Chapter Twenty-Three
The problem with any success was it was always fleeting. For a brief few years Nash was the lead guitarist of Spectre and every trapping that went with the lifestyle of a rock god was his.
Then he fell in love. The high was greater than standing on stage in front of thousands of fans. When he showed up here and found his Petals, correction, Ryane Windsome waiting for him, his heart was full, complete, and for a second he thought they would go live their happily ever after.
Now, as he watched the woman of his dreams run out of the party, he knew never to wish for any of those spectacular successes ever again. Stages exploded leaving him forever maimed, parents died leaving unfinished business, and women snuck around and pretended they didn’t know him all for a piece of land that was ruining their monopoly.
“I don’t know what made her run off like that.” Mr. Windsome patted his shoulder. “I think she’s nervous. This is her engagement party.”
Of course things could always get worse.
Nash froze. He swore his heart stopped and every muscle in his body tensed and it took all his strength for his knee not to give out. If there were any hope, any truth to the fact they met purely by fate, that they needed each other, it was doused with this man’s words and the timing of Ryane’s invitation. Apparently, disappearing wasn’t enough, she had to make sure he saw she went off to greener pastures.
The music stopped and some man dressed in a conventional tuxedo stepped up to the microphone. “Everyone, I would like to extend my congratulations to the Windsome Family at celebrating eighty-five years in business. Now the waiters will be passing around champagne and we will get ready for a very important announcement right at the stroke of midnight.”
Midnight.
That was his cue to get out of here.
“That’s my future son-in-law.” Mr. Windsome motioned toward the stage. “I can hardly wait to hear what you have planned afterwards.”
What he had planned was leaving, and starting a new life without women, without wanting, without baggage. Starting with getting rid of the past. Anything he held on to was only chains around his neck suffocating him. “Actually, I’m not here as entertainment. I’m here to give you this.” He reached into the breast pocket of his tuxedo and pulled out the papers on the land. If nothing else he would give Petals what she wanted, since he would never be able to set foot there again.
“Will Ryane Windsome please come to the stage?” Her fiancé’s voice boomed through the ballroom. The man was exactly the type Petals should end up with. What on earth had he been thinking?
From across the ballroom, he saw Ryane appear. A drumroll started and a spotlight hit her, causing her to shield her eyes. There would never be a more beautiful woman in the world. While he could stand there and gaze upon her all day, in no way would he be witness to her engagement.
Needing to take action, he snatched the pen away from the woman he gave the autograph to, tore the papers out of envelope, and signed in the designated spots. “Here you go, the land is yours.” He crumpled the pages and shoved them in Mr. Windsome’s hand.
“What?” The man looked down at the mess.
“It’s yours. Tell your daughter it’s from Knight.” All along she knew who he was. It never made any sense she didn’t recognize him eventually, especially after he played her song for her. All she wanted was her property. The woman should have been an actress, not a business mogul. In search of his cane, he scanned the area. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two identical blonds. He knew all too well whom they belonged too. No time to question why his stepbrothers were here. This whole thing was nothing more than one big joke on him.
A waiter offered him a glass of champagne. Mr. Windsome and those gathered around him inched closer to the action.
It was his chance, cane or not, and he turned and limped out. Not wanting to chance the stairs and an expert in making a getaway after his years with Spectre, he focused on the door the catering staff used.
Finally, he made it to the door, turning back to see Ryane was now up on stage.
With a shake of his head, he slipped into the back.
The one thing his last bit of celebrity shine afforded him was the ability to walk through spaces the general public would never be allowed.
He weaved through the back hallways of the hotel nodding and smiling at the different employees. His mind was cluttered with thoughts of Petals, Ryane, his stepmother and the twins, and the fact he just gave up his property, the last tie he had to his past. Somehow, when he pictured selling it, he pictured going off to live a life with his ladylove.
No, he had absolutely no direction, except for the fact he absolutely had to get out of this hotel.
Sheer luck and following the exit signs finally led him back into the lobby.
Desperate for fresh air, he rushed outside to search for Erik and Christine, only to find out that in the middle of spring Los Angeles was having a torrential downpour.
Erik’s car was nowhere.
“Taxi?” a uniformed valet called to him.
He shook his head then slipped his phone out of his pocket and read a text message from Erik.
Christine has gone into labor, had to leave, will call later.
A lone laugh left him. He only received the message ten minutes ago. If he would have left sooner, he could have gone with them. In all truth, he should have never come here in the first place.
He stepped out into the rain and glanced up at the night sky. Clouds covered the stars, no moon in sight. For the first time in his life, he was completely alone. No ties, nothing holding him down. Soon he would have money, especially since the documents from the Windsome had a fast escrow.
Yes, he was alone and it was time he learned to walk on his own.