by A. P. Jensen
Never had a girl like you
You look at me and I can do anything
You believe in my dreams
Nothing can break us apart
Will you be my girl?
Demi, stay with me
Be my everything
The lyrics lanced her chest. With all that happened today, this was the last straw. Demi couldn’t stop the tears that surged to the surface. She stared at Johnny’s face, so familiar and yet… not. Lyrics she never thought she’d hear again were now being heard by thousands of strangers. She took a step back and tried to compose herself. Johnny followed, his voice wrapping her up in a caress of bittersweet torture. Memories of all they’d once been filled the air between them. Johnny sang her song and remembered every word, every chord.
When the song ended, a tear trickled down her cheek. She wasn’t aware of the crowd, the lights or the stage crew hissing from the sidelines. It was just her and Johnny.
“Why?” Demi’s tortured whisper echoed through the stadium.
The crowd was strangely quiet and hearing her voice blast from the speakers broke the spell the song wove around her. She looked out at the stadium and gave Johnny a killing glance before she stalked off stage. She was immediately surrounded by a group of people behind the scenes. She was an emotional wreck and wiped away her tears with shaking hands.
“How do I get out of here?” she demanded.
A man with slick hair stepped forward with his hand extended. “I’m Paul. We need to talk.”
She gave him a distracted look and didn’t take his hand. “I don’t think so.”
“Take her to my dressing room.”
Demi whirled and saw Johnny behind her. She could hear the furious whispers in the stadium as they stared at the empty stage. Johnny wasn’t looking at her. He was addressing the man named Paul.
“I don’t think so!” Demi snapped.
“She better be here when the show’s over,” Johnny ordered and walked back on stage.
There was a moment of shocked silence from the backstage crew. Paul gave her an insulting perusal that made her temper skyrocket. It was obvious he was trying to figure out why Johnny targeted her over the other women in the crowd who were more attractive and receptive.
“We have to figure out how we’re going to spin this,” Paul said.
“Spin what?”
“I’m Johnny’s manager. It’s my job to make sure this is handled well.”
“This conversation is done,” Demi said and tried to walk around him, but he blocked her path. Demi looked around for help, but the stage crew was focused once more on Johnny and talking feverishly into their headsets. No one was paying attention to her. She was about to make a run for it when a woman in flip-flops and sweats ran forward, hair mussed and face free of makeup. She grasped both of Demi’s hands in hers and squeezed.
“Oh, you have to tell me everything!” she gushed.
Sidetracked and starstruck, Demi whispered, “Gwen Harper Phoenix.”
Gwen grinned and tugged on her hand. “I sure am. And you’re Demi.”
“How do you know my name?” Demi asked stupidly.
“Johnny just announced it to the world,” Gwen said smugly.
At that, Demi snapped out of her daze and half turned to scowl at Johnny who was rocking the stadium. Arrogant, thoughtless asshole, she thought. Gwen put an arm around Demi’s waist and eyed Paul.
“I’ll take care of Demi,” Gwen said firmly.
“But Johnny told me to take her to his dressing room,” Paul said, “and I need to know what she’s going to tell the media.”
“I’m not going to tell the media anything,” Demi said hotly.
“You hear that, Paul? It’s all taken care of,” Gwen said and led Demi away from him.
The woman beside her bore almost no resemblance to the singer who performed half an hour ago. Gwen was petite and fit perfectly beneath Demi’s shoulder.
“Paul’s jaded. He wouldn’t know what’s honest and genuine if it cried on his chest.”
“Uh, thanks,” Demi said and still in shock added, “You change fast.”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “After a performance, I practically collapse. Tonight wasn’t too bad since it was just one song. I have terrible stage fright.”
“You have stage fright?” Demi asked dubiously.
“Yeah.” Gwen directed them away from the pounding music. “So, is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“Were you Johnny’s first?”
“I doubt it.” How had she gotten herself into this mess? Was she really talking about Johnny to Gwen Harper Phoenix? Her world was spinning out of control.
