Cardinal (22 page)

Popping the top to my can, I ask, “Where’s
Roxanne?”

The boys look at one another and shrug. “I
thought she was with you,” Dean says, looking toward the back of the bus.

“Nope.” I lift the curtain to her bunk. “She’s
not here.”

“Well, your guess is as good as mine.” He turns
back to the television. Paul’s found ESPN and they’re recapping a Detroit
Tigers game from earlier today.
Go team,
I silently think in support of
my home state.

I set my drink down and open my backpack,
locating the cozy clothes I left out of my suitcase. I walk to the bathroom and
change, then brush my teeth and wash my face. I pull my hair back in a loose
pony. It takes almost thirteen hours to get from Denver to Dallas, and that’s
if we don’t stop. When I fall asleep tonight, I want to crash without having to
wake up and wiggle out of tight jeans.

Just as I settle in my bunk with my guitar
across my lap, I hear Roxanne’s excited voice from the front of the bus. I lean
to the side and stick out my head to see what’s going on.

“Just make yourself comfortable; we have plenty
of room,” she gushes. “Boys. Ariel will be joining us for our drive. Please try
not to be rude.”

My eyes widen as I see Ariel standing behind
Rox. She’s hanging on to a small rolling suitcase with one hand and a large
Coach purse, more like a duffle, with the other.

“There’s no need to lecture the guys,” Ariel
says. “They know me and I know all of them. We’re like family.”

Dean leans forward in his seat. “What’s going
on?  Is everything all right?”

Ariel rolls her eyes. “Just some dancer drama
that I don’t care to be a part of.”

“Then kick them the fuck off your bus,” Paul says
with a wave of his beer. “That’ll show ‘em. Not that I care you’re here.” He
grins. “If we have to be family, we can we be distant cousins by marriage and
share a bunk.”

Ariel laughs and Roxanne glares at Paul before
turning to our guest with a forced smile. “Anyway,” she says, “we have three
available beds. Two next to Jen and I, and one next to dipshit over there.” She
jerks her thumb in Paul’s direction. “Take your pick.”

“Thank you so much,” Ariel says as she starts
to follow Rox toward me. “I couldn’t take the bitching anymore. My moods
haven’t been the best lately. If I stay, it will only make things worse.”

Roxanne nods with empathy. When the two of them
make it to me, Ariel smiles. “Hello again. I hope you don’t mind me crashing
your party.”

I shake my head. “Not at all. It’s your tour.”

Ariel selects the bottom bunk directly behind
mine. She lifts her suitcase on to the bed and then peeks around the corner. “I
was hoping we’d get a chance to talk. You know, get to know one another.”

I can’t stop my confused look. “Why?”

“Jen!” Roxanne scolds me. “If the headliner
wants to speak to you –”

“Rox.” Ariel puts her hand on our manager’s arm.
“It’s random that I’d want to talk to her. Think about it. She’s dating my ex.”

Roxanne goes silent, then focuses on me. “I’m
going to get comfortable, head to the back of the bus, and get lost in a book. Behave.”

She turns on her heel and I look at Ariel. Her
bottom lip disappears between her teeth to suppress a laugh, and I do the same.
She starts to unpack, and I turn back to my guitar.

Time passes and Beau gets the bus underway. An
idea for a new song popped into my head tonight before the show, so I mess
around with notes and lyrics. Everything is gibberish right now, but that’s how
my songwriting usually starts. After a half hour or so of playing around, Ariel
appears by my side. “Is this a bad time?”

My eyes swing to her. She’s changed clothes,
and her dark hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head. With her hair off
her face her features look exotic, something I hadn’t noticed before. “No,” I
say and move back a little. “What’s up?”

She crawls on to my bunk and faces me, crossing
her legs. “Nothing really. Just lonely and bored.” She glances around and her
eyes land on Oliver’s drawing taped to the wall. She smiles. “I bet I know who
made this.”

I’m about to confirm her thoughts when my phone
vibrates. “One sec,” I say and pick it up. It’s a text message from Pete:
Hey,
rock-n-roll queen. Where are you?

