I shrug, speechless for a minute.
“Didn’t I tell you I won’t let you go this time? Did you think I was lying?”
Oh, right. I forgot about that. “I guess … I don’t know … it’s hard for me to believe something like that.”
“Oh, sweet Taylor, when will I gain your trust again?” He leans down to kiss me and I let myself sink into the kiss. His lips are warm and tender, but possessive. He has the strength I’ve been missing for so long. I want to let him take care of me. I want to give myself to him because I know he’ll never take advantage of me. He’s the only man who never took advantage of me. He’s my safe place. I wrap a hand around the back of his neck and start pulling him down on top of me, but he pulls back.
“Hey, I have plans for us.” He touches his forehead to mine and smiles.
“Oh. Right.” I sit up then, running my hands through my hair. It’s a mess. He doesn’t seem to care, plus, he’s the one who made it that way. “So? Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d pick up some breakfast since I can’t trust you to fix us anything.”
I laugh. “What’s wrong with you? Is steak the only thing you know how to cook?”
“No comment,” he chuckles. “Maybe you’re not the only one who never had to learn how to cook.”
“I thought so,” I say with a smile. “Okay. What’s for breakfast, then?”
“I was thinking … fresh fried apple muffins. What do you think?” Like he has to ask. My eyes go round and my mouth starts watering. I’m like Pavlov’s dog. I can’t believe he remembers my obsession with fried apple muffins. Not just any sort of muffins, either. Like those plastic-wrapped pieces of garbage they sell at gas stations. These are baked fresh at Sharon’s Bakery.
“You remember,” I whisper with a smile.
“How could I forget? You’ve made me go out of my way to find them more times than I can count.”
“I know.”
“You wanted to develop an app—”
“Yes, Cole. I get it. You remember because I have a fried apple muffin problem.” I shove him playfully and he laughs.
“I thought it would be a nice gesture,” he says with a smile that makes his dimples stand out. It is almost shy, a thing one could associate with a man’s man like him. I can’t tease him anymore when he smiles like that. Even though I know he’s playing around. Trying to melt me. Which he’s doing, and very well, but still.
“It would be. I’m starving. Why are you still sitting here?”
“That’s because you were trying to get in my pants, like, twenty seconds ago.”
“That was before you put the thought of fried apple muffins in my head. Go! Get moving!” I try to shove him off the bed, but his feet are so solidly planted on the floor. It’s like trying to move a wall. He doesn’t budge an inch. Laughing my head off I start using my feet instead.
“Fine, fine!” He gets up and he’s laughing, too, and I think this is it. This is what I want, forever. Laughing with him over stupid things, being silly, teasing each other and looking forward to spending the morning together. My heart has never felt so full.
Taylor
I wait until I hear the front door close before I jump out of bed and hurry to the bathroom for a shower. I can’t believe it: I miss him already. I giggle to myself just thinking about him coming back with the muffins and the idea of hanging out with him all day. It’s crazy, the way he’s so deep in me, like he’s formed roots that have wound their way all through my soul.
As I wash, I remember the feeling of Cole’s hands on me. The way his tongue drove me crazy. The way his body moved along mine, inside me and above me and all over me, everywhere.
I need to hurry up and finish showering, which means I need to stop thinking about him or else I’ll end up with pruny skin and no more hot water. I wash my hair, condition it, rinse it off, and hop out of the tub.
The room is full of steam. I wipe it off the mirror and look at myself, really look at myself for the first time since I came back to town. Who is this girl? She has sparkling eyes and color in her cheeks, color that isn’t just from the hot shower. She’s smiling, too, and it’s not for a camera or her screaming fans. She’s smiling because she’s really, genuinely happy. So much that she could just about burst from it.
With a big grin I turn away from the mirror and grab a towel. It’s a far cry from the luxurious pile I’m used to, but I hum to myself as I dry off, which turns into singing. When’s the last time I randomly burst into song? Usually, I have to be careful of overusing my voice in between appearances. I don’t care very much about that right now.
