Smith came over with a towel for Drew a couple of seconds later, grinning as he said, "Valentina and I have been too busy to enjoy the pool. Glad someone is."
"Thanks for the towel." Drew ran it over his face and hair. "I was actually just heading your way to see if I could chat with you and Valentina for a few minutes."
"Why don't you change into something of mine while we stick your clothes in the dryer? Then we can talk."
Five minutes later, Drew had on a pair of Smith Sullivan's jeans and a Hawks Baseball T-shirt. Valentina and Ashley hadn't yet emerged, so they were sitting in Smith and Valentina's home office talking about how the team was doing this year.
"I caught your brother's last no-hitter on the TV on the bus," Drew said, "but it's not like being there when Ryan throws a--"
His sentence fell away as Ashley walked into the room...and his jaw dropped. She was wearing another dress, pink instead of white. And sexy in a way that nothing else she'd ever worn had been.
"We were so lucky," Valentina said as she beamed at Ashley. "Tatiana left this dress in the closet after her visit with Ian. It fits you perfectly."
So perfectly, in fact, that the edge Drew was on wore so thin it nearly broke, almost exploding into a million pieces right then and there in front of Smith and Valentina.
*
Ashley felt just about as self-conscious in Tatiana Landon's dress as she had in her see-through white dress in the pool. Tatiana was a gorgeous movie star who probably wore outfits like this all the time, but Ashley wasn't used to wearing anything quite so form-fitting. One big breath was all it would take for her breasts to come spilling up and out of the bodice. Plus, since her underwear was currently in the dryer, she wasn't wearing any. And from the way Drew was looking at her with so much heat even the air conditioning couldn't keep her cool, she wondered if he'd developed X-ray vision and could tell that she was completely bare beneath the gorgeous dress.
She'd been nervous about coming to this party, considering Smith Sullivan was one of the biggest movie stars in the world. But in her worst nightmares she couldn't have come up with falling into the pool. Only, the truth was that she couldn't entirely regret what had happened, if only because of the way Drew had pulled her close in the water and held her as though he never wanted to let her go.
Just the way he had in the elevator yesterday. And on the beach. And in the desert in the Valley of Fire.
Every time she'd ever been in his arms was imprinted on her memory like a brand. When this tour was over, she'd be replaying each and every one of those delicious moments over and over in her fantasies.
Fantasies that she knew better than to be having right this second, so she worked to pull herself together as she smiled at Valentina. "Thanks again for finding me the dress. And"--she turned to include Smith--"I'm so sorry I made such a spectacle at your party."
"You have nothing to apologize for," Smith said as he reached out for Valentina's hand so that he could draw her closer. "We should have fired that grip a week ago."
"He should know better than to get drunk here," Valentina agreed, looking utterly content in Smith's arms.
They were such a beautiful couple. It clearly didn't matter to them that Smith was famous and Valentina wasn't. They were not only equals, they were also so clearly in love that they were always either holding hands or Smith's arms were wrapped around Valentina's waist.
Seeing how good they were together, Ashley couldn't imagine that Valentina had ever worried about fitting into Smith's Hollywood world. But given the crazy business he was in, Ashley figured it was far more likely that they'd run into at least a few bumps on the way to true love. If only she knew their story, would that help her make sense of what she was going through with Drew?
"I'll go take care of the situation with the grip in a minute," Smith said to Valentina, "but first, Drew said he'd like to chat with us about something." He shifted his gaze to Drew. "I'm assuming it has to do with the soundtrack?"
Ashley couldn't miss the tension in Drew's face. No one could when a muscle was jumping in his jaw and there were deep creases beside his eyes.
She realized it was the way he always looked when he was talking about the problems he'd been having with songwriting. Oh God, the soundtrack. She hadn't even thought to ask him if that was giving him problems the way the songs for his next album were. And despite the strain between them since the beach in Los Angeles, her every instinct was to try to figure out a way to protect him.
But at the same time, while Drew had involved her in all of his other meetings so far, today she was here only because she'd fallen into the pool. She very much doubted any of them wanted her to witness this discussion.
"I should leave the three of you alone," she said, already heading for the French doors in her borrowed pink dress.
"Ashley." Drew's deep voice--and his hand over hers--stopped her in her tracks. "Stay. Please."
She looked into his eyes, and when she saw just how much he seemed to need her support, she moved back to sit with him on the couch opposite the one Smith and Valentina were sitting on. She squeezed his hand, a silent message of support that she hoped he'd understand.
She watched as he steeled himself to deliver the bad news, turning to Smith and Valentina and saying in a grave voice, "Working on the soundtrack for your movie is the opportunity of a lifetime. Honestly, when you asked me to do it, I was floored. But even then I should have been upfront with both of you about the problems I was already having." He ran his free hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. "The rushes are incredible. You deserve a soundtrack just as good. I can't do it justice."
"Of course you will," Valentina said. "We wouldn't have asked you to work with us if we didn't think you would more than do our film justice, Drew."