“That song was beautiful,” Gwen said.
Demi remembered the first time Johnny sang it to her. He sat on her bed, hair a rumpled mess and tapped his foot for rhythm. It was a perfect memory now ruined by Johnny sharing her song with the world. She cried on stage like a fool. She couldn’t even begin to understand why he did it.
“He wrote it for me a long time ago,” Demi muttered and hoped they were close to an exit.
Gwen yanked Demi into a dressing room where a massive TV played Johnny’s concert live.
“I really have to go,” Demi began when a man rose from the couch. Demi blinked and whispered, “Trey Phoenix?”
“I got her!” Gwen exclaimed and ushered Demi forward like a present.
Trey Phoenix, country superstar and Gwen’s husband smiled warmly at Demi who nearly tripped over her own feet. Trey had beautiful blue eyes, a five o’clock shadow and was all around yummy. Gwen shoved a champagne glass into Demi’s hand and pushed her onto a plush couch. Demi’s eyes moved from Gwen who pattered around the room in her sweats to Trey Phoenix who eyed her with a thoughtful expression.
“As soon as Johnny started pushing through the audience to catch you, I knew something was up,” Gwen said excitedly and settled beside her. “And then he brought you on stage and sang that song. It was… wow.”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Demi said and since the glass was in her hand, took a sip of champagne.
Gwen cocked her head to the side. “So, you didn’t plan on seeing him tonight?”
“No!” If she’d known this would happen, she would have avoided the concert at all costs. So much for finding closure and being unaffected by him. “I just wanted to see him live, just once. I didn’t expect him to walk through the crowd or see me! I can’t believe he freaking pulled me on stage… He’s insane!”
Gwen seemed fascinated by Demi’s outburst. Demi was too worked up to sit. She got up, downed the rest of the champagne and shot a bad tempered glance at the TV screen, which showed Johnny saluting the crowd.
“I really need to go,” Demi said and turned towards the door.
Gwen plastered herself over the exit. “You have to stay!”
“Why?” Demi’s star struck state began to wane. She was beginning to feel trapped.
“I’ve never seen him like this,” Gwen said and there was an imploring note in her voice.
“Like what? Accosting women and announcing his past history with them to the world?”
“Exactly!”
“I don’t understand why you’re so happy about what happened. He embarrassed me in front of thousands of people!”
“Johnny’s never snapped out of character during a show. Bringing a fan on stage is part of his act, but with you he was different.”
“Bringing women on stage is part of the show?” Demi asked and began to feel ill.
“He sings to them, brushes back their hair, makes them blush. You know,” Gwen waved her hand dismissively, “he’s Johnny Bentley.”
“I need to get out of here. Nice meeting you.” Demi tried to shush Gwen to the side, but the smaller woman wouldn’t budge. Demi could pick Gwen up and bodily set her aside, but she didn’t want to hurt her. Demi glared at Gwen who grinned back.
“You and Johnny have bad history?” Trey asked, coming up behind her.
Demi turned to Trey, hoping to appeal to a rational human being. “Yes, I want to leave. It’s been a long day.”
“What happened?” Gwen asked.
Demi rubbed her forehead with a trembling hand. “It’s a long story.”
“You still live in New York?”
“Yes, but I’m on my way out, actually.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m moving out of the city.” This incident with Johnny proved it was time for her to get the hell out of here. She needed to start over in a new place where she didn’t know a soul.
“Where you headed?” Trey asked.
Reality came crashing down around her. The enormity of what she was about to do hit her like a two by four. “I-I’m not sure yet.”
Gwen grasped Demi’s clammy hands and squeezed. “You all right?”
Demi took a shaky breath. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”
“Come on.” Trey put an arm around Demi’s shoulders and led her back to the couch. He got her another champagne.
“What’s going on?” Gwen asked Demi who swirled the champagne in her glass.
“I walked out on my fiancé,” Demi said in a flat voice.
“When?”
