“Should we put him out of his misery?” Steve asked from the doorway.
“I don’t know,” Max said. “It’s pretty funny, if you ask me.”
“What’s funny?” Logan sat up and pushed his wayward curls out of his face to glare at his comedian bandmates who had congregated in the doorway. All except Reagan. After what he’d said to her, Reagan would likely never speak to him again, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.
“What’s funny? How about the way you’re tearing apart the couch and flopping around on the floor in a panic when your phone is sitting peacefully in the charger.” Dare pointed at the charger on the end table.
“Who the hell put it in there?” But he knew. Toni had been looking out for him. Anticipating his needs and doing those little things that showed she cared without prompting or asking for anything in return. He grabbed the edge of the bare sectional in one hand and the coffee table in the other and hauled himself to his feet.
“I do think he’s actually in love with her,” Steve said, scratching his jaw.
“Why else would he make such an ass out of himself?” Max said.
Dare tugged the two men out of the doorway and started to slide the door shut. Just before it closed, he poked his head into the room and said, “Don’t fuck this up. Sometimes you don’t get a second chance at happiness.”
Logan waved him away as he returned Toni’s missed call. The door banged shut just as he lifted the phone to his ear.
“Logan?”
She answered on the first ring. Her voice wavered on his name, and she sucked in a deep shaky breath. He could tell she was crying, and the thought of her turmoil jabbed him in the gut.
“Please, you have to believe me,” she sobbed. “I didn’t—”
“Shh, sweetheart, I know you wouldn’t sell our secrets to the tabloids.”
“You know?”
“Yeah, so don’t cry. We’ll get this all straightened out.”
“If you knew, then why wouldn’t you even look at me after the show? I thought you hated me.”
“I could never hate you.” It was true. Even if she had been a conniving bitch and sold their stories to the tabloids, he would have eventually forgiven her. But thank God he didn’t have to. “At that particular moment, I was convinced you’d betrayed us, but after a few minutes of thought, I realized you wouldn’t do that to the band.”
“Fuck the band. I would never do that to you.”
Logan’s brow furrowed. “So you did sell them out?” What was she saying?
“Of course not. But if they hated me, I would eventually move on. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I ever hurt you.”
“I’m not sure Reagan will forgive you, but if the guys aren’t already over it, they will be in a few days. This isn’t the first time our shit has been smeared all over the tabloid toilet. We’re used to it.”
Toni snorted on a laugh, and Logan’s throat tightened. Who would have ever thought that such a tiny sound would bring him overwhelming joy. Toni was no longer crying, no longer heartbroken. His world could start turning again.
“Do you want us to turn the bus around and come get you?” he asked.
“He better not be making up with her!” Reagan yelled from the corridor.
“Will you calm down?” Max’s muffled voice advised.
“No, I will not calm down! Get your fucking hands off of me.”
There was a repetitive slapping sound. “Ow!” Max complained. “Some help here, guys?”
“Reagan is still pretty upset,” Logan said to Toni. Understatement of the century. “But maybe she’d be willing to ride with Sinners.”
“No, go on without me,” Toni said. “I have enough to get started on the book, and you know Reagan struggles to be a part of the band. You should support her. I’ll keep my distance until she calms down.”
Why would Reagan be struggling with being a part of the band? They’d accepted her from day one. And there was no way he was supporting Reagan when she blamed Toni for her problems. Toni was innocent. “How can I support her? She’s accusing the wrong person.”
“I don’t mean that,” Toni said. “Support her through the impending media shitstorm. You know it’s just started. They won’t leave her alone now that the story is out. All the other stuff they stole from my journal is old news, but Reagan’s relationship is a current event. It’s going to get ugly, Logan.”
Logan scratched his head and scowled. He hadn’t thought about that. Of course Toni, who always empathized with everyone, would think to worry about Reagan’s future struggles.
“So you don’t want to be with me for the rest of the tour?” he asked. He needed to see her. He was glad they were talking like rational adults—who’d have guessed he’d ever be so mature about such a situation—but he needed to see her, to touch her. He needed the physical reassurance that she loved him. To see it in her eyes. Feel it in her touch. Words weren’t enough.
“Of course I want to be with you. But even more than that, I want to confront the bitch who did this and out her for the thieving, back-stabbing, heartless cunt that she is.”
Logan’s jaw dropped. He’d never heard Toni say negative things about anyone before. Apparently her hurt had turned to anger.
“So you know who did it?” Logan asked.
“I’m pretty sure I do. Remember Susan, the editor who works for my mom’s company? The entire meeting in Denver, all she could focus on was the dirt she wanted on you guys. I never saw my journal again after that day. I think she took it when I was with Birdie in the bathroom.”
