“I understand you want to talk about the recent statement regarding your father,” Sig said to Carlos. “Would you mind giving me some background, first?”
Jack loosened his involuntary fists when he noticed the camera pointing his way.
“Actually, I’d like to stick to my prepared statement.” His son’s tone was cool, yet polite. He handed a page to Sig. “I’ve made a copy for you.”
“But you’ll be giving me a chance to get more details, right?”
A smile flitted across Carlos’s face. “If you have questions about the statement, sure.”
His muscles loosened. Carlos acted as if he handled interviews every day. Not that he’d relax his guard. He’d been trapped one too many times over the years, and Sig Daniels reminded him of every chop-busting reporter he’d ever met.
Unease grew as Daniels lobbed softball questions to Carlos. He’d seen this soften-the-subject-then-whap-them approach before. His back muscles tightened. Sally glanced at him then winked. Didn’t help, but he appreciated her gesture.
“So, Carlos, you seem pretty comfortable with your father. I’m surprised. I think most of the viewers watching would be more than a little angry. Not only did you miss out on the opportunities a rich father could have given you, he didn’t show for your activities. He didn’t attend your cum laude graduation.” He leaned forward. “He never contacted you, not once. That’s gotta tick you off, man. Unless he bought you off before this interview.”
He felt more than heard Sally’s gasp.
“I’m convinced my parents took the actions they thought best for me. Besides, my dad kept up with my progress. That told me he never stopped caring.”
Her body stiffened next to his.
“Really? Kept up with you in what ways?”
Carlos clenched his fists. Uh-oh. Getting angry with Daniels was not a good sign. You’ve done great, son, don’t blow it now.
Carlos glanced at his parents, but Jack couldn’t read his expression.
“Not part of our joint statement, but I agreed to this interview to set the record straight. You spoke with Cristal and know that Jack isn’t her father. Jack kept quiet to protect her and her real father. He used the same discretion with me. I know he got regular reports on me, I’ve seen the photos. That’s why I’m not angry.”
“But what about his not bothering—”
Carlos made a slashing motion with his hand. “No more on this topic. Do you have other questions? If not, we’re done here.”
Daniels kept his gaze on Carlos, and whatever he saw there must have convinced him the interview had ended. He motioned to his cameraman and shook hands with Carlos before leaving.
The room door had barely shut behind the television people and Mitch before Sally turned on him.
“Regular reports, Jack? What the hell does that mean?”
Busted.
Carlos moved to her side and hugged her shoulders. “Cool it, Mom. Nana Young showed me photos. Dad didn’t explain yet?”
“Explain what, exactly?”
Jack tightened his grip on Sally. “I started to tell you, but the timing never seemed right or we were interrupted. Besides, my past actions were more about Carlos than you.”
“He’s right, Mom,” Carlos said. “Nana told me she needed to know I was safe. She couldn’t come visit us. Even if Grandfather had let her travel, you wouldn’t have allowed her in the house.”
Sally moved to the side and crossed her arms. “You still haven’t explained your actions, Jack. What reports? What photos? And how long has this been going on?”
“Come on, Mom, you know we were interrupted earlier. Still, I thought he’d have told you at least the basics by now.”
“He hasn’t said a word, and I know we’ve had time to talk.” Her glare made his balls shrink. “I think you’d better leave and let us discuss this.”
Abby grabbed Carlos’s arm and they sprinted for the door, stopping only to snag a room key.
****
Sally turned on her heel to face Jack. “You, or was it your mother hired someone to follow Carlos? Did I infer correctly?”
He nodded slowly, as if looking for a trap. “My mother did, against my father’s express wishes. It was the first time she ever went up against him, even secretly.”
She tapped her foot. “How often? Daily, weekly, monthly, what?”
“The reports? Monthly, at first.”
“For how long? How long did she snoop?”
“Only until he cleared grade school.”
“Baloney, Jack. Carlos made it sound like the reports never stopped. Is that true?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I took over the contract, but the report frequency went to quarterly once I knew—”
“Once you figured I wouldn’t abandon him? Or what, take him off to live in a dirty commune? Or an ashram?”
His face reddened. His hands clenched. “No. Once I knew he’d make it through high school without going off the deep end. Then the reports went to yearly.”
“How could you have someone spy on us?”
“Do you really think I’d walk away from my son? My only child?”
She should have known he wouldn’t, but that wasn’t a fact she’d admit to now. “So all this talk about trust is baloney. You’ve never trusted me. Not really. Would you have violated the divorce agreement? Sure, of course you would have. You waited for me to screw up, didn’t you?”
“True, I didn’t trust you then. Can you blame me? We’ve talked about what happened. Hell, I thought we were past that.”
Her chest hurt. She felt lightheaded and forced air into her lungs.
“This big reunion, pretending you didn’t know how Carlos and I lived, that was for show. All along you had some, some snoop digging through our lives. Low, Jack, really low.”
“Fine, blame this on me. I stuck to our agreement, Sally, long past the time Carlos turned eighteen.” He put his fist on his hip. “And you know what? He wasn’t anywhere near as upset about the investigator as you are. He gets it. He gets that I needed some way to stay in touch. What is so fucking wrong with that?”
