CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
José has worked his magic. We are walking out of the salon as new people. Gone are the mullets and in their place are sophisticated rocker looks, their hair layered but long enough to touch their shoulders. For the first time ever, I actually find them handsome, and I’m pretty sure they think so too; they’re walking taller and prouder than when they came in.
Ty looks pretty much the same. They took some of the length off the top and shortened the back and sides, but they’ve gelled it up into his trademark spikes, making it hard for me to keep my hands to myself.
Red looks at his phone, frowning and putting it to his ear as we approach the front door of the salon.
“What’s the matter?” Paul asks. I hardly recognize him. He’s way better-looking with his hair shorter. It’s as if fifteen years have been taken off.
“My driver says there’s a crowd outside.”
“Just go straight for the car,” Ty says to me, putting his arm around my lower back.
I nod. José is standing at the front door with his hand on the lock. “Are we ready, people?” We all gather in a tight group at the door, Red in front.
“Let’s do it,” Ty says.
They head out the door, but I hold back.
“I need to pay you,” I say to José. Camera flashes are going off and people start yelling. I ignore them, trying to listen to José.
“Come back tomorrow, sweet girl. We’ll take care of it then.”
“Okay.” I’m not sure that this is how business is usually done, but Ty is pulling on my hand, dragging me out the door.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, José. Thank you so much for my hair.” I reach up and touch it. It feels lighter even though he really didn’t take much length off.
“It was my pleasure. Come back soon.”
I’m pulled into a crowd of people that’s a lot bigger than I expected it to be. It’s not just regular fans hanging out, but television crews and reporters too. There are flashes going off everywhere. Red hasn’t made it to his car. He’s standing in the middle of the whole thing, under a bright light shining on his face.
“Whose idea was it for you to change your look so drastically?” a woman asks, sticking her microphone in Red’s face.
“Let’s just say it’s somebody the band trusts.” He looks behind him, but thankfully can’t see me over the taller heads in front of me.
“What do you think your fans are going to say?”
“I hope they’re going to say we look good.” He smiles and everyone laughs.
“Aren’t you worried that abandoning the look that’s worked for you for so many years is a mistake?”
His good humor disappears in a flash. “No comment.” He puts his head down and pushes past her. The rest of the band follows quickly on his heels.
My plan is to do the same, but somebody grabs me and pulls me back. I find the bright lights in my face now and the microphone just under my nose.
“Are you the person responsible for all the changes we’re seeing?”
My eyes go wide. Ty is on the fringe of the group, trying to get to me, but he’s being blocked by people wanting his autograph. He tries to ignore them, but they’re very persistent, shoving paper and pen in his face.
I panic. “Maybe?”
I can’t believe how badly I just failed at that. I imagine watching myself on television later and being humiliated at what a wiener I’ve become. The wall of people is several feet thick so I’m not going anywhere right now. The reporter is throwing another question at me before I can come up with a plan of how to get out of this mess.
“How are you associated with the band? Are you this long-lost daughter that we’ve heard about? Are the rumors true?”
“What?” Now I’m pissed. What the hell is going on?
“Rumor has it there’s a love child on the loose in New York City. It’s you, isn’t it?”
I glare at her. “No comment.”
“What do you hope to accomplish coming out as a daughter of Red Wylde now after twenty-five years?”
“No comment,” I say louder.
“Are you looking for money? Are you going to demand a paternity test?”
“Which part of no comment do you not understand?!” I shout.
Her microphone is still in my face. She almost hits me with it, shouting her question at me. “Do you know their music? Are you even a fan?”
I grab the top of the microphone and shove it down toward the ground, ripping the spongy black part off. I toss it out into the crowd and glare at her. “I told you no comment, and I meant it.”
“Just give me something I can use,” she says, shouldering people aside so she can get even closer than she already was.
Suddenly, Ty is there and he’s wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me away. His forearm slides up to my neck, but I don’t care that I’m almost in a headlock at this point. I just want to get away from these people.
