I needed to leave straight away.
Chapter 36
I left later that night. My departure time was actually one in the morning because, of course, there’d been no direct flights. To get to Charleston, West Virginia, in time for Jake's father’s funeral entailed a red-eye and another early morning flight. It was probably just as well. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway.
Although I probably could have done with some sleep, I reflected, as I set off in the rental car I’d picked up from Charleston’s Yeager Airport. I was driving in a strange place and I was lucky if I’d dozed for maybe an hour and a half on the plane. It would be a miracle if I didn’t have an accident. The lack of sleep, combined with my jittery nerves, did not make for smooth driving.
The lady on the GPS repeated her instructions and I obeyed gratefully. The less thinking required, the better. I’d been doing way too much of that. I’d spent the journey swallowing what felt like a ball of panic in my throat. Or maybe guilt was the cause. I’d lied to Lena. She usually went to bed earlier than me and I’d said goodnight as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Half an hour later I’d snuck out the front door to meet the cab I’d called. Except, when I’d arrived at the gate Tim had been waiting with the car engine running and the cab was nowhere in sight. I’d tapped on the window and, to my surprise, when it lowered it revealed Jay behind the wheel.
“Attending a funeral, Bambi?” At my shocked expression, he’d added, “The outfit kind of gives you away.”
I’d patted the black scarf I’d tied over my hair to tame my loose curls and glanced self-consciously at my knee-length, floaty black dress. It was the only thing in my wardrobe that was black and wouldn’t crease during an overnight flight. I’d added the scarf because it gave some flair to the outfit with the benefit of providing something to hide behind if I wanted to arrive at the funeral unnoticed. That, and the classic ensemble was a nod to the style icon Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, who I admired.
“I told the cab to keep going. You should have just asked.”
“I didn’t want Lena to know,” I’d replied sheepishly. “At least not until the morning, anyway.” I was worried she’d try to talk me out of it, and the way I was feeling that wouldn’t have been very hard.
“All you had to do was ask,” he’d repeated. “Get in.”
When I’d settled into the back seat, Jay glanced in the rearview mirror at me. “Where to?”
“The airport,” I’d said, and looked away quickly. I’d been worried he was going to judge me, but I was also too tired to care.
“Figured as much,” he’d said easily, and we set off.
When we’d arrived at the airport, Jay saw me all the way through to the gate. He didn’t say one word about where I was going or ask me when I would be back.
I was obviously becoming accustomed to being chauffeured. Driving alone in West Virginia, I felt desperately lost and out of my depth, despite the GPS lady’s reassuring instructions.
About forty-five minutes after leaving the airport, I saw the gates of the cemetery where Jake’s father was to be buried.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
A handful of cars were parked near the gates. Milling around them were reporters holding microphones, as well as some cameramen.
I slowed the car and considered what to do. Bursting into tears felt like a good option. I was so tired, and I’d come so far, but I hadn’t anticipated the frenzy of media attention that seemed to follow Jake wherever he went.
“Forget about it,” I ordered myself, and the GPS lady announced I was two hundred yards from my destination. “Right on,” I agreed, and put my foot firmly on the accelerator.
I was going to drive right in, that’s what I was going to do. I was going to drive right on by the media like I had every right to be there. So what if they captured a few pictures of me through the windshield? Big deal. I was going to do this. For Jake.
“Oh, shit.”
Or maybe not. I slowed to a stop beside a thin, bald man in a black suit. Goodness. Was I seeing things? If I’d had to cast for the role of death in a movie, this guy would be a good bet. He was sinister, tall and lanky. His skin had a sickly pallor that matched his gray eyes. The poor man looked like he could do with more than one facial to reinvigorate his dry skin. Or maybe some human blood.
He gestured for me to roll down my window.
“Are you here for the Swan funeral?” he asked in a raspy voice barely more than a whisper.
My eyes widened. Maybe he was the recent undead.
“Yes,” I said, then tried not to cringe when he held up a folder with what appeared to be a list of names on it.
“Name?”
“See, here’s the thing,” I began, but hesitated when he lowered the folder and fixed me with that eerie gray gaze. “I’m Allegra Valenti. Jacob Swan’s girlfriend. He’s not expecting me because I didn’t think I could get flights but I managed to at the last minute. I’ve flown all night from LA to be here for him.” To make my point I removed my sunglasses to reveal the dark under-eye circles that rivaled his.
I flinched when I heard cameras go off and quickly put them back on. “So can you please just let me through?”
The man pointed to a spot to the left inside the gate. “Wait there and don’t move.”
I nodded and put my window back up, eager to have something between me and the cameras, even if it was glass. I drove to the spot he’d indicated and waited.
And waited.
Once again, I hadn’t thought this far ahead. I thrummed my fingers on the steering wheel. Actually, I’d pictured myself slipping unnoticed into the back of the service, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen now. Maybe this wasn’t the right place at all. Maybe I’d unwittingly entered the underworld and undead guy was gathering his equally undead friends and I was dinner.