“Sounds like stalking to me.”
“Bullshit. I had someone deliver regular reports. I didn’t sit outside your house with binoculars. Big difference.”
“Well, how would you like someone watching your every move when you thought you were living a private life?” She executed a face palm and held up her other hand. “Never mind.” She inhaled through her nose. “Obviously you’re accustomed to rock star notoriety.”
“Don’t. Don’t use my past actions as an excuse to fight with me now. And you know I think fame can suck like a black hole. What’s really going on here, Sally?”
She hugged herself. “Us. Getting back together. It won’t work.”
“Why not?”
His quiet tone didn’t fool her. He was about thirty seconds from exploding. “I don’t fit in this life, Jack, and I never will.”
“This is my last tour. I promise. I’ve already told the guys I’m not going out again. Besides, earlier you said you could get used to the high life. You joked about maiming to get a fancy bathroom, for crap’s sake.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Okay, so that wasn’t the best choice of words. But I want to give you so much, and you throw everything I am back in my face every chance you get. I’m a human being. A guy who loves you. Who walked away, yeah, but who knows better now. Tell me, exactly, why two people who know what life is like without a soul deep love can’t work out a few problems? Give me the fucking time of day, why don’t you.”
She took a deep breath and fought for calm. “Privacy, Jack. It’s not fun to have your life ripped to shreds without warning.”
“You mean like mine when Carlos called out of the blue? After the shock, I embraced the change. That’s what you tell people to do, isn’t it? In your shop?”
She pursed her lips. Damn him for being right.
“What happened to the Sall
y I knew? That Sally was up for adventure, taking charge. She didn’t hide out in fear. Because that whole privacy thing, that’s what I see, an excuse to put up another wall.”
“People with money think they can do anything. Invading my privacy is not something I can easily accept,” she countered. “No, I don’t see keeping my business to myself as putting up freaking walls.” At some level, she knew she lied, but that issue could keep until she had, yes, time alone.
She held up her hand when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say your investigator only followed Carlos. I was in charge of his life, so obviously he reported on me, also.” Jack didn’t speak, giving her a default answer.
“I think we’ve pretty much said enough. I can’t be with you. Please leave me alone while I pack.” She turned on her heel and entered the bedroom. Once the door was shut, she leaned against it and hugged herself.
She’d known she could never be enough for Jack. Getting back with her ex had always been an idea too good to be true.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sally’s jaw dropped. She sat in her car one hundred feet from her store. A large group comprised mostly of men, some with cameras, others with microphones, hung around outside Good Vibes. She doubted they waited for the latest shipment of Nag Champa incense.
She settled herself with a few deep breaths, repressed the urge to drive home, and stepped from the car. She had a business to run.
As she approached, several reporters glanced in her direction, then away. She assumed that they hadn’t yet recognized her with her hair down and wearing normal clothes. Well, normal for her. It wasn’t until she moved to the door, key in hand, that questions came simultaneously.
“Are you Mrs. Jack Reed?”
“Why’d you keep your marriage secret?”
“Do you have any other children you’re hiding? Are they from another rock star?”
“Did you divorce Jack before he got famous or did he ditch you after the band hit?”
“How long has your son owned the coffee house across the street?”
“Did Jack buy the business for him?”
“How much money did Jack pay in child support?”
“Why did he hide you and your son? Is there mental illness in the family?”
“Are you in a threesome with Jack and Glynnis?”
Many other questions had been called out that she hadn’t heard, hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. The lock tumbled, but she didn’t open her door or enter. Instead, she braced herself against the glass and wood, turning to face the group.
“For the record, my name is Sally Ford, not Mrs. Jack Reed. My marriage to Jack was a long time ago and had nothing to do with his rock career. I think the reason neither of us spoke about our marriage to the press is obvious right now, don’t you? I really don’t have anything to add to the statement that has already been issued.”
She turned to enter. One loud question boomed above the rest. “Are you a witch?”
Her hand stilled on the knob. The set of her shoulders, or perhaps her stillness, alerted the group that the inquiry had struck a nerve. They grew quiet. Waited for dirt.
Swiveling, she looked at the crowd. “Who asked that question?”
Sig Daniels raised his hand.
“I should have known.”
He smirked.
“Well, Mr. Daniels, let me educate you. Polytheistic practices are ancient and—”
“I can get that information from Wikipedia. My question was, are you a witch?”
“Right now, I wish I could cast a spell turning you into a mute frog, but unfortunately, I can’t do that.” The reporters laughed. “Pagan practitioners use their energy for good.”
“Nice reply Ms. Ford, but you didn’t answer the question. Are you or aren’t you a witch?” He waved toward the store window, which featured a display on harvesting herbs and native plants for healing. “Sure looks like it to me.”
“Do you need glasses, Mr. Daniels? Herbology is not witchcraft.”
Another reporter called out. “Yeah, but you still haven’t answered, lady.”
