Best Of Everything (31 page)

“How are we going to make this work? Every day apart is torture.”

“I know. I want to talk to Terry tomorrow. I have some ideas.”

“Didn’t you already try that?”

“Yeah, but that was before I was number two in the whole frigging country. I’d say that has to count for something, right?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

I pull him up and we walk to the waiting berries. He looks around the room. “This feels totally decadent.”

I nod. “I’m okay with decadent.”

“She paid for a private jet to get me here. That had to cost, like, what, ten grand? And this suite…”

“I’d pay double that for you, handsome.”

He smiles. “We’ve come a long way from the streets, huh?”

“A long, strange trip,” I agree.

“This still feels completely out there. Like I’m going to wake up and find it was all a fantasy.”

I tiptoe and kiss him on the lips. “As long as you’re still mine when we wake up, I’d be fine with that.”

“I’m yours, Sage. Got the tattoo to prove it.”

I smile, glance around, and then open my robe and let it slide to the floor.

“Let’s go see what that bed can do.”

Chapter 38

We spend the next day and a half together, mostly in Derek’s suite and then my room, emerging only when we need to eat. Derek is like an ocean of plenty for me, and perhaps the knowledge that he’s leaving in just a few hours fuels my passion. Whatever it is, we’re in a dream state, hours lasting days, any sense of time lost.

When I kiss him for the last time at the airport, I can hardly control my voice.

“I guess I’ll see you in a week,” I manage.

He stares deep into my eyes and pulls me tight against him. “I’ll be with you every moment of it. And we’ll be together again before you know it.”

“Bullshit. This will take forever.”

“It’ll only seem that way.”

I shake my head, frustrated. “Was this all worth it?”

He looks around the terminal, then down at me with bottle green eyes, and nods. “Yes, Sage, it was. We found each other, and we have a better future. Everything else is noise. Just remember that. It’s all noise.”

“Pretty frigging loud.”

He laughs. “Yeah. But if you listen hard, you can hear my heartbeat, and I can hear yours. That’s all that matters.”

My lips lock on his and we breathe in time, arms around each other, my tongue entwined with his. And then he pulls away, shifting the shoulder strap of his duffel.

“I really gotta go. I’m already late…”

“They couldn’t have gotten you a private plane for the trip back, too?”

“I’ll take that up with the complaint department.” He holds up his boarding pass. “See you in Kansas City.”

“You’ll be in the top twenty by then.”

“I’m already on top of the world. The rest is just gravy.”

He starts walking away and I rush to him and hug him one last time. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know. But the show must go on.”

“The show sucks sometimes.”

“Like now.”

“Yup.”

He brushes the faint tracing of a tear off my face and adjusts my incognito hat. “Goodbye, Sage.”

I swallow hard. “Bye, Derek.”

I watch him walk away, his stride easy, his baseball cap and shades making him look like just another anonymous traveler. And then he’s entering the security area and I’m walking to the exit, wishing I could follow him instead of going back to my world. I know it’s only a week, but I’m tired of living apart from him, and I’m not happy about it.

My phone vibrates as I step out into the clear desert sun. I glance at the screen – it’s Jeremy.

“Don’t you answer your phone anymore?” he asks, his tone testy.

“Uh, this would be me answering it.”

“Don’t get all technical on me.” He pauses, and his tone moderates to the familiar Jeremy. “So how was your birthday?”

“It was super awesome with extra scoops of awesome on it.”

“Oh, my word. There can only be one reason for that kind of reaction.”

“Derek flew in as a surprise. I’m at the airport. He just left.”

“And you can both still walk?”

“Happy New Year to you, too, Jeremy.”

“It is a happy one. I have news!”

I stop at the back of the cab line, waiting my turn. “What?”

“My guy? Eric?”

“You didn’t cave, did you?”

“I have the strength of ten divas, dahling. Of course I didn’t cave.” He hesitates. “He left his wife. Told her everything.”

I stare at my phone. “Oh. My. God.”

“I’m not going to say it was easy. I mean, she totally freaked and wants a divorce, of course. And her father fired him, after threatening to kill him.”

“So they were totally understanding.”

