“Charm and a bad sense of humor only get you so far. After that, you have to give them something real.” ~ Johnny Outlaw
I should sneak out. I really, really, really should. But when I look at him all wrapped in the covers instead of me, my heart starts to ache and I go back. Climbing back in bed with him, I kiss him lightly on the cheek, then whisper, “Dalton?” His arm comes around me, pulling me close. “I’ve gotta go, Babe.”
“I’ll see you,” he says, still mostly asleep.
“Soon,” I reply and place another kiss on his cheek, this time lingering a moment longer.
When I stand up, I walk out without looking back. If I look back, I’ll stay and I have to go.
Tracy and I are standing at the airport counter. While we wait in the security line, she asks, “No coffee this morning?”
“I didn’t have time to make any before I left.”
“We can get one before we board. How did last night turn out?”
“Like all my nights with him.”
“You always speak so vaguely when it comes to you guys.”
“No I don’t,” I reply. “I only tend to do that when he’s touring and things are… strained.”
“So you admit you do it?” She moves her suitcase up as the line goes forward and I follow with mine. When we stop again, she says, “I’m sorry things are strained. Do you want to talk about it?”
We scoot our luggage forward again. “When Dalton tours, he changes. He’s divided, having to play two roles. It takes him longer to come back to me, to be who he is when he’s home. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.” I laugh without humor.
“I imagine it’s difficult for him to play a role for the public and slip back into who he really is. Last night at the club was intense.”
“Sebastian crossed a line, with him and with me. What he said was inappropriate and to say that to my husband, even more so.”
“Guess he learned his lesson.”
“Dalton’s jealous streak is well documented, but he still shouldn’t have hit him.”
“Sebastian got a hit in too, but I agree with you. This might not be good for our campaign.”
A security agent calls her and the other one calls me. Once we’re through, we’re sitting on a bench putting our shoes back on when I say, “I’ll make sure the campaign is a success.” We grab our bags and head for our gate.
“You have the details for the dinner tonight?”
“Yes. Spago at seven.”
“Look at you, fancy pants. All Spago-ing like the power players.”
Laughing, I say, “Oh yeah. I’m a real power player all right.”
“I think you’re more powerful than you think. If you’re not, we’re doing it wrong.”
“I’d like you to come, Trace.”
“Can’t. I have dinner with Adam and two of his bosses tonight. They don’t call it an interrogation, but they’re basically trying to figure out who to promote into the Jr. VP’s role.”
We stop in line at the coffee stand on the way to our gate. My phone buzzes with a text. When I pull it from my purse, it reads: Infinite.
Smiling, I type: Infinite, and push send.
“What is it?” Tracy asks.
“Mr. Complicated himself. He just texted me.” Looking at my watch, I see it’s just gone nine. “Guess he just got up.”
“Where do they play next?”
“I don’t even know. I’d have to look it up. But they’re staying until tomorrow because he has meetings today.” Thinking about what he told me last night about giving it all up, I start to wonder how it will affect the meetings he has with the label, a new producer, and his interview this evening. Worrying about him is part of caring about him, but he might just have to work this one out on his own, figure out his own direction.
We order our coffee and step to the side after paying. I dump two packets of sugar into mine and three creamers. While stirring her own coffee, Tracy says, “If I’m being honest and I always want to be with you, I can see the change in you when he’s not around.” I look up briefly, but avoid her eyes, wanting to hide from the truth a little longer. “I know it’s hard, but you need to remember who you are, Holli, and hold tight to that.”
“Maybe I like who I am better when I’m with him.”
“I know you do. I don’t live in your shoes so I’m not going to claim I fully understand the situation.” We start walking to the gate. “I can’t even imagine life without Adam or how you survive for weeks on end without Johnny home with you. But you need to. I didn’t want to say anything, but you can’t be all things all the time. You need to get your head in the game. You need to be present.”
“I am. I’m here when I’d rather be back in bed with him.”
“But that’s what I mean. You need to want to be here.”
“Like you said, you don’t understand what it’s like,” I snap, feeling defensive. We reach the gate and I find two chairs and sit down. And I do what I hate doing—I sulk. I do it because it’s early and I’m tired, but also because I know she’s right.
She nudges my arm. “I still love ya.”
“I love ya too.” And like that, all’s okay again.
Spago is busy, but it’s Wednesday, no surprise—prime wheelin’ and dealin’ night of the week. I see at least four A-list celebrities, two C-list, and several recognizable movie directors as I’m lead to the table. Cliff Sorden and Jason Halstrom from the card company stand when I arrive. I greet them both by shaking their hands, saving the Hollywood cheek kiss for the movie industry types.
I sit down and Cliff holds up his glass. “We ordered champagne.”
“Great.” I pick up the glass in front of me. “Are we celebrating?”
“We hope we are. We want your lime.”
