Face the Music (46 page)

My frustrations got the best of me.  “What am I supposed to do?”  I
turned the water off and wrapped myself in a towel.

Emily followed me to my room.  “Do about what?” she asked
. 

I
fell backwards on my bed and
told her about my conversation with Mr. Doveland.

“Wow,” she said
.  “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Yeah.  And guess who else I talked to.  Again.”

She
dropped down next to me and
scowled.  “
Don’t tell me that asshole called you.
”

I nodded.

“Why did you even answer?  What did he want?”

“He saw
my picture
in the papers and called to
warn me about getting hurt
.”

She shook her head and groaned. 
“
The irony.
”

“
I know, right? 
Basically
,
he told me I’ve got my head buried in the sand.  He’s convinced that Chris will just run
out on me when the show’s over.
”

“
Oh, f
or crap’s sake
!
 
Don’t
even
waste your time.”

I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at her.
 
“I just
don’t know if I can do this, Em.  This whole thing with Chris.  Regardless of what Paul has to say about it, I can’t shake what Mr. Doveland said.”

She frowned
at me
.  “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

She gave me a long look
.  “Don’t f
reak out.  This isn’t about Chris, or
even
Paul
for that matter
.  It’s about you and your fear of intimacy.” 

“No,” I shook my head.  “It is not.  This is about Chris, and
what’s best for
his career.  This is not about me.”

“Are you sure?”  A sympathetic smile pulled at her lips.  “Sure you’re just not scared of getting hurt?”

“Why would I be afraid of getting hurt, Em?”  My voice was heavy with sarcasm. 

She stood up and paced
the room.  “You can be so hard-
headed!  It makes perfect sense, don’t you see that?  Gramps, Grams, Mom,
and
even Paul.  With the exception of me and Molly, everyone you love ends up leaving you somehow.”  She stopped and looked at me.  “So
you
now
won’t let anyone get close.
”

I held up my hand.  “That’s ridiculous.  What are you,
a psychoanalyst now
?”  I was being rude, but I didn’t care. 

She looked hurt
,
but kept going.  “Paul, this Doveland guy, they’re just offering you excuses, reasons to break it off with Chris.  Don’t fall for it.” 

My phone rang
.  It was Chris.  I looked at Emily as I answered it. 

“I was just wondering
where you disappeared off to,” he said. 
“Last I knew
,
you were safely tucked away in my bed, but when I woke up this morning you were gone.  What happened?”

My anger fa
ded at the sound of his voice.  “Sorry,” I said to both him and my sister
.
  Emily shook her head and left my room, pulling my door closed behind her. 
“I needed to get home.  But
,
guess what?  There were reporters outside the hotel.  They caught me sneaking out.”

He laughed.  “So
,
we’ll give them something
else to talk about.  Who cares
?  It’s not their business, right?” 

I
thought about it, but decided I
didn’t share his indifference. 

“
Allie
?”

“Yeah, right.  Not their business,” I mumbled.  The problem was that these people made their living by making it their business.

“Want to go grab a cup of coffee?  I could meet you at that little café by your building.”

I looked down at the towel I was still wearing
.  “Okay.  Give me a half hour?”

I hung up and found Emily in the living room.  “Sorry.”

She shook her head.
  “All I’m saying is, don’t ruin a good thing
.  Chris is a great guy, and from what I’ve seen, he really cares for you.”  She spoke slowly and softly.  “He makes you happy.  Don’t you want that?”

I looked at my feet.  “Of course I do.” 

I got dressed and went to the kitchen to grab my purse.  One of Emily’s m
agazines was on the counter.  On the cover was
a picture of Chris. 

Who’s Ch
ris’s Best Match?  You Decide!

Curious, I flipped to the article.  It was a readers’ poll, and five square pictures were laid out across the page.  I was surprised to see one of myself alongside Cynthia and three other
knockouts
.  Sixty-eight percent of readers chose Cynthia.  Less than two percent, one-point-eight, to be exact, picked me. 