I smile.
On a bus in the middle of
nowhere. Where are you?

Home in bed. I should be asleep, but I’m not. I’m
worried out of my mind.

I frown and respond
Why?  Is everything
okay?
 

Three little dots appear on my phone,
indicating he’s typing back. It must be a long message because the dots linger.
I hope nothing is wrong with Jules or our family, although my parents would’ve
called. Great. Now I’m starting to worry, too.

“Who are you talking to?”

I look at Ariel. “My brother. He’s being vague
and annoying.”

“Older or younger?”

“Older.”

Finally his message comes through.
Everything
is fine. I’m awake because I have an expensive diamond ring sitting in my
dresser drawer and NO IDEA HOW TO PROPOSE.

“Is that all?!”  My voice is loud.
You
idiot!
  I send.
You scared me.

Ariel cocks an eyebrow. “Is something the matter?”

I sigh. “My brother needs help coming up with a
way to propose to his girlfriend. They got married in secret and now he’s
backtracking. I told him I would think of some ideas for him, but I’ve fallen
down on the job.”

Ariel shrugs like it’s no big deal. “That’s
easy. Have him do it at a show. Call them up on stage and have him surprise her.
She’ll love it.”

My mouth falls open. It’s so simple it’s stupid.
“How did I not think of that?  Thanks!”  I start rapidly typing while Pete
responds to my idiot comment.

Calm your buns,
I send.
Ariel
Allyn is sitting across from me and she says you can do it on stage.

He replies.
Are you serious???

Yes. You should do it in Detroit, since mom and
dad will be there.
I grin. It’s perfect.

You said Jules deserved epic and this
definitely qualifies. Thank you Jen. Now I can sleep.

I make a face.
Because that’s what’s
important, dork. I’ll get back to you with the details.

No, seriously. Thank you.

You’re welcome.
I set my
phone down.

“Everything good?” Ariel asks.

“Yes. I’ll work out the details with Dean later.
I’ll tell him you said it was okay.”

She smiles. “I’m glad I could help.” Her eyes
go back to Oliver’s picture. “His nephew drew this, right?”

I nod. “Oliver’s a cool little kid.”

“What is he now?  Five years old?”

“Seven,” I say.

She shakes her head. “I can’t believe how much
time has passed.” Her eyes land on my guitar. “So, what are you working on?”

“Not much. I’m just messing around.”

“I used to play, too, before I was told I could
only sing.” She gets sarcastic. “It’s all about the
image.
I should
demand some changes in my next contract.”

I’m surprised. I was under the impression she
could do whatever she wants. “Do you still practice?”

“Not much anymore.” She tips her head. “I’ve
been watching you play. You’re good.”

My cheeks flush. That’s not unusual or anything.
“Um … thanks.”

Ariel smiles, then looks down and studies her
cuticles. “Look, Jen. I’m going to be honest.” Her eyes meet mine again. “I
don’t have many close friends, but I’d like you to be one. When I talked to Latson,
he said you’re good people. I’m thinking of making some changes to my style. I’m
sick of being a pop princess.”

What?  “How can you be sick of success?  I
mean, if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.”

She pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her
arms around them. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. It’s getting old; I’m
twenty-seven. I need to grow as an artist. Hell, I need to grow as a person.”

I’m silent. Does she think I can help?

Ariel sets her chin on her knees and continues.
“I need a fresh perspective. I need to hang around someone normal. Someone who’s
still grounded.”

I’m skeptical. “So, the dancer drama was a
lie?”

“Oh no.” She turns serious. “It’s true. Some of
those girls are straight up bat-shit crazy.”

I snicker as my mind flashes to Heidi. Some of
the groupies are, too.

“Anyway, enough about me.” She lowers her legs
and crosses them in front of her again. “Let’s talk about you. Let me hear
something. Play an original Jen creation.”

Why not?  It’s not every day a pop star asks to
hear your work. The song I wrote in Chicago comes to mind, the one about the
couple on the beach. “Okay,” I say. “This one’s called “Fairytale”. There might
be a few changes, but it goes like this.” I straighten my back, clear my throat,
and strum the strings to find my place:

“When the fairytale ends

When it all falls apart

Who will pick up the pieces

Of our shattered hearts?

