and also he threatened her if she didn’t do it,” Tracy adds.
My heart sinks. That uneasy feeling swirls in the pit of my stomach. He promised her Dash, that I can understand him doing to get me away from Dash, but threatening her? A biting shiver runs through my body. I can only think Nadia really had to be scared to follow through; how could she think Dash would really leave me? She knew how he felt and he has told her on several occasions that what they had was over and would never happen again. Roland threatened her.
“There’s more.” Tracy words bring me out of my thoughts.
“More?” What more could there be?
Tracy and Val scoot closer. While Val gives my hand a squeeze, Tracy wraps her arm around my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. The restaurant is suddenly silent. The other patrons are nonexistent. All my attention is focused on the two people beside me and the rest of the story they are about to tell me. I nod for one of them to continue. Val’s eyes squeeze shut as she bites her bottom lip as I stare at her. I turn to Tracy; she leans in and whispers in my ear, “It will be okay, Jules.” But for some reason, I don’t believe her. I want to… I desperately want to, but doubt is clawing at my mind. Val’s hand gives mine a squeeze again, drawing my attention back to her. Her eyes show no emotion. No clue as to what she’s about to tell me. “First, Alex was a part of it too. It was no coincidence he kissed you and Dash got a picture of it delivered to his house. But… Okay, here it goes. Roland isn’t really Roland. Well, he is, but he’s just not Roland Adams…”
Her eyes flash over to Tracy. Something flickers in her eyes that I can’t discern before her gaze falls back to mine. “Jules, Roland is really Roland Collins. Jules, he’s Blake’s brother. He’s known who you are from the beginning.”
“From the beginning…” The words come from me. but I don’t register saying them. It’s my voice. This can’t be right. She’s got it all wrong. She has to. Blake?
“Yes, from the beginning, honey…”
“Maybe we should go back to the hotel. Now that I think about it, this isn’t really the place…”
Before Tracy can finish, I immediately interrupt her. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Finish. I don’t want to… I want to know everything. Here. Now.”
“Jules?”
I ignore Tracy, turning my attention back to Val. “Go on. Tell me everything.” Anger starts to simmer in the depth of my soul, slowly rising, building. He took everything from me once. I won’t let him do it again.
“Damn straight he won’t.” The fierceness in her voice along with her words has me giving her a questioning look.
“You said that last part out loud.”
“I did?”
“Yeah, you did. And he won’t, Jules. We, Dash, the guys won’t let Blake or Roland do you any more harm. Dash took care of it.”
“What do you mean?” I pray Dash isn’t hurt or injured because of me, because of Blake. I don’t think I could handle it if that were the case.
“He wouldn’t go into details, but just that he would handle it. He did handle it. I honestly—from what little bit Vic told me—I don’t think we want to know. But just know Dash is fine. He wouldn’t do anything that would put you or him in harm’s way. He lives and breathes for you. He knows that if something were to happen to him, it would happen to you, and vice versa.”
I nod. If something were to happen to Dash, I don’t think I would survive it. No, I know I wouldn’t. I grab my drink and take a few deep sips. It’s probably not the best idea, but I need something to help calm me down. “So there’s more, right? Tell me everything you know. And I mean everything. Don’t sugarcoat any of it because you think I won’t be able to handle it. I’m strong enough. I can handle it.”
Val and Tracy give me a comforting hug and a quick nod to each other before Val continues on. “Okay, so it wasn’t a coincidence that I was hired. Let me rephrase that… the guys knew of me and my work thanks to Jeremy with Stardust. He mentioned my name when Dash had mentioned he was looking for a new PR firm and rep. So, it was ultimately Dash and the guys’ decision to bring me on as their PR rep. Roland may have been the final push to make it happen. Roland knew where you were the entire time and helped Blake get to you. I don’t think either one of them figured Dash into the equation. They never thought you two would end up in a relationship. So, with Roland’s help, things were set into motion to tear you and Dash apart. And it worked.”
My brain can’t fully comprehend what she just said. It seems so impossible. Something out of some twisted movie. I can’t believe Blak
e would… no… I can… I can believe he would do just about anything. He has done just about anything to hurt me in every way. “Is there anything else?” It’s the only thing I can think to ask at the moment. I know as soon as I’m actually able to process everything, a billion and one questions will need to be asked.
