Back to the Top (Ross Records) (3) (22 page)

“I like this girl,” Greta said. Jenny beamed.

“Thanks for that,” I said, shifting in my chair. “It’s sort of a shame, though. I did like Mildred and George. But, I guess that I can’t blame them. They don’t know the entire story and aren’t about to get it from Brad.”

“Nope,” Jenny agreed.

“I’d like to kick him in the balls,” Cammy said as she rose from her chair to refill everyone’s wine glasses. I shook my head, opting for water instead. “But that’s just me.”

Everyone laughed as Cammy shot me a wink. I’d missed her so much.

I opened my mouth to say something when my cell phone jangled. Picking it off the table next to me, my heart thrilled to see Jake’s name.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked.

“Not a lot,” he said, his voice hard. “Iz, what did you do?”

“Huh?” I asked taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

His sigh blew across the phone, sounding like a horrid wind storm on my end. I could imagine him running his free hand through his hair. “Rob has a friend at
Rock Weekly
and he called Rob to tell him that someone was trying to sell an article. Actually, it was an interview with you.”

In all the excitement of having Cammy here and then spending an evening with my friends, I’d forgotten about meeting Karen Lange and giving my side of the story.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” I said as I got to my feet. “It completely slipped my mind.”

“So you did give an interview?” he asked. “Iz, I thought we were going to just ignore Brad.”

“I’d love to just ignore him and watch him go away,” I said, slightly perturbed. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen. Besides, he bashed my family and I just wanted to set the record straight.”

He sighed again. “Have you even read this article?”

I entered the office, flipping the light switch with my free hand. Turning on the laptop, I sat down, waiting for the machine to boot up. “I’m about to. Karen said she’d email it to me but I haven’t checked my mail in a couple of days.”

“Iz,” he groaned.

“I know, I know,” I said, cutting off the lecture. “I’ve been busy.”

I logged into my email and found the article from Karen. I opened it, took a deep breath, and then began to read it aloud to Jake.

Gambling. Betrayal. Addiction. Tough words and harsh accusations. These are the things that Isabella Ames has had to face recently. She’s had her life and that of her family’s displayed for all to read in tabloids and she’s listened as gossip show hosts rip her apart.

I knew Isabella all throughout high school and was thrilled when she called, asking if she could tell her side of the story. She stated that she wanted it to appear in a reputable newspaper or magazine. I was happy to help.

Isabella, or Bella as I and many of her friends call her, met for lunch. I only had to ask her one or two questions before she let loose with the whole story.

“Some of Brad [Stanich]’s accusations are true,” Bella told me. “I’m not a perfect person, neither is Jake nor any member of my family. But Brad has definitely stretched the truth about some matters as far as it can go.”

Bella explained to me about her relationship with Jake Johnson, Controlled Environment’s lead singer. She says they met when she was a senior in high school and quickly became friends. That friendship turned into something more and eventually, they fell in love. She spent most of the summer after her senior year with him, including the dark days after his father’s tragic death.

Bella admits that things fell apart after Jake started using cocaine. She asked me not to press for the details of the break-up, stating only that it was mutual and it was the best thing for them both at the time.

“I still loved him, though,” she told me which led me to ask why she became involved with Brad Stanich.

“It was a rough time for my family,” she said. “My grandfather, unfortunately, has a gambling addiction. Yes, he did lose quite a bit of money and my family came together to do all we could to save his law practice. My parents were on the verge of losing their home and everything they had, my grandfather’s health was in danger, and the people who worked in the law firm were about to lose their jobs.”

Bella went on to explain how Brad and Henry Stanich entered the picture, buying the law firm for a “disgustingly low” price.

“My parents were desperate,” she explains. “They took the offer just so they could keep the office afloat.”

Soon, Brad started calling Bella and asking her out. He finally approached her with a plan.

“He told me if I married him, he’d pay off my grandfather’s debts. I was confused and worried and still hurting over Jake. I just agreed to the engagement.”

Bella says it didn’t take her long to realize that she had made a mistake. But Brad wouldn’t let her out of it. He started paying back debts and threatened to sue her ailing grandfather if she left him. She says she was stuck.

I asked her about Brad’s cheating accusations.

“Yes,” she answered. “I did see Jake before I left Brad. We ran into each other and kept in touch. It wasn’t anything romantic at that time – just rekindling a friendship.”

Bella explained how she attended a Controlled Environment concert with Stanich and two friends when Greta Wenslow, Jake’s younger sister and wife to guitarist Matt Wenslow, recognized her and took her back stage.

The story went on to describe how Jake and I met again, how abusive Brad had become, and how I’d suddenly lost my job at the Children’s Center after a tabloid spotted me leaving the hospital when baby RJ was born. It told of how I’d spent that stormy night with Jake and found myself in the tabloids once more, only to have Brad lose control and attack.

At last, Karen asked me about Jake’s rehab and my future with him.

“I’m extremely proud of Jake for fighting and winning his battle with addiction,” Bella said with a smile. “I wish I could’ve been there to fight with him, but the situation at the time wouldn’t allow me. Still, he’s a strong, good person who doesn’t deserve to have his name dragged through the mud as Brad would like to do.

“And as far as our future,” she paused and her smile grew wider. “I’ll never allow anything to come between us again.”

Pausing after I finished, I waited for Jake’s reaction.

“It’s perfect, Iz,” he said. “Can you email it to me? I’d like to show it to Rob.”

“Sure,” I said as I hurriedly sent it to him while still on the phone. “How’s the shoot going?”

“Long,” he said. “I’ll be glad when we’re finished.”