“You’re going home,” he said, a strange tug pulling at his chest. He rubbed at the spot. He suddenly realized that they hadn’t been apart for more than a few hours since they’d met. If this was what it felt like to be without her—this ache, this yearning—he wasn’t going to last a day on his own.
“For a few days at least. I’m not going to let her get away with this.”
That was too long to be without Toni. But she needed to take care of business, and he had to be supportive, even if it was from a fucking distance.
“I’ll miss you,” she said to fill the silence.
“I already miss you.”
“Be there for Reagan,” she reminded him.
“I’d rather be there for you.”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’m stronger than I look.”
That was a fact he couldn’t argue against. “If you need anything, call me. I’ll come running.”
“I love you.”
Those three little words still made his heart fill to bursting. “I love you too. Let me know when you get home so I don’t worry.”
Toni chuckled. “You’ve changed, Logan.”
“Why do you say that?”
“When was the last time you worried about anyone but yourself?”
“Hmm.” He scratched his chin. “I guess never. It’s a damn hindrance, to tell you the truth.”
“Sorry—not sorry—to cramp your style, Mr. Rock Star. I’ll call you.”
He wasn’t ready to hang up when they said their goodbyes, but she had places to be and evidently he needed to support Reagan. He slid the door open, found himself caught in Reagan’s glare of intense loathing, and shut it again. She needed a bit more time to herself, he decided. And he needed to sleep. Alone. He returned the cushions to the sofa and flopped down on his back, staring at the ceiling, already bored out of his mind. With a sigh, he picked up his phone and downloaded a movie to help him pass the time. It had been a while since he’d seen The Princess Bride.
Thirty-Three
Toni rubbed at her eyes with one hand and yawned as she fished around inside the flower pot on the back porch for the spare key. She hadn’t caught much sleep on her red-eye home, and then driving a rental car home through fifty miles of dense fog had drained her remaining energy. She needed to find her bed for a few hours’ sleep before she drove to Nichols Publishing and planted the sole of her boot firmly in Susan Brennan’s conniving face.
It had been after midnight when she’d boarded the plane. She’d been certain the household would already be asleep, so she hadn’t called home to warn anyone of her impending arrival. She’d decided Julian wouldn’t appreciate her calling him at six in the morning for a ride either, so she’d opted for a rental car. She unlocked the back door and was immediately engulfed by the delicious smells of freshly griddled pancakes and bacon.
“Oh!” her grandmother said from behind the island stove top. She had a spatula raised in defense and her free hand over her heart. “You startled me.”
“What are you doing here?” Toni asked, dropping her bags by the back door and rushing across the enormous farm-style kitchen to squeeze the stuffing out of Grandma Joanna.
“I’d ask you the same. Your mother said you were off getting into trouble with some rock band.” She patted Toni on the rear end with her spatula before using it to flip pancakes.
“I was working with a rock band,” Toni said. “But I sort of got fired.”
“Whatever for?”
“It’s a long story, and I’m too tired to tell it now. How long are you visiting? We need to catch up.”
“I’m here to stay.”
Toni’s chewed on the tip of her finger. Grandma Joanna was her paternal grandmother. They hadn’t seen much of her since Dad had passed away. For almost a decade she’d been traveling the country in her motor home with her two Pomeranians.
“Toni!” Birdie squealed from the kitchen doorway that led to the hallway. “You’re home!”
She dashed into the room, trailed by two orange fluff balls and her ever faithful border collie, Jonesy. All three dogs wagged their tails at top speed.
“Just for a few days, Buttercup.”
Birdie pouted and then glanced toward the door expectantly. “Is Logan here too?”
“No, he has a performance tonight.”
“Who’s Logan?” Grandma Joanna asked with a sly grin.
“That’s Toni’s sweetheart,” Birdie said matter-of-factly.
“It’s about time she got one of those,” Grandma said as she scooped several pancakes onto a waiting stack. “Are you ready for breakfast?”
“Mmm, mmm. Pancakes!” Birdie said, dancing on her tiptoes and licking her lips as she eyed the stack.
Toni had been planning to go directly to bed, but her stomach growled loudly and changed her mind. It would be rude not to join them for breakfast. Mostly because her grandmother’s homemade pancakes were to die for.
“Should we call Mom down?” Toni asked as she carried butter and syrup to the breakfast table in the corner nook of the kitchen. Birdie followed with plates and silverware.
“She left for work about an hour ago,” Grandma said with wave of her spatula. “Some catastrophe at the office.”
