by Zoey Derrick
“A say in what?” Livia asks as she enters my office.
“Liam tells me that you have a degree in marketing?” I ask her.
“Pfft, I do, but I’m not sure it was the right choice of degrees.”
“Why do you say that?”
She laughs, “Because I’m not that creative. Ireland got those genes. We graduated together. Though she went into advertising, I just hung out.”
“Well, I may have a solution for you for work while on tour.”
“Oh? Doing what?” She perks up a little and comes to stand behind the couch where Liam is sitting.
“Marketing,” I smirk.
She groans, “Don’t you already have people for that?”
I chuckle, “I do, but that would mean she’d have to go on tour with me.”
Livia pales. “She?”
“You met her at Cami’s party.”
She scowls at me so I elaborate, “Raine, Dex Harris’s girlfriend.”
“No way? She’s your marketing person?”
“Well, she’s more of a public relations person. She handles the press, the news, more or less my image. But she’s also responsible for a good part of my social media and things like that.”
“She sounds like an assistant,” Livia counters.
“Well, she handles all that because I don’t have an assistant. I don’t have someone to handle things like social media or whatever else I would need.”
“Then who does it?” she asks.
“I do.”
“So what, you’d want me to get you coffee and shit?” she says, skeptical.
“If that would make you happy, sure. But I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of getting my own coffee. But it would be nice to have someone who helps me with my schedule, helps keep me on track and on time, and then fills in the blanks with answering emails and dealing with things like social media.”
“Doesn’t Liam keep you on time?” She looks at the top of his head and he turns to her to answer.
“Aye, lass, but I can only keep him on time with the schedule he gives me. I don’t schedule his appointments, nor do I make sure he’s not double booking himself. He handles all that and I assure you, it’s a mess,” Liam teases with a wink at me.
“I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Would you want to?”
“As long as you promise to keep me busy, and you’re not a dick, then yes, I’ll do it.”
“Oh, I’ll keep you busy alright.” I wiggle an eyebrow at her.
“Fiend,” she teases with a laugh.
Liam stands from the couch and moves to leave. “That’s my cue, lady and gent.”
Livia and I both laugh, and Liam leaves us to it.
Chapter Twenty
Preparing to leave.
BRYAN
“We have no choice.”
“I know, I just, this isn’t going to be easy to discuss with her.”
“What isn’t easy to discuss?” Livia asks as she enters my office. It’s been a little more than a week since I offered Livia a job, and in that time, she’s taken on a lot and seems to be enjoying it.
“Sit down, lass.”
“Uh, okay? Something wrong?”
She looks at me with worry in her eyes and I hate what I’m about to tell her. “We have to go to New York.”
“So go.”
“But you need to come with me.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” she counters.
“Maybe this isn’t the best way to start this conversation,” Liam offers. “Livia, Bryan has some business to attend to in New York. This includes the tour kick off, among other things.”
“I can’t go back there,” she breathes.
“I understand, but as I’ve said a million times before, you will be perfectly safe,” Liam tells her.
“You can’t know that,” she argues.
“You’re right, we don’t know that, but there is nothing to fear,” I add, trying to be reassuring.
“There is also another reason I need you in New York,” Liam adds. This is about the conversation we had a couple weeks ago and it’s still not one I’m prepared to have. Livia and I have been living in this perfect, happy, little bubble that we built together, but that bubble is about to burst, and I’m not ready for that.
“There isn’t a reason good enough to get me back in that state, let alone that damn city.”
“A new identity.”
“What?” she breathes, looking up at Liam.
Liam sighs as he sits on the other couch next to her. He looks her square in the eye and doesn’t hold back from what he tells her. “You’ve said it before. You hate the name Becca, do you not?” She nods in response. “What if we could give you back a name similar to what you’re used to. Something that wouldn’t be so far from the truth if Bryan, or myself, call you Livia, then no one will think twice about it.”
“What about my friends? They won’t understand.”
“I’ve taken care of most of that. Ireland already knows Becca is not your real name. She also knows that Livia is your real name, does she not?”
“She does,” Livia says with hesitation.
“Then who else is there?” Liam asks.
Livia doesn’t respond right away, but reality washes over her features. “No one, I guess. Well, the people who saw Bryan and me together at the party. I was introduced as Becca.”
“There are two relatively simple explanations,” I add. “The first being, Cami and Tristan know you as a bar patron, and although they know you as Becca, that doesn’t mean giving them a different name will mean much to them. Second, the majority of those in attendance that night meet hundreds, if not thousands, of people, so remembering your name isn’t going to be easy for them. Lastly, for all they know, Becca could be a nickname. A middle name…”
“And what, I just decided to start going by my first name again?”
“Or a middle,” Liam interjects.
She looks confused as she switches between looking at Liam then at me. “Why do you want to cover up my name so bad?”
