He scoffs at my suggestion. I knew he would, but now that I’ve said it out loud, it’s the angle I’m taking.
“You’re pissing away your career. If you don’t want to be someone, let the kid go. He has potential.”
“Kid?” I question.
“The Davis boy. It’s in his genes to be on stage in front of sold out crowds. He knows this and is just biding his time with you.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
Once again he dismisses me with his hand and a smirk. “Let me tell you this Liam, I am not anything like Sam. I don’t give a shit about whom you fuck behind your wife’s back or who you knock up. What I care about is making money and so do you. You know damn well that you were at the top of the charts until you decided to go back to Sleepy Hollow.”
He stands and places his half-full glass on the side table next to the chair. In one quick movement, his hat is on his head and he’s standing before me.
“You know I can take you to the top. Sam is gone, and no longer an issue. If you think I need you, you’re sadly mistaken, but I’m willing to right the wrongs that my daughter committed against you. Think about it, Page.” He leans closer and I can smell the scotch on his breath. “Millions of screaming women throwing their panties on stage for you, posting about you on social media and saying how they’d leave their husbands for you. Sold out tours across the country and dollars in your pocket. You can bring your little wife, or leave her at home and take a mistress. I don’t give a fuck. What I do care about is money and 4225 West has the potential to make all of us very rich.”
Mr. Moreno walks away, pulling the door open quickly. He turns and looks at me. “Before you make a decision, talk it over with the guys. Make sure they’re okay with you pussy footing around in your basement while their bank accounts are dwindling.”
The door slams on his way out, causing me to jump. I’m antsy and slightly freaking out. I don’t know how or why I’m so tongue-tied when he’s near... probably because he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing and right now I’m looking like his lunch.
The simple fact that he thinks it’s okay to cheat should be enough for me to tell him to take a flying leap off a cliff, but I know he’s right about one thing: This decision… any decision... needs to be made as a band. I fear Harrison and JD will want to sign, leaving me the lone man out.
I walk into my bedroom and grab my phone, pressing the home button and dialing Josie. In the past I’d turn to booze or women, but I don’t need that shit anymore.
I just need her.
I look down at my ringing phone to see Liam’s face light up my screen. My finger hovers over the talk button, but I can’t bring myself to press it. I’m not actually angry with him as much as I am with the whole situation. I knew we weren’t together and hadn’t been, but seeing our anniversary date as a happy occasion for Sam is painful. It’s as if he did everything he could to erase me from his life and, for the most part, he was successful. I know not to believe everything that I’ve read, but the excerpts from Sam’s diary hit a little harder for me because I’m sure, deep down, that most are true.
Katelyn’s been gone an hour, leaving me to get lost in my own mind. I wouldn’t let her peruse the novel because I didn’t know how she’d react to the part about Mason. Thinking back to Sam’s thoughts makes my stomach turn. I can’t imagine what it would do to Katelyn.
My phone dings with a voicemail from Liam. I know I’m not being fair, but I need time to decompress and absorb what I’ve read. If I tell Liam, he’ll either have excuses, or become angry with me because I’ve read this book. I’m sure he has no clue that it was delivered and is probably banking on the fact that I would never buy something like this. I don’t even look at the gossip sites or magazines because they’re out to make money off other people’s misery, which isn’t far from what this book is doing. I’m letting it affect me when I shouldn’t.
One of the passages that stood out the most was about his grandmother’s house. Picking up the book, I fan the pages, stopping and skimming until I come to a diary excerpt from Sam. The pages are full of them and they’re really the focal point of the story.
Liam’s grandmother has died. Her death has allowed him to lean on me more than he has been. I’ve been able to assert myself more and more since her passing and I think he appreciates it. He asked me to sell her house, or donate it. It’s his grief talking and even though he’s my client and I’m supposed to do what he says, I’m not. We can live there once he realizes we’re meant to be together.
“Meant to be together,” I say those words out loud, hoping they sound differently than what I’m hearing in my head. They don’t. In fact, they anger me. The fact that this woman thought Liam was meant for her pains me, rips my heart out, because it has me wondering if he’s meant for me. I have spent far too many nights in my life second-guessing Liam Westbury and I don’t want to do it now. He came back to me...
Or did he just come back for Noah?
Pushing away from the table, I storm upstairs and into my closet. My arm reaches for the pull cord to the attic, but I hesitate. I know he has boxes up there from his time in LA and maybe they yield something about me, about us. Did he keep journals? Did he write about me in side notes of songs he wrote while he was away?
I close my eyes and pull, fearful of what might fall down; the dust, spiders and who knows what else lives up there. The attic is Liam’s job. He stores our holiday decorations up there and brings them down when needed, along with other household items we want to save. It’s the catch all for anything we don’t want seen. I’ve only been up here a few times and as I climb the rickety ladder now I’m second-guessing myself. But I have to know if he ever felt anything for Sam, or if he ever thought about me while he was gone. He’s says he thought about me all the time, but the nagging suspicion reading this book has caused me won’t go away and I need it to.
The string to the light dangles in front of me as I climb the steps. It’s out of reach until I’m two or three steps from the top. I pull gently, afraid that if I pull too hard the frayed string will break and with Liam not home to fix it, my quest for answers will only continue.
Boxes line the walls. Each one of them marked with what’s inside. I trail my fingers along the lettering: Noah’s school work, baby clothes, sheet music, and records. This attic doubles as his storage space since the basement studio isn’t big enough. I start with the box labeled sheet music. Removing the lid, the papers are nice and orderly and blank. I pull that box down and look at the one behind it, continuing this unless I see something that makes sense to me.
After what seems like an hour, I look around and see that I’ve destroyed the clean attic. Boxes are everywhere, some missing their lids, and I’m no closer to finding something that will help me feel like Liam is where he wants to be. I don’t care if he didn’t say the words in that book. They were said and I have to know if they’re true.
A box titled “Grandma” catches my eye and I move quickly toward it. I hesitate before lifting the lid because I’m about to search through the belongings of a woman I didn’t know, a woman who took Liam away from me and is someone he loves dearly. He hardly speaks of her and when he does, he doesn’t divulge much. All I really know is she died – that’s it. I don’t know how or when. Maybe it’s her death that truly brought him home to me, not Mason’s funeral. I run my hand over the top of the box and grab it with both hands, setting it on the floor.
As I stare at the box, I notice that the cursive handwriting on it isn’t Liam’s and because of what I’ve recently read, I’m pretty sure it’s Sam’s. She was there when she died. She was the one to comfort him. She was the one to help him through the loss of someone he cared about deeply. I wasn’t given that chance. I know I seem bitter but I’m not, I’m just really angry.