CHAPTER NINE
Nobody asked me how I was. Nobody talked about Derrick’s release from jail. Nobody mentioned the increase in security around the theater. And I was glad. Avoiding all conversations suited me just fine. I kept my phone off, ignoring Nena and Ivy and anyone else who wasn’t part of the show. My world was the theater and Gracin. It kept the nightmares at bay and my sanity intact.
Gracin’s demands over the next few days didn’t give me time to do anything other than work. Whether he upped his diva attitude or just wanted to keep my mind off what had happened, I had no clue. Three days after the whole Derrick thing had gone down, we prepared for a commercial at eight in the morning in his dressing room. Dad wanted to increase the advertising to sell out the rest of Gracin’s summer run. Basically, I stood on the sidelines and waited for someone to tell me to get something. It was pretty boring.
My conversations with Gracin focused on scheduling and wardrobe. Hell, we weren’t alone enough to talk lately. The morning runs were the only time Gracin and I had to ourselves. Even then, we only discussed business. I kind of missed him. It was weird. He ran alongside me, but it was like he was already on the other side of the country.
I stood in my usual spot while the film crew did their thing. Gracin shifted from foot to foot when the camera wasn’t recording. More than one time I noticed his eyebrows battle it out. Toward the end of the two-hour shoot, Gracin had to fight to keep his hand from running through his hair. Not that it would’ve gotten very far with all the product in it.
Dad escorted the film crew out, leaving Gracin alone on stage. He stood under the middle light, with his hands on his hips and his head tilted up as if he was relishing the sun. Someone shut off the rest of the stage lights, leaving him basking in the spotlight.
A crackle echoed through the empty theater, and a static-filled voice followed it. “I’m shutting down, Mr. Ford. Will you be here much longer?”
“Yeah, Mitch,” Gracin answered. “I’ll get the light. Just leave a note by it so I hit the right one this time.”
“Yes, Mr. Ford. Will do.” Mitch, the lighting and technical director, turned off the remaining lights in the seats and along the rows, leaving that one light on Gracin and the emergency exit lights. Color me impressed. Mitch never let anyone into his control room alone.
Gracin disappeared into the shadows for several seconds and returned with his grandfather’s acoustic guitar and the stool they’d used during the shoot. He half sat, half stood by the stool, and gently pulled the guitar strap over his shoulder. His face softened, and the boy inside the man appeared.
My breathing slowed as I tried to remain inconspicuous. He didn’t know I stood offstage and I didn’t want him to. My gut told me the real Gracin Ford was about to emerge, the one I’d only seen glimpses of on rare occasions.
His fingers moved over the strings, caressing the first chords from the instrument. The air filled with sorrowful notes reverberating through my chest. The intro fell away as Gracin’s voice slipped into a deep tenor with a slight country twang. Each note wrapped itself around my chest, squeezing my insides into a ball of want.
No regrets, that’s what she said
No promises, no goodbyes,
This is the moment for us,
Every second we melted
Every moment we seized,
By morning, she disappeared.
Amazed, intrigued, and totally needing more, I stepped onto the stage and cautiously made my way toward him. He was so lost in his music, he didn’t see or hear me approach. As I limped closer, I realized he’d closed his eyes. The final strings sounded from the guitar, and his eyes opened. He jumped off the stool away from me, and I smiled gently.
“Jesus, Carly, don’t sneak up on a guy.” He clutched his chest with one hand and the neck of the guitar in the other.
“Sorry, I just …” Why had I snuck up on him? Because I’d wanted him to keep singing. No, I needed him to keep singing. “Why don’t you add that song to your show?”
Gracin laughed, but there wasn’t anything funny about it. “You really think Albert would allow that?”
I watched his face, waiting for any kind of expression or emotion to take over the blank stare he’d adopted whenever he mentioned his father. “It’s your show, Gracin. And that … That was amazing.”
His lips quirked in a half-smile before falling into a frown. “It’s not my show, Carly, you know that. But thank you. Knowing you don’t think I totally suck means a lot.”
My eyes widened, but he’d already dropped his gaze to the floor. Without even looking at me, Gracin strolled off the stage. My jaw locked as I tried to figure out what just happened. I never said he sucked, only the show. If he didn’t consider it his show, whose was it?
Gracin’s voice hollowed out a space in my chest and rooted itself there. The song went on replay in my head. I remembered every single word. Growing up around music, especially country music, I was incredibly picky about what I listened to. If a song didn’t fill me with any kind of emotion the first time I heard it, I wouldn’t listen to it again. Gracin’s song did something so rare, so unusual. Every emotion imaginable had swelled as his voice caressed those lyrics—even now they did. I wanted and needed to know who, if anyone, inspired it.
My stomach rolled. I didn’t want anyone to have inspired such a sad song, such a loving song, such a lonely song. I didn’t want him to still be in love with her.
∞ ∞ ∞
I stood on the stage with those thoughts running through my mind until the light went out above me. My eyes adjusted as the emergency lights illuminated enough for me to find my way backstage. By the time I got to Gracin’s dressing room, he was gone. A note taped to the wardrobe planned the rest of my afternoon. Most of the stuff didn’t need to be done today, but it was pretty obvious he wanted to avoid me. Especially when the last line read, “See you at showtime.”
