Fifteen Minutes

  The possibility of being single.

  Six rocky months passed, and one day over backyard coffee with Cal she brought up the idea of divorce. He panicked at first and swore he and the model had met only to discuss her interest in family-friendly films. “Not all things are in my control,” he told her. “We need counseling, Kelly. We made a promise before God.” Tears filled his eyes. “I didn’t cheat on you. I never would.”

  “Come on, Cal. You don’t talk to me or text me. You’re sharing your life with someone else. Whoever she is.” She clenched her fists, equally frustrated. “It’s like we’re strangers.”

  “You’re never home.” Cal waved his hand in her direction. “How can I share my life with you when every few months you’re on to the next big thing? Where do I rate on your list of priorities?”

  “You have plenty of women in your life. You don’t need me.”

  Cal studied her, his face a mask of pain and suspicion. “Is there someone else? Because if there is, I want to hear it from you. Not the tabloids.”

  “There’s no one, Cal.” The words came easily and felt like truth. At that point she hadn’t responded to Michael’s tweet. She kept her tone controlled. They didn’t need to give her housekeeper a reason to think they were fighting. “This isn’t about other people. It’s about us.”

  He reached for her hands, but the gesture somehow lacked the passion they once shared. “Kelly, please. Don’t do this.”

  “It’s the only way.”

  His voice fell to a whisper. “How did we get here?”

  Kelly had no answers. That night she finally responded to Michael Manning’s private tweet.

  Hey Michael . . . I finally found time to get back to you. I’d love to get coffee some time.

  At the end of the message she included her cell phone number. She said nothing about her marriage. That week two things happened that prompted Kelly to call her lawyer and have the papers drawn up. First, the tabloids had new pictures of Cal and the model, along with a whole slew of photographs of Kelly and her vampire costar.

  Second, Michael Manning called her.

  From that first conversation Kelly knew there would be no turning back. She fell for him in a way she’d never fallen before. Cal had been the only guy she’d ever loved, but her feelings for Michael made her wonder if she and Cal had simply been too young, the influence of her pastor father and church friends too overbearing.

  One night with the kids and their nanny upstairs, Kelly and Cal had it out in a heated fight. “It isn’t working,” she yelled at him. “I want out.”

  “Of course it’s not working. You’re taking roles that make you a joke. I mean really, Kelly? That vampire show? So the whole world has to see my wife—the pastor’s daughter—in bed with some other guy? Body parts fully visible?”

  “It’s art. The show won six awards last year, okay?” Rage heated her face. “And don’t tell me nothing happened with you and that . . . that girl. We both want out. Quit lying to yourself. You have to see it.” She paused for a long minute. Then she blinked and in a tone more controlled than she’d felt in weeks delivered the final blow. “Cal.” She sighed. “There’s someone else.”

  And like that something snapped. The fight left his body and his expression went flat. He hesitated for a long minute and then exhaled. “Who?”

  “Michael Manning.” She felt a thrill just saying his name.

  “The singer?” Cal’s shock was immediate. “He’s got a different girl every other week. He’s a decade younger than you.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “He’s crazy about me.” She went on to assure Cal that she and Michael were only friends. “But it could get serious.”

  Cal’s eyes—the eyes that once were so like Zack’s—grew dark and distant. “Fine.” He stood and headed for the bedroom door, looking back just once. “Have your lawyer send me the paperwork.”

  She had stayed with Michael at the Ritz-Carlton in Laguna Beach that weekend, leaving the kids with their nanny. When her father called three times that week, Kelly refused his call. Michael had that sort of power over her. The offer from Fifteen Minutes came the next week, and since then she and her singer boyfriend had been very careful. She was still married, after all.

  Which was why she needed to make this call.

  KELLY TURNED HER back on the city of Atlanta and leaned against the railing. She stared at her phone again, at Cal’s profile and the picture from another lifetime. Why haven’t I deleted that? She looked long at the photo, at the people they used to be. Enough. She tapped the call button, held it to her ear and waited. One ring . . . two. On the third ring he answered.

  “Hi.” His voice sounded different, defeated and kinder at the same time. “You really called.”

  “You gave me no choice.” Kelly faced the city. The people down below were too small to see clearly, but there were lots. She wondered if any of them were trying to navigate a messy divorce. “How are the kids?”

  “They’re great. We went to the park today. Kinley learned how to roller-skate.” This was something new for Cal, the time he was spending with the kids. Usually they were with Kelly or the nanny; Cal was simply too busy. But between her contract with Fifteen Minutes and the divorce, Cal had changed. Kelly was glad—both for him and the kids. But it didn’t change the reasons why they were separating.

  She breathed in deep. “Cal, look. I don’t want to drag this out. Rudy called. He gave me your message.” She paused, frustrated. “What do you want me to do, take a personal day and fly there? Have it out face-to-face?”

  “None of that. I want—”

  “Stop. You’re playing games, Cal. We both want this divorce.” She found a calmer voice. “I have Michael now.”

  “That’s your choice. Mine is simple.” His voice held no trace of anger. “I want to stay married to you.”

  One of the assistants opened the door and leaned out. “Two minutes.”

