Chapter Twenty-Three
We were celebrating our first Thanksgiving being married. I knew Garrick had some updates with regard to Navarro, but I wanted to wait until after Thanksgiving to hear it. I wanted to stay in my bubble. It was important to me to have a good first Thanksgiving and Christmas as a married couple. As a kid, I always dreamed about the holidays with my husband. They weren’t filled with death threats and kidnappings.
I opened the oven to check on the pies; they were perfectly done.
I looked at the time. Garrick would be done soon. This morning, he’d been doing some work. Falling off the grid for our honeymoon had come with a price. But each night we made time for each other. In those moments, nothing else mattered.
Ever since Sawyer’s parents had declined his offer, I’d kicked my baking into overdrive. They had declined the offer, which shocked Garrick. The information regarding the snowmobile accident had been delivered…yet still they refused.
How deep are they in?
It worried me. And I knew it perplexed Garrick.
Any contact between me and the Wades had to stop—at least for the time being. Somehow, I had to keep it an organic feeling so it didn’t hurt Sawyer. At least Sawyer and Cameron seemed to be uninvolved in any of it.
It was hard. I knew Sawyer expected her family to be invited over to Garrick’s for Thanksgiving. But there was no way that was happening.
I pulled out my phone to look at the text messages again. Sawyer’s parents had no idea I knew about their business dealings.
Tonya: Do you and Garrick want to join us Thanksgiving eve? Christopher wanted me to make sure you knew you were invited.
Me: Thanks, but we can’t. We’ll have to get together soon.
Tonya: That would be lovely. We haven’t been able to congratulate you on the marriage.
Me: That’s so sweet. We’ll definitely have to get together soon. Miss you guys.
Tonya: Sounds wonderful. Congrats, Knoah!
But that was impossible since they had dealings with Navarro.
I closed my eyes, remembering the picture I found on Garrick’s desk of Christopher pulling into Navarro’s compound yesterday. Garrick had begun to explain, but I just didn’t want to face it the day before Thanksgiving. Tomorrow.
Kurt clapped his hands together as he entered the kitchen, interrupting my thoughts. Today, “Lost” was being released on the radio for the first time. “It’s almost time. Are you ready?”
“Yes, can’t wait.”
The band gave one of the satellite radio stations the right to release the song twelve hours early. Tomorrow it would be everywhere.
I put the lid on my pie carrier and opened the vent so they wouldn’t sweat too much.
“Yum. Are those pumpkin?” Kurt asked.
“I have two pumpkins, one apple, and one salted caramel.”
At the counter, Kurt was opening containers with other baked goods I’d made yesterday. “I like Baking Knoah. Feel free to keep up this trend. You’ve become Betty Motherfuckin’ Crocker. I didn’t even know you could cook like this.”
I looked up and noticed Garrick standing at the door, a slight frown on his face. I brightened my expression, not wanting to dampen the day. “We’re almost ready to go after we listen to the song.”
“Mom said dinner should be on time.” There was still something off about him. I tilted my head, considering. And like that, the concern left his expression. Maybe work had been stressful.
Another timer went off. “Let me get these cookies out of the oven.” I pulled them out and placed them on the cooling rack next to the already cooled ones.
Kurt walked over, and I noticed he wore a shirt that said Save the Turkey. “Are these the mint chocolate chip ones you tried on me this week?”
“They are. I made some more.” He grabbed one from the cooling rack, and I smacked his hand. “These are for Suzette’s house. By the way, nice shirt.”
With a mouth full of cookie, he grinned. “Sawyer hates it. So, mission accomplished. Oh, and she may be slightly grumpy today.”
“Why is that?”
“I put a recorded turkey call in her bedroom and the living room last night. It played all night long. It’s part of my Save the Turkey campaign.”
I gasped. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did.”
“I’m not responsible when she strikes back and gets you good.”
Kurt shrugged. “I have a feeling this is the worst she’s got.”
“Let’s just say…I warned you.”