Valentina's words were as firm as they were soothing. Ashley belatedly remembered that she had managed her sister's acting career for a long time. Clearly, she was good with artists.
But Drew shook his head. "Everything I've tried to write for your film--it's not coming out the way you're expecting."
"How so?" Smith asked.
Ashley couldn't quite read Smith's expression, although he didn't look worried or angry. Instead, it was as though he needed more data before he decided which way to feel. Clearly, neither he nor Valentina were the type to jump to conclusions. Not even when someone they had hired told them flat-out that they weren't up to working with them on a film.
"The songs I've been hearing in my head aren't rock. Not like my last album." Drew looked at Ashley, and even though she'd been trying like crazy to avoid temptation these past few days by keeping her distance, she hoped he knew she was on his side. Always. "There's still a little bit of rock there," Drew continued, "but there's some folk, too. Even some classical." He scowled as he admitted, "Honestly, I don't know what the songs are yet. Just that whenever I try to force them in the direction I know you're looking for, everything stalls out."
Smith looked at Valentina and Ashley got the sense the power couple was having a silent conversation before Smith said, "We trust your vision, Drew."
"Whatever your vision ends up being," Valentina added. "Rock, folk, classical, zydeco--all that matters is the emotion behind it. Style really has nothing to do with it as far as we're concerned."
After a bit of a pause where he looked more than a little gobsmacked by their instant and unconditional support, Drew said, "I appreciate your vote of confidence. But I'm sure you want to sell a lot of soundtracks, and without a guaranteed hit--"
Smith held up a hand. "Ever since Nicola married my brother Marcus and Ford Vincent married my cousin Mia, I've learned a few things about the music business. Mostly that hits may come, and that it's great when they do, but the most important thing of all is that the musicians truly believe in what they're creating." Smith looked at Drew with laser focus. "All we're asking you to do is to put your heart--the whole damned thing--into the music you create for this movie."
&n
bsp; "That's all, huh?"
Ashley nearly sighed out loud with relief when Drew's mouth quirked up slightly at his own question. So, she thought, did Smith and Valentina. Clearly, they hadn't wanted to lose Drew.
"Keep writing for the film for another couple of weeks," Valentina suggested. "And then if you're still having trouble, let us know. But we still have a good feeling about what you're going to give us, Drew."
Drew stood up to thank both of them for giving him another chance to get it right. Ashley hoped at least a chunk of the huge weight on Drew's shoulders had just fallen away.
A few moments later, Smith headed outside to deal with the drunken grip while Valentina went to see if their clothes were dry.
When they were alone, Ashley needed him to know, "I think they're right." She didn't want her voice to carry, so she spoke softly, but she hoped Drew could hear the passion behind her words. "I know we talked about it in the desert, and then again on the beach, but Smith and Valentina both just put it perfectly--you need to trust your new musical vision the way you've always instinctively trusted your old one." She hoped it wouldn't hurt him to hear her say, "It's like your mom said in her letter--you've always been perfectly in tune with the music in your heart."
His eyes were dark and intense as he reached for a lock of her damp hair curling over her chest and wound it around one of his fingers. "Thank you for being here, Ash. And for understanding, even when I barely can myself."
She was about to tell him he was being too hard on himself--and knew that confessing how badly she'd missed him these past few days would be only a beat behind that--when James knocked on the French doors.
Poking his head in, he said, "We've got to get moving, or we'll be late to the studio for your next round of TV interviews. In fact, we've got to call in to the first one in five minutes. Hey, nice dress, Ashley."
For a few moments there, she'd hoped that maybe she and Drew could get things back to where they'd been before their night on the beach, when everything had fallen apart. But within minutes of saying good-bye to Smith and Valentina, who told her to please keep the dress, not only were they back on the insanely paced treadmill of Drew's tour as he headed into a glass and steel building to do the first of a half-dozen back-to-back interviews...but her father also chose that moment to call.
Right when she felt as twisted up inside as she ever had.
Chapter Fifteen
"Honey, how are you?"
She gestured to Max that she was going to head back into the bus before saying, "I'm fine, Dad."
"You don't sound fine." That was the problem with being so close to her father. He was way too attuned to the tone of her voice. "What's wrong? Is Drew--"
"Being the perfect gentleman!" She couldn't stop her irritation from spilling out. "Why are you so worried about him hurting me? You had him in your class, so you should know how great he is." Great enough that you shouldn't have felt you had to warn him not to come near me.
"Ashley." Her father was clearly hurt by her outburst. She'd never spoken to him like that before. "Why are you so upset with me for asking a simple question?"
Because you made Drew promise not to touch your precious little girl!
But she couldn't bring herself to say that to her father, not after a lifetime of believing he was right about absolutely everything. And that was part of it, she suddenly realized as her father waited for her to tell him why she was angry with him: Ashley hadn't learned how to fully trust herself, not when she'd always looked to her father for help in making her choices. But if what she'd said to Drew about not being her father's little girl anymore was true, then she couldn't do that anymore, could she?