I sigh. “I don’t. This is all Liam’s doing. But from a PR standpoint, your past could paint a rather unflattering picture about the person you are or were. Do you want reporters digging up your past?”
“This is your chance to lose the prostitute label forever,” Liam reminds her.
The bluntness of his response takes me by surprise and I scowl at him.
“You’ve said it yourself. You turned to Becca because you were tired of that lifestyle but when you found things to be too rough, you turned back to your old ways. Neither one of us fault you for that, Livia.” I nod my head in agreement with what Liam is saying. “Neither one of us will ever hold your past against you or over your head. This would give you the chance to rid yourself of that past forever. No arrest records, no one seeing your name in the papers and coming forward about paying you for sex. This would eradicate that life altogether. Give you the fresh start you want.”
“And save Bryan from a PR nightmare,” she murmurs. I can tell by her slouched posture she’s feeling embarrassed right now and I don’t like it. I switch to her couch, sitting next to her.
“I am not ashamed of your past. It is who you are. It’s what brought you to me. I will never be ashamed of that. I want you to do this so you can be happy with yourself. So you can finally feel like that part of your life is in the past.” I take a deep breath and continue, “You deserve to move on with your life and this is a way to do that.” I take her hands in mine and force her to look at me. “I want you to be able to hold your head high and know that nothing from your past can ever harm you again.”
“How can you be so sure they won’t find out about my aliases? Reporters have a way of doing things like that,” she questions.
“Declan is very good at what he does. Livia Fazio is dead and Becca Carpenter will just disappear. You have an advantage that many people in your situation often don’t have.
You have no family, Livia.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” she scoffs.
“I’m sorry, it wasn’t meant that way,” Liam apologizes. “But it’s true. You also only have a limited number of friends who know your past.”
She sighs, “I don’t know if Ireland will understand the change.”
I smile. “You’d be surprised, and not only that, but we could easily change your name to something like Olivia, making Livi and Livia easy nicknames. We could use Olivia as a middle name.”
“The possibilities are endless,” Liam adds.
“I want Livia back.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, but there’s conviction in her words.
“Then we will do everything we can to get back as much of your original name as possible,” I tell her. “What’s your middle name?”
She snorts a laugh. “That is so not happening,” she tells me with the first smile I’ve seen since Liam started talking.
“Meadow,” Liam declares with a smirk and she glares at him.
“Traitor.”
The three of us laugh. “Meadow? Really?” I ask, incredulous.
“Italian, remember?” she teases back.
“Isn’t that the name of one of the wives or kids or something on that Italian mob show?” I say, jokingly.
“Wouldn’t surprise me. It was a popular Italian name in the nineties,” Liam adds.
The tension of the identity discussion seems to have vanished, if only for a minute. “So, why do I have to go to New York to do this?” she asks Liam.
“Because Declan needs to update prints, photographs and DNA records. The prints we already have, but fresh ones will be better and they don’t have DNA for you. It wasn’t exactly available when they gave you your first identity. It will ensure Declan can give you a solid background and history that, when verified, can be addressed by you publicly,” Liam explains.
“Why can’t I send him all this stuff?” she asks.
“Trust me. It will be easier to do it this way,” Liam tells her.
She doesn’t say anything for a few moments and I silence Liam. I want her to have time to mull this over in her mind. Only she can make this decision. It’s not an easy one for her to make and I don’t want to pressure her into it.
“Alright,” she finally speaks. “I’ll do it, I’ll go.”
“I’ll make the arrangements.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be my job?” she retorts.
I smile at her. “It is, but I’ll handle this one.” I wink at her, then cup her face between my hands and pull her close to me. “Thank you,” I breathe.
“I just want to put my past behind me. If this is the only way to do it, I’ll do it,” she whispers back and I slant my lips over hers. Her lips against mine spark desire and my cock hardens.
“Good, we leave day after tomorrow,” Liam says, interrupting my kissing of Livia and I smile against her lips as I glare at him. He puts his hands up in mock defense. “Now, the real question, commercial or private?”
I shake my head and release Livia from my grasp. “You’re the worst cock-blocker ever,” I laugh. Livia blushes. “She’s going under one name and coming back under another. I would say private.”
“Aren’t we leaving on the bus?” she asks.
“No, not from New York. It’s just the tour launch. There are several radio and television spots scheduled while we’re there. When it’s done, we come home for a couple days. The bus leaves from here.”
“Here as in Nashville, or here as in the house?”
I smile. “The house. The house is monitored twenty-four seven, so we let the crew park here. It’s just easier.”
“How many people are we talking?”
Her questions make me smile. She’s not dwelling on New York and I like that, though I get the feeling we have a rough forty-eight hours before we take off. “There are five band members, plus an additional six on the set up crew. There are three buses total. One is mine, then there is a band bus and a crew bus.”
“That seems like a lot of wasted gas,” she mutters.
I laugh, “It is, but there are also security guys. Liam stays on my bus with me, and there are four more that travel with us. There are two on each bus, making the space crowded enough as it is.”