“This afternoon.” Demi downed the champagne in one gulp. She liked the fact that her emotions were distant and fuzzy now.
“Oh, honey.” Gwen rubbed her thigh. “Is that why you’re leaving New York?”
“There’s nothing holding me here. No family, no job, no man.” Demi leaned back because she was suddenly so damn tired.
“You lost your job?” Trey pushed.
“I got booted.” Demi suddenly had another glass of champagne in her hand so she downed that one too.
“So, you lost your job and broke up with someone,” Gwen said carefully, “and now you want to move out of New York?”
“I need to start fresh. We were living together. I walked away with what I have on me.” Demi gestured to her pencil skirt, blouse and her purse. “Don’t want anything else.”
“What’s your plan?” Gwen asked.
“I was going to buy a car and drive. I want to settle in a small town. Always wanted to live in one. You know, where everybody knows everybody and they live in houses, not apartments or condos? I just need to take a breath, you know? I feel like I’ve had a twenty pound weight on my chest for the past year.”
There was a long silence and though she was tipsy, Demi remembered where she was and with who. She snapped her mouth shut and looked at Gwen and Trey who were in the middle of some kind of silent telepathic communication.
“I’m sorry,” Demi said and fluttered her hands. “I should go.”
“I have a better idea,” Gwen announced. “You should come with us!”
Demi said nothing for a whole minute as she waited for the punchline. “Excuse me?”
“We’re going to my hometown, White Mist. It’s in Montana,” Gwen said with an infectious grin. “You want to live in a small town where everybody knows everybody? White Mist is for you. It’s near the mountains and the nearest town is an hour away.”
“You’d take me to White Mist with you?” Demi asked uncertainly.
“Of course!” Gwen elbowed Trey. “It’s all right, right, honey?”
“You’re in a bind,” Trey said easily. “Everybody deserves a fresh start. If you’re sure about leaving and you won’t have second thoughts, you can fly with us. Not a big deal. We have a private plane.”
“I, uh,” Demi stammered, trying to think of one reason why she shouldn’t do this.
“You don’t have to buy a car,” Gwen said, easily reading her hesitation. “You don’t even have to buy a ticket. If you don’t like it there, you can always leave. At least this way I can show you around. What do you say?”
Demi thought of leaving Madison Square Garden and walking down the sidewalk with no destination in mind. She could check into a hotel, crash there for a day or two and make a plan or she could take the hand outstretched towards her. Maybe it was the champagne or the fact that she could hear Johnny saying his farewells to the crowd that made her say, “I think that sounds good.”
“Awesome. We were headed to the plane anyway. Ready, Trey?”
Trey nodded, grasped Demi’s hand and pulled her up. She squeezed his hand when her head began to swim. Trey handed her a handful of crackers and she put one in her mouth and began to chew.
“This is gonna be fun,” Trey said.
Demi blinked blearily. “Why?”
“Johnny’s had this coming for a long time.”
Demi frowned. “What does Johnny have to do with this?”
A mature woman with an unlit cigarette and tangerine heels walked into the room. Demi wanted to peg her at mid forties, but it was hard to tell since her makeup was done with a master’s hand.
“Plane is ready, boss,” the woman said to Trey and then eyed Demi. “That was some act you did up there. Did Paul pay you? The tears were a bit of an overkill, don’t you think?”
Demi knew she should probably defend herself, but she couldn’t find the will to care.
The woman moved the unlit cigarette from one side of her mouth to the other. “Your name is gonna be splashed all over the internet tonight. Brace yourself for the media storm, girl.”
Demi waved a hand. “Been in the papers before. It’ll pass.”
“Angie, stop poking at her,” Gwen ordered and then murmured to Demi, “she’s Trey’s manager slash mom.”
“Let’s hit it, girls,” Trey said.
Trey put an arm around Demi and ignored the way she jolted at his touch. Gwen gave the dressing room a quick sweep of her eyes before she followed. When they walked outside, Demi wasn’t prepared for the group of paparazzi waiting for them. Trey used his body to shield Demi from most of the cameras as he hustled her to the car.