It can’t be you

And it won’t be me

Because unlike a fairytale

We were never meant to be.”

 I take my time and play the entire song, stopping
only once when I get tripped up on the second verse. When I finish, Ariel has a
glassy look in her eyes. She blinks to clear it and then quietly says, “Save
that one for me.”

“What?” I don’t know what that means.

“I love it,” she says. “If anyone approaches
you about that song, tell them it’s taken. Tell them you’re saving it for me.”

My eyes grow wide. “You would sing my song?”

She nods. “In a heartbeat. Show me what else
you’ve got.”

“You’ll never guess what the record company did
for us.” I shut the bedroom door so I can talk to Latson in private. “They
upgraded our hotel room to a penthouse. A penthouse!  Can you believe it?”

“That was nice of them.” He sounds doubtful. “I
thought the tour was only in Dallas for two nights.”

“We are. Tonight and tomorrow, then it’s off to
Houston. But, we found out they upgraded us there, too.”

Obnoxiously loud music starts to play from the
interconnected penthouse living and dining rooms. Looks like our guests have
arrived.

“What is that?” Latson asks.

“The party just started.” I roll my eyes. “Dean
and the guys got excited about the space, so they invited everyone to our room
tonight.” To be honest I’d rather curl up in the magnificent bed that’s calling
my name. “Did you know penthouses can have six bathrooms?  And three bedrooms? 
I still have to share with Roxanne, but whatever. At least the guys get to
spread out.”

“I’m not worried about the guys,” Latson
mutters.

I won’t let that comment slide. “What’s wrong?”
I sink down on to the bed and pull one leg beneath me. “You know, when I found
out we’d been upgraded, I thought you did it. I thought maybe you would be
waiting to surprise me.”

He doesn’t respond so I add, “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” he says. “I’m working on
next month’s schedule for Torque and booking the entertainment. Once everything
is confirmed you’ll probably see me.”

“Probably?”

“You’ll definitely see me.”

Suddenly, the bedroom door flies open. Ariel
shuts it behind her in a rush and leans against it. “There you are. I need your
help.”

I’m confused and my face shows it. Latson asks,
“Is someone there?”

“Just Ariel,” I say. Leaning away from the
phone I ask, “What’s up?”

She makes a zipper motion across her lips and
gestures for me to end the call.

“Uh … I gotta go,” I stutter.

“Why?” Latson asks.

Ariel hurries past me and toward the bathroom. “I’m
not sure,” I whisper. “Ariel probably wants to talk.” I told him about last
night’s conversation on the bus. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay?” Now that
we’re in the same time zone it makes things a little easier.

“Okay,” he says, uncertain. “But, Jen …”

“Hmm?”

“Be careful. I don’t like knowing there’s a
bunch of strangers hanging out in your room. Penthouse or no penthouse.”

“Yes, boss,” I say playfully. “Sweet dreams.”

“Only if they’re of you.”

I end the call and walk over to stand in the
bathroom doorway. Ariel is leaning against the counter, fidgeting. “Are you all
right?”

She shakes her head no, then lifts her shirt. A
box is tucked into the waistline of her pants. She pulls it out and shows it to
me. “I can’t do this by myself.”

My eyes consume my face. It’s a pregnancy test.
“Are you sure?”

“Of course not.” Her expression twists. “That’s
kinda the point of taking the test.”

I step toward her. “What I meant was, it’s a
possibility?”

She scowls at the box in her hands. “Unfortunately,
yes. For the record, Zach, one of my dancers, is not gay.”

I close my eyes for a second and then reopen
them. “You had unprotected sex because you thought the guy was gay?”

“No!  I didn’t think we’d end up sleeping
together because I thought he was gay!”

She’s flustered, so I walk further into the
bathroom and shut the door. “Are you late?”

“Ten days.” She bites her bottom lip. “I’ve
also felt off. Emotional and exhausted.”