"I'm sorry, Dad," she said, feeling like a balloon with all the air slowly fizzling out of it. "It's been a long couple of days. I know you just want to make sure that I'm doing okay."
"Are you?" He asked it much more hesitantly this time.
She couldn't lie to her father, so she simply said, "I'm learning so much. In fact," she added, hoping to distract him from asking any other questions about her emotional state, "I just met Smith Sullivan. You know, the big movie star."
"Of course I know who Smith is," her father said with a laugh. "He was also one of my students way back when."
"No way." How many other famous people had her father taught that he'd never mentioned to her?
"How is Smith?"
"He's engaged to this great woman named Valentina, and he's very kind." She almost told her father about falling into Smith's pool, but she had a feeling that would only make him panic again when he seemed to be feeling better about things.
"That's good to hear, honey. I always hope that fame won't lead people astray."
"It definitely hasn't. Not with Smith." She couldn't stop herself from adding, "And not with Drew either. They're both great people."
"So are you, honey. You've always made me so proud."
His gentle, heartfelt words made her wish she was a little girl again, if only for a few moments, so that he could stroke her hair and tell her what she should do to make everything feel okay.
But she wasn't a little girl anymore. And she needed to figure things out for herself this time...even if some of the things she couldn't help but want to experience with Drew would surely upset her father a great deal.
And even if she knew better than to think Drew could ever be the one for her.
"I've got to go now, but I love you, Dad."
Ashley hung up with so many different emotions and desires and questions careening through her. She had always believed she was the straight and narrow, the clear-cut, just like her father. But Drew had insisted that she was more--that she was as exciting and creative as her mother as well. And when she looked at her reflection in the window across from where she was standing, she suddenly saw a likeness to her mom that she'd never noticed before. That she supposed she'd never wanted to notice before.
But then she noticed something that took her even more by surprise: She wasn't just made up of parts of her parents, put together like pieces of a puzzle. Take her eyes, for instance--they were neither brown like her mother's, nor blue like her father's. Instead, they were uniquely hazel. And her hair wasn't a mass of wild curls like her mother's, or pin straight like her father's. Instead, soft waves curled over her shoulders.
And most important, she was starting to see that what she wanted was neither the pure academia that her father loved, nor the total freedom that her mother craved. Because if Ashley had learned anything from being on tour with Drew, it was that carving one's own unique path was the most important thing of all.
Carving a unique path. The spark that had gone out on the beach in Los Angeles suddenly lit up inside of her. She grabbed her computer and tablet and notebook, and before she knew it, the ideas started flowing so fast that she could barely keep up with them. Ideas that were a full one-eighty from what she'd thought she had come to learn from Drew's tour. Because instead of going deeper into the standard major-label music system, every new idea she came up with was centered around a completely independent framework.
One where the musician ran the show, rather than the label.
A part of her was scared that so many things in her life had taken a complete turnabout from the moment she'd set foot on Drew's bus, but the other part of her was so excited and intrigued that she refused to let that fear stop her from fleshing out the new ideas in as much detail as she could. At least where work was concerned, she could make sense of things if she just worked at them hard enough.
Where Drew was concerned, on the other hand?
Well, between saying he couldn't be with her, but then telling her he dreamed of being with her, and a million other conflicting signs...she honestly didn't know what to think, or how to feel. Ashley shook her head and refocused on her computer screen, diving back into the work that felt a million times safer than her emotions.
When her stomach started grumbling, she suddenly realized just how late it was.
Late enough that she'd not only missed Drew's show, but he should also be done with the meet and greet.
Where was he?
And what was going to happen when he came back to the bus tonight? Because, honestly, the tension between them--both sexual and emotional--had been ramping up more and more, to the point where she'd actually felt as though she might combust soon.
Just then, her phone buzzed with a text from Drew.
Got a chance to drop into a local recording studio for a few hours tonight.
Sleep well, Ash.
She was thrilled by the news that Drew was obviously feeling inspired enough to head into a recording studio. But at the same time, she already knew she wouldn't get much sleep at all.
Not when everything between them was still as uncertain as ever.
Chapter Sixteen
Dallas, Texas
The following morning, Drew watched Ashley as she worked on her laptop in the eating nook on the bus, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. Since she didn't seem to realize he was standing there, he just let himself drink in her beauty for a few seconds.
He'd gone into a local recording studio for a few hours the previous night, hoping that being in what used to be his favorite place in the world would help him to push past his stupid songwriting block. But all he'd wanted the entire time was to be back on the bus with Ashley.
Smith and Valentina had been great--a million times more understanding than he deserved. Not only had they given him two more weeks to see what he could come up with, but they'd also told him to write whatever the hell he wanted.
And still, the songs wouldn't come.
Drew didn't know what he was going to do about his music, but he did know one thing for sure: He and Ashley couldn't go on like this. At least, he couldn't. They needed to sit down, clear the air, figure out how they could at least be friends again in the wake of their no-touching-each-other rule. Because their connection was too strong just to let it burn out like this.
And if he only kept wanting her more by the second, rather than less?