Grace Unplugged: A Novel (8 page)

Just then her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was from Mossy. Could this be it . . . a way out of this town, away from these people who were trying to control her, keep her down? Tentatively she answered the phone.

As Grace packed, she felt seriously regretful about one thing. She would miss Noah Roberts’s recital performance tonight. Oh, she knew the nine-year-old would be just fine. Noah was extremely talented on guitar and truly her star student. He would start out feeling nervous—everyone did at that age. But if he’d just remember what she’d told him, he would begin to relax. And then he would play beautifully. She knew it.

She wiped a tear from her cheek as she stuffed the last of her things into the wheeled carry-on bag, zipping it up. She just hoped he would understand why she couldn’t be there. And maybe once she got settled she would send him a note of explanation and encouragement. Or not. After all, becoming a star wasn’t easy or pain free. If he loved music as much as he claimed, he might as well start learning this lesson now.

Chapter 7

A
fter a restless night of tossing and turning and little sleep, Johnny got up earlier than usual. Hopefully a good long jog would clear his head. And maybe even settle his heart. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d handled Grace yesterday. But his little girl needed to be brought back down to earth. And that was his job, wasn’t it? God expected him to raise his daughter to be respectful and obedient. If someone had taught Johnny these things when he was Grace’s age, his life might not have gone into the ditch so many times. Man, if only these kids came with an instruction manual.

He could smell the bacon frying even before he came in the front door. Bless that wife of his. She knew just what a man needed after a rough night and hard workout. He headed straight for the kitchen and a drink of water. “Smells mighty good in here,” he said as he watched her measuring coffee. “I’d give you a hug, but I’m all sweaty.”

“Thanks.” She made a grateful smile but her eyes looked troubled. He guessed, like him, she’d had a restless night too. “Good run?”

“Yeah.” He set the empty glass on the counter and then glanced at the clock. “She come out yet?”

“No,” Michelle studied him as she pressed the button on the coffeemaker. “You okay?”

He let out a long sigh. “Oh, you know, she’s been a pain. But I know I was wrong to lose it like that.”

She nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“I got to make it right.”

She nodded again. “I’m sure she’s awake by now. Want me to go get her?”

“Sure. She’ll probably be more open to you right now than to me. Don’t you think?”

“Uh-huh.” She patted his damp head. “I love you, Johnny.”

As he refilled his glass with water, he knew he was lucky. No, he was blessed. With both Michelle and Grace. He probably didn’t deserve either one of them, but God had been generous. Now hopefully he could convince Grace to forgive him . . . again.

“Johnny!”
Michelle’s voice sliced through the house with an urgency that cut him to the core as he sprinted from the kitchen and up the stairs.

“What? What is it?”
he yelled as he raced to Grace’s room, bracing himself for whatever had happened and praying that it was not the worst thing imaginable.

“It’s Grace!” Michelle held out a note to him. “She’s left.”

For a moment he felt a small surge of relief—at least she wasn’t hurt, or worse. Running away wasn’t the same as being dead. But as he read the note, he wasn’t so sure. Grace had set out to launch her music career. She hadn’t included many of the details about how she planned to do this impossible feat. Although it seemed apparent that somehow she’d gotten it into her head that Sapphire was interested in her. Was she crazy? Johnny knew enough about the music business to know that this was a bad path to take. An innocent young girl out there trying to make her break and get a few gigs and earn enough to keep from starving—well, it wasn’t a pretty picture. He’d seen it enough times to know. Not only were the odds against her for succeeding in the music business, but they were stacked up against her a bunch of other horrible ways as well. Really, this was a father’s worst nightmare. Or very nearly.

“What do we do?” Michelle asked with teary eyes.

“Pray?”

“Yes, of course. We need to ask God’s guidance and direction on this,” she nodded. “Do you think she really could’ve made it all the way to Los Angeles?”

He thought hard. “I don’t know. But that’s where Sapphire is located.”

She nodded. “Even if she was headed there, how do you think she got there?”

“Train? Bus?” He frowned. “Did she have much money?”

“Not that I know of.” Michelle was going through Grace’s things now, acting like a detective who was trying to find a clue to the mystery.

“We can try her cell,” Johnny said. “But she probably won’t answer.”

Michelle nodded and then let out a choked sob. “What do we do?”

Johnny pulled her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, babe. I shouldn’t have gotten angry at her like I did. But we’ll figure it out. I promise you. I’ll find her.”