“No, not really. That’s really all I know. Well, I do know Roland was instantly fired when Dash found out he was the one that set the whole Nadia thing up.” Her eyes dart away from mine for a fraction of a second, and that’s when I know there’s more.
“Val, please.” I know she’s trying to protect me, but I just need to know. I wouldn’t be able to handle not knowing and not being able to fly home tomorrow to see Dash at the same time. Emotionally, I won’t be able to deal with it all, no matter how many techniques I work through thanks to Dr. Hoffman. Or with the help of a few Mojitos.
“Okaaay. Apparently, Roland always resented Dash and what he had with Nadia. So he used that to his advantage. He knew that was the easiest way to get rid of you. Oh, and there was a fight…”
“Oh my God…”
“Before you sprint off and hijack the first plane you see, Dash is fine. He wasn’t the one who threw the first punch.” Her lips form the widest grin I have ever seen, and there’s this twinkle in her eye. And I swear she wiggles a little in her seat. I wonder what that’s all about.
“Who did?”
“Vic.”
Now it makes sense. Val’s had a thing for guys with muscles that can definitely hold their own, and apparently Vic Rush falls into that category.
“Is…”
“Oh, no worries, Vic is just fine. The guys were in the studio when Roland showed up, things were ‘discussed,’ and Vic lost it and knocked Roland out. When he came to, the police were there and escorted him out in handcuffs. They are still searching for Blake; they had a lead that went cold. He’s no longer at the restaurant. He ran, but they will find him. I tell you, that family tree is beyond twisted.”
“I didn’t think setting someone up to believe your boyfriend is cheating on you was a crime.” There has to be another reason they arrested Roland.
“No, it’s not, but blackmailing is, among other things.”
Blackmailing? Other things? I don’t want to hear any more. I can’t handle more. I’ve reached my limit. All I want to do is go back to the hotel and sleep until I can get on a flight back home… back to Dash.
Tracy must know what I’m thinking. She takes my hand, giving it a strong squeeze as I turn toward her. There is nothing but concern in her eyes. That usual perky smile and bounciness that she possesses is nowhere to be seen. “Not tonight, sweetie. I know we’ve just thrown a lot at you, and you’re probably beyond overwhelmed. But I think you need to give yourself some time to take it all in. I know you probably don’t feel like going to the club, but I really think and feel it will be the best thing for you. Just let us take your mind off of things for one more night, and then tomorrow we all can deal with it. And we can also discuss why you chose to keep from us that Blake was back. You should have said something, Jules, to either one of us. You didn’t have to deal with it all on your own. You’re never alone in anything, Jules. We’ve got your back—always. So, do you think you can do that?”
Emotion wells up inside, and I feel the prick of tears behind my eyes. With everything I have, I keep them at bay. Tracy is chomping at the bit to say more, so I nod.
“We completely understand you want to run back home. We understand more than anything how much you love Dash and that you did what you did because at the time you thought it was what’s best for you. We understand you think at times you still aren’t strong enough or good enough to stand by Dash’s side. We know Blake was… is… well, there aren’t really enough words good enough to describe him… they haven’t invented them yet, actually. Anyway, he made you feel like you weren’t worthy enough to spit shine his shoes, but we know you are. And we also know that you are slowly learning that you are. But we also understand and accept that there will maybe always be this subconscious part of you that makes you think you will never be enough. I think there’s this small, reserved, secret part of you that Blake created that doesn’t allow you to see a relationship for what it really is. It’s like its sole purpose it to taint and portray any relationship you may have with a man as what you had with Blake to a point. It’s like it makes you believe at some point your new relationship will mimic what you had with Blake. Does that make sense?”
Wow… just wow… What Tracy is saying does make sense, but is it true? Is that what I’m doing with Dash—just waiting for some point in time for our relationship to mimic what I had with Blake? There really isn’t any doubt in my mind that she’s wrong. What she’s saying is what Dr. Hoffman had implied during one of our sessions. But like then, I brushed it off as implausible. Now… now it’s a possibility.