“You could just be stressed,” I say. “Traveling
and performing aren’t easy.” I reach for the box and she hands it over. I read
the directions. “You have to pee on the stick and wait three minutes. It
doesn’t sound complicated.”

“No,” she says. “The complicated part comes
after.”

I give her a resigned smile, and she takes a
deep breath. “Okay. Let me do this and then I’ll need you to hold my hand.”

I give her the test. “Good luck.”

Her face falls. “Thanks.”

I leave the bathroom and head to the bed to
wait. I can’t believe Ariel might be pregnant. I also can’t believe she feels
close enough to share this with me. There’s no way she can jump around on stage
and fit into a cat suit with a belly. My mind recalls our conversation from
last night; this is probably what she meant when she said she needed to grow as
a person. She could potentially be a mother.

Ariel looks pale when she opens the door. “Three
minutes?”

I grab my phone. “I’m setting the timer now.”

She makes her way over to me and sits down. “Thank
you. I had to tell someone. It was killing me.” I offer her my hand and she
takes it. “I couldn’t say anything to my team. Not yet. If I’m …” She hesitates
to say the word and sighs. “Changes will have to be made.”

We sit in silence as the music from the party
pumps through the walls. I glance at my phone as the timer ticks down slowly. My
stomach starts to knot for her and for us. Dean’s put so much stock into
playing; he’ll be crushed if he has to cut things short.

Squeezing her hand, I ask, “How does that
work?”

“What?”

“The changes.”

She frowns. “There’s a clause in my contract
about medical conditions. Shows can be delayed or postponed, or, in the worst
case, canceled.” Her shoulders sag. “I’d hate to do that to the fans. Or the
crew. People depend on getting paid for this tour.”

I never realized that such a huge responsibility
was placed on a headlining act. “So, you’ll keep it?” I ask. “Not that it’s any
of my business.”

“I kind of made it your business.” Ariel looks
down at her lap. “I don’t know. It’s easy to think you’ll do something a
certain way until you’re confronted with it.” Her eyes meet mine. “What would
you do?”

“Me?” I haven’t put much thought into it
because I’m always careful. “I guess it would depend on my situation. If I
could financially support a baby, and if the father wanted to be involved, for
example.”

She gives me a tiny smile. “Well, if you slip
up with Gunnar, you know you’re covered. He’s been dedicated to his nephew
since the day Oliver was born. It’s part of why we broke up.”

I never questioned their reasons. “Really?”

“Call me selfish, but I didn’t feel like I
could compete after he won custody and moved away. He was wrapped up in
starting a new life, and I couldn’t give him the time or attention he deserved.
We agreed it would be best to call it quits.”

At least she admits she was partly to blame.

Ariel leans over to check the remaining time on
my phone. “Who would have thought one drunk night would lead to this?” She
pauses. “Never mind. That was a stupid question. The probability is actually
quite high.”

Before I can agree with her, the timer goes off.
We look at each other and she lets go of my hand. “Here goes nothing.”

She straightens her spine as she walks away, and
I stand in anticipation. When she disappears through the bathroom door, I start
to pace. I feel bad for her. She made a bad decision, yes, but so did Zach. I silently
wonder if he’s going to be supportive, or if he’s going to ditch her like Levi
did Audrey.

When Ariel doesn’t reappear after a minute, I
go find her. It doesn’t take that long to read one pink line or two. Peeking
around the corner, I can tell by her expression what the outcome is without
asking.

“Congratulations,” I whisper.