  “I’m on set. This shouldn’t be so hard.” Kelly motioned to the assistant that she was nearly finished with the call. “You want to stay married? Really, Cal? What’s that mean, exactly? We don’t have a marriage. We have a legal document.”

  “We have two kids. And we have a past.” He hesitated. When he spoke again there was no denying the pain in his voice. “Yes, the world knows you’re having an affair. And yes, that hurts. But you’re my wife and I won’t let go of us. Even like this. Don’t forget that.”

  She felt her heart start to respond, but her common sense was louder. Who was he kidding? This wasn’t going anywhere. “My lawyer will be in touch.” She kept her tone kind. “Cal . . . if this gets ugly we both lose.”

  He started to say something and stopped himself. “I’m sorry for everything. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”

  The last thing she’d expected was an apology. It caught her off guard and took the edge off her anger. “I need to go. Good-bye, Cal.”

  “Good-bye.”

  If he was going to say something else, she didn’t give him a chance. The phone call had gotten her nowhere. She looked at Cal’s contact and with a few swipes of her finger she deleted the photo. She had it in a frame in some box back home. Something their kids would want one day. For now she didn’t need reminders of a past better forgotten.

  A sad thought hit her as she headed back inside. She could delete the photo and have her lawyer contact his. She could make plans with Michael Manning for the coming weeks and believe that life would be wonderful once Cal signed the divorce papers. She could box up yesterday and dream of new tomorrows. She could publicly disclaim the faith she was raised with and cut her father out of her life. She could walk further away from everything she had once been.

  But there was one thing she couldn’t stop.

  The way Zack Dylan’s eyes made her remember.

  chapter 9

  Chandra was at the airport the next morning when she spotted Zack. He was with a couple of the guys who had made it through, the thre
e of them buying water bottles at a Hudson News stand. Kelly and Cullen had taken the private flight on the Fifteen Minutes jet the night before. Chandra had an early meeting with her manager, so she’d opted for a commercial flight. The same one as the contestants.

  She hadn’t stopped thinking of Zack since his audition. He had it all, Zack Dylan. The voice, the look, the rare and intangible charisma that set stars apart from everyone else. Chandra had hoped for the chance to talk to him. She was partway out of her seat before she stopped herself.

  There was no rush. They would be holed up in the same Lower West Side château in the Village. Besides, she couldn’t talk to him here, with so many other contestants gathered near the gate. For now it was enough to watch him, to imagine what the world would do with him once he was discovered. Poor boy, she thought as she settled back into the hard airport seat. He has no idea what he’s headed for. No idea that his days of wandering casually unnoticed through a busy airport are about to be cut short. Zack and the guys headed for a section of seats not far from Chandra. She glanced in that direction and saw several other contestants including the blond cheerleader, the one who had been in the tent auditions with Zack.

  Chandra stared straight ahead. Last night’s meeting with Samuel Meier and the rest of the judges and production staff had been jarring. It was the first of its kind. Until now they’d been focused on the cities and finding the right kinds of contestants. That alone had been strange. Samuel Meier kept a list. There needed to be a racial mix, a gender mix, and a diversity of stories. Especially that.

  But yesterday’s meeting had taken another slant altogether. The team sat in chairs gathered in a circle on the set with Meier standing in the middle. “We have a few new policies. Strategies, I guess.” He glanced at Cullen. “They’ve always been a part of the show, but now they’re going to be in writing. Legal wants it that way.” He wandered to a nearby open chair and sat down. His looked at the faces in the circle. “First, we are not a show that endorses any one religion.” He moved on quickly. “We’ve been fairly lenient with our contestants. But from here out we have to be more careful.” He held up a piece of paper. “Legal has crafted a release that every contestant will have to sign. Basically saying they won’t talk about their faith on the show once we’re at the New York rounds.”

  Chandra had felt ice in her veins. She wasn’t a spokesperson for her parents’ faith. But no one should be silenced about something that defined them. Whatever it was. She raised her hand.

  “Yes.” Samuel’s expression told her to be careful; better to go along than to push back. “Chandra. You have a comment?”

  “I do.” She slid to the edge of her seat, staring at the expressions around her. “Does that seem a little weird to anyone else?” Her eyes turned back to Samuel. “What if they like knitting or ballet or watercolors? Will they have to be careful how much they talk about those things?”

  “Chandra.” The warning note was there again. “Religion is different. You were a contestant. You should know that.”

  “Okay.” Chandra crossed her arms. “I have another question.” She didn’t wait for his approval. “Why are contestants allowed to talk about God at all? They have to put it on their application, right? Religious preference? Are you outspoken about your faith? That sort of thing. So why not tell them upfront that they can’t talk about it?”

  “Because.” Cullen chuckled. “Christians bring in viewers.” He winked at Samuel. “Right, bloke?”

  “True.” Samuel smiled. “Nothing wrong with that. At first the show belongs to the contestants. But once we get to New York, contestants belong to the show.”

  Chandra blinked and the memory of the meeting dissolved. But his words still troubled her soul. She looked over her shoulder at Zack again. He was sitting between two contestants—the black gospel singer and the blond cheerleader, Zoey. No question the blonde had it bad for Zack. Chandra studied the guy, the innocence in his eyes. When would he be presented with the release? Told that he couldn’t talk about the God he believed in?