“According to the date on the note, she took off last night. Where could she have slept?” Michelle asked between sobs. “Where is she now?”

Grace was relieved that she’d been able to sleep on the red-eye flight to Los Angeles. But she’d been so exhausted after her hair-raising getaway last night that it wasn’t really surprising she’d conked out on her second flight. She didn’t even want to think about how she’d taken a ride from complete strangers—a couple of college-aged guys that she’d found at the diner in town. Noticing her guitar, they’d started chatting with her about music. As it turned out, they just happened to be on their way to Birmingham too.

They seemed respectable enough, but after having been taught for years not to talk to—let alone ride with—strangers, she knew she could’ve been making a big mistake. Thankfully, she was not. The guys turned out to be great, and they even dropped her off at the airport, telling her not to forget them when she became a big star.

Her flight out of Birmingham was a short little hop on a small jet that seemed to bounce over the turbulence all the way to Atlanta. And when she arrived, she had a long layover until her next flight. However, she couldn’t complain because she had told Mossy’s assistant she wanted to leave on Sunday night, and she had refused to back down. Fortunately, the assistant had made arrangements for Grace to spend the night in an airport hotel. So with her guitar case and bag, she boarded a hotel shuttle bus at about ten o’clock that night. But because her morning flight was an early one and she worried she might oversleep, and because she was feeling uneasy about her parents, and mostly because she was so excited about this adventure she was embarking on, she had spent most of the night wide awake.

It was no wonder she’d slept soundly on the flight to LA. But now that she was here and it was morning and no airport security or police had tried to stop her—which she’d been expecting the whole time—she felt free as a bird. As she rode down the escalator to baggage claim, she suppressed the urge to spread her wings and pretend to fly. After all, she wasn’t a child anymore.

She didn’t have any bags to claim, but Mossy’s assistant had said that was where passengers were picked up. And sure enough, as soon as she stepped off the escalator, there was a lineup of drivers, all holding up signs with people’s names on them. And to her delight there was a man dressed in a crisp black suit and holding up a sign that said
Grace Trey
. It if had been written in lights, she wouldn’t have been one bit happier.

“I’m Grace Trey,” she told him.

“Welcome to LA, Miss Trey.” He reached for her bag and guitar.

“Thank you!” She beamed at him.

“Right this way.”

He led her out to where a sleek black limo was parked near the taxis. She tried not to feel too smug as she walked past grown-ups waiting in line for taxis. And she could feel them looking at her, probably wondering who she was, as her driver opened the door for her. Holding her head high, she slipped into the limo. She felt like a million bucks.

As the limo pulled out of the airport, Grace looked out the windows. It seemed that palm trees were growing everywhere. A nice touch though. She stared in awe as they traveled through what seemed familiar scenes—probably things she’d seen in movies—until eventually she knew they were in Hollywood. She wanted to pinch herself. Was this really happening? Or was it just another one of her wild and crazy daydreams?

“Here we are, Miss,” he said as he pulled up to the curb. “Sapphire Music.”

Suddenly she wished she’d taken some time to check her hair and makeup. She wasn’t ready for this. Fumbling in her bag, she pulled out a small compact and did a quick inventory. Thankfully, and despite a long night, she didn’t look too worse for wear. But, really, she should have planned this entrance a little better. She wasn’t even sure who she was meeting with this morning. Although Mossy’s assistant had promised that Mossy would be there.

“There you go,” the driver said as he set her bag on the sidewalk next to her. “Good luck.” He handed her the guitar case.

“Thanks.” She giggled as she looped a strap over her shoulder. She looked up at the tall building and took in a deep breath. This was it. Really it. The Sapphire Music building. This was for real. Now what?

She went through the glass doors into what appeared to be a security check. Not unlike the airport this morning. Once she got through there, she entered a big modern-looking lobby. All glass and chrome and leather. But what really captured her attention were the big flat screens on the all the walls. They were playing various music videos and sound, and the feeling in this space was knock-your-socks-off incredible. She could’ve just sat there all day, soaking it in.

However, she reminded herself that was not why she was here. Now she spotted a large sleek desk with an attractive brunette standing behind it. Holding her head high and trying not to look too burdened down by her bags, she went up and told the woman her name. “I’m here to see Frank Mostin.”

“Oh, yes.” She nodded. “Mr. Mostin asked me to give him a call when you arrived.” She pointed to one of the long leather couches. “Please, have a seat. I’m sure he’ll be down soon.”