“If you said that over tequila, you might get slapped,” I joke.
Jason says, “That’s what we want. We want your humor and that lime. Together, this line of cards is going to be huge.” He taps his glass against mine as does Cliff.
I sip, then say, “I’ve got a small line of cards already. How will this be different?”
“You get free reign,” Cliff says, “the brand is ready to go in a new, contemporary direction.”
Jason adds, “No curse words, of course.”
“Of course,” I say.
“But from there, we’re ready to give you a wide berth on creativity…” While Jason is talking my eyes drift behind him. A man with shoulder length brown hair, six-three, broad chest and an outfit that’s appears professionally styled is walking toward our table. I know who he is before I even make eye contact. Kiefer Keys—my ex-boyfriend.
My knee starts bouncing as anxiety strikes. I didn’t date anyone for months after I caught him in bed with my hairdresser. For months, I lost trust in men and faith in humanity.
“Holliday Hughes… or is it Outlaw now?” he asks with an arrogant gleam in his eyes. His voice rises at the end like he’s suddenly British.
“Mrs. Outlaw will do,” I say straight-faced, not as happy to see him as he seems to be to see me.
Laughing as he works his way around to my side, he ignores Cliff and Jason and leans down to kiss my cheek. I don’t return the greeting. “I’ve missed your spunk.”
“I can’t say the same. This is a business meeting, Todd.”
“It’s Kiefer, remember?”
“Ahh, right.” I struggle to call him Kiefer. I knew him back when he was Todd from Missouri. He changed his name to land commercials. It worked for a while, then he formed a band that’s had some success. Since he remains standing here, I feel obligated to introduce him. “Cliff Sorden and Jason Halstrom, this is Kiefer Keys.”
Cliff shakes his hand excitedly. “I’m a big fan. I saw The Mattresses two years ago in Cincinnati.”
Kiefer nods his head and I roll my eyes. Kiefer says, “Thanks. We’re rolling out a tour in a few months. Make sure to come out.”
“I will. Thanks.” Cliff looks at me and asks, “So how do you know each other?”
“College,” I respond just as Kiefer says, “We used to date.”
Instantly annoyed, I shift uncomfortable in my chair. I don’t want to do this with business associates. Kiefer says, “I inspired her lemon.”
“Lime,” I correct.
“Right. Lime.”
Jason says, “Oh really?”
“Long story.” I stand up. “Please excuse me for a minute.” They both nod as I speak to Kiefer in a hushed tone, “C’mon.”
“Gladly.”
I head for the exit, weaving my way through the restaurant and out the main door. After putting some distance between us and the entrance, I cross my arms and ask, “What do you want?”
“You’re so hostile.”
“Yes, call me bitter, but the last time I saw you, you were fucking a friend of mine.”
“She was your hairdresser, not a friend.”
“We were roommates.”
“Okay, fine. You were friends. I didn’t think you were that close. Anyway, I’m not here to discuss her.”
“Why are you here?”
“I was having dinner with some guys from the label. I heard your boy is talking to producers. You know I do that?”
“I don’t know anything about you, Todd.”
That makes him laugh sardonically. “For the record, if I could change what I did, I would.”
“For the record, it doesn’t matter what you would do if you could because you can’t, so what’s done is done.”
“I loved you.”
My arms fall to my sides and I sigh. Looking down, I bring my bottom lip in and scrape my teeth across and releasing while I think about what I want to say and how. “Look, I cared about you. A lot. That’s what hurt so much.”
“I apologized back then. I’ll apologize now. I’m sorry. I screwed up. You were the best thing I had in my life and I fucked it up. I’m sorry.”
Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, I say, “Thank you.” He hands me a business card. “What is this?” I look down and read it. “Since when do musicians start carrying business cards?”
“Since the band announced the next tour is their last. We’re breaking up. I’m producing now. I’d like to work with The Resistance.”
I hand the card back to him, offended this was all a ploy to get to my husband. “Then you need to talk to them. I can’t get you an in.”
“You can. You just don’t want to.”
Shrugging, I say, “Maybe that’s it too, but I don’t make band decisions or even have a say, and I’m not going to start now.”
I walk around him, but he takes my arm, stopping me. “I bought you a ring.” My mouth opens and he says, “I was going to ask you to marry me, but I had a breakdown. I freaked out inside. We were twenty-one. Way too young.”
Freeing my arm, I look down as old hurt comes back like the boyfriend who once stabbed me in the back. I shrug, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“It matters to me that you know the truth.”
“The truth doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Does knowing I still have the ring?”
“Knowing you still have the ring just makes me sad for some reason.” I glance to the door and back to him. “I need to go. That really is a business meeting, an important one, that I need to return to.”
“Okay.”
I start to leave again, but this time I stop and turn back. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I lied before. The truth does matter.”