  She remembered something else. She’d heard Kip say that Zack and Zoey were an item.

  “I like it. The alliteration. Their good looks.” Samuel nodded and signed something on Kip’s clipboard. “Let’s run with it.”

  Chandra had wanted to scream. Run with what? The insinuation of a relationship that wasn’t there? She shifted in her seat so she could see them better. America would love Zack and Zoey. But what if he didn’t want to be paired up with her? Chandra pictured the handsome face of her own former fiancé, the one she’d lost during the run of the show. What if Zack had a life before he auditioned? The way Chandra had.

  Sadness came over her. The young man from Kentucky stood out in the group of contestants. The show would make him a star, she had no doubt. But she worried about him. What if the show changed him? What if it cost him something he held dear from his former life? The truth was, if Zack wound up being a finalist, the unsuspecting young man waiting for his flight to New York City would never go back to Kentucky. Not exactly like this.

  She thought about her parents and how much she missed them. Can you see me, Mama? Is there a hole in the floor of heaven where you’re watching me? You’d be so proud. Your girl, a judge on Fifteen Minutes. She closed her eyes. Her mother should’ve been sitting beside her. Her mom loved Manhattan. Her father would’ve given them a long list of dos and don’ts, how they had to be careful around the taxis and wait for the green light when they crossed the street. He would’ve told them not to stay out too late and to be aware of who was around them.

  Her daddy had loved her so much. But her mom had been her friend. Her best friend. Winning this show had cost Chandra so much.

  Already she could feel tears welling in her eyes. She couldn’t cry. Not in public. Even with her head down, a number of people had already recognized her—though thankfully none of them had come up for her autograph. She was pretty sure a few cell phones were aimed at her from across the concourse. People who would put up YouTube clips of Chandra Olson sitting at the airport. No, she couldn’t cry. People would always associate her with the tragic death of her parents. If someone snapped a shot of her wiping tears, the picture would make the front page of tabloids. “Chandra Olson Missing Her Parents.”

  If she were going to move on, then she needed to grieve in private.

  There were two reasons why she’d agreed to be a judge. Because maybe in walking through a season from behind the judge’s table, she would see again the girl she’d been. She would find her past.

  The second reason was to make a difference for someone else. She called up a photo on her phone—the one taken minutes before she left home for her Fifteen Minutes audition. Her parents and her fiancé were gathered around her, believing in her. She looked deep into her mother’s eyes.

  His name is Zack, Mama . . . I know you’re up there with Jesus. So if you could help out this young singer, that’d be great. Ask God to give me the chance to talk to him. Maybe even to warn him. She pictured her mother, her soft brown skin and shining eyes. I miss you. So much I can hardly breathe sometimes. Only you know the real me, the one I can’t show the world. The girl who just wants to go home and have her mama and daddy waiting for her. I’m still that girl, Mama. I am. I still cry every night missing you.

  Chandra switched gears. She couldn’t stay in the past, not for more than a few minutes. She checked her boarding pass, anything to bring her back to the present. The truth was something no one knew. Something no camera would ever capture.

  Just the way Chandra wanted it.

  HE COULDN’T FIND a minute alone. Even here at the airport. That was the problem, and Zack knew he had to do something about it. Ever since his few minutes in front of the judges, since the whole Tebowing circus, he’d been moved from one event or interview or meeting to another.

  His roommate—Jackson Blackwell, from the gospel choir—sat next to him, humming. “You like that, Zack?” Jackson’s smile was contagio
us.

  “Don’t know it.”

  “Really? Come on! That’s ‘Souled Out’ by Hezekiah Walker.” Jackson rolled his eyes. “Man, everyone knows that jam. We sing it every Sunday.”

  Zack laughed. “Not at my church.”

  “Well.” He slapped his knee. “When this madness is over I’m paying a visit to Kentucky and we’ll fix that right up.”

  “Deal.” Zack nodded.

  “I wanna be there for that.” Zoey sat on his other side, her eyes bright. “Okay, Zack? You gotta tell me.”

  Zack checked the time on his phone. At this rate he wouldn’t find a single moment to talk to Reese.

  “Attention,” a voice came from the airport loudspeaker. “We will begin boarding in a few minutes. Please have your boarding pass ready.”

  During the interruption Zoey hurried over to the gospel singer to listen to more Hezekiah music off Jackson’s phone. Today she seemed intent on flirting with other guys, maybe to prove to Zack she had options. Whatever her deal, Zack didn’t care. He was grateful for a few seconds alone.

  Last night the contestants didn’t get back to the hotel until well after midnight, the first free time all day. Jackson had gotten on the phone with a buddy from back home, and Zack had sent a series of texts. He read them again now.

  I can talk now if you’re up. Crazy day around here. Don’t know if you’ve been following everything on Twitter, but I made it through! I’m headed to New York! And yeah, the producers gave us times when we were supposed to update Twitter, but we had no other time until this minute. Anyway, I wanted to call you sooner, baby. Can you talk?