“That’s not like you,” I said. “You’re a workaholic.”

He snorted. “Maybe so, and the video we’re working on now isn’t so bad. It’s the one we’re doing next that’s causing all the stress. No one can agree on anything.”

“Wow,” I said.

“I know,” he said, exhaustion creeping into his voice. “But it’ll work out somehow. Don’t worry about it.”

I hated how tired he sounded, wishing I could be there to make sure he was getting the rest he needed. But Jake was Jake and he loved to work. No one, not even me, would be able to get him to take a break if he wasn’t ready.

After a few more minutes, we ended the call. Printing out the article, I took it outside for the others to read.

“Good, Bella,” Greta said, her eyes fierce. “You need to tell your side of the story.”

“You do,” Cammy said. “Don’t let Brad get away with dirtying your name.”

Jenny bit her lip as she handed the printout back to me. Lifting a shoulder, she sat back in her chair. “I agree that you need to tell your side, but I just worry that he’ll retaliate somehow.”

“You think so?” Cammy asked.

“I think he probably will,” I said. “I thought about it while I was giving the interview, but I can’t back down. I can’t let him always win or else he’ll be a part of my life forever.”

“Yes, but,” Jenny said as she fiddled with her wine glass, “I worry if he’s stable. I mean, he went berserk and hit you. What’s to stop him from coming after you again?”

“As long as I’m here, I’m safe,” I said, hoping that I sounded far more confident than I felt.

The party broke up around midnight and each of the girls found a room where they could sleep, since they’d all had far too much wine to drive.

Sitting on the middle of the bed, I contemplated the conversation about the interview. I wondered if what Jenny had said was true. I thought that I knew Brad better than she did, but, after what had happened the night that I left, I realized that I probably didn’t know him at all.

“I wonder if there were other girls,” I mumbled to the dog sprawled on the rug next to the bed. He twitched but didn’t even lift his head. “I wonder if he was ever rough with them or even abusive.”

Shaking my head, I decided not to dwell on it. No need to psych myself out over something that I wasn’t even sure of.

Pulling back the blankets, I climbed into bed. I’d talk to Jake about it when he got home. Maybe.

The next morning, after a late breakfast, Jenny and Greta left, promising to do it again, soon. I took Cammy out to my flower gardens, asking her opinion. She gave me several ideas which prompted a trip to the garden center to purchase accent plants.

We spent the afternoon working in the yard, conversation constantly flowing. Her interview was the following day and her anxiety was quite evident, even though the Human Resources Director at the aquarium had assured her it was mostly just a formality – that she’d pretty much already had the job.

That night, we fixed salads and turkey wraps for dinner, opting to eat in the kitchen. We cleaned up when we finished and then retired to the living room to watch a movie. With Cammy’s interview looming over her head, we decided to call it a night early and retire.

I, though, couldn’t sleep. I wandered out to the balcony, dressed only in one of Jake’s t-shirts, and watched the moonbeams dance off the ripples in the pond. In the distance, I could hear the insects bellow their nightly songs and watched a creature scamper across the grounds. I was quite certain it was a raccoon and hoped that the garbage can lids were secure.

As I was pondering this, my cell phone rang, dragging me back inside in the hopes that it was Jake. Without a glance at the screen, I answered the call, a soft smile on my face.

“Hello?”

“You bitch.”

My blood chilled as I gripped the phone tightly in my hand. “Brad?”

“Who the hell do you think you are, trying to sully my name?” he growled.

Taking a breath, I blew it across the phone. “I wasn’t trying to sully anyone’s name. I was trying to set the record straight.”

“With lies?” he said with a chuckle that prickled my spine. “I used to think that you were a straight-forward, honest person, but now your true colors are coming out. You lied to me, telling me you loved me and wanted to marry me while running around, sleeping with that drug addict. You go to the newspaper, saying I abused you when all I did was help your family out of a deep hole and give you everything you could ever want. I was willing to give you a wonderful life – be a loving husband and father beautiful children – but you threw it all away.”

I let him rant, not wanting to antagonize him anymore. I hoped that after he had his say, he’d leave me alone. Perhaps it was better this way – to hash it out over the phone rather than in newsprint.

“I’m the laughingstock at the club. Everyone knows that you were cheating on me. Everyone knows that you left me for a sleazy, drug addicted, rock star. Everyone looks at me with pity while inside they are laughing.”

“No one is laughing at you, Brad,” I sighed, hoping he’d end his rant soon. I was tired. And a little unnerved.

“You don’t know!” he screamed. “You’re not here to witness it. You’ve left me here to pick up the pieces and try to heal my wounds.”

Wounds? I wanted to ask, but didn’t. He was so full of it but unfortunately, he seemed to believe everything he was saying.

“I’m sorry, Brad,” I said in as gentle a voice as I could muster. “Things just weren’t working between us and I had to leave.”

“You’ll pay for this, you lying, cheating bitch,” he said in a low, dangerous tone. “You’ll pay.”

He ended the call, leaving me holding my phone. My breath came a little faster and I had to suck it in slowly to control it.

Finally, I set my phone on the nightstand and crawled into bed, pulling the sheets to my chin.

It wasn’t over at all.

Eighteen

When the sun kissed my cheeks the next morning, gently nudging me out of slumber, urging me to greet the day, I’d forgotten all about the phone call from the previous night. I jumped out of bed, threw on a pair of yoga pants under my long t-shirt, and padded downstairs for coffee.

On the kitchen table was a note scribbled in Cammy’s scrawl, reminding me that she was at her interview, thanking me for allowing her to use the car, and asking me to cross my fingers.