“Why were you in the papers before?” Gwen asked as the SUV pulled away from Madison Square Garden.
“My parents had money,” Demi said and lay her head against the window.
She didn’t elaborate and Gwen didn’t pry. Trey and Gwen talked in low tones as the driver headed through New York City traffic. The only home she’d ever known passed by in a blur of lights and noise. The cautious part of Demi urged her to reconsider, take her time and plan. The new, do-what-the-fuck-you-want part of her said to go with the flow. So what if she was in a car with two celebrities she’d known for fifteen minutes? She planned her whole life and it was in the toilet. Fate was gonna do what she wanted no matter how careful Demi was. She learned that the hard way. The first impulsive thing she’d done in years led her to what she was looking for—a new start in a small town.
Demi couldn’t figure out why Johnny pulled her on stage and sang that song. Was it a form of payback or a way to stir up press? Why did Johnny tell Paul to put her in his dressing room? What could they possibly have to discuss after all these years?
The SUV stopped at a private airstrip. Demi walked towards the plane and paused at the bottom of the stairs. This plane was similar to the one her father owned. She ignored her pitching stomach and took a step forward. She couldn’t let what happened in the past affect the way she lived today. She climbed the steps, settled in one of the chairs and buckled herself in.
Gwen and Trey stood in the doorway, talking to the pilot and flight attendant. Were they waiting for someone? Against her will, her eyes fluttered shut. Demi tapped her fingers on the armrest in an effort to keep herself awake, but her fingers stilled after a minute and her breaths evened out. It had been a long day of painful discoveries and a blast from the past. She was on her way to a new life and when she woke up, she’d handle whatever came next.
Chapter Two
Demi shifted beneath a comforter and moaned as her stomach rolled. She scissored her legs beneath the covers and realized she was still in the pencil skirt and top. She had a mild headache and when her eyes flickered open, she looked around at a room that had no other furniture b
esides the bed. Memories returned in a rush and she rolled onto her stomach and groaned again. Yes, she left Barry… and New York apparently. She made a fool of herself on stage in front of the world, shedding more tears for a guy who made it his goal in life to make her feel like an idiot. She went to the concert for closure and that happened.
Today is a new day, she told herself and slipped out of bed. She walked to the window, moved the curtain aside and took in the scene. She was in a two story house in a neighborhood with sidewalks, trees and kids playing in the street. In the distance, beautiful mountains beckoned. There were no taxis, milling pedestrians or a skyscraper in sight. Heaven, she thought.
So, this was White Mist. She should be concerned that she didn’t remember the flight or how she came to be in this bed, but she didn’t care. She was here. She was in one piece. That’s all that mattered. Maybe her life was taking a turn for the better. She was out of New York, far from Barry and Johnny. That was a good start.
There was a pair of sweat pants on the edge of the bed. With a grimace, Demi reached into her purse and pulled out the tank top Mandy gave her. It would have to do because she couldn’t stay in her clothes a moment longer. She went into the bathroom and decided that since Gwen and Trey put her in this room, it wouldn’t be rude to use the shower. Like the bedroom, the bathroom had only bare necessities. Maybe Gwen and Trey just moved in, she thought.
Demi felt a lot better after she showered. She was surprised to find that the sweats (although a bit tight) were the right length. She figured they had to be Trey’s since he was pretty tall. The tank top, on the other hand, was very small and bared two inches of her midriff. She figured Trey wouldn’t blink at a small strip of skin. She would beg Gwen to take her to a store ASAP…
Demi quietly opened the bedroom door. She was at the end of a hallway with two other unfurnished bedrooms and bathroom. She looked over the railing and saw a nice, open floor plan with a kitchen and living room below. The house was modest and not at all what she expected from two superstars. Gwen and Trey weren’t ostentatious or decadent and it made her like them even more. Demi padded downstairs and paused, listening. Where were they? They wouldn’t leave her in a house by herself, would they?