Sawyer had left for her parents’ about an hour earlier. Due to the circumstances with Tonya and Christopher, I hadn’t offered to invite them. Kurt’s mom had gone to visit her sister in the hospital, so she was out of town.
I focused back on Garrick. “Did you finish what you needed to get done?”
“I did.”
With four cookies in his hand, Kurt walked out to the living room to turn on the radio. “Two minutes.”
Garrick and I followed.
Kurt tuned the channel to the right station. The announcer came on. “Thanks for tuning in. We have a special treat for you today with a little bit of a mystery. Kurt Hendrix with Reverence has given us a twelve-hour exclusive for his new song, ‘Lost.’ Less than a month ago, it went viral. And here it is, better than ever. All I can say is—I need to find out who this woman Keira is.”
“Keira?” Kurt asked. “Who the fuck are they talking about?”
If Kurt had no idea what was going on, it probably meant bad news. Garrick paid more attention to the announcer and turned up the radio. “Without further ado, here’s Kurt and Keira singing ‘Lost.’ Remember where you heard it first.”
The familiar guitar sounds started, followed by Kurt’s voice, just as the band had rehearsed. Then my voice came over the radio.
“What the fuck?” Kurt grabbed his phone. “Waldo, what the fuck is that playing on the radio? No, she never gave permission. What? That was my private booth time. What the fuck? Yes, I made payment. I’ll do that.” He hung up. “Son of a bitch.”
Our voices continued to play throughout the room. I’m on the radio. Garrick remained silent while my heart felt like it was pounding through my chest. “Why do they have a recording of me?”
Kurt threw his phone down, and it skittered across the coffee table. “The label fucked us over. They said with the waiver you signed, it states they can use anything recorded in your presence. It was a setup. Someone was in the studio recording without us knowing.”
The booth had been black. I’d watched everyone leave.
“How’d they know you were going to be singing with Knoah?” Garrick asked, still calmer than I imagined he’d be.
“I bought some time in the studio before we started recording with the band. Said we were going to have some fun and karaoke. I guess they gambled we would sing it together.” Kurt looked my way. “Knoah, I swear I had nothing to do with this.”
“I know you didn’t.”
Garrick ran his hand through his hair, the aggravation seeping out now. “We need to get a copy of the waiver. See what can be done to sort this out.”
“Waldo said he would e-mail it to me. I’ll forward it to you.”
Garrick put his hand on my back. “We’ll look it over and see what can be done. At least they kept her identity secret.”
Kurt’s phone rang. “That’s the band. Let me take this.” He connected the call. “Yes, I know. I’ve been on the phone with Waldo. The label fucked us over. I had no idea. No, she wants no part in this. Thanks. I’ll tell her. Will do.”
“What’d the band say?” I asked. The last thing Kurt needed was issues with them. The label knew this, too. It was as though they were trying to cause a fight.
Kurt responded, “Wanted to know if I was going solo. They’re pissed, too, with how it’s being marketed. But they said you sounded sick.”
“Tell them thanks.”
Kurt checked his phone. “You have the waiver now, Garrick. I’m forwarding it to my lawyer, as well. The band wants away from the label if they’re going to pull this shit. I’ll meet you guys over at your parents’. I need to make a few calls.”
“Thanks, Kurt. I’ll see you over at Suzette’s.”
Garrick remained quiet after he left. I reiterated, “You know Kurt had nothing to do with it.”
Not too long ago, Kurt and Garrick had been at odds with each other. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of that.
Sitting on the edge of the couch, Garrick brought me to him. “Yes. I don’t doubt that.”
“My name was kept secret.”
He raised his eyebrow. “For now. I’ll have my attorneys work on issuing a gag order. And then we’ll figure out the next move.”
This was the exact reason I hadn’t asked for updates. It seemed like at every corner, we faced more drama. I just wanted to get through Thanksgiving. Was that too much to ask?
I scooted into his lap and ran my hands over his scruff. “Let’s not worry about this right now. It will be waiting for us when we get back from your parents’. I want us to enjoy our first Thanksgiving together.”
“The first of many, sweetheart.”