Toni wondered if the catastrophe centered around a certain editor who deserved a boot to the face. And one to the ass. Scowling, Toni went to the refrigerator for milk. She wasn’t feeling so tired all of a sudden. Perhaps it was best to confront Susan before she had a decent night’s sleep. Toni might find herself in a rational state of mind if she rested, and rational was not what she was going for.
She listened with half an ear as Birdie enthused about school and her chickens and as Grandma talked about her last trip to Wisconsin and the antics of her Pomeranians, but Toni didn’t feel like sharing tales of her own adventures. She was still rattled by everything that had happened the night before. She’d picked up a copy of the tabloid at the airport, but had been too disgusted to read it. She was sure every word written had painted her lover and her friends in a terrible light. As Toni sat there stewing, her anger and indignation began to boil over.
Someone grasped her arm to gain her attention. “So why did you get fired?” Grandma asked. “From what little your mother said, it sounded like you were doing a fine job.”
Toni lowered her eyes. “It was a misunderstanding. I’d like to claim the entire fiasco isn’t my fault, but it is. I wrote some incriminating things about the members of the band in a journal—with no intention of publishing a word of them—but the diary ended up in the wrong hands and all the secrets were published in a tabloid.” She glanced at Birdie, who was suddenly sliding under the table. Getting bored, most likely. “You better go feed your chickens before school.”
“Toni?” Behind her thick glasses, Birdie’s eyes filled with tears. “Are you in trouble?”
Toni scooted closer to her on the nook bench and gave her a hug. “No, Buttercup. Everything is fine.”
Birdie clung to her, sniffing tears. “I want you to come home, but I don’t want you in trouble.”
“I’m not in trouble. I promise.” Toni reached for a napkin and dabbed at Birdie’s eyes. “Don’t cry.” In the emotionally unstable place that Toni currently found herself, she was almost in tears herself. She kissed Birdie’s forehead and nudged her out of the booth. “I’m sure your chickens are hungry.”
“I’ll hurry,” Birdie said. She rushed out the back door, her entourage of dogs on her heels.
Toni turned to Grandma, who was smiling at her. “I never saw two sisters as close as you two. Of course, you practically raised her yourself, so I’m not surprised.”
Toni munched on her last piece of bacon. “How did Mom rope you into taking over the house?”
“She didn’t have to rope, just ask. I think I’m done with traveling. Seen everything I care to see. I’m ready to be with family, and with Charlie and Phillip gone, you girls are all I have left.”
Toni reached across the table and squeezed Grandma’s hand. She’d lost her husband fairly young, and the loss of her only son had all but destroyed her.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Toni said.
“Now you can follow your dreams without worrying about Birdie,” Grandma said, patting their joined hands.
Toni hadn’t thought of it that way, but Grandma was right. Toni would worry far less with Birdie in Grandma’s expert care. But it didn’t matter. Her dreams were probably over. No band would ever trust her with their personal lives. Not after what had happened to Exodus End.
But maybe she could redeem herself by writing their book. By making it perfect and showing the world what wonderful people they really were.
“I’m going to the office now,” she said. All the computer programs she needed to craft her masterpiece were there. And so was the bitch who’d caused all her problems.
“You need to get some sleep. You look exhausted.”
She was exhausted. But she was too amped up to sleep. She had important business to attend to.
And she didn’t mind looking a bit wild and scary when she faced Susan.
An hour later, Toni dropped off her gear next to her desk before storming down the hall to Susan’s office. Toni had gone over everything she’d wanted to say to Susan a thousand times in her head, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold it together enough to express her words rationally. She didn’t even bother knocking, just flung the door open so hard it slammed into the wall.
In unison, Julian and Susan looked up from the tabloid paper spread across the desk.
“Toni!” Julian said. “What are you doing here?”
Every carefully chosen word flew straight out of Toni’s head. “You’re reading it with her?” she snarled, Julian’s betrayal slashing across her heart.
“Wow, Toni,” Susan said. “I never thought you’d actually have the balls to publish something like this. Bravo to you, kiddo!”
“You’re congratulating me for something you did?”
Susan scrunched her brows together. “Huh?”
Either Susan was innocent or she was a fantastic actress. Toni was counting on the actress thing.
“You stole my journal and used it to write this garbage! The band fired me because of what you did!” Toni splayed her hand in the center of the tabloid paper and clenched her fist, crumpling the pages into a messy ball.
“No idea what you’re talking about, but do you really think I’d still be editing other people’s crap at this shithole job if I’d sold this kind of gold to the tabloids?” Susan rolled her eyes. “You really are a naïve idiot.”
Toni narrowed her eyes. “Pack your shit and leave. You’re fired.”