My phone beeped and I jumped in my seat. Heart hammering, I pulled it from the holder on the dash.
Ally? There’s a man saying you’re here for my father’s funeral?
I closed my eyes for a brief second, relief pulsing through me. It was the first contact I’d had with Jake in two days and he’d been gone over a week. I hit reply.
Yes. I’m here. Now would you please tell the scary man to let me in?
I sat and waited for a response. After two minutes there was still no reply. Oh dear. Scary man wasn’t a relative of his, was he? Maybe I shouldn’t have been so cocky, but I was trying so hard to pretend like everything was normal and that it was completely natural that I would be attending his father’s funeral.
After five minutes I still sat numbly in the car. The earlier trepidation that had been making my movements jerky and awkward was gone. In its place a heavy resignation settled over me. I forced myself to reach for the keys in the ignition then squealed when someone rapped on the window.
“You can go in,” the scary man informed me. “Park further up on your left, you’ll see where when you go in. The service is in the tent. And give me your phone.”
“My phone?”
“Yes.”
I stopped myself from retorting that I hadn’t planned on taking happy snaps and handed it to him.
I drove into the cemetery slowly and almost laughed at my consideration. Everyone was dead. My smile faded. Jake’s father was dead. I parked the car and put my hands to my mouth, an involuntary sob escaping.
The last funeral I had attended had been my father’s. It hadn’t even occurred to me, not once in undertaking this crazy journey, that it would bring all the grief to the surface again.
I rested my head in my hands and didn’t try to resist as the memories washed over me. Mama trying not to sob but failing when the casket was lowered into the ground, her sisters surrounding us protectively. I hadn’t even realized tears were streaming down my cheeks until one of my aunts had handed me a tissue.
“Oh, Papa,” I whispered. “I miss you.”
And now Jake was burying his father.
I inhaled a shaky breath and tried to pull myself together. I was here for Jake. He’d lost his mother and now his father. He’d said he wasn’t close to his dad, but it still didn’t ease the ache in my heart for him.
I squealed again when someone opened the door.
“Ally? What on earth are you doing here?”
I stared at Jake. He was exquisitely dressed in one of the suits he’d probably thrown on effortlessly after rolling out of bed, but the dark shadows under his eyes mirrored my own. There was something different about him too, I realized. His face looked pinched, drawn, and waves of unease rolled off him.
I climbed out of the car and rounded my shoulders. “I’m here to attend your father’s funeral with you.”
“You shouldn’t be here—”
“I’m here, Jake. Unless you want me to leave?”
“No,” he replied quickly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I don’t really want to have to drive past the photographers again by myself, and the man on the gate was giving me the creeps. He’s not a relative of yours, is he?”
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
“Family resemblance,” I said, my face deadpan. When Jake didn’t even smile, I shrugged. “I’m joking. Graveyard humor.”
Jake’s features contorted into an expression somewhere between disbelief and amusement, and he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve missed you,” he said roughly.
“You’d miss me less if you called me.”
When he opened his mouth to respond, I held up a hand. “Later. Right now we have a funeral to get through.”
Chapter 37
The funeral gathering was smaller than I expected.
When we entered the tent, which had been erected to afford the attendees some privacy from prying eyes (or cameras), Jake pulled me to one side.
“You should know that Faith—”
“Is here,” I finished for him. “Yes, I know. Your coffee date in New York made headlines.”
His blue eyes widened and I noticed for the first time they were bloodshot. Whether it was from crying, lack of sleep or alcohol, I didn’t know. He looked away and swore. “Ally—”
“It’s OK, Jake. It was all lies. You’re just friends.” Until that moment, I hadn’t been one hundred percent sure, but I was now. The shock, the realization, the multitude of emotions that flickered across his face when I told him cast my doubts away instantly. But mostly it was the concern. I could see it written in the creases in his forehead and in the fine lines around his eyes. His concern for me was etched into him and I knew that had to count for something.
Not that I wouldn’t put it past Faith to still have feelings for him, but I couldn’t have cared less about Faith’s feelings.
“You made it.”
I stiffened at the low, feminine drawl and turned. Speak of the devil. “I made it.”
Faith tilted her head thoughtfully at me. Funeral attire suited her, damn her. She wore a fitted knee-length black dress and her dark hair was up in a French knot or some other elaborate hairdo I’d have no hope of doing myself. The outfit was more like something a businesswoman would wear. Then again, if she wasn’t an actress I could just imagine her taking over corporations.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said.
“You are?” My emotions—or, more accurately, my big brown eyes—betrayed me.
A smile touched her lips. “Yes. I’m not very good at comforting people.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing?” Jake asked, a hint of his normal self returning to his voice.
Faith’s dark eyes glimmered. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
I turned back to Jake. “You weren’t going to come?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw and a look of understanding passed between him and Faith. “I wasn’t sure, no.”
“But I was there when he took the call,” Faith said.
“Having coffee,” I added helpfully before I could stop myself.
Faith’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, Christ. Don’t tell me we made the news?”
