It Will Always Be You (Starlight Walk Series #1) (4 page)

Chapter Four

“I hate to say
it…but…”

“We have work to
do?” Regan laughed.

Thorne nodded.
Regan had been with him for two months now, he’d accompanied her to interviews
on other shows, reliving and recounting their first meeting on his own show for
reporters, and helping her to understand the business a little. They hadn’t
really talked about where their relationship was going, but he knew it had to
come up sooner or later. So far, Regan had performed on Thorne’s show at least
a dozen times. His viewing audience at home had increased, and they’d expanded
the seating in the studio to accommodate larger crowds.

She had an
upcoming series of concerts opening tonight at Madison’s Starlight Gardens, the
newest arena off the Starlight Walk. She was positively brimming with
happiness. But she had become close friends with Loretta Lindstrom, and that
just didn’t sit well with him. It was a bone of contention between them, though
Regan generally changed the subject rather than argue. But he knew Loretta
would be coming to her dressing room tonight to congratulate her on her opening
night.

“She’s bringing
Rugly, of course,” Regan said with a laugh. “Elsie and Jenny have both
volunteered to help look after him.”

“Why can’t she
just look after him herself?” he groused. “It’s not that hard to walk a dog!”

“Of course she
can’t walk her own dog, Thorne, she’d get mobbed.”

“Then why does
she bring the damned thing with her?” For just one second, Regan looked at him
as though she really didn’t like him very much, then he got the ultra-patient
‘receptionist face’ she used when she was really annoyed.

“Maybe she’s
lonely?” she suggested quietly.

“The ‘Iceberg’,
lonely? Hardly! Don’t be sucked in, Regan, she’s as cold as ice.”

“How well do you
know her?”

“I don’t but…”

“Only what
you’ve read, right?”

He nodded
uncomfortably.

“Am I all that
you’ve read, Thorne? The tabloids have been very creative.”

Annoyed now, not
only because she had a point, but also because she wasn’t listening—he was only
trying to protect her after all—he opened up and told her exactly what had
happened on the day of the show, that had brought them to this point. To his
ultimate chagrin, she threw back her head and laughed.

“What is so
funny?”

“You!”

“Me? How so?”

“You’re as much
a prima donna in your own way as you say she is.”

Thorne stared at
her aghast. No one had ever,
ever
called him such a thing. His
expression turned thunderous.

“Thorne?”

“Yeah?” He drew a
hand through his thick sandy blonde hair, and turned to stare at her.

“I love you.”

“Warts and all?”
he asked dryly.

“Yeah,
ego
,
warts and all.”

***

That evening,
Thorne watched as Regan strode out onto the stage for her opening night. She
really didn’t need him, she had it down to a science shutting out the world
when she was on stage; singing was almost meditative to her, she didn’t have
any nerves about it at all.

He let her voice
carry him away. Lull him into a comfort zone. But not for long, as the song
ended to the tumultuous applause of her awe-struck fans and they awaited the
next number, reality intruded once again, and he began to wonder—was she right
about his ego? No one had ever made him doubt himself like this before. Her
teasing had stung. He shook away the uncomfortable thoughts. She had no idea
what life in show business was really like. He and his staff had protected her
so far from the harsh daily realities and pitfalls of the business. Her best
friend Elsie had even moved out here to Madison to lend her support and work at
the studio alongside Jenny. Maybe it was time to let Regan go. To allow her to
make her own mistakes, then she would see that he was right about people like
Loretta. He almost growled under his breath at being compared to that woman, he
was no prima donna. He made a hard decision, but he was confident it was the
right one.

For both of
them.

Thorne waited
until Loretta, Elsie and Jenny, plus the multitude of autograph seekers had
departed, to walk into her dressing room. She smiled at him and just for a
second, when she walked over to wrap her arms around him, he inwardly
questioned his decision.

“Regan,” he
began, taking her softly by the shoulders, he looked sadly into her eyes. The
smile slowly slipped from her face as he explained that it was time for her to
strike out on her own. Without him.

Regan stared at
him with tears swimming in her lovely blue eyes as she allowed him to finish
his speech. She didn’t say a word until he was through, then she just nodded.
“I’ll go get my things from your place.”

“I’ve already
had it done for you.”

Stunned silence
filled the room. And he was certain he felt the temperature drop by a few
degrees. She held his gaze, she was waiting for him to deliver the next blow.

“I had your
things taken to
La Marionette
this evening. I booked you into a suite
there, you’ll be safe.”

“Thank you, but
I prefer
Bandolero’s.
I’ll call and have my things sent over there.”

Stunned at her
reaction and refusal to stay at his chosen hotel, he glared, nostrils flaring
as he swiftly exhaled.

“Ego,” she said
softly, her expression wistful as she wagged a playful finger at him for the
very last time. She rose and opened the door wide. “Bye, Thorne.”

***

When Regan
walked out of his life, Thorne’s world held significantly less color. His first
show without her had been hard, cold, but he was the only one who seemed to
notice.  No one had expected her to be on the show forever, and Vance had
lined up a veritable parade of other willing celebrity guests to charm and entertain
his audience.

He’d assumed
over time, being without her would get easier. It hadn’t. Weeks later, he still
missed her. When she hadn’t been singing on the show, she’d been waiting for
him in the dressing room; now he was alone. His staff were all back to their
usual routine. She’d moved out of his life in every way.