“I never thought you actually traveled the country on a bus. I just thought you flew everywhere.”
“I do that too,” I tell her. “When there are long breaks between shows, I fly home and fly back, but this is a tighter packed tour so trips home will be minimal.”
“I have no idea how to even pack for something like this.”
Liam chuckles, “Trust me, lass, it’s not easy, but having our own bus gives us some latitude.”
“I don’t have enough clothes for three months of traveling.” There is sadness in her voice and her eyes are looking up at the ceiling as if she’s trying to calculate something.
“What about back home?”
“Uh, no. I brought the majority of what I had there with me.” She hesitates, “When I left Phoenix, I broke my lease, stored some stuff and brought everything else with me.”
“You don’t have anything here,” Liam chimes in.
Livia shrugs. “I didn’t have anything there either.” She sighs. “I gave up on material possessions a long time ago.” She starts to fidget with her hands and as she looks at them, she continues, “I was afraid of having to pack up and run. I didn’t want to have to choose between what I wanted and what I needed. So I never let myself get too attached to anything. I always kept my music on my mp3 player, my address book in my phone and backed up to my computer, and I don’t own any jewelry, and that basically left clothes.”
“So then why did you break your lease?” Liam asks her. I was curious about that too.
She lets out a slow breath. “I never planned on going back to Phoenix. If this didn’t work out, I’d planned on running again. I told you this that first night.”
“Well, I’m glad it worked out,” I say. “I’d hate to think of never seeing you again.”
She looks at me with wide eyes. “That won’t happen now. I’m tired of running. Maybe going back to New York will be a good thing. Maybe I can finally put the past to rest. I’ve never even seen my father’s grave. I haven’t been to my mother’s since the Christmas before I was taken. I don’t know why, but I feel like I need to see them all of a sudden.”
“We’ll make it happen,” Liam says. “You’ve also got a storage unit to deal with, and then there is the matter of the life insurance…”
“I haven’t decided if I want it.”
“Which?” I ask for clarification.
“Either,” she breathes.
“Why not?” Liam asks. “The money is yours. All I did was put it in an account for you. The stuff in storage is because I think you may find some things in there you want to keep.”
She shakes her head. “No, anything from that house will only remind me of what life was like before Ricci got ahold of me.”
“But it’s all a part of who you are,” I remind her.
Her eyes meet mine, “I know, but that part of me is so far removed from who I am now that I don’t see the point in dredging it up.” She turns to Liam. “I appreciate you saving it, really I do, and I’ll pay you back for the storage fees…”
“No, lass. I set that storage unit up so when I found you again you’d have a piece of home. I kept it going even when I wasn’t sure you were still alive. But if you honestly feel that stuff is unimportant, I will have it cleaned out.”
She nods. “I don’t think I want it.”
“You don’t have to decide right now,” I tell her. “We have time and once you’re back in New York, you might feel differently about it. Regardless of the circumstances, your father died and he left something for you. I think you need to take the money.”
“I don’t even know how to handle that kind of money,” she says.
Both Liam and I smile at her. “We’l
l help you,” Liam tells her.
She nods and my heart swells at the acceptance she appears to have for all things pertaining to her father and her past. In the back of mind, I am worried we’ve not yet reached the peak of this issue. She’s buried and denied so much for so long.
Livia is an amazingly strong woman and I commend her for being that way, but there is something under the surface and I’m afraid of what it is and what will happen when it comes out.
Regardless, I’m not going anywhere.
I’m not sure at what point it happened, but the idea of losing Livia scares the hell out of me. If she were to walk away from me, I’d never recover. Sometime over the last month, I’ve fallen head over heels in love with her. Now it’s time to show her what real love looks like.
LIVIA
“Dad,” I call into the house as I return home from school.
“In here, baby girl.”
I go toward the sound of his voice coming from his room. “Dad, what are you doing in the closet?” I ask him.
He puts something up on the top shelf, a box. “What’s that?” I ask.
“It’s nothing, baby, just some of daddy’s stuff. How was school?”
“It was good. I got my math test back,” I tell him with excitement.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Well, are you going to keep me in suspense forever?”
I laugh, “No.” I take the folded papers from my pocket, looking down at the bright red A at the top and I turn it around.
“Only an A?” he teases me.
“Seriously, dad?”
He steps off the step ladder he was on and wraps me in his arms. “That’s a great way to start Christmas break.”
“I thought so,” I say as I pull away from our hug. He reluctantly lets me go.
“I’ll go get dinner started.” He smiles and leaves the room. My eyes drift to the box on the top shelf.
For some strange reason, he seemed nervous that I caught him and I can’t help wondering what’s really in that box.
The box slips my mind as Christmas comes and goes and before I know it, the New Year is here and I return to school. The first day back was boring, as usual. Nothing exciting happened because teachers were still on vacation hangover.