“About what you’d expect. But he doesn’t care.”

“And you two are…together?”

“Yup. He’s out looking for a job. I mean, he’s loaded, but he’s real type A, you know? Mr. Alpha, gotta keep running on the wheel? So he’s trying to land on his feet.”

“You must be excited.”

“I am!”

“Is he staying with you?”

“For the time being. We’ll see how things work out. But I have to say, it’s awfully nice to have him around the house. He even does handyman kinds of things.”

“Did you buy him one of those tool belts?”

“Stop. Although it did occur to me. Maybe a hard hat, now that you mention it.”

“I’m so happy for you, Jeremy. I told you it would work out.”

“You’re never going to let me live down that you were right, are you?”

“This is the only time we’ll ever mention it.”

“So should we talk about how you’re a sensation now?”

“I’d rather not.”

“But my dear, you are. You’re going to have to start attending fashion shows and flying to Milan and appearing in infomercials for orphanages or something.”

“The album’s doing pretty well,” I concede.

“Oh, please. You’re in the big time now.”

“Which, as I’ve been reminded numerous times, can come and go in the blink of an eye.”

He sighs loudly. “Okay, Miss Optimism. But mark my words. This is just the start.” He stops. “When do you and Mr. Thang see each other again?”

“A week. I’m not sure how I’ll make it.”

“Drama time. It’s a week, dahling. Your life’s a dizzy whirlwind. It’ll go by in a flash.”

“I totally broke down when he left. I was practically holding onto his leg.”

“You do have it bad, don’t you?”

“I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Well, I’m obviously not the one to be taking romantic advice from. But you’ll figure it out. Love will find a way. Water will seek its own level. This too shall pass.”

“It’s not like layering clichés makes them more reassuring.”

“The heart wants what the heart wants.”

“Stop it.”

“All you need is love.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Bye, sweetie. Call more often.”

“Will do. You too.”

The cab takes me to the hotel lot, where the buses are parked. We’re headed for Arizona and have six hours to make it to sound check. Nowadays I’d normally fly, but I don’t feel like being alone, so I stow my new backpack and mount the stairs. The band’s already onboard, playing poker, and Jay looks up at me in surprise.

“Whoa. What happened? Wouldn’t let you through security or something?”

“Nah, just thought I’d slum it some.” I get a Diet Coke out of the fridge and sit on one of the sofas. “How was everyone’s day off?”

“Simon lost practically his whole paycheck,” Jay says with a smirk.

“When in Sin City, you bloody ought to roll big,” Simon confirms.

“Which turned out to be a fizzle,” Jay says.

“Hey, at one point I was up three grand, I’ll have you know.”

“Impressive. And what do you have now?” I ask.

He scrounges in his pocket. “Not even enough for a packet of smokes.”

I smile. “That’s probably best. Filthy habit.”

“He has filthier ones,” Jay mutters.

The engine starts and the familiar vibration pulses through the chassis. I take a sip of my soda and glance up at the front of the bus, knowing Derek will be doing much the same within a few hours of touching down in Illinois. For all the pomp and ceremony and the big money in the balance, we’re both minstrels, always on the road, always moving.

Which would be fine if we were doing it together. But not like this.

I press Terry’s speed dial number, and she answers on the third ring.

I clear my throat, and when I speak it’s an adult’s voice, not an adolescent asking for permission.

“Terry? We need to talk.”

Chapter 39

The week’s dragged on, every minute feeling like days, but finally it’s time for Derek to arrive – our first show will be tonight, in Kansas City, with seven more shows over the next ten days throughout the Midwest.

My second single released two days ago and is the number one song in the country. Derek’s first single is at number sixteen and showing no signs of fading. Between the two of us, we’re a big draw, which has been the topic of a lot of discussion between Terry, Saul, and me. In our last conference call I proposed doing a new tour pairing Derek and me as co-headliners, with a third band opening for us. That didn’t go over so well, but I think I’ve negotiated them to where I’ll get my own headlining tour in the next month or two, and Derek will be middle bill.

As long as it gets us together and keeps us that way, I’m all for it. Money’s no longer an issue; my receipts have surpassed every expectation and downloads are huge, so I can make demands now. And my one demand all along has been to get Derek on the tour, one way or another.