“You did it for me. If I’m a lady, I’m not a witch, right?” She pushed open the door behind her. “Now, I have a business to run. As I said earlier, I’m not adding to the published statement. You all are welcome to come in and browse.” She pointed to the card posted on her door that had been hidden by her body. “Long-standing store policy. You don’t need shoes or shirts for service, but no photographs allowed.”
A patrol car slowed to a stop in front of Good Vibes. She waved to the policeman. “Hey, Joe.”
“Morning, Sally. You need any help?”
“No, just a group of excited customers waiting to empty my store of self-help books.”
“I’ll be close by, Sally.” He cast a dark look over the group. “Call if you need me to throw out any trespassers or other trouble makers.”
“Will do, Joe. Thanks.”
He nodded and put his car in gear, moving off at less than five miles per hour.
“Now, gentlemen and ladies, Good Vibes is open for the day.” She paused. “Of course, I know you have more important things to do, like filing stories and following leads. Don’t let me stop you. There’s nothing in my store that you can’t find elsewhere.” She located Daniels and caught his gaze. “Including books on herbs and natural healing.”
At that, she entered and stashed her purse below the counter. Several of the group, including Sig Daniels, followed her and nosed around. The others headed across the street to Carlos’s coffee house. Her hands shook. She hadn’t expected reporters outside her door this early. She eyed the store. Certainly not inside her business.
She could kill Jack if she didn’t miss him like crazy.
****
Carlos walked in to Good Vibes whistling what sounded like the old standard, “Witchcraft.”
“Very funny,” Sally said.
“You’re a witch, I’m a wizard. The news reports said so.”
“A wizard with coffee drinks is a far cry from an older woman being called a witch.”
He pulled her into a hug. “You may have more years than me—”
“That’s a given.”
“But, you’re not old.”
“Good save.” She moved behind her counter. “So, are you ready for your wedding? Nervous? Want to elope, instead?”
He leveled his finger at her. “Not getting out of your commitment that easily, Mom.”
She shrugged. “Worth a try.”
“Do you really hate Dad that much?”
“Oh, sweetie, I don’t hate Jack, only his lifestyle.”
“But he’s not going to tour anymore. You could see the world with him. He’s a great travel companion. Or expand the store. He wouldn’t care as long as you’re together.”
“What are you, his ambassador of goodwill?”
He narrowed his eyes. “What are you, jealous?”
She sighed. “My son, the Doctor of Psychology.”
Carlos wiggled his fingers in a “gimme me” gesture.
“Yes, I’m jealous. Jealous, angry, hurt, confused, and, in love with your father.” The last slipped off her tongue without conscious thought. Not that it was anything Carlos hadn’t already determined for himself. “And frustrated with the reporters for taking photos against my wishes.”
“So what. They take bad photos on purpose. Dad comes off tour on Sunday. You should see his last concert in Washington. He’d send a plane ticket. Hell, he’d send a private jet. What’s stopping you?”
“Are you kidding? You, the recipient of focused media attention? The latest network wonder? You know how I feel about privacy, and you’re wondering why I’m not with Jack?” She huffed. “And ‘last concert?’ ” Really? You believe he’s giving up music?”
“He’s giving up touring, not music. He’ll be making music when I’m a grandfather, I hope. In fact, he told me last night he’s working on a new solo project. Acoustic songs for meditation, or massage,
or something quiet. Can’t tour with those.”
“He’s…what did you say?”
“You heard me. Go to his last concert, Mom. He wants you there.”
“What about you and Abby?”
“We wouldn’t miss it.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “He started his touring career with you, and he wants you in at the end. So put your pride in your back pocket, or better yet, release it to the ethers the way you advise others and agree.”
She wavered. Could she see Jack again without jumping his bones? She’d have to, because she’d told him they were over.
Too bad her love didn’t know how to say good-bye.
****
“She said yes?” Jack breathed for the first time since answering the call from Carlos. “Great, I mean, good, that’s good.”
“Only good? You’re so full of shit, your eyes are brown, Dad.”
“Oh, so genes have nothing to do with it? Glad you told me.”
They discussed the trip and the wedding. Jack hung up. Everything was on track. His plan had to work. He called Mitch to ensure everything was under control.
“Are you serious about this Jack?”
“As the opening horn riff of ‘Sledgehammer.’ ”
“Your family knows what they’re in for, right? No running off in a huff after I send the plane?”
He swallowed his doubt. “They know.”
“Fine. I’ve already got Kathy working out a travel plan.”
“Thanks. Do you also have the press release ready to send out after the last show?”
“One more time, Jack. Are you sure?”
“Sledgehammer.” He rubbed his chest. The words felt like a sledgehammer to his heart.
His manager sighed. “Yeah. I’ll hand out a copy to the band later this afternoon. You know the drill by now.”
“Sure, all copies come back to you for security. Relax, Mitch. The news should give Grant’s son’s band another kick up the ladder. They’re gonna be big.”
“I know.”
“Shit, Mitch. You may as well say, ‘I told you so.’ Or are you waiting to hear me admit getting us out on this tour was the right thing to do?”
“Whatever you want to admit to, man.”
“Ball buster. Fine. You were right. But so am I about no more tours.”
Déjà Vu All Over Again Page 19