Music is just bursting to come out of my skin. I sing some of the songs I performed with Cole back at Artie’s and start to think that Cole could be right about me performing where and when I feel like it. Sure, I won’t be the superstar I am now, but the real truth about that is been there got the T-shirt, had enough.
Singing the songs I want to sing and doing what makes me happy is what I want now. I want to concentrate on the sort of music that makes me want to perform. Not the mindless jingles that sells by the millions. I want to be in control of my life. What else is there if not? To run on a hamster wheel for the rest of my life?
I switch on the hairdryer and marvel at how much my outlook has changed in almost no time. All because of him. I’ve told myself time and again over the years that I can’t and won’t rely on a man to make me happy. Nobody but I can do that. I’ve sworn to myself that I’ll never, ever let a man’s opinion steer my actions. I rely on my instincts. I know myself best, after all. Yet here I am, happily letting his ideas into my brain. But it feels like a good thing. It’s all so good. How have I gone around without him for so long? What was I thinking?
The ringing of the doorbell makes me laugh. No way he could’ve gotten to town, waited at the bakery, and come back that quickly. I throw my wet hair into a messy bun as I run down the stairs. “Forget your wallet?” I call out, laughing, as I throw open the door.
It’s not him though. I never thought it might not be him.
Taylor
“Victoria?” I spit the name out like it’s poison, because it is. I haven’t seen her since high school and would’ve died happy if I never saw her again. Ugh, why did she have to catch me without make-up, wearing grungy clothes, and my hair still wet? Anyway, why do I even care?
I guess no matter how much money I make, no matter how many fans I have all over the world—not to mention the people I hang out with, who probably wouldn’t look twice at her since she’s nothing but a big fish in a small pond—I’m still reduced to the poor, somewhat outcast kid who happens to be able to sing. Just the way it was when we were kids.
She doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “We need to talk.”
“What about?” I don’t move to allow her into the house. She stands on the porch, looking like a million bucks. Some people don’t have to be flashy about their wealth. You can just tell they’re wealthy by the way they carry themselves, the way they wear even simple clothes. I used to worry I’ll never get to that point. That I’ll never wear my hair just the right way, or wear the wrong clothes because I wasn’t raised with money. Not like Victoria.
“We have things to discuss.” I can’t see her eyes behind her big, dark glasses, but her tone of voice is more than enough to tell me she still looks down on me. Maybe more than ever before, which is saying something since she always treated me like the shit that got stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
I lift my chin. “I can’t imagine that we have anything to discuss, Victoria. We didn’t ten years ago, and we certainly don’t now.”
“I think we do. The talk is all over town that Cole’s car was parked outside your house overnight.”
“What the hell has it got to do with you?”
“Let me in, or we’ll have this out in the middle of the street. I’m sure the media will enjoy getting a hold of that story.”
“Oh for crying out loud, just get
in.” I step aside and hold the door open so she can come in. Surprisingly, I manage not to slam the door once she’s inside. She slides her glasses to the top of her head and looks around like she knows people lived this way, but has never seen it with her own eyes.
A shiver of rage runs up my spine, and I wish to God I could give into it. I’d love to tear out her smooth, thick, perfectly highlighted hair. I clear my throat sarcastically.
She stops going over the furniture and pictures and faces me, instead. “Sorry to burst in on your morning.”
“Why pretend? You’re not sorry.”
“You’re right. I’m not,” she admits coolly.
“What are you doing here, Victoria?”
“You can’t imagine how disappointed I was when I found out you’ve been shacking up here with Cole.”
“Shacking up? I’d hardly call spending a couple of days with my own boyfriend ‘shacking up,’ so watch your language.”
“Your boyfriend?” she sneers. “Honey, he was your boyfriend eight years ago. He’s my fiancé now.” She sweeps her long, chocolate brown hair over one shoulder and holds up her left hand. On it is a diamond that could choke a horse. “Guess who gave me this?”