“You made the news,” I told her.
“So, let me guess, now I’m the other woman?” She shot Jake a nasty look. “Thanks a lot. You know how I hate being the other woman.”
“You play it so well,” Jake said.
“Careful, Swan, you don’t want me to make a scene.”
“Actually, it’s probably my turn to make a scene,” I offered. “I’m fairly sure I’m the one considered the other woman.”
“Like hell you are,” Faith replied. “I don’t want him. He’s all yours.”
“He is?” I hadn’t meant for it to sound so hopeful.
To my shock, Faith reached over and rubbed my arm briskly. “He’s too needy. I can’t stand needy men.”
I dared a look at Jake and a frisson of acknowledgment passed between us. I blushed bright red and dropped my gaze.
Faith snorted. “I really don’t want to know. And by the way, Ally, don’t believe anything you read.”
“Nothing?”
“Not a word. I’ve been in this industry a long time and had some crazy shit written about me. If you’re ever in doubt, run it past me first. I’ll straighten you out.”
“So, why were you in New York?” I asked, then wished I had kept my mouth shut. I was at a funeral, I reminded myself. Now wasn’t the time.
Faith appeared unworried. “Same reason as Jake, it turns out.”
I stared at her in surprise. “You’re auditioning for Broadway?”
“When you’re as seasoned as I am you don’t audition. You talk to people. I was talking to people.”
“Including Jake,” I stated.
“Yeah. We met for coffee.” She grinned, dazzling me. “But you already knew that. I was trying to convince him not to wimp out this time.”
“This time?” I was lost.
“Yes. I’m so glad you talked him into going. I’ve been trying to convince him to do this for years.”
“Really?”
“Yep, he’s a doubter, this guy. Not that he doesn’t have his reasons, but it’s about time he branched out and stopped stagnating. I guess I have you to thank for that.”
“You do?” I was aware it sounded like I couldn’t hold a conversation.
“I’ve got to admit I wasn’t too sure about you at first. Too much bravado. You talk tough, but I recognize insecurity when I see it. Jake doesn’t need insecure. Then I saw your work and realized it’s not insecurity. You just haven’t had the chance to shine.” She glanced across at Jake. “Like someone else we know. I think you’re good for each other,” she concluded.
I blinked a few times and tried to say something but couldn’t formulate a reply. I was saved from complete embarrassment when the pastor signaled it was time to start the service.
Jake threaded his fingers through mine and bent down to whisper in my ear. “I told you to trust Faith.”
I nodded, still speechless. His proximity, his familiar scent, Faith’s upfront assessment—all of it had thrown me off balance.
He tugged my hand and led me around the back of the tent. As the pastor’s words silenced us, I saw that Jake had deliberately positioned us apart from the rest of his family. I had a fair idea who his brothers were. They towered above everyone else and stood in a line at the very front. All well-built, all with varying shades of golden hair. I couldn’t see their eyes because they were facing forward, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were blue as well.
Jake was still holding my hand. In fact, he was gripping it so tight my palm ached. A pang of sympathy was quelled immediately at the memory of the words I’d read on the internet the day before, which had become imprinted in my mind.
“Come on,” I whispered and pulled him forward.
Jake blinked and started to shake his head, but I shot him a filthy look. It was enough to make him hesitate, and that was all the diversion I needed to drag him closer to t
he front.
“Ally,” he hissed, more out of alarm than anger.
I ignored him and kept weaving our way through the crowd, my hand like a vice grip.
Then we stopped. He’d planted his feet firmly on the ground and we just stopped. I was actually surprised we’d made it that far. Physically I was no match for Jacob Swan.
“No,” he said. His voice was so low I could barely hear him.
“Yes.” I tugged on his hand but we didn’t move. “Don’t make me tackle you, pretty boy,” I whispered.
“No, Ally. I can’t. You don’t understand—”
“Oh, yes, I do. I understand perfectly. And I’m not having a bar of it.”
Recognition sparked in his face and in that moment I saw that he knew that I knew, but that only spurred me on. With all the strength I could muster—which was pretty difficult considering my high heels—I dragged him forward again.
“Ally!”
His anguished cry silenced the congregation. I didn’t see so much as felt everyone looking at us. I was too busy watching Jake. I wasn’t breaking eye contact. If he was going to make it to the front of the tent he’d need my absolute focus.
He twisted to look behind him—the last hope of a desperate man searching for his escape—and came face-to-face with Faith. She stood with arms crossed and her expression broached no argument.
“Go on, Swan. You heard her.”
He turned back to me and closed his eyes briefly. I wasn’t sure if he was saying a silent prayer or just steeling himself for what was to come, but I gave him that moment.
Then he was walking toward the front of the tent with me and I wasn’t pulling him along anymore. His steps were sure and steady. Determined.
When we arrived together at the front we came to stand beside one of his brothers. Jake looked straight ahead, making no attempt at eye contact. I wasn’t that shy. I turned to study the rest of his family curiously.
Heartthrob (Hollywood Hearts, #1) Page 26