The woman falls in behind us, yelling questions at the back of my head. Ty easily ignores her, but it’s grating on my nerves. I pause, intending to give her a piece of my mind, but Ty pulls me toward him. “Don’t do it. You’ll regret it.”
He’s right. I know he is. I keep going and we finally make it to the car. The door is open and the driver is there, protecting my right to enter the vehicle with only Ty at my side. I swear, some of these fans and reporters are so nutty they’d climb in with us if they thought they could get away with it.
My heart is beating like it’s trying to escape my chest. I can’t believe how awful and scary that was. Once we’re closed up in the car, I look at Ty, knowing my eyeballs are practically falling out of my head. “How do you put up with that?”
He looks incredibly sad. “I think it’s easier for me than it is for you.”
“They’re so intrusive . . . so rude.”
“They make money by selling news, whether it’s true or not, doesn’t matter. In fact the more awful it is, the better.”
I shake my head. “I need to learn how to deal with these people, because I’m obviously in way over my head.”
He reaches over and takes my hand, holding it on his thigh. “You did really well, actually. You kept saying no comment, which is exactly what you should be doing.”
“Are you sure?” I look at him, trying to figure out if he’s just being nice. “I really wanted to give her a piece of my mind.”
“She was baiting you so that you would. You don’t want to give her what she’s looking for. It’s not going to be good for you no matter what you say. When you’re ready to talk, you can schedule a real interview with a quality network and prearranged questions. It’ll be fine.”
“You’re right.” I know he’s right. I just really wish I could be one of those people who has the perfect answer ready at the right moment and enough confidence to pull it all off. Maybe I’ll be there someday, but I’m definitely not there now.
“You did good.” He kisses the back of my hand. “For somebody who has no experience with it, you did exactly what you should have. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” It’s just a few simple words, but he manages to turn the evening around for me.
“Your hair looks great,” he says, grinning at me as he reaches up to touch it.
I smile at him. “Now you’re just shining me on.”
“No, I swear.” He holds up his hand in a pledge. “You look seriously hot.”
I giggle. “Stop.” I look out the window, watching the buildings and other cars go by. This day has been the craziest of my entire life, hands down.
“Can I come up to the room with you?”
I look at him and bite my lip. Is he thinking what I’m thinking?
He winks.
I know then that we’re of the same mind, and pretty soon we’re going to be naked together. I cannot wait. I nod and he smiles back at me.
I pass the rest of the car trip in silence, letting my thoughts run their own course. Now that I have some distance between myself and those reporters, things are becoming clearer.
If I’m going to make this my life . . . for two weeks or whatever . . . I need to remember who I am, where I come from, and what I’m all about. I can’t let people intimidate me or scare me. I think Rose was right about me; I think I was meant for this life. And Ty said I handled myself exactly right when I was being pressured by those reporters. I practiced saying No comment in the mirror and then when I needed it to come out right, it did. All I need is practice and a can-do attitude, and I’ll make it.
And if I can make it through these two weeks, who knows what I could do next? The possibilities are endless, and I can honestly say that this is the first time in years that I’ve felt this way about my future. It fills me with excitement to even contemplate that.
My mothers made a huge decision about their lives twenty-some odd years ago that affected no fewer than ten people forever. They made a critical decision about how they were going to move forward into their future without talking to all the people involved. I need to learn from their mistakes and not repeat them.
I decided years ago that I had to stay on the farm and make my future there, but I never actually asked my family what they thought about my decision. I just assumed they’d agree. But after talking to Rose and Em, and after experiencing this New York City life, I’m starting to think that was a mistake. I’m doing the same thing my moms did all those years ago, which is beyond foolish. If I’m going to base my entire future on someone else’s needs, I at least have to be absolutely sure I know what their needs are first, right? My family and I should probably have a conversation about it, but I’m not going to get ahead of myself. First I have to kick butt during this two-week period. Then . . . we’ll see.