She gives me a sad smile before a tear rolls
down her cheek.

~~~~

All I want is a bottle of water,
I think as
I weave my way around bodies. It’s been almost an hour since Ariel learned she
was expecting and left the party. She said she was going to find Zach and break
the news, so I decided to find the guys and make sure they were living it up. Little
do they know all of this could come to an abrupt end, depending on how Ariel
feels and what she decides to do.

“Excuse me. Pardon me. Sorry,” I say as I
finally make it to the wet bar. Some random guy is behind it, having dubbed
himself honorary bartender. “Can I get a bottle of water please?”

“One water comin’ up,” he says and flips a bottle
behind his back and over his shoulder. He catches it and presents it to me.

“Thanks,” I say.

“Aww. Look, girls. The bitch is trying to come
off as Snow White.”

My body tenses at the sound of Heidi’s voice. Slowly,
I turn around and find her standing with her friends. “Well. If it isn’t the
old hag here to hand out more poison.”

Her narrowed eyes bounce between me and the
water. “Do you think you’re above us?”

“No. I think I’m thirsty.”

“Thirsty for Dean, maybe,” one of her lackeys
snipes.

Is she serious?  “Oh, honey,” I take a step
toward her, “I wouldn’t go there if I were you. Heidi knows there’s only one
man I’m thirsty for. Right, Heids?”

She doesn’t like my cutesy nickname, and she
crosses her arms. “Then how come we just saw you come out of Dean’s room?”

My forehead pinches. Is she high?  I look over
my shoulder, in the direction I just came from. “Do you mean back there?” I
point. “That’s my room. Get your facts straight, sweetheart.”

I refuse to interact with stupid, so I leave. I
swear Heidi has nothing better to do than make assumptions about me. She should
take a hint from
Mean Girls
and back the hell off. She could get hit by
a bus.

A tour bus, to be exact.

Spying the sliding glass doors, I decide to make
my way to the balcony for some fresh air. Just as I squeeze past the last few
people in my way, I hear, “Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” A hand grazes my
elbow, and I turn to see a certain record executive smiling at me.

“Caleb?  What are you doing here?”

He ushers me to the side, then leans against
the wall. “I’m keeping an eye on my interests. How have you been?”

I can’t help my skeptical look. “Things are good.”
What else can I say?

“Do you like the penthouse?”             

I glance around. “It’s nice. I’d enjoy it more
without all these people, though.”

He laughs. “Well, at least you have tomorrow
and Houston.”

“How do you know about Houston?”

He gives me a self-deprecating smile and my
eyes widen. “You upgraded us?”

“Guilty.”

Well, that was generous.

“Listen, Jen.” Caleb shifts his weight. “I
don’t know what Gunnar’s told you, but I want to make sure we’re okay. I don’t
want any bad feelings between you and me. You’re a crucial piece of Dean’s band.”

I’m confused. “And?”

“And he could be part of the Snare Records
family again. I want him to be comfortable in making that choice.”

He can’t be serious. “Do you think I’m bad
mouthing you to Dean?”

He puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “I’d
like to think you’re not.”

I shake my head to clear it. I refuse to get
involved in anything political. “You’re overestimating my part in this. Yes,
Latson’s told me about your past, but I haven’t brought it up to Dean. Why
would I?  You cut him off back then just like you did Latson. He doesn’t need
me to remind him.”

“Precisely.” Caleb pushes his body away from
the wall. “I think he’s moved on, and I’d like it to stay that way. The past
needs to stay in the past. If you talk to Gunnar, tell him –”

His thoughts are cut short when Dean approaches.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?” He gives Dean a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Great
show tonight, as always.”

Dean grins. “I didn’t know you were there. Can
I get you something to drink?  A beer?” He notices me. “Jen!  Do you need anything?”

I notice the glaze in Dean’s eyes. He’s well on
his way to having too much. “Nope. I’m good. Maybe you should put that bottle
down and pick up one of these.” I hold up my water. “You don’t need a nasty hangover.”

“You’re probably right.” Dean runs his hand
through his hair. “It’s good to have a voice of reason around. Don’t you think,
Caleb?”

Caleb looks at me. “As long as the voice can be
trusted.”

I have to stop my mouth from falling open. He
wants to talk about trust?  Please.

“Deeeean.”

Oh, for the love of God.

My eyes meet the ceiling as Heidi whines Dean’s
name. She walks up behind him and hangs on his arm. “Can I borrow your cell?  I
left mine in my room by accident.”

“Sure,” he says and pulls it from his pocket. “Take
your time.”

She slides it from his hand with a sly smile. “Thanks.”
She gives him a quick peck on the cheek, and I inwardly cringe. I’m going to
have to speak to this boy when he’s sober about the company he keeps.