He nods and I turn back around and go inside.
When I sit back down at the table, I see Kiefer join his party in the corner. While I make my apologies to Cliff and Jason, I watch him down his drink, pretending that what just happened didn’t affect him like it did. I still know him well enough to see past the pretenses.
The waitress arrives and I order the special. From time to time, I can sense Kiefer watching me, but I keep my eyes on my dinner companions. We talk about the extensive line they want to carry from Limelight and wanting me to endorse it with an ad campaign. I drink the one glass of champagne but no more. I like to be alert when discussing business. By the end of our meal, I say, “No numbers have been mentioned. Do you want to talk about it or would you prefer to send something over this week?”
“Let’s enjoy dessert and we’ll send the numbers over this week,” Cliff suggests. “How did your photoshoot go?”
“It went well. The delay was hard to work around and we lost some key elements, but I think we more than made up for it.”
Jason asks, “Have you modeled before?”
“Not professionally. I’ve done some stuff with the company as the face of Limelight, but this was different being a model in the campaign, playing a role, and taking direction.”
“Does your husband play an active role in the company?” Cliff asks.
“No. I started it years before I met him. I’m living my passion and he’s living his. We’re both fortunate to be able to do that.”
“Any plans for kids?” he asks, making me uncomfortable.
“One day,” I answer. My tone is clipped, though I didn’t mean it to be. “I should probably get going.” I look around for the waitress, but I don’t see her.
Jason says, “Dinner’s on us.”
“Thank you. It’s been a really nice evening.” I stand with my purse in hand. “I look forward to working with you. Hopefully we’ll get the finances in order so we can make that happen.”
Jason stands and takes my hand. “It was a very nice night.”
While waiting on the sidewalk for the valet to pull my car around, Kiefer comes out with an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He smiles and pulls the cigarette from between his lips. “Meeting went well?”
“Yes. It went well. Did you have a nice dinner?”
“I did.” He lights the cigarette and inhales deeply. “I always knew you’d do well.”
Smoke circles above his head and by the kind smile, I’m almost convinced he might not be that bad. “Thank you.”
“Not only a successful businesswoman, but married to a superstar. Impressive. How’d you two meet?”
“We had a one-night stand in Vegas.” I smirk, cocking an eyebrow up. “That led to two nights and phone calls, trips to see each other and lots of great sex.”
“Apparently,” he says, taking my bluntness in stride. “You were always beautiful, Holli.”
That wipes the smile from my face, making me suddenly feel shy under his attention. “That’s very nice of you to say.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t all bad then, but I’m different now.”
Stepping closer, I lower my voice so only he hears instead of all the valet drivers. “You weren’t that bad. But when you were… that was hard to get past.”
“Well I’m single if you ever want to hang out,” he throws the offer out so casually.
“That’s not gonna happen, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Understandable.” He tosses his half-smoked cigarette to the ground as my car is parked in front of me. “Maybe our paths will cross again.”
I don’t try to reassure of him or make niceties over a future get together. I’m glad tonight happened though. It’s good to put your demons to rest. I say, “Take care of yourself, okay?”
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he nods and watches as I tip the valet and climb into the driver’s seat. In my rearview mirror, he stays where I left him, watching as I drive away.
I’m exhausted from the whirlwind week and it’s only half over. I want to climb into bed when I get home and sleep for days. It won’t be the same without Dalton, but I’m hoping to find sleep fast anyway. I need to call Tracy and update her, so I do it while I’m driving. The Bluetooth connects and she answers, “Hey Hols, how’d it go?”
“We have a deal if we want one,” I reply.
Her voice goes up an octave. “That’s fantastic! Great job. I knew you could do it.”
“I don’t know if I did anything. Seems they already had made up their mind before I got there.”
“The brands’ success sold them on the product. You sealed the deal.”
Leaning my head back, I smile as I drive. “Do you remember Kiefer?”
There’s a long pause, then she asks, “Your Ex Kiefer?”
“The one and only. He came over to the table. We went outside and talked.”
“About?”
“About our breakup. And he wants me to hook him up with the band. The Mattresses are breaking up after the next tour. He’s producing now.”
“What the hell?”
“It was all weird and brought up those old angry feelings I used to have, but then it was… I don’t know, okay. I was okay.”
“You’re in a better place. That’s why.”
Dalton pops into my head and I smile. “It’s funny how seeing an Ex can remind you how good you have it now.”
“Sometimes we have to go through the bad stuff to get to the good stuff.”
“I guess so.” I turn down a street and slow for a stop sign ahead. “Anyway, I called because I wanted to share the good news about the deal. Let me know if you see anything come through. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“We have a busy day, so be ready.”
“I’m ready. I’m going home and going straight to bed.”
She laughs. “Yes, get some rest. It’s been a crazy few days. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye.”
“Night.”