The shock of her claim makes me stagger. There’s a girl in front of me who is wearing a diamond that might have come from him. My head starts to reel. It’s not possible. It can’t be. No way. But why would she arrive on my front porch if it wasn’t true? Why would she be here, pursing her lips the way they’re pursed, popping out one hip like she’s daring me to start a fight? Humiliation and dread and complete disgust start to creep all through me.
She rolls her big, dark eyes. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”
I want to be strong in front of her, but it’s hard. Really hard when my whole life is being turned upside down. I cross my arms over my chest like a protective shield. “You’re lying,” I whisper.
“Why would I lie? You left eight years ago. What did you think, that Cole would wait for you like a monk? I’m sorry to tell you, but you’ve been sleeping with my fiancé, Taylor.”
I can’t help it. No matter how hard I fight against letting her see me react, I reel back like she slapped me. No. It’s not possible. For God’s sake, why does it have to be her? Of all the women in the entire world, why her? Cole knows how much I detest her. I can’t remember all the times she’s put me down, made me feel lower than dirt because I didn’t hit the paternity jackpot the way she did. Just because her father owns the other half of the town that Cole’s father doesn’t, she’s treated like royalty. She acts like she is, too.
“Your fiancé?” I echo. Even seeing the ring didn’t hit home as hearing her call him that.
“Yeah. Fiancé. As in engaged to be married.”
“Since when?”
She places her sunglasses on the coffee table and runs a hand through her hair, shaking it out like a chocolate waterfall. As I stare at it in a daze, I pick up the scent of her shampoo and smoothing serum. I feel sick when I think of him burying his nose in my hair and telling me he missed the smell of my shampoo.
“For ages now,” she says, a cruel tilt to her cultured voice. “I mean, it’s always been assumed that we would get married. We come from the same background and we get on. We just had to make it official, which we did … a year ago.”
She loves this. I can almost taste the satisfaction pouring out of her. Like spending kindergarten through junior year making my life miserable wasn’t enough. She needs to spike the ball in the end zone. Ever since I can remember she has always had it in for me. Why does she hate me so much? I never did a thing to her. It’s like she decided from the first day of school that my misery would be her lifelong, personal project. So she stands there, blithe and calm and crushes my heart under her designer shoes.
I won’t let myself crumble to pieces in front of her. “He’s never spoken a word about you,” I say. At least my voice is a little stronger than before.
“I find that hard to believe—but I guess it makes sense in a way. He wanted to slum it for a few days.”
“How dare you,” I hiss.
“I dare because that’s exactly what he was doing, and if you’re honest, you won’t deny it either.” She waves her hands around the living room. “I mean, come on. Do you think this is anything like what he’s used to?”
“It’s not even what I’m used to anymore,” I cry defensively. “I only came back for the funeral.”
She folds her arms, mimicking my pose. Only she looks better doing it, an Amazon wearing all-black except for a khaki trench coat. “Please. We both know that this is the real you. Everything else is just what you picked up. You can put all the lipstick you want on a pig, but they’re still a pig.”
“Go to hell,” I snap. “And get your head out of your ass while you’re there. I don’t know who died and made you Queen, but I’m waiting to hear Cole’s side of this.”
She shakes her head mournfully. “It’s always the same with people like you. You earn a little money, get a little famous, and you think it makes you a decent person. You will always be the girl who grew up poor. And one day, everything will come crashing down on you. Probably because you’ll do something to screw it all up, the way people who secretly know they’re no good always do. Cole’s too good for you, and you know it. He might have forgotten it, but he’ll remember. He’s just a man. Sometimes they don’t think too clearly when they’re using their other head. Know what I mean?”
I’m about ready to projectile vomit all over her designer clothes. This bitch. I straighten my spine. “Where do you get off judging me? Are you so bored that you need to go around tearing other people down? Maybe you need a hobby?”