Tracy must notice my acceptance of what she’s saying and continues. “I know there’s a part of you that’s also scared about where this relationship is going and what obstacles are going to get in the way, but isn’t it worth the risk? Isn’t Dash worth the risk? I’ve never seen you so happy or so in love and, from what I’ve seen the times I’ve been with the two of you, it goes both ways. You two complete each other; you’re two missing pieces of the same puzzle. You owe it to yourself to find your way back to him, and you owe it to him… you owe it to yourself because you are enough, Jules and we will be here to remind you whenever that doubt creeps in. Now, that’s blow this taco stand and go get our groove on. I think Club Cameo is just what you need. What do you say?” When she finishes, her face loses all concern and that bubbliness I’ve come to know and love is back. Tracy’s eyes sparkle, her smile beaming.
“What do you say, Bennett?” I look to Val and see the same encouragement and concern in her eyes as well. Right at that very moment, everything clicks like tumblers in a lock.
What do I say? I know they’re right. I feel something stir inside me, pulling and gluing the pieces of me back together. If what I have been through with Dash thus far hasn’t totally broken me, I can get through anything this world throws at me. After all, I’m still standing; I’m still here.
Tracy’s and Val’s words continue to settle into my brain, pushing away all of the hurt from the past and rubbing out some of my insecurities. The truth is, some of them will always be there, but I am a strong woman, and I love Dash with everything I am and have, and that speaks volumes. Knowing my girls are here to back me up and are right by my side makes it a little easier to accept.
I know there’s nothing I can do right this moment, so….
“Let’s go.” Tomorrow I will get my heart back.
I ATE WAY too much Ropa Vieja. I feel like I am stuffed beyond capacity. If Club Cameo is a dance club, I’m a goner. First, I really can’t dance, and second, being as full as I am, with my luck I’ll probably puke all over the dance floor. The cab pulls up in front of the club, and the line is practically around the building. As we get out, I can hear the faint sounds of rock music coming from the club.
“What kind of club is this?” I ask no one in particular.
Of course, Tracy pipes up. “It’s an everything club. Ya know, with dancing and sometimes concerts. Tonight it sounds like we’re here on concert night.”
“Definitely sounds like it,” I agree.
I start to make my way down the line when Val grabs my wrist and pulls me, along with Tracy, toward the front of the line. “Don’t worry, I’ve got connections.”
There’re some pissed off comments coming from random people as Val pushes to the front of the line. The doorman smiles down at her and easily lets us in. I give her a look like “How did you…?” and Val just graciously shrugs her shoulders.
Once the door closes behind us, the place is alive, and I can’t help but feel its excitement flow through me. Some people are dancing, others are drinking, but most are glued to the stage as they scream and yell for the band that has just
finished performing. Val continues to pull me and Tracy along to a reserved table that has a perfect view of the stage. My heart sinks, and I feel a pang in my chest. The last time I was in a club and watched a band perform was the night of the benefit. I push that memory right out of my mind and remind myself that Dash loves me, only me, and tomorrow I will fix everything. If he will let me.
The crowd is electric, and their excitement is infectious. The lights dim and everyone goes completely wild. I find myself on the edge of my seat waiting for what’s to come. Val and Tracy give each other looks like something is up, but I just shrug it off and get into the mood, hooting and hollering like everyone else. I don’t know who’s about to perform, but they must be incredible by the crowd’s reaction. The stage is shrouded in complete darkness, but you can just make out the band walking on. The crowd roars louder. Tracy and Val, again, give each other a look. Before I know it, the stage changes. A spotlight casts a heavenly, bluish glow on the lone piano in the middle of the stage. Everything and everyone else is shrouded in complete darkness. I suddenly feel eyes burning into me, and I turn to find Tracy and Val, on either side of me, staring at me with the goofiest grins on their faces.
“What?” I question, a little confused.
“Nothing, just pay attention,” Tracy directs.
“Why?” I ask.
“Just focus, Bennett,” Val insists.
I suddenly feel like a scolded child being made to do something I don’t want to do but am compelled to anyways. I refocus my attention to the stage. The screaming becomes deafening, and then I see why. Dash saunters across the stage and perches himself in front of the piano. The crowd erupts in a frenzy of “woots” and animalistic sounds. I think a few shouts of “I love you, Dash” are thrown into the mix as well. I can’t help but smile. Dash grips the microphone and adjusts it with a shaky hand. He seems really nervous for some odd reason. He’s usually at ease on stage, owning it. All of the times I’ve seen him perform, he’s always been so confident; he lives for being on stage, but the Dash that sits at the piano now seems anything but.
