“Thanks,” he says before turning back to me. “I’m trying to right a wrong here. What happened before shouldn’t have happened, and I know that now. Gunnar isn’t performing anymore, so I can’t make it up to him. But I can try with Dean.”
“Why the change of heart?”
Caleb plays with his drink, turning it around with his hand. “Because time tells stories. I realize what I did wasn’t necessary.”
I get snarky. “Well, isn’t that big of you.”
Caleb crosses his arms and leans against the table top. “How much do you know? What did Gunnar tell you?”
“He’s told me enough,” I say. “It’s your fault he lost his career.”
“That’s fair,” Caleb concedes. “But did he tell you he was there the night his sister died?”
No, I think and frown. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Because he was caught on the security camera leaving her hotel room before she overdosed. There was speculation when the footage was released; hell, his own father accused him of murder.” He moves closer to me. “I knew Gunnar didn’t put the coke up Audrey’s nose, but the bad publicity was impossible to ignore. It seemed the best thing for everyone was to let the band go.”
I remember reading the headline about Latson’s dad, but hearing it from Caleb still shocks me. As my mind wraps around his words, I say, “So, you’re telling me Latson ended his career before you did.”
“I’m telling you we’re both guilty.”
The man looks sincere. I can see where he’s coming from, but it’s undeniable Latson was a victim of circumstance. There’s also the issue of Levi. “Don’t you think your brother shares part of the blame, too?”
“That he does.” Caleb takes a long drink and swallows. “That he does.”
I study him. Something doesn’t sit right. He flew all the way out to New Orleans for what? To see the exact same show? “Why are you really here?”
“I told you. Dean.”
I raise my eyebrows. “And?”
Caleb smiles and shakes his head. “Fine.” He places both hands on the table and sits back. “You.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You intrigue me.” He leans forward again. “You’re the only woman in an all-male group. Someone who’s never played professionally, but performs like she has her whole life. Someone who writes her own music and saves the day at the last minute.”
I’m confused. “Saves the day?”
“Roxanne told me how you stepped up for Ariel. I wasn’t expecting that. No one was.”
Does everyone think I’m a bitch? “She needed my help. I have a heart, you know.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Caleb shakes his head. “No one was expecting your performance. It was good. Really good.”
I don’t want to feel flattered by his compliment, but I do.
“Have you ever considered recording a demo? I could get you into the studio once the tour’s over. We could see where it goes.”
Is he serious? “I’ve never thought about being a singer.”
“Why? What’s your nine to five back home?”
I laugh and pick up my drink. “It’s more like a six to two. I tend bar.”
Caleb’s eyes light up. “Selling music would earn you more. A lot more.”
Of course it would. The idea is tempting, especially after tonight. However, there’s no way in hell Latson would want me to work with Caleb. Plus, there’s no guarantee my songs would sell. “Thanks, but I’d rather not get my hopes up.”
Caleb leans into my personal space. “What’s holding you back?”
I shrug, but don’t move away. He’s doesn’t intimidate me.
“I know it’s your boyfriend,” he says. “Are you going to let him run your life?”
My jaw drops. “Excuse me? You don’t know anything about us.”
“I know the chance I’m offering is one in a million. You should take it.” He pushes a loose piece of hair away from my face, his fingers lingering on my skin, before he whispers my ear. “Do you know what I mean?”
Oh, I know what he means. My eyes narrow. “You don’t get to touch me. Ever. Is that clear?”
He pulls away. “Jen, I …”
“Don’t Jen me.” I stand. “This conversation is over.”
My phone starts to buzz against the table. I reach for it, but Caleb’s faster. He holds it out of my reach and says, “Don’t go. Let me explain.”
“Give me my phone.”
“If you would just wait a minute –”
“I said give me my phone.”
“You don’t understand what I meant.”
“No, I understand perfectly what you meant.” I try to grab my cell, but he stands and holds it hostage. “Damn it, Caleb! Give me my phone! I want to leave.”
“What’s going on here?”
I turn around to see Dean and Drew. Caleb answers, “Jen and I were just discussing the possibility of her starting a singing career. Weren’t we, Jen?”
He smiles, but I can see the message lying beneath. He doesn’t want me to say anything about what just happened. Little does he know the truth will be told once Dean and I are alone.
“Yep,” I say, clipping the word and holding my hand out for my phone again. He gives it to me, and I look at Dean and Drew. “I’m headed back to the hotel. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“I’ll come with you,” Drew says, giving Caleb a questioning look.
As we leave the bar, Drew sets a protective hand against my back. I glance down at my phone to see who called and realize the call connected. Caleb must have brushed his thumb against the screen when he picked it up. My heart drops.
It’s Latson.
“Hello?” I put the phone to my ear. “Hello? Are you there?”
“You’re with Caleb.”
Shit. His words are a statement and his voice sounds flat. I say the first thing that comes to mind. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re thinking about a singing career.”
“No. I –”
“I’ll let you go.”
“No! Wait.”
The line goes silent. “Latson?” No answer. “Latson?”
He’s gone.
~~~~
“If it makes you feel any better, he’s not taking my calls, either.”
I shift my gaze from the ceiling of my bunk to Dean. “You tried again?”
“Just now. I left another message.”
My face falls. If Latson won’t answer the phone for his brother, my chances are disappearing by the second. It’s been two days.
“He’ll come around,” Dean says. “He’s sulking right now, but he’ll snap out of it.”
“When?” I ask. “Because this is killing me.”
It is. I think it literally is. My stomach has been in knots ever since this whole thing happened. I have no appetite and sleeping is impossible. I keep thinking he’ll text or call, and I’ll be asleep and miss it. I’ve even been taking my phone with me into the bathroom when I shower.
“Hopefully he’ll get his head out of his ass by the time we get to Tampa,” Dean says. “Only a few more hours to go.”
If that happened, I would welcome it. With open arms, trumpets, and confetti cannons. I know I didn’t do anything wrong, but it feels like I did. All I want is the chance to explain what he overheard.
Dean’s phone rings, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I get hopeful until I watch his expression twist. He sends the call to voice mail. “Caleb,” he says.
“Asshole.” I flop back against my pillow. “Is there any way we can rid of him?”
“I wish.” Dean pockets his phone. “You know I’m only putting up with him until the end of the tour.”
After I told Dean that Caleb tried to hit on me, he wasn’t pleased. He confided that he never planned to sign with Snare, not with Sacred Sin’s history. He’s only tolerating Caleb to get through this tour. He said he has to be nice to him to avoid burning bridges; labels and agents talk. His main goal is to gain exposure, then shop his music.
“Latson knows, right? You told him?”
“In every message I’ve left.”
I sigh. I hate that he won’t talk to me. This is exactly like the time he overreacted at the hospital. It makes my heart hurt.
“I’ll let you know if he calls,” Dean says.
“Okay.”
I roll over on my side and try to settle into my bunk. It seems Beau has us traveling at warp speed to Florida; I can feel it in the shimmy of the bus. I contemplate waking Ariel to ask her if Latson acted this way when they were together, but I know she hasn’t been feeling well and she needs her sleep. There’s nothing left for me to do, other than close my eyes. Instead, I find myself staring at Oliver’s drawing. When did things get so complicated?