“No, sweetheart. I need you to leave my fiancé alone. That’s what I need. My fiancé …” She pauses for effect. “The father of my baby.”
Taylor
My legs fold up, and I land on the sofa with a thud. The sofa where we just made love last night.
“A baby.” I wish I could come up with something more intelligent, but she has me at a loss. A big, fat, major loss.
She covers her stomach with her hands. “Yes, I’m pregnant. And no, I didn’t trap him. It was an accident, but he was more than happy for us to keep it. After all we had already decided to get married by then. You need to step aside and let the rest of us get back to living our lives. You had your chance years ago and you blew it. Maybe you even had a bit of fun here with him, but it’s over now.”
I can’t even look at her. I was sleeping with her fiancé. Her baby’s father. I’m the bad guy. I force myself to look up. “He never said a word about it. That’s the truth.”
She shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “I’m willing to let it go, because the two of you did mean something to each other back in the day. I guess having you back in town made him go a little crazy. Nostalgia, you know. I’m trying to be the bigger person, but I’ve got my baby’s happiness to think of. You wouldn’t want to be a home wrecker, would you?”
I don’t understand. I feel so confused. How could Cole be the way he was with me if he had a fiancée? Why didn’t he tell me? How could he? How could I have so completely misjudged him? Are they on a break? Did they break-up and she can’t come to terms with it? I realize I’m making excuses for him, but I need to do something. Anything to stop the pain in my chest from spreading. I can’t believe he would lie to me like that.
“Are you two happy?” I search her face for any sign of a reaction, anything that will tell me she’s lying.
“We’re very much in love,” she says with a slow, satisfied smile. “We have been for years. We got together at my niece’s christening party three years … after you left.” The last three words are a reproach, a curse. She perches on the edge of the opposite sofa, like she doesn’t want to let her clothes touch it.
She sighs, rubbing her hands together. The diamond gleams and shines and sparkles. “I won’t lie to you. He was pretty broken up about you leavi
ng. I guess—I don’t know—the romances we have when we’re young affect us more strongly. I’ll give him that much. I was there for him even before we started going out together. What I’m saying is I picked up the pieces. I made sure he didn’t do anything rash, which he might have done. For a while it was bad. And that was when we got closer, but after the party we knew what he had with you was the lust of a hormonal boy and what we had was the real thing. Neither of us has looked back since then.”
“Except for now. When I came to town,” I say slowly.
“Except for that.” Her lips tighten. “I don’t know—maybe he wanted to get you out of his system, once and for all. That makes perfect sense to me. Look at it this way. You can finally have him out of your system, too. Right?” The way she says it, it sounds like she’s doing me a favor. Like I should be thanking her.
“I guess so,” I hear myself whisper, my mind going around in circles. He wanted us to be together. I know I’m not wrong about that. Maybe he really does, but like a leopard never changes its spots, he hasn’t altered either. Despite all his protestations that he was a kid then and he is a man now, he is still the same unreliable person he was years ago. Then he changed his mind at the last minute and left me in the lurch, and now it looks like he is doing the same thing to Victoria. I can’t stand Victoria, but good luck to her. Let her have him. I don’t want a man who is so fickle and changeable. I want a man who is an unshakeable rock. A man who keeps his promises. Cole has broken every promise he ever made to me.
“Hey,” Victoria adds, “your life isn’t even here anymore. This town? You’ve outgrown it. Right?” She raises an eyebrow. “Listen. I was pissed off and hurt before, and I said some things I shouldn’t have said. About you being trashy, I mean. I won’t pretend like I’ve never followed your career. Maybe it’s morbid fascination, I don’t know. Or I might have wanted to keep tabs on the girl my boyfriend, now fiancé, used to love. Who knows? Regardless, you’ve done well for yourself. Really. You should be proud.”
The Promise Page 9