I threw the magazine in the garbage
and left.

Chris was waiting for me and
slid
his arm around my shoulders as we went inside.  “What’s wrong?” he asked
once we sat down.

“Nothing.  I’m fine.”  I shot him a fake smile, but
he frowned.

“Hmm.  See the thing is, whenever you say you’re fine, you’re not.  You were acting weird last night, too.  What’s going on?”

I started to say something when a group of giggly teenage girls skipped over to our table.  “Chris Knots!!”  They squealed.  “You are so awesome!!  We watch
Superstardom
every week just to see you.”

He stood and gave them all a hug.  “Thanks, i
t’s always great to meet fans.
”

One of the girls looked at me from over
her
shoulder.
It was a snide, critical look.

Suddenly
,
I felt as though everyone in the e
ntire place was staring at us.  J
udging me.  I
studied the pattern on my coffee cup
, listening to the happy chatter of the girls as Chris blessed them with his attention.

“I am so sick of this,” I mumbled after they’d left.

“Sick of what?” 

Was he completely ignorant to the fact that he had no privacy anymore? 

“Let’s go,” I said, grabbing my purse. 

He followed me
out
to the sidewalk. 

“I’m just tired of everyone looking at me, always analyzing me.  Doesn’t it ever get old?”

He looped his arm around mine.  “It was hard to get used to at first, but now I hardly notice it.”

“I don’t know that I want to get used to it.”  I told him about the readers’ poll.  “So basically, America thinks you and Cynthia would be a
perfect match. 
And the vast minority approves of me.” 

He grunted and shook his head as we approached the playground.  “Since when do you care what people think?”

I sat down on a swing and looked at the ground.  “I don’t.  It’s just that I don’t want to wake up next to you, ten years from now, and realize that I was the dead weight that dragged down your career.” 

Shock spread across his features.  “What are you talking about?
”

I didn’t say anything.  I just looked at him.  He sat on the swing next to me.

“
Allie, please trust me.  It’ll get easier, I promise.”  His eyes were insistent.  “Don’t quit us because of them, not yet.  Give it some time.”

I slowly exhaled the breath I was holding.  “I don’t want to ‘quit us’, but…”

“Uh-uh.  No buts.
”

He got off his swing and knelt before me, folding his arms across my lap.  “I’m falling in love with you.”

My heart did a flip-flop in my chest, and I had to tighten my grip on the chains to keep from floating away.  For an entire second
,
I was perfectly happy, but reality quickly brought me back down when I heard a familiar clicking sound.  A reporter stood across the street, flashing our picture. 

I drew in a jagged breath.  “What happens at the end of the season?
” I asked.
 
“
Whether or not you win, where does that leave us?”

He lifted his head and looked at me.  “Why stress
out
about it now?  Let’s
make it
through the end of the show
,
and
then we’ll
see where we’re at.  We can figure it out then.  Just stick with me, okay?”

The ambiguity in his response did little to alleviate my anxiety.

***

I sat in front of my TV
on
Monday night
,
a quart of chocolate ice cream
and a spoon on the end table next to me
.

Bradley McKnight was questioning Chris about his performance.  “What are you singing for
us tonight
?”

“I’m going to perform Ryan Star’s
Breathe
.”

“And what prompted that choice, if I may ask?”

Chris smiled a private smile.  “
T
he song kind of chose me this week.  I can’t really explain why.”  I shuddered when he looked into the camera.  It was like he was looking directly at me.

In the end, h
e, along with Cynthia, made it to the final round.

Chapter 24

“I want you to meet my family,” Chris said over the phone the morning before the final show.  “Their flight lands at noon.  Will you go with me to pick them up?”

“Of course!”  I hadn’t seen much of Chris that week; he’d spent every available moment at the studio perfecting his act for the final performance.

A long, twenty-passenger Hummer was parked outside my apartment building.  The driver held the door open, waiting for Chris and me to climb in.  I had to blink to keep my eyeballs from falling out of my head.