She continued
her concert series at Madison’s Starlight Gardens, he passed her smiling
vibrant billboard every day on his way to work. Trying to ignore the ache, the
simple sight of her image brought to his chest. And he saw her almost daily
making guest appearances on a variety of different talk shows, singing mainly,
she didn’t like to chat much about herself and had apparently made that clear
to all the hosts. They were very willing to go along with that, simply talking
about her and her talent as they introduced her, and allowing her to just
sing—exchanging only a few words in greeting—and then to leave. She was in such
high demand, of course she was getting her own way. She even went on TV shows
that competed against his show’s time slot. He lost. His viewers wanted to know
when she’d be back on his show. He simply said her schedule was full for the
moment. Now, sitting in his dressing room, he watched her on yet another show.

She was turning
into a prima donna.

Thorne turned at
the unexpected sound behind him, realizing he’d voiced his last opinion out
loud.

“She’s not the
only one, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,
she’s been hanging out with Loretta.”

“I didn’t mean Loretta.
I meant you,” Vance said quietly.

“What do you
mean?” he demanded.

“Regan was right
when she called you a prima donna, Thorne. You’re as much a prima donna as you
say Loretta is.” Thorne stared in disbelief, Vance was his friend as well as
his producer, he’d just listened patiently and nodded when he’d explained weeks
ago what had happened with Regan.

“Don’t be so
bloody ridiculous!” He leaped to his feet about to storm out of the room.

“Don’t want to
hear the criticism, Thorne?” Vance asked, as Thorne hovered in the doorway.

“Of what? I
haven’t done anything wrong! Since
that
woman…” he pointed at Loretta
who currently graced the TV screen in his dressing room, singing alongside
Regan, “…walked into my life, it’s been turned upside down!”

“You turned your
own life upside down, and tell me, how exactly does Loretta qualify as a prima
donna, just the fact that you don’t like her?”

“She came in
here demanding that we do the show instantly! She insisted someone walk her
dog…” he paused, remembering Regan’s words, that expecting an assistant to walk
Rugly hadn’t been that unreasonable.

“Thorne, she
called ahead and told us that Rugly would be with her, apprised us of his
needs, and
asked
, not demanded, that the show go on right away while she
was still fresh, she had been on tour for months. She was tired. You could have
taped the show right away if you had wanted to, and rerun it an hour later, and
you knew it, so did she. If she was such a prima donna, how come no one else
thinks so, but you?”

Thorne glared at
him, remembering very well the way Loretta had tried to take over, but then he
faltered. Was that the truth? Or was it just the way he viewed it? Loretta had
disagreed with him, and he’d practically booted her off the show. Now he’d
kicked out the best thing that had happened to him in years—Regan, because she
was starting to disagree with him too. He groaned.

“Take a
vacation, buddy,” Vance said, his hand resting on Thorne’s shoulder.

Thorne’s heart
suddenly plummeted. Did that mean he was going to be fired? This show had
become his life. It wasn’t about money, he had plenty now, but if he didn’t
have the show, then who was he?

“It’s
just
a vacation,” Vance reiterated, seeing Thorne’s sudden stricken expression. “But
it’s an order. Don’t come back for two weeks. We’ll go into reruns, maybe have
a guest host or two.”

Vance might be
right about him needing time off. He suddenly felt the need for a break from
everything, but not without talking to Regan first.

***

Thorne walked
into the plush red velvet lobby of
Bandolero’s
, it was a quaint old
fashioned style high rise hotel with long term ‘guest suites’, this was where
Regan had said she would be.

“Can I help you,
sir?” The young male concierge asked politely.

“I’m here to see
Regan.”

He didn’t even
have to give her last name, everyone in the world knew who she was now.

“Is she
expecting you, sir?”

“No, I don’t
believe so, but…” No-one had ever questioned his right to be anywhere, at least
not in years. He was used to doors always being open to him.

“Then I will
just buzz her, sir, and ask if she’d like to see you.” The young man, oblivious
to who he was talking to, did just that. Thorne was tempted to rip into him,
no-one kept Thorndike Lundquist waiting, but it had stunned him. He just sat
quietly and waited. Obviously the man didn’t know who he was.

“Miss Jordan
says she will see you, Mr. Lundquist.” Wrong, then he did know who he was and
didn’t care? “She has another visitor at the moment, but she says you are
welcome to join them.”

“Who?” Thorne’s
hackles rose. Was she already dating someone new?

“Miss
Lindstrom.”

Thorne groaned.
Loretta was the last person he wanted to see when he needed to talk to Regan.
But Regan would most likely be surrounded by other people from now on.
Hopefully, he could garner a few moments alone with her. The concierge summoned
the elevator and walked over to punch in a security code to send him up to see
Regan.

Thorne stepped
out of the elevator and into a plush suite with giant wall to ceiling windows
overlooking the city. A city view of her own, just as she had always dreamed of
having. No wonder she’d preferred
Bandolero’s
over
La Marionette
.
His heart somersaulted in his chest as she approached.

“Hello, Thorne.”

“Hello, Regan, Loretta.”
He nodded to the older woman, and for the first time really looked at her, as
both Vance’s observations and Regan’s words echoed in his head. Loretta’s
eyebrows rose. Her famous green eyes weren’t cold at all, merely searching.
With a glance at Regan she stepped into the other room to give them some
privacy.

Regan looked
soft, feminine and beautiful, as always. Her soft brown hair cascaded loosely
over her shoulders, her gentle blue eyes held his in inquiry. He’d missed her.
Their months together had truly been something else. Something he’d never felt
before. He’d adored her, but then everyone did. She was smart enough to protect
herself from the reporters, and apparently Loretta had been helping her. She
was everything he’d ever wanted in his life, everything he needed to make him
whole.

“I love you,
Regan, you help me keep my feet on the ground,” he said, unsure how else to
begin this conversation. He hadn’t said he loved her before, though she had
freely told him frequently that she loved him.