The errands took me right up to dinner. Usually, we’d eat an hour before he went on, but he’d made it clear that wasn’t happening tonight. Or did he? I read the note again to be sure. It didn’t say anything about dinner, and we’d always eaten together. For some reason, an inkling in my brain told me he couldn’t fend for himself. I hurried back to the theater and up to his dressing room with his favorite cucumber avocado rolls.
When I opened the door, he sat on the floor beside Gloria with a full spread of Gracin’s favorite foods in front of them. My breath caught in my throat, followed closely by a lump the size of Texas.
“Can I help you?” Gloria’s smile spread across her face with the glee of a child on Christmas morning.
“I … uh …” Words were no longer my friends. I met Gracin’s stare. There wasn’t anything behind his eyes. Over the last few weeks, I’d pretty much learned to read this guy. His emotions were always present in his eyes. They weren’t always clear, but they were there. It was like staring at a blank movie screen waiting for the show to start.
“Did you need something?” Gloria asked again.
The stifling heat in the room overwhelmed my senses, but I somehow managed to recover enough of myself to answer. Smiling at Gloria, I said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Mr. Ford had dinner plans, so I brought him some food.” I stepped farther into the room and slid the cucumber avocado rolls in front of him. Gloria clapped her hands and squealed. I didn’t hide the eye roll. “I’ll leave you be.”
I spun on my heel, slamming the door behind me hard enough to rattle the lights above the stage. Hurrying down the hall, down the stairs, and out the side door, I fought back the tears filling my eyes. There wasn’t any reason to be this upset. Gracin Ford was a job. Nothing more. Nothing less. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten that. I’d let a few moments of something more get in the way of reality.
A quick glimpse at the clock told me I had an hour to kill before work. I hopped on my scooter, wishing for the millionth time it was a Harley, and sped off for a little fun.
It only took me fifteen minutes to get to ZipLine tours. The line was out of control, but I had an in. I strolled over to Denny George and put on my best smile. He glanced up at me and grinned like a starving man seeing a steak. Denny had graduated two years ago and spent the summers working for his dad. We’d hooked up last summer after a link in my harness had slipped, making my body less protected than it should’ve been. Talk about a rush.
“Hey, Carly. Long time, no see.” He didn’t hide the fact he was checking out every inch of my body, which I knew he wished he’d explored completely. We’d gotten pretty close, but it took a lot before I’d sleep with a guy. Unless I trusted them, they didn’t get laid. “Looking for a rush?”
I could tell by his expression what he actually meant. “Yeah, but I’ve got to get on quick. Help a girl out?”
“I dunno. What’re you doing later?” His fingers danced over the black straps in his hands.
“Hmmm …” I tapped my finger against my chin. Hanging with Denny for a few hours wasn’t a terrible idea. “Well, text me after ten. The show will be over by then and I’ll know more.” I smiled with parted lips for good measure. A little sultry never hurt. It was time to get back in the groove.
“Alright, darling, let’s get you harnessed.” Denny motioned toward the steps and led me past a couple who’d been next in line. They shot me dirty looks, but Denny held them off. “Sorry, folks. Ms. Reynolds had a reservation in advance. You’ll be on the next line.”
That seemed to pacify them.
Denny jabbered nonstop, but I stopped listening. My brain wouldn’t shut down. The events from this past week wove through my mind like silk. It was almost surreal. The whole thing with Derrick shook me to the core, but fending off his attack was an ending more than anything else. He was outed for what he was. The guilt, the hatred, would always stay with me, but the secret didn’t weigh me down. Even if I saw him tomorrow, I wouldn’t be terrified anymore. Then there was Gracin. I liked him, and it bothered me. Obviously, he was a lonely guy looking to hang with anybody. Why else was he so interested in being around my friends? And the way he’d held me after Derrick attacked me. Gracin had been gentle, caring, almost loving. Something stirred inside me. I didn’t know what it was, and I didn’t want to either.
“Okay, you’re good to go,” Denny said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
My mouth was dry so I offered a thumbs-up.
Denny leaned close to my ear. “Don’t forget about later. I’d like to finish what we started last summer, Carly. I regret we haven’t had a chance until now.”
I shuddered, and not in a good way. Even if he texted me later, I’d decline. His warm breath had been great last year, but it felt cold and unforgiving as he whispered. I just needed to clear my mind, get a rush, and then I’d be able to figure everything out.
“Go on three.” Denny counted, and I pushed off the platform at the designated time.
The black straps dug into my butt as I slowly picked up speed. A few seconds in and all I could think of was the way my heart slammed in my chest, the way the air whipped through my hair, the feeling of flying through the air with nobody to stop me. No Luke. No Gracin. Nobody.
The answer hit me then.
Gracin had sung about it, and Denny mentioned it. The answer to my problems.
I never wanted to look back on any part of my life and regret any more decisions I’d make. Good or bad. I didn’t want to look back and wonder “what if I didn’t do x, y, or z.” I wanted to be able to say “at least, I tried.”
No regrets.
That was the answer to everything.