The good news is that it looks like it’s finally going to happen.

When his bus rolls into the stadium lot, my pulse increases by ten beats per minute, and when he steps out into the cloudy afternoon, the wind tugging at his unruly hair as he looks around, I almost gasp.

“Derek!” I call from near the stage door. He looks over at me, squinting, and then grins. He begins jogging toward me and I’m flat-out running. When we slam together it’s like one of those movie moments, in his arms, my feet off the ground. Our kiss lasts a solid minute, and when we come up for air, my heart feels like it’s going to explode with joy.

“Hey, you look good,” he says, and kisses me again. I kiss him back and then pull away and study him.

“You don’t look so bad yourself. But you kinda need a haircut.”

“I was thinking maybe going long…”

“I’m sure it’ll look good either way.”

I take his hand, beaming, and escort him into the stadium. “Well, here we are. First show together!”

“You were right, you know,” he says softly.

“About?”

“It did seem like forever.”

We spend the rest of our time snuggling, breaking only for sound check. Derek’s opening the show now, and does so with a bang – I’ve never seen his new band or his stage act except on YouTube, and it’s impressive. Then again, I’m biased, but the audience apparently agrees, and by the time he’s done, they’re screaming his name, demanding an encore. He comes off, wipes sweat from his face with a towel, and gives me a kiss. “They seem all right with that,” he says, and I nod.

“You’re killing it.”

“Until they get a look at you. Hang on, I’ll be right back,” he says, and lopes back out on stage, waving to the crowd as the band prepares for his encore. I watch his confident smile, his control of the audience, and nod. He so easily could have won the contest. It was really just a coin toss that I did.

My set is next; it’s lower key, more laid back. Thankfully, the audience is willing to follow along in the calmer groove, and by the end of my last song they’re cheering. I do two encores, one with Bruno, and when I make it off stage I’m thinking that Derek and I should work up a couple of tunes, too.

Days blend into a week as every night’s the same, a performance followed by a late dinner. The two of us are inseparable, the intensity of what we’re feeling obviously growing as we spend all our time together. It’s not just the sex, which surpasses anything I can imagine, but the companionship – hanging out with Derek, joking with him, just talking about nothing, feels like the most right thing in the whole world.

As the last date together approaches, I’ve got a sinking feeling, knowing we’re going to be separated for another excruciating period. Terry’s put the finishing touches on my headlining tour, which will begin in six weeks, but until then I’m committed to Bruno’s tour and Derek to his.

“But in six weeks we’ll be together all the time. Every night. Even in Europe!” Derek says, trying to reassure me.

“Always six weeks. I hate six weeks. I’m so tired of hearing six weeks.”

“I’ll fly in to see you. You can fly to see me. We’ll make it happen.”

I shake my head. I know I’m being unreasonable. “I want more.”

The day of the last show I have lunch with Helen, who I called since I’m in her neck of the woods. We meet at a dark roadhouse, which smells of grease and smoke, a perfect rendezvous spot – nobody will recognize me in a million years.

She hugs me and we sit on opposite sides of the booth. The menu features big sandwiches, and we both order turkey and Swiss. I sit back once the waiter’s gone, and Helen studies me.

“Congratulations, Sage. Everywhere I turn I see your face or hear one of your songs. That’s amazing.”

“Thanks. It is kind of a trip, isn’t it?”

“Who would have thought…”

“Helen, can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“No, I mean, seriously.”

She nods. “Of course. But that doesn’t mean I’ll know the answer.”

“How do you know when you’ve met the one? I mean, that it’s for real and will last?”

She exhales and eyes me. “Well, I suppose you just know, or maybe it’s that you do whatever it takes to make it work. I wish I could say for certain, but that’s never really happened with me. I mean, there was a guy…but for a whole bunch of reasons, it didn’t pan out. He had his life to chase, and I had mine…”

“Was there ever a moment where you felt like you had to make a decision?”

Helen nods, and when she speaks her voice is quiet. “Yes. And for my entire life I’ve felt like I might have made the wrong one.”