“Lael,” my father’s voice booms from behind me.

I nearly jump right out of my skin. Shit. I’ve been extra jumpy since the damn plane landed in Denver, the last person I expected or needed to see was my father.

But there is he, the devil himself in the flesh, standing in the lobby of the Kimpton Monaco hotel.

He’s smiling too.

I don’t trust that smile.

I look around for the rest of the band. I’m a bit early. I said I would meet them down here before we went out for dinner. They wanted the complimentary happy hour that the hotel provides.

“Looking for the guys?” my father asks. “I sent them on their way. I need to talk to you about something in private.”

My heart thuds against my chest.

Shit.

He knows. Oh, he has to know.

I don’t know how but he knows I’m pregnant.

He knows Brad and I have been a thing.

He knows all.

That’s why I don’t trust that smile.

It’s the cat that swallowed the canary.

“Whatever you have to talk to me about, we can talk about it here,” I gesture to the lobby.

“I’m afraid not. You might make a scene.”

Oh, god.

“I can tell you’re already getting riled up,” he says, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I shrug him off. “You tell me here. Whether I make a scene or not, that’s up to me.”

I know it bothers him that so many guests are mingling in the lobby, trying to soak up the free booze. So many guests that probably recognize him. But I don’t care. He wants to control me? He can’t control me now.

“Fine,” he says, eyes turning hard. “You want it this way, fine. I don’t care. It’s you who will suffer, not me.” He lowers his voice. “I know you disobeyed my orders. I know you’re sleeping with Brad.”

“And how would you know that?” I ask him, wondering what else he knows.

“I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Who told you that? How do you know you can trust him?”

“Because I can,” he says. “And it’s Marc Calvi. He’s seen you with him on more than one occasion so don’t even pretend.”

Calvi. I knew it. I’m going to fucking murder him. Then Brad’s going to want to murder him right after. A double-murder and no regrets.

“Look, Calvi is just looking out for the band. As am I. Your dalliances with Brad have been disrupting everything.”

“No they haven’t!” I cry out, attracting the attention of a few people nearby. I lower my voice, knowing I’m completely hormonal lately. “The band has been just fine, we’re performing better than ever. I mean, the tour is almost over, dad. Just let it be.”

“So you don’t deny it.”

“No, I don’t deny it.”

“Then you’re not the smart girl I thought you were.”

“I beg your pardon? Not smart? For the last couple of months I’ve been navigating the dirty, two-faced scene of live music. I’ve been dealing with the media, I’ve been dealing with expectations, I’ve been dealing with everything in order to ensure that every night I give it my all and give it my best. And I do. I’m consistent. I work hard and it pays off. And the only person I don’t have to deal with, who gets me, who understands me and helps me, is Brad.”

My father shakes his head, looking ever so disappointed. “You’re young, Lael. Young and confused. Too young to be a musician, too easily corrupted to be with this band. I should have known but I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

“I am doing what’s best for me,” I tell him, jabbing my thumb into my chest. “This was never up to you. I have control over my life, you don’t.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Lael. I have control over everything you do. And I can make it end for everyone in a second. For you. And for Brad.”

My heart starts to speed up, my face feeling hot. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that it’s over.”

“Over?”

He raises his palm dismissively. “I’m not going to even give you a second chance because I gave you that already and you let me down. You let me down, kid. And that hurts. It hurts. You’ll never know a father’s pain, what I’m feeling.”

“Oh, bullshit.”

“It’s over. Either you leave this band and make tonight your last show or Brad does. There’s no way both of you will be part of this band ever again. So make your choice.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can. I own Brad. You know this. And he owes me. I’ll pull him from the band.”

“He is the band!”

He shrugs. “Then there are no more shows. I’ve made enough money from this tour, it doesn’t really matter if you do the last shows or not. Who cares? If it all ends, who cares? I’ll build up another band with someone who respects me.”

“You’re a monster,” I seethe. “You’re not a father at all.”

It has no effect on him. “You’re not a parent, you’ll never understand the sacrifices.”

I can’t control what I say next. It just roars out of me, like a volcano. “I will be a parent!”

“Yeah, one day.”

“No,” I tell him, gathering my courage. “Now. In nine months. Dad. I’m pregnant.”

He stares at me completely calm and cool. He doesn’t even blink.

“You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant,” I tell him. “I’m going to have the baby. And Brad is the father.”

Everything happens in slow motion. My father goes pale, his skin almost matching his blonde hair, and he starts to sway a bit like he’s going to faint. His mouth drops open. He’s in shock.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I didn’t want you to find out this way but it’s true. I’m going to have Brad’s baby, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

I have to admit, I’m totally expecting my father to blow up right there and then but he manages to hold it together. I’m pretty sure he’s having a stroke on the inside but on the outside he looks as blank-faced and impassive as ever.

“You really know how to hurt me, don’t you Lael.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“I’ll be like whatever I want. Obviously I can’t stop you. But I can stop this band from going forward. What I said earlier sticks. Either Brad leaves the band or you do. Make tonight your last show, you hear me? You or him, make up your mind.”

“Who the hell is going to play bass?”

“I have Bruce Ross on call,” he says, giving me a satisfied smirk. “I had a feeling something like this would happen. He auditioned for them and will make a great fit. Better than you did.”

“No one will do a better job than me,” I say, shoving my finger in his face.

He just stares down at me with cold eyes. “Don’t kid yourself, Lael. I let you do this as a favor. The fantasy is over. Back to reality with you. You and your baby. Good luck trying to get Brad to be a part of it.”

Then he turns, grabs a glass of wine off the table and strolls out of the hotel with it in hand, as if he owns the place.

I’m left simmering in the lobby, my heart thumping, my limbs feeling numb.

How dare he?

I mean, I wasn’t expecting hugs and kisses when I told him I was pregnant, but I also wasn’t expecting him to just walk away like that, like he didn’t care at all.

And I certainly didn’t think tonight would be my last show.

Shit.

I mean, it’s the right thing to do. I can walk, it’s harder for Brad. I am just a replacement in the end, Brad is everything to do with the band. And I know that if I tell Brad what just happened, everything that just went down, that he’ll be the one to quit.

This is his life. I can’t let him do that.

I’ll just have to lie to him.

It won’t be easy though.

I’ll have to make something up. Tell him that I’m just not feeling it anymore, that I want to go home and start being a mom. I’ve been feeling great, maybe a bit tired lately, but I can always use the pregnancy as an excuse. He can’t question that.

But of course, no matter how I swing it, this is going to be my last show.

The end.

How on earth am I going to come to terms with that? How am I going to say goodbye to the band? How am I going to say goodbye to the beauty and joy it brings me? The sense of purpose?

I guess in some ways I would have to anyway. After tonight, there’s only three more shows. My father was right, the fantasy would be over and soon. But even so, I needed time to prepare, time to grieve. I didn’t want it to be like this, being given the boot because everything good that happens to me comes with a mountain of complications.

I feel bereft. I want to go into my room, crawl into bed, and cry. Maybe it’s the altitude here, but I feel like I could sleep forever and then maybe wake up and have it be a bad dream.

But I won’t do that.

I can’t.

If this is my last show, then it’s my last show.

I’m going to pull up my big girl panties and give it everything I have.

Every last inch of my heart and soul.

I’m going to rock, pregnant and all, like I’ve never rocked before.

But first…

I’m going to find Calvi